45. Sam The Duel
Sam: The Duel
Lucir : This casting will only function upon certain materials. The greater the material’s translucence, the better. Glass, water, and clear oils are most adaptable to lucir.
—Euphemia Parra, Encantos de palabra (translation mine)
Our original plan had not required racing to the Manse in an enchanted barouche. The Sor Juana Alliance would venture to the Manse while we conducted the séance, and Clem and I would arrive afterward with Roy. But what I’d seen in Roy’s thoughts had upended our plans.
“Tell me,” Clem demanded, as we bolted along the dirt road. She had a grim look in her eye. I’d allowed my appearance to return to normal, and Clem had removed the lacquered comb and given it to me for safekeeping.
“Wister and the other Sor Juanas never arrived at the Manse.”
“What happened?”
“The Cisneros Society attacked Keel House.”
“Demonios,” she cursed. “One of their thews must have picked up a stray thought. How badly?”
“It might have been worse, for as soon as we started the séance, all of Cisneros descended upon the Lyceum.”
“So the Manse is unguarded.” The carriage hit a pothole that jolted us several inches into the air.
“Yes. And the task falls to us,” I said, my solemnity somewhat compromised by the way I was bouncing like a rubber ball. “We’ll have to destroy the portal alone. It’s likely we won’t have help for a while.”
She looked at me grimly before turning her eyes back to the road. “Very well. I understand.”
“We’ll leave again as soon as the portal is destroyed,” I said. “Perhaps we can avoid a confrontation.”
Clem didn’t say anything. We rode on in silence.
The trip to Lynn Woods was accomplished in record time, and unless he’d flown there on the back of some creature created by the Cisneros Steel, Draken couldn’t have reached the Manse before us.
As we approached the property, still in the animated carriage, everything seemed calm and quiet within.
Clementine halted the barouche with a quick word and alighted rapidly. “Which way?” she asked me.
I pointed toward the trees, a prickle of dread arising at the sight of that familiar entrance into the woods.
How many times had I walked this path, preparing myself to enter the realm, calming my nerves, wondering if I would survive?
My reluctance slowed my steps, and Clementine vanished between the trees before I’d even reached the entrance to the grove.
“Stand guard,” she called to me, unseen. I was glad to do so.
I looked back at the mansion, which in the bright sunlight looked almost inviting.
The rectangular fountain, lined by two long flagstone paths, bubbled cheerfully.
Water lilies opened their pale faces to the sun, their waxy petals immovable, perfect.
A pair of house sparrows tussled near the shrubs that bordered the paths, darting in and out, the branches rustling against their wings.
Why was it so different to be in the world?
Watching from the realm of the dead was like kissing one’s beloved through a pane of glass.
There was a sense of proximity, but no scent or touch or warmth; one was aware of the separation more than anything.
Even here, in this place where I’d experienced mostly terror, the vividness of the living world was overwhelming in its beauty.
My eye was drawn back to the grove into which Clementine had vanished, and I saw a pillar of smoke rising from within. I hurried through the trees to find her.
She stood ten paces back from the cottage, watching it burn.
I’d arrived in time to see the door devoured by flames; around it, the stone walls disappeared behind sheets of fire.
Then the flames engulfed the wood-shingle roof, racing up one side in a matter of seconds.
I watched, mouth agape, as the roof imploded like paper, crumpling into the cottage and collapsing the front wall.
It had taken less than a minute. Clementine raised her right hand and closed her fist. “Cesar,” she said quietly.
The flames obediently shrank and then dwindled, leaving a charred pile of stones and tendrils of smoke that snaked delicately upward. All that had survived was the pile of rope by my feet that some unfortunate had used to lash himself to the door. The portal to the spirit realm was gone.
I surveyed the destruction, impressed by its thoroughness.
By some instinct or attachment, I reached down to pick up the rope.
It wasn’t as good as one of my father’s, but it was sturdy, the fibers whole.
“Clem,” I said to her, “I’ve been wondering.
Was it real fire or false fire, what you launched at Simeon and Sikes? ”
She turned slowly and gave me a smile. “You were watching?”
