Creatures of Charm and Hunger (The Diabolist's Library #1) - Molly Tanzer Page 0,16

Lieke has her heart set on coming here, and she’s highly promising.”

“I wasn’t talking about an internship,” said Nancy.

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” said Miriam. “I know I’ll have to work hard; I wouldn’t want it to seem like you were playing favorites.”

Jane resisted the urge to punctuate this remark with an ironic snort.

“Everyone knows how hard you work,” said Nancy warmly. “You’re a brilliant apprentice, and you’ll be a brilliant Master. My colleagues are already discussing your potential.”

“How would they even know of me?” Miriam looked downright panicked now.

“Oh, I’ve often spoken of your abilities,” said Nancy.

Jane experienced an uncomfortable mix of feelings as she listened to this exchange. She knew Miriam often felt like she was intruding, but this entire conversation was evidence that she was as much a part of the Blackwood family as if she’d been born into it—more, even, said a small mean voice in Jane’s head. So, while Jane was glad to see her friend relax upon hearing she’d always have a home in the little farmhouse outside Hawkshead, it upset her deeply to hear her mother come out so strongly in favor of Miriam’s abilities after expressing doubt over her own.

That the doubt was apparently reasonable was the injury added to the insult.

“I just don’t want to leave before I’ve learned everything I can,” said Miriam, almost stumbling over the words, “because that’s what I love. I love learning, and I need to be here to do it!”

“No one could doubt it,” said Nancy.

Jane “loved learning” too—she just wanted to do it while learning things other than those inside books. After all, apprentices in more cosmopolitan areas often socialized with one another as companions and associates; they weren’t judged as frivolous for doing so.

Jane sat up a bit straighter. She had more to worry about than approval from her mother or her friend. If they didn’t recognize her dedication for what it was, telling them wouldn’t make them see.

The kitchen had gone very quiet for a celebration. After an awkward moment, Edith rose to put her apple core in the compost bin, and Nancy went back to her pie, prodding at scraps of pastry with her fingertips.

“I don’t know about you, but I couldn’t eat another bite,” said Edith, but her lighthearted joke felt leaden. “I’ll just clear away the tea things.”

Jane looked up to find that Miriam was staring at her, her expression inscrutable. Jane, cross and disinclined to be generous, tossed her hair as she turned to her aunt.

“I’m finished, thank you,” she said, meaning more than just the tea.

Miriam winced and seemed to shrink into herself a little. Though she was usually not so good at reading people as she was her beloved books, she’d apparently managed to perfectly divine Jane’s meaning.

5

* * *

HOURS PASSED WITH EACH WOMAN in whatever corner of the house best suited her. For Miriam, that was down in the Library, though it was not long before she gave up reading for idly scanning the shelves for any titles that happened to catch her eye. Eventually, the savory smell of the pie brought them all back to the kitchen in a better mood than they’d left it, and a bottle of Nancy’s homemade sparkling cider dispelled the remaining tensions. Miriam and Jane also had a goodly share of it, more than Nancy would ever pour them save perhaps on Christmas Eve.

“It’s a celebration,” she said, but her tone was not exactly celebratory.

The cider was good, sweet with a tart note from the tough-fleshed apples that grew at the northern edge of Nancy’s property. It was very strong; Miriam felt it sliding down her throat, intruding into her stomach, forcibly relaxing her muscles and her mind.

It had been a long day of confusing emotions. When Edith announced her intention to examine them, Miriam hadn’t been afraid; she was confident in her abilities. But she had been unhappy to feel caught short at a time when she was most vulnerable—out-of-doors where anyone might see her.

Then the Test had been far more bizarre than anything she could have predicted. She had quickly realized she’d been drugged, which had not done anything to further endear Edith to her. She had perceived there must be some reason for the experience, however.

The presence of a demon inside her mind had confirmed that. There was no way Edith would have slipped them both real diabolic essence; they hadn’t yet made the Pact, hadn’t yet chosen a demon to petition. Realizing all this had