Month 11, Day 30, 4:00 PM
Marie
Hours later, Marie had already fixed the accountings to reflect the actual payments and credits. It had, after all, been only a handful of clients.
Then she had practiced the next set of lessons in the Primer, and then she had checked her answers. Reading a chapter on drawing, she realized that her drawing skills would need to improve if she was going to be a drawing spell arrays and things, so she practiced the book’s suggested exercise of making straight and even loops with a pen for a time, until her hand cramped. The loops weren’t very even. In fact, they weren’t even very straight.
Finally, out of absolute boredom, she had grabbed the dusters stored in the main office and began dusting books. The books were, in fact, very dusty.She’d never paid much attention to the titles, but now it occurred to her that she couldn’t even read most of the spines; Poe shelved all his books with the pages out. Hundreds of books on the overpacked shelves, and not a title in sight.
But as she pulled them out, dusted them, and put them back, she realized many of the books were relatively new, with clean white pages and unbroken spines.
She was beginning to see how Frank Poe … Master Poe? … had a lot more money than she thought.
He just did not spend it on a variety of clothes, or a nice place to live, or on furniture, or cleaning services, or food. In fact, as far as she could tell, he just drank tea, ate boiled eggs, rice, oatmeal, and the occasional boiled potato. His “kitchen” was little more than a single stove, a pot, a kettle, small cold box, and a shelf. He even had water delivered, instead of connecting to the cistern on the roof. Today at his noon “dinner-time” had been the first time she’d actually seen him eat away from the Agency.
She was, despite the excitement of being an apprentice, a little terrified for Poe. He looked like a ghost after the big divination, very pale and shaking. Blood had poured from his nose. He’d stopped it with a handkerchief relatively quickly, but he was wincing at the slightest motion or sound. What ever he’d done, it had hurt him. Badly.
Magic wasn’t safe.
She didn’t like seeing him hurt. He wasn’t so much older than her that he could have been her father, but he was certainly at least twenty. And, she felt a little attached to him. His bright clothing and his strange koi-decorated coat made him seem like a fool in a play. His big round smoky glasses were odd-looking, and his uncovered eyes moreso.
But Poe was not a fool. He always seemed to know what she was thinking. That was a little disconcerting, but he never seemed to take advantage of her fears, and in fact he often did the opposite, reassuring her more often than not.
Midway through dusting her third bookcase, she heard the front door open and close. The Agency really needed a bell on that door.
When she came around the partition, she met a youngish sharp-featured young man with a predatory look. Marie suddenly felt uneasy; without Poe back from his nap, she didn’t have much protection here. Just the folding knife she had in hidden pocket along the seam of her dress.
The Stags tended toward respectful behavior, but the Morrows could be dangerous. It wasn’t clear which gang this man might belong to, even though he wasn’t wearing a green antlers or a red bandanna.
“How can I help you?”
“Is Mr. Poe in?”
Marie smiled at him. It was always good to give the client a positive impression. Marie thought for a moment, and decided there was no reason to tell this fellow the whole truth.
“Mr. Poe is busy at the moment.” Poe hadn’t come down from his nap, but that counted as busy, right? “Would you like to make an appointment?”
“Oh.” The skinny fellow kept twitching, fidgeting, and looking around the office. Despite the entire lack of any furniture, he still seemed to make a go at looking for a chair. There were no chairs. Poe didn’t have enough clients to need them.
“Yeah, okay. Look. I’m with the Pack. I’m just bringing a message. Gera is calling in a favor. She needs to see Frank Poe right away. Can you tell him?”
“Yes, of course.”
The young man looked relieved, thanked Marie, and prowled out into the evening. Marie sighed. It was near time the office closed. Poe, however, was absent.
Marie had another premonition that he was more unwell than he let on. She closed the door and locked it with her key, then climbed the stairs to Poe’s apartment.
She opened his door, and it stopped half way open, because it collided with another couch. She would have moved the cussed thing out of the way, except there seemed to be no place to move it to.
“Who has all the couches? Master Poe, apparently.” Marie muttered.
“Marie?” Poe croaked from his sleeping couch.
“I’m here Master Poe.”
“Good. Can you bring me some more tea?”
“Of course.”
“I’d get get up, you understand, but my stomach is not in a good place. Nor, I fear, is my balance.”
“Right.”
Poe looked terrible. Perhaps even worse than right after they had left the copper’s station. His mismatched eyes were bloodshot and sunken. He looked pale. Or, paler than usual. He appeared to be in no condition to leave.
Marie made the tea and brought it to him.
When she got to him, he was, at least, sitting upright. He thanked her for it and sipped it carefully.
“You don’t have to walk me home, Master Poe.”
“Just call me Poe, Marie.”
“Ok. I should get going, before it gets too dark.”
