Saccharine gave way to a murky, clouded greenish gray called Bog. On the surface it was about midday. At her request, Goldy led her back to the navy bricked building on Glocken Street. It was time to see how things were going above.
A smattering of mages were seated around the wooden table. Qafiya was notably absent.
Suli was dressed in her simple, clean dress, as she had on the surface, whereas mor Magus was adorned to the full extravagance his status demanded. Brilliant drops of blue---was it sapphire?---hung from his earlobes.
There were two stacks of papers before her. One was larger and neater, while the other was thinner and disorderly. Orithin scribbled something in a flourish, added it to the messy pile, then Suli handed him another sheaf from the neat pile.
"Goldy and sor Fiona are here," she announced to her master. He looked up at them, then back down to his papers.
"Spending my hard-earned copury left and right, are you?" he said severely.
Goldy casually stepped away from Fiona.
"It's---for research," she said, feeling her insides shrivel a little. She had not been expecting him to track her every expense. From the hostile looks the other mages were giving her, it would be foolish to say she had been dress-shopping. She hoped Goldy would keep his mouth shut.
When Orithin looked up again, the corners of his eyes were crinkled in a smile. She breathed a sigh, then took a seat two chairs down from Suli.
He set down his papers and folded his ink-stained hands. "Last night, my men hid your body in Gead. Soldiers have not yet found it but when they do, they will trace your identity back to the boardinghouse. This might take some time, so we may send some help their way. It is our hope that Enjo will catch wind of rumors about a witch being found in the forest and claim the body once it reaches the boardinghouse."
And Enjo and Suli will search my room and happen upon the letter, Fiona thought. She swallowed, tasting acrid bile at the back of her throat. "Enjo and the other children?"
"Wandering the city, looking for you." He glanced at Goldy. "Which Shade is it?"
"Bog."
He stood and laid a hand on Suli's shoulder. "It will soon be time for you to 'search' as well."
Suli withdrew a thin case from within her cloak and flicked it open. From where she was sitting, Fiona could not tell what was inside. She craned her neck as Suli tilted her head back. Her fingers darted from the case to her left eye, then her right. She blinked away tears, and snapped the case closed.
As she did this, Orithin had cleared away the papers and was swirling his bottle of ink. Fiona did not properly see where his papers had gone but they were almost certainly dropped unceremoniously on the floor, as another mage stooped to retrieve them.
It seemed no one other than his ilor was privy to what was happening. When she glanced at Goldy, he shrugged. His expression read something like, He never tells us, either.
She watched with bated breath, as mor Magus uncorked the bottle and deliberately upended it over onto the table. Ink dark as pitch pooled at the center of the table, spilling in every direction. There was commotion as the seated mages yelped and hurried to their feet. In the case of one unfortunate wizard, his chair tipped backwards onto the floor with a crash.
But the ink did not run off the surface of the table. It spread uniformly and stayed enclosed within the confines of a perfect circle.
"Capicum et mori im medio," he said. A ripple began at the center of the ink, moving outwards, its peaks almost like a wave in ocean. Finally, it was calm, leaving behind a layer of ink like glass. Its edges glistened with a myriad of colors as it caught the light. Then the colors formed shapes.
They all leaned closer.
Fiona scratched her head. mor Magus' profile was visible, but from a strange angle. It was as though she were looking up at him from below. As though from the vantage point of a much shorter person.
She slowly turned to Suli, whose eyes were fixed on Orithin. Just as the ink-image showed. What had she put into her eyes?
Orithin clapped his hands, drawing their attention. "This is how we will track Suli on the surface. She will not be able to send us messages, but we will be able to see her."
Podge interjected. "Can we hear her?"
"No, but I believe seeing will grant us more than hearing, in this case. If she needs to, Suli will alert us through the usual way."
Whatever 'the usual way' referred to, it seemed to satisfy the curiosity of the other mages.
But Fiona stared at mor Magus encased in the crystalline surface. Though he was looking at Suli, it was unnerving to feel he was looking straight into her eyes. Surely this involved highly intricate spellwork. The ink was likely mixed with some enhancing agent for power and something to keep it from drying out. Perhaps anhydrinne. But she felt the ink was not the difficult part of this spelling. It was how he had mirrored what Suli saw to the ink-image. If she had a week, she could probably manage it. But Suli would ascend to the surface and the spelling would hold. Any net transference would likely be negligible---such was Orithin's mastery of magic.
She remembered what Goldy had told her about partitioned bindings. He could manage a fifty-part binding. When he brought her to his subterranean dwelling, he had transported them using a spell spoken in silence. His face was unlined and youthful. He did not seem old enough to hold such achievements. He had never said so himself, but he had almost certainly been educated at Amorfixia. The man had undoubtedly been a Master Candidate. The lords of Amorfixia would desire to keep such a mage on retainer.
Something in her pocket suddenly trembled, and she nearly jumped. It was Orithin's modified flit. She had hidden it in one of her pockets. She was able to keep her expression neutral, though it seemed none of the other mages gave her much interest in the first place.
The image within the gloss of the ink shifted as Suli turned towards the door. She gave Orithin a curt nod before leaving.
