The Width of the World Read online

I glanced at Delph. “You should head off to bed,” I said.

  He glanced at Petra, then back at me.

  “You sure?”

  “Quite sure,” I replied firmly. “I’d like a quiet word with Petra before I turn in.”

  “Well, if you’re su —”

  “Delph!”

  He nearly ran out of the room.

  I turned to face Petra, who sat back on the bed looking defiantly at me.

  “I’m not one of those Maladons,” she said sharply. “I don’t care what their blasted enchanted whatsit says.”

  “No, I don’t believe you are.”

  “Yes, you do!” she shot back. “I see the way you and Delph look at me. And even Harry Two there watches me closely, like I’ll attack you or something given the chance.”

  “I think you’re being a bit silly about this.”

  “Silly! I was very nearly killed by your servants!”

  “And I stopped them, didn’t I?” I snapped.?She was about to say something else, but I suppose my harsh words gave her pause.

  She said grudgingly, “Yes, you did. And I thank you for that.”

  “You’re welcome. But my point is, why would I have done that if I thought you were a Maladon?”

  “Well, I’ve got Maladon blood in me, haven’t I?”

  “But you can see this place, can’t you? So even if you have a bit of Maladon blood in you, it’s obviously been outweighed by, well, good stuff.”

  “So what? Someone in my family was your enemy. I don’t know who it was, but it’s tainted me. I’m not like you. I’m … I’m unclean or something. Leastways I feel like I am.”

  I sat on the bed next to her. I could actually understand how she was feeling. I felt that way back in Wormwood when I discovered I had powers that no one else there did. And I also wanted to know things about my past. I wanted to know what was beyond the Quag. Other than Delph, no one in Wormwood was interested in any of that. It made me feel like an outsider, like I didn’t belong. Like I was different in a bad way.

  “Petra, you have no way of controlling who your ancestors were, or what they did. Same as me.”

  “But at least your ancestors were good. They fought to protect themselves from the Maladons. And if this Endemen bloke is what all Maladons are like, well, they’re just evil. Which … which means that I … that I …” Her lips trembled and she couldn’t finish. She looked away so I wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes.

  I put a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve had plenty of chances to be evil, Petra. You could have hurt us easily enough when we were going through the Quag, but instead you helped us get through. Without you we wouldn’t have made it. You were brave and strong and you fought against the evil. Not for it.”

  “But what if … what if down the road I change. What if …”

  “You become evil because Maladon blood runs in your veins?”

  She was looking at me now, her features twitching. I knew what she wanted me to say: that she could never become evil. That she could never truly become a Maladon. But I couldn’t say that because I wasn’t sure if she could or not. I could only say what I was feeling.

  “I trust you, Petra. I’ve trusted you with my life before. And I will trust you with my life again.”

  “You really mean that?”

  “I really mean that,” I answered, squeezing her shoulder.

  She wouldn’t meet my gaze, and under the pressure of my fingers, I could feel her trembling. She slowly turned to look at me, her face so rigid that I thought someone had cast the Subservio spell on her.

  Finally, after a few moments, her features relaxed, and she touched my hand with hers and said, “I trust you too, Vega. You, well, you saved my life, more times than I can count.”

  “We have to be there for each other. We’re both magical. Delph isn’t. We can’t let anything happen to him.”

  “I’d die before I let him come to any harm,” she said immediately.

  This both pleased and bothered me.

  Petra had very clearly lost her heart to Delph.

  And love was a funny thing. It could be wonderful and positive and simply good.

  Or it could be the power behind things truly ugly. And right now I had no way of knowing how her feelings for Delph would turn out.

  “Get some sleep,” I said.

  She nodded and climbed under the covers.

  As I reached the door, I turned to see her watching me.

  Her look was searching but also somehow inscrutable.

  I closed the door behind me and walked slowly back to my room with Harry Two beside me.

  I shut and locked my door and climbed under the covers.

