Chapter 11
The snuggery was a whirl of chaos, magic charging the air and sparking off the shelves.
A rainbow of teacup dragons swooped and rolled in the currents, delighting in the whole thing.
They were made for chaos, utterly at home in it, Noah thought, surprised at how affectionate that thought sounded.
The short time he had spent caring for the teacup dragons so far had completely changed his views, it seemed.
Seeing them outside of the world of breeders and fanciers, that staid and formal association with its cruel restrictions and barbs, had given him a fresh appreciation for them.
They were joyful and sweet, full of life.
The eleven adult dragons here were relatively untouched by the decay of their magical connection.
They were still bright and beautiful, still flying with ease, their cries of delight like birdsong.
Their eyes flashed like precious jewels and their wings were blurs of motion, glittering and beautiful.
Noah was so taken with simply watching them that for a moment he forgot he was there to talk to Portia’s brother about their uncle. It was like being a child again, staring up at the mountains, at the distant shapes whirling in the sky, high overhead.
Something shot past his head, so close that he instinctively ducked.
A feeding bowl, he realised, as it clattered into the wall behind him.
There was a spray of water from the other side and suddenly he realised he was in the middle of a maelstrom of magic, with potentially painful objects flying at him, not just tiny dragons.
Noah covered his head and tried to retreat, but the door behind him slammed shut. He may have given a yelp.
Seb’s voice sounded distracted. ‘Sorry! Sorry, I’ll just… hang on a second.’
Everything subsided in a staccato judder, like someone was trying to grab control by the handful. It was suddenly very quiet, but for the disappointed cooing of the dragons who fluttered back to their nests.
Noah uncurled himself and saw Seb still sitting in the middle of the floor, biting his lower lip, and watching him approach with wide eyes.
‘Sorry,’ Portia’s younger brother said again. He looked more like Portia than the others, slender, angular, with soft golden-brown eyes. His hair fell in a dishevelled mop over his face and he pushed it back with a long-fingered hand. ‘I was rather caught up in it. Did anything hit you?’
Noah shook his head. ‘Perhaps I should have knocked.’
Seb laughed ruefully. ‘If you had I wouldn’t have heard you anyway.’ He got to his feet and held out his hand nervously. ‘I’m Seb. The chaos gremlin of the family. Approach with care. They should have warned you. We haven’t actually met yet. Iris speaks highly of you.’
Noah shook his hand. Each of the Starling siblings surprised him in different ways.
He could see their similarities but at the same time the glaring differences made it hard to believe they were actually related.
Seb’s outwardly friendly nature and flippant remarks seemed such a contrast to the other three.
He was more like Iris there. The youngest of them, Noah realised, and it showed in those eyes.
‘Portia asked me to talk to you about Art, about his work. There was something she missed in the book, a margin note.’
The understanding in his face shouldn’t have been a worry.
It was like watching him reach a realisation and then instantly blame himself.
‘I should have warned her,’ he said. ‘They come and go, his notes. That was his way. He never shared everything. He’d been burned too badly by others stealing his work when he was young.
The book wasn’t meant for anyone except him but even so…
’ He cursed softly. ‘I should have told her to look out for things like that. I didn’t think. Blast, this is all my fault, isn’t it?’
He sank back to his sitting position on the floor.
‘No,’ Noah said, bemused. Seb couldn’t blame himself any more than Portia could, especially if the notes weren’t always visible. But they both seemed intent on shouldering the blame. ‘It was just…’
Seb shook his head, not really listening. ‘When did it appear?’
‘Just now. I… I mean, I saw it first, when we checked the recipe.’
Portia’s brother made a slightly sour face. ‘Oh, one of those. He had an odd sense of humour. I take it you don’t have any magic?’
He said it so matter-of-factly that Noah was taken aback. Most magical people were very circumspect about asking that question, as if being non-magical was something to be ashamed of. Or pitied.
‘No,’ he replied. ‘Not a bit.’
Seb nodded slowly and held out his hand.
Three of the teacup dragons spiralled down to land on his arm, purring at him, rubbing their noses against his shirt.
