Stolen Magic (6 page)

“E
lodie?” An unmistakable round baritone. “Lady El?”

Her pet name, which she loved. “Albin? Albin!”

In an instant he rushed to her, lifted her by her waist, and spun her around, exactly as he used to after they'd mansioned a scene particularly well. When she sailed by Master Robbie, she saw his expression close.

She pitied him, but Albin came first.

He set her down.

Master Robbie left them, his shoulders hunched as he went to the just-so man, who had seated himself in the middle of the row of benches, two benches away from the elderly bee.

“Are Mother and Father here, too?”

“I'm alone. How did you get here?”

“It's too much to tell.” What
could
she tell him? She could trust him with anything. Even IT would have to agree. She beckoned him to bend to hear a whisper. Certainly she could divulge this, which he'd find out soon anyway: “I came with a dragon.”

Albin straightened. “No!”

Theft or no theft, she smiled her widest smile. “Yes.”

He looked puzzled and pleased. “Lady El—”

There wasn't time for his questions. “Why are you here?”

“Because”—he began to narrate and mansion, as he often did—“the farmer sent his helper”—he bowed awkwardly, portraying the lowly helper of Elodie's father—“here to secure enough coin from the good brunkas for passage to Two Castles to bring his daughter back.”

She'd sent a note to set their minds at rest, but it might not have reached them.

“Why didn't they ask Brunka Wilda?” She was the Dair brunka.

“Brunka Wilda said no, and so did the high brunka. They think Bettel and Han shouldn't have sent you to Two Castles.”

If Elodie had had a tail, it would have twitched. The brunkas had judged without understanding.

“What is this, rousing people in the night?” The voice,
loud and angry, issued from the doorway.

Elodie turned to look.

The speaker addressed the just-so man. “Has High Brunka Marya told you, Uwald?”

Elodie tilted her head at Albin. The just-so man was Master
Uwald
? Master Uwald, the richest person on Lahnt after the earl?

Albin whispered, “The very same.”

Master Uwald's vast Nockess Farm spread across the south slope of Zertrum Mountain and into the valley. With the Replica gone, he stood to lose everything.

He'd called Master Robbie
son
, but Master Uwald didn't have a son. Everyone knew that.

“Marya hasn't told us anything yet,” the just-so man—Master Uwald—said, “but I'll bet it has to do with our new arrival.” He gestured in Elodie's direction.

Still in the doorway, the newcomer demanded, “Who is she?”

Albin added, still whispering, “That's his steward, Master Tuomo.”

Elodie curtsied. “I'm Elodie of Potluck Farm on Dair, Master.”

Rudely, Master Tuomo said nothing, just swung into the great hall with a rolling gait. He reminded Elodie of the knave in a pack of cards: his cap tight against his forehead, his face any age between thirty and fifty, a thick
fringe of brown beard, wary brown eyes, short neck, barrel chest, thin legs. A rich man in a brown cloak with a silver pin at the neck. He, too, wore mourning beads.

Might he be the thief? Elodie thought. If he had taken the Replica, it would have been in anger. She returned to wondering about Master Robbie. How did he and Master Uwald come to be together? Master Uwald had been jilted by his first and only sweetheart. He had no children and thus no grandchildren.

The steward sat on Master Uwald's other side from Master Robbie.

In a whisper, Albin added, “Master Uwald's true love was Master Robbie's grandmother. He's now the boy's guardian.”

Everyone knew the story of young Mistress Lilli and Master Uwald and laughed over its irony. She turned down the marriage offer of a poor peddler (Goodman Uwald then) because she disapproved of wagering, and he bet on anything. Soon after, he threw the dice and won the most prosperous farm on Lahnt. He'd been rich ever since.

Was the grandson going to get the riches?

Did Master Robbie love his guardian?

Two bees entered with the barber-surgeon the high brunka had mentioned earlier, her occupation revealed by her linen cap bleached to snowy whiteness. She was a large woman, young, with ripples of light-brown hair below the
cap. Her face was broad with widely spaced tawny eyes, flaring nostrils, a round chin, thick neck.

She smiled at the chamber, and the smile tightened her chin and raised her cheekbones, making her handsome. Such a smile it was, mouth half open, a blazing smile. Elodie thought, When I smile that way, I'm running full tilt or standing at the prow of the cog in a strong wind with flying fish leaping about.

The woman stood behind Master Tuomo, while the bees who'd brought her sat one full bench away from the guests.

High Brunka Marya called into the kitchen, “Ludda, come. Breakfast can wait.”

Did that mean all the guests were here?

Ludda-bee, a serving spoon in one hand, entered the great hall and sat with the other bees.

“Lady El . . .” Albin bowed and held his arm out for her.

In the grand manner of mansioners promenading across a stage, they strutted to the bench, where she sat next to Master Robbie. He looked solemnly at her, seeming to take her measure.

She met his gaze. After a few seconds he blushed. They both looked away.

Albin, on her other side, leaned down to whisper, “Did you mansion at all while you were away?”

She couldn't help smiling and whispered—shame on
her—loud enough for Master Robbie to hear, too, “For the king.”

