Marie

Month 12, Day 15, 6:00 AM

Marie worried a little bit about Poe. Not because he appeared depressed. ‘It’s not that Poe seemed sad before,’ Marie thought, ‘but he’s weirdly happy.’

It disturbed her. He woke before she did in the mornings!

This meant, in the past two days, he’d taken her out to eat for three meals each day, they’d visited the park in the upper city, he’d begun to teach her how to draw a dozen new glyphs and he’d helped her memorize them. She’d felt better, so he’d allowed her to perform the spark shooting array and the raven imitating spell. Also, he supervised her practice till she felt tired.

He also gave her an overview of what he called “the basics”, although they seemed far from basic. He’d started explaining potion-making to Marie, and he demonstrated his particular spell array for making magically active kinninnck. Marie was surprised that a potion could be used as a component, although Poe asserted it was a more advanced technique.

He’d explained how sorcerers obtained beast cores, and shown her a spell array that collected kinetic energy, although he didn’t allow her to practice it. He also showed her ways to draw accurate spell arrays when she didn’t have tools available, particularly after her experience in the basement made her worry that magic would remain beyond her reach if she didn’t have a surface to work with.

He even showed her how to make portable spell arrays on paper and ink, glass and grease pencil, a marking knife and wood, and slate and soft chalk. He showed her four techniques to steady her hand to make perfect circles as well as mechanical and non-mechanical means to divide circles and mark polygons.

He taught her two different unicursal hexagrams, and third method made of two triangles, although he did not explain how their usage might differ in casting, or if they had any differing uses at all. Marie soaked it all up like a sponge. Drawing became one of her favorite activities. He just had her draw different shapes, without even a glyph in mind.

He also had several sessions that frustrated her to no end; he claimed that they were to teach her “how to think.” He’d started by asking her to read a chapter in the primer, then he would pose questions, and Marie would answer. After covering the book’s statements, he’d keep asking questions. Only now, he began refusing to explain if she was right, and he’d keep asking her questions until she exhausted every little bit of information she’d collected as well as any assumptions she’d made and most of the assumptions the author made as well. After she’d learned how little she knew about one subject, he’d just switch to the next one, including sending her to read another chapter.

Marie did not think of herself as violent, but she wanted to hit him very badly.

Still, this did not even begin to compare to the exercise routine. He’d started on gentle but bizarre calisthetics. She would “pull up” at a doorframe 40 times, or “pushing up” against a wall 50 times, or lie on the ground and lifting her knees 60 times. Each exercise was strangely tiring, and yet gentle. Poe called them progressive calisthenics, and he warned her that they would get harder. After, he would have her set her feet and swing a cane in several different stationary positions; there wasn’t much room in his office, but the ceiling was very tall, and they moved the desk.

Exercise hurt, which Marie did not expect. She’d grown up lifting laundry, washing floors, and generally pretty active work. But, perhaps her time behind a desk made her less fit.

She was barely out of bed and dressed when she heard his knock.

“Let’s start the day with the exercise!” He called.

Marie tried not to grown aloud. But in her head she wondered when Poe would go back to the way he was.

Marie met him at the door, and he had her follow him in his couch-filled room, where he had her lay on the floor. He had her start “knee lifts” - which was a misnomer, because it was intended to strengthen her abdominal muscles.

“Why am I doing this? What does physical exercise have to do with Sorcery?” Marie asked.

Poe continued watching her form, and explained.

“As much as it pains me to admit, the University is not there just to teach young crown family members and talented people for the benefit of society. Oh no. They are also preparing sorcerers for the magical defense of Gilbratha on behalf of the Crowns. Especially the commoners. The Defensive Magic course is always among those take by nobility. The Haze war is not so far in the past that the High Crown has forgotten it.”

Poe watched her for a few moments, while Marie did a few more lifts. She was using all her energy to concentrate on the exercise.

“Tap each heel one at a time. No need to rush. Back flat though. … You might never be called up to fight, but if you are, I’d prefer if you survived it, and that means being in good physical condition. The old model for instruction was theoretical, but that doesn’t actually help you in a fight — as you may have noticed, knocking down a sorcerer works as well as any spell. My teachers before University taught me how to physically fight. Likewise, the current Defensive Magic professor knows his business, and works his students hard to get them in good condition. We still need to figure out if anything can be done to protect your heart. Ideally, I’d have you run, but your heart defect likely prevents it.”

