Chapter 57
Chapter
I’m not sure one ever gets used to sitting across from the archbishop of Canterbury. Maybe even worse, Chief Inquisitor Bishop Price sat beside him.
The archbishop’s face was solemn, and I could read little but weariness as I told my tale. And the truth this time: that I’d resurrected Ajax through some sort of witchery, likely granted to me by the lightning strike in my infancy. That I could—had—done the same to other fossilized creatures.
“I…see,” the archbishop said when I finished. He looked at Buckland, seated beside me. “So all your bold talk of hibernation, and divine cycles of resurrection…”
“I was hasty,” said Buckland. “And too proud by far.” His soft voice cracked. “If I had truly listened to Mary—or given Henry Stanton’s theory of species change the consideration it deserved—”
“We would have hanged Miss Anning that same night,” Bishop Price said, in the kindest voice I’d ever heard him use.
“Professor Buckland, if you’d come to us with a girl who could raise fossils, nothing could have saved her, whether she passed the inquisition or not.
” He looked at me with so much pity, I thought I might weep.
I swallowed. And to think I’d almost convinced myself that it wouldn’t have been so bad to tell the truth.
“And now?” I managed, in a weak voice.
The archbishop leaned back, exhaling and rubbing at his brow. He was quiet for a long, long time.
“Now, having examined the evidence you provided, I am sufficiently convinced that witchery such as yours is a natural condition. A blessing, even.”
I bowed my head; it sounded like a benediction.
Henry Stanton had vanished after I healed Buckland and Ajax. He hadn’t been seen since.
But I still had the key to his house. I’d taken the research—maps and books and pages of notes on witches and natural catastrophes—and provided it to the archbishop.
That wasn’t the only thing we’d handed over, though. Edgar was currently convalescing in the heresy suite, under zealous Inquisitor watch.
“And yet, it must be secret,” Price said.
“For now, at least,” the archbishop added soothingly, before Buckland or I could object. “Until such time as we can determine more about the dangers of the witchery you’ve uncovered.”
“You mean until you determine whether other witches can use living beings as reliqs,” I said.
“Yes,” the archbishop said reluctantly.
It was the first thing Buckland and I realized when we formed this plan.
What if there truly were witches who could resurrect people, as I did the fossils? And, more terrifying, could those revived humans also be used as reliqs?
Exactly as the old legends about witches claimed. Vampyrism de l’ame. The stealing of souls for magic.
“It would throw us right back to the witch hunts,” Bishop Price said sharply. “And I have vowed: never again. The Inquisitors are better than that.”
The archbishop nodded. “If it got out, we would have a schism. Or worse, a civil war. Even if we managed to avoid all that—and I do not think we would, given the precarious state of things already.”
People were already calling it the Black Morning. Reports were that twelve people had died in the citywide clashes between military and protestors. Blood still stained the streets, and the wind still smelled of ash when it blew from the east.
But then, in the midst of the violence, the earth itself had trembled in fury. A divine warning, it was said. An unsteady peace lingered. But it wouldn’t last forever.
The archbishop and Price were right. If we sowed suspicion of necromancy, of the resurrected dead? Of witches using living reliqs? It would be like pouring gunpowder on flame.
I weighed all these truths against the lie—a lie of omission, still a lie—and the cost of the truth was more death than I was prepared to accept. Was this always how it felt, to hold the world’s secrets? It made my shoulders ache.
Buckland caught my eye. It was time. Still, I hesitated. I’m only human. Of course I hesitated.
It had been my idea, but that didn’t make it any less awful to say aloud. To make it real.
“That’s why it has to be a hoax,” I said softly. “Ajax. That’s the only way forward that I can see. We will say he was a toucan—or maybe a puffin—that I altered with glue and paint. It will be believable enough.”
The archbishop straightened, his eyes widening. “Maybe to the crowds who saw him from afar. But what about your own Society members? They will know better.” He turned to Buckland. “And would they believe you were deceived? They’ll know it wasn’t a hoax.”
“The Society fellows can keep a secret,” Buckland said meaningfully, “if it serves Her Majesty’s purpose.”
