The Gates of Sleep (38 page)

She nodded; that was a reasonable request. “Why not
now?” she asked. “I came prepared to do just that.”

“Come along then,” he replied, waving his hand
vaguely toward the door.

“I have her in a ward that has other Sensitives in
it,” he told her, as she followed him. “We won’t have to hide
anything.” Now with a patient to treat, he was all business, which was a
great deal more comfortable a situation than when he was assessing her
personally. She was not altogether certain that she liked him—

But she didn’t have to like him to work with him.

“That should make things easier then,” she
replied, just as they reached Ellen’s ward, this one in an older part of
the house, wood-paneled and floored with parquetry-work, with only six of the
austere iron-framed beds in it. The poor thing looked paler than ever, but she
recognized Marina easily enough, and mustered up a smile for both of them.

The doctor looked around and addressed the other four women
currently in the ward. “Ladies, this young woman is another magician,”
he said softly, just loud enough to carry to all of the people in the room, but
not beyond. “She is going to help me try a new treatment for Ellen, so
don’t be surprised by anything you see.”

One looked fearful, but nodded. The other three looked
interested. Marina surveyed the situation.

“Shields first, I think,” she said, and with a
nod from the Doctor, she invoked them, spreading them out as she had been
taught from a center-point above Ellen’s bed.

“Hmm,” the doctor said, noncommittally, but
Marina thought he looked impressed. “Why shields?” he asked, so
exactly like Sebastian trying to trip her up that she felt her breath catch in
memory.

“Because, Doctor, not
every
Elemental is
friendly,” she replied
Nor are all other magicians,
she thought,
but did not say. “Now, if lead-poisoning works like the arsenic-poisoning
I treated some birds for, it will take more than one go to get the filth out of
you, Ellen,” she continued, deciding that she was not going to make
conversation over the girl’s head as if she wasn’t there. “I
don’t know, but I
think
that the poison is in your blood and the
rest of you as well, and when I flush it out of your blood, some of it comes
out of the flesh to replace it. So this will take several treatments.”

Ellen nodded. “That makes sense,” she ventured;
a quick glance upward at the doctor proved he was nodding.

“I think you’ve gotten things damaged; that’s
something
I
can’t do anything about. All I can do is try and
force the lead out. And the first thing I want you to do—is drink that
entire pitcher of water!” She pointed at the pitcher beside the bed, and
Ellen made a little gasp of dismay.

“But miss—won’t I—” a pale
ghost of a blush spread over the girl’s cheeks.

“Have to piss
horribly?”
she whispered
in Ellen’s ear, and the girl giggled at hearing the coarse words out of a
lady. “Of course you will, where do you think I’m going to make the
poison go? And I want it
out
of you, without causing any more harm.
So, water first, then let me go to work.”

Ellen drank as much of the water as she could hold without
getting sick; Marina groped for the nearest water-source and found one, a fine
little river running along the bottom of Briareley’s garden too strong
for the ice to close up. And with it, a single Undine, surprisingly awake and
active. A wordless exchange flashed between them, ending with the Undine’s
assent, and power, like cool water from an opened stopcock, flowed into her in
a green and luminescent flood.

Ah.
She drank it, feeling it course through her,
filling her with a drink she had missed more than she knew. With fingers
resting just over the girl’s navel, Marina closed her eyes, and went to
work.

It was largely a matter of cleansing the blood, which
looked to Marina like a polluted river with millions of tributaries. But it all
had to go where she lurked, eventually, and she was able to “grab”
the poison and send it where
she
wanted it to go, whether it wanted to
or not. It didn’t want to; it was stubborn stuff, and wanted to stay. But
she was not going to let it, and the green fires of water-magic were stronger
than poison.

About the time that Ellen stirred restlessly and
uncomfortably under her hand—needing to empty out all that poisoned “water,”
before she burst—Marina ran out of energy—the personal energy she
needed to control the Water Energy, not the Water Magic itself. Reluctantly,
she severed the connection with the little stream, and opened her eyes.

“I think that’s all I can manage for now,”
she said with a sigh.

