“Vestiges can be twisted into something else,” Rose said. “And… I’d have power there?”
“You have power anywhere,” Ms. Lewis said.
“I mean I can have magical ability there.”
“Again, you can have magical ability anywhere, Rose,” Ms. Lewis said. “But that’s not the issue you’re trying to address. Your concern is the here and now. Right now you’re in a world of mirrors, largely powerless. Blake was asking how you could achieve more faculty.”
“And now we know,” I said. “You can go to a place with more people and things to interact with, Rose. I’m not sure you’d want to, given what’s going on over there, but you could.”
“I could,” Rose said.
A short answer, noncommittal.
“So this psycho guy builds up this huge demesnes, converts it into a kind of feeding pen for Others,” I said. “But how do we do the same thing? I’m getting the feeling we’re in dire need of these three big power sources. Tool, familiar, demesnes.”
“You do what you did today,” Ms. Lewis said. “You claim power where you can, then you make a play, using that power. Look at what you’ve accomplished already.”
“An ice-hatchet and a lock of hair,” I said.
“The hair was an interesting choice,” she said. “Why did you choose it?”
“Because I didn’t want to hurt her while she was down, I didn’t want to mess with her clothing because that’s a little creepy, and I don’t want to carry around some broken piece of metal from the sword… there aren’t any other things I could grab.”
“There are a great many other things you could have taken. Many more abstract than the physical things you’re focusing on. But you chose the hair. You said you’d take some power, when you talked to her. Did you break your oath?”
“I… honestly don’t know,” I said. “I said a lot of things, right then.”
“If you lie,” Ms. Lewis said, “You’ll suffer for it. You’re already drained.”
But she said it with a small smile. As if she already knew the answer.
“I don’t think I lied,” I said. “I didn’t feel like my vision got that much worse between when the fight started and when we dropped off the letter. When I said that stuff, I spoke from the heart. No deception, being direct, being blunt, like you said.”
The smile widened a small fraction. “And?”
“And… I said I’d take power. I thought, taking the hair, well, if a Faerie uses glamour all over the place, where are they going to use it more than in their personal appearance?”
“You thought all that through?” she asked.
“No. I barely thought. I was focused more on the fact I’d just puked, and barely being able to stand. I mean, my actions make sense to me, looking back, but it wasn’t a big thing where I outlined it to myself step-by-step.”
“Well, your instincts were good. Some Faerie give tokens to their favored humans and practitioners. Little objects, trinkets, scraps of cloth. Objects infused with glamour. These objects carry a kind of charge, an influence. A coin infused with a glamour that it’s lucky. An earring that’s infused with another sort of glamour, granting an ability.”
“And the lock of hair?” I asked.
“Is only a lock of hair, infused with a small glamour to keep it lustrous and pretty. But it’s infused with glamour, nonetheless. In the old stories, there are tales of people given gifts, to use at certain times. Throw this hairbrush down, and it becomes a forest of trees. Throw this ribbon down, and it becomes a river. One big glamour, expending an item.”
“This is the same thing?” I asked.
“It can be either. A simple object with a simple benefit, or a charge of glamour to be spent. Whatever you do with it, you’ll want to cultivate it. Give it your attention, make it a part of your routine, and it will gradually get stronger. Be careful, however, that you don’t get used to it. Glamour is innately elusive, subtle, and misleading, images striving to slip from the conscious attention to the unconscious attention. There is a reason we don’t have troves of these infused objects lying about. In the majority of cases, they become a part of the scenery and routine, they lose importance, and they seize on that to become unimportant. The fortunate coin is unfortunately lost, you see.”
“You said everything has a cost,” I said. “What’s the cost, here?”
“A very good question,” Ms. Lewis said. “Tell me, how does it go in the stories? A woman gets the favor of a family of brownies, provided she rubs ointment on the brownie child’s eyes once a night. She’s warned she should never use it on herself, but she does, and she gains the ability to see the brownies as they go about their business in the city. She is discovered, and as punishment, they strike her blind.”
“Ironic punishment,’ Rose said. “Karma.”
“The universe seeks balance, and it can be heavy handed. You might earn the earring that gives you an uncanny ability to listen, and this is tolerable, because you earned it. But when the earring is lost, balance is restored, and-”
“You might go deaf,” I said. “Or you could lose the ability to hear kind words, or you could get the ears of an ass and your ass-ears can’t understand everyone’s mocking whisperings behind your back. I think I get the drift.”
“You do. Think of what you’re willing to lose before you turn that lock of hair to a purpose. Should you misuse it or treat this little thing of power poorly, you’ll pay a price equal to what you gained. But for the time being, I recommend you take time for it.”
“If nothing else, it’s a hair grenade,” I said. “Pull the pin, throw it, make a spiderweb or something.”
“I don’t think it’s a suitable thing for fighting,” Ms. Lewis said. “You won’t get as much effect out of it there. It could even backfire. Keep in mind that it was and is hair, and it lends itself to similar purpose.”
“Right,” I said. Hair’s purpose?
We were approaching Hillsglade House. Only a few minutes away, now.
“Where do I go looking, for a familiar?” I asked.
“Where do you go looking for a date?” Ms. Lewis asked me. “You’re looking to make a long-term commitment. You don’t leap into it, you put yourself out there, in the sort of place that you might ordinarily like to spend your time, doing what you do best, or doing what you enjoy most. You introduce yourself to those of similar interests. Get to know them. See how compatible you are. Only after some time do you make the investment.”
“That kid just now found a familiar at thirteen or so,” I said.
It was Rose who answered me, not Ms. Lewis. “Arranged marriages exist even today. Even in Canada, they’re happening. Not so hard to believe a family would set something up with familiars, given how backwards this community seems.”
“Exactly,” Ms. Lewis said.
“Okay, then forget familiars. Implement? I mean, we read the books on this stuff, but-”
“But you’re lost. The implement requires a more intimate knowledge of yourself. Who are you, and how do you address the rest of the world? Some people find this an easy decision to make. They know they are warriors at heart, or thinkers. For others, it’s a very nuanced choice. A small few rush into it, and they find they’ve crippled themselves.”