Magic Under Glass (14 page)

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Authors: Jaclyn Dolamore

BOOK: Magic Under Glass
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22

At the moment, I feared an encounter with Miss Rashten more than any dark magic. Annalie ordered me to get some rest. “You’ll need your strength.”

While she listened for Miss Rashten’s return to her own bedroom, I lay on her bed, but could not sleep. Maybe it was all in my head, but I felt the presence of ghosts. In the darkness, I saw things out the corner of my eye. I felt feather-light touches on my back and heard whispers. By the time Annalie returned, I was more exhausted than before and quite ready for a cup of her coffee.

“I can tell you an incantation to open the gate to the other side,” she said. “But your feelings matter more than your words. You must pull the Lady toward you, with all your soul. But be careful. If the gate stays open for too long, the dark spirits will find it. They’ll try to enter and possess you. You’ll know when they’re coming because the room will grow dark and cold.”

“What do I do if they try and possess me?”

“I’m not sure I’m the one to ask. I can only tell you that it isn’t such a horrid fate, to be possessed. Most of the time the good spirits will keep away the bad, and they are lovely company.”

“Oh.” I’m sure it was plain on my face that I was horrified at the idea of sharing a similar fate.

She smiled. “The spirits shy away from light. Light a candle to fend them off.”

She wished me luck, and I slipped into the hall. The door creaked as I opened it, loud as firing cannons. Miss Rashten’s door was closed, but I was sure she must have heard it, even in sleep. I couldn’t breathe until I reached the bottom of the stairs, and stopped to be sure I heard nothing behind me.

I fetched a candle and matches from my bedroom, clutching them against my chest beneath my nightgown, my left hand closed around his key, and slipped through the door to Erris’s room. I had never been awake at such an hour in my life.

I shut and locked it behind me. I wondered if I should wind Erris for company.

No. If nothing happened, I couldn’t bear another good-bye. If the dark spirits came and possessed me, he would be helpless to come to my aid.

I sat in the center of the floor and struck the match. The candle flame rose to life, its golden light casting trembling shadows. The red heels of Erris’s shoes glowed. I wondered if he had toes beneath his shoes.

Focus, Nim.

I didn’t know how it was supposed to feel to pull with my soul, but my desire to free Erris was surely as strong as any more experienced sorcerer’s summons. I whispered the words Annalie had taught me:

O Queen, I have lit you a beacon

O Queen, I have opened the door

O Queen, I permit you to enter

O Queen, I request your aid

Queen of the Longest Night, come to me!

With every word, I clenched my fingers and wished with all my being, and as I finished, the candle went out.

I reached for the matches. There was no draft, no reason for the candle to snuff. I held the match to strike, but something stopped me.

I looked at Erris, and realized there was light in the room that had not been there before, a light that cast his skin in a faint blue. I looked at my own hands. They felt suddenly cold, and I clasped them, trying to rub out the chill. Blue cold radiated from the floors and walls like winter had come in a moment. I got to my feet, shivering. I picked up the candle, still unlit.

When I looked up, I gasped.

A woman was there. Standing near the wall. She had appeared without a sound, without a flash.

“I don’t have much time,” she said. Her voice was firm, even deep, lacking any mystical air.

She was the warrior woman of the statue in New Sweeling’s square, with a sword at her waist, only full of calm strength and beauty that was surprisingly benevolent. Tall as a man, old and ageless at once, with black hair hanging loose, and a faint light radiating from her being. She wore a short cape pinned around her shoulders. A painted bird in flight spread its wings across the breast of her leather bodice.

I couldn’t speak, and seeing my fear, she smiled. A kind smile, like the portrait in the palace of Tiansher. I fell to my knees and touched my forehead to the ground, the only way I knew to treat a queen. My heart was pounding.

“I don’t have much time,” she repeated. I peered forward to see her shoes draw closer. “I can’t stay long here. Tell me your request.”

“I wish for Erris—this automaton—to live. He is a fairy, trapped in this form. I don’t know if there’s anything you can do, but Karstor said—and then Annalie said—well, it doesn’t matter, just that you do what you can for him, even if it means taking him with you, I suppose—although I hope—” I cut myself off. I hardly knew what I was saying.

She reached down and put her hand atop my head. I rose my face to her, overcome with gratitude that she had come, and that she was kind. Her hand slipped to my chin and drew me up. I nearly stumbled on my nightgown.

“Dear girl,” she said. “You need not fear me. It’s your love for Erris that brought me here, and with love I come to you.”

“Thank you. I don’t have words—”

“You don’t need words. I understand.” She smiled a little. “Only, we must hurry. It won’t be an easy spell to break.” She began to walk the edge of the room, sprinkling ashen dust she took from a pouch at her waist. “If you’ll allow me, I’ll see what I might do. I’m going to open the spirit channels, and I must not be disturbed. You can sit down if you like.”

The Queen was so lovely, standing over Erris, her eyes half-lidded in deep concentration. She took more dust from the pouch and sprinkled it upon his head. She murmured, her voice lower than ever, the words strange.

I stood near the door, fascinated by her demeanor and costume, by her leather boots and her skirt with three tiers of fringe, and the pantaloons beneath. The costume would surely look absurd on a woman of Lorinar, but on her it was magnificent. She had capable hands. I imagined she could lead an army, on a white horse, fighting for a righteous cause.

