Fallen Magic

I quite enjoy Astronomy, to my surprise. It’s relaxing to watch the stars and to know that they’ve always been there and always will be, no matter what happens down here. I quite like the feeling of knowing that my problems are utterly insignificant to them, and that they will pass as all things do.

I’m abruptly jolted back to reality by Edward disappearing down the ladder the moment the class ends. I could just go to bed and forget all about it. Maybe I should.

I’m not going to.

A minute or two later, I knock on the door of the private study room we wrote the statement together in.

Edward takes a few seconds to open it, and holds it for me without saying a word. I step inside and he shuts the door behind me. Then he paces across the room to stand behind the desk in its centre. I take a few steps towards him, then stop, waiting.

“I’m going to donate the money to a charity for abuse victims,” says Edward abruptly.

“Oh?” is all I can find to say to that. Because I don’t care about the money, really.

“It seems fitting that it should be used for the purpose it was sent for.”

It does, I admit to myself. If only that had been his first idea for what to do with it. “I suppose so.”

“I don’t understand how normal people do things.”

It’s just as abrupt as how he began this conversation, and I’m glad about it: the surprise means I don’t say any of the first few things that come to mind. They’re along the lines of Really? I hadn’t noticed. I can’t work out what I should say instead, so I settle for silence.

“My dad is a big believer in money as a tool to earn loyalty.”

I have to force myself not to say anything, and even so I’m relatively sure the burst of anger that gives is visible. I’m here to listen to him, I remind myself.

“He’ll pay tradesmen nearly twice the usual rate for their services, and so when he asks for something they don’t normally offer, or needs something kept secret, they’ll do it.”

“Bribery,” I say grimly.

“Legally, no. Bribery would be if he offered them money to do those things, but that’s not what he does.”

“There’s a difference between the letter and the spirit of a law.”

“Maybe. It’s not like anyone’s getting hurt by it, though: the tradespeople get more money, and my dad gets his work done and his secrets kept.”

I didn’t come here to listen to Edward try and justify the twisted Blackthorn version of ethics. Why did I come here?

“Anyway. That’s what I tried to do to you, earlier.”

Of course he did. It wasn’t charity, it was trying to buy my loyalty and get me to keep his secrets. Bribing me.

That’s definitely worse than charity.

I turn around and march back towards the door.

“Wait,” he says. “Let me – “

“I’ve heard enough,” I reply grimly as I reach the door and take hold of its knob. My first twist does nothing; it goes anticlockwise.

“Please.”

I stop. That tone, the desperation in it. I can’t just walk away from it. Stars help me.

“That was a mistake, Tallulah. I don’t want to earn your loyalty through money. I don’t want you to be my servant or my secretary. I want you to be my friend.”

I let go of the doorknob and stare blankly at the wood in front of me.

“And I don’t know how under starlit skies to make that happen.”

Yeah. That sounds about right. He doesn’t. I guess it makes sense that someone with Lord Blackthorn as a role model wouldn’t understand how to have normal, healthy friendships. And I know the effect that not having those friendships can have on someone all too well, how awfully lonely it can be –

A surge of empathy and understanding hits me like a flash flood. I know how he feels, I relate to it far harder than I’d like. Always being the odd one out, set apart from those around us so we could never truly be like them, be close to them.

Two outcasts, alone.

Suddenly I realise I want this as much as he does. I like him. Even if he doesn’t understand how normal people work, even if he’s used to privilege and paranoia, underneath all that he’s trying to be… well. Someone I could be friends with. Someone I want to be friends with.

Stars help me, I want to be friends with Edward Blackthorn.

I turn around. “No more bribery,” I say. “And no more of the sort of stuff that gets my name on your dad’s watchlist.”

The look of disbelieving hope on his face is almost painful to see. “You mean…”

“Yes,” I say. “I want to… try to be friends.”

Edward nods. “There’s going to be things I can’t tell you,” he says. “Family secrets. State secrets. The truth about why…”

Why I Fell, I assume he means.

“We’ve only known each other two days,” I reply. “And I don’t want to do anything that would…” bring your loyalties into conflict, I’m tempted to say, but that’s setting entirely the wrong tone for this: friendship is not supposed to be a carefully negotiated alliance. “…make things awkward with your dad,” I finish instead.

“Thank you.”

“But. I do want to know what I’m getting myself into with this. So tell me, what exactly does it mean to be a person of interest to your father?”

Not, as it turns out, anything like as much as I thought. Lord Blackthorn will be finding out what’s known about me and my family to make sure that I don’t have any ties to foreign powers or other hostile agents (Edward’s words, not mine; I don’t bother asking for clarification) or vulnerabilities easily exploitable by such, and that I don’t have an agenda in wanting to be friends with him.

In the spirit of this new friendship, I refrain from commenting on that.

And then he decides that it’s a good idea to draw up a pact.

