The Fairy Godmother (10 page)

But now she was able to feel something besides exhausted, and ready to do full justice to whatever was on the stove for dinner.

For some reason, Rose seemed a trifle more friendly over supper. Lily chatted away, sounding very much like Madame Fleur, and Robin and Hob, though mostly silent, made it clear even in their silence that they approved of Elena. So evidently the entire household was happy with her now; she didn't
know
why, but she could guess.

The Elven King's approval had impressed Lily, and probably that was why the atmosphere had warmed all the way around. The Fair Folk all bowed to the Elven King and Queen, no matter what race they were; the Royal Pair were the supreme authorities in their sphere. Apparently, having the Queen's blessing was one thing, but earning the King's was quite another level of achievement.

“I'd say she's made good progress today,” Madame Bella was saying, as Elena brought her wandering attention back to the conversation and the meal. “I must say, there is a great deal to be said for bringing in an older Apprentice; there's nothing flighty about you, my dear.”

Elena was saved from having to say anything by having a mouth full of excellent rabbit pie.

“Some of the stories I've heard,” said Rose, with a disapproving
tsk
. “Girls whining and complaining about being buried in the country—as if they were going to have time
for
anything
but learning the job of Godmothering! Girls half afraid of everything around them. Girls carrying on with young men—”

It suddenly struck Elena—Bella had intimated that she had been a maiden lady all her life. Did this mean that Godmothers were not supposed to have anything to do with men? She felt a moment of mingled shock and dismay.

Not that any man ever showed any interest in me—but is it worth giving up the possibility?

“There is nothing wrong with a young woman being interested in young men,” Bella retorted.

“A young
woman
, certainly. But a young Godmother?” Rose snorted. “Madame, think of the risk! The Tradition has no room in it for wedded Godmothers! And any young man falling in with a Godmother is going to be
forced
by The Tradition into
some
familiar path! So what does that leave?” Rose gave none of the others a chance to answer that question. She counted off the options on her fingers. “The Rogue, who will leave her broken-hearted, and perhaps in difficulties. The Betrayer, who will lead her enemies to her. Or the Enemy himself—whether he
is
the Enemy or later
becomes
the Enemy….”

“Or something new,” Madame said firmly. “The Tradition can be redirected. Witches have married Wizards and made good matches of it, and Sorceresses joined to Sorcerers, and there used to be no place in The Tradition for that.”

Rose snorted again. “Only
if
the Godmother is strong of will, and if it isn't
only
the Godmother who has the will to steer it into a new path. And from what I've heard, there
wasn't a one of those girls that had the will to turn a goose from grass, much less The Tradition from its chosen path.”

Madame laughed, and shook her head. “Only rumors, dear Rose. And really, if a girl is that unsuitable, she's generally run away from all the hard work before the Queen gives her blessing. I would not have taken Elena to the Queen if I had not thought that she was suitable, and the Queen has her own means of weighing candidates.”

Rose nodded grudgingly. “Well, you were careful, Madame, and there have been those that just took the first girl to cross their path with a wreathing of magic about them.” Finally she turned to Elena. “I have to say, even though I thought Madame was rushing you, I must admit that Madame was right about you. I've never heard of the Queen giving a blessing to anyone on their first day of being an Apprentice.”

The talk turned then away from Elena, and to, of all things, the small doings in the nearby village. Elena did what she had learned to do among Madame Klovis's servants when she wanted to learn things.

She stayed quiet, and listened.

This was how she learned that Madame Bella not only
was
thought of as one of the local White Witches, but that people made the long trek out through the forest to the “cottage” on a regular basis. Furthermore, there was a less-powerful Witch who served as Bella's agent in the sale of potions, healing draughts, and herbal remedies, with a stall on market day in the square of the largest village.

Finally Rose seemed to realize that Elena was there. “I
don't suppose you know much of concocting,” she said, dubiously.

“Common things, yes,” Elena replied, and pulled a face. “My stepmother never spent a penny on anything other than herself and her daughters, so I had charge of the stillroom—”

“Ah, good!” Bella exclaimed. “Then tomorrow we'll work there, and I'll see how well you follow a recipe. If I am content, I will leave you to work alone, and once you have produced the actual potions, I will show you how to infuse a little magic into them. Not a great deal, but enough to make them work efficiently and effectively.”

Elena's look of surprise must have been very obvious, for Bella laughed, and so did Rose. “Godmothers aren't always going about lobbing magic swords in the paths of rightful heirs, or giving younger sons the right answers to riddles!” Rose exclaimed. “They do as much good with the little magics as they do with the great ones, I'll be bound. It's more working
with
The Tradition; the happier and healthier a Kingdom is, the harder it is for the Evil Ones to insinuate themselves into it.”

“Meanwhile, your day isn't done yet, my dear,” Bella said, as Hob cleared away the dishes and Elena moved to stand up. “I want you to come along with me.”

Now what?
she thought, with dismay. It had been a very, very long day—

But Madame led her straight to the library, and after studying the shelves for a moment, selected three books and handed them to her. “Here you are, your work for tonight,” she said. “Read them, and ask me for more when you've finished.”

“What are they?” she asked, turning the books over and seeing no title worked into the leather covers.

“The earliest histories of the Five Hundred Kingdoms,” Bella replied. “Priceless books, in their way; I don't think there is more than a handful of copies in existence that are
not
in a Godmother's library. I want you to read them, see how The Tradition has grown and changed over the years.”

Elena nodded, but felt a thrill of greedy glee. As if being told to
read
was some sort of work! She took the books and went upstairs, where the lamps were already lit.

She settled in with the books, and paused to look about herself, and marvel at how her life had changed. It was, literally, unbelievable.

I had better get used to believing in the unbelievable, then,
she told herself, and turned her attention to the first of the books.