Her voice crept louder. Her hands worked as if reeling in a net above Erris’s head. It was hypnotic, its own kind of song and dance. The fringe on her skirt shivered. Her knees moved slightly. Her whole body was involved in the spell.

I heard a faint call, in the direction of my bedroom. “Nimira!” A little louder, “Nimira?”

I gasped, scrambling to my feet. “Hollin. Hollin’s looking for me.” I went to the door. “He’s coming.”

“Don’t—” She spoke brusquely. “Pay him no mind. I must not be disturbed . . . just—for a moment.” She didn’t even look my way.

I stayed standing. He was still calling my name, drawing closer. Any moment, he would be at the door.

The Queen’s chant took on more urgency.

“Nimira?” He was quite close now.

The doorknob rattled. “Nimira, are you in there? Open the door!”

The Queen glanced to me, and she gasped herself—who knew the Queen of the Dead could gasp? It was not a gentle gasp, but a pained one—like she had been struck. She stepped back from Erris and held her palms out, warding off something unseen.

The blue light around her dimmed. I heard the faintest cruel whisper—where did it come from? From within the room? Inside my own head? It had no direction. And Hollin was still shouting at me.

“They’ve broken through,” the Queen said, speaking as if she were making a great effort to sound calm. “They’re coming. You must light your candle. If it goes out, you must light it again. Don’t fear them.”

“The dark spirits?”

“Yes. Outlaws of my realm.” She was dissipating into a haze. “They can’t hurt you if you’re strong.”

“Wait, don’t go!” I cried, reaching for her, although I stopped short of trying to actually touch her.

“I must go, Nimira. The longer I leave the channel open, the more of them will come through. Light the candle. You can fight them off. You have all the strength you need. And—take care of him.” She touched Erris’s shoulder and her eyes were sad.

“Take care of him?” Nothing had changed on his clockwork form. As soon as I looked at him, she slipped from the corners of my eyes like she had never been.

“Wait! Queen! Can’t you come back? I—” No answer. The shadows were falling on me, blotting even the moonlight from the window. The whispers grew louder.
Touch her grab her grind her
bones drape her swarm her shadows shadows endless . . .

It was like the lights had turned out on all the world. I could see no more of Erris than a silhouette. I couldn’t see the candle. I fumbled on the floor. The wooden boards were cold as slabs of ice and stung my hands. My teeth chattered. I tried to sing to blot out the horrid voices. I hummed scales through my chattering teeth, and still I heard them, like some dreadful poetry.
Dark and endless
tomb for maidens unloved untouched forgotten . . .

I heard a key click, and the door flew open. I heard Hollin’s voice, but in the darkness I saw nothing. “Nimira. Nimira!”

“Sir, I—”

“What have you done?”

“I tried—” My hand closed around the matches. I had to light one. I had to light one.

“Nimira—where are you? Come on, get up—God above, this darkness . . . It’s happening again—”

“I have to light the candle!”

Hollin barked strange words, and suddenly, a soft light glowed in his hands. No sooner had it appeared than it began to shrink, and he shouted, even louder now—He sounded pained. The light expanded. His arms were glowing, and he grabbed me by the shoulder with warm fingers. The candle dropped from my hand and clattered to the ground.

“Come on!” he cried. “For God’s sake, come on!”

We ran. The voices retreated from my head. I ran as fast as I could, but he was still dragging me along, shouting his spells. When I looked back, I saw the shadows melting out from the room into the corridor.

He flung me from him, away from the shadows. “Go back, get into your room. I have to send them away.”

“Erris—”

“What?” He shoved me so hard I almost lost my balance. “Never mind, just go. I
won’t
lose you, too.
Go,
damn you!”

I streaked down the halls, hugging myself tight. What had I done? Oh, what had I done?

I now understood what Hollin had faced, fighting for Annalie’s life. That darkness . . . those horrible voices . . .

Hollin was out of sight now. I stopped to breathe. Behind me I heard him shouting.

I still had the matches in my hand.

I tore into my room and grabbed another of my candles. I forced myself to block out the sound of Hollin’s shouting. I must focus. I must light the candle.

I struck the match and touched the wick, just beneath the glass holder.

A steady flame rose. I picked it up and ran. Hollin’s arms still glowed, but shadow draped the rest of him. I couldn’t see that he’d made any ground. Shadow fingers sunk into the wallpaper and the floors. The husky voices whispered in my head, louder and louder the closer I came. The candle flickered wildly.

“No. No! Get back.” I didn’t know any spell words, but I could shout. “Get back. Go back to where you came from!”

Hollin kept up his chanting, but I thought his voice strengthened with my arrival. We could win. We would.

The candle flame still danced, threatening extinction. Softly, I began again to sing familiar words I’d heard my mother sing countless times, that I had sung night after night on Granden’s stage.

My voice gained strength, easing into a melody it knew so well. My throat filled with music. It pushed back the cold. The candle flame tried to straighten out. I willed it to stand.

There was so much darkness. I imagined the shadows were even in my lungs, straining my breath—No, I must not think of them. I was strong, stronger now than ever. I had come a long way from the girl who had grown up with servants and sashes, the girl who had left home to flee farm work and Father’s disgrace.

I stepped farther into the darkness. I must take out its heart. Hollin put his back to mine, walking with me as in a dance. We both understood what must be done.

Drag you down down far away no home no father no mother . . .

My voice faltered as my ears began to listen.
No . . . don’t listen.

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