Page 50 of Enchanted Net
Vitus took his time examining the ring, holding it delicately but securely between his fingers. “The usual sort of charms for a ring. Find it if it slips off, to keep it clean and such.” The comment sounded like it was routine, that it was entirely what he expected. “A central - yes, that’s a ruby, not a spinel. Doubly refractive, of course. But moonstone, among the diamonds surrounding it, that’s interesting.” His tone suggested a professional neutrality, or at least he was trying for one.
“Not what you expected?” Thessaly leaned forward for a second, then realised it would change the light he was using and made herself settle back. “It’s a family piece, or the stones were. They had them reset for me.”
“It’s a ring about, well.” Vitus looked up, flushing slightly again. “The mix of male and female fertility, more or less. Though the ruby is dark enough and shading enough toward blue that it’s a reasonable enough hue for someone of Fox House. Both ruby and moonstone have protective qualities, too. But, pardon. More protection of you as a thing to be kept safe for future intended use than, say, a ring chosen for happiness or joy or love.”
Thessaly let out a puff of breath. “I suppose in the circumstances, I will take the protection I can get.” She felt like the air had been knocked out of her. It wasn’t a surprise. She hadn’t expected romantic adoration in any part of this betrothal. But she had hoped for the space for it. Apparently, she was the only one who had, the only one foolish enough to think that was even a possibility.
“There’s a little hope from the diamond. It’s often used for clarity of thought, and for preventing misunderstandings.” Vitus took one more look at it. “None of them are talismanic stones, that’s what I was wondering. Or worrying about, I suppose.” He admitted the last softly.
“I’m glad to know.” She wasn’t sure what she felt about the fact it wasn’t a talisman. Was she not worth the bother there, or was it a nod to wanting her to agree to whatever she wore like that? There was no way to tell without asking. Thessaly held out her hand, and he slipped the ring back on after a moment’s hesitation. She felt it settle again. “Both that it’s not doing things I didn’t know about, and what the inclinations are.” Before she could say anything else, there was a voice coming up from over the hill.
“Mistress Thessaly? There’s a caller. Your mother would like you to join her.” That was Fitchley.
It wasn’t remotely ladylike to swear, even the sort of language common at Schola. Thessaly stood, suddenly. “I have to go. Thank you so much for coming. And for telling me I’m not alone in thinking things strange. Wait until we’ve been gone a couple of minutes and then you can slip out. I left the warding so you could.”
She bent, before she could think better of it, to kiss Vitus on the cheek. They were well back in the orchard. Fitchley wouldn’t see Vitus. Then she was picking up her skirts a little and heading through the path, slipping the talisman in its box into the slit in her skirts and the pocket underneath. “Coming, Fitchley. Just a moment.”
Chapter38
JUNE 29TH AT THE DESCHAMPS FAMILY HOME
In some ways, it was good that Vitus was so incredibly busy. He’d made it out to the Faire each day for at least a few hours, and he had hopes that some of the conversations would bear fruit. He’d scheduled an initial discussion with Theo Carrington about work. And he’d spent his spare hours and minutes rummaging through notes about what kinds of things might be of interest and a sense of costs and time frame.
In all the interstitial spaces, he thought about that conversation with Thessaly and the two funerals. He’d also stewed on whether there was anything he could do that might help anyone that didn’t involve inscriptions and rocks, which brought him back to Thessaly again. She’d sent him a note, yesterday, saying that the talisman was working very well. She’d had two decent nights of sleep. But it had been a short note, forwarded on from the Fox House club. Even he wasn’t able to spend more than an hour staring at it to suck out every drop of possible obscured meaning, so he’d gone back to his professional needs.
The Council challenge itself had been set for the autumnal equinox, which gave everyone near three months to prepare, considered a generous term. It was Vitus’s first time doing a piece for a challenger. But Niobe had done pieces for four challengers since Vitus had started his apprenticeship, and she’d explained the different potential approaches each time. Some people wanted something for protection from whatever happened in the challenge space, some wanted a way to bolster a particular magic or skill they had. Some wanted something more obscure, more about the mental aspect of the challenge than anything else.
