Magic Can Be Murder (15 page)

And she had to act fast, she reminded herself again as she spotted two young women walking together—in the wrong direction anyway—or the street would have too many people, and someone outside would see the transformation.

I can't be too particular,
Nola told herself, guessing that Galvin, Halig, and Kirwyn must be finishing their breakfast, and that soon Alan would be knocking on her door, asking if she was coming out for hers or if he should bring it to her. Waiting for exactly the right person could doom the plan in any one of several ways, she thought.

And just as she thought it, exactly the right person walked into sight.

It was an old woman, walking from right to left—walking
slowly
because she had a cane.
Perfect.

Fervently hoping no one else was watching, Nola said the words of the transforming spell. She left the old woman her own clothes, but she gave her Brinna's face and hair.

The change caused no outcry, which was good, for this indicated no one on the street had noticed.

Look up,
Nola wished at the men in the kitchen.

She waited, waited.

Had it been too long? Had the woman passed by the kitchen window unobserved? Should Nola change her back?

"Brinna?" It was Alan's voice. Good old Alan.

He
was
calling out the window, wasn't he—and not down che hall to her room?

"Brinna?" Alan's voice was louder this time. Definitely calling to someone who was moving away without heeding.

Nola heard the scrape of one of the benches as someone pushed away from the table.

"
Brinna?
" This time it was Kirwyn. Not tentative and amazed, as Alan's voice had sounded with the first calling of her name, nor even the second, louder attempt to get attention from a distance, but an angry bellow.

There was more noise from che kitchen. All four of the men put down cups, knives, plates—whatever they'd been holding—and got to their feet, scrambling to the window. Nola most intensely hoped it was all four men. The kitchen door opened, and she heard footsteps running, but it was impossible co tell how many pairs of feet.

She hesitated, ready to duck behind the bed in case any suspicious soul came to check the room.

But there were no footsteps coming down the hall. Either they had all taken off after the false Brinna or one or more of them were waiting in the kitchen to see what the others had to report, and if that was the case, her plan had failed of itself. She would not let it fail because she feared to act.

As she hobbled to Brinna's door, she let most of the transforming spell drop from the features of the old woman on the street before anyone had a chance to catch up to her. Nola left hair that was yellow rather than pure white and Brinna's very nose, so that the men would think themselves only foolishly deluded rather than tricked. She was growing less and less confident in her plan as time went by and her actions became irrevocable.

She was out Brinna's door and halfway down the hall before she heard the first sounds of the men returning through the courtyard. Actually, what she heard was Kirwyn saying, "Alan, you are such a fool. I have no idea why I put up with you."

Instantly Nola let entirely go of the glamour she had put on the old woman, and at the same time she turned around, faced
toward
Brinna's room, and transformed herself to look like her mother. "Brinna!" she called in a querulous voice. "Brinna's impostor! Where are you?"

Behind her, she heard the men enter the kitchen—in their rush to leave, they had not closed the door behind them.

She held on to che wall and didn't try to walk, for she didn't want them to see her limping. "I am the true Brinna!" she shouted. "Come out here and face me!"

From behind her, Kirwyn moaned, "Oh, not again!"

"Mary?" Alan edged past Kirwyn and gently took Nola's arm. "Hello, Mary. Have you lost Nola?"

Nola pulled her arm away. "I'm not looking for Nola. I'm looking for whoever that is who's pretending to be me. Can you see today that I'm Brinna?" Nola tossed her head to show off her wispy gray hair.

"Get this madwoman out of my house," Kirwyn demanded.

Alan glanced for direction not at Kirwyn but at Galvin and Halig—for which Nola was sure Kirwyn would make him pay later. Galvin, however, was looking quizzical.
He's wondering why Brinna hasn't come out of her room at all this bother,
Nola surmised.

And sure enough, the next moment he squeezed past Kirwyn and past Nola and Alan. "Brinna?" he called. When he saw there was no one there, he turned and looked at Nola.

"Gone?" Nola asked. "Good. I knew she couldn't keep up the pretense forever." She began humming and swaying. And hoping that she was making the situation better—not just more complicated.

