True Magics (40 page)

“Do we have bandages?”

“I have a full kit under my bed,” said Henry, putting the pot on the stove. “Given our lives, I knew we were going to need them eventually. When the water in the pot is warm, bring it out.”

The water in the pot took an inordinately long time to heat. Thomas spent the time pacing and cursing. When it was finally warm enough he brought the pot of water out to Henry and went back to the kitchen until the kettle whistled. Thomas made the tea and brought a tray with mugs and what was left of their bread out to the small parlour. Claudine was curled in a ball under the blankets, staring at the fire. Her feet, peeking out beneath the blankets, were clean and bandaged. Thomas served out, and Henry helped Claudine sit up.

Thomas waited until she’d taken the first sip of her drink before asking, “What happened?”

Claudine shuddered and huddled deeper in the blankets. “I don’t know,” she said. “I had just gone to bed. My father and mother were still up. I heard banging. Then my mother screamed and the cook burst into my room and grabbed me and told me I had to hide. That they were looking for me, too. He dragged me down the servant stairs and to the back door, and I ran out into the streets.” She gasped for air and began sobbing. “I heard him yelling at someone and I think they might have hurt him, too. I hid and… Oh, by the Four…”

Henry plucked the mug out of her shaking hands before she could spill any of the tea. He put his arm around her shoulders. “You’re safe here with us,” Henry said. “No one is going to hurt you here.”

“It’s not me!” protested Claudine. “They took my mother! I saw them dragging her away with a rope around her neck. I saw my father trying to fight them, and the soldiers punching and kicking at him and…” Her words became wails. “I want my parents back!”

Henry set the tea aside and took her into his arms. “Shhh. We’ll find out what happened in the morning. We will.”

“We promise,” said Thomas.

“No!” Claudine’s hand came out from under the blanket and grabbed Thomas’s wrist. “You could do it tonight, if you wanted to. You could find them and get them out.”

“Claudine, I can’t just…”

“You have magic! You can get them out with it. Please, Thomas!” Thomas tried to gently pull his arm away. Claudine squeezed harder. “You could! You know you could!”

“I can’t help them with magic!” Thomas shook his head. “I can’t get them out that way.”

“Please!” said Claudine. “I know you have the power. Please,
please,
get him out!”

“It’s not that simple.”
Especially not now that we’ve already raided them once. The place will be crawling with guards.

“Please!”

“I’m not saying no because I don’t want to!” snapped Thomas, pulling his arm hard and breaking her grip. “I’m saying no because it won’t work!”

“I hate you!”
Claudine turned her face into Henry’s chest and started crying again. Thomas sat back, feeling mean and useless.

But it won’t work,
he told himself.
We can’t even get close to them.

“I’ll find another way,” said Thomas. “I promise.”

Claudine just cried, inconsolable, in Henry’s arms. Henry held her until her wails dwindled down to weeping. “We should keep watch,” Henry said. “Claudine can take my room.”

Thomas nodded. “We’ll switch at each bell of the night, one in my room, one here.”

Henry wrapped the blanket tighter around Claudine then picked her up at once. “You rest. We’ll make sure that no one hurts you.”

Claudine, her head tight against Henry’s chest, nodded, but didn’t say anything else. Thomas stirred the fire in the parlour and waited until Henry came back out, shutting the door behind him.

“She’s still awake,” said Henry. He took a drink from his flask and passed it to Thomas. “I doubt she’ll sleep any time soon.”

Thomas drank, and let the whiskey burn its way down his throat and add its heat to rage in his belly. “I’ll talk to Sir Walter in the morning. Maybe he’ll know what to do.”

“If he can do anything,” said Henry. “The Church has obviously decided that the king can’t. Or won’t.”

“Why?” said Thomas. “Why do they think they can get away with it?”

“Cavalry, for one thing,” said Henry. “Soldiers. How many troops do you think they have in the city?”

“Enough to pull off raids all over,” said Thomas. He thought hard. “Enough to make the king back down?”

“Maybe. The support of the people?”

“Some of them,” said Thomas. “Not all.”

“And they’re not making many friends tonight,” said Henry. “What do you think will happen tomorrow?”

“No idea,” said Thomas. “After I see Sir Walter we’ll take Claudine to George and Eileen’s place.”

“Think that will be safe?” said Henry.

“It’s all I can think of, to be honest.”

Henry took back the flask and took another drink. “Wake me at the next bell.”

“I will,” said Thomas. “Hey, why do you get to sleep first?”

“You can’t sleep when you’re worried,” Henry said, smiling. “And right now you are very, very worried.”

Thomas grimaced and nodded. “At least I can get some reading done.”

For the next hour, Thomas tried to study, but the words all seemed to jumble together and he couldn’t concentrate on them. In the end he put the books down and stared at the fire, trying to make sense of what was happening.

***

Henry roused Thomas as the first morning bell rang, and handed him another mug of tea. “You have to get to Sir Walter.”

Thomas nodded and struggled upright. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I’ll wait till then to get Claudine up.”

“All right.” Thomas struggled into his boots, coat and cloak then stumbled out into the city. He half expected to be accosted by cavalry on the way, but the streets were quiet and all the doors locked up tight. Thomas ran to the fencing hall and up the stairs.

The door was locked. Thomas knocked on it and waited. He put his ear against it. There was no sound on the other side.

Thomas checked to make sure no one was around, then knelt and used the set of lock-picks Sir Walter had given him. It took a bit of time, but he managed to get the lock open.

