Mr. Lewis pointed out one of the little dug-in houses that was maybe a tad bigger than the others, and said that was his, and he’d be pleased if Papa and Professor Jeffries could join him for dinner. And Mr. Harrison, too, he added, just late enough that it was obvious he’d all but forgotten about him. Professor Jeffries accepted right off, but Papa said he’d see once he’d talked to his daughter, which reminded everyone why we were supposed to have come. Mr. Lewis nodded and handed us all over to Brant and wished us a fine visit. Then Brant took us down the street to a tiny house that looked just like all the others. He pushed the door open without knocking and called, “Rennie? We’re here!”
CHAPTER 26
RENNIE CAME TO MEET US WHEN SHE HEARD BRANT. MY STOMACH turned over when she stepped out into the sunlight. I’d thought some about meeting her again, but actually seeing her was better and worse than I’d expected. Rennie had always been my bossy older sister. I hadn’t always liked her, but I’d always figured she
Luckily, I didn’t have to do much except stand there and nod. Rennie started babbling nervously the minute she saw us, and the next few minutes were mostly exclamations over how tall Lan had gotten, how grown up I looked, how good it was to see everybody, and what a shame it was that Mama and Nan and Allie couldn’t have come, too. Then Papa introduced Professor Jeffries and Wash and Mr. Harrison, and Rennie brought her children out to meet us.
Albert Daniel Wilson was a midsize four-and-a-half-year-old; Seren Louise was a tiny two-year-old. Both of them kept trying to hide behind Rennie’s skirts. I couldn’t quite tell whether they were just shy or really afraid. The baby was two months old, and looked to be ready for a nap and cranky about not getting it. Rennie had all of them dressed up in their Sunday best, and when she wasn’t shoving them forward to say hello, she was nagging at the older ones to keep their clothes nice, which didn’t make any of them any happier. It seemed a lot of fuss to make over meeting only one grandfather and two out of fourteen-plus aunts and uncles, but that was Rennie for you.
After the first flurry, I stepped back and let Lan and Papa and William do most of the talking while I looked around. The house was tiny, just two rooms, and neither one as big as our second-best parlor in Mill City. The outside walls were peeled logs, but the wall between the two rooms was made of planks.
The dirt piled around the outside walls shaded the windows and made the glass dusty, so looking out was like peering through a tunnel. It also kept the inside of the house cool and damp, which was pleasant enough for a hot day in mid-July, but I wondered how it would feel on a cold, rainy April or September day.
Rennie herself looked older, but not the way Sharl and Julie and Diane had looked older when we went back to Helvan Shores. Rennie didn’t look grown-up older; she looked worn-out older. There were hard lines around her mouth that I didn’t remember seeing before, and she moved just a little bit slow and stiff, like she’d spent the day doing laundry without any housekeeping spells. Then I realized that she’d likely had to do just that, and not just for laundry—the Rationalists wouldn’t want her using housekeeping spells for anything.
That thought startled me, and I took a second, longer look around. This time, I noticed the jars and tins on the shelves by the stove—all things that mice and bugs couldn’t get into, even if you didn’t have a spell to keep them away. A thin rope ran back behind the stove, where you could hang damp dish-towels and cleaning rags to dry faster if you couldn’t use a hurry-up spell. The curtain that served as a door between the front room and the back was a double layer of fly-block netting, each piece tacked down around three sides so you could pull them apart to walk through, but they’d fall back together and overlap completely to make it harder for the flies to get around.
Then I blinked. The fly-block netting was shimmering slightly, and I realized that I’d slipped into Aphrikan magic sensing without noticing. And the netting had a spell on it.
It was just a whisper of magic, not a strong spell like the ones on the windows and doors at home, but it was definitely there. I looked around for a third time. Nothing else in the room had the shimmer of active magic, but some things—the washtub in the corner, little Albert’s trousers, and some of the kitchen pots—had a sharper edge to them that meant they’d had magic used on them not so long ago. And there was only one person in this house who could or would have done such a thing: Rennie.
I wasn’t sure why that bothered me so much. It wasn’t like she’d run off to join the Rationalists because she believed in their ideas…at least, I didn’t think that was why she’d run off with Brant. But after all the fuss the Rationalists had made about making a go of the settlement without using magic, and all the trouble everyone else was taking to make sure nobody cast spells in the settlement, what Rennie was doing just seemed
I stewed about it all afternoon, while the boys unloaded some of the supplies from the wagon and Papa and Rennie settled the dinner plans. Everyone but me would go to Mr. Lewis’s for dinner, to talk out the best way of investigating the old settlement spells without irking people like that Mrs. Stewart. Rennie couldn’t help looking relieved to know that most everybody would be going to Mr. Lewis’s and she wouldn’t have to cook for so many people. I felt relieved right along with her; I knew good and well who’d have ended up helping with all the work.
Of course, I ended up helping Rennie with dinner anyway, but with only the three little ones and the two of us, it wasn’t so difficult. The hardest part was keeping the childings from getting underfoot. Rennie chattered on the whole time, asking about Mama and the family and her particular friends from back in Mill City, and then interrupting me in the middle of my answers. It took me a while to catch on that she always interrupted when it looked like I was going to say something about magic.
After that, I paid more mind to my conversation, and Rennie relaxed some. As soon as we finished clearing up after dinner, we put the childings to bed and went out to sit on the step, waiting for Papa and the boys and Brant to come back.
The sun was down behind the settlement palisade, but the sky hadn’t begun to darken yet. Rennie looked up and sighed. Then she turned to me and said, “That Graham boy is growing up well and then some. Is he sparking you?”
“What? Of course not.”
Rennie raised her eyebrows at me. “Why ‘of course’?”
I sighed. “Rennie, I’m barely eighteen. I haven’t even gotten through school yet. And he spent the last year out East getting educated, like Lan. He’s only been back a week or two.”
“A week or two is plenty of time, if you’re of a mind to it,” Rennie said, and looked away.
There was a short silence while I groped for the right words to ask what I wanted to know. I didn’t find any, and in the end I just blurted out, “Why?”
Rennie knew what I meant. “What does it matter now?” she said angrily. “It’s nothing to do with you.”
“Nothing to do with me?” I started getting a sick feeling in my stomach, and I clutched at the wooden charm Wash had given me. “Do you have any idea of all the things that happened because you ran off with Brant like that?”
She stared at me, plainly taken aback. “I didn’t—”
“You didn’t think,” I said flatly. “Not then, and not since. Well, if you don’t know, it’s past time somebody told you.” And it all came pouring out of me—the way Mama had looked when she came in to tell everyone that Rennie and Brant had eloped, the way she’d grieved, the cruel things the aunts had said, the row Diane had with Aunt Mari, the whispers at the wedding dinner after, and the whole awful fight with Uncle Earn.
“So don’t tell me it’s nothing to do with me,” I finished. “Or with Diane or Robbie or Lan or any of us. Because—” I choked up at last, half from remembering and half from an anger that I hadn’t even known I’d built up over all those years.
The anger and pain were so strong that I felt a flash of fear, thinking I might do to Rennie what I’d almost done to Uncle Earn at Diane’s wedding. I felt it building up and didn’t know how to stop it. I clutched at Wash’s charm and held my breath. And then I heard Rennie’s voice say softly, “I’m sorry.”
All the anger drained out of me. Rennie was gazing out into the shadows between the houses. “I was young and scared, and I did the best I could at the time.” She hesitated, then sighed and went on. “I don’t expect you to
