We went to the third floor, and the first room we went to was the master suite. There was no reaction from either the bowl or Cavin. There was no reaction in Tarce’s suite or even Daris’s, which I had thought would be another likely location. There was nothing in Stacin’s nursery. Except for Stacin himself, of course, and he was adorable as usual.
It was in Taro and my suite that we finally got a look at what the bowl and the water were supposed to be doing. When Cavin started humming, the water rippled. Cavin frowned as he continued to hum.
“What does this mean?” Fiona asked him. “Is this it?”
Cavin stopped humming. “I don’t think so, my lady. There is some darkness here, but it isn’t strong enough to be causing your difficulties.”
Darkness? I didn’t like the sound of that. Was he sensing Taro’s emotional discord? That was no one’s business.
And I didn’t appreciate the contemplative glances we were getting. What did they think darkness meant? The possibilities—violence, verbal abuse—were distasteful to contemplate.
Fiona touched my arm and gave me a look of sympathy. I responded with the blankest expression I could muster.
Cavin resumed humming for a while, but he eventually shook his head. “This isn’t it.”
We moved on to the bedrooms that were empty. Again, there was nothing.
We finally reached the room that had been Taro’s when he was growing up. I felt Taro grow tense as soon as he stepped over the threshold. It seemed to me that Tarce wasn’t too happy to be in there, either. Did he object to it in the same manner as did the servants?
Cavin held up his bowl. He hummed. The water exploded out of the bowl and splashed to the floor, to be joined by the bowl itself. Cavin had jerked his hands away as though his fingers had been burned. I looked at his face and saw that he had gone very pale.
Then he jolted out of the room. He didn’t go far, just over the threshold, but it was abrupt enough to let us know he’d found what he considered the origin of the problem.
So there was a source of bad luck in the house. The room where Taro had grown up. And everyone, including Bailey, looked at him. Except me. I wasn’t going to help humiliate him.
Fiona cleared her throat. “What needs to be done?”
Cavin was taking deep breaths, his color slowly returning. “Cleansing,” he said. “Fire and water.”
“What it needs is an axe,” Taro muttered, not quite under his breath.
“You must perform the cleansing yourself, my lady,” Cavin said with an apologetic air. “As the titleholder seeking relief, the cleansing will take best if performed by Your Ladyship’s hand.”
“Wonderful,” said Tarce. “So the rest of us can go, aye?”
“Witnesses make all acts stronger, more binding,” said Cavin.
“This will ultimately benefit us all, Tarce,” Fiona told him.
Tarce rolled his eyes. “How much can any of us accomplish if this fellow can’t even stay in the room?”
Cavin coughed in embarrassment and walked back through the door. “My apologies, my lady. The reaction was very strong.”
“Think nothing of it. What is to be done?”
“The water Your Ladyship drew needs to be brought from the ballroom.”
“Bailey?”
“Right away, my lady.” Bailey left the room.
Cavin went to the nearest window with the clear intention of opening it. He was unable to. “Are these painted shut?” He looked closer. “I believe these are nailed shut, my lady. From the outside.”
Dane checked the other windows. “They all are.”
The windows were sealed? For how long? Surely not from the time that Taro had lived there. Surely he hadn’t been stuck in this room for years without even the possibility of fresh air?
I really wanted to go find Taro’s mother and beat her.
Two footmen were given the unenviable task of crawling around outside the house to pry out the nails. Fiona asked us all to remain in the room while the two men worked. I wanted to get Taro out of there. I thought it was heartless of Fiona to insist Taro remain, but Taro was being stoic and I knew he wouldn’t appreciate being singled out by me to leave.
Once all the nails had been pulled out, Cavin opened all the windows. Then he reached into his bag and pulled out a smaller leather bag.
“What is that?” Fiona asked.
“Fire powder.”
“That is a dangerous substance to be using indoors.”
“I won’t be using much of it, my lady.” He deposited little piles of the black, powdery substance in each corner of the room. Bailey returned with the jug of water, which Cavin took from him and gave to Fiona. “I will light the powder. You must douse the flame when I tell you, my lady.” Fiona nodded her understanding.