“No!” Albin said.

She felt Master Robbie jerk a little and sit straighter.

“Yes, and for the princess, too.”

Lodie! a nasal voice said in her mind. Remember your purpose. Observe!

The bees who'd been working here in the great hall came to the benches and sat together, along with the oldest bee, who had preceded them. At the end of the bench, Johan-bee lowered himself so awkwardly—he seemed not to look—that he fell. No one had forced him into this mishap. He'd done it by himself, but the others grinned. One said, “Hopeless.” Another chimed in with “Hapless.” And a third, “Useless.”

Everyone faced the crackling fire. Elodie turned and saw High Brunka Marya approaching from the center of the hall.

Elodie realized she shouldn't be sitting. Masteress Meenore had instructed her to observe everyone when they heard the news, but she wouldn't be able to if she couldn't see them all. She jumped up and stood to the right of the fireplace, feeling as conspicuous as a mouse on a tablecloth. Everyone stared. Albin raised his eyebrows comically. Master Robbie continued his solemn gaze.

She scanned the people, memorizing them, beginning
with the guests on the bench closest to her: Albin at the end, dear Albin in his ancient, threadbare cloak and drawstring poverty shoes, with his worn, expressive face, the deep smile lines in his cheeks, his changeable mouth; then sad Master Robbie, interesting but unknown; just-so Master Uwald, with his arm around Master Robbie's shoulders; the steward, angry Master Tuomo, whose face had not yet relaxed.

The barber-surgeon moved to loom behind the youngest bee, the ardent young man who'd placed the benches. Why was her expression triumphant?

An empty bench separated the guests from the two full benches of bees. Elodie remembered that the most trusted of them were in pairs searching the inner chambers. She'd have no chance to observe them, although one might be the thief.

She knew the names of only two bees: clumsy Johan-bee and the disagreeable cook, Ludda-bee. Two others she'd noticed before: the oldest bee, and the young bee in front of the barber-surgeon, who resembled a real bee, with a plump middle, a short neck, large dark eyes, and skinny limbs.

The high brunka came to stand between the benches and the fireplace. “Please sit, Mistress Sirka.”

“Why can the girl stand and not me?” asked the barber-surgeon, who now had a name—Sirka—and a voice, hoarse, and deep for a woman.

Elodie prepared to sit on the floor, where she could still see everyone.

“She's just a lamb.”

Elodie continued to stand.

Mistress Sirka shrugged and inserted herself between the eager young bee and another bee. The crowded bee benches became even more cramped.

Elodie wondered if the high brunka could hear any hearts that might be pounding and identify their owners.

Watch faces and hands, Elodie thought. Emotions declared themselves through them, as every mansioner knew.

Remember to mansion shock, yourself!

Master Tuomo, still angry, said, “I hope there's a reason—”

“I must . . .” The high brunka's mouth flattened into a line, no smile. “Oh, my dears, I regret”—she pressed her hands together. The tips of her fingers tinted rainbow colors—“to say, the Replica has been stolen.”

E
lodie put her hands over her ears as if to block the news. Her eyes met Albin's, and his were both worried and comforting.

Master Robbie watched her, too. His face was puzzled. He was probably wondering why she was shamming surprise.

Master Tuomo rose. The skin around his lips had paled. “Uwald, we can be on the road within the hour.”

No one can go! Elodie thought.

“Please sit,” High Brunka Marya said.

“My sons!” He remained standing. “I won't reach them in time as it is. Uwald, we must—”

“Sit.” The high brunka's soft voice held a note of command.

The steward sat slowly.

His sons are on Zertrum? Elodie thought. He can't be the thief then.

Watch the bees, she told herself. IT suspects them the most. Keeping her eyes wide, her mouth sad, she turned their way.

The young bee jumped up, sat down, pumped his knees in agitation, his face tragic. Next to him, the barber-surgeon, Mistress Sirka, put a consoling arm around his shoulders. Her face looked untroubled, happy even. He seemed unaware of her.

A female bee put her fist in her mouth. Her eyes filled with tears.

The ancient bee half closed his eyes, although his face was alert.

Ludda-bee snapped, “If Johan could keep to his post, this wouldn't have happened.”

First to blame. Was she directing attention away from herself? Or did she have a reason for the accusation, beyond the fact that he visited the privy while guarding? Surely everyone did that during a long watch.

The other bees seemed distressed in varying degrees, but neither their expressions nor their hands proclaimed anything definite—or anything Elodie could discern. Perhaps her masteress would already have named the thief if IT were here.

She turned from the bees back to the guests.

The genial expression had drained from Master Uwald's face. His eyes were squeezed shut. “Oh. Oh.” But then they popped open. With a visible effort he brought his smile back. He stroked the top of Master Robbie's head and murmured something to him, which Elodie deduced must be an assurance that all would turn out well.

Master Robbie nodded while looking straight ahead. If he had any affection for his guardian, he was keeping the feeling to himself. His sad face was no sadder than it had been, but, of course, he'd already known.

“I'll stand with you.” Albin put an arm around Elodie's shoulders and whispered, “How strange that you arrived for this. Is there”—he paused dramatically—“more to be revealed?”

