Why it had felt so familiar.
My fingers still felt strange, pins and needles that pulled my nerve endings the wrong way. What I had learned instantly from that moment of contact was at the front of all my senses:
The thing was a Cansino.
I recognised the core of its pattern. The same core as Mere’s and Sarafina’s and Jason Blake’s, too. We were all related.
That thing that had crawled inside me, that had left traces of itself along my veins, my muscles—it was family.
But it wasn’t human. I didn’t know what it was exactly, but it was not a person. How could it not be human and yet related to me? But even more shocking was its age. It was much, much older than any of us.
The thing was a Cansino, reeking of magic rather than insanity, but it was old. Truly old. How was that possible? I had to get back into the library, to all those records gathered by generations of Cansinos.
“Are you all right, Reason?” Mere asked, staring at me. She was holding a glass of red wine in her right hand. Jay-Tee was drinking water. (I wondered how she felt about that .)
I nodded, making myself meet her eyes and smile. “I’m fine.” I had to make sense of this before I could tell anyone. Especially Esmeralda.
“You don’t look it.” She took a sip of her wine, and for a second her teeth were stained purple.
“I’m fine, honest. The pizza’s great.” I took another bite to demonstrate my enthusiasm. “I was thinking about that thing,” I said in between chews. “That horrible smell. What does smell have to do with mathematics? Why do I smell magic?”
“I don’t know.”
Tom looked disappointed by Esmeralda’s answer, but I wasn’t surprised. There was a lot she didn’t know. The whole point of coming here, of living under her roof, was to learn about magic. But so far she had no answers to any of the big questions.
“It’s like physics, Reason, or biology, or any scientific discipline you care to name. There are lots of theories, some of them, like evolution, very useful, but there’s a great deal we don’t know. We have no idea how many species there are in the world. New bacteria, parasites, jellyfish are found all the time. But there are no teams of scientists anywhere in the world researching magic.
“Most magic-wielders don’t even know about it. Most of their lives, they don’t know what they are, and by the time they figure it out—if they do—they’re dying or they’ve gone mad.
“There aren’t many people like me, born into a family that knows. My mother taught me everything she could. I’ve learned from her and from our library and from my own research, but there’s so much more I don’t know. And I don’t have much time left.”
I nodded, wishing I could get into her library myself, do my own research. None of us had much time. Except Tom. If he continued to follow Mere’s rules, he could live at least twenty more years. Twenty years of small, constrained magics. How would he feel when he was thirty-five and we were long dead? I had to stop that from happening. Esmeralda had accepted that was the way magic was and lived her life accordingly. Well, I wasn’t going to do that. I wouldn’t accept it.
“What do you do, Esmeralda?” Jay-Tee asked. “For a living, I mean.” It wasn’t the question I was expecting her to ask.
“I’m an actuary.”
“A what?”
“I calculate risks and premiums for an insurance company.”
“Math?”
Esmeralda nodded. “Of a sort. Statistics.”
“Huh,” Jay-Tee said, turning back to the pizza. Tom glanced at her, looking puzzled.
“Have you ever come across anything like this before?” I asked.
“Only what I’ve read about golems.”
I wondered where she’d read it. In her library or in fairy books? I didn’t think that thing was a golem. It was alive. It was related to me, to her, and to Jason Blake.
“What should we do, then?” Tom asked.
“Guard the door,” Jay-Tee said. “Make sure it doesn’t get through again.”
“We could
My fingers still felt strange, pins and needles that pulled my nerve endings the wrong way. What I had learned instantly from that moment of contact was at the front of all my senses:
The thing was a Cansino.
I recognised the core of its pattern. The same core as Mere’s and Sarafina’s and Jason Blake’s, too. We were all related.
That thing that had crawled inside me, that had left traces of itself along my veins, my muscles—it was family.
But it wasn’t human. I didn’t know what it was exactly, but it was not a person. How could it not be human and yet related to me? But even more shocking was its age. It was much, much older than any of us.
The thing was a Cansino, reeking of magic rather than insanity, but it was old. Truly old. How was that possible? I had to get back into the library, to all those records gathered by generations of Cansinos.
“Are you all right, Reason?” Mere asked, staring at me. She was holding a glass of red wine in her right hand. Jay-Tee was drinking water. (I wondered how she felt about that .)
I nodded, making myself meet her eyes and smile. “I’m fine.” I had to make sense of this before I could tell anyone. Especially Esmeralda.
“You don’t look it.” She took a sip of her wine, and for a second her teeth were stained purple.
“I’m fine, honest. The pizza’s great.” I took another bite to demonstrate my enthusiasm. “I was thinking about that thing,” I said in between chews. “That horrible smell. What does smell have to do with mathematics? Why do I smell magic?”
“I don’t know.”
Tom looked disappointed by Esmeralda’s answer, but I wasn’t surprised. There was a lot she didn’t know. The whole point of coming here, of living under her roof, was to learn about magic. But so far she had no answers to any of the big questions.
“It’s like physics, Reason, or biology, or any scientific discipline you care to name. There are lots of theories, some of them, like evolution, very useful, but there’s a great deal we don’t know. We have no idea how many species there are in the world. New bacteria, parasites, jellyfish are found all the time. But there are no teams of scientists anywhere in the world researching magic.
“Most magic-wielders don’t even know about it. Most of their lives, they don’t know what they are, and by the time they figure it out—if they do—they’re dying or they’ve gone mad.
“There aren’t many people like me, born into a family that knows. My mother taught me everything she could. I’ve learned from her and from our library and from my own research, but there’s so much more I don’t know. And I don’t have much time left.”
I nodded, wishing I could get into her library myself, do my own research. None of us had much time. Except Tom. If he continued to follow Mere’s rules, he could live at least twenty more years. Twenty years of small, constrained magics. How would he feel when he was thirty-five and we were long dead? I had to stop that from happening. Esmeralda had accepted that was the way magic was and lived her life accordingly. Well, I wasn’t going to do that. I wouldn’t accept it.
“What do you do, Esmeralda?” Jay-Tee asked. “For a living, I mean.” It wasn’t the question I was expecting her to ask.
“I’m an actuary.”
“A what?”
“I calculate risks and premiums for an insurance company.”
“Math?”
Esmeralda nodded. “Of a sort. Statistics.”
“Huh,” Jay-Tee said, turning back to the pizza. Tom glanced at her, looking puzzled.
“Have you ever come across anything like this before?” I asked.
“Only what I’ve read about golems.”
I wondered where she’d read it. In her library or in fairy books? I didn’t think that thing was a golem. It was alive. It was related to me, to her, and to Jason Blake.
“What should we do, then?” Tom asked.
“Guard the door,” Jay-Tee said. “Make sure it doesn’t get through again.”
“We could
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