Chapter 17

JUNE 1ST AT THE TEMPLE OF HEALING, TRELLECH

“N ow, is there anyone you’d like to make sure you get a few minutes to speak with?” Aunt Metaia paused, just before they entered the gardens proper. Thessaly could hear the buzz of the people beyond, like bees but at more pitches. This was one of the great benevolent gatherings of the summer, bringing people to gossip and chatter and raise funds for the Temple of Healing and their patients in need.

Mama and Father might appear at one of them, but today, Aunt Metaia had been the one to make the donation for their entrance. Thessaly was certain it was a generous one, though subtly conveyed in an envelope. She’d seen the way the woman at the gate had reacted to the slip with the sum to be claimed from the bank in due course. Aunt Metaia made a point of being at this sort of thing. She considered it one obligation of the Council. And, of course, it was also useful for whatever her current projects were.

The gardens would be glorious, of course. They were some of the most diligently tended in all of Albion. The people in them would be just as brightly dressed, showing off their summer frocks and parasols and whatever other accessories.

The entire feel of the place was different from Arundel. That was nagging at her now. This, for all it was a space of no small amount of pain and suffering in the course of eventual healing, felt hopeful. Arundel felt like it was waiting for something. It wasn’t something out of a gothic novel, not exactly, but it did feel like there was an uncomfortable emptiness somewhere, just out of sight.

Though perhaps it was also the company. Being with Aunt Metaia felt glorious, as it always did. Even when they were behaving as women of their station ought to in public. Of course, Thessaly preferred their time in private, when neither of them fussed about upright posture and their best manners or the approved topics of conversation. But even with those restraints of society in place, she loved watching how Aunt Metaia wove through the world.

Thessaly considered the question. At school, she’d spent most of her time with the other duellists. At least when she wasn’t working on an assignment or essay or practising Incantation or Enchantment or some such for an exam. Now, it was complicated for her to talk to them socially, particularly in any relaxed form. That was hemmed in, limited to scheduled sessions at one of the private salles, and she wouldn’t be able to do that until after solstice. Her time was so full of dress fittings and social obligations with the Fortiers. Anyway, duelling wasn’t sociable, not the same way.

Of the girls she’d been closer to at Schola, a few would be here. More would be home with small children or expecting one, and few of the women of her class lived in Trellech all the time. Some of that was worries about the portals, but of course a new baby was apparently entirely exhausting, even with nursemaids. Thessaly would presumably find out herself in due course, but not for a bit yet. Wedding first, then the rest of it.

The other half were still busy with their own apprenticeships, and they’d drifted in different directions. Oh, it was a pleasure to chat when they ran into each other. They did from time to time, somewhere like these garden parties, or in the Fox’s Den, the Fox House club a little south from here along Trellech’s Club Row.

Thessaly also had her own membership at Bourne’s now. Father had insisted on sponsoring her. But navigating that socially was even more complex than the duellists, and she hadn’t bothered for months if she wasn’t with Childeric. There was a particular form of social warfare played there, about the precise choices of clothes, charms, and hair among the women. She could play that game and win it, but she also knew it to be absolutely exhausting. And whether or not they were there together, Bourne’s meant dealing with Childeric and his expectations. He spent a fair bit of his free time there, and so did most of his closer circle. Anything she did would get back to him immediately. That was entirely too much bother.

Now she shook her head. “I will let you know if I do.” Aunt Metaia, on the other hand, had a plan for today. She had various bits of Council business to do, not that she’d specified it to Thessaly. A word in a number of ears, arrangements to get together before the Solstice rites. But she mostly wanted to introduce Thessaly to people she didn’t know yet who would be interesting.

Aunt Metaia thought about the world and the people in it in a way Mama didn’t. Mama and Father treated their connections as levers to move the world, but Aunt Metaia went about it differently. She wanted to see what was individual about someone, what made them smile or lean forward. What caught their eye, Aunt Metaia had put it that way once, and what they ignored. It was curious, because by any reasonable measure, Aunt Metaia had more actual influence and power. Far more than Mama and Father did, more than Thessaly could herself hold now or likely in the future. Yet, Aunt Metaia thought Thessaly could do the same. Insistently.