Much more. She whispered back, “All will be told in the final act.”

“No one has left the Oase,” High Brunka Marya continued, “so one of you has the Replica or has hidden it. If you expect to profit from it, expect otherwise. We'll catch you as a hawk catches a squirrel. Even if you leave Lahnt, we'll find you and deliver you to the earl.”

The earl, who administered the king's justice on Lahnt, wasn't known for his mercy.

“But if the Replica is returned before anyone on
Zertrum is hurt, then I won't seek you out. You'll have the satisfaction of having stolen it and no one—”

Master Tuomo stepped backward over the bench. “Uwald! We must leave. High Brunka, you know we must.”

Master Uwald stood, too. “Yes, yes. Robbie—”

“Sit, both of you. I've sent someone to warn Brunka Arnulf. He'll raise the alarm.”

Had Count Jonty Um issued the warning by now? Was he on his way back? Elodie looked up at the distant windows to see if they'd lightened with dawn, and choked back a gasp. They had brightened, except one, which was emerald green. Pressed against the window, ITs eye.

Master Uwald sat.

Master Tuomo remained standing. “No one can travel fast enough to reach Zertrum in time.”

“This messenger will.” The high brunka didn't explain.

Elodie hoped mention of a mysterious messenger would discomfit the thief, and perhaps it had, but everyone appeared equally dazed.

“Sit, Master Tuomo. No one may leave. The rooms of all the guests are being searched right now. Yours, too, Mistress Sirka.”

The barber-surgeon stiffened. “Hair and teeth! They can't! Not without me looking on!”

“Mistress Sirka, dear lioness, they're interested in nothing but the Replica.”

What in her belongings did Mistress Sirka want to keep secret? Elodie wished she could be there for the search—and here, too.

“If anything is harmed, I'll lop off someone's ear.”

High Brunka Marya seemed unconcerned.

“Who will search the bees' belongings?” Master Tuomo asked. “You can't leave anyone out.”

Master Uwald agreed. “The game should be fair.”

Was everything with him a game to bet on, even the destruction of his farm?

“Bees have nothing of their own,” High Brunka Marya said.

“They have their pallets,” Master Robbie said.

Brave, to disagree with the high brunka! Elodie thought.

He went on. “Don't they sleep on the same one every night? The Replica could be stowed in a mattress. It would fit.”

IT would admire that observation, Elodie thought.

Master Uwald did. “Well done, Robbie!”

Master Robbie's hand found his mourning beads. Elodie wondered if praise reminded him of his grandmother.

Mistress Sirka chimed in. “They have spare shifts, hose,
undershirts, and boots for the snow. The Replica would fit in a boot.”

“The bees are searching in pairs. Mistress Sirka, you may go through the bees' things with Master Tuomo. Master Uwald, dear, if you would be so kind as to search with Goodman Albin.” She didn't mention Elodie or Master Robbie.

Albin bowed at Master Uwald. “At your service.”

“You may begin after we've finished talking,” the high brunka said.

Albin said, “Suppose the Replica is found by a person who isn't the thief. Should he bring it to you? He won't know where it used to be kept.”

Elodie felt a shiver of fear. Why did Albin think of this? The thief would definitely pretend not to know.

“Bring it to me.”

“Will you believe the finder, High Brunka?” Mistress Sirka asked.

“If no one has been hurt on Zertrum, I won't care.”

“Will there be a reward?”

“Robbie!” Master Uwald said.

“Your farm may be destroyed. You may be poor,” he said, sounding untroubled. “I may be poor again. There should be a reward.”

Elodie thought he was right. “Everything possible should be done to recover the Replica.”

But High Brunka Marya tightened her lips. “Saving a mountain will be the reward.”

“I'll give a reward.” Master Tuomo stood again and surveyed the guests and bees. “A hundred silver coins, all my money in the world.”

A fortune. The Replica was worth more, but if the thief preferred not to kill people and beasts, he or she might take the reward instead.

Elodie's head swam. Was Master Tuomo trying to save his sons—or turning suspicion away from himself?

He added, “If anybody finds the Replica, bring it to High Brunka Marya, and I'll promise you the reward. Uwald will vouch that my word is good. If you know something, tell me, and if it leads to the Replica, I'll pay you.”

Master Uwald said, “I'll pay the reward, Tuomo. I can afford it better than you.”

High Brunka Marya looked up at the ceiling as if she might see Brunka Harald's ghost floating there. “Thank you both, but the hundred silvers will come from brunkas, and information will be delivered to me.”

“What are we to do after we search the bees' things? I won't sit still.”

“Dear Master Tuomo, you may look where you like, so long as you do so in the pairs I named, and so long as you remain in this chamber. And a . . . er . . .
personage
will
arrive soon to speak with each of you, a personage adept at finding lost objects.”

“Who?” Master Tuomo demanded.

White smoke wreathed the entry door.

“The one who brought me to the Oase.” Elodie let pride infuse her voice, although she shouldn't have, since she hoped to appear dull witted. “Lahnt is lucky. Masteress Meenore is here.”