  I took out my wand and stared at it. I hadn’t had it all that long, and yet now it seemed like I had never been without it. Even had I not known that Empyrean was Alice Adronis’s home, I should have. Because the wand had sensed the proximity of the place and had led me right here.

  Alice and her husband, Gunther. Uma Cadmus. Her father, Bastion. All the rest of the men and women in those portraits all over this place. They were my past. Some were my family. My future too would be borne out by what happened here in the days ahead.

  But after so much danger and nearly losing our lives, it was so very wonderful to have a safe haven such as this. Food in our bellies, a house full of loyal servants, warm beds and rooms to explore. I stretched out like a feline, so good did I feel about all of it. Part of me thought I could spend the rest of my life here, and quite pleasantly indeed.

  I fell asleep with this sole thought in mind.

  THE RAPPING ON the door brought me awake. I rubbed my eyes and sat up in bed.

  “Hello?” I said groggily.

  “ ’Tis Pillsbury with your breakfast, Mistress Vega.”

  “Oh, okay. Come in, then.”

  Harry Two popped up when the door opened, and there was Pillsbury, his metal gleaming so brightly that I suspected he might have polished himself up during the night. He was carrying a short-legged wooden table, upon which sat several dishes covered with pewter lids.

  “If you would care to sit up just a bit more, milady,” he said graciously as he approached the bed.

  Confused, I sat up straight against my pillow.

  Pillsbury placed the little table over my lap while I further adjusted my position to accommodate this rather strange way of having one’s meal.

  He uncovered the dish lids, and my eyes lit up when I saw the foods underneath. And then I took a deep breath and the most wonderful smells invaded my nose.

  I looked up at him and said in a near moan, “This is fantastic, Pillsbury.”

  “Mrs. Jolly will be so pleased.” He uncovered one more bowl, which had a divider. One half was filled with food and the other with water.

  “I took the liberty of preparing Harry Two’s meal as well.”

  He set this on the floor, and Harry Two jumped down, gave a bark of thanks and dug in.

  Pillsbury unrolled my cloth napkin and handed it to me, and then poured out a steaming cup of tea.

  “I hope everything will be to your liking, Mistress Vega.”

  “I’m sure it will. And I’ll be sure to pop down to the kitchen and tell Mrs. Jolly myself.”

  “She would be extremely pleased and honored if you did,” he said, his metal visor seeming to beam with pleasure at my words. “Now, tuck in and I shall leave you to it. When you’re done, you need only say ‘Pillsbury’ and I will return straightaway to collect the dishes.”

  As he turned to leave I said, “Uh, Pillsbury?”

  He immediately pivoted. “Yes, milady?”

  “I had a visitor in my room last night. Her name was Uma?”

  The metallic Pillsbury seemed to wilt under my words.

  “Oh, dear. I had no idea. I thought she might have left us. It has been a very long time since I’ve seen her.”

  “I know she’s Bastion Cadmus’s daughter. And I saw her grave in the Quag at Wolvercote Cemetery. But that’s
really all I know.”

  He seemed to leap back at my words.

  “You … you saw her grave?” he sputtered.

  “Yes, I did. The tombstone said —” I paused, thinking back.

  Pillsbury said somberly, “The Strength of Love, the Fallacy of Youth.”

  I looked at him in amazement. “Yes. How did you know?”

  “We knew the Cadmuses well,” he said. “They visited here often when Mistress Alice was alive. Such happy times. But it was so very sad what happened. Her father was so cut up over it, I can tell you that.”

  “What did happen?”

  He said imploringly, “Please, miss, your food will grow cold.”

  I looked down at the tray, my stomach overcoming my brain.

  “Okay, but when I’m done, will you tell me?”

  “You need only utter my name,” he said a bit grimly.

  He left, and I instantly started to eat. The food was wonderful. I thought I could hear myself purring.

  Twenty minutes later I was done. I pondered what to do next. I moved the tray aside and opened the door next to my bed. This was a washroom, like at Morrigone’s back in Wormwood.

  I did my business, cleaned up, changed into fresh clothes, left my room and knocked on Delph’s door.

