Stolen Magic (7 page)

W
ith the sympathy of a brunka, Brunka Arnulf brought out a meal for Count Jonty Um. The ogre devoured half a wheel of cheese, two loaves of bread, and a bunch of late carrots, and drank two pitchers of cider, dining as quickly as he could while preserving his noble manners. When he finished, although he longed to sleep in a warm place, he shape-shifted into a swift again and flew.

Dawn had just begun.

If His Lordship hadn't been tired, if his mind hadn't been sluggish with food, if he had been a bird more often, he would have remembered that dawn was the hunting hour and would have waited before shape-shifting.

As the swift rounded the eastern slope of Zertrum, an arrow pierced his shoulder, and he fell.

“There once was a dragon called Roarer

who filled the people with horror.

Their fear pleased IT mightily,

IT flamed at them frightfully

and caused a boisterous furor.”

Enh enh enh.

No one else laughed. Elodie smiled, while wishing her masteress would stop amusing ITself.

ITs head, shoulders, and forelegs (ITs arms, as Elodie thought of them) inched gingerly into the Oase. “I will not force the matter,” IT said when ITs sides filled the opening.

Everyone but Elodie, Albin, and High Brunka Marya rushed to the opposite wall.

Master Robbie took a few hesitant steps forward, managing to look at once afraid, curious, and hopeful.

High Brunka Marya said, “IT's going to help us find the Replica. IT's as clever as a ratcatcher.”

“I am assuredly cleverer than that. Thief, you may confess now and save me the trouble of smoking you out, so to speak.”
Enh enh enh.

Elodie scanned the bees and guests. If she had stolen the Replica and had never encountered a dragon before, her knees would have buckled. But everyone remained upright, looking equally terrified.

IT grinned, showing ITs teeth, which were pointy as spikes.

The high brunka said, “IT wishes to speak with some of my bees first. Um . . . Ursa, take the first turn. I expect you—bees and guests—to be frank with IT, as open as children.”

Elodie thought the high brunka didn't know many children.

“Share everything, even your suspicions, no matter how absurd you think they are.”

Ursa-bee, as it turned out, was the bee Elodie had noticed weeping with her fist in her mouth when the high brunka had announced the theft. She was a woman of middle height, neither thin nor fat, probably in her mid-twenties, with a high forehead, thin nose, and receding
chin. Her pale green eyes contrasted with her dark skin. She crept forward, her hands clasped prayerfully.

“Everyone else, in the pairs I named, can help with the search. Give the masteress and Ursa a wide berth for their private conversation. I'll be watching and listening.” She drew a stool from the pallet corner into the center of the great hall.

While Ursa approached IT with slow steps, Master Robbie grabbed Elodie's hand. “I'll show you what else is missing, and what's still there.”

His hand was gloved, as hers were. How bold of him to take her hand!

“Wait!” She pulled free and tried to catch ITs eye to see if she should go or stay and listen to the interviews, but IT stared fixedly at Ursa-bee. “All right. Show me.”

And, she thought, tell me what you know about everyone.

I
Ts smoke rose in white spirals. People to frighten, a puzzle to untangle—bliss. Begin with an accusation: “You are from Zertrum, are you not?”

Ursa-bee shook her head so hard her cap trembled.

“From where then?”

She swallowed several times. “From Dew.”

“This Dew is hard upon Zertrum? In the shadow of the volcano?”

“N-no! It's the north harbor village, Sir—M-Mistress—Masteress.”

“Yes,
Masteress
. That is the correct appellation. You despise being a bee?”

“No!” Vehemence seemed to give her courage. “Anywhere else I'd be just a maid of all work. Here I dust, mop, help with the laundering, sweep up the old rushes, put
down the new, as a maid would, but I also take my turn guarding the Replica.”

“You regard your fellow bees highly?”

She smiled, revealing small and uneven teeth. “Certainly! They're bees. They want to help Lahnt. Some come from rich families and could have been anything. Dror was offered the choice of soldier or bee, and he chose bee.”

Which might merely mean, IT thought, he preferred not to die. “In the while since Master Robbie arrived, have you guarded the Replica?”

“Three times, Masteress.”

Now to the heart of it. “Did anything out of the ordinary occur?”

She turned to see where the high brunka was, still on her stool, too far away for a human to hear but doubtless an easy listening distance for a brunka. The bee's fear had come back. “We didn't t-tell Marya because all seemed well.”

“Tell her what?”

