Chapter 13
We had a good snowfall that night. Erris played the piano, and Celestina the guitar, and I showed Violet a folk dance of Tiansher. We were a mess of cultures, and nothing matched, but I found it all the more fun for that.
In the evening, I wrote a letter to Karstor explaining our situation, asking for his advice-perhaps he had some elementary books on magic or information about jinn. Karstor would want to protect Erris just as I would, and I was fairly sure he wouldn’t disapprove of a woman learning magic, although I hoped he wouldn’t ask us to return. I had come to like having the woods around me, and the space to breathe, and I didn’t want to leave Celestina and Violet vulnerable.
The next morning, Erris went out to gather firewood, and when he asked if I wanted to accompany him, I happily agreed. This, more than anything, seemed proof that his mood had changed.
The air made my lungs feel scrubbed clean on the inside. There was snow on the ground now, a few inches deep in most places and pocked with animal tracks.
“Snow hare,” Erris said with a smile, pointing at the soft Y-shapes, the big hind feet splayed forward and the small front feet behind.
“Oh, I wish we’d see one. They must be cute.”
“But shy.”
The light was beautiful in the morning, full of golden patches where the sun struck, and blue shadows. The snow squeaked under our feet. Erris carried a basket in one hand and with the other, a walking stick he had found with the umbrellas by the door. His foot was obviously still troubling him, and he limped.
“Does it hurt?” I asked. It might be a difficult subject, but I was too concerned not to ask.
“No. I’ve just lost feeling in the part that broke off.”
“Even after you fixed it?”
“Well, we glued it in place, but it’s not the same. I’m wondering if it damaged the enchantment somehow.” He stopped walking. “Nim, this morning after you wound me, I sat and reread every word of Ordorio’s notes. I think those were studies he did while in school.” There was an ominous tone in his voice.
“Oh?”
“He talks about the clockwork mice, and the cat. Their bodies broke down quickly, strained by the magic, he guessed. He was always mending them and renewing the enchantment, but finally he let it go and put them back to their bodies and lifted the death sleep. The sick cat died. The mice were fine.”
His brown eyes met mine briefly, and then he looked out into the snow-dusted tangle of bare branches beyond us. “The good news is, I am starting to believe you’re right. Annalie sent us here because Ordorio is either the person who cursed me, or he knows who did. Maybe he even knows where my body is. The bad news is, I don’t think the feeling in my foot is coming back. My whole body has felt a little sluggish since I was in the water. This body isn’t going to last forever.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be gathering firewood,” I said nervously.
“No, I want to,” he said. “I need to be out here. My magic is stirring. I need to teach it to Violet.” He started to walk again.
“I was reading about human magic last night from one of Ordorio’s books,” I said. “It all sounds so… destructive.”
“You know, back home we had a magic tutor,” Erris said. “He said a lot of wise things I barely paid attention to at the time, but I find now make a lot of sense. He talked about magic of all the races, and he said that human magic is often thought of as destructive, because a lot of humans don’t value their connection to the natural world. They kill birds for sport, they hunt whales for oil, they cut down trees and don’t plant new ones. Their magic is thought of similarly-potent, but lethal.”
“I’m not like that!” I said. “And I don’t want to be. And why do fairies get such
“No, we’re not,” he agreed. “Nature can be violent and heartless, and humans can be as selfless and good and heroic as anyone else. That’s the kind of sorceress I imagine you would be.”
My cheeks warmed despite the cold. I had never thought of myself as becoming a sorceress, but that was what I was after, wasn’t it?
“Our tutor was always saying how everything has a spirit. Magic just taps into that. So it’s all about how you use the connection, isn’t it?” He grinned. “I really sound like I know what I’m talking about.”
“Don’t you?” I laughed. “Please tell me you’re not making this up so I’ll feel better.”
“No. Though I was just thinking how much I’ve grown up.” He sounded sober at the thought. He gathered a few sticks from the ground, his first concession to the original purpose of our outing. “We all learned some things about magic, politics, other races, propriety… things royal children should know. But it isn’t until just now that I realized how much I know.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
“If I’m ever going to be a king, it is.” His brow furrowed, and he said nothing for a moment. We had come to a thin creek that ran through the woods. He wordlessly handed me his basket while he stepped across the frozen water, putting his bad foot forward first with the walking stick for stability, his other arm out for balance. I leaped across after him, and he took the basket back.
“A part of me was hoping my body really was lost forever,” he said. “I’m terrified of ruling the fairy kingdom. I was never meant for something like that. But it’s true what you say. I hated Luka when we were children. And from all I’ve heard of Luka as king, he hasn’t improved much.”
“You’d be a good ruler,” I said.
“Would I?” he cried. “I’ve lived just seventeen years-maybe eighteen by now-but I come from a prior generation. I hardly know what’s been going on. And when I was last alive, I wasn’t interested in anything that wasn’t fun. Is a kind but unwilling king any better than a cruel but competent one? I’m not so sure.”
Once again, we stopped walking. The air was still, just as we were, but the high, thin sunshine of winter was shining on the white world. I touched his sleeve. “But are you unwilling? What do you really want? To die now? To be king? To melt away unnoticed?”
He made a face. “The last option is tempting.” He paused. “I don’t really want to die.”
“I feel sure you would make a better king than someone cruel,” I said. “I think it would be very hard at first, and then get easier.” Part of me wondered why I was encouraging him to be king. I felt I was pushing him farther from my own life, and yet, I could see that future for him. “You’re a brave person. And you take care of other people. Very good qualities for a king.”
“Do you really see that in me?” He looked at me carefully, as if searching for a reflection of himself he had never before seen.
“I do.”
“I think you’re speaking of yourself,” he said softly. “I think it’s you who would make a good queen.”
My chin briefly trembled. I could imagine myself a sorceress more readily than a queen, and neither would be easy. I had been raised into singing and dancing at a royal court, but it was another thing altogether to envision myself on a raised platform where the king and queen sat, garbed in jewel-colored silks, surrounded by gold platters of food and scores of willing servants. Of course, the fairy kingdom would not look the same, but the feel of it must be similar.
“Well, I’m not royalty, I’m afraid,” I said. Not to mention, I was human.
“You can be an optimist about my fate, but not about your own?” Erris said.
“It’s always easier to be optimistic about someone else.”
“If the job was offered, though, would you take it?” he asked, looking at me.
“Can a human be the fairy queen?”
“Oh, yes. In fact, there were times in which it was preferred. Fairies believe that a little diversity is a good thing.”
“Well, then, of course I would take it. Without hesitation,” I said, my heart beating fast. Which was not exactly true-I might hesitate, but the end result would be the same. I had come this far. If Erris asked me to be his queen, I would say yes and manage it somehow.
