“It matters for you too,” Ms. Lewis said. “For the time being, you are connected to Blake. Tell me, Blake, did you feel weaker? More vulnerable?”
“I felt tired,” I said. “I wondered for a moment if Rose had done something.”
“A vestige is fragile. Defy the natural order, and the vestige suffers.”
“And a damaged vestige drains energy,” I said, glancing at Rose.
“Just so.”
“I’d kind of expected a… clap of thunder?” I said.
“Barring the exceptional moments of idiocy, such as the breaking of an oath, you typically only discover what you’ve done when you reach for power and find it gone.”
“So stupid of us,” Rose said.
Ms. Lewis smiled and shook her head. “I will keep the ghost contained. To do otherwise would put a client at risk. May I?”
She extended a hand.
I handed the hatchet over. She didn’t flinch as the handle touched her hand.
“You’ve worked with tools before,” she said.
“Hm?”
“Your hands have that look about them, and you handed the hatchet to me handle first. It’s the sort of thing you learn on the job, or you’re taught it as a matter of course, becoming a gentleman.”
“Blake, not a gentleman?” Rose asked.
“That is the sort of sarcasm you can get away with,” Ms. Lewis said. “A gentleman would have offered guests something to drink. As would a lady, Ms. Thorburn. Shall we go see to your errands? I can attend to this tool in the meantime.”
A little unsure, I still nodded.
She’d left a winter coat folded over a chair in the front hallway. She draped it over her shoulders without putting her arms through the sleeves.
I, for my part, did what I could to warm my hands by rubbing them against one another, before we stepped outside.
“Ground rules,” Ms. Lewis said. “This isn’t business. Anything I say or do should be taken in the capacity of an acquaintance or teacher. I won’t give you answers I think you should pay for”
“I understand,” I said.
“Good response,” she said. “Not committing to anything. All that said, I’d like to help you if I see the chance.”
“Somehow I anticipated you guys would be scarier,” I said. “Or, and I hope I’m not being offensive, more professional.”
“We adapt to the client,” she said. She didn’t flinch at the cold as we made our way down the driveway. Something a little more Other about her, like the old man’s laugh.
“You’re being awfully helpful, running this errand with me for no benefit. Or is there something I’m missing?”
“Let’s just say it’s me establishing a relationship with a potential new client.”
“We can say that,” Rose said, speaking from the mirror I wore in the open ‘v’ of my jacket collar, “But what is it really?”
“It’s largely selfish,” Ms. Lewis said. She drew in a deep breath, then sighed. “As clients go, you’re quite endearing, compared to our usual.”
She withdrew a spool from an inside pocket of her jacket. Thin silver wire. “And this is not something I usually get to do, in the course of my duties. Nostalgic.”
Ms. Lewis unwound the wire, then began winding it loosely around the foam handle as she walked.
“Who are your regular clients?” Rose asked.
“They vary, and they are confidential,” Ms. Lewis said. “Speaking in general terms, a rare few are like your grandmother. A great many aren’t.”
“And what are they like?” I asked.
“You’ve met the barber. They are the sorts who would use him and sleep that night.”
“Ah,” I said. “You’re using your sight to see the connection between me and it?”
“Yes. I would recommend using it more. Try it now?”
I switched to my sight. The connections weren’t very clear.
“Look to your three o’clock without turning your head,” she said.
I did.
Something that might have been a raccoon scampered down from the top of the garage to the far side. It probably wasn’t a raccoon.
“It’s gone,” I said.
“It’s there, it’s just out of sight. Keep looking.”
I did. I searched for the connection, but I couldn’t make out much. The world was buried under a haze, and the wind was blowing in too many directions at once.
“Trace your eyes along the paths that things run in parallel, the straightest lines. Good place to start, and good places to avoid if you think someone’s searching for you.”
I looked harder. The saturation and contrast seemed exaggerated, the world painted in a impasto style with coarse brush strokes, animated with life and constant motion. I followed the areas where the strokes and lines met, so I could see the flow of it, not stopping at a dead end but naturally sweeping my eyes along the straighter paths where the particles danced.
I caught it a second or two faster than I might have if I wasn’t already focused on the area. It looked like the slop that you dug out of a gutter after a rain. Leaves, branches, twigs, and a bit or two of trash. There were only shadows where eyes were supposed to be, and a few pieces of stone, some teeth, and a bird’s beak where it was supposed to have teeth.
It stopped in its tracks, seemingly startled, as if my vision had transfixed it.
A moment later, it bolted, disappearing around the corner at edge of Hillsglade House.
“You looked too hard,” she said. “You made a connection, and it noticed. A lesser elemental. Now keep looking. Softer. Relax, and try to see where the longest lines are. If you don’t focus too hard, it’s easier to see them.”
I looked, relaxing my focus on the spirits.
It very deliberately avoided the railing of the fence as it perched on the stone of the wall, glancing my way. It seemed bothered that I’d spotted it again. Leaves and twigs stood up like an irritated cat or a dog with the hackles up.
My eye traveled over the splash of minor spirits that danced around it, seeking out the areas where they were traveling in the straightest lines.
One, blocked by the house. I eyeballed it, figured out the direction, found it on the other side of the house, faint, disappearing into the woods and glades.
The Briar Girl, I thought. The Others I’d seen before June showed up… I suspected they were hers.
“She wants your attention, and very possibly wants your help.”
“You know her?” I asked, looking at Ms. Lewis.
“No. But I can tell. What does she want?”
“The woods and marshes.”
“She can’t have the woods and marshes, Mr. Thorburn. She’ll be upset when you tell her.”
“Probably,” I said.
She took a moment to wind the wire around, hooking it through one loop, then adjusting the tightness of each segment in turn. It was biting into the foam grip, but not so much it was ugly or unnatural. The end result was more like something between a Celtic knot and a chain-link fence.
“You’ll have some confrontations soon. You’ll need to be stronger.”
“I know,” I said.
“Are you aware enough to know you’re in danger right now?”
I raised an eyebrow.
“How? Who?” Rose asked.
“A car, behind us. Ignore it. We’ll take an alley the car can’t pass through, forcing them to circle around. We can stop partway, forcing them to turn around again or stop and wait for us to emerge. We’ll decide what we do then.”