“Yesterday morning, after six, soon after Marya left her bed, late into our watch, Johan went to the garderobe, as he often does before the end of a watch. He's always very slow there. Everyone teases him, but I rarely do, because he suffers so. When he'd been gone a minute or two, I heard weeping from the next corridor, the most piteous weeping. I tried not to move but I had to look. Sir . . .”

IT held up a claw.

“Oh. Masteress, I had to see who was crying. The sound was so sad.”

The high brunka's posture stiffened. She was certainly hearing this confession that the Replica had been left unguarded.

Ursa-bee continued. “I hurried. Then I didn't find anyone, but the weeping went on and on.”

Mmm.

“I thought the sound came from one of the rooms. It wormed its way into my head until I couldn't tell if it was in me or out of me, and I started crying, too. I opened door after door and found no one. Finally it died away.”

“And you returned to your post?”

“I waited a few minutes, hoping to find whoever it was.”

“Did you hear footsteps?”

“I couldn't hear anything over the crying. When it stopped I heard none.”

“Mmm.”

“Johan and I got back at the same time.”

“Were you both coming from the same direction? Had he heard the weeping, too?”

“He said he hadn't. I came from the east, he from the west.”

IT scratched ITs earhole. “You said all was well?”

“The Replica was still in its place. We made sure of that. If only it hadn't been!” She twisted the edge of her cloak. “We would have discovered the theft immediately.”

“Describe where it was kept, if you please.”

Ursa-bee looked nervously at the high brunka, who nodded. “It's in—it
was
in Marya's chamber.” She went on to explain.

Very likely, IT thought, that the thief had been in the chamber, under the bed, behind a screen, somewhere! He or she had waited for the two foolish bees to leave and then made off with the prize. How remained to be discovered.

“Have you told anyone?”

“Only you.” She shrugged. “And now Marya.”

“Has Johan-bee?”

“I don't know, but he doesn't say much, and he has a toothache. The barber-surgeon changes the medicine every so often. He may have told her.”

“Have you ever held the Replica in your hand?”

“A few times, Masteress.”

“If you were the thief, could you conceal it on your person?”

“I'm not!”

IT stared at her with ITs flat, emerald gaze. “Could Johan-bee conceal it on his person?”

“If he held it under his cloak. But we don't wear our cloaks when we guard. The corridor is too warm.”

Mmm. “After your watch, what did you do?”

“Ludda gave us pottage in the kitchen. Everyone else had already eaten. Then she asked us to help her dig up the last beets.” Ursa-bee giggled. “Johan went to the garderobe again before going out. We didn't wait for him, but he joined us eventually. We harvested the beets and brought them in in two baskets. Afterward, I slept until afternoon.”

IT exhaled a long stream of white smoke. Progress had been made. “Send me another bee. Send me this Johan-bee.”

A
hunter picked up the wounded bird, who began to vibrate and grow. Frightened, the man let go and jumped away.

After a minute a naked ogre with a bloody shoulder faced the hunter. His Lordship blushed from his toes to his forehead. His shoulder hurt, but he wouldn't die of a single arrow. He wouldn't die of the man's fear, either. “I'm Count Jonty Um.”

The man gaped.

“Of Two Castles. Your horse isn't afraid of me.” He reached out and took the man's bow. “I've come to warn people. The Rep—”

The hunter's knees buckled, and he fainted.

“May I borrow your cloak?” His Lordship rolled the man over gently. Poor-quality wool, but it would have to
do. “I'll pay for the garment.” He tied the cloak around his waist. Then he cleaned his puncture wound with a handful of snow. The cold stung. His shoulder ached.

What to do? The arrow had dropped the swift. If he shifted back, he wouldn't be able to fly.

Elodie and Meenore needed to know that a man called Dror had been as good as forced to become a bee, and that someone named Tuomo and his sons, and someone named Uwald, had left the mountain.

If he walked, the snow wouldn't slow him greatly. The cold posed a greater danger. At best, he'd be several days getting back to the Oase. Fee fi! He was failing his friends.

He started down the mountain and stumbled out of weariness and pain. Before anything, he had to rest. He scanned the way below, but a forest blocked his view. Boulders dotted the slope above, as if a giant (much bigger than himself) had smashed a cliff and scattered the debris.

A mink stood in the shadow of a boulder, sniffing the air. This animal at least he could save. He crouched and held out his hand.

A minute later, the mink was in it. He placed the creature on his shoulder and thought, I have room for more.

Sleep first.