“Are you going to look at … the, uh, tattoo?” Marie had trouble referring to it. She still felt embarrassed. She hadn’t told Poe about it, and it felt worse than the sorts of ordinary thievery she’d done which Poe knew about. Knowing that she’d learn to pick pockets wasn’t nearly as embarrassing. Maybe, she felt this way because the tattooed spell array could get her killed.

“I may, but it’s not something I studied. The Stags are aware … but I’d rather go to them only as a last resort, even if healer Nidson knew his business. It’s an illegal spell array, which limits who we can consult. We might need to travel to Silva Erde, and I don’t have any connections there. … Don’t stop now. You need to do some more.”

Marie returned to the exercises while she thought about Poe’s concerns. ‘I knew that the spell array was dangerous and illegal.’ Marie thought. ‘Does that mean I won’t be able to attend University?’ This thought made her feel sick; she’d never thought she wanted to attend before, but now … now she knew different. She …

“You can stop now; you’re looking flushed. Take a few breaths.” Poe said, then he explained the next exercise he wanted her to do. Eventually, Poe ran her through several other physical exercises and then he announced that they would be visiting the Hands, Hearts, and Palms.

Marie packed up some clothing in a sack that she hoped the laundry at the massage parlor would clean for her, and put on her nicer dress and her cloak fastened with the her garnet-studded penannular cloak pin. She again wished The Boots were ready; the shoes would let in the damp. Poe met her at the door, with his pipe smoldering as they walked.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

They crossed over into Morrows territory into the busy streets, but Marie noticed many grim looks. No one seemed cheerful, even though the sun was bright and the sky mostly free of clouds. Marie also noticed Morrows enforcers were out, looking for trouble.

Still, Poe strolled along, apparently oblivious. They made their way to the Hands, Hearts, and Palms, without incident. Dinky greeted them at the door. With some prompting, he was reminded of Poe and Poe went off to discuss his contract.

Marie went to the back, and visited Mama. Mama was up later than normal; apparently Madame relied on her more in the mornings than she once did. They sat and talked, and Mama passed along the latest gossip.

“Morrows been worried about the Stags.” Mama said. “They looking sideways at anyone new in the territory.”

“Are the Stags making trouble?”

“No, not really. They seem to have quit their stalkin’ at least the last few days.”

Jemnie came into the laundry carrying an armful of sheets.

“Jemnie!” Marie exclaimed. “Are you ok after Poe caught you?” Jemnie dropped the sheets into the hot soaking tank.

“Caught me what?” Jemnie asked.

“You know … the other day at the market?”

“I don’t know what your talking about. I haven’t seen you for awhile. Are you doing fine? They say you’re working for a detective over in Stag territory?”

“You met him … I guess you don’t remember. He’s a sorcerer and I’m learning all kinds of interesting things from him.”

“Sorcerer, eh? He’s not … one of those dark sorts, is he?”

“No,” Marie denied, “he’s a good one.” ‘Or, at least I think he’s a good one.’ Marie thought.

“They took me off the street a bit; someone thinks I was spotted at the market show. But, I’ll be back to it soon. You want to come in again?” Jemnie asked. “The money’s been good, and Uncle says I’m the best he’s got right now. When we worked together you always were the best at, you know …”

“I’m doing real work now!”

“Yeah? You think your better than us now?”

“No? It’s just, I’ve got a chance to be better.”

“You ain’t no princess. You’d best remember that.”

“Who you been talking to boy?” Mama asked. “If my daughter wants to become a thamaturgie, thaumatig … wizard, what business is it of yours?”

“Kett says …”

“Kett ain’t no better than he ought to be.” Mama snapped. “He’s a decade too young to be yammering about what it takes to get on top of the heap.”

Marie grinned. Jemnie sulked. “Yeah … but …” He muttered.

“There’s providin’ a service, selling a product, maybe even lifting a bit here an there from them that can afford it. Men like Kett though, they think all it takes to be on top is some muscle. Well, ain’t no one bigger than Lord Morrow on this heap. An’ he’s smart, not just tough.”

“Kett says you gotta take what you want …”

“An’ I say don’t bring too much attention to yourself. Which one of us two has been in the Morrows longer?”

“You.” Jemnie reluctantly agreed.

“That’s right. Keep your head down. Find someone that can protect you like my girl done. Don’t pretend to be tougher than you are.”

“Yes m’am.” His words didn’t match his defiant expression.

Mama glared at the boy.

“You’ll see Jemnie.” Marie said. “Poe just ran off some Stags the other day. He’s powerful. And clever.”

