Daughter of Magic - Wizard of Yurt - 5 (40 page)

If anybody else wanted to summon a demon to this castle, they would have to draw their own. I found the stub of Antonia’s chalk and hurled it with al my might out into the empty air.

Joachim finished the words of the liturgy as I rose shakily to my feet from the flagstones. They were empty now of al but Cyrus’s blood. The others had retreated back up the passage. “I should reconsecrate this chapel,” said the bishop distantly. “Not today. I should come back with some priests next week and do it.”

“Why did you stop me from going after Cyrus?” I asked, uninterested in consecrated chapels. “I presume he told you exactly what he intended to do?”

“No.” Joachim held me with his dark eyes. “But I guessed his heart. He wanted somehow, desperately, to make amends for at least some of the evil he had done.” I grew weak al over again. “I thought you knew what you were doing the whole time and didn’t want me to give up my life and soul needlessly when Cyrus, after al, had already forfeited his.” He was silent for a moment before answering. “I am the bishop, Daimbert. I could not have made a choice between you, if that’s what you mean, even though I would have wanted to. Al I knew was that he intended to atone for his deeds, and I had to give him the chance to do so.” He paused briefly again. “And I think he has.”

“He didn’t think he could stil save his soul at this point, did he?” I asked incredulously.

The bishop shook his head. “He wasn’t trying to save his soul. He was trying to save Antonia’s. He had finaly come to the realization of just how deeply he had sinned in embracing evil: especialy against the children and against you. He was trying to do good to you and to one particular child for the sake of goodness itself.”

“That sounds like pure motives to me,” I said slowly. “So what happens to his soul? He’s not going to make heaven after al, is he?” Joachim shook his head again, and for a second the angles of his cheekbones gave the faintest approximation of a smile. “Religion is not like wizardry, reducible to formulae and protocols and spels learned from books. Only God can know a soul’s ultimate destination. I myself, Daimbert,” he hesitated briefly, “I think he might possibly be in purgatory.” We slowly returned to the others. Theodora was squeezing our daughter tight and crying hard. Antonia waved me over. “Why is Mother sad, Wizard? She says she isn’t sad at al but she just keeps crying and crying. You can tel me what’s wrong. I’m a big girl.”

I put my arms around both of them, very close to crying myself. “Nothing’s wrong at al. In fact, everything’s right.”

“Grown-ups are very strange sometimes,” pronounced Antonia. I had to agree.

There was a cheerful shout outside, and the flying carpet sailed in again. “I think we can get the rest of you on here,” said Paul, his usual vigor apparently completely recovered. “Whoof, what’s that smel?

Have you gotten the demon back to hel yet, Wizard?”

“Yes,” said Elerius, answering for me.

“It was scary again while you were gone,” said a little boy accusingly to the king.

Paul looked around in assessment, at the twins sitting by the window hugging each other, at the haggard looks on everyone’s faces, at me clutching my family. “You didn’t wait until I was gone to have adventures behind my back, did you, Wizard?” he asked suspiciously.

I shook my head. But the king, I knew, would feel that I had cheated him once again. This might be the last adventure I would ever be alowed to have where he himself wouldn’t run a serious chance of being kiled. The only solution, I thought hopefuly, was to have Yurt go back to being the peaceful kingdom it always used to be.

As we were getting everybody onto the carpet, suddenly I said, “Wait. I need to get Cyrus’s body. I’l tel you about it later, sire.”

“We could always drop him into the old cess pit,” suggested Evrard, loud enough for me to hear but not quite loud enough that I had to respond.

“He should be buried with honor in the cemetery at Yurt,” I said firmly. “But I need something to wrap him in.”

Paul handed me his cloak without a word and Gwennie added her apron. They waited while the bishop and I returned a final time to the chapel. Cyrus’s head had roled into a corner. We put it with the rest and wrapped him up carefuly, making sure no bits were left exposed to terrify the children. When I lifted him with magic he hardly seemed to weigh anything at al.

“I’m sorry, my lady,” said Paul to Justinia as the carpet shot away from the castle at last, “that you weren’t in Yurt at a more propitious time. Usualy it’s not nearly this dangerous! But it wil be good to have a chance to meet the mage; I heard al about him when I was little. You’l have to come back for a visit just to see us again, not to hide from your enemies. How about Christmas?”

“I fear,” said Justinia with a shudder, “that it would be quite cold at Christmas.”

“But I expect you’ve never seen snow,” said Paul, somewhat uncertainly. “You might like it.”

She shuddered again but did not answer. Gwennie, sitting on the other side of the king, gave a smal smile intended for no one but herself.

Theodora squeezed my hand as we flew along. “I’ve been thinking, Daimbert,” she said, very softly. “You know you have— For six years now you—” She paused, apparendy embarrassed to go on.

“Yes?” I prompted.

She put her face on my shoulder and laughed a httle. ‘That’s it. You know what I mean. That’s what I’m saying. Yes.” I pushed her away to look at her, feeling a great surge of hope. The dimple came and went in her cheek. This was not exacdy the most private place to have this conversation, sitting on a flying carpet surrounded by thirty children and several of the chief dignitaries of two kingdoms, but I didn’t care. “Yes, you’l marry me?” Elerius glanced toward us then discreedy looked away. Theodora laughed and hid her face again. “We know we love each other,” she murmured, “and for a while we were competing for who would dide for the other. Everybody knows about us now, or at least everyone in Yurt and Caelrhon. Your king,” dropping her voice even lower, “doesn’t seem to plan to dismiss you for having a liaison with a witch. And your school’s best graduate has been nothing but gracious to me. I said for six years that I didn’t want to marry you because marriage would destroy your career. Now that it’s clear that it won’t, it would be churlish of me to refuse.”

I held her tight, too happy to speak for a moment. Warm summer air whipped past us as we flew. “I don’t know where we’l live or what we’l do,” I said then, “but we’l work out something. As soon as we get back to Caelrhon, or tomorrow for sure, after we’ve recovered, we’l have Joachim marry us.”

Over her head I caught the bishop’s eye for a second. On his lips was a genuine smile.

“And maybe,” she added shyly, “we could think about a brother or sister for Antonia. Maybe not a dozen children like your king wants, but wouldn’t it be exciting to have two?” I looked over toward our daughter. She had climbed into Hildegarde’s lap and was trying to cheer her up. “If you stop being sad,” she promised, “I’l teach you how to turn somebody into a frog.”

“Exciting,” I said, “is not the word for it.”