“I know ‘tis all
I
can—”
Ellen got out, and Marina was only just able to get the shields down before the
girl was out of bed and staggering towards a door that probably led to a water
closet.

I hope it leads to one quickly
—poor thing!

“Poor Ellen!” Dr. Pike got out, around what
were clearly stifled chuckles.

“Poor Ellen, indeed,” Marina said dryly. She
didn’t elaborate, but she had noted a distinct lack of comprehension
among the male of the human species for the female’s smaller…
capacity. It had made for some interesting arguments between Margherita and
Sebastian, arguments in which the language got downright Elizabethan in
earthiness, and which had culminated in a second WC downstairs in Blackbird
Cottage.

“Allow me to say that was quite what I wished I could
do for her,” the Doctor added ruefully. “It was quite frustrating.
I could see the poison, but I couldn’t make it go away; it was too
diffuse, too widely spread through the body, and nothing like a wound or a
disease.”

“Well, we Water powers have to be good for something
I suppose,” she replied, feeling cautiously proud of herself. “How
long—?”

“Just about an hour and a half. I would like to
invite you to luncheon—” he began, but stopped when she shook her
head.

“I would very much like to accept, but even I know
that is behavior that is simply unacceptable in a single girl my age,”
she said regretfully. “And Madam would be certain to hear of it. Servants
cannot keep a secret like that one—for you know, if there is any
appearance of familiarity between us, it will be blown out of all proportion
and gossiped about interminably. So long as my only ostensible reason for being
here was to look in on Ellen, all’s well.”

He grimaced. “I suppose you are right—and if
you are to get to your own luncheon without enraging your cook by being late,
you should leave within the quarter-hour. How often are you at the vicarage?”

“Every Wednesday for chess, but—” she
hesitated. “I suspect that you and the vicar can contrive more occasions.
He knows that I play instruments; perhaps he could ‘arrange’
practices with the choir or a soloist? Or I could even teach a Bible class.”
She had to laugh at that. “Though I fear I know
far
more
Shakespeare than the Bible!”

“How often do you think you could contrive to get
away, that’s the real question, I think.” He folded back the
blankets on Ellen’s bed, and held out his hand to assist her to stand. “At
most, do you think you could manage Monday, Wednesday, and Friday?”

“Possibly. Let’s try for Friday, at first.
Madam always seems to be extra busy that day.” She was glad of his hand;
she was awfully tired. Though that would pass, it always did. He smiled at her,
quite as if he understood how tired she must be.

Well of course he does, ninny, he does all this
himself!
What a relief to have someone with whom she could discuss magic
openly.

“I suppose it isn’t going to hurt anything to
tell you that I’ll be able to let the vicar in on the real reason why I’ll
bring Ellen down on Friday,” he was saying, as he let go of her hand so
he could escort her to the front door. “He’ll tell you himself,
soon enough. He’s a Clairvoyant Sensitive, and a bit of an Air Magician.
Not much—and it mostly gives him that silver tongue for preaching, more
than anything else.” He chuckled at her startled glance. “Oh, you
wouldn’t know it, not just to look at him. His shields are as good as or
better than yours; they have to be.”

“But that couldn’t be better!” she
exclaimed. “Oh, thank goodness we aren’t going to have to concoct
some idiotic excuse like—like you and Ellen wanting me to teach you Bible
lessons!”

“And trying to come up with a reason why it had to be
done in private, in the vicarage—yes, indeed. Next time, though, the
vicar and I will save you a bit of work and we’ll do the shield-casting.”
If she hadn’t been so tired, she’d have resented the slightly
patronizing way he said that.

Bit of work, indeed! Oh, I suppose it’s only a
bit
of work for a
Master!

But she was too tired to sustain an emotion like resentment
for long, and anyway, she could be over-reacting to what was, after all, a
kindly gesture.

“Excellent,” was all she said, instead. “The
more of my personal energies I can conserve, the longer I can spend on Ellen.”

By this time, they had reached, not the front door, but the
kitchen. “This way to the stables is shorter,” he said, hesitating
on the threshold, as a red-cheeked woman bustled about a modern iron range set
into a shockingly huge fireplace (what age was this part of the house? Tudor?
It was big enough to roast the proverbial ox!) at the far end of the room, completely
oblivious to anything but the food she was preparing for luncheon. “If
you don’t mind—”

“After all my railing on the foolishness of Madam’s
society manners?” she retorted.