After the first few pages she realized that above all else, Madame was right; she had a lot to learn. But it would not be the first time, and she had everything to lose—

—and everything to win.

 

Every waking moment of every day from that moment on was filled and overfilled with
something
having to do with being a Godmother's Apprentice. From the lessons about magic to the work in the stillroom, from the forays into the forest to collect the wild herbs that would not grow in a garden (though those were few, with a Brownie being the one doing the tending) to her long nights studying the history of the Godmothers and their work in the Five Hundred Kingdoms, she had no time to spare and little opportunity to think of herself.

Not that Madame was unkind! But she was an implacable taskmistress, expecting no less than total dedication, for that was what she herself gave to the job.

For virtually every waking moment of Madame Bella's day was given over to Godmothering, and Elena could easily see why Madame wanted to pass her position on to someone younger. Within the first three days, Madame was gone for nearly an entire afternoon and evening, and only returned well after moonrise. Elena heard her weary footsteps on the path to the door, and flew to open it for her.

Elena had been in the stillroom this afternoon and had not seen Madame leave; she loved being and working in the stillroom, for it was the one place where she was on firm ground. She had made up dozens of items in the Klovis household when the housekeeper had quit. Madame Klovis was “above” dirtying her hands in the stillroom, there was no one else who cared to take on the task in addition to their own, and Madame would not spare the money to purchase needed infusions, tinctures, and ointments in the market. Perfumes, face and land lotions, goodness yes, but common burn ointment was a “frippery.” So, as usual, it had been Elena who had found herself with the task on her hands.

She had enjoyed it, though; stillroom work was anything but boring, and it wasn't hard labor. Here in the Godmother's stillroom, it was even more enjoyable, for she had the finest of ingredients to work with, in generous measure, and a recipe book that featured such delights as rosewater, jessamine lotion, and tincture of lavender. Bella had spent no more than a quarter of an hour supervising her initial
labors; after that time she had laughed, stated that there was nothing she could teach her Apprentice
here
but the final infusion of magic, and left Elena with a list of what needed to be made up.

It made Elena very happy to know that here, at least, she was actually contributing to the household. When she had a bit of free time, she was making up scented candles and as a special surprise, a pair of scented gloves for Madame.

She busied herself until darkness fell, then after a dinner with the House Elves, went to her books. Madame did not return until an hour after that.

Elena heard her at the door and ran down the stairs to open it for her. When she opened the door, she saw to her astonishment that Madame was garbed in what Rose called “the full rig-out,” from the top of her powdered wig to the silver buckles on her satin-covered high-heeled shoes. No ball-gown could have been more resplendent; the rose-pink, lace-festooned confection fitted her like the proverbial glove. The lace alone probably cost enough to buy the nearest village; the satin overskirt had been embroidered with an all-over pattern of rosebuds, and the underskirt was festooned with cascading tiers of more lace, sparkling with tiny faceted beads of rose crystal. She carried a staff rather than a wand; made in the manner of one of the highly fashionable, tall walking-canes, it was surmounted with a globe of rose-quartz caught in a winding of silver vines. Madame leaned on it heavily; she looked exhausted.

Rose took charge of her the second that Elena opened the door; she somehow whisked Madame away before Elena had time to realize that Bella
needed
help. And roughly
half an hour later, Rose summoned Elena from her own rooms to cross into Madame Bella's.

It was the first time that Elena had been there, and she was not at all surprised to discover that the rooms were furnished in an older style than her own. Madame favored the medieval; the walls were hung with tapestries, the furniture looked too heavy to move, and the overall effect was frankly sumptuous. Madame herself had been stripped of her festive gown and elaborate wig and was sitting before the fire, wrapped in a dressing-gown, sipping a cup of tea.

“Ah, Elena!” she said, and Elena was glad to see that some of the weariness was gone from her face. “I'm sorry I did not tell you that I was leaving, but you were busy—and you will discover for yourself that although we may know for some time in advance that we will find ourselves with a particular task to perform, we don't know exactly
when
that task will take place. Today I was needed, along with six of the Fair Folk, to guide a prince to where his captive maiden was waiting for him, and to make sure he knew the secret that would defeat the one who held her captive.” She smiled ruefully. “Then, of course, I had to remain long enough to see whether or not he was victorious.”

“But—” she protested. “Why wouldn't he be?”

“Because, my dear, no outcome is
certain
, not even with The Tradition pushing it along. I brought you here, however, to show you how I know when I am going to be needed, and where. It is time for you to meet Randolf.” She gestured at something on the wall opposite her fireplace—something like a painting, or perhaps a mirror, but one with heavy velvet curtains hung in front of it. “Go over there, and draw the curtains.”

With curiosity eating her alive, she did so. It
was
a mirror, and there was a face staring at her from out of its inky depths.

It wasn't
her
face.

She gave a startled little squeak and jumped back; the face in the mirror looked surprised to see her—then stuck thumbs in each ear and waggled its hands at her while making a face. This, of course, with nothing except the face and hands being visible.

“Randolf!” Bella snapped. “Stop that this instant!”

The face flushed, and the hands vanished. “I apologize, Madame, Apprentice. The temptation was overwhelming.”

“Randolf, this is my new Apprentice, Elena,” Madame said next, without moving from her chair. “Elena, this is Randolf, the Slave of the Mirror. I got him from a Dark Sorceress after she was destroyed.”

“And
what
she'd been using me for—!” the face said, rolling its eyes. “What a
bore
! Never allowed to look at things for myself! Every day, it was always the same thing, ‘Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who's—'”

“Well, you get to exercise your powers to the fullest now that you live with me, Randolf,” Madame chuckled. “Show her my afternoon—a precis, if you please.”