The Threads of Magic Alison Croggon (warren buffett book recommendations TXT) 📖
- Author: Alison Croggon
Book online «The Threads of Magic Alison Croggon (warren buffett book recommendations TXT) 📖». Author Alison Croggon
“Oni, I don’t feel good,” said El. “It’s bad here. I can’t breathe . . .”
“Hold hands so we don’t lose each other,” said Oni. “Quickly. Come on.”
It was hard to move quickly. Oni led them through the undergrowth, avoiding open spaces. At first the Heart was so cold against Pip’s hip that it hurt his skin, but the farther they moved from the Old Palace, the warmer it became. He felt sure they were going in circles, but at last they found the fence and, after a little difficulty, the hole in the railings. Oni pushed them through the gap and into the street.
“Now,” she said. “Walk normal, like we’re just out for a bit of air.”
“I don’t think El can walk normal, Oni,” said Pip, pulling at her elbow. “I think she’s going to have one of her turns.”
Even in the dim light, you could see that El was very pale. She was gasping for air, and her lips were a bluish color.
“El, we got to move on from here,” said Oni. “Do you think you can?”
El nodded slowly.
“Could you do some magic on her?” asked Pip, trying to hide his anxiety. El’s turns could be frightening, and they didn’t have Missus Pledge’s medicines, which were back in their apartment.
“I haven’t got the right things,” said Oni. She studied El’s face and then put her palm on El’s chest, which was heaving with the effort of trying to breathe. “El, please don’t panic. It makes it worse.”
El didn’t have the breath to answer. Oni shut her eyes, pressing lightly on El’s chest. To Pip’s surprise, after a few moments the touch seemed to make a difference. The horrible wheezing noise abated, and El was able to stand up.
“I’m. All right,” said El. “Not good. But. All right.”
They walked away from the Old Palace, trying to look like a group of friends out for a stroll in the balmy evening. Oni headed toward the yellow lamps of the night markets nearby, which were busy with people buying food for Midsummer Day. The Midsummer Festival was a big holiday in Clarel, and like most people they knew, Pip and El had been planning to go to the Weavers’ Quarter to join in the dancing. That seemed ages ago. Pip reflected gloomily that they wouldn’t be dancing this year, for sure.
All the same, he felt a little safer in a crowd. He turned to Oni. “You got to tell us what happened there,” he said.
“They took Ma,” she said, and he heard the tremble in her voice.
“They what? Who?”
“They were from the Office for Witchcraft Extermination. Where assassins come from. They asked about me, and then they wanted to know about you two. And when she said she didn’t know what they were talking about, they said she had to come with them. And when she told them they were mistaken, they threatened her.”
“Oh, Oni!” El’s chest began to heave again, and Pip looked at her in concern. “I’m so sorry. It’s all because of us . . .”
“It can’t be helped now.” Oni set her jaw so she wouldn’t cry. “She told me to run, and that was it.”
“But where can we run to?” El asked. “We can’t go home. We can’t go to your place . . .”
Pip was frowning. “She told you to run? When?”
Oni opened her hand. On the ball of her thumb there was a faint, oddly shaped red scratch.
“It says ‘Run.’”
El touched the mark with the tip of her finger, and even as she did, it faded altogether. “Is that a word, Oni? Couldn’t she send other words, if she sent that one?”
“It was risky for her to even do that,” said Oni. Now they could tell she was trying very hard not to cry. “They know to look for witchmarks. Maybe they’ll burn her.”
“They wouldn’t do that, would they?”
“I don’t know.” Oni shook herself, and when she spoke again, her voice was hard, under control. “We can’t talk here. We have to keep going.”
They threaded through the crowd. As far as Pip could tell, nobody was looking at them. The Heart was cool against his skin. Why hadn’t it rescued Amina, like it had rescued Oni? And what could they do now? He was in a part of the city that was outside his own territory, and that made him as nervous as anything else. He didn’t have any secret bolt-holes here.
“Where can we go, Oni?”
“We’re going to a safe house. To Missus Orphint,” said Oni. Her first impulse had been to go to her aunt’s house in the Weavers’ Quarter, but that meant going through the Choke Alleys, and she wanted to avoid anywhere near Pip and El’s apartment.
“Who’s Missus Orphint?”
“You’ll see.”
“I just want to sit down,” said El. “I’m so tired.”
“We can’t rest yet, Ellie,” said Pip, taking her hand. “But we will, I promise.”
Oni was surprised by the tenderness in Pip’s voice. She hadn’t seen this side of him before. She held El’s other hand, pressing it reassuringly. “It’s a bit of a way,” she said. “But we don’t need to hurry now.” Much, she added mentally.
She didn’t mention that a storm was coming. They could all sense it.
Missus Orphint lived a couple of miles away, near the Brein, one of the Five Rivers. Oni prayed that they’d make it before the rain came down. El was concentrating on trying to breathe, and Pip was distracted. He was feeling disturbed about the Heart.
When he had taken El’s hand, the Heart had gone cold again, so suddenly and sharply that it was like it bit him. Like it was jealous.
He was trying to put together the little he knew about the Heart. It was what was left of a little boy called Clovis, who was a prince. Probably a spoiled, bratty, selfish kid, who was used to having servants to wipe his arse for him. And he didn’t like it when Pip felt warm toward El. Pip
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