Miranda and Caliban(27)

“Miranda.” Papa’s voice is like a cord jerking my head upward. “I seek only to protect you,” he says in a gentler tone. “You are too young and innocent to bear the brunt of the world’s unpleasantness. I thought it would trouble your dreams to know that the witch perished beneath our very roof. And I had no way of knowing the lad had found his mother’s body,” he added. “Indeed, until it was confirmed, I could not be certain of his parentage. The witch’s notes mention the boy only in passing.”

I am silent, wondering if Papa’s notes make mention of me.

Papa frowns, but it is a thoughtful frown. “Since it has come to it, mayhap this is an opportune moment to impress upon you the volatile nature of such an element, and the danger of seeking to bend it to one’s will. Based upon my reading of the witch’s journal, yes, I believe that she perished from prolonged inhalation of mercury’s vapors, which are poisonous during certain stages of the work.”

“That couldn’t happen to you, could it, Papa?” I ask in alarm.

“No,” he says firmly. “Because I approach the work with due reverence, and heed every precaution advised by those wise practitioners who trod this path before me. Sycorax, I fear, did not.”

“Why?” I ask him.

He shakes his head. “In truth, I cannot say. But in every walk of life, you will find there are those who think to find a shorter path to their goals, and suffer for it in the end.” Reaching across the table, Papa pats my hand. “As in all things, Miranda, patience is a virtue. I bid you cultivate it.”

“I will,” I promise him.

But in my thoughts, the trickster’s grin has turned sly again, and my dreams that night are restless once more.





FIFTEEN





CALIBAN


Hares, hares, hares; hippity hoppity hares!

But oh, how is Caliban to catch one? Yesterday I take the cord Master gives me and go to the place where the hares are. I lie in the long grass and do not move. I watch the hares come and go. There are trails in the long grass.

When there are no hares, I am alone under the blue sky. Free. I do not have to do what Master says. He is not here to see. He is not here to punish me. I think, what if I do not catch a hare?

What if I do not go back to the palace?

My heart goes hippity hoppity like a hare when I think it, but then there are two things, one-two things, I think. One thing is a thing Miranda tells me: If I run away, Master will use his magic to make me come back. Oh, and he will be angry!

The number two thing is: you, Miranda.

So I do not run.

I do not know what Master wants me to do with the cord so I tie it around my waist like the cord of my pants. I dig a hole in one of the hare trails and cover it with long grass. I watch and watch but no more hares come. I think maybe they are afraid because I am here, so I leave and go to the high place where Setebos watches the sea.

I squat in his shadow and watch, too. Setebos makes Miranda afraid. I do not know why. No, that is a lie. It is because Master says Setebos is bad. But I do not understand why.

Set-e-bos, Set-e-bos!

I remember Umm’s voice singing the name, deep and strong like when Master makes his chants. I remember it in my bones like my own name. Setebos smiles at the sky above me.

I wait and wait and go back, but there is no hare in the hole. I think Master will be angry, but he is not.

Then I think maybe in the morning on the tomorrow day, there will be a hare in the hole, but now that day is today and there is no hare, there is only the hole and dead, dry grass that falls in the bottom.

So, so, so.

Maybe if I put sticks over the hole and grass over the sticks, the grass will not fall. But maybe a hare will not fall either.

Master wants me to use the cord. I untie it from my waist and squat in the long grass and think. The knot Master ties is different than the knot in my pants. It moves up and down and makes a circle that goes bigger and smaller. When it goes smaller, the long end goes longer. I put my arm in the circle and move the knot. The circle goes small around my arm. I pull the long end and the knot moves. The circle goes so small it bites my skin.

O-ho!

To understand a thing all at once is like when there is a storm at night and everything is black and I cannot see anything and then lightning comes and waah! White bright lightning and I can see everything, everything in its place.

Oh, but then it goes and there is dark again, and I cannot remember where everything is.

If you’re cleverer than a hare, you ought to be able to find a way to make use of this to catch one, Master says. Only mind that it doesn’t something ere you’ve a chance to something it.

I pull the long end of the cord harder and the little circle bites harder into my skin, making it wrinkly-crinkly. My thoughts make a line between Master’s something and something. I am to use the circle to catch a hare, only the circle must not be so small the hare dies before I free it.

I wait until there is a hare. I creepity-creep through the long grass. The hare sits up and looks. I throw the circle at its head, but I do not catch it. The hare runs away, jumping, jumping on its long hind legs.

No more hares come today.

But Master is not angry yet. I think it is because Master can summon a hare if he wants; but he wants me to catch it.

I say what I do with the cord and he nods his head up and down. “You’re on the right path, lad. Only think, how might you set the cord to catch a hare without your hand upon it?”