Chapter 20 Nevelyn Tin’vori

"So much for visitors," Nevelyn whispered to herself.

She climbed down a step stool, waiting until her feet were solidly on the ground to inspect her handiwork. She was standing in the center of her apartment. It consisted of three very small rooms. A decent-sized living room that Nevelyn had not bothered to furnish. A kitchen that was cramped and tiny, which led to a bedroom that felt even more cramped and tiny. It had already been difficult to imagine ever inviting a guest here, but her newest addition eliminated the possibility entirely.

Nevelyn had installed four identical hook rings. Each one glinted on a different wall, set just a hand's length lower than the ceiling. From each ring, a black rope ran to the center of the room, each stretched taut. They all attached to the dangling beginnings of a magnificent black dress. Nevelyn had measured everything, considered each angle with meticulous care. If someone were to slide into the finished version of the dress with the help of a footstool, they would remain suspended in midair, unable to touch the ground below them. She circled once, testing each rope, but even her full weight was not enough to make them do more than tremble. She'd used most of her money on these particular ropes. A vendor had promised they were the strongest ones.

In that morning quiet, she heard a low moan. Nevelyn's eyes swung from the dress to her apartment's interior wall. She padded over on bare feet and set her ear to the cracked plaster. There was another moan. Followed by a lower voice. The distinct groan of a bed. Nevelyn sat there listening to her neighbors. Her own loneliness loomed then. Like an empty stomach that had gone days without food. She stood in a state of paralysis for several minutes.

Her mind was the only thing that could free her in such moments. Alter the paradigm. The sounds were not a reflection of her own loneliness—but rather a way to measure the current effectiveness of her magic. Yes, that was a better way to view it. When she'd first moved in, the noise of their lovemaking had been echoing and everywhere. There'd been no room in her own apartment—no combination of shut doors or well-placed blankets—that could fully keep out the sound. Now, after just a few magical applications, she had to strain to hear them through the wall.

Nevelyn knew that was not good enough. She needed this entire room to be completely soundproof. It would require even more of her precious magic. Ren Monroe's contact had provided what they could. A vessel and the name of someone who never collected their magical stipend. Nevelyn had stood in line on the first day of that month and been awed as someone casually handed her free magic to use. That was unthinkable back in Ravinia. Everything there had a cost. Kathor, though, was rich with spells and enchantments. She'd learned that in just a few weeks living here. A person saw magic everywhere they walked.

Based on the current schedule, she'd have one more chance to refill her magic before their plans were fully in motion. That final stipend would need to go almost entirely to preparing the room. She could not afford to waste any of it—that much was certain.

Outside she spied subtle traces of red shooting through the endless gray. It was nearly sunrise. Time to go. She left the couple to their fun and got dressed. There was a forged letter sitting on the kitchen table between two bottles of wine. Nevelyn folded the letter carefully before placing it and the bottles into her satchel. Determined to win the day, she trotted down her steps into a side alley and walked with her head high. She would look the morning right in the eyes, as her father used to say.

There was a great deal of work waiting for her at the playhouse. Several ripped seams from the evening's performance. Nevelyn arrived first. It allowed her to get in extra work, but it also guaranteed she would not miss any gossip. Her plan would not work if there'd been a change in Edna's relationship status.

Faith and John arrived next—quietly debating something they'd read in the morning paper. Kersey came after them. Nevelyn was so focused on the pattern in front of her that she didn't even see the woman enter. It was as if she'd used the waxways to port there.

Finally, Edna arrived. The girl was always quite put together. Her hair was neat and curled. She'd shadowed her eyes, colored her cheeks, plucked her eyebrows. For all that, she was not a very pretty creature. Maybe Nevelyn's opinion was soured by the treatment she'd received, but there was a pinched quality to the girl's appearance. It reminded her of someone who'd just sipped curdled milk.

The group worked and chatted, worked and chatted. Edna offered no revelations about her situation. Apparently, she still liked the man she'd been dating. Nevelyn waited an hour, long enough for any proper news to surface, before excusing herself for a break.

In the dark of the underground labyrinth, she removed the small letter from her pocket. Her fingers traced the words. It had taken quite a bit of practice. She'd found a single note in one of Edna's pockets from her current love interest. It had only been one sentence long, but that had been more than enough to rehearse his handwriting. The way he darted too far down on his t's and the rather strange loop he made whenever he scribbled the S in his own name: Saul Bathlow.

