Fallen Magic

I squeeze my eyes shut and try not to think. It’s only a few seconds later that we land on a hard floor. Well, Edward lands on the floor; I land on him. I don’t think I’ve ever been in this much pain: I can feel every bruise, and my ankle and wrist are throbbing. My body wasn’t made to stand up to a mob.

“Wait here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

I open my eyes just in time to see a flash of scarlet as Lord Blackthorn vanishes.

We lie there for a while. I’m too exhausted to move or even speak.

“Tallulah – I’m sorry – can you move? I need to get up.”

Oh, yes. I’m still on top of him. I summon the strength to crawl off Edward and onto a soft rug of some sort. It’s cosy. I’ll just stay here for a while.

Edward stands and crosses whatever room we’re in, and after a few seconds I hear the light peal of a bell. “Come on,” he says. “I’ll get you to the sofa. You can be comfortable there.”

“Where are we?” I manage to ask.

Edward crosses back towards me and kneels down by my side. “I’m going to lift you,” he says. “It might hurt for a second, but then you’ll be much more comfy. Okay?”

“Okay.”

He’s stronger than he looks; either that or he’s using magic to help him. I weigh probably about the same as he does, but he doesn’t seem to struggle lifting me. I, on the other hand, hiss in pain as his hand brushes a tender spot. But he sets me down gently on something soft, and he’s right: it’s much more comfy than the floor even with the rug.

“Welcome,” he says, “to Blackthorn Manor. This wasn’t exactly how I’d planned to bring you here, but it can’t be helped.”

“You were planning to bring me here,” I say.

“Isn’t it normal for friends to visit each other’s houses?”

I laugh, and then wince. Even laughter hurts. I think I have bruised ribs. Something like that, anyway; I’m not exactly a doctor. “Edward,” I say once the pain subsides a little, “nothing about our friendship is remotely normal.”

There are footsteps, and then the creak of a door opening somewhere. “I didn’t expect – “ says a woman’s voice, and then “Oh! Edward! What are you doing – “

“I have an injured friend,” Edward interrupts. “And we’ve been ordered to stay here so getting her to a proper doctor isn’t an option. Can you take a look?”

“Of course I can! What happened to them?”

“Tripped over a plank of wood, and then got trampled half to death by a mob,” I say. “I’ll live, though.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it!” The woman bustles over to me. She’s about fifty or sixty, with thick, curly white hair and a warm smile. Not the sort of person I expected to find working for Lord Blackthorn. “I don’t want anyone dying on my watch! I’m Elspeth, Lord Blackthorn’s housekeeper. And you are?”

“Tallulah. I’m Edward’s classmate.”

“Edward, dear, run and get the medical supplies, would you? It’s very nice to meet you, Tallulah. Any friend of Edward’s is a friend of mine. Now, can you tell me what hurts?” She drags a nearby stool over to the sofa and sits down.

“…everything?”

Elspeth might not be a proper doctor, but she’s calm and competent. She judges my wrist and ankle to both be sprained – magical healing can fix at least the wrist, apparently – and while she’s less confident on what’s happened to my ribs it seems to not be a critical injury.

“I can’t afford magical healing, though.”

Elspeth laughs. “If I know Edward, he won’t let you stop him paying for it.”

I mentally add a large sum of money to the debt I still owe him for legal fees. We still haven’t agreed an interest rate; maybe we can compromise at zero? “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Don’t be. He’s only trying to help. And he might not be able to fix most problems, but he can throw large sums of money at them. So let him. Do you think you could lift your shirt up again? I want another look at those bruises.”

By the time she’s done that, Edward has returned: either the supplies were close by or he took her instructions to run very literally. “Here,” he says.

“Thank you.” Elspeth takes the suitcase from him, sets it down on her lap, and removes a tiny vial of dark liquid. “This will help with the pain, if you want it.” She holds it out to me.

