Chapter 30

THAT MORNING

A nnice kept looking around. This time, Griffin was being far more direct. First, they went out again, down the ramp, across the street from the Courts, and then cut through a narrow street into Club Row. Griffin gestured at a couple of the buildings, the clubs he went to now and again. Annice had heard about the Schola House clubs, as most people had, but they were entirely mysterious to her, of course. No one she'd talked to at any length had been in one. Well, except Griffin, and presumably also Charlus.

Then they were cutting through another small side street, Griffin veering around a cart that was parked awkwardly on one side of the street. One more crossing, this time one of the major streets, and he was rolling off to the left, a residential street that curved around. They were coming up on the back side of the houses. None of them were large, but they were detached, the way more posh houses were in Whitby, not row houses separated only by narrow alleys and paths at best.

He took a sudden sharp right into the back of one house, and she found herself facing what must have been a barn. There was a large door on the front, filled in with newer stonework around a smaller sliding door. Griffin came to a stop in front of it, then glanced up at her. "Previously the stables for the couple of houses along here, with some staff rooms over. Fully made over before I moved in, of course." He did something to the door, presumably the warding, and then gestured, and the door slid smoothly to one side, like any stable door. Well, with rather a lot less noise than the average stable door.

Griffin gestured. "Go ahead. I'll get the door behind us."

Annice stepped in to find a space that was simultaneously rather warm and welcoming, and yet oddly sparse. The first thing she noticed was that there was nothing in the way of furniture near her. And then, a moment later, that the floor was all tile, but no rugs of any kind. She glanced back as Griffin closed the door. He pulled up beside her. "You can get out, whenever you'd like, from this side. And I'm glad to tie you into the warding if you'd like to be able to come and go. Needn't decide now." Then he went on without waiting for her answer. "The loo's that door further down on the left. Let me just sort a few things in my bedroom. If you want to wash up, do that, and then I'll see about putting tea together."

That at least seemed sensible, and she nodded, keeping her carpetbag with her. The bathroom was ridiculously big, with a large copper tub along the shorter side, a sink, all the modern magical conveniences, some of which she'd only heard about. The only odd bit was that there were hand holds mounted in multiple places on the wall by the tub. She found the water from the tap was hot almost right away, once whatever was in the pipes had come out.

When she came out again, Griffin was leaning against the frame of the door on the other side, to the right of where they'd come in. He'd left the chair somewhere - his bedroom, maybe, she didn't see it - and had a cane leaning against his hip. "Everything you needed there?"

"Um. Yes. Though it's..." She stopped, because she wasn't at all sure what she actually wanted to say.

"Mum complains about the lack of rugs. They catch on the chair, though, and also the cane or crutches. And the heat comes up through the floor. That's a nice magical touch, brilliant of the folks who sorted it out. Rugs make it a little harder to stabilise." Griffin waved a hand. "And I keep thinking about some sort of dining table or something of the kind, but then I want to cut across spaces in the chair. I'd have to keep going around at awkward angles, and so I don't get a table."

Annice considered before venturing. "But not the chair here and now?" There was something more relaxed about him here.

"Not for the moment. Easier to manage in the kitchen for what I have in mind." He considered, then gestured. "Besides the wide open space, there's the kitchen here. The stairs upstairs are at the back, but I'm rarely up there. If you decide you want to stay longer, that's where the guest room is, and another loo and bath and storage. My bedroom." He nodded across the room. "Sitting room by the fireplace." There was a large sofa there, a broad teal-blue of plush fabric, with a cosy looking blanket folded neatly across the top. "And then my study and bookshelves off to the right. By which I mean a desk and a couple of reading chairs."

She snorted. "You seem to read a lot." Not that she didn't like a bit, but she thought Griffin did a lot more, and not just for work. "Tea?"

"Tea." He pushed forward, swinging the cane into place. There was a slight wobble as he did before he rebalanced. "Sit at the table if you like. You've had a long day working."

He had too, but she wasn't going to argue. First, he was right about her having had a long day. Second, she was fairly sure that being a solicitor meant he was much better at arguing than she was. And third, she wanted to watch how he was in his own space. She could learn a lot from that, and she needed to.