She'd kept her forged letter brief and to the point. She didn't want eloquence to throw Edna off the trail. Upstairs, Nevelyn glided across the backstage area. With such a massive work crew—and so many shifts involved—the mail wall served as the main source of communication. There were small, open compartments for every worker that ran from floor to ceiling. Nevelyn found the slot that had been marked with Edna's name and slid the letter carefully inside.

Most of the correspondence was between crew members. A note to remind someone on the next shift of what work someone had or hadn't done. But Nevelyn knew outsiders used the wall to leave notes for busy spouses or friends. She just needed Edna to see the letter.

There was movement on her left. She looked up in time to lock eyes with Tessa Brood. A shiver ran down Nevelyn's spine. She'd been so focused on her current task that she'd nearly forgotten her true enemy was in these same halls. Living the life that Nevelyn had been denied. Tessa looked away first, inspecting her own mail slot. The girl's bright hair was up in a tight bun that drew out the sharpness of her cheekbones. She had a pointed chin and narrow eyes. She was beautiful in the same way that most predators were beautiful. A luring that brought its prey in just a step, close enough to kill.

Not yet. I will face you soon enough.

Nevelyn knelt down and pretended to inspect her own mail slot. She heard Tessa leave and was about to leave too when she saw a slash of bright ribbon. She'd never inspected her own mail slot carefully. Only a passing glance, because the seamstresses rarely communicated in that fashion. She reached inside and found there were several notes piled on top of each other. All for her.

"What in the world…?"

There were four folded slips of paper. All identical, except the newest one. Someone had taken the time to punch a hole in the paper and tie a lovely red ribbon through. Nevelyn realized this was likely because she'd missed the other notes. She unfolded the first slip, thinking certainly it was from Ren Monroe. The handwriting was cramped and messy and signed by another name:

Do you like coffee?—Garth

She could not help smiling as she unfolded the second, hoping she had them in order.

Gods, you must be a tea person. I've obviously offended you.—Garth

And then the third:

Or maybe you're religious? And my use of the term ‘gods' has offended you. Lovely. I'm off to a horrible start with all of this, aren't I?—Garth

Finally, she opened the one with the ribbon.

I've figured it out. You don't know how to read! Which means I could write anything here and not even be slightly embarrassed about it. For example, I could write that the first time I saw you… I nearly called you beautiful. I could write that I wish I had been brave enough to just come out and say it. I could write that I'm afraid I won't get the chance to say it again, even if it's true. Anyways, it's a shame you don't know how to read. If you find someone who can read, please tell them to not say any of this out loud. I'd like to be the first one to tell you.—Garth

Nevelyn felt like her face might go numb from smiling. It was delightful, unexpected, and utterly terrifying. She read them one more time from beginning to end and fought the urge to clutch them to her chest. The last person to call her beautiful had been her father. Some small part of her had imagined she'd never hear the word applied to her again. Surely, this was the first time in her life that anyone had ever written a note to her. There was no ulterior motive either. No game behind what he was saying. He'd written these purely with the hope that she might write him back.

"Gods, what has you grinning like such a fool?"

Edna appeared at Nevelyn's shoulder. She was glancing nosily down, but Nevelyn had already folded the slips back up. She shoved the notes in her pocket and fought the blush that was rising in her cheeks.

"It's nothing."

"Nothing," Edna repeated. "What a fitting word for you."

The line was delivered so casually that Nevelyn almost missed that it was intended to be cruel. Her eyes flicked to the forged letter and back to Edna. She left the room, continuing to play the part of the mouselike creature Edna wanted. There was some small satisfaction in hearing the noise of delight the other girl made when she found a waiting letter in her mail slot.

A normal workday followed.

Edna had returned to the room buzzing about going on a date that night. Nevelyn's forged letter had instructed Edna to wait after work. Saul would be coming by to pick her up and escort her to one of the finer restaurants nearby. The others hooted and joked, but Edna's shallow joy filled the room like sunlight all afternoon.

One by one, their crew departed. There was no show tonight. Once every ten days, the entire playhouse emptied itself out. An actor might stay behind to rehearse lines—but Nevelyn knew it was by far the quietest the Nodding Violet ever got. She had been waiting for this specific day, counting on a mostly empty playhouse.

