Fallen Magic

Ben watched the door swing shut behind his last client of the day with relief, not that he’d admit it to anyone. He loved his job, he really did, but sometimes it was a bit… much. Especially when he was having to explain that no, irritating as neighbours’ waste stinking out your house was, there was nothing illegal about it and hence nothing that Roberts and Bryant could do to help.

Well, anyway, it was done for another day. He could go home and rest now. Not that home was likely to be particularly restful, with Louise in the mood she was. He regretted concealing Tallulah’s hearing from her now that she knew. If she ever found out he’d lied to her, even by omission… stars, he was lucky his daughter was still willing to cover for him despite how badly he’d failed her.

He'd encouraged her to visit the Academy, stars help him, thinking that his wife and daughter would be reminded they loved each other when they met face-to-face. He should have known better. She’d barely stopped cursing the name of Blackthorn since coming back.

Which in turn caused him another headache, because she couldn’t find out that Lord Blackthorn was responsible for the sudden improvement in the fortunes of Roberts and Bryant. Simon had been more optimistic about his offer than Ben, seeing it as the answer to their problems even if it came with a hidden price, and they’d accepted after only brief negotiations. He’d delivered everything he promised and had yet to ask for a thing in return.

Things were going well, better than they had in ages, but Ben knew it couldn’t last. There were just too many ways this house of cards he’d built could come tumbling down and ruin everything.

He sighed and gathered his papers into a neat pile to be filed away. He’d just have to keep going, one day at a time, until the inevitable disaster hit. As he was about to stand, there was a knock on the door.

“Yes?” he called out.

The door opened, revealing Tara on the other side. She was another of the recent changes, and one he was pleased with. Hiring her on a trial basis had been a spontaneous decision born more of sheer relief that his daughter was safe and gratitude to her for bringing the news than anything else, but her performance had been nothing short of excellent. She still seemed nervous and unsure of her place here, though, which was probably why she was bringing this message when it wasn’t in her job description.

“Ben. I know you’re finishing for the day, sorry to interrupt. But there’s a woman here to see you about your daughter.”

“Don’t tell me,” Ben said, barely holding back another sigh. “Small, black magician’s robes, smile that makes you wonder if she wants to eat you.”

Tara’s lips quirked in amusement. “You’ve met Electra, then. Shall I…”

“Show her in,” he replied. “Thank you, Tara.”

She disappeared without another word, efficient as usual.

Stars. Again? So soon? He knew Tallulah was dealing with a lot right now, between the tension between her and Louise and the newspaper headlines and whatever was really happening with the Blackthorns, but… he’d failed her again, hadn’t he? She needed him, and here he was spending his days arguing about strangers’ waste.

No. That wasn’t true. His job was still important. Most things he dealt with were far from so pointless. He was righting injustice, one case at a time, but he was still failing Tallulah as he did so.

Tara returned, accompanied by Electra, before he had any further time to let his mind linger on those dark thoughts or dread the news the teacher brought.

“What is it?” he asked, voice nearly choking on the words. “Has she…”

“Had another active episode? No. In fact, I am impressed by the control and strength of character she is learning, though I wish the circumstances made it less necessary.”

“I’ll… leave you to it,” said Tara, stepping backwards awkwardly. “Give Tallulah my best wishes, would you?” She finished her retreat without waiting for a response from either of them.

Electra stepped inside and shut the door behind her.

“I’m sorry. Where are my manners. Do sit down.”

She stalked over to the chair and sat. “Are you aware,” she asked, “of the contents of the letter your wife sent me this morning?”

Ben shook his head mutely. He hadn’t known Louise had even written to Electra. And after instantly loathing her when they’d briefly met on the day Tallulah left, as well. What had his wife done? He shouldn’t have snapped at her the day she got back from the Academy, shouldn’t have told her he didn’t want to listen to her rants about the Blackthorns.

She hadn’t subjected him to any more of them, restraining herself to snide comments, but neither had they had a proper conversation about the Tallulah situation since.

“I have it here,” she said, “if you would like to read it.”

If Louise hadn’t told him, it was for good reason. This was her private correspondence; did he have the right to read it? Legally he did, if its recipient showed it to him, but morally? It would be just another small addition to the fast-growing rift between the two of them.

“Yes,” he said anyway. Because it was his concern; Electra clearly thought so, and besides if it was serious and about Tallulah then he couldn’t refuse.

She smiled – those smiles of hers would never stop sending shivers up his spine – and handed him a single sheet of paper.

The handwriting was unmistakably Louise’s, but the words were… no. No, he’d known she felt this way, he’d just chosen to ignore it. He could ignore it no longer. It was a list of demands that the Academy restrict Tallulah’s behaviour and give Louise information about it, most prominently featuring the insistence that she cease to associate with Edward Blackthorn at once.