I take it and then realise that with only one working hand I have no way of uncorking it. I hold it out to Edward, who takes it but makes no move to uncork it.

“This isn’t a cure,” he says.

“I know that.”

“Right. Just… it’s always best to know exactly what something will do before you take it. This just… supresses pain for a few hours. The side effects aren’t that bad. You might feel a bit sick or get a headache, but that’s about it. The most dangerous thing about it is that it supresses pain.”

“What d’you mean?”

“The body’s pain sensors exist for a reason. You’ll naturally assume that if it doesn’t hurt, nothing’s wrong with it, which might mean you try to walk on that leg. And that isn’t going to work, and it could make an injury a lot worse. It’s meant for emergencies only. If you don’t have a choice but to push through it, this can make it worlds easier.”

“This isn’t an emergency, though.” I hate to point out the obvious, especially since making the pain go away sounds exactly what I want right now.

“If I know Lord Blackthorn, you’ll be having a very thorough conversation about this riot when he next deigns to show up,” Elspeth says. “And trust me, you do not want to be in agony during that conversation.”

“I don’t want to waste your supplies – “

“You are not a waste of supplies,” Edward says with surprising passion. “Anyway, we have a full bottle and it’s easy to obtain more. Well, easy if you’re Lord Blackthorn, that is.”

By which he means highly restricted, ridiculously expensive or both.

“Want it?” Edward asks.

I hesitate for a second before nodding.

“Good.” He uncorks the vial and holds it out to me; I take it in my good hand and raise it to my lips.

“I should warn you it tastes horrid.”

I’m already pouring the liquid into my mouth when he speaks. It’s thicker than I expected, and I recoil and fight not to gag when the taste hits me. It’s not that awful; the texture is what’s horrid. It’s slimy. Stuff you drink isn’t supposed to be slimy. I choke it down bit by bit.

Edward is struggling to hold back laughter; the expression on my face is doubtless hilarious to anyone who hasn’t just had a mouthful of slime.

“Don’t just stand there laughing! Fetch her some water to wash away the taste!”

“Yes, ma’am.” Instead of running off again, Edward simply takes a small empty glass from the supply kit and conjures it full of fresh water. “Here.”

I set down the empty vial and take the glass. Swilling it around my mouth isn’t pleasant, since I find traces of slime, but it’s worth it to be rid of the awful aftertaste. “Does this just work by tasting so bad the pain seems insignificant?” I ask, only half joking.

It’s not a particularly good joke, but Edward laughs anyway. “Well, do you still feel awful?”

“Actually… no.” I didn’t notice initially, maybe because of the taste, but now I think about the pain it’s not anywhere near as bad. More a dull ache than the sharp intense pain of a minute ago. “Thank you. And thank you, Elspeth.”

“You’re welcome. Now, tell me about this mob.”

Edward briefly sketches out the story of what happened at the execution. He downplays his own heroics, but other than that his account is accurate; I chip in with the occasional detail. When we get to the man who tried to stab Lord Blackthorn, I feel a sudden chill. I’d forgotten him between the pain and the shock of being teleported.

But what’s to stop him from just teleporting right back to where he was and stabbing the man without me being there to see? I doubt he’d have any moral qualms about it, judging by his recent actions. Maybe I didn’t save him at all. Maybe my little speech accomplished nothing.

That thought hurts worse than any pain.

“…and then he teleported us here and immediately left,” Edward concludes.

“And isn’t that just typical of the man,” Elspeth adds.

“Well, I suppose there is an ongoing crisis, and dealing with it is in his job description…”

“Surely he could at least spare a couple of minutes to check that his own son is okay after nearly being stars-damned killed!”

Edward does seem surprisingly okay, now she mentions it. Physically, yes, but I don’t think he once came close to a Malaina episode during all that. “Elspeth, I’ve told you before. You don’t have to get indignant on my behalf. I’m used to it.”

“And a crying shame that is,” she says.

I like her.