Aunt Metaia was younger than Mama by eight years, but that eight years made a lot of difference in terms of energy and willingness to finish the argument. Thessaly knew they’d been arguing about introducing Thessaly to a wider circle of acquaintances - among other things - for the past few weeks. Maybe longer. Mama had finally thrown her hands up and said she certainly couldn’t stop Aunt Metaia doing what she was going to do. She’d then turned around and told Thessaly to be properly appreciative.

Now, her aunt steered them both through the guests, nodding and smiling at several people along the way. They made a pleasant pair to look at, at least. Thessaly was wearing one of her newer gowns. It was a muted green with decorations from white to golden yellow, with a few ribbon roses echoing the real flowers in the decorative garden beds. Aunt Metaia had not, for once, chosen the peacock green she favoured. Today she was wearing something to match Thessaly’s green, but darker, like mature leaves or grass in a meadow.

The introductions went well enough. They’d gone through four, all women a little older than Thessaly, with a range of different specialities. One - Gwendolyn Harrow - had an interest in Enchantment that might be a good mesh with Thessaly’s interests. Another, Christel Williams, was someone Thessaly remembered slightly from school. She was three years older, she’d been in Owl House, but now she was wrapping up an extensive apprenticeship in Ritual magic.

Thessaly turned around, after that, considering whether to see about getting a glass of punch or some such, when she found herself two steps from Vitus Deschamps. They were over on the edge of the party standing on one of the paved pathways that ran from the Temple itself down to the wards at the far end of the space. Aunt Metaia had found someone to talk to, and the woman Vitus was with - his mother, perhaps - patted his arm and turned to speak to someone else.

“Master Deschamps.” Thessaly offered her gloved hand, and he bowed over it, habit standing in for decision. “Delighted to see you. Not your natural habitat, I expect?”

It made him blush for an instant, then chuckle. “My mother asked if I would escort her, and of course I was glad to.” He looked over his shoulder, as if he wasn’t certain where she’d got to. Then he turned back when he was reassured it was not far and that she had already found a conversation to enjoy. “You look lovely, of course, very suitable for the setting. No illusion work today?”

Thessaly found herself smiling, the sort of smile that made her mouth and eyes crinkle. “Not today, no. I didn’t want to compete with the garden. And it’s a bit of a trick, if you don’t know what’s blooming. If this were, oh, at Aunt Metaia’s, I could plan the frock and illusions to suit.” She gestured with one hand, then glimpsed Aunt Metaia clearly giving her a little time and space.

“If I do not get a chance to speak with your aunt, please convey my greetings and well wishes.” That was entirely stilted, but there was a little quiver at the end that made her sure it was some sort of nerves.

“Oh, of course. I haven’t made progress on the lapis lazuli illusions yet. Yesterday rather got away from me. I was hoping to do some more reading tonight and tomorrow, though, it’s such an interesting problem.” It was, too, and she’d very much enjoyed working through it with him. Magistra North had also thought it an excellent problem, suitable for her attention.

“No, of course.” Vitus spread his hands. “I had an interesting discussion that evening. Actually, you might have a thought about it?”

Thessaly inclined her head. “Of course, on what topic?”

“I was at The Stream. I found myself in conversation with someone who had been working on a device to better measure the effects of industry upon the rivers and streams. He’s done a number of tests already, but they were up along the Arun, not terribly far from Arundel, as he described it, and they had some odd readings.”

“My.” Thessaly inserted one of the appropriate noises here, while she thought. “May I ask what sort of odd, or is that a trade secret?”

“He didn’t get terribly specific, and he’s terribly busy between now and solstice, though I expect to go round and see more of it after the Faire. And I’m afraid we of the Stream can get terribly arcane about what we’re trying to do.”

Thessaly snorted, then covered her mouth to muffle the sound. “Honestly, there’s an entire line of jokes about how each house is terribly arcane. It can’t all be the Owls.”

“I’m sure no one dares say such things about Fox. At least not where anyone of Fox House could hear.” That made her laugh even more audibly, which was out of mode for this sort of gathering.

“Ah, you’d be surprised. Not everyone has tact. Or tactical sense. What did your friend say?”