Between himself and the forest, three boulders leaned against one another, forming a three-sided recess that would protect him from the wind. He curled up inside,
with the mink tucked between his neck and his shoulder, each giving a little warmth to the other.

He hoped that Elodie and Meenore were discovering on their own what he'd learned and that both were safe. But his last thought, before diving into a dream of snow and ice, was for Nesspa.

M
aster Robbie led Elodie down the same corridor she'd walked earlier with the high brunka. As the air warmed, both removed their cloaks and gloves.

“A dragon brought you here?” Master Robbie asked. “On ITs back?”

“In an oxcart. The oxen pulled IT and me.”

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed.

A dragon wasn't enough? She had to be flying, too? “With an ogre.” Why did she want to astonish him?

To distract him from his sadness?

To boast?

She shouldn't have mentioned His Lordship.

“Whales and porpoises!”

She smiled. “Yes.”

“Where is he?”

Too late not to say. “He shape-shifted into a bird. He's the one who's warning the brunka on Zertrum. Then he's coming back here.” Soon, she hoped. “His dog is in the stable.”

“Are you afraid of him?”

“The dog or the ogre?”

He grinned. “Not the
dog
.”

She grinned, too. “His Lordship is kinder than anyone I know. He hates when people fear him.”

“His
Lordship
?” Master Robbie radiated disbelief.

“Count Jonty Um. You'll see. He'll tell us how things stand on Zertrum.”

At the corridor that led to the high brunka's chamber, they turned left instead of right.

“Er . . . who do you think took the Replica? You know them all.”

“No, I don't. I'm not sure I've even seen every single bee.”

“Then among the ones you know, bees and guests.”

He stopped walking and frowned at her. “You want me to accuse someone?”

She felt a rush of shame. “No. . . .” Defiance came next. “Yes. . . . Someone did it.” Should she tell him she was ITs assistant?

“Who do
you
think?”

“I just got here!”

“Arriving right after the high brunka found out it was missing.”

Did he suspect her?

She said, “I suspect everyone.”

“Me?”

She smiled mysteriously. “Everyone.” But she didn't, or didn't much. After all, he caused the theft to be discovered.

“Here we are.”

The words
Squirrel Room
as well as a plump squirrel had been painted on the door, which Master Robbie pushed open. They entered a low chamber, roughly circular, lit by glowworms and cozily warm, as the corridor had been. Elodie yawned, because of the warmth and the night without sleep.

Except for four small tables, which stood apart and leaned crookedly on the uneven stone floor, the Squirrel Room was unfurnished. Atop each of three tables rested a wooden box—pale wood with flecks of paint clinging to the grain, as if they had been painted an eternity ago. The fourth table held nothing.

“Is that what's missing? A box?”

He nodded.

“Do you know what was in it?”

“First look in the ones that are here.”

She went to the nearest table.

“No. That one first.” He pointed.

She went to that table. “Open it?”

He nodded.

It was the width and length of her forearm, adequate to hold the Replica. Could it be in here, and he'd known all along? His face was happy, as if something lovely were about to happen.

What would he think lovely?

Uneasily, she imagined opening the box and finding a dreadful surprise, like a scorpion. The lid was hinged and fastened with a tiny hook. She nudged the hook aside. Nothing happened. She lifted the lid. Inside lay a shriveled-up daffodil.

“A flower coffin?”

“Touch it.”

“Lambs and calves!”

The flower began repairing itself. Its stem and leaves lightened to a fresh spring green; its petals softened and turned the lemon yellow of the newly opened flower. When the transformation was complete, she heard laughter. The flower began to laugh—the sound couldn't have come from anywhere else.

First there were low burbles, as if something were very funny but the flower was trying not to give way to it. Then the battle was lost, and the laughter came pouring out.

Elodie grinned. How amusing, a laughing daffodil. How strange at this terrible time.

Master Robbie was chuckling. His expression softened when he laughed. Before the laughter entirely took her over, Elodie thought she might be seeing him as he'd looked before Goodwife Lilli died.

Great whoops of laughter burst from them. Master Robbie covered his mouth with his hands. Seeing him laugh that way, as if he could cram the mirth back in, made her laugh harder.

Their shoulders shook. Nothing was funny. A mountain was going to explode. People might die. Even now, His Lordship might be in danger.

But a laughing flower was funny. The muscles in Elodie's sides hurt.

