Beatrice scanned through the magical code. “Yes. There are only twenty listed.”
“That’s more than enough,” Ysbeta said. “And they’re not written in Mizunh. So you Chaslanders knew how to summon greater spirits before you petitioned for the opening of a chapterhouse?”
“Yes,” Beatrice said. She held the book to her chest and let the relief and elation wash over her. Nadi had done more than simply cross Ysbeta’s path with Beatrice’s. Her hands trembled as she set the book back on her knees. “This book—it’s the other piece of the puzzle. The last piece.”
“What do you mean?”
“The book I found yesterday told how to summon a greater spirit to make the great bargain.”
Ysbeta took the grimoire from Beatrice’s hands. “That’s exactly what I need. I couldn’t have found this anywhere else in the world.” She breathed deeply, Beatrice guessed, of the moss-covered stones smell of the magical code. “I’m saved.”
Saved. Ysbeta didn’t want to marry. She wanted to be a master magician, like Beatrice. “How did you come to know the finding spell, but not know the spell to read them?”
“I had only one source directing me to the secret grimoires of Chasland. A woman who married a friend of the family who is a director of international commerce.”
“Susan de Burgh! I read about her in the papers,” Beatrice said. “Chasland was amazed by the match. She was a poor relation to Lady Wilton.”
“And here I was trying to keep her confidential.”
“Her marriage was everywhere. It was quite the irresistible story,” Beatrice shrugged and smiled. “My younger sister was mad for it. She clipped every article she could find about the match. So she’s well, in Llanandras?”
“I’m sorry,” Ysbeta said. “She didn’t survive her first child.”
“She didn’t? They never reported it. Oh, that’s so sad.” Beatrice clenched the railing more tightly. “She told you about the books, but nothing else?”
“She told me about the books, but she said decoding them takes years of study,” Ysbeta said. “I need you to teach the reading spell to me. In return, I shall encourage Ianthe’s pursuit of you.”
“Oh,” Beatrice said. “I see.”
Ysbeta smiled and turned her attention to the shore. “He is, as I am sure you know, an excellent match. You cannot hope to attract the attention of another who stands so high. You will ensure the prosperity and status of your family with his hand in marriage, and your sister will want for nothing when her own bargaining season comes. Will you teach me the spell?”
Any girl would fall over themselves for Ianthe Lavan. They would. Ysbeta’s pride in her brother was not arrogant, but earned, and it made sense that the daughter of an actuary would jump at the chance.
He was beyond even Father’s dreams for a son-in-law. Ianthe was more than he had hoped for. He was sophisticated, handsome, skilled in the gentlemanly arts, and no one had listened to Beatrice the way he had. If her portrait featured her with a rifle rather than a violon, he would have been intrigued.
An echo of shivering delight ghosted along her skin. She never knew a kiss could feel like that. She didn’t know that she had been asleep to such feelings, or how once awakened, they made her crave more. Ianthe was an ideal husband.
And if she chose him, she could never become a mage. She would never hope to gain the alliance of a spirit so powerful she couldn’t even imagine what she could do—what could she and a greater spirit of Fortune accomplish?
Could she give all of that up, even for him? Could she give him up, even for power?
“Well?” Ysbeta asked. “The choice should be simple.”
“Perhaps,” Beatrice said, smiling in apology. ”But I must ask—what do you expect to do, once you have a decoded translation of that grimoire?”
Ysbeta turned her head to lay a piercing stare on Beatrice. “Cast the spell,” she said. “Bind a great spirit, so I may continue pursuing knowledge.”
Beatrice kept her face neutral and attentive through this explanation. “I’m afraid it won’t be that simple. Summoning spells are dangerous. You need to be skilled enough to handle complex magic just to handle a lesser spirit, and the greater spirits are a different order of difficulty.”
“I’m not afraid.”
Children ran up to the shore and shrieked as the waves crashed into them. Beatrice folded her eyebrows into a stern squint. “You should be. If you’re going to survive the ritual, you need the practice in summoning.”
Ysbeta’s pointed chin rose. “Are you a practiced summoner, then?”
Beatrice’s pride stole her tongue. “I am.”
“Then you will teach me how to do this. I will smooth the path to Ianthe. We must begin immediately.”
“It’s a generous offer,” Beatrice began. “However, I don’t think it’s that simple.”
“What more could you want?”
Beatrice now understood that she could want a great deal. Didn’t Ysbeta have her doubts? “How many grimoires have you found, Miss Lavan?”
She gave Beatrice a smug look. “I have found twelve.”
Beatrice blinked. “So many? I only have four. Have you been here that long?”
“Two weeks. I have scoured bookstores here and in Meryton,” Ysbeta said. “Lavan House is nearly equidistant to both. I found more volumes in Meryton, however—I wonder why?”
“I don’t know,” Beatrice murmured. “But I wish to bargain with you. I will teach you conjuration, including the spell to bind a greater spirit—after I have copied the books in your collection.”
Ysbeta leaned away, scrambling for a response. “That will take several visits.”
“So it will.”
“We will have to appear to be friends.”
“I’m afraid so.”
Ysbeta smiled at the joke. “You will have no use for that knowledge once you marry.”
“Neither will you.”
Ysbeta turned her face to stare at the sea. “I have no wish to marry.”
“Miss Lavan. I have spoken with your brother, and he told me that your family came here to meet a friend of his.”
Ysbeta sighed. “What my mother wants and what I want are opposed.”
“Then if I may ask, what is your goal in Bendleton?”
Ysbeta tapped the pages of the grimoire. “Chasland is unique. Only the women of Sanchi have any access to the higher magics, and they keep their tradition so secret all I know are tales of what they can do. I met Susan, and she told me of the grimoires. So much knowledge is lost. Chasland has adopted the techniques of the chapterhouse. But Chaslander women have, I suspect, preserved or hidden Chasland’s tradition in these volumes. How are they made?”
“I don’t know how to make one. I’m sorry. I can only find them and read them.”
Ysbeta leaned closer. “I must appeal to you. Help me preserve the knowledge of magic unclaimed by the chapterhouse. Teach me what you know of the magic inside these grimoires.”
She had to understand what Beatrice wanted. Ysbeta wanted the touch of magic. She wanted the knowledge. She wanted the same thing Beatrice did. “I am happy to support you in your chase, Miss Lavan. Let us walk together on the path of the Mysteries. Such alliances are rare and precious.”