‘That’s a favourite trick of Art’s, you see?
’ he said. ‘Make it so something important is invisible to those with magic. He’d slide things in under a thaumaturgical field.
Said it was to teach us not to be too reliant on our gifts.
His spells were exceptional, but when he was at the Academy, they took advantage of him horribly, stole his ideas, cheated him.
It’s kind of the way of things there. It’s cut-throat.
He developed ways of protecting his work like that.
Besides, he always said we relied on magic too much. ’
A Starling? Arguing against the use of magic?
‘Can you help her? Portia, I mean. You know the book, don’t you?’
Seb shrugged, his attention fixed on the dragons who were clearly taken with him.
Why not, with that much magic coursing through him?
He might not have complete control of it, but he was powerful.
There was no doubting that. He was a source of magic for them now, and they needed that.
The gentleness with which he treated them was an added bonus.
By now, Noah knew a besotted dragon when he saw one. Or rather, eleven of them.
‘Probably not. She wouldn’t want me to either. I tend to mess up her orderly approach, sometimes just by being nearby. Besides, I need to stay here, with the dragons, just to hold back the effects of the spell. If I can keep these ones safe…’
The resolution was there on his face, something that Noah recognised and respected. Seb wasn’t going to let anything happen to the flight if he could protect them. A trait of the whole family when you got down to it, protectors of this island and this sanctuary.
He settled down on the ground beside Seb Starling. ‘Portia asked if you knew of any spells in the book to reinforce or restore a magical connection. Something to create one? Or if your uncle had left an artifact to do that.’
‘To make the non-magical magical?’ Seb gave a soft and bitter laugh.
‘Oh, there are people out there who would pay a fortune for that. And worse. That’s why there are laws about the use of magic.
Can you imagine what an unscrupulous person would do if they had such power?
There’s already a thriving black market for those whose magic is weaker than others, so they can cast spells they shouldn’t be able to handle.
No, as far as I know that’s not possible. Thank Wenn beneath the waves for that.’
‘What about repairing it? That has to be a thing.’
Seb seemed to ponder that for a long time while the little sylvan bronze dragon tried to chew on his cuff.
He ignored her but she was going to swallow the button eventually, so Noah reached out and lifted her off him.
She wrapped her spindly tail around his arm and clung to him, shivering slightly.
Not a good sign. She needed the other man’s magic more and more now.
They all did. Carefully, Noah returned her to Seb’s shoulder instead.
She burrowed into his hair. A further four dragons flew down to him, seeking out his magic and the comfort it gave them.
This was all more serious than Noah had thought and getting worse by the hour.
Finally, Seb answered him. ‘It sounds like the type of thing Milo and Portia were working on in the Academy. Maybe the answer isn’t in Uncle Art’s book but in her own work?
I know he did some work on thaumaturgical fields and ways of expanding them.
Or was it tapping into the prime threads of magic in the earth?
Yes, that might help. Near the end of the book.
After the section about transmogrification.
He was writing to Gilden and May, I think, discussing it with them and he made quite a lot of notes based on their ideas.
Thaddeus May knew more about the study of prime threads than anyone else in Elanholm or Shinael, but the Academy expunged his books from the library.
Art’s notes on their correspondence might be the last extant references we can access.
He never trusted the Academy. You should probably both take a look, just in case he hid the text. ’
‘And you need to cook up another magical storm for the dragons.’
Seb laughed. ‘I’ve never heard it put like that before. A magical storm. I like it. But yes. At least it’s for something useful for once.’
‘It is useful, Seb,’ Noah assured him. ‘It’s all that’s keeping them safe right now. No one else can do as much. You do know that, don’t you?’
If anything, Seb looked surprised. Then he blushed.
‘Portia could. It would probably be a lot safer for everyone else as well. But she’s got to figure this out. Don’t worry. She can do anything, given the time and the space. You’ll see. She’ll fix this.’ His faith in his sister shone from his eyes and Noah had to smile.
‘She’s very good at what she does,’ he admitted.