Read Online (A Charm of Magpies 1)The Magpie Lord by Kj Charles - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kj Charles
Ads: Link
me how anyone who eats as much as you stays so thin.”
“I know, I know,” Day said. “I’m eating like a, a—”
“Starving vulture.”
“Thank you. Yes. It’s the house. I’m used to much more lively environments.”
“Aren’t we all?”
“In terms of power, I mean. I can’t draw on any etheric flow, any power in the house, which means I’m stripping myself every time I do anything. Which is to say, burning energy from within myself. As you do when you take physical exercise, but more so.”
“Is that safe?”
“Oh yes, as long as you have plenty to eat and drink. If you don’t, or you try to do too much, it burns fat and then muscle, and eventually bone and brain and skin.” They reached the side of the Rose Walk and, in unspoken concord, turned to walk alongside it. “I stripped myself to the bone last winter,” Day went on, “and very unpleasant it was too. I’m still recovering from that, actually.”
Convalescent , thought Crane. That explained a lot. He bit back an absurd urge to ask if Day really ought to be working. “What were you doing last winter?”
“Hunting a murderer. On Romney Marshes, which is an etheric sinkhole—nothing to draw on, worse than here. I spent twelve of the nastiest hours of my life playing tag with a killer, around a marsh, in the dark, on my own, trying not to die.”
“Did you catch him? Was he one of you, a practitioner?”
“A warlock. And yes, I found him. I stripped myself well beyond anything I’d have chanced if I hadn’t been fighting for my life. I woke up looking like something out of the Egyptian Room at the British Museum, and weighing about five stone. I couldn’t walk for a month. Lost all my hair. It was vile.”
“So who won?” Crane said. “It doesn’t sound like it was you.” They had reached the end of the Rose Walk. Day peered down it, crossed the end and led the way down the other side, still outside it.
“No, I won,” he said. “I woke up.”
Crane whistled. “I thought I had an adventurous life. Pitched magical battles on Romney Marshes…”
“Have absolutely nothing to recommend them.”
They paced on.
“What’s etheric flow?”
“The ether is…a kind of energy that runs through everything. Through the air, through living things, in greater or lesser quantities. It carries, well, magic.”
“Like ch’i ?”
“Like what?”
“ Ch’i . Life force. A sort of energy flow that permeates everything and links the world together.”
“Yes! Exactly. Is that Chinese? Did you learn that from your shaman?”
“It’s a basic principle of Chinese culture.” Crane watched Day’s face with amusement. “Really. Children learn about it. It’s part of medicine. It’s completely normal, everyone knows it exists.”
“Really? So…” They had reached the other end of the Rose Walk, which opened up into an overgrown lawn with a statueless stone plinth at its centre. Day glanced down the passage. “That’s fascinating and I’d love to know more, but I think I need to go in if I’m to have a chance of seeing anything. You don’t have to.”
“We established that I do,” Crane said mildly. “Can we talk while we wait for visitations?”
“Let’s walk the ground,” Day suggested. “Speak up if you feel anything uncomfortable or strange. It’s entirely possible that nothing whatsoever will happen and we’ll just stay out here getting cold.”
Feet echoed on stone as they paced down the dark walk, Crane limiting his long stride to the shorter man’s, skin tingling as he listened for whatever there might be to hear. He felt a quiver of nerves as his sleeve snagged on something, and laughed at himself for a fool almost at once as he brushed away the tendrils of rose.
Day’s face was sharp and intent in the moonlight, hands out, fingers moving gently, like a pianist imagining music. Crane paced by his side, turned when he turned, and took a breath when he relaxed.
“Absolutely nothing,” Day
“I know, I know,” Day said. “I’m eating like a, a—”
“Starving vulture.”
“Thank you. Yes. It’s the house. I’m used to much more lively environments.”
“Aren’t we all?”
“In terms of power, I mean. I can’t draw on any etheric flow, any power in the house, which means I’m stripping myself every time I do anything. Which is to say, burning energy from within myself. As you do when you take physical exercise, but more so.”
“Is that safe?”
“Oh yes, as long as you have plenty to eat and drink. If you don’t, or you try to do too much, it burns fat and then muscle, and eventually bone and brain and skin.” They reached the side of the Rose Walk and, in unspoken concord, turned to walk alongside it. “I stripped myself to the bone last winter,” Day went on, “and very unpleasant it was too. I’m still recovering from that, actually.”
Convalescent , thought Crane. That explained a lot. He bit back an absurd urge to ask if Day really ought to be working. “What were you doing last winter?”
“Hunting a murderer. On Romney Marshes, which is an etheric sinkhole—nothing to draw on, worse than here. I spent twelve of the nastiest hours of my life playing tag with a killer, around a marsh, in the dark, on my own, trying not to die.”
“Did you catch him? Was he one of you, a practitioner?”
“A warlock. And yes, I found him. I stripped myself well beyond anything I’d have chanced if I hadn’t been fighting for my life. I woke up looking like something out of the Egyptian Room at the British Museum, and weighing about five stone. I couldn’t walk for a month. Lost all my hair. It was vile.”
“So who won?” Crane said. “It doesn’t sound like it was you.” They had reached the end of the Rose Walk. Day peered down it, crossed the end and led the way down the other side, still outside it.
“No, I won,” he said. “I woke up.”
Crane whistled. “I thought I had an adventurous life. Pitched magical battles on Romney Marshes…”
“Have absolutely nothing to recommend them.”
They paced on.
“What’s etheric flow?”
“The ether is…a kind of energy that runs through everything. Through the air, through living things, in greater or lesser quantities. It carries, well, magic.”
“Like ch’i ?”
“Like what?”
“ Ch’i . Life force. A sort of energy flow that permeates everything and links the world together.”
“Yes! Exactly. Is that Chinese? Did you learn that from your shaman?”
“It’s a basic principle of Chinese culture.” Crane watched Day’s face with amusement. “Really. Children learn about it. It’s part of medicine. It’s completely normal, everyone knows it exists.”
“Really? So…” They had reached the other end of the Rose Walk, which opened up into an overgrown lawn with a statueless stone plinth at its centre. Day glanced down the passage. “That’s fascinating and I’d love to know more, but I think I need to go in if I’m to have a chance of seeing anything. You don’t have to.”
“We established that I do,” Crane said mildly. “Can we talk while we wait for visitations?”
“Let’s walk the ground,” Day suggested. “Speak up if you feel anything uncomfortable or strange. It’s entirely possible that nothing whatsoever will happen and we’ll just stay out here getting cold.”
Feet echoed on stone as they paced down the dark walk, Crane limiting his long stride to the shorter man’s, skin tingling as he listened for whatever there might be to hear. He felt a quiver of nerves as his sleeve snagged on something, and laughed at himself for a fool almost at once as he brushed away the tendrils of rose.
Day’s face was sharp and intent in the moonlight, hands out, fingers moving gently, like a pianist imagining music. Crane paced by his side, turned when he turned, and took a breath when he relaxed.
“Absolutely nothing,” Day
Similar Books