“Friend might be stretching it, at least yet. Agreeable acquaintance, at the moment. I suggested he look to the geology, that can sometimes cause changes in magical response. I’m sure you know that, as well?” Vitus took a half step closer, still at a polite and proper space.

“Indeed.” Thessaly considered the problem. She’d been at Arundel for a range of magical events now, including May Day’s land magic rites. She’d duelled there, which was a decided help. There were undercurrents there, but there were on every landed estate and every estate of a powerful family, and the Fortiers had been both for centuries. “It’s hard for me to distinguish the family magics from the rest of it. I do not find that my magic runs differently there, on the whole. But I have, I admit, not attempted the more delicate sorts beyond personal habits of dress and hair.” She inclined her head, teasing just a little. “I have not yet tried the more elaborate illusions there.”

“Good afternoon. Thessaly?” Aunt Metaia’s voice behind her was a pleasant alto.

“You remember Vitus Deschamps, Aunt. He bid me to convey his good wishes to you, of course.” Thessaly turned to look at her aunt, who came up beside her, offering her hand.

Vitus bowed over it properly, then straightened. “I hope you are well, Council Member. It’s a pleasure to see you both. Thessaly was very generous with her time on the topic of lapis lazuli on Thursday, and then I had a conversation with an acquaintance. You must have a wide experience of the way magic responds differently in various locations. There was an odd occurrence near Arundel, but not on the estate properly, and I was wondering about the geological features of the Weald being in play.”

No one else would have noticed it, but Thessaly knew her aunt well, and she knew Aunt Metaia was now paying close attention. “My usual line of work lies in Illusion and Materia work, but yes, I have found that. Certain places seem to restore and prolong magical effects, others seem to drain them unusually quickly. There is a whole line of theoretical work on it, but I admit I’ve found the practical analysis lacking. Not remotely rigorous enough. All of the published reports tend to be the author’s pet locations or an excuse to travel to where there is excellent fishing or shooting or other sport.”

That made Vitus chuckle. “Ah, that is a problem. If you have titles to recommend, I would be glad to consider them, though. Any bit of information might be a help. I suppose you don’t know of any other cause of issues, a known one, such as, I don’t know, one of the Fatae portals?”

It was a bold question, actually, and Thessaly was rather impressed with Vitus for asking it. The Council’s primary role, by one count, was to mediate the agreements of the Pact. They were charged with making sure that both those humans with magic and the Fatae, the various magical beings of Albion, did not cause trouble. “Step on each other’s toes like the worst sort of dance,” was how Aunt Metaia had put it once.

Her aunt paused for a moment, letting them see she was weighing what to say. “By the Arun, within a few miles of Arundel. No, there’s no particular Fatae site there. And this was recent, the problem? Not near to May Day itself?”

“Earlier on Thursday, from what they said,” Vitus offered. “Ah, not anything that might be more obvious, then. I suggested he look at the geology, see if there are any patterns there. I’m quite curious what turns up, or if the device behaves itself in other locations.” Then he caught a movement. “Pardon, my mother.” He did not dash away. He waited for a proper dismissal.

Aunt Metaia smiled at him, beneficent. “We certainly will not keep you from filial devotion.” She left a moment for Thessaly to say something, and that was entirely deliberate.

Thessaly smiled as thoroughly as she could manage. “Truly, a pleasure to see you twice in a week. My good wishes to your mother and family, and perhaps we’ll get time next week or the one after to confer again?”

“I hope so. Mistress, Magistra, a good day.” He waited just long enough for Aunt Metaia’s nod, and then immediately went to his mother, offering his arm.

“That is a pleasant man, and one with good manners, attentive to his mother,” Aunt Metaia said, considering. “Also, a man with pleasant features and better brains. I hope you get more chances to talk soon, then.” It was a very approving sort of statement, also bold.

Thessaly could feel the blush rising in her cheeks. “As you say, Aunt. Now, I was just thinking I might bring you some refreshment. Before there are more people you wish to introduce me to?”

“Grand. Ah, I see Lady Teague. I’ll have a word with her. Come find me there.”

Thessaly nodded and went off in search of the refreshments. A glass of lemonade would be just the thing.