Edna took a small break. Nevelyn could tell she was starting to grow restless. She took advantage of the girl's absence. There were two wine bottles that had been stowed in her bag all day. She took them both out and used a small knife to remove the first cork. The stuff smelled cheap, but that didn't matter. Nevelyn found the spare glasses in a corner cabinet and set them out. She poured a rather healthy measure of wine, poured less in her own, and waited for Edna's return.

Eventually the girl's shoes came clicking down the wooden floors of the labyrinth. Nevelyn heard her enter. When she spied the wine, Edna snorted. No doubt she had some sort of insult ready on her lips, but Nevelyn was quite done with that part of their relationship.

Before the girl could speak, Nevelyn turned the charm on her necklace. She set the golden side facing out and drew on her magic. This was her true secret. Ren Monroe had only witnessed half of her gift. Certainly, she could vanish from someone's attention and memory. She could make herself into nothing. But her power ran in the other direction too. There was a push and a pull. She could also force someone to behold her, to prize her above all else. That was what she did now.

The spell struck Edna with full force. Nevelyn watched the girl's face twitch unpleasantly. Her lips curled into an unnatural smile. The girl's eyes lit up at the sight of Nevelyn. She slid into the seat across the table like a fish falling into a barrel.

"There's wine?"

"Just for you," Nevelyn intoned. "Go on. Have a drink."

Edna eagerly obeyed. It sloshed down her chin a little, but she took two healthy gulps. Her lips smacked together before she sighed delightedly.

"It's delicious. Where did you get it?"

"Have some more. I brought plenty."

Obediently, the girl tilted back again. She kept drinking until she'd finished the entire cup. As soon as she set the glass back down on the table, Nevelyn filled it to the brim. Edna was staring at her with open fascination.

"You have nice hair," she noted. "I like the little curls."

"Thank you," Nevelyn said. She was carefully maintaining the spell. It was always a delicate balance. She'd learned this lesson as a girl. Her father had taught her that magic craved order until it was ordered, and then it craved release. To keep Edna within her enchantment took more than a smile. "I don't like your hair. I really don't like anything about you."

Edna wanted to frown. She wanted to offer her own insult in return, Nevelyn was sure, but the power of the spell was too strong. Instead, she raised her glass.

"Cheers to that."

Another huge swig. And another. Nevelyn allowed the moment to stretch. She could see Edna's discomfort growing. The girl tried to fight that feeling off by drinking more—sip after desperate sip. The glass emptied again. Nevelyn opened the other bottle and quietly poured. Edna reached up and scratched at her collarbone. The spot was growing more and more red. There was no poison in the wine. Nothing so crass as that. Her twitches were growing more frequent because the spell was keeping her bound, and she wanted nothing more than to dismiss Nevelyn entirely.

"Something wrong, Edna?"

The girl twitched again. "My… well… I'm not sure."

She drank another healthy measure of wine. Her lips were starting to purple. Like bruises. The stain had dried along her chin, too, which had the unhappy effect of making her look a touch feral.

"You're wondering why you can't leave," Nevelyn offered.

Edna itched the spot on her collarbone again. Her words were starting to slur.

"Yes. What… why can't I leave?"

"The door is right there. No one's forcing you to stay."

Edna heard her but didn't move. Her fingers were tapping nervously on the table.

"Saul was coming to meet me."

"Was he?"

Edna nodded fervently, though she seemed to doubt her own words now. It was almost as if nothing outside this room existed anymore. There was only Nevelyn.

"Your hair is really pretty."

"You already told me that."

"Did I?"

The girl blushed at her mistake. Nervous, she reached once more for the wine. Nevelyn had never experienced magic like this herself. She did not know if anyone else possessed a spell quite like hers. She suspected, though, that it was rather unpleasant. Likely, the girl felt like crawling out of her own skin. Instinct would tell her to leave. Get up and go find out if Saul was waiting by the back door. Edna knew she did not actually want to be here with this girl she despised. But Nevelyn's magic was impossible to resist.

"Here. Have one more glass."

The girl's hands were already trembling. Her eyes looked unfocused. One thing that could be said for such a small girl, so slight of frame, was that it wouldn't have taken much more than that first glass to get her drunk. Nevelyn thought one more pour would be enough for her purposes.

"I'm… I'm going to be late."

"No worries there," Nevelyn replied. "Saul isn't coming, Edna."

Wine sloshed out of her cup. Edna hissed a curse before drinking deeply again.