Finally, the daffodil subsided, exactly the way a person does. It was quiet until a fresh giggle burst out, and then it stopped, and then started again. The bursts became shorter and the intervals longer until it was completely silent. A few moments later it began to shrivel again. Another minute, and it was as they'd found it.

Elodie's and Master Robbie's laughter diminished, too, then ceased.

“If it's touched again, it will start again.”

She wondered if she could make people laugh, too. Although the flower was magical, this seemed a mansioner's
sort of skill. She pushed a bubble of laughter out. Master Robbie smiled. She continued with another bubble.

He chuckled. “Whales and porpoises! You're as good as the flower.”

She continued, and soon they were both roaring with laughter again. After a minute or two, Elodie, with difficulty, made her laughter die down. Gradually they both stopped.

Soberly, meeting her eyes, Master Robbie said, “Grandmother said I'd find surprising comforts.”

Me? Elodie blushed and wished she could mansion a blush away.

He was blushing, too. “Open another box.”

“Which?”

He pointed.

“Who showed them to you?”

“The high brunka took me and Master Uwald around the Oase the day after we came. I liked this room best.”

The next box was as long as the first and a few inches wider. “Oh!” Inside lay the skeleton of some small creature. Would it come to life, too, if she touched it?

But what did this have to do with the Replica and the danger on Zertrum?

She remembered her masteress telling her not to hurry.
If you rush, you will bungle,
IT had said.

She would be patient. She touched the skeleton as lightly as she could.

At once it quivered, shivered, trembled, fluttered, became a dazzle of motion that gained bulk, feathers, a beak, claws, and shiny eyes, and finally settled down. A nightingale.

It chirped, then broke into full-throated nightingale song. After a few minutes it stopped and sagged. She touched it again to keep it alive.

When it stopped for the second time and she reached out, Master Robbie caught her hand. “I doubt it's really alive.”

His fingers were warm. She swallowed hard and nodded, trying to ignore the hand. “Do you think Brunka Harald put a spell on it and the flower?”

“High Brunka Marya didn't know. She said he brought them with him to Lahnt.”

He let her hand go. “Try that one.”

This box was the biggest of all, square, probably a foot by a foot. A flower, a bird. What could this one be the remains of?

A wooden puppet had been folded in, facedown, ragged hat tilted up, a threadbare tunic clinging to its narrow back.

Master Robbie touched the puppet, and it popped up so that it seemed to be sitting in the box. Its long chin and even longer nose almost met. As they watched, its face became painted a cream color with scarlet spots on its cheeks and scarlet lips. Its eyes filled in with black, evenly
surrounded by ivory white, like an owl's eyes.

“It looks cheerful,” Elodie said.

“Or spiteful.”

The jaws moved. The lips were rigid, so its smile didn't change. “I am cheerful.”

Elodie gasped. It sounded uncomfortably human, speaking with a deep, velvety voice that had a happy lilt, the pitch rising on
ful
in
cheerful
. “Ask me a question.”

She said, “Who took the Replica?”

Master Robbie said, “Where is it?”

It raised and lowered knobby shoulders. “The two questions I may not answer.”

“What's my name, Sir Puppet?” asked Elodie.

“You go by more than one.”

“Say one of them.”

Its jaw clacked wordlessly. Then, finally: “Lady El.”

“Lambs and calves!”

“Who made you?” Master Robbie asked.

“A wizard. I have his voice.”

Elodie and Master Robbie both asked, “Do you have his powers?”

Elodie stopped breathing, waiting for the answer. Maybe the puppet could change the spell on Zertrum.

“I have knowledge but no power.”

Elodie cried, “You know who took the Replica and where it is but you can't say?”

It sagged. Its paint began to peel. Quick as quick, she touched it.

It started over. “Ask me a question.”

She said, “Is it true that you know who took the Replica and where it is but you can't say?”

“Yes. I know and cannot say.” The voice still rose gaily at the end.

Useless thing! Elodie wanted to punch the puppet back into the box and slam the cover shut.

Master Robbie, cooler than she, said, “Can you give us a hint?”

The head nodded bumpily. “A single hint. Lady . . .” It drooped.

They both touched it.

“Ask me a question.”

“Can you give us a hint?” Master Robbie said.

“About what?”

Say something useful, Elodie prayed. “About where the Replica is or who took it?”

“Expectation misleads.”

Master Robbie sounded disgusted. “What use is that?”

“Whose expectation?” asked Elodie.

“Yours. And your masteress's.” In ITs nasal voice, the puppet added, “Think, Lodie!”