“Oh no, I’m not letting you cross the city alone with a nascent gang war.”
“Nascent?”
“It means “just beginning.’” Poe rubbed his temples. “I must be more tired than I thought if I’m using words like that.”
“You have to be awake to use normal words?”
“Once you become educated, transparent conveyance of ideas becomes a struggle.”
“Are you making fun of me?”
“Sadly, no.”
“I need to get home.”
“I’ll come with you. Let me finish this tea.” Poe swallowed the hot liquid with a sudden burst of energy, tossed away his coverlet, and stood.
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His hair was wild with sleep, but it looked artfully tossled, instead of a wreck. He was still in his now-rumpled suit and koi-decorated coat. Marie checked: the fish didn’t twitch.
Mr. Poe looked more like a down on his luck fop than a powerful sorcerer that scryed the Raven Queen and stopped some sort of magic disaster. While Marie thought of that, she reminded herself of the new client.
“Oh, I almost forgot. A man came round and left a message saying that Gera wanted to see you immediately. He sounded like it was important.”
“Gera.” Poe said heavily. “There was nothing I could do. But, perhaps …” Poe brightened slightly. “This is connected. We’ve got to go to visit the Pack.”
“The Pack? Aren’t they … dangerous?”
“Oh my yes. Very. But only to those that do not bargain fairly with them. Come my apprentice! You’re going to learn something useful.” Poe set the teacup down on a chesterfield, and set off through the maze of couches toward his apartment door. Poe confidently strode between the couches, and in one instance, over a divan.
Marie followed, but a little less gracefully. She found hurdling the divan a little beyond her short stature, and had to scoot around it.
“But, I need to get back to my mom …?”
“We’ll do that after. You might be late, but this will be an important lesson, and we shouldn’t miss a chance for bit of practical education.” And they headed downstairs.
Poe, again, purchased a ride across town; this time to the manor of Lord Lynwood. Marie felt extravagant. On the way over, Poe practically fell asleep, leaving Marie with a unclear idea of why this Gera, who Marie didn’t know, would be able to convince Poe to cross town in such haste.
As they stepped out of the carriage, they met a guard at the iron-barred gate of Linwood Manor. Poe asked for Gera, and they were promptly led inside to a drawing room with a massive fireplace. It was lit, and shadows danced around them. While they waited for Gera, Poe seemed inclined to talk after his long silence in the carriage.
“Lord Lynwood is the Alpha of the Pack. He’s the leader, but he may not greet us; I’m hardly important enough. Gera is a prognos, and she’s been a good friend. Do not offend her. In fact, do not offend anyone here.” Poe whispered to her.
Marie was barely listening. The furnishings and the art on the walls looked expensive. There were paintings of scenes in nature; not landscapes. The paintings had scenes of wolves hunting, great bears in deep woods fighting each other, and the sublime images of massive cats stalking from the branches of trees. The impression she had was that whoever lived here, their art preferences were not at all passive.
Poe noticed her distraction.
“Pay attention, you are about to meet one of the best diviners in the city. Don’t bow; they don’t like it, but you should duck your head a bit.” Poe demonstrated. “Also, Gera is blind, but she sees with divination. Don’t stare. Be respectful.”
“When am I not respectful?”
“Hush.”
The door opened and Poe stood, gesturing to Marie to do likewise. A woman prognos that entered at the arm of a huge dark complexioned man. Marie was unnerved by the scar the crossed her eye, and it’s milky white blindness. With only the light from the fireplace, eerie shadows played about her face. The pair entered and sat across from Poe and Marie. Poe and Marie returned to their seats as well.
“Alpha Lynwood, and Lady Gera. I came as soon as I heard. What is the matter? Is it Miles?”
“Who is this?” The blind prognos asked, gesturing toward Marie.
“Marie is my apprentice.”
“She can be trusted?”
“Yes” Frank replied, nodding. Marie felt a surge of warmth that he thought so.
“Mr. Poe, things have become worse with Miles, and we are desperate. The visions now intrude so deeply that he cannot sleep at all. The healers say that he’s dying. We know you suffered from something similar, and they treated you at the Retreat, but you didn’t have a solution for us when we discussed it.” Gera said.
“I am sure, as he grows, his mind will adjust … unlike my situation, and my curse, it is his power, and a part of him. He will be able to control it.”
“He’s still a child, and he cannot. The last time you discussed this with us, your letter said that you would consult an animal oracle - a raven; did you get some answer?”
“No.” Frank sighed. “The Raven gave me no hint, or if she did, I did not have the wit … huh.” Frank leaned back in his chair, face going slack for a moment. Marie had seen that look before; he had a realization. His eyes wandered the room, sightlessly contemplating.
“What is it Frank?” Gera asked.
“Gera, I’ve explained to you my Gestalt of investigation?”