"Not coming? But he wrote a letter… the sweetest letter…"

"I wrote that letter."

Edna's face looked stricken. Only for a moment, though. She fell back to adoration a breath later. "You won't remember any of this tomorrow," Nevelyn informed her. "Not a word of it. The amount of wine you've had? It could knock out someone twice your size. But the others will remember that you stayed late. They'll remember you were meeting your friend here. It won't be hard for them to piece it all together. Saul arrived. The two of you looked around the empty playhouse and thought it was a fine opportunity to be alone together. A little drinking. A little fun. If only it hadn't gotten so out of hand…"

Edna set the empty glass down on the table. "The… the world is spinning."

Nevelyn stood. She offered one final push of magic.

"Come with me. I know where you can lie down."

Edna agreed. She followed Nevelyn up the stairs. She paused briefly to listen for noises before aiming her ward toward Anna Mata's dressing room. The unquestioned star of their current run.

"Why don't you go to sleep?"

Edna agreed again. She set out her own cloak, curled up like a baby, and fell asleep in almost no time at all. Nevelyn released the magic. Her hands were trembling with the effort. It was by far the longest casting she'd ever done. Suddenly she felt an enormous thirst. Her throat was a desert. Her lips cracked. There was a half-filled cup on the nearest table. She gulped down the entire thing.

Edna was already snoring. Nevelyn looked down at her.

"You poor thing," she said. "At least you deserve this."

And then she set to work. It took the better part of an hour. She patiently removed Edna's clothing, trying her best to keep the girl covered. Anna wore a lovely white dress for the opening scenes. The material was gossamer and delicate. She slid Edna into the dress before taking the rest of the wine and creating stains all along the front.

Next, she set out several coats, stacked neatly in one corner, and constructed a makeshift bed. She didn't want Edna waking in the middle of the night due to discomfort. She might flee the scene. Far better if she remained comfortable. Far better if someone found her here in the early morning hours. After finishing that task, Nevelyn went back to the seamstress room. A quick rinse of all the glasses. She stole back the letter she'd forged and headed upstairs. Nevelyn glided through the shadowed backstage with a smile on her face.

"One down. Two to go."

The back door would be locked on the outside, but magicked so that she could still leave. She gave the door a shouldering heave. It felt cool and lovely. Night had come, bringing a fine breeze with it. She turned back to close the door and jumped out of her skin. A man was moving toward her through the shadows. She let out a clipped scream.

"Whoa. Gods! I'm sorry, Nan. I was just… It's just me."

It was Garth. Nevelyn's heart was thundering in her chest. She couldn't have been more scared. Worse, now there was a witness. Someone who'd seen her leave the scene last. If it came down to questioning, would Garth give her away? She forced those thoughts carefully aside.

"What are you doing here? Stalking me?"

He sputtered at that. "No. Well, I… I wrote to you?"

Nevelyn remembered the slips. She'd tucked them into the front pocket of her jacket.

"I know. I found them today."

He offered a hesitant smile. "You didn't think they were funny?"

Nevelyn snorted. "No. I mean, yes. They were funny."

"Oh good. So you can read."

"Of course I can read, you prat."

He laughed. "Well, that makes one of us. I had to get Daft to write all of those for me."

"Oh. Is that so? Well then, why isn't he here? Seems like he should be the one to take me to dinner.…"

Garth startled. "To dinner?"

"Gods. Please don't tell me you waited here this whole time and still aren't going to treat me to a proper meal. I'm famished."

She started walking away from the back door of the theater. Garth trailed her. He was smiling to himself. In truth, Nevelyn didn't know what else to do. She would have preferred to walk straight home, close the door to her apartment, and anxiously await the morning. Garth's presence complicated things. Her best strategy was to keep him close. And what was closer than a date?

He was rattling off suggestions for where they might go. Nevelyn half listened but could not help glancing over her shoulder one final time. The playhouse door was shut. No sign of Edna. No hint of a stagehand who'd witnessed her dark deed. Nevelyn had always had quite an imagination, but she supposed real life was not like the stories she'd grown up reading. Full of spies and romance and foul magic.

Lost in thought, she almost failed to notice the way Garth kept letting his elbow bump into hers as they walked. It was so obvious that she finally slid her arm through his. He looked as if he'd been waiting for that. The arrangement felt comfortable, natural. The two of them settled into a rhythm as they walked through the streets.

Well,she thought. Maybe there is a little romance after all.