“You don’t do that. That’s not how friendship works. That’s not how normal people work.” Pacts are for alliances between noble families, not for people like me.

“Haven’t we already established that I’m not normal?”

Okay, that’s a good point. “I don’t want to be locked into anything I – “

“That’s why we’re going to work out the terms together, and not put anything there that we’re not both happy with.”

It works better than I expected, I have to admit. It doesn’t feel like a contract between nobles, it feels like an agreement between the two of us to do the best we can to be good friends to each other.

We promise to keep each other’s secrets, no matter what. To respect each other’s privacy, and not try to find out what the other won’t tell. To tell each other when we’re making mistakes or doing the wrong kind of not-normal things. To talk to each other when there are problems, because even with the similarities I’ve just realised we have there are still far more differences.

And then we talk for hours, planning the places we’re going to visit when exploring the City in two days and the things we’re going to do together, until I realise suddenly it’s gone midnight. I never usually stay up that late.

“See you tomorrow, then?” Edward suggests, smiling.

“See you tomorrow,” I agree.

We’re allowed to leave the Academy and go wherever we like on weekends, but I stay inside its grounds that Saturday. I spend the entire morning studying until I’m almost caught up on the lessons I’ve missed, and Edward has to insist I don’t work myself to death. We practice the General Animation Spell together, racing our quills in circles around the study room (we’re the only ones there; most people have better things to do with their weekend). Edward wins, naturally.

“Have you been to the library yet?” he asks just after lunch.

“I – sort of. I didn’t like the idea of – well, hyperspace.”

“It is rather strange,” Edward agrees. “But it’s safe enough as long as you don’t stay too long.”

“Even after Greyford?”

“That only happened because it involved stabilising new hyperspace. Existing stabilised hyperspace isn’t going to cause that. I don’t really know much about it, though. Rosie – my cousin – is researching hyperspace, she’ll talk your ears off about it if you give her half a chance. And my dad’s an expert because it’s his job to be.”

“Don’t take this personally, but I don’t really want to discuss hyperspace safety with your dad.”

Edward laughs. “Anyway, do you want to go to the library? It has quite a good history section – mostly magical history, but there’s a few old volumes that have been there long enough they wouldn’t survive outside hyperspace – “

I’ve heard all I need: hyperspace or not, I’m going to that library.

Rosie is on duty again. Great. I was hoping it would be someone who didn’t know what I did last time round. Hopefully I can at least avoid making conversation with –

“Hi, Edward! You finally got round to visiting, then?”

Yeah, didn’t think I’d get away with it.

“Give me a break, Rosie, I’ve been kind of busy the last few days. How’s the research coming on?”

“Still collecting data, but I’m hoping within a week or two there’ll be enough I can start some proper analysis. And you’re… Tallulah, right?”

“Right,” I agree.

“You two already know each other? How am I supposed to do introductions now? Rosie, my friend Tallulah. Tallulah, my cousin Rosie.”

I blink. “You’re Edward’s cousin? Sorry. That came out wrong. I didn’t mean – “

“It’s fine,” says Rosie, smiling. “I’m not exactly what people expect from a Blackthorn.”

“You’d think they’d have worked out after six centuries that our family doesn’t like to conform to expectations, wouldn’t you?”

“People never learn to expect the unexpected. Anyway, I’m guessing you didn’t show up just to socialise?”

“I wanted to show Tallulah the library.”

“Right you are. Two tickets to hyperspace coming right up.”

It’s actually not too bad, once I learn the trick of not looking down or focusing on what’s beneath my feet. And the books make everything worth it. There’s an actual first edition of the Account of the Second Civil War – there are only half a dozen copies in existence, and I never dreamed I’d be able to touch one – why didn’t I bring gloves? I shouldn’t touch it with my bare hands –

And then there’s an entire section on magical history, which I’ve barely studied at all – I find the first volume of a history of magicians’ power both magical and political which I can take out of hyperspace, and then there’s an old tome on the Blackthorn family –

That shouldn’t startle me, but it does. “People I know” and “people who have history books written about their families” have always been two very distinct categories, and to find them overlapping is disorienting.

I slide it back onto the shelf. It doesn’t feel quite right to study and learn about the Blackthorns any more. But next to it there’s a discussion of how the Temple’s doctrine on magic has evolved over the centuries, and…

Someone is saying my name. I blink a few times and pull my mind out of a detailed explanation of how and why the Royal Magicians were first created.

“Tallulah,” says Edward in a tone that suggests he’s been trying to get my attention for a while.

“Yes,” I reply, trying and failing not to sound annoyed at the interruption.

“We’ve been here nearly an hour. We need to go.”

“Oh. Sorry. I just need to…” I glance around and realise that I’m surrounded by half a shelf’s worth of books sitting on the nothingness – don’t think about that. “…put most of these away, I’m borrowing…” There was a pile of the books I want to take out at some point, I’m sure.

Edward smiles. “Do you want help?”

“Thanks.”