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“What the hell?” The man jumped up, looking wildly around the train. “Where’d the breeze come from.”
“It blew my hat clean off.” His companion clutched the feathered monstrosity in her lap.
Another man elled that the train must be coming apart, while people on the other end of the car were bewildered by all the hubbub. Rising to my feet, I picked up one of the silk flowers that had blown off my neighbor’s hat.
“Everything’s fine,” I said, handing the flower to her. “No one’s in danger here.”
“I know what I felt, mister, and—”
I cut him off with a raised hand. This is where Rutger proved so valuable. He was a supreme administrator, assuming the mantle of authority with ease. I did not possess his gift, but I pretended I could spread calm.“Everything is fine. Please return to your seats.”
They did as I asked, and while the couple closest to us still muttered about poorly maintained rail cars, there was no more distress.
For her part, Miss Barnes gave me a subtle salute, her fingertip touching her brow. “Touché.”
I shrugged with pretend annoyance, resisting the urge to laugh.
“And I apologize for calling you ill-equipped.”
She sounded sincerely contrite, so I allowed myself a brief smile. “Consider it forgotten. Now, if you don’t mind, tell me what this is and what it means.”
I held out the chart covered with abstract circles. She took it, and she taught me the basics of weather charts and how to read them.
Our destination, the West Point lighthouse, sat at the north end of Elliot Bay, the body of water along which the city of Seattle had been built. While the bay boasted a deep-water harbor, the sand spit surrounding West Point was too shallow for all but the smallest vessels.
The rotating light helped keep water traffic to the deep shipping lane. It was made up of a dozen panels that would flash every ten seconds, and the mechanism had to be wound every couple of hours.
“From there, a weatherwitch can divert the worst of the storms,” Miss Barnes said. “But any small change creates a reciprocal action elsewhere. No one gets to have the sun all the time. Those charts show places of power, nodes and ley lines, that allow us to influence air currents.”
That’s how magic worked, although I tended to ignore the costs involved. “They must have ended up in my packet by mistake then.” I didn’t quite smile, but she did, giving me a wry grin.
“Maybe she meant for you to study them.”
“Indeed.” Miss Barnes was most certainly someone’s annoying older sister. She was also right. I did need to learn more about magic. I got by on charm and parlor tricks, but that wouldn’t suffice for the present situation. “Why do they need a weatherwitch in the first place?”
“Every lighthouse has one, because it’s easier to see weather patterns in such isolated locations.”
“You’re not telling me witches control the weather.”
“We don’t control all of it, but we’ll give it a nudge every now and again.” She folded her hands modestly in her lap but couldn’t quite disguise the hint of pride in her voice.
I nodded, hoping my smile wasn’t too blank. I’d thought weatherwitches operated on hope more than actual power. Miss Barnes showed me my error. “So, what do you think this Ferox Cor can do?”
With a sigh, she set her book aside. “As it says in the packet”—she glanced pointedly at the papers in my hand—“the Cor is thought to amplify the power of anyone who possesses it. Martin Gallagher had been a fairly ordinary witch, or so I’ve heard, but he apparently functioned as a weatherwitch for over twenty years.”
“I wonder why.”
Her eloquent shrug was answer enough. “I suppose that’s what we’ll need to find out.”
“One of the things, anyway. Madam Munro was quite specific that we bring the Ferox Cor to her. Why do you think—”
“You really are just like my brother. I don't know. Whatever it is, we’ll find out when we get there.” Her smile was full of fake annoyance, but before I could compose an appropriately tart response, the porter called us to dinner.
Dinner was no better than I’d expected it to be, and soon the lights dimmed and everyone readied themselves for sleep. The porter made Miss Barnes and I separate beds, pulling velvet window curtains along tracks to make private compartments. In this semi-privacy, I stripped off my coat and waistcoat and took off my shoes. We took turns in the water closet, and I for one was ready to sleep.
I must have dropped off right away, for soon I was dreaming something awful; me, all alone, lost in a void. No matter how hard I ran, I couldn’t find another soul. My breath came short, sweat ran down the sides of my face, and pain stabbed my side.
With a yell, I flung myself off the bunk. My legs tangled in the velvet curtains and I went down hard. Landing on all fours, the carpet burning my palms, I struggled to catch my breath. I didn’t put too much stock in dreams, but this one left an aftertaste of fear.
