It was the desperation before the call that plagued me now: if the swords and spears of the Roman Empire could drive people to such lengths, how much worse the threat of absolute destruction? What might the people of Hiroshima have called to avenge their memory, if they had known what was coming?
That day, Dawson confirmed that one Daniel Upton, an architect, had been institutionalized following a murderous scandal in the mid-’20s. She had not yet managed to identify the asylum, but there were few in the area that would have made appropriate oubliettes for the son of a respectable family. She would soon find our quarry—assuming he was still alive—and I considered what I ought to say to him. It seemed an awkward situation, and a small scrap to offer Spector.
So just as I had been grateful for the respite of our day at Miskatonic, I was now grateful for the trip to Hall that would give me additional time to plan for meeting Upton. For what I ought to do, if he were still sane.
Mid-morning there came a knock on the door to our reading room. Expecting Asenath’s old friend, I got up to answer it, and was surprised to find Audrey Winslow waiting nervously outside.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m sorry to bother you when you’re working. I heard you were here. I could help if you like.”
“I don’t think—not unless you read Russian, I’m afraid.”
“Oh. No. Mr. Barinov taught me how to write my name, that’s all.” She peered over my shoulder at the others, still engrossed in their texts.
I put on my best voice for confused customers. “Miss Winslow. How can I help you?”
“Oh.” She craned her neck further to look at the others, looked at me again, took a deep breath. Then she curtseyed somewhat awkwardly and dropped her voice. “Miss Marsh. I wish to serve you, and learn at your feet as your apprentice. If you’ll have me. I’m smart, I do well at school, I’m the fastest reader in our group, and I’ve even managed to make spells work a couple of times, almost, little ones, but I know I could do it!” This last said with a defiant air, eyes still downcast. “I would serve you willingly and absolutely, I only wish to join your”—her eyes flicked up and past me—“retinue.”
I could only stare. I heard rustling behind me, and Caleb whispering something snide to Dawson. At last I found my voice, strained with shock. “You have me mistaken. Where did you get the idea that I have a retinue? Or take servants?”
“Jesse said he went to the chapel and found you leading a service before the altar, with your brother serving behind you. That you were speaking of deep secrets, and dismissed him from your presence. And everyone in our group knows a little about the Cult of Dagon. He said you were a high priestess.”
I ignored the choked sound from my brother. He could afford to think this funny. “Jesse … Mr. Sadler. Didn’t you say that he likes to make everything seem more mysterious than it is?”
She shrugged. “He uses fancy words. But he usually knows what he’s talking about.”
“And didn’t you say you don’t believe in magic?”
“I don’t think it’s the right word for what we do—for what you do. But I know you can do things with it that aren’t possible any other way. I’ll call it whatever you like, if that’s what it takes to learn.”
I checked over my shoulder. My brother now sat with an innocent, wide-eyed expression. Dawson looked between the two of us, her expression exceedingly dubious. Neko put down her book to watch in fascination. Spector appeared entirely too amused. Trumbull continued reading, blandly.
Charlie came to my rescue. “Miss, I think you’re very confused. And bothering Miss Marsh.”
She curtseyed again. It fit her just as poorly the second time. “I’m terribly sorry if I’ve offended you, miss. My lady? But I do want to learn this, more than anything. I’ll prove myself however you want, take on any task. Please, I beg of you.”
A part of me wanted to slam the door or let Charlie drive her away. But amid her errors and desperation, she had asked a real question. I took a ragged breath. “If you promise to cease bowing and begging and giving me titles I haven’t earned, I will”—I thought on how many witnesses this needed, and whether one of them really had to be my brother—“go for a walk with you. Charlie, if you can spare a few minutes, I’d appreciate the company.”
As he rose I realized that he was still using the cane, and the sidewalks were still slippery. “I beg your pardon, I ought not to have asked. Maybe…”
“No,” he said. “I’ll be fine.” And there was no way to gainsay him without injuring his pride. I would go slowly.
“Sister dear—” started Caleb. I did the only thing I could think of to short-circuit the act, which was to stick out my tongue at him. He laughed and let be.
We made our way cautiously out into the cold. I was grateful to see a bench nearby, and led the way to it. I swept away the patches of snow on the seat, and took a wet spot for myself.
“We don’t really need to walk,” I apologized. “I just didn’t want the others staring.”
Audrey’s eyes darted between us. “All right. I’m not bowing.” She lit a cigarette and took a defiant drag.
Charlie frowned fiercely, and I took strength from his protectiveness. “Thank you. I appreciate that. I’m sorry that Mr. Sadler gave you the wrong impression, but I’m really not a high priestess. The people with me—some of them are friends, and some are family, and some are studying the same material for their own purposes. Mr. Day is my student, but he isn’t my servant. I work for him. At his bookstore. We help each other learn; I don’t know much more than he does. I’m sorry.” I held back any further apologies for not being that which I did not wish to be.
“But you do teach. Magic.”
“I learn magic. And he learns alongside me.”
“I would learn. Regardless of what you call it.”
I heard in Charlie’s silence that he was, like me, unwilling to simply dismiss her. He knew too well what it was to yearn so strongly.
I trailed my hand through the snow on the back of the bench, and composed myself. I asked the traditional question, which had no traditional answer: “Why do you wish to learn?”
“Power,” she said simply. She put the cigarette to her lips.
“Ah.” Charlie knew this one. I nodded at him.
“Magic isn’t for power,” he said. “That’s the first thing Miss Marsh taught me. If our studies brought power, I wouldn’t need this.” He tapped the cane on the ground for emphasis.
“And I would still have … more family than I do now,” I said.
She looked between the two of us. Now that she had determined not to cringe before me, her eyes grew colder. “Do you remember what I told you the other day? About Innsmouth girls?”
I thought back to our conversation. “That we know what we want.”
“And you go after it. I’m sorry for whatever happened to your family. I can guess from some of the rumors. I don’t expect to turn into Superman. I just want a little more control over my own life. Everyone else thinks that’s unreasonable; do you?”
“No. I’m just not sure magic is the best way to go about it.”