“You believe that we are all connected; by observing the connections, you would be swept up into those connections and solve the problems that are brought to you. You felt that Miles was naturally touching the chords of this pattern.” Gera replied. “And, that as an investigator of the pattern, you did not think you could touch it or dampen it around him without harming him.”
“That’s right. But this morning, I’ve taken on several commissions to contact the Raven Queen. So many at once. It can’t be coincidence. Then, the Oracle approved of these cases.”
“Do you mean to contact Siobhan Naught, who appeared a few nights ago in that fight with the Morrows?” Lord Lynwood asked.
“Just so.”
“Strange rumors follow her.” Gera noted. “After she stole something form the University, she disappeared. But, during the fight, she appeared on top of a tower in a flash of lightning. When she fought the coppers, she called a great shadow and ravens to her. Prognos have been called to divine for her. With her blood they can not find her.”
“I believe she’s something more, but more importantly Gera, I know she has the element of dreams in her nature. The coppers called me in earlier today, and I was able to divine a little about her. No one I know will be able to find her through divination. Do you understand?”
“She is not human?” Lord Lynwood spoke for the first time, in a deep rumble.
“Possibly not. Her blood seemed human enough. But she … in her nature is growth and rebirth, change, and dreams. She’s …”
“Shapeshifitng?” Lynwood seemed particularly interested. “She may be predisposed to ally with us.”
“I do not know Alpha Lynwood.” Poe turned to Gera. “But, let me go straight to why things changed. I must give tribute to the Oracle when I consult her. Occasionally she brings me something in exchange. These items: it’s symbolic. I rarely give her anything of great value; although, when I tried to consult with her about Miles, I did. She didn’t take that tribute.” Poe seemed a bit manic as he explained. “But. This morning I consulted her regarding the Raven Queen. And, … she left me an extremely valuable exchange.” Poe sucked in a deep breath. “It’s completely out of character, unless it’s part of the pattern. I think it is. You contacted me after I found out the Raven Queen’s connection to dreams, and after she gave me this gift. I do not think it’s a mistake that I received this when your need was so great, and you had already asked for my help.”
“What did she give you?” Gera asked.
“A black star sapphire.” Poe drew a pure white square of cloth from his pocket; he carefully opened the fabric to show dark stone, nearly a third the size of his palm. Marie saw it glimmer in the dim light; black, but somehow not dark. In it’s depths, a six pointed star. “Stones like this, they are used as spell components: space bending and passage through shadow. But, they also make good conduits - especially for spells related to illusions, dreams, and the mind. I … can’t touch this one.”
“What does that mean?” Lynwood rumbled.
“This stone, it could be connected to the fate of this Raven Queen. If it is … let me leave it with you. My apology that I haven’t been able to do more.”
“How do we contact the Raven Queen?”
“I do not know. Perhaps Lord Stag will know.”
“We will have to approach the master of the Verdant Stag carefully.” Lord Linwood rumbled.
“Frank, you have come at the right time. Maybe … maybe there is hope.” Gera whispered.
“Learn what you can; consult your lore-masters and grimoires. I do not yet know where the Raven Queen fits in the pattern. You know that I don’t believe in coincidence; but, do not let my belief sway you. I have made many mistakes before I understood what was going on. I … am not entirely sure that I can be your ally in this, although I am your friend always. You have done much to help me understand my own predicament. But, powerful people have asked me to find a way to contact her, if not find her. If you ask it of me … I will cancel the August Agency’s contracts.”
“No, your honor is important to you. We will find our own way from here.” Lord Lynwood said.
Poe rewrapped the gem in the cloth and carefully dropped it into Lord Lynwood’s palm.
…
As they were in the carriage, and after Marie had written out a summary of the conversation and put it into the hands of a servant, Marie was puzzled by the variety of magic she’d seen. Nothing was as straightforward as she’d thought. Consulting a raven was possible? How did that work?
“Poe, is magic always going to be as confusing as this? I saw a sorcerer cast a spell with nothing but a conduit and a beast core, a group of diviners use a bunch of junk to cast a spell, a blind woman who can see, the sapphire, and the Raven Queen can turn into shadow or summon ravens and attack coppers. … Is this the way magic really works?”
“Practical Sorcery is studied, ordered. It’s science. Tested. Analyzed. It started during the blood empire, even as terrible and horrible as it was to live in those times. We are beginning to understand how it all works. Long ago, however, ‘science’ was a word that just meant an expression of art. Now, we pretend we know better, and give ‘science’ a meaning that is mechanical; rational. But, it’s not entirely true; performing magic is still art. There are many kinds of artists, even in this rational age.”
“Am I going to learn all this magic?”
“I’ll be teaching you the principles of modern sorcery; but make no mistake, some magic is nothing at all like the science we talk about.”