They would be bound to, in fact, if it was written into the bylaws. And Buckland had been elected president now, in Henry’s mysterious absence; he could see it done.
“Hen—Mr. Stanton and Viscount Merlton worked out that Ajax served as a reliq easily enough. Others will, too,” I said softly.
My friends—Mantell and Goldsmild—they would know the truth, at least. They would know I had not deceived them. I took solace in that. But they would never be able to defend me. To tell the truth. The sorcery would hold their tongues if they tried.
The archbishop’s gaze sharpened. “Be that as it may. Your reputations will be ruined. All the good work we’ve done together. Tarnished. This will injure the Church, too.”
I bit my lip, but Bishop Price shook his head. “And yet, I cannot see another way, Your Grace.”
“Perhaps it is for the best,” Buckland said quietly.
His hands were folded neatly, and he was looking at the stained-glass window.
Christ, bent with his cross on his shoulder.
“I thought that if I drew the lines neatly enough between the Bible and geomagic, it could erase all doubt.
But I have stretched the truth to do so, and those lines have blurred.
“Perhaps at some point we must let people decide what to believe, and trust they are wise enough to hold two things at once and find truth where they will.”
The archbishop frowned. “I don’t like it.”
“None of us do,” I muttered, and at least that made him laugh. The laughter turned into a sigh, and then I knew. He had agreed.
“I will have to give you both a very public chastising. Are you prepared for that, Miss Anning? Are you, Buckland? You will be stripped of your chaplaincy, and your post at Oxford, too.”
His face paled, but he nodded. “I am prepared.”
Buckland would have to step down from the presidency, after it was done. We would both resign from the Society.
Even if the Society knew or suspected that Ajax hadn’t been a hoax, the rest of the world’s geomagicians wouldn’t understand why the propagators of said hoax were still members in good standing of the Geomagical Society of London.
They would start asking questions. No. For this plan to work, we had to be completely, utterly disgraced.
“There is one condition,” I said, clearing my throat.
Buckland spun. He knew very well we hadn’t discussed any conditions.
The archbishop raised his brow. I swallowed.
“Whether you approve of their methods or not, the Prometheans have a point. I would urge you, Your Grace, to hear them out. Meet with their leaders, at least. Because the reliq system is cruel, and unfair.” I took a deep breath. “Trust me. I have sold magic myself, in desperate times.”
Bishop Price made a small sound of surprise. I wondered when either of these great churchmen had last spoken with someone who’d traded magic in the slicks.
“I certainly don’t have the answers,” I continued.
“Higher rates, or reform, or destroying the system altogether. But what I do know, I know from the Proverbs, as my father taught me: ‘Whoever oppresses the poor shows contempt for their Maker, but whoever is kind to the needy honors God,’ ” I quoted meaningfully.
I was shaking when I finished. Who was I to recite scripture at the archbishop?
But he looked thoughtful. “I confess your words strike at my heart, Miss Anning. I agree to your terms. I will meet with their leaders.”
I managed to untangle my tongue to thank him, and we rose from our seats, the business concluded. The archbishop shook my hand, and then put his other hand over both of ours.
“I doubt we will see each other again, Miss Anning, but please know…” He smiled, sadly, kindly, and I felt again that old pang of loss for my father, who had smiled like that, too.
“You will be in my prayers, always.” He patted my hand, and then he turned to Buckland.
“Come, my old friend. Let us have one more drink before I defrock you.”
I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to follow them, but Bishop Price lingered. “The martyr’s path is a noble one, but lonely,” he murmured.
I stayed quiet, politely looking where he did, at the stained glass.
“The Inquisitors will be on high alert for signs of this fossil-magic, or bone-magic,” he continued. “If we do hear of any, perhaps you might be willing to consult on such a case?”
I looked at the Inquisitor, startled, but pleased.
“I would be glad to consult,” I said quickly. I had resigned myself to ignorance when I handed over Henry’s research; the mysteries of witchery and natural magic would be unraveled by others, I’d assumed.
But I was still a scientist. And Lord knows, I couldn’t resist an unanswered question.
“Please do contact me if any such case arises. I would be very pleased to consult on the matter.”