Lady of weeds, p.35
Lady of Weeds,
p.35
“How long have I been asleep? I only meant to have a little rest because of the Midsummer Night Festival.”
Luck slid her a narrow-eyed look. “My time scales are relative, but even I don’t call three hundred years a little rest.”
Poly sat down numbly on a block of marble. She had felt that the castle was chilled with age and decay, but her mind had refused to believe that she could have been asleep for quite so long. “What about the people? Lady Cimone, Melisande and Giselle?”
Luck, frowning at the hedge, said: “Who are Melisande and Giselle?”
“The—my ladies-in-waiting.”
“Oh. They’re dead,” said Luck. “There was a massive battle a few years after you went under the enchantment: no one knows what happened, but the battlefield went up in enchanted amber. It’s still frozen, by the way. Someone knew their stuff. The country’s run by a parliament now; I suppose they thought we were less likely to embalm several thousand people if there was enough red tape to keep us tied by the heels. The Old Parrasians and Royalists cause a few annoyances, but the red tape keeps them in line as well.”
Strangely enough, the idea that Civet was no longer a monarchy evoked only a feeling of slightly vindictive pleasure in Poly. The princess would have been appalled. She said: “Good. It was about time.”
Luck’s green eyes flicked to her and away again. “Maybe. Every four years there’s an election to decide which party will represent the country, but since both parties have a complete council of wizards the balance of power hasn’t really changed.”
“At least you can vote them out,” Poly said. The thing with royal families and magic bloodlines was that once one king or queen was dead, you could be sure that there would be another, just as powerful, in his or her place.
“Yes, but they’re all the same,” said Luck. The way his lips moved out of synchronisation with his words was beginning to give Poly a headache. “Confound the hedge, where’s this glitch!”
“I told you,” Poly said, inured to repeating herself. No one at the castle had listened to her either. “There isn’t one anymore. It used to be there, but I think it was only one way.”
“Huh. They did a different casting for the inside. Now what?”
“Can’t you just Shift us out like you did in the castle?”
“No. Shifting through magic this thick is impossible. I’ll do a Journey spell once we get away from the hedge.” He eyed the hedge thoughtfully. “It should have disintegrated when the castle did. It’s got something to do with you, Poly; you make magic behave oddly.”
“I don’t do it on purpose,” sighed Poly, wondering what else she was destined to take the blame for. She was sure that she had never been able to influence magic before she was bespelled: it would have made life a lot easier if she had been able to do so. “Anyway—” she added, but Luck was no longer listening. He was surrounded by a swirling and thoughtful mass of golden magic, his eyes tinted slightly with the same gold.
Moments later he startled Poly by giving a joyful yell. “I’ve got it! Come along, Poly.”
Poly found herself swept off her feet, quite literally. “Put me down!” she demanded. Her hair seemed to have other ideas, however: it was curling around Luck’s shoulders, cocooning them together in a blanket of hair and magic.
“Very nice,” said Luck approvingly, oblivious to her blush. “No, leave my legs free, Poly; I need to walk.”
“Tell my hair!” Poly snapped, her cheeks uncomfortably hot. She thought she could still feel the pressure of Luck’s lips on her own, and she didn’t like being cocooned to him. “I’m not doing anything!”
“Legs,” Luck said, peering down at the hair lashing his legs together. Much to Poly’s relief, the tendrils loosened reluctantly. “Huh. Very unusual. Off we go.”
Poly gave a suppressed squeak as Luck dashed at the hedge, clutching his coat lapels. Then they were ploughing through huge, thorned branches and green-black foliage. She could feel the magic of the hedge prodding at her magicked hair, sensing the Poly-ness to it, and it struck her that the hedge had been tuned to her particularly, and no one else. As she realized that, she began to feel the hedge probing deeper, sensing the difference that was Luck. As if in response, her hair tightened.
“Luck—”
“I know. Put your arms around my neck.”
Poly muttered, but did as she was told, wriggling her arms to twine through hair and around his neck. As she did so, Luck caught a breath to match his breathing with hers, and Poly felt the scrutiny of the hedge lessen slightly.
At first she thought they had managed to confuse it, but then she saw it experimentally reaching for Luck’s uncovered legs and gasped: “Run!”
“Too late,” said Luck’s voice matter-of-factly in her ear, and Poly braced herself for the onslaught of magic. But Luck was still striding forward, exuding surges of magic that were more powerful than anything she had ever seen. A light headed feeling of relief made Poly’s head spin: Luck meant it was too late for the hedge.
The next minute they were breaking out into the dimming sunshine of late afternoon. Luck put Poly down some distance away from the hedge, breathing easily despite the huge waves of magic that were still rolling off him. Her hair didn’t take kindly to the idea of separation, curling tendrils around his neck just as he freed one wrist and sliding insidiously around his waist just as he managed to free his neck.
“Poly,” he said at last, plaintively.
“I’m trying,” said Poly, harassed and pink faced, and trying not to notice Luck’s other arm around her waist. In desperation, she gave her hair the same sort of mental slap she had given Luck’s magic when it became nosy, and it released him with sulky slowness.
Poly sat down wearily, feeling as though she couldn’t keep her eyes open another second, and said: “That was harrowing.”
Luck looked stung and slightly hurt, but Poly was too tired feel herself able to frame a sensible explanation and she didn’t know why he should take it so personally, after all. So she simply curled up in a cocoon of hair, her books tucked in close to her chest, and fell asleep.
* * *
Get Spindle here!
Also by W.R. Gingell
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Twelve Days of Faery
Fire in the Blood
The First Chill of Autumn
Shards of a Broken Sword: The Complete Trilogy
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W R Gingell, Lady of Weeds