Cavin lit the nearest pile of powder, which flashed bright enough to hurt the eyes. “Douse the flame,” he told Fiona. She did so. They repeated the process with each pile.
It raised a horrible stench in the room.
“The windows should be left open all day and through the night,” Cavin said. “I will test the room again tomorrow morning.”
“So that’s it?” Tarce asked. “Not the most impressive display of casting I’ve ever seen, I must say.”
“Forgive me, my lord, but it isn’t a matter of casting spells.”
“Then what is it?”
“Merely my greater connection to the air around us.”
Oh, lords, not another form of discipline that made no sense and accomplished unpredictable results.
Taro was the first out of the room, his strides long and purposeful. I didn’t follow him. He would come to me when he wanted to be soothed. If I followed him, I’d only end up aggravating him, and not in a healthy, productive way.
I ended up not seeing him for the rest of the day. I worried, of course. I asked around. No one seemed to know where he’d gone. I had no idea where to look. All I could do was wait and hope he wasn’t getting himself in any trouble.
He did return in time, crawling into bed beside me. I pretended to be asleep, fairly sure he wouldn’t want me asking him a bunch of questions.
We all met in the same room the next morning. Cavin held up his bowl and hummed. The water exploded out of the bowl. I hadn’t been expecting that.
“What does that mean?” Fiona demanded.
“The cleansing didn’t work.” Cavin picked up his bowl in shaking hands.
“What is the next step?”
It seemed to me that the next step should be having Taro perform the cleansing, because that was what this was about, wasn’t it? Taro had been kept in the room for years, scared and lonely and miserable. That was the source of whatever was allegedly going wrong with the room and its influence on the house. I could understand the significance of the titleholder performing the ritual—there was a belief in a special bond between a piece of land and its titleholder—but if Taro’s history in the room was part of the problem, wouldn’t the ritual be more powerful if he were the one performing it?
“This is beyond my ability, my lady,” said Cavin.
“You’re saying we just have to leave things the way they are? That’s unacceptable.”
“The only other solution I can think of is the complete destruction of the room.”
“What do you mean? It’s part of the house. I can’t just carve it out.”
Cavin shrugged. “I can think of no other solution.”
Fiona looked up at the ceiling and thought and apparently came up with no solution of her own. “Thank you, Cavin. Bailey will see to your compensation.”
“Thank you, my lady.” Cavin bowed. “I am truly sorry.” Cavin and Bailey left.
“At least we know there is a cause for all that discontent and it’s not all in our heads,” said Dane. “We can investigate ways to deal with it.”
“If a spell won’t fix it, what will?”
“He said it wasn’t a spell that he was doing,” I pointed out. “So maybe a spell can fix it, if we find the right kind.”
I felt odd making the suggestion. Yes, I believed spells had power. Yes, I’d been casting them myself. But I still wasn’t comfortable talking about it all so casually. I could just imagine what my classmates and professors would think to hear me now. Or the other Pairs in High Scape. They’d all think I was crazy.
“Do you have any ideas?” Fiona asked.
“Oh, no, none at all. I’m just suggesting a place to start looking. Though not a convenient place, with these Guards hanging around.”
Fiona sighed rather explosively.
We all left the room and went off in different directions. I went back to the suite I shared with Taro, opened the overmantel and started looking through the books, hoping to find a spell that dealt with draining negative emotions out of a room. Because clearly there was something meaningful going on in that room. And if Fiona was right, the accidents were going to keep happening until whatever was wrong with that room was fixed.
Chapter Twenty-four
I couldn’t have been more surprised when I received a summons from the Dowager Duchess, informing me I was to attend her at her home, immediately and without Taro. Of course I was tempted to respond with a rude refusal, or to give no response at all, but I was curious. The Dowager usually worked pretty hard to pretend I didn’t exist. To invite me alone into her private den struck me as uncharacteristic, and I wanted to know what goal she thought I could or would assist her with.