“Alright.” Jemnie said. But he didn’t sound like he believed it.

Marie helped with the laundry for a bit. She usually didn’t help stir the cauldrons of steaming of clothes for cleaning, because it was too tiring, but when she took a turn at the paddle, she felt surprisingly tougher, although her arms felt like they turned to jelly. She really did need the exercise.

Sometime later, Mama headed for bed, and Marie wondered where Poe had gone. He did not come and get her from the laundry. She decided to check the office. When she arrived in the hallway, the door was closed, but there was an argument going on inside that was overwhelming the privacy ward. And it wasn’t just Poe.

“Listen, little man, you can get a kickin’ like the rest of them that defy Lord Morrow. I …”

Marie heard a popping noise followed by a wordless shout, so she stepped sharply aside from the doorway. A heartbeat later, a man smashed through the door headfirst, breaking the door jam, flipping over and falling on his back with shattered and splintered wood flung down the hall before him. The man had the bewildered look of someone who wasn’t sure how he ended up on the ground in pain. He began to fumble against the hallway’s wall to stand, but he didn’t get even halfway up before he grasped a wrist in pain, slid down into a sitting position, and leaned his back against the wall.

He was reaching for something in a pocket when Poe walked through the office door trailing smoke, holding a walnut-sized conduit and a beast core between the his fingers in one hand, and pipe in the other. The koi shimmered on his coat.

“I’ve come here in good faith.” Poe said. Poe’s expression had a flat and cold look. His voice had a rock-like steadiness. “But, I am a Sorcerer. A magician has no chance against me. You, especially. Touch that wand, and I guarantee your broken wrist and bruised ribs will be the worst of your troubles. Nod if you understand.”

The heavy man on the floor stopped moving and seemed to calm. He moved his hand away from his pocket, and nodded. Poe drew smoke from his pipe and blew a perfectly circular smoke ring that hung lazily in the air, keeping its shape and position with an eerie lasting stillness.

“I have no idea why you thought I would allow you to touch me, or by what right you have to demand my sources. The Mariner has offered to teach an apprentice-level sorcerer or witch of Lord Morrow’s choice the techniques of glamour that will suit your organization’s needs. However. Marie will not be doing glamours for the Morrows. I will not be doing glamours for the Morrows. Nod if you understand.”

The thug nodded. Marie recognized him as one of the two when Kett confronted her. Poe regarded him with absolute contempt in his expression.

“For this service, he expects to be paid. A lot.” Frank paused, and took another mouthful of smoke and blew it out in a stream like dragon fire. “Or, you can wait for me to locate an already qualified sorcerer willing to work with you. Nod if you understand.”

The man nodded.

Poe glanced back into the office to the pale-faced Madame.

“You have the written offer, yes?”

She nodded. Poe turned back to the thug on the ground.

“It’s a shame that you will forget this.” Poe said to him. “It’s so hard to send a message that people will remember. If I write it down, it looks like a threat. It’s not. I am merely trying to remind the obstinate of the consequences of crossing me. You people keep trying to intimidate me. This will not work. I have known real fear in my gut; you barely qualify as indigestion.” Poe’s voice faded to the quiet gritty sound of two smooth river stones rubbed together. “I have glimpsed the wheel of fate, worked alongside Grandmasters of magic, and cast more subtle and terrifying magics than you can possibly imagine.”

Frank contemplated his smoke ring for a moment, and then it faded away. He sighed. And dropped a potion bottle next to thug.

“Healing potion. Get someone to set your wrist and then take it. Let it not be said I am unwilling to treat the Morrows with some … courtesy.”

Frank looked to Marie, and smiled slightly. “You are here. Good! Are you ready to go?”

“Um, yes. I just need to get my clothes out of the drying array.” Marie felt whiplash from how Poe went from chilling cold toward the thug, to pleasantly warm toward her.

“Excellent!” Poe lead them away from the office and back to the laundry. “Marie, I hope that my little outburst doesn’t worry you. I apologize for losing my temper. It’s probably best if you do not mention it to Mama Stella.”

“Did you … curse him?”

“Oh no, nothing of that sort. I just broke his wrist with ‘gull snatching the catch’ and used ‘throwing bags into the hold’ to put him through the door. Size isn’t everything, and he wasn’t very well prepared. My pipe also has some little spell arrays in it that let me deal with his sort of threat.”

Marie began to wonder what the consequences might be. Even with the curse, would Poe remain forgettable? Regardless, Marie decided that she wasn’t likely to forget anytime soon.