The Threads of Magic by Alison Croggon (best ereader for pdf and epub .txt) đź“•
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- Author: Alison Croggon
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He spat out the final word with all the force of his rage. It echoed in the darkness, each repetition a little louder than the last, becoming so loud that Pip covered his ears, and then it died slowly into silence.
“I’m not.” There was a sob in Clovis’s voice, and for a moment he sounded like an ordinary seven-year-old boy.
Pip took a deep breath. “Prove it.”
AS SHE LEFT THE UNDERCROFT, AMINA SENT A scrawl to Oni to let her know she was on her way. Then, as an afterthought, she sent another forbidding her to make any attempt to rescue El. She knew her daughter well: of course that would be the first thing Oni would think of.
Normally Oni would have responded at once. When she didn’t answer, a cold dread began to spread in the pit of Amina’s stomach. Oni’s silence could mean that she was already in the midst of an attempt to rescue El and didn’t want to lie to her mother. Or it could mean that she hadn’t received the message.
Oni might have been taken by the Rupture. She might be dead. Plurabella shouldn’t have left those children alone with that monstrous Heart.
Missus Orphint’s house was only a short distance from the entrance to the Undercroft. There were no flambeaux in this part of town, and the streets were plunged into shadow. Amina briefly weighed the risks of her magic being sensed by a Specter, and decided haste was the priority. She cast a small candle charm to light her way and hurried to Missus Orphint’s house, her fears crowding in her throat.
By the time she arrived at Missus Orphint’s front door, Amina was in a flat panic. She almost dropped the key as she tried to open the door, and then she turned it the wrong way, cursing as she jammed it into the lock, but at last the tumblers clicked over. She slammed the door behind her and stepped into the narrow hallway, where a lamp burned on a small table, waiting for Missus Orphint to come home.
Amina heard Oni’s voice at the other end of the house. Relief rushed through her whole body, leaving her legs shaking. In its wake came a surge of anger. She had been almost sure that Oni was dead. How dare she not answer her message? How could she be so thoughtless? She would have known how worried her mother would be . . .
Amina gave herself a few moments. This wasn’t like her. In an emergency, she was the person who always kept her head. People turned to her because she was never flustered: she was the one who knew how to stop the bleeding, what to say to the newly bereaved, how to comfort the dying. The shock that everybody else felt in disaster happened later in private, when she had time to deal with it. What was wrong with her?
I guess it’s been a hard night, she thought.
She breathed in deeply through her nose and out again, emptying her mind of its jittering. And then she snapped out the candle spell, marched down the hallway, and threw open the kitchen door.
She halted, blinking in surprise. The kitchen was more crowded than she’d expected, and everyone seemed to be in the middle of an argument. Oni was standing at the far wall, her eyes sparkling with indignation. Pip was next to her, his mouth set in a stubborn line. At the table El leaned forward on a chair, looking more pale than usual. Opposite El sat two men: one, clad in the black uniform of his trade, clearly an assassin. Oni had used a spell to bind the strangers; Amina could see the magical shackles from where she stood.
They were all too intent on their argument to notice Amina’s entrance. She cleared her throat. “What, by the grace of the good earth, is an assassin doing here?”
Oni’s face lit up. “Ma!”
“You had better tell me what’s been going on here, young lady.” Amina moved ominously into the kitchen. “How could an assassin get past Plurabella’s wards? Did you let him in?”
“Oh, no!” said El. “He came back from the other place, when Pip came to rescue me. He ended up rescuing everybody else by mistake, including Heironomo. And then Oni put a spell on him, and now he’s really cross.”
Amina had a sudden absurd desire to laugh. She frowned to cover it and glanced across at the assassin. “You mean that this is the man who tried to capture Oni and was swallowed by the Rupture?”
“I keep telling them, he’s quite nice really,” said El.
Pip was clearly trying to keep his temper. “El, I know you like to think the best of people, but even you know that assassins . . .”
“I could see inside people, back in that place. I saw inside Heironomo.”
“He tried to arrest me,” said Oni.
The assassin looked nervously at Amina and licked his lips. He was very young. Amina reflected that assassins often didn’t last very long in the cardinal’s service. He was always looking for new blood.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was just . . . doing my job . . .”
“You’re sorry that you can’t go to the cardinal and betray us all to the Specters,” said Oni, tossing her head. “I know your sort.”
Amina looked at the other man. “And who is this?”
“Harpin Shtum, at your service, ma’am,” said Harpin unexpectedly. “A pleasure to see you, Missus Bemare, even in such peculiar circumstances.”
Amina regarded him narrowly. She thought he did look a little familiar, but she couldn’t place his face. But then, she met so many people . . .
She took a deep breath. “I think
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