  “Delph? Are you decent?”

  The door opened, and Delph stood there fully dressed in some of the clothes we had nicked from Saint Necro’s back in True. A white shirt with a collar, a vest, a tweed jacket and pants, and sturdy shoes. He had cleaned up and washed his hair, which was long, thick and smelled wonderful.

  “Have you finished eating?” I said, a bit wonky from how he looked and smelled.

  I glanced over my shoulder to see that Pillsbury had had to bring in an entire rolling table to accommodate Delph’s “full-on breakfast.” I could also see that every plate and bowl was so empty, they looked clean.

  “Yep,” he said. “That Mrs. Jolly knows her way round the dishes, she does.”

  “Can you come back to my room? Pillsbury will be joining us. He’s going to talk about some stuff I want you to hear.”

  “Okay. Er, what about Petra?”

  I glanced down the hall toward Petra’s door. “After last night, let’s just let her have a lie-in,” I said.

  Delph looked at me uncertainly. But he fell in behind me as we walked back to my room.

  We arrived and I said the name “Pillsbury.”

  He instantly appeared at the door, as though he could perform the Pass-pusay incantation.

  “Yes, Mistress Vega? All done, are we?”

  “Yes, Pillsbury, and it was absolutely amazing. Now, I want you to tell Delph and me about Uma Cadmus.”

  Delph glanced sharply at me but said nothing. I didn’t know if he recalled Uma’s name on the gravestone back at Wolvercote Cemetery.

  Pillsbury marched forward slowly. “Yes, miss, of course.” He hesitated, his metal feet shuffling a bit, his visor pointed to the floor. “Where to begin, where to begin. I wonder.”

  “Perhaps at the very beginning?” I suggested in what I hoped was a helpful tone.

  “Yes, yes, of course.” He cleared his throat as Delph and I settled down in two comfortable chairs to listen.

  “Bastion Cadmus was the leader of our people, and he and his wife, Victoria, had only one child, Uma. She was everything to them.”

  “Then it’s doubly sad that she died so young,” I said.

  “Yes,” said Pillsbury, not meeting my gaze. “Very sad indeed. Well, anyway, Uma was a lovely girl. Beautiful on the outside, and so full of goodness on the inside. And as she grew up, it naturally became a topic of discussion and speculation as to whom she might marry one day.”

  “I’m sure there were many young men who would have been right happy to marry her,” I said.

  “Oh, indeed there were. Yes. But you have to understand that this was before the war with the Maladons. However, things were already happening that would lead to that terrible clash. The Maladons’ leader, the accursed Necro —”

  “Necro?” I exclaimed. “There’s a Saint Necro in the town of True. It’s a place where people go to worship.”

  “Indeed?” he said curiously. “Well, Necro’s followers did worship him, though he was a foul man.”

  “You knew him?”

  “He came here, several times. You see, there were efforts to forestall a war. Talks, discussions, negotiations. The Janes and the Adronises and Bastion Cadmus were at the head of this effort. I well remember the bloke. His face, oh so pale and smooth, and his voice, so silky. But there was pure evil in him. I knew from the moment I laid eyes on him that these efforts to avoid an all-out war were doomed from the start. Necro wanted to be the ruler not simply of the Maladons, but of everyone.”

  “And Uma?”

  “Well, Uma did find a young man whom she dearly loved. His name was Jason.”

  I glanced over at Delph but just for a moment.

  “That’s, um, nice,” I said.

  “He was the son of Necro.”

  “What?” I nearly shrieked.

  “Blimey,” said Delph. “That was a bit awkward, eh?”

  “More than a bit,” conceded Pillsbury. “Anyway, they kept their relationship a secret for a long time. But it was eventually discovered.”

  “And what happened?” I asked.

  “At first folks thought it was a positive development, because with the way things were deteriorating between the two camps, it was believed that a truce might be possible. And there were those who felt that perhaps Jason, who was very unlike his devilish father, might come to power one day and ensure peace, aided by his wife, Uma. But alas, that was not to be.”

