Page 27 of Salt Magic, Skin Magic
“So, sneaking around and using that voice on people, and looking through other men’s things is all right, is it? But thrashing a damned bully would be wrong?”
“It’s witchcraft, Thornby. I won’t do it. For the same reason you haven’t broken into his room and attacked him in his sleep.”
“I’m not asking you to murder him, for God’s sake! Just to force him—I don’t know. Scare him. Whatever you feel isn’t beneath you.”
“He’s cursed. Did you remember that? Whether your mother did it, or whether it’s just happened due to the circumstances, I don’t know, but—”
“And that excuses him, does it? He can ruin the family and run the place into the ground and do whatever the hell he likes to all of us because he’s cursed?”
“It’s driving him. It makes him dangerous and unpredictable. If I did as you ask, if I frightened him—say I told his bedroom furniture to fly about the room next time he’s in it—and then I went in and said I’d only stop it if he let you go—do you think he’d do it? Do you really think so? I wouldn’t like to bet on it myself. I think he’d lash out. Probably at you. We don’t know how he’s doing what he’s doing. Can’t you see it’s too dangerous?”
“So, you’re scared of him,” Thornby said, contemptuously, and had the satisfaction of seeing a spark of anger light up in Blake’s dark eyes.
“Don’t mistake me for some street entertainer because all you’ve seen so far are a few tricks. But there’s a curse involved that comes from that other place. And in any case, as I’ve said, frightening people with magic into doing what you want is witchcraft.”
“So, stop short of hurting him. But there must be—”
“Would you like me to trap him somewhere, maybe? To keep him somewhere until he does as I wish? Is that what you want me to do, to be like him?”
Blake’s turned-down mouth had gone beyond grim to decidedly forbidding. He shifted his stance, as if leaning into the argument. Thornby drew himself up too, welcoming the rage that was washing over him. His fists were itching to hit something. To finally have someone to lash out at. To banish helplessness with a punch and see the result bleeding in front of him. Father had a way of making himself impregnable, of retreating behind his title and his mysterious power until it was impossible to do anything.
But Blake—
One could touch a man like Blake. One could hit him. One could hurt him.
“It sounds like justice to me,” Thornby said scornfully. “Would you be brave enough to do it, if I ordered it?”
“It’s not a question of bravery. I damned well won’t do it,” Blake snapped. “I know you’re used to people doing as you say, but you can’t order me around, so you can stop trying.”
They glared at each other. Thornby was one trembling breath from hitting him, when Blake’s expression suddenly softened. He took a step back and relaxed his shoulders, raising his hands in a conciliatory gesture.
“Thornby, let’s not quarrel. It won’t help. Look, at the moment he suspects nothing, so we’ve got free rein to look about. It’s better to be subtle, isn’t it?”
So, he wouldn’t fight. He wouldn’t give the satisfaction. But there was something in his voice, some tenderness, some question, that left him wide open. The urge to hurt him shifted focus. But at the same time Thornby remembered how the argument had started. Mother, not human. And the world seemed again to lurch beneath his feet. Every certainty, every belief, every idea he’d ever had about himself seemed to be crumbling away like ash.
“So, my mother was a fairy, was she? That’s what you’re saying, you know. Do you know what a fool you sound?” His voice was thin, but it was perfectly under control.
“I know how it sounds. Until last night I wouldn’t have believed it myself.”
“And what does that make me? You’re a lunatic. I don’t know why I thought you could help me. You may as well go back to London. Although I quite like your idea about attacking him in his sleep. Perhaps you’ll leave your marvellous key behind when you go? Good day, Mr Blake. Since you’re not interested, I’ve got cowslips to suck.”
He turned on his heel and walked away. He had no idea where he was going, but wherever it was, it was as far as possible from the ridiculous Mr Blake and his preposterous ideas.