Fiona sneaked a glance at Orithin, who also caught her gaze and winked. The flit shook once more. One of his hands was tucked into a pocket.
She understood. It was not that he had neglected to include hearing, nor had he been unable to do so. He had omitted it intentionally, so that they could communicate through the cipher. However, Suli had only taught her a handful of words. She had been practicing them, but they were next to useless for this sort of reconnaissance.
Yet the body had been hidden within the dark canopy of Gead. Though she had not been involved in planting it, it was almost exactly what she would have done. The soldiers stationed outside of Gead were not particularly diligent, and it would likely take some time for them to discover her body. Suli would join the search on the surface so as not to draw suspicion to herself, but evidently, Orithin did not expect much else to happen today.
Satisfied, Fiona signaled to Goldy. As they left, mor Magus bid them a cheery wave goodbye.
---
It was past Blushing when she finally returned to Bitter Sway.
"Been busy?" Sway queried with a raised eyebrow. His long violet hair was pulled into a knot at the nape of his neck. "Lots of packages for you." He ducked behind the counter and started to stack boxes upon boxes. "It is long past my bedtime, sor. And I could not simply leave these for anyone to take, now, could I?"
Fiona was quick to apologize, but Sway waved her apologies away.
"No matter. I was waiting for you." He winked. "The small ilor as well. I let her go up to your room, so I'll make it snappy. It may prove useful for your petition." He leaned forwards, balancing his chin on his clasped knuckles. "Do you know about millennia stillwater?"
Stillwater was a central tenet of magic. She shifted her bag slung over her shoulder. "Is it as it sounds? Stillwater kept for a thousand years?"
Sway nodded seriously. "In the folkway, sources of stillwater are something of a well-known secret. Rumors say they were started even before the formation of the folkway itself. There are known eight locations within Subterra. As luck would have it, there is a source just outside Faersidda."
She said nothing. There had to be a catch. It seemed unlikely that such a precious finite resource would be simply available.
Sway guffawed, then straightened. "It is practically the stuff of storybook tales. The Marshwump belongs to a crotchety old witch. She is yor Magus, the former mor Magus of Faersidda. Yubi Deerbone. Take care, sor---she may just bite your head off."
As Fiona trudged up the steps to her room, her many packages balanced in her arms, she weighed the risks and benefits of visiting the Marshwump. Her own stillwater had been made from creek-drawn water, then left on a sill for a few days. Back at the university, senior students had access to a reservoir of half-cant. Water that had been kept still for fifty years. Most families had their own well of stillwater, some of which had been kept for centuries, set aside for special occasions. A drop of millenia stillwater, if it had truly been left for a thousand years, would be more potent than an entire river. She shivered at the prospect.
However, it was a gamble. Sway had told her approximately where Yubi's Marshwump was, and she would likely have to dedicate two or three Shades to the endeavor---about five hours. That was if Yubi agreed to let her use the millenia stillwater. There were still other aspects to consider. For example, earning the goodwill of the former mor Magus could prove a boon to her. Then again, was that in the realm of possibility, given Sway's description of her?
Fiona had not reached a decision when she pushed opened her door. Suli seated in a plush chair, reading a slender volume entitled Lifia and the 8 Steps.
"What's that?" Fiona asked, letting her toppling tower of packages tumble into a pile in the corner of her room.
"I have yet to suffer the death of a close friend," Suli replied, tipping the book closed. She crossed the room and helped her stack the boxes neatly. "I'm not sure how I must react."
Fiona turned away and hung her cloak on the rack, buying herself time. "I wish there was a better way."
"Me too."
Silence lingered like a humid summer night. She sat on the rug, hugging her knees to her chest.
After a moment, Suli joined her on the floor, pulling out her block flit. "Time for practice. If you want to be in on the goings on, that is."
Together, they worked through the base elements of the cipher, until Fiona could do all the letters in order, then fit two or three together into basic words. Then the pair sent these back and forth, progressively using longer and longer words. Receiving a signal was much the same as sending one---the same three sides would receive the pattern of presses as clicks or vibrations, depending on the preferred mode. It was difficult work, but Fiona felt confident she could manage passable use of the cipher with enough practice.
As they passed messages back and forth, Fiona asked about her opinion on Yubi.
"I like yor Magus," said Suli, her chin thrust forward. "She nominated me for ilor." The flit pulsed under her fingers. Whatever she had signaled Fiona was not able to catch. "But not everyone does. They feel she is too stingy with her water."
"Innit her stillwater?"
"It is." The young girl traced one edge of the cube with a petite finger. Then she said, "I s'pose folk feel entitled to it. She was mor Magus after all."
Fiona filed this information away. If she chose to visit Yubi, it would not be for stillwater, then. Still, there could be merit in other ways. She had gotten this far with tree roots and shells and glass charms. She felt what she needed now was information, more so than base ingredients for magickery.
"Miss Fi?"
When she looked up, Suli's lower lip was trembling. She reached out a hand, then stopped. Was such a gesture still appropriate between them? Suli was a young witch but not exactly a child. But the little ilor took the offered hand, enveloping it in her smaller ones.
"I get it, but I don't," she said in a wavering voice. "Why must we hurt Enjo?"