But he wasn’t the only one listening.
There was a man who hadn’t talked or mingled with the other mourners, who stood by himself even now. Cain assumed this was Gladdis’s man, the one Septima had told him about. He took care not to seem interested in the man.
By the time the gravedigger returned with a cask of wine, the silent man had left. Cain hadn’t noticed him leaving, but that was fine.
He followed the man’s footprints in the snow as they led him out of the cemetery.
11ARIENNE
In this place, both the men and the women, and even the walls and the furniture it seemed, wore a thick coat of makeup. The brothel owner, Lucretia, was a heartlander beauty whose age was difficult to determine. She never said a word to Arienne, only led her to her room in silence. Cain had said Lucretia owed him something. She didn’t ask what that debt might be.
The room on the third floor was small but comfortable. The bed was plusher than the one she’d had in the dormitory, and was covered in a bedspread with an intricate design, of men and women entangled in passionate embrace. There were a table and chair by the window. The carvings on the table legs and the back of the chair rivaled the bedspread in their scintillating depictions. Lucretia brought up sheets and sleep clothes, and a simple meal. It was a rich stew of meat and potatoes.
Lucretia wordlessly showed her the escape route out the window. A sturdy ladder was already in place. Arienne briefly wonderedwhy the room should come with a way to escape it, but her interests quickly turned to the food.
Arienne carried the small tray to the bed before starting on the stew. She was feeling almost relaxed. The potatoes were hot enough to scald the roof of her mouth but tasted utterly divine in her hunger. Before Lucretia left the room, she tapped the bolts on Arienne’s door. Arienne got up from her stew and slid the bolts shut behind her.
Eldred then spoke from the room inside her mind.
“When can you make it to the Senate?”
“I have to take care of myself first, I told you. And what business do you have with the Circuit of Destiny?”
“I’ll tell you when the time comes. But first, I would appreciate it if you could unravel these bandages. I can’t move my arms.”
“Only if you keep your promise.”
The bandages that wrapped the Power generators were to prevent leakage of the Power. It wasn’t mentioned in her studies, but they also seemed to have a restrictive function against Eldred himself. She was afraid to imagine what would happen if she unwrapped Eldred’s bandages in the room of her mind.
“Just my head then? I can hardly see in front of me.”
Arienne didn’t answer.
“… All right, then. For now. I shall teach you the magic I promised you.”
He was acting as if he were doing her a great favor. As if he escaped his coffin and the Academy all on his own. Arienne went on eating her stew.
“My magic is the magic of memories. The principle is to re-create in the mind something one has previously experienced.”
“Like the room you’re in?” asked Arienne between mouthfuls of stew.
“Exactly. My expertise was in reanimating the memories of the dead and making them live again. Doing this inside one’s mind is mere imagination; making it happen in the outside world is magic. That you created this room and were able to move me from the real world into it is a great feat for someone with as little experience as you have.”
“You’re saying I can learn how to make whatever I imagine come to life?”
Eldred made a sound like a scoff.
“Imagining it is not enough. You must really believe in it. If it’s not a memory, it will not work. And you’re not creating something out of your imagining. You are using an image in your mind to gather your focus on the spell.”
“What’s the difference?”
“It would take years to explain that to you. Today, you cast off your robe in the market, did you not? Do you remember the spell you used?”
“I…”
Why hadn’t she noticed until now? It hadn’t been a spell she’d learned before.
“You were applying something you had learned when you made this room. To think of cutting the thread of your robe, you must’ve learned how to sew back home.”