Watching was actually both informative and also somehow lovely. Griffin obviously knew exactly where everything was, and he shifted from task to task with an elegance of movement that meant he didn't have to take many steps. The kettle had been filled with water and put on the stove. Then he was drawing scones out of a stasis box on the counter, plates from a cupboard, a butter dish. "Tea in here, or would you rather by the fireplace?"

The chair she was sitting in was perfectly reasonable, but it was a wood kitchen chair, and that sofa had looked deliberately comfortable. "Sofa?" she suggested. "Do you need me to carry anything?"

He grinned over his shoulder. "Not this time, no, but thank you. The kettle should be done any minute." He loaded the various bits onto a tray. "I'm assuming you'll want a proper meal later. The inn has a kitchen. They can do all sorts of ordinary things, or send out for something else. I am assuming you'll want an early night and some time on your own to sort out the day."

Her mouth twitched, then she was smiling. "Do you read minds or something? Yes. I am enjoying this, actually, but there's been a lot, and I'm still thinking about your actual problem, and, um. Everything." And she knew she was likely going to be staying in Trellech more than just overnight. She wanted to see the theatre. And she wanted - this was something she had no right to ask for - to see Griffin being this kind of cheerful.

Before she could get lost in her own thoughts, and before Griffin could reply, the kettle sang out. He turned around then, busily pouring hot water into the teapot, then pulling a small rolling cart with a flat top out from next to the stove. It had handles just about at his shoulder width, and he was leaning on them just a little. He hooked the cane over one wrist. "Take your pick on the sofa. Though if you wanted to pull over one of the side tables for more space, feel free."

It meant she got to go along to the sofa, which faced a pleasant fireplace - unlit, of course, but the room was comfortably warm already. The mantle had a series of what looked like watercolours of what she suspected were all places in Trellech. Some of them looked like places they'd walked by. One was the front of the Courts, and there was one of a massive garden that might be the Temple of Healing. He took a little longer, but then he was sliding the cart into place and murmuring a charm. "That will keep it steady. Here we go. Scone? Or there are some biscuits. And shall I pour, or would you rather? There's cream and sugar, there."

"Attentive housekeeper, then? With how long you were gone?" Annice was still trying to make sense of the space, honestly, but it felt alive with Griffin here, and maybe it hadn't otherwise.

"She's very good. And she doesn't fuss at me. It's part of why we get on well." Griffin shrugged, and then poured without asking again, handing her a ceramic mug, a sturdy one, of tea and letting her add her own cream and sugar. She cupped her hands around the mug, not sure what to say. Once he had his own tea, he settled back into the sofa and let out a contented sigh.

Annice shifted a little. "You like things to be comfortable, don't you? And also, um." There wasn't an elegant way to say this, she was fairly sure. "You seem to really, what's the word, light up being here? Like charms and illusions, only real." She wanted to hide. That had been incredibly clumsy and likely also rude.

To make it worse, he almost glowed. "I do. Though that's something we should talk about, actually. If you don't mind? There's a thing I haven't mentioned, and it's relevant to both our current work and, well, me."

"That seems like a serious sort of thing to leave out?" Annice was fairly sure now that he wouldn't be offended, but she didn't know what else to say.

Griffin half-smiled. Then he was looking at the fireplace - above it, at those prints, as if he were gathering up words like he'd gathered up the tea things. Purposefully, with efficiency, but with his great attention to detail. "You know how the Lords - and some Ladies - hold the land magic, yes? And how the heads of school do for the Five Schools?"

It was an odd place to begin a conversation, but she nodded. "The basics of it, aye."

"Trellech works a little differently. So does London, but London is its own place." Griffin took a breath, let it out, and she realised suddenly he was actually nervous. She was fairly sure she'd never seen him be nervous.

Annice set her mug down on the cart and twisted to face him. "Go on?"

"The land magic in Trellech is passed down from person to person. But it's always someone who works in the Courts. Who does the work I do, tending the magic of the Courts. Because that's the heart of Trellech, keeping things running fairly and smoothly, tending to the people and the needs that come up." His breath hitched. He glanced at her, then down at his hands, then back at her face. "Right now there are three potential Heirs, and I'm one of them. I've been one of them since before the War."

"Oh." Annice inhaled, then let it out sharply. "What does that actually mean, please?"