I didn’t bother changing my clothes or dressing my hair for her. I just left the Dowager’s note on the table beside our bed and left the suite, heading straight out. A fanciful part of me thought I should make sure someone knew where I was going, in case I was never heard from again.
I crossed the large gardens and the small brush of trees to the dowager house. I was let in upon knocking and was shown into a small sitting room to wait. I supposed the Dowager hadn’t expected me to show up immediately after all. I had time to examine the decor, which was very, very spare. The furniture was made of a very dark wood, the wood itself lacking in any extra ornamentation, and the cushioning was minimal and of a single solid color. In the room there were two chairs and a settee and four end tables, and that was it. There were no knickknacks anywhere, and nothing hung from the walls. While I appreciated the lack of clutter, it came off feeling cold. I couldn’t imagine anyone being comfortable there.
Maybe that was the point.
In time, I was shown to another room, a salon that was no more comfortably furnished. I sat through another short wait, and then the Dowager entered. I stood but I didn’t curtsy. Strictly speaking, I didn’t have to curtsy to anyone but royalty, but I still tended to do it if I cared about a person and didn’t want to annoy them for no good reason. The Dowager didn’t fall into that category of person.
“Shield Mallorough, I hope you are well,” she said as she sat in one of the chairs. I noticed her back remained straight, and she didn’t rest against the back of the chair. Taro used to sit like that a lot.
Her greeting carried a warmth I had never before heard from her. I found it unnerving. “I am in excellent health, thank you for inquiring.”
“And how are you enjoying living in Flown Raven?”
“It is a beautiful area, and Fiona and her family have been very hospitable.”
“Still, you are an intelligent woman, used to city life. There cannot be a great deal about to engage you.”
That was a strange thing to say. “I must disagree.”
“Really?”
“Yes. There are many diversions about.”
A maid came in with a tea tray, and once she left, the Dowager fixed me a cup of tea without asking me if I wanted any. “Is that why you’re spending so much time with Academic Reid?”
Not this again. “I actually spend little time with Reid.”
“That is not what I’ve heard.”
“Rumors are often inaccurate.”
“My dear girl”—I nearly swallowed my tongue in shock—“I would be the last to berate you for seeking the academic’s company. My Shintaro has many admirable qualities, but a fine mind is not among them.”
I glared at her. “I disagree.”
She chuckled, and that was another shock for me. “You may be sure, my dear, I have never doubted your loyalty to my son. It is only what he deserves, of course, but one rarely gets what one deserves in life.”
“That is true.” Because she deserved to be rolled down a hill in a barrel full of spikes or something equally painful.
“That is why I wished to talk to you, to discuss what Shintaro deserves. And you as well, my dear. You are a good person who clearly takes her responsibilities seriously.”
Really, who was this woman? “I see.”
“Have you ever heard of Matt LeBarr or Winel Taroque?”
“I’m afraid I haven’t.”
“They are a Source and Shield, respectively. A Pair. And their personalities were so disparate, leading to such violence, that eventually the Triple S council agreed they did more harm than good and let them separate.”
I searched my memory for those names, of even a rumor of such circumstances, and I came up with nothing. “That’s impossible. The Triple S never allows Pairs to be wasted that way.” Well, beyond sending Pairs to cold sites, though the theory was that they would be returned to proper duty once they were properly punished for their crimes.
“The Pair was useless as it was. There was a concern they would actually kill each other in the violence they perpetrated against each other. It was feared such an incident would poison the respect people felt toward the Triple S. LeBarr and Taroque were sent back to their respective academies, to teach or some similar task.”
“I haven’t heard anything of this.”
“Secrecy was a condition of separation.”
“Then how have you learned of it?”
The Dowager laughed, and I couldn’t help it. I just stared at her. Had Taro ever in his whole life witnessed her like this? She seemed almost human. “I have been alive a great many more years than you, Dunleavy, and have been so fortunate as to be in such circumstances that I know people in all sorts of positions. And if I don’t know them, a friend does. All kinds of information comes my way.”