I returned her smile. “That was the day I first saw you. You’d run afoul of Simeon Trench earlier that day, and I was worried. You didn’t seem well-equipped to defend yourself.”
Clem gave a rare laugh.
“I came to see otherwise, of course,” I said, “but it took me a while.”
She looked at me thoughtfully. “What did you think you’d do to help me?”
“I tried to warn you away from things. Many times. And you ignored me.”
“Yes. I remember. You were very insistent.” She smiled again. “It was false fire.”
I shook my head. “But that’s a very difficult casting. And you were drunk.”
Clem looked at me, amused. “I was no more drunk than you are now.”
“What?”
“Not in the least. I heard Vera scream, so I looked out the window and saw what she was up against. The situation required a fool, and I’m always ready to play the fool.
” She turned back to the charred remains of the cottage and threw something from her pocket over the crumbled stone wall.
“Madurar, madera,” she whispered. A crunching sound from within the ruins gave way to a rapid rustling, and I watched in admiration as a sapling burst upward from the stones, thickening and branching before my eyes, quickly obscuring the sun that came down into the clearing.
Within seconds it had stopped, and an oak stood where the cottage had once been, dwarfing the trees around it so that the footprint of the house seemed diminutive.
“Just to make sure,” she said with satisfaction.
“And we’ll use the stones for something else. ”
I didn’t have the chance to ask how she’d done it, because the clattering sound of carriages on the dirt road announced an imminent arrival. We looked at each other, then walked together out into the gardens.
The Cisneros Society had arrived. Not just Karl Draken, but Hornsby and several other members as well, all with their attendant thews.
I could see enough in their unguarded thoughts to discern that they were gathering here to plan their next move after the séance.
So we could expect more than a hundred enchanters to arrive at the Manse in due course.
And yes, there he was—Simeon! He alighted with his father, entirely unaware of who awaited him.
The men of the Cisneros Society stopped at the sight of us.
I had dropped my disguise, and Clem looked exactly like herself: still rakishly attired in her trousers and shirt, hair tousled, expression calm.
Simeon stared at us. For a brief moment, as he realized who I was, I had the pleasure of seeing his confusion melt into a spasm of alarm, and then, abruptly, he guarded his thoughts.
The response was repeated in every one of them who’d known me as a living man.
Even the thews looked momentarily taken aback.
Juno, always more quick-witted than the rest, gave me an enigmatic smile that might have signaled the pleasure of reunion or, on the other hand, the pleasure of confronting a favorite nemesis.
She flitted past us into the woods before returning and announcing, in a raised voice, “The portal has been annihilated.”
I couldn’t entirely follow what occurred next.
I felt Clementine suddenly grappling with half a dozen forces at once.
Dust filled the air, a gust of wind hit my chest hard, and a thunderous crack, as of thunder, echoed overhead.
“A duel,” she shouted. She was holding her hand out in a halting gesture.
“I call a duel,” she repeated. “With any member of the Cisneros Society who will represent the rest.”
This was met with silence. You may recall that dueling is, not to put too fine a point upon it, illegal. And yet there was no other sensible course of action. We would never succeed against a dozen enchanters, most of whom had thews. And more were on their way.
“I will,” Simeon called out, cutting into the silence. His voice was eager, and I confess that I felt some eagerness in return. Yes, I thought. Let it be Simeon.
“You’re the only man here without a thew,” his father said in an acid tone. This confused me momentarily: Had he not bound Rosetta as his thew after all?
“I don’t need one,” Simeon retorted, looking around at the other enchanters. “Do you really think that I’d need a thew to defeat a woman? I will use the Cisneros Steel,” he said boldly, turning toward Draken.
Perhaps Draken was charmed by the idea of allowing their most junior member to flatten such an impudent challenger, for he gave a slight nod.
“On the lawn.” He gestured toward the broad open space between the grove and the flagstone steps.
He began unfastening the armor by undoing the ties at his sides.
Meanwhile, the other enchanters headed to the lawn, where they arranged themselves in a semicircle at the far end.
Clementine and I followed. I glanced at Clem, hoping she had a more specific plan in mind, but she gave nothing away.