Fallen Magic

We don’t talk much more after that. I don’t know how to help with something like this. Stars, he’s seen me have so many episodes and held me and comforted me and all the while he’s been dealing with that without ever having anyone to help. Except his father, I suppose, but I can’t imagine Lord Blackthorn being the best at emotional support.

Edward goes to the kitchen for cinnamon bites and brings back a smiling Elspeth with him. She’s pleased to see that I’m so much recovered since last we met.

“I don’t know if I thanked you properly,” I reply. “I was distracted by pain – “

“It’s quite all right,” she says, offering me the plate of cinnamon bites. I take one with a smile and slip it into my mouth. Even knowing they’re enchanted now doesn’t make them any less tempting.

“Did you tell her about – “ Elspeth says to Edward, leaving a meaningful pause at the end of her sentence.

“I had to. There was an incident earlier today – nothing happened, but I thought it was going to and – “

“You know?” I ask, surprised. “I thought – “

“Of course I knew,” Elspeth replies. “I live with them both. I couldn’t help but notice things.”

Lord Blackthorn must trust her, then, really trust her. I wonder what she’s done to earn that trust. There must be quite the story there.

“You won’t – tell my dad I told her?”

She shakes her head. “I trust your judgement.”

Over his father’s, she’s implying, at least in this matter. Stars. “Thank you,” I repeat. “Really.”

I get the sense that she may be a large part of the reason Edward isn’t even more like his father.

There isn’t a third seat, so I offer Elspeth mine and perch on the edge of the table. Though the seat is less comfortable, not staring across the table at Edward in a room like this is a relief. We munch our way through the cinnamon bites together in companionable silence.

“What,” I ask finally, “are we going to tell the others?”

“Nothing,” says Edward.

I shake my head. “They know you had a Malaina episode. They know you were terrified something was going to happen to Elsie. They know you fled the scene as soon as we were sure she was safe. And they’re going to have questions.”

Edward sighs. “This is why I shouldn’t have let you talk me into spending time with other people.”

“No,” I say immediately. “No. That’s not the answer.”

“I can’t tell them anything – “

Maybe he could. Maybe I would, in his place. But he doesn’t know any of the other three as well as I do, and I know it was difficult for him even telling me. Even just a partial, carefully edited version might be a step too far.

And besides he’s not even wrong to be paranoid.

“You talk to them,” he says “You know them. They trust you.”

Am I imagining it, or is there a note of bitterness in his voice? It wouldn’t altogether surprise me if there was. “What do you want me to say? They’re not stupid, any of them. They could probably guess as much as I did, unless we find another way that incident could have caused an episode.”

I feel bad about lying to them when they’ve done nothing to deserve it, but the alternative is worse.

“Describe this incident to me,” says Elspeth. “I might think of something.”

We outline the events at the fortune-teller’s stall between us, taking turns to narrate and filling in details the other has missed.

“Could it be connected to the idea of prophecy?” she suggests.

Edward grimaces. “It would be plausible, but that would imply… I don’t want the rumour spreading that I’ve had a traumatic encounter with prophecy. That would scare people even more than they’re already scared of me.”

He has a point: if he Fell because an oracle foretold his doom, it wouldn’t exactly encourage people to befriend him. “There wouldn’t be a rumour,” I say. “None of them are going to tell anyone – “

“You can’t just assume that. And what if the conversation is overheard? I need to teach you some basic wardwork, actually, as soon as possible.”

I grimace. In all this drama I’d nearly forgotten the tests starting tomorrow – at least it was an effective distraction, I suppose – but I remember now, and I don’t really want to juggle them with another extra-curricular project of Edward’s if I can help it.

Though it is probably important for me to learn how to cast privacy wards if I’m going to be the one telling the others something about Edward, even if that something is a lie.

“Not prophecy,” I say. “Then what?”

“Seeing your friends in danger,” Elspeth says. “From what little I know about Malaina, a trigger doesn’t have to be directly related to what caused your Fall. A new traumatic event you experience after Falling could also act as a trigger.”

The same way returning to the library after the active episode I had there was difficult for me, and I’m still a little afraid of hyperspace even now. But why – “The riot,” I say, understanding. “The part where I nearly died.”

It’s scary how I can say that with a wry smile now, as if nearly dying is normal.

“Coming that close to losing a friend must have been quite the traumatic experience,” Elspeth agrees thoughtfully. “And when you’re the paranoid sort anyway…”

“It’s easy to see threats to your friends that don’t exist,” Edward finishes. “Though… that implies Elsie is my friend. That I care about her.”

“I think the way you reacted earlier implies that on its own,” I say.

He closes his eyes and slumps forwards a little. “Stars, it does, doesn’t it?”

“Having friends is a normal thing,” I say, smiling a little despite the seriousness of the situation. “It’s not a realisation that should be upsetting.”

Edward smiles back. “It’s just… unexpected. But – yes – I do believe that would work. Thank you, Elspeth.”

“My pleasure,” she replies. “In exchange, might I have the last cinnamon bite?”

There’s been a single one left on the plate for a while now, and we’ve all been eyeing it longingly for a good couple of minutes.