Niobe’s piece for Justus Livingstone in 1885 had been focused on having the knowledge he needed come to mind quickly and reliably, and he’d come out of the challenge successfully. And with a generous bonus to Niobe afterwards, too, actually, besides recommending her to others in need of talisman work. And her piece for the challenge in 1883 hadn’t been successful. Hesperidon Warren had triumphed that day. But the challenger there had come out of it unharmed and able to try again another day. She’d been less generous, but it had still been a help to business. Vitus was suspecting Theo Carrington would want something more like protection. But part of what he was working through had to do with some newspaper references and general material about the family.
All of which meant that he was home on Saturday evening. His parents had received a last-minute invitation to join one of Father’s clients for a supper at one of the restaurants that set up at the Faire. Vitus had laid out his papers in the library, half a dozen books spread out in front of him. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, because he’d read the same three pages five times and he wasn’t getting any further.
“Anyone home? It’s - oh, there you are!” Lucas swung the door to the library open before Vitus could do more than turn in his chair toward the sound. He stood, reflexively, and his brother came over, clapping him on the shoulder in a cheerful embrace. “I was wondering.”
“We didn’t expect you tonight. Didn’t you say you had plans?” Vitus ran his hand through his hair, then tried again, because some of it, yes, was sticking up.
“My plans fell through.” Lucas shrugged. “The girl I was going to take dancing has a more serious suitor. I wish her well.” Vitus blinked at that, then pivoted and sat down on the end of the sofa with a soft thud.
“You were seeing someone?” Lucas hadn’t mentioned. Though they didn’t get a lot of chance to talk, Lucas had a limited amount of leave. That went triple for anything Lucas didn’t want to discuss with their parents around. “Mama and Papa are at the Faire for a supper with the Bellrights. I don’t expect them back until at least half nine.”
“So we’ve got a bit. Half-seven now, if you didn’t hear the chime. Look, how about I get a tray of cheese on toast, maybe an egg, and bring it back? You get yourself to a good pause with your papers.” Lucas seemed in good humour, whatever the rest of his day had held, and Vitus certainly didn’t have the wits to argue. “Ten minutes, maybe fifteen.” He went off without waiting for more answer than a nod, and Vitus heard him heading for the back stairs and the staff’s sitting room and the kitchen.
By the time Lucas came back with a tray, Vitus had cleared off the table. He’d stacked his books in a neat pile and had even fetched a bottle of wine and opened it. Nothing fancy, of course, but Papa prided himself on being a man who preferred wine and all its upper class connotations, over beer or ale or cider.
Lucas came in, beaming. “Here we are, then, that should hold us. Now, what has you here stewing over books?”
“Trust you to start in right away.” The thing about Lucas is that he didn’t dodge around delicate questions. From what Vitus had seen from his friends from Boar House, none of them were inclined to. It was just a question of how obvious the charge was. It suited Lucas well in the cavalry, where straight talking and common sense apparently went a long way.
“That’s not an answer.” Lucas leaned back, and Vitus focused on the plate in front of him, rather than look back at his brother. “Here, I’ll start. I was walking out with a girl, but we both knew it wasn’t serious. Magical, obviously, but she wants someone who’ll settle down and marry sooner than later, and I’m not that. Eventually, I’m sure.” He shrugged, then considered and undid his uniform jacket to end up in shirtsleeves, twisting to fold the jacket over the chair beside him. “You?”
It wasn’t anything Vitus had said out loud, not to anyone yet. He’d barely said it inside his own head, because it was ridiculous and impossible and wouldn’t do him any good. But here he was, and Lucas was asking, and Lucas was probably the only person he could say it to. “In confidence from everyone?”
“Everyone. I’ll make oath on it, if you want.” Then he held up his hand. “I swear on my tin soldiers.”
That made Vitus laugh, meeting his brother’s eyes. “A solemn oath, even more binding than one on the Silence. For you.” Lucas grinned back at him and then just waited. He had grown both more patient and more determined since their nursery days. Vitus took a breath. “I’ve fallen in love with someone where it’s impossible. And I’m worried about her.”
He heard Lucas let out a huff of breath. “Oh.” Then the tone of his voice changed. “Have a bite or two of food, some of that wine. And then tell me a little more, would you? Have you, anyone else?”
“Who would I tell? Not her, though she trusts me.” Vitus took his brother’s sensible advice, taking a few bites of his supper, drinking a swallow or two of wine, then setting the glass down carefully. “Thessaly Lytton-Powell. We’d talked about her before, but more now.”