  “Why not?”

  “Jason died,” Pillsbury said simply.

  I exclaimed, “He died? But he must have been very young.”

  “Oh, he was. Not more than twenty.”

  Delph said, “How did he die?”

  With this question, Pillsbury seemed to collapse. His metal just drooped like a flower in the hot sun.

  “He was stabbed. His killer was never caught, but there were suspicions.”

  “Like what?” I asked.

  “That his father had had him killed because Jason was in love with Uma. You see, Necro did not want a truce. He wanted war.”

  “But to kill his own son?” I said.

  “As I told you, Necro was evil. He would kill anyone if it meant his rise to power would continue.”

  “And Uma?” I asked.

  “So very sad. When she discovered that Jason had been killed, she put stones into her pockets, walked into deep water and drowned herself.”

  “Holy Steeples!” I exclaimed.

  Delph shook his head sadly. “ ’Tain’t right,” he said. “Just ain’t right.”

  “Then what happened?” I asked breathlessly.

  “Well, Necro of course claimed that our side had murdered his son. He swore revenge. He rallied his followers. All talk of peace crumbled. And … and the war commenced.” He paused; tried to say something but couldn’t.

  “And our lot lost,” I finished for him.

  His visor nodded up and down. “Yes, quite so. Our lot lost.”

  As he finished speaking, I had only one thought:

  Don’t let us lose again.

  After a few moments of silence, Pillsbury said brightly, “Would you care to see Jasper Jane’s workshop? It’s quite interesting. And located in the highest turret here.”

  “Yes, please,” I said.

  And so we set off.

  IT WAS A bit unnerving, really, seeing my ancestor Jasper Jane’s chambers. This was because they reminded me a great deal of Thorne’s laboratory back in the Quag. As Pillsbury had noted, it was on the very highest turret at Empyrean. He had brought me, Delph and Harry Two up here straight away.

  There were tables and benches overflowing with odd devices, and reams of parchments covered in spidery handwriting. Shelves and cabinets against the walls wer
e crammed with bottles containing different colored liquids and jars with bits of things I didn’t recognize. Big bottles with tubing connecting them were perched on one long table in the center of the room. Little canisters I recognized as the flame boxes we used at Stacks were under some of the bottles. There were also boxes of powders, and huge books that would take me a long time to read, provided I could even understand them.

  Animal hides were nailed to the wall and also lay on the floor. Heads of creatures completely unfamiliar to me were either hanging from the walls or seated on tall pedestals.

  Delph just stared in silence.

  Harry Two let out a protesting howl when he saw the myriad animal heads.

  I looked around, feeling quite nervous.

  Pillsbury said proudly, “Master Jasper had quite the active mind, he did. Was always into something or other. Would be up here all hours, days on end. I’d have to bring him his meals in here. And the smells.” His metal body shivered. “Well, they were memorable, I’ll leave it at that.”

  I didn’t know where to start. I really didn’t even know why I was here. Well, I did know actually. This was my family. My long-ago family I never knew even existed. I had to find out as much as I could. Not just because it might help me survive. I mean, weren’t you supposed to know about your own family?

  Pillsbury, perhaps sensing my indecision, said, “May I leave you to it, Mistress Vega? I have a few things to attend to in furtherance of my household duties.”

  “Oh, right, yes, go ahead, Pillsbury. We’ll be fine.”

  He gave me a comically deep bow — I actually thought he might get stuck in the down position — and then he was off.

  Delph came to stand next to me.

  “Blimey, Vega Jane. What do we do with all this?”

  “We just start looking.”

  We had begun to search the chamber when a disheveled-looking Petra suddenly appeared in the doorway.

  She said crossly, “I’ve been looking all over for you two. I saw Pillsbury on the stairs. He said you were up here. Why didn’t you come and get me?”

  Delph automatically looked at me.

  Males!

  I said, almost truthfully, “We thought we’d let you sleep in, Petra, after last night. You’d suffered so much.”