Kirwyn practically knocked her down in his rush to Brinna's door. "That wasn't her on the street," he insisted. Was he needing assurance? Daring anyone to contradict him?

"No," Galvin agreed, still looking at Nola, still trying to figure out the connection. If Nola had been able to think of anyone besides Brinna whose appearance on the street she could be sure would get Galvin, Halig, Kirwyn, and Alan out of the house, she certainly would have tried that rather than risk what at best must seem a very odd coincidence. But the only other person that they all would recognize was Innis, and neither Galvin nor Halig struck her as the sort to believe in ghosts. And would Kirwyn have rushed out of the house to chase after the father he had killed?

Still, she was left with Galvin standing before her—and no doubt Sergeant Halig standing behind her—trying to resolve Brinna on the street/Brinna not on the street/Brinna not in her room/and old woman claiming to be Brinna.

Of all people, Kirwyn came to the rescue. He stormed past Galvin directly into Brinna's room, as though to make sure Brinna wasn't on the floor on the far side of the bed. "Brinna, you good-for-nothing whore!" he shouted, as though that would convince anyone who was hiding to come out. Although the blanket was neat and flat and obviously not covering anything, he yanked it off the bed, then flung it on the floor in frustration.

At least this tantrum distracted Calvin's attention away from her, though Nola worried that Kirwyn was furious enough to go after her. The other three would protect her, she assured herself. If there was time.

Kirwyn shoved the chest away from the wall, though there was hardly room for a mouse back there. Muttering a scream of curses, he even threw open the lid of the chest, upending the dinner tray that was sitting on top. Then he kicked the cup and bowl out of his way.

"It
is
difficult to find a good housemaid," Galvin said amiably, as though that could be che cause of Kirwyn's ire.

For a moment Nola thought Kirwyn might go for his throat, but he quickly came to his senses, which might have had something to do with Halig taking a step forward.

"Maybe," said Alan, che peacemaker, "she left to do the marketing while we were occupied outside."

Nobody pointed out that Brinna supposedly couldn't take more than a step or two without aid. Nor that
if
Brinna had had a miraculous recovery, she would have come outside right on their heels, which surely one of them would have noticed when they turned back from their wild-goose chase after the old woman.

Kirwyn only said to Alan, "Out. Out of my house. You are useless, you always have been, you always will be—find employment elsewhere." And he stamped his feet like an outraged three-year-old, down the hall toward the silversmith's shop.

He turned back at the doorway to his father's room and pointed at Nola. "And ger that old witch out of here, too!"

As always the word
witch
was almost enough to make Nola's mind shut down in panic. She was barely aware of Kirwyn slamming the door. A moment later they heard him slam the door between the bedroom and the shop, too. And then, faintly, the outside door.

Calvin looked at Halig with raised eyebrows but wasn't going to say anything in front of outsiders. And at least they weren't looking at her. To Alan, who appeared ready to crumble at Kirwyn's dismissing him, Galvin said, "Don't leave. We need you here until the matter of this murder is settled."

Nola didn't wait for Alan's relief to settle in. She flung herself onto the floor saying, "And I'm not leaving, either."

Galvin sighed. Though his tone indicated he suspected talking to her was useless, he asked her, "Do you know anything about Innis's death?"

Nola tugged at her hair in horror. "Innis is dead?" she cried. And she rocked back and forth, moaning loudly to make a nuisance of herself. "Oh, poor man, poor man." She didn't want to say anything to give them the idea that she knew anything useful, so she asked, "Has anyone told Kirwyn yet? First my mother died when she was giving birth to me, and now Master Innis. They always say death comes in threes. Who'll be next? Ohhh." She shuddered and put her hands up to cover her head.

Galvin asked Alan, "Do you know where she lives?"

Alan had knelt down beside her. "No," he said.

Nola howled louder. She hoped she was giving them all headaches. "Nola!" she called, deciding it was time to drop the pretense that she thought she was Brinna. "Where's my daughter, Nola?"

Wincing ac the noise, Halig asked Alan, "I don't suppose there's any chance you know where her daughter lives, either?"

