Page 19 of Apt to be Suspicious
“Sit, sit. I’ll have you know that Benton and I had a minor duel of magic to determine which of us would turn up. I might have cheated slightly. Also, I pointed out that he was far more useful in making sure tonight’s supper ran smoothly than I was.” It was gently teasing. “If supper is too much, you may have a tray in your room, of course. But I thought I might help.”
Edmund did not know what to say to that. Not least because his linguistic skills had been tested so thoroughly the last week he didn’t know whether he was coming or going or which language he was speaking.
Uncle Alexander came over, then— even more startling— knelt down. One knee on the ground, one foot bent. Then he placed his hands out, palms down. Edmund shook his head instinctively.
“Edmund.” Now, Uncle Alexander’s voice was very gentle. “Your father is the one who taught me how to accept help. Hands, please.”
He could have made it an order. Edmund was his apprentice, even before they got into the fact that Uncle Alexander was a master of Naming magic, and certainly knew every form of Edmund’s names. Slowly, Edmund raised his own hands, palm up, skin to skin.
As soon as they touched, he could feel Uncle Alexander’s vitality pouring down, a cascade like a river in full spring rush. Not flood, it was not uncontrolled. But it was energetic, fiercely so, full of the coming spring and the promise of summer. And all of it was falling into Edmund, filling up a vast empty lake.
Edmund felt himself shudder, not quite able to keep himself sitting properly straight on the sofa. Uncle Alexander’s hands followed his, as Edmund leaned back, then pressed Edmund’s hands down to rest on his thighs until the vitality tailed off gently. It had a softness to it in the last moments, like honey falling off the spoon.
The touch went away, but before Edmund could really focus, Uncle Alexander was standing up, offering a small green vial. “Drink that. Good for what ails you. Specifically you. Cephus and Bertram had apparently had rather a good time figuring out what would be best today.” That reference to Papa’s pet alchemists made Edmund smile. He managed to lift the bottle in acknowledgement before draining it in three gulps.
Edmund could feel it flow through him. The vitality had done a great deal, but this added something in all the little crannies and corners, smoothing out the way he’d been pressing himself for the last weeks. “They even made it taste good.” That was a wonder, especially right now, half the ingredients that didn’t taste bitter were in short supply. It didn’t even taste green, like he’d expected. He was sure nettles were in there somewhere. They were a common base in restoratives. Instead, it almost had a hint of lemon.
“That’s Bertram’s doing. You’ve won him a bet.” Uncle Alexander settled down on the chair, though leaning forward attentively. “I realise the hypocrisy of this statement, but you do not need to do everything yourself.” Edmund was restored enough that the way Uncle Alexander put that made him snort. His uncle went on, ignoring the sound. “I’ve a carter coming in an hour. I am vastly experienced at packing, including other people’s things. I will even promise you, as one of my favourite nephews, that I will not ask prying questions about your bits and bobs.”
“First, there’s only the two of us you might say that to. And second, you might not ask but you’d be thinking them. No, thank you. Give me a minute, and I’ll do the last part. I don’t have much left.”
“There, you are feeling better. Do you need something to eat?”
Edmund shook his head. “There’s not much here, and I ate lunch.” He was fairly sure he’d eaten lunch. Yes. There’d been an arrangement with one of the local restaurants. He didn’t remember the food, but he was sure there’d been some.
Uncle Alexander did not press the point. “In that case, would you prefer to chat for a few minutes before you finish your packing, or sit in silence? Or you have a gramophone, I could put something on.”
“No. Is there a topic you’d like to discuss at the moment? I’m sure I can’t propose anything other than translation choices.”
“And you have had plenty of those this week.” Uncle Alexander leaned back, more relaxed now. “Do you want to talk about the exams at all, or leave it be until you have the results?”
Edmund’s shoulder twitched. “I think I did well enough. Some of it, I think it’s going to depend on how they mark. I did a fair bit more of making connections to other languages than I was supposed to, and you know how that gets some people’s hackles up.”
“Oh, I do, yes. Some can’t abide not being the smartest person in the room, or that others know things they do not. And yet, the exam deserves and expects your best.” Uncle Alexander paused. “And the rest of it?”
“There’s no excuse for being this tired. Not that I don’t appreciate your help, Uncle Alexander. Thank you. For all of it, the vitality and thinking about the potion, and being here.” That was a horrific bit of rhetorical framing. It was as if Edmund were six again. “I didn’t wish to put anyone out. It was only exams, nothing…” Edmund trailed off.
“Finish the sentence, please.” This too, was not an order Edmund could evade, even if he’d had the wits for it. Uncle Alexander had swapped instantly into teaching mode, or rather a particular form of teaching. There must be honesty, it seemed.
“I kept telling myself before this week that I’d done far worse. Twenty-hour days, assisting Major Manse. Less of course than the men in combat, or the women. Less than many people.”
“On the one hand, yes, it is arguably true that Honour Mods are not the same as being at war. And I will grant that you were not interrupted by air raids or worse, which is a further point in your addition. But that does not mean this was not a substantial trial.”
“It was taking an exam.” Edmund swallowed, then tacked on, “Sir.” He never called Uncle Alexander that, unless they were making a point in public, but here and now, it seemed the right word. “Three hours, twice over, sitting down, writing things I ought to know by heart.”
Uncle Alexander nodded. “And you have taken it. Leaving aside the question of how you did, you have done something I did not do. Something your father did not do, or Giles Lefton, or Lapidoth Manse.” He went on, not leaving space for Edmund to comment. “It is not perhaps the most difficult exam in history. We might leave the Imperial Chinese exams at that pinnacle. But it is a process that makes the most gifted academics of our own time quail. It is not merely the range of texts, of course, or the schedule and structure, but the entirety of it.” Now, his voice got softer. “You have risen to a challenge, and you have done your best. I wish you to understand that this is every much as notable an achievement as all you did in the war, or all Geoffrey or Benton or Giles or I did.”
Edmund did not have an answer for that. He wasn’t sure how anyone could. Uncle Alexander was being far more forthcoming than usual, putting into words what he rarely discussed. But Edmund knew— down to his bones— that they were true. Both because Uncle Alexander wouldn’t lie to him, and because the various restoratives had made his magic hum quietly again.
Now, he chose his words carefully. “And you’re using Naming to make your point. Sir.” This time, it had a hint of a teasing note to it. “Another examination?”
“A check, shall we say, on your recovery.” Uncle Alexander leaned back in his chair, folding his hands. “Well done. Not that I had any doubts. Hearing that thread of, what will you call it? That is an excellent skill to have.”
“Truth. Or at least, that’s a good enough short word? Something about how the nouns, the names, in what you’re saying align with a thread that connects them. I noticed it, erm. Tuesday? Wednesday.” The days had blurred together. That wasn’t like him.
“The way things flow, yes. That’s a knack that you have to come to yourself. You are, I will say out loud and clearly, making excellent progress there as well. I think this coming term we might work up to figuring out if people are using an alternate name. Perhaps with a goal of a bit of an examination when you visit Lap at the end of Trinity term.”
“There being a profusion of people in those offices who use names other than those they began their lives with.” Edmund tilted his head. “Bertram Hofler as well?”