He actually laughed. “Well struck,” was all he
said, and escorted her across the expanse of spotless tile—the growling
of her stomach at a whiff of something wonderful and meaty fortunately being
swallowed up in the general clamor of pots, pans, and orders to the two
kitchen-maids. Then they were out in the cold, crisp air and the stable was
just in front of them.

It turned out to be a good thing that Dr. Pike had escorted
her when they reached the stall where she’d put Beau, she was feeling so
faint with hunger and weariness that her fingers would have fumbled the
bridle-buckles, and she would never have been able to lift the sidesaddle onto
the gelding’s back. But he managed both without being asked, and then,
without a word, put both hands around her waist and lifted her into place!

She gaped down at him, once she’d hooked her leg over
the horn and gotten her foot into the stirrup. He grinned back up at her. “I’m
stronger than I appear,” he said.

“I—should think so!” she managed.

His grin broadened. “I’m glad to have surprised
you
for a change,” he told her, with a suspiciously merry look
in his eyes. “Now, you’re near-perishing with hunger, so the sooner
you can get back to Oakhurst, the better. I’ll look forward to seeing you
at the vicarage; if not on Wednesday, then you’ll get an invitation from
the vicar for
something.
Fair enough?”

“Perfect,” she said, feeling that it was a
great deal more than excellent. If the man was maddening, at least he was
quickly learning not to assume too much about her! And she had the sense that
he could be excellent company, when he chose. She finished arranging her
skirts, and tapped Beau with her heel. “I’ll be looking forward to
it, Doctor!” she called, as he moved out at a fast walk, evidently as
ready for his own stable and manger full of hay as she was for her luncheon.

“So will I!” she heard with pleasure, as she
passed out of the yard and onto the drive. “That, I promise you!”

MARINA had thought that she could predict what Arachne was
likely to say or do, but Madam was still able to surprise her. “I have
ordered more riding habits for you,” Madam said over breakfast, the day
after she and Reggie returned on the afternoon train.

A telegraph to the house had warned of their coming
yesterday morning, and gave orders to send the coach to the station, giving the
entire household plenty of time to prepare for their return. Which was, sadly,
before
supper, so Marina had needed to go to the cook and ask her to prepare Madam’s
usual supper. And she appeared at that meal dressed, trussed up, coiffed, and
entirely up to Madam’s standards. But she had eaten supper alone; Madam
had gone straight to her room and did not emerge that evening.

She was summoned to a formal breakfast, though, and steeled
herself for rebuke as she entered the dining room. Madam, however, was in a
curious mood. She had a sated, yet unsatisfied air about her, The moment that
Madam opened her mouth to speak, Marina had cringed, expecting a rebuke.

Instead—just a comment. A gift, in fact! Marina wasn’t
certain whether to thank Arachne or not, though.

She decided to opt for muted appreciation.

“Thank you, Madam,” she murmured.

Arachne nodded, and made a vague, waving motion with on
hand. She spoke very little after that initial statement; Reggie not at all, until
finally Marina herself decided to break the silence.

“I hope that you put things to rights in Exeter,
Madam?” she said, tentatively. “I am sure that you and my cousin
are able to cope with any difficulties.”

Reggie smirked. Madam, however, turned her head and gave
her a measuring look. “I believe that we have set things in order”
she said, “And I trust you have kept yourself in good order as well.”

“In absence of tasks, Madam, I went riding, for it is
marvelous good exercise, and healthy,” she replied demurely. “And I
read. Poetry, for the most part.”

“Browning?” Reggie asked, between forkfuls of
egg and grilled sausages. “Keats?”

“Donne,” she replied demurely.

“Mary Anne informed me of your rides,” Madam
said. “And I fear that you will soon look shabby in the same habit day
after day. This is why I have ordered more, and I believe we will try some
different cuts. Perhaps Mrs. Langtry can become famous and admired for wearing
the same dress over and over again, but I believe no one else could.”