“You’re… not what I would have expected of Lord Blackthorn’s housekeeper,” I say carefully.

“You mean I’m sane and sensible,” Elspeth says. “Well, someone has to be. Otherwise he’d have got himself killed a decade ago. Besides, I’ve had worse bosses who didn’t pay half as well.”

“You should hear some of her stories,” Edward adds, and then continues awkwardly “that is, if Elspeth doesn’t mind telling you – “

“No offence, Tallulah. You seem like a great girl, and I trust Edward’s judgement. But… we did only meet a few minutes ago. I can’t just – “

“It’s fine. Secrets. I get it. Comes with the territory.” Though I didn’t expect even the housekeeper to have them.

Elspeth smiles. “Thank you. Is there anything else I can do – “

“You mean order me to do – “

“– to make you comfortable?”

I laugh. “You’ve done more than enough already. Though I’d appreciate Edward’s company, if he doesn’t mind being ordered to stay with me.”

“I do not need an order to stay with you.”

“If you two are sure you’re okay without me, then, I’ll get back to work. Could I get that glass, please, Tallulah?”

I realise I’m still holding the water Edward conjured. I drain the last of it and give Elspeth the empty glass; she packs it and the discarded vial back into the supply case and snaps it shut. “Just ring for me if either of you need anything, all right?”

“Right.”

“Well, actually…” Edward says slowly.

“Just spit it out, boy,” Elspeth says, not unkindly.

“Would you happen to have a plate of cinnamon bites on hand?”

Elspeth laughs. “One plate of cinnamon bites coming right up.” She stands and bustles away.

“You have not lived,” Edward says, smiling to himself, “until you’ve tried Elspeth’s cinnamon bites.”

“Are you going to let me have any?”

“Well… maybe one.” Edward takes the seat Elspeth vacated. “So. Your company is here. What would you have me do?”

I laugh, and then have an idea. “Could you tell me about your family history?”

“That’s a pretty broad topic. And I don’t actually know that much – more than anyone who isn’t part of the family, but I haven’t spent much time on it.” He throws his hands in the air. “You can arrest me for heresy now.”

“I could be persuaded to show mercy in exchange for information.”

“I’ve corrupted you, haven’t I?”

“I guess you have. Do we have a deal?”

“Ask your questions.”

I laugh again, at the sheer absurdity of it all. Then I take a second to think before asking “Was Richard Blackthorn Philippa the Bright’s secret lover?”

“If he was, it wasn’t a very good secret if people are still talking about it eight hundred years later.”

“Was Richard Blackthorn Philippa the Bright’s not-very-well-kept-secret lover?” I correct.

Edward shrugs. “I honestly don’t know. There might be an answer in the library, I haven’t been through his journals except to briefly look at some of his spellwork.”

“Take me to your library.”

“Tallulah, you can’t walk.”

“I feel fine,” I protest.

“That’s the painkillers talking. You’re in agony really, and your legs are not going to manage a flight of stairs.”

“Then get me there some other way. Levitate me on a stretcher. I don’t care. Just get me there."

"I can’t take non-family-members there.”

“I promise I won’t look at anything your dad doesn’t want me to.”

“No, I literally can’t. There’s a ward preventing anyone who isn’t a Blackthorn from entering.”

“So subvert the ward.”

“You do remember what I told you about my knowledge of ward-breaking?”

My knowledge of ward-breaking doesn’t go much beyond the Explosion Theory and is entirely theoretical. On second thoughts, perhaps applying that method of ward-breaking to a roomful of precious books might not be the best idea. “Marry me.”

He throws up his hands. “Hold on. I think this has gone a bit too far. You want to marry me for my library?”

“There are worse reasons to marry someone.” I manage to keep a straight face for a full ten seconds before I burst out laughing.

“I really thought you were serious for a moment.”

“I would be if I thought your dad would ever agree to it.”

And despite everything we’ve just survived, for this brief moment I’m happy.