"Madam," Galvin said as Alan shook his head, "please stop making that noise."

"I'm always noisy indoors," Nola shouted.

"If you don't stop," Galvin said, "we'll put you outdoors."

Far from being a threat, this was exactly what she had been hoping for.

"
Noisy!
" Nola leaned forward to shout at him.

His patience snapped. With a glance at Halig, who quickly interpreted ic, Galvin moved forward and cook Nola under the arms. Halig grabbed her legs. Nola went ahead and screamed ac the pain of Halig's hand around her ankle.

Halig let go and made a helpless gesture, which Nola guessed was in response to an I-didn't-say-to-hurt-her glare from Galvin.

Lest they become suspicious about a second woman with an injured leg, Nola yelled at Halig, "Don't you become familiar with
me,
young man! I know you men are after only one thing!" She started screaming again so that she would be ready for the pain when Halig took her legs again.

They picked her up, gently, and brought her outdoors. As soon as they were out in the courtyard, she stopped screaming. "That's better," she said, trying to look pleased with herself though her ankle still throbbed.

She let Galvin and Halig set her down on the bench under the walnut tree.

"Can you fetch her something to eat?" Galvin said to Alan. "She doesn't look like she eats near enough."

Alan nodded.

"And then try to find the daughter," He stooped down to put himself on a level with her. "And you," he said, "behave yourself, or Master Kirwyn will fetch the magistrate."

Nola covered her mouth with both hands, as she had seen her mother do, and nodded earnestly.

Galvin gave a smile of encouragement that nearly broke Nola's heart. She had hoped that they would throw the crazy old woman out, and had not anticipated that they would take care with her. Galvin had told Halig that
she
seemed kind—well, he had said Brinna, but he meant Nola-as-Brinna. He, also, had seemed kind, but she had dismissed that as his trying to impress the beautiful Brinna. Now she had to fight to keep from leaning forward, from grabbing a handful of hair from off his head so that she would be able to, sometime, see him again.

But she couldn't take even one. She couldn't risk him connecting that with the time he had helped Brinna up from the floor of her room, and she had caught her finger on a hair and pulled it loose.

"And you and I," he was celling Halig, "will go in search of the elusive Brinna."

Halig nodded. He and Galvin were heading for the gate that led from the courtyard to the street, Alan was heading for the kitchen, and she would never see any of them again.

She closed her eyes and reminded herself that this was exactly what she had spent the whole last day trying to achieve.

A
LTHOUGH
N
OLA WASN'T
in the least interested in food, she waited for Alan to fetch the promised meal so that he wouldn't see her leaving the garden. In fact, when he came out bearing a tray, she leaned against the tree, closed her eyes, and made a snoring noise so that he wouldn't feel obliged to chat with her.

She watched through slit eyes as he went out the gate after Galvin and Halig, who had gone out after Kirwyn, who was out looking for Brinna. Her ankle still hurt, but not enough to twist her stomach into a knot. She would be able to walk, she assured herself, at least as far as the wall.

There lay a pile of sticks and small branches and yard debris that had come down during the rain and wind of two nights ago. Nola found a long stick with which she could make do until she found a better one to use as a cane. And with that, she transformed herself yet again, this time giving herself the appearance of an old woman without choosing the face of any particular person of Haymarket.

She fought her inclination to simply head away from the chaos she herself had caused. She didn't know—not for sure—what Brinna's involvement was. Galvin had certainly proposed other wrong conjectures; she couldn't even tell which ones he actually believed plausible and which he set forth just to see what reaction they would get. Maybe there was another explanation to Brinna's claim co being in the kitchen with Kirwyn. Besides, Nola told herself, even if there wasn't—even if Brinna had conspired with Kirwyn to kill Innis—Nola
still
had used her badly,
still
owed her for kindness,
still
owed her explanations ... still owed her a warning about Kirwyn.

With the walking stick helping to support her weight, Nola made her slow way co the river, to the barn that stood near che millpond.
This one chance,
Nola said.
Ifshe's not there, so be it. I won't spend any time looking for her.