“Depends,” Edward says. “How quickly can you have another plate here?”

Elspeth laughs. “I am not letting you have another plate – “

Edward’s hand darts out and hovers over the last cinnamon bite.

“Are you trying to blackmail me?” Elspeth asks.

I grab the plate and pull it across the table towards me and away from Edward. He could probably have stopped me, if he wanted, but he doesn’t. I consider taking the bite for myself for longer than I should before holding it out to Elspeth.

She takes it, giving Edward a triumphant smile.

“I’m surrounded by traitors,” he says with a long-suffering air. “Help.”

Edward and I make it out of Blackthorn Manor without encountering his father – unsurprising, since elections are in less than a fortnight. Lord Blackthorn’s seat in Parliament is a hereditary one, and he sits as an independent (“because no political party would want someone that unpopular as a member”), but the outcome of the election is still extremely relevant to any politician.

“People are discontented,” Edward says as we walk back to the Academy. No-one is paying us any attention, and we’re discussing politics only in the most general terms, so it’s probably safe to have this conversation in public.

I nod. “The protest, the riot…” Things have been fairly calm since then, but there’s still tension in the City. I noticed guards patrolling the Market earlier. Edward and I are fairly well insulated from most of it, shut away in the Academy, at least.

“There’s politicians taking advantage of that. Radicals. Trying to bring down the corrupt system and build something new. That appeals to a lot of people.”

I don’t know enough about politics, I realise. While I’ve picked up quite a bit of political theory in the course of learning history, I’ve paid little attention to the politics of the present. If I really want to change the world, that’s not something I can do any more.

“Corrupt system,” I repeat cautiously. “What exactly does that mean?”

Edward shrugs. “Last speech I read from that lot was about how too much of the country’s power is hereditary.”

A third of the seats in Parliament are inherited, not to mention every duchy, earldom and barony in the Kingdom and of course the throne itself. I’m not surprised people are against that concept: history has shown many times that being the child of a ruler doesn’t make you a good ruler yourself.

“That isn’t going to change easily,” I say. Because all those people who inherited power have an interest in keeping it and making sure their children inherit it after them.

“I know,” says Edward. “It would take a revolution. And a revolution won’t succeed.”

“Because of magic,” I say. That’s why there hasn’t been a truly successful revolution in the Kingdom’s entire history: magicians are a powerful strategic asset, and most of them – especially the best-trained ones – are loyal to the throne.

“Because of magic,” Edward agrees. “But it would be ugly. It’s been a hundred years since the Kingdom was at war. No-one is prepared for the City to become a battleground.”

I grimace. Even the thought of war in the City makes me feel faintly sick. Especially since as a magician and as a friend of Edward Blackthorn, I would inevitably be caught up in it. Fighting for the King and the way things are.

And I don’t know whether I’d be fighting on the right side.

“There won’t actually be a revolution, will there?” I ask.

“Who knows? Probably not. There’s talk of small concessions. Giving the radicals just enough to make them feel that they’re making progress.”

That isn’t public knowledge any more; Edward must have learnt that from his father. “What sort of concessions?” I ask as we step into the Central Ring. There’s a small group of protestors huddled together near the gates of the Round Palace, being watched closely by the High Royal Guard. I can’t make out from here what they’re protesting.

“That’s what no-one can agree on,” Edward says. “Strangely, most people seem to be in favour of measures that limit their rivals’ power while leaving their own untouched.”

I wish that surprised me.

It’s hard to keep up a conversation while making our way across the Central Ring – it’s more crowded than earlier now it’s mid-afternoon – so we don’t talk more until we’ve made it through the Academy gates and signed back in.

“My dad’s talk about all of this was mostly complaining, I think,” Edward continues once we’re safely back inside. “He’s quite the popular target to have his power limited by these concessions, and he’s having to spend a lot of time preventing that that he’d rather devote to actually important things.”

I can’t really find much sympathy for Lord Blackthorn, though I can understand the frustration.

“And I’ll be the one dealing with that before too long,” he adds.

“…what?”

“My dad’s planning to make me his proxy in Parliament in three or four years’ time. Says the experience will be good for me and he’ll be able to use his time more efficiently.”

“I’m guessing the idea doesn’t exactly fill you with joy?”

He laughs bitterly. “You could put it that way. But he’s right; I’ll have to learn to deal with politics myself before too long, anyway. Where are we going?”

We’ve climbed one flight of the main staircase without paying attention to our surroundings. “I want to find the others,” I say. “They’ll be worried about us. Do you know – “

“I’ll leave you to that,” Edward replies. “Do some more wardwork practice. See you later, then?”

I want to tell him not to run away from this, but after everything that’s happened today I think he’s earnt a break from trying to be a normal person. “Guess so.”

He flees upstairs without another word, leaving me to try and guess where Elsie, Elizabeth and Robin are. I’ll probably see them at dinner, or find Robin in our dormitory this evening, but it’s hard to know where they’ll be at this time. They might not have even got back to the Academy yet; I don’t know what they did after Edward and I abandoned them in the Market.

I’ll just check our usual haunts, I suppose, and if they’re not there we can talk at dinner.