Half of them the Academy had no legal authority to enforce, and he couldn’t imagine them being particularly keen to implement the other half.

And above that, the warning that if they were not enforced in full, Louise would be left with no choice but to withdraw Tallulah from the Academy. He felt a stab of anger at that: what right did she have to make a threat like that without consulting him? They were both Tallulah’s parents; they had equal say in decisions about her future. That had been the agreement from the beginning.

“No,” Ben said shakily. “No, she didn’t tell me any of this. I… have you… does she…”

“I have spoken to Tallulah about this, yes. We have agreed that she will make no attempt to abide by these instructions and I will make no attempt to enforce them.”

That was that, then. Battle lines were being drawn, and his wife and daughter were on opposite sides of them. Louise was clearly in the wrong here: her worry for Tallulah was more than understandable, but resorting to measures like this couldn’t be justified. He would have to persuade her to back down, find a compromise of some sort –

“I see,” Ben said. “So I suppose my wife will attempt to have Tallulah withdrawn from the Academy, then.” He had to be practical, objective about this. It was just another case, just another dispute. The most important thing was to be informed of all the facts.

“As soon as she is made aware of Tallulah’s decision, yes.”

“And Tallulah does not want this,” he guessed. If she was prepared to accept it then there was no discussion to be had. And he’d read her letters, from before everything went so wrong for a second time. She had been happy there; maybe she still was. Stars help him, he didn’t know.

“She does not. Which means that the relevant question is: what do you want?”

That was the question. He wasn’t an expert in family law, but he knew enough to realise that if he and Louise disagreed on what to do then his side would be taken in the resulting dispute. It was his signature on the Academy’s paperwork that had enrolled her in the first place, and the courts tended to take a minor’s own wishes into account when ruling in ambiguous cases.

“What’s best for Tallulah,” he said. “Only… only I don’t know what that is any more.”

“I doubt you can ever truly know what’s best for someone,” Electra replied, staring off into the distance. “But I would like to tell you what I think is best for Tallulah, if you’ll allow me.”

Ben didn’t think she particularly cared whether he wanted to hear her or not. But she’d seen Tallulah at her most vulnerable, helped her make it through that. There was a good argument that she had a better understanding of his daughter than he did, stars help him. “Go ahead.”

“Edward Blackthorn,” said Electra.

Ben blinked. “Say that again. I’m not quite sure I heard you.”

“Edward Blackthorn,” she repeated. “I’ve seen the two of them together. I know some of what they’ve survived and accomplished together. You’ve met him, have you not? You saw how much he cares about her.”

“Yes,” Ben admitted, because it was undeniably true. “But – “

“If you’re about to say he’s a Blackthorn,” Electra interrupted, “I am aware of that fact. A person’s family does not define them, even one as… unusual as his.”

Well. Ben would be a hypocrite for disapproving of his daughter’s association with Edward Blackthorn given the arrangement he had with the boy’s father. But that wasn’t the same: he was under no illusions that Lord Blackthorn saw him as anything other than another name on his list of contacts, another tool to toss at problems.

There could be no friendship between the two of them.

Edward wasn’t his father, though. They had much in common. That same calculating certainty that they would get want they wanted through sheer force of will. That same icy, confident intensity. It came with power, both magical and political. But Edward had apologised to him, told him everything, and Ben was quite sure Lord Blackthorn would never have done that.

“I know that,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “But – “

But what? What reason was there to disapprove of this friendship? It could hardly be Edward’s being Malaina, because so was Tallulah. And he didn’t believe Edward was using her. Having someone who cared about her that much, unconditionally, could only be a good thing for his daughter.

“But it could put her in danger, being his friend. It already has, at least twice.”

Electra nodded. “Yes. I will do everything I can to protect her from that danger, but I can’t promise she’ll be safe. She understands that herself, though, and will not leave him regardless.”

Ben still felt like he was missing something. “So he’s a good friend to her. And the danger isn’t his fault. That still doesn’t make him what’s best for her.”

“It’s not just friendship,” Electra said.

“If you’re going to tell me my daughter is madly in love with Edward Blackthorn – “

Electra shook her head sharply. “No. Or not in the sense you’re thinking. At least, I think it’s unlikely. But… tell me. What do you believe about souls?”

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything,” said Ben. He didn’t particularly want to be sidetracked into metaphysical speculation. He hadn’t given the concept of the soul much thought before, though he knew Temple doctrine about it.

“I believe,” Electra said, “that the soul is the core of a person. Their deepest secrets. Hopes, dreams, fears, weaknesses. What makes you who you are. To show that to someone is an act of great trust, and a friendship between people who know each other’s souls is something far deeper.”

Ben was sceptical, even as he knew what she was going to say next.

“Edward and Tallulah have seen each other’s souls and understood what they have seen. That is why they need each other.”