Chapter 9 #2
“It comes from a world called the Rivenwood, which we magicians have divided into fathoms, each darker than the last. They are imaginary borders, like lines on a map; the Rivenwood is contiguous.”
“How many fathoms are there?”
“Five that we know of.” He paused. “But from a practical standpoint, four.”
He was truly the most infuriating man I’d ever encountered. “It’s one or the other.”
“No one has ever ventured to the Fifth Fathom,” he said. “No one has dared. Likely it would tear a magician apart, even the most powerful among us. I don’t mean physically. We wouldn’t return as ourselves, but as something”—he seemed to search for words—“else.”
“I haven’t the faintest idea what that means,” I said despairingly. My dizziness seemed to be worsening. “What is the Rivenwood?”
“A world that lies behind this one like a shadow,” he said. “It is entirely forest, strange and dark as all our oceans put together, and it grows stranger and darker the deeper one goes. It’s a beautiful place. Too beautiful.”
He paused, and I assumed he was ruminating, but he only turned his head and sneezed into his elbow.
“The forest is the source of all magic,” he went on stuffily.
“Mortals have stumbled into it from time to time, through doors left open out of carelessness, but only magicians can travel freely between worlds.”
“Why didn’t you all just stay there, then?” I cut in bluntly. “If that’s where you get your power from.”
His expression became unreadable. “Magic is a dangerous thing.”
“Dangerous to you?” I said. “How? Or do you mean you have enemies in the Rivenwood?”
But he had reached his limit of helpfulness, it seemed, and only replied caustically, “I have enemies of all descriptions, few worse than your ten-pound flea collectors.” As if to underscore his point, he sneezed again.
I regarded him with disbelief as he murmured at his pebbles and fiddled with the curtains and lintels—I assumed he was doing magic, even if its effects were invisible to my eyes. Finally I said, “I have never heard anything so selfish in my entire life.”
That brought him up short. I could see it was not remotely what he’d expected me to say, if he’d expected anything at all; at times he seemed to be speaking more to himself than to me. “Selfish,” he repeated.
“Of course it’s selfish!” I exclaimed. “This place, this—otherworld where magic lives—you could simply stay away from it, but instead you bring its magic into our world, where it doesn’t belong, and inflict it upon ordinary people simply trying to go about their lives.
People, not minor characters in a book titled The Life of Havelock Renard. ”
I thought he wouldn’t reply at first. He was gazing at me now in a confused sort of way, and I had the impression that nobody had ever spoken to him as I was doing.
I felt a prickle of terror. Now that the mingled fury and panic were wearing off, I was hit by the full realization of what I was doing.
Naturally no one has become angry at him before, I thought.
This is Havelock Renard, and if anyone annoys him, he need only speak a word and transform them into a paper clip.
But he didn’t turn me into a paper clip, only turned away and said, as if it were an answer, “Magic is who I am.” There was something oddly youthful in his voice.
I gave a breath of laughter. “And do you ever think of anyone besides yourself?”
“You do enjoy judging people, don’t you.
” The awkwardness vanished, replaced by irritation and a cold sort of amusement.
“We’ve been acquainted all of ten minutes, during which I’ve saved your life and your hapless menagerie, and all you’ve done is lecture me.
I’ve never met a more self-righteous moralizer in my life.
So you don’t think I use my talents wisely, do you?
Well, I wonder what you would be doing with yourself if you didn’t have all these moggies to fuss over. Rounding up pigeons?”
My face flushed. “We would not have needed saving in the first place if you had been honest about who you were, because obviously I would not have taken the rental!”
I felt the lie as soon as I said it, and tried to tell myself it did not exist. Of course it would have been madness to rent the place had I known the Witch King dwelled down in the basement like some mythical monster.
And yet I couldn’t help thinking, If he’d only stayed down there. If only his enemies had never found him. élise and I could have remained in our state of blissful ignorance, and the cats would have been safe and warm in a more expansive home than they’d ever had before.
A home funded by illegal magic! my conscience protested weakly, and I grew even angrier at Havelock, but now only partly because he was wicked; it is impossible not to despise a person who calls to mind uncomfortable truths about oneself.
Havelock paused in the act of placing a pebble in a tiny crevice in the stone wall. He raised his arm, and I fell back, convinced he was about to unleash another horrible spell, but he only sneezed into his elbow again, and then again.
“Damn these cats!” he cried in a congested voice. “What did I tell you?”
“Would you like a tissue?” I said, maliciously polite.
He glanced over his shoulder and gave a start. “That one’s loose!”
I turned and found that His Majesty had joined us silently, blinking his golden eyes at Havelock in a considering sort of way.
“Come, Your Majesty,” I called, holding out my hand. “Here, boy.”
But His Majesty, uniquely attuned to human discomfort, stalked towards Havelock, who fell back another step.
“What is it doing?” he demanded. He covered his mouth again and gave another violent sneeze. “And why is it so large? Can you not control it?”
“Your Majesty!” I hastened after the cat, but he only darted closer to Havelock, tail curled in a playful question mark.
I made a dive for him and missed, the cat snaking aside and giving me the kind of growl that suggested he was eminently contented with this new game.
Meanwhile, Havelock ducked behind the counter.
“Don’t think I won’t enchant you,” Havelock threatened, seemingly to me, but it was possible he was talking to the cat.
We might have continued in this ludicrous manner, me chasing His Majesty and His Majesty chasing Havelock, but there came an abrupt pounding on the door, and it was loud enough to jolt even His Majesty to attention.