Bella looked up. “I haven’t seen her all day, Mum ...”
I froze as the realization crashed into my head. I’d left Alana frozen ... and she was still frozen. It was the only explanation of why she hadn’t made it to dinner. Alana admired Great Aunt Stregheria, even though she feared the old crone too. And besides, she knew better than to be late. Alana had always taken the social niceties more seriously than either Bella or me.
Dad eyed me, suspiciously. He practically had a sixth sense for when one of us had done something Not Allowed.
“Caitlyn?”
I wanted to lie. But I knew better. “I ... I reflected her spell onto her and left her frozen in the cupboard, near my workroom,” I said. “She must still be trapped.”
My father gave me a look that promised trouble later, then rang the bell for the maid. When Lucy appeared, he told her where to find Alana and escort her to the dining room as quickly as possible. I groaned inwardly, kicking myself for forgetting. Alana wouldn’t have time to change, let alone do anything else. She’d have to come to the table in her afternoon dress. My parents might not object - much - to us casting spells on each other, but they’d be annoyed if we made them look bad in front of outsiders. And Great Aunt Stregheria would rub it in as much as possible.
We sat in uncomfortable silence until Alana arrived, her face a mask that concealed pure rage. I would have to watch my back for the next few days. Alana would slam a hex into me as soon as she got a chance. And while I could protect myself - now - to some extent, she knew I wasn’t invulnerable. She was certainly smart enough to think of a way to get around my protections.
“Be seated,” Dad said. His dark eyes swept the table. “Let us give thanks to our ancestors for our lineage.”
I cupped my hands over the table and muttered the prayer, under my breath. I’d been told that my ancestors looked down on us from the Realm of the Dead, but I didn’t really believe it. My ancestors had probably turned their backs on me a long time ago. And I wasn’t sure my father believed it either, although he was careful to keep the family shrine in good repair. But Great Aunt Stregheria would have called him out for dishonoring our ancestors, if he’d missed the prayer.
My father rang the bell, again. “Let us eat.”
I did my best to ignore the looming presence of Great Aunt Stregheria - and the nasty looks Alana sent me from time to time - as we ate our way through a five-course meal. Henry had outdone himself, as always. I would have enjoyed the carrot soup and roast lamb if I hadn’t been uneasily aware that the real business would be concluded over dessert. Great Aunt Stregheria had to have a reason to visit, after all. Something had to have changed, recently, to make her visit us - and make my parents let her in the house. And I could only think of one thing that had changed.
“The trade dispute with Salonika has been resolved, in our favor,” Great Aunt Stregheria said. She spent much of her time in Tintagel, the capital of the Kingdom of Tintagel. I couldn’t help wondering why King Rufus hadn’t banished her to some distant estate years ago. “You should be seeing more trading ships over the next few years.”
“That is good,” my father said. “And the ... disagreement ... with Valona?”
“It remains unresolved,” Great Aunt Stregheria informed him. “Valona is unwilling to make border concessions until we resolve the issue of access to what remains of the Eternal City.”
Alana leaned forward. “I thought they could just sail around to the inner sea and travel directly to the Eternal City.”
Great Aunt Stregheria sneered at her. “Everyone knows that the waters around the Eternal City are infested with monsters,” she said, in the tone one would use to address a very stupid child. “Sailing ships cannot reach the city with any guarantee of return.”
Alana looked crushed. I was torn between feeling sorry for her and an odd guilty pleasure in her humiliation. She’d treated me poorly for years. I’d spent more time than I cared to think about as a frog, or a toad, or something inanimate, purely because Alana had wanted to practice her hexes. And yet, she didn’t deserve to be verbally shredded by a woman old enough to be her grandmother. Great Aunt Stregheria didn’t look remotely ashamed. I was very glad she’d never had children.
“We are currently haggling over access rights through the Blyton Pass,” Great Aunt Stregheria continued, ignoring my mother’s sharp look with practiced ease. “But His Majesty is reluctant to allow complete access unless we have the right to inspect caravans leaving the cursed lands.”
“One would consider it pointless,” Alana muttered. She shot me a sharp look. “There’s only one secret to be found, isn’t there?”
“Correct,” Great Aunt Stregheria said. She turned to look at me. “And now that secret is out.”
I tried to look back evenly, although she was sizing me up like a piece of meat on the market stall. There was only one secret from the Eternal City that everyone wanted, the secret of how to make Objects of Power. Objects of Power had been what turned a relatively small city in a poorly-populated region into the master of much of the known world, but the secret of how they’d been made had been lost when the city fell. And I’d cracked that secret weeks ago.
And word is spreading, I thought. Dad had taken me from the school immediately after my duel with Isabella, but the rumors had already started. By now, they would be halfway around the world. No wonder Great Aunt Stregheria came to visit.
Great Aunt Stregheria turned her attention back to my father. “It has become common for an aristocratic child to be fostered in the home of a distant relative,” she said. “Such practices are meant to teach the child social graces and introduce the young one to society without the distracting presence of a pair of doting parents. Many of my friends are playing host to children from across the kingdom and even outside it. The youngsters are gaining much from being fostered.”
From being in the capital, I finished. And meeting people who will grow up to be the next generation of rulers and generals and everything else a society needs to work.
I understood how it worked, even though I’d never liked it. I’d grown up in Shallot, where there were hundreds of aristocratic children; I knew everyone who was powerful or likely to become so, when their parents died. And yet, my lack of magic ensured that they had never really been my peers. I had been an outcast. But someone who grew up on a distant country estate might be the only aristocratic child for miles around. Socializing with children far below their lofty birth just was not done. Sending them to be fostered was the only logical solution.