Inside, the fencing hall was dark. Thomas stood still and waited, wondering if this was a test.
If so, it’s really bad timing on his part.
There weren’t that many places to hide inside the room, and none where Thomas wouldn’t be able to see a person’s inner light glowing. He walked through the hall, checking the rafters and inside the fireplace, just in case. It was empty.

Unsure of what else to do, Thomas lit the fire in one of the braziers. The warmth of it was nice, and the yellow glow lit the room, casting shadows over the fencing equipment. In its light, Thomas could see a note, lying in the middle of the floor.

Events have made today’s lesson impossible. Tomorrow.

- W

Thomas slipped out of the fencing salon and into the street. People were starting to come into the streets, now, talking with their neighbours. The conversations all sounded the same.

“They came after midnight. Broke down Merchant Biggan’s door!”

“Did you see them leading away Widow Hildy?”

“What could Fred’s daughter have possibly done? She’s fifteen!”

“I’ve always thought Francine Henderson was up to no good. And now we know it!”

When Thomas got back to the apartment Claudine was in their kitchen, eating porridge. She glared at Thomas when he walked in.

She wants to hate me? Fine,
Thomas thought
. Just let us get her out of here and someplace safe.
“Sir Walter wasn’t there,” said Thomas. “But the Church was in the area last night. Took at least four people from that neighbourhood from what I heard.”

“Is there anywhere they weren’t last night?” asked Henry

“Here,” said Thomas. “Why not?”

“No idea.” said Henry. He turned to Claudine. “As soon as you’ve finished breakfast, we’ll get you someplace safer.”

Thomas fetched his spare boots and cloak for Claudine. Henry helped her ease her bandaged feet into the boots, then bundled her in the robe, coat and cloak. Together they led her out into the city. Henry gave her his arm to lean on and she clung to it, limping and gritting her teeth.

The walk to Eileen’s house had never seemed longer.

The big market square was buzzing with activity. The preacher was back, raging against the students and their wicked ways, and expounding loudly about the dangers of witchcraft. Many people were listening intently, while four Church guards stood watch. The other shoppers were looking down at their purchases or at the stalls, and spoke in hushed tones.

“Keep on walking,” said Henry. “We don’t have a care in the world, understand?”

“News!” called a crier. He was dressed in the Church’s livery, and carried a small stool that he put down and stood on. “News! Come listen to the news!”

“News from the High Father!” shouted the preacher. “Listen to the news, everyone!”

The crier unrolled a scroll. “News! Listen to the news! Hear one; hear all! Hear the news!” He paused a moment, then raised the scroll. “By order of Culverton, by the Grace of the High Father, Archbishop of Criethe, defender of the faith, and keeper of the true words of High Father, let it be known that last night, this city was scourged of witches!”

The preacher’s audience cheered. The crier let them for a moment before raising his voice again. “Too long has Hawksmouth been a haven for those who would do unholy deeds and follow the Banished in their wicked ways! Too long has the city been in their grip! Those who worship the Banished have inserted themselves into even the highest levels of society, perverting the leaders of this fine city and kingdom, so their crimes would go unnoticed!”

“All praise the High Father!” declared the preacher. The crowd around him repeated it, louder. Others in the square looked worried or downright scared.

“Let it be known!” continued the messenger, “That Hawksmouth will no longer be a haven for those who practice foul witchcraft. The Church of the High Father has risen! The Church has acted where the king would not, to clear this canker from our fair city! And let it be further known that the Church will not cease in its efforts to rid our city, our nation and our world of witchcraft! Therefore, I exhort all of you; where you suspect witchcraft, speak to your priest! Let those whose actions endanger their souls and the souls of their fellows be put to the question! Let this foulness be cleared from our land!”

The preacher’s followers cheered again. The man stopped, rolled the scroll, and reached into his bag and pulled out another.

“Hear one, hear all!” The crier raised the second scroll. “By order of Culverton, by the grace of the High Father, Archbishop of Criethe, defender of the faith, and keeper of the true words of High Father, let it be known that the Royal Academy of Learning, long known as a breeding ground for ill-behaviours, and all manner of vices, is suspected of having fallen under the influence of those witches who would corrupt our city and nation! Let it be further known that the king, who has sole authority over the students of the Academy, and who is their final arbiter and judge, has refused to investigate these suspicions, but rather allows the students to continue unchecked and unrepentant in their wicked and vile ways.”

And your point?
Thomas wondered. They were two thirds of the way across the square, and so far, had been unnoticed.

“Therefore, the Church of the High Father calls on you all to shun these students wherever you may meet them! Let no man or woman of good conscience have any dealings with them! Offer them no credit! Do not serve them in your taverns! Do not sell them your goods! Do not speak to them, save to chastise them! Let them know that their wickedness is not welcome in our city! And at all turns, let your voices be heard by the king! Let him know that he must bring these students and their masters to heel! That the laws of the High Father must stand supreme! That all must bow to the will of the High Father!”

“Those are students right there!” The preacher yelled, pointing at them. “There!”

“Keep walking,” said Henry. “And get ready to run.”

“The High Father bless and protect you!” finished the crier. “Let your faith, your spirit, and your decency sweep away this plague of witchery and wickedness that threatens our lands!”

“You heard what the High Father has said!” screamed the preacher, pointing at Thomas, Henry and Claudine. “Show them the wickedness of their ways!”

The crowd around the preacher cheered. Several of the bigger men started to come forward, cheered by the others. Thomas and Henry put their bodies between them and Claudine, shielding her as they backed out of the square. Thomas looked over his shoulder. The street was only ten yards away. “Nearly there.”

“Not close enough,” said Henry. “Here they come.”

“Take her out of here,” said Thomas. “Carry her! Go!”