The Wizard Returns: Book Three of the Wizard Born Series (33 page)

“Mrs. Tully, please don’t tell Jamie about the sewers,” Fred asked.

“Why not?”

“Just...don’t.”

Fred heard the clatter of hooves, and Mrs. Tully led them out of the way of a black-lacquered carriage, pulled by two fine black horses, luggage strapped to the top. The driver and the footman were impeccably dressed in burgundy livery and polished black boots, and the curtains were closed over the windows. Fred and the others stepped onto the sidewalk and Mrs. Tully said, “Looks like Mrs. Crane has been to visit her daughter again.”

“Does she live in one of the big houses?” Melanie asked.

“One of the biggest.”

A few shops lined the sidewalk of the next block, most of them two-story with balconies, each with a wooden sign hanging overhead. Brinna gestured at one and said, “Many shop owners live above their businesses.”

“But you don’t, right?” Fred said.

“No, I have a home just north of town. I rent out part of the upstairs of my shop to a boarder and use the rest for storage.”

By this part of their journey, the shops had become numerous and the street broader, with the occasional rider on horseback passing by. A number of pedestrians were out, too, and several of them stared openly at Fred and Melanie.

The next four-way intersection was the broadest they’d encountered, and the buildings grew closer together. Mrs. Tully motioned to the street on their right and said, “That’s the river road. It runs north to the bridge and on to Paulsbury. The other road goes south toward Stillshire.”

“This is the main business district,” Brinna said. “My shop is on the far end.”

Main Street was bustling with people, horses and carriages. Large wooden carts, some with bright-colored canopies, lined the curb, while their owners hawked their wares. “This is where Ma buys her vegetables,” Brinna said.

“But not ’till last, today,” Mrs. Tully said. “Don’t want to carry them any longer than I have to.”

“So what kind of shops do you have here, besides yours?” Evelyn asked. “Some of them don’t appear to be to be open.”

“Some close on Sunday, like mine. Let me think which ones are open today.” Brinna put one finger to her lip. “There’s a dress shop right here on this corner, and —”

“Oh!” Fred said. “Let’s go there first!”

“Fred?” Evelyn said. “Do you really think you’re going to find something you can wear?”

Melanie shook her head. “Not unless you want to look like you’re from the
Little House on the Prairie
TV show.”

Fred pressed her lips together. “Well, we can at least look at the dresses through the windows, can’t we?”

“What other shops are there, Brinna?” Evelyn asked.

“Let’s see...there’s a men’s clothing store, a jewelry store, a clock shop, a hat shop —”

“This is almost like Main Street in Hendersonville,” Evelyn said, “minus the cars and traffic lights.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Fred paused and peered through the front window of the dress shop they were passing.

“Are you hungry?” Brinna said, walking toward a cart with a faded blue canopy. Fred and Melanie followed, and when they neared it, Fred saw the burly, mustachioed proprietor dip a pair of tongs into a metal bucket at his feet, retrieve a red-hot coal, and drop it into a small opening. That was when she noticed the steam escaping from other hatches on the top.

“What is he selling? Fred asked, hurrying to catch up.

“Sausages on a bun,” Brinna said, over her shoulder. She offered a coin to the proprietor, who wore a dingy white apron over his wide belly.

“It smells good,” Melanie said as they watched the portly man hand a bun with a large sausage to Brinna, then Mrs. Tully ordered one.

Fred and Melanie also got one each, and they ate them while standing under the wide canvas awning of Mrs. Trevor’s Fine Hats. “Brinna! Mrs. Tully!” Fred heard the deep voice from somewhere behind her, and turned to see a stout, well-dressed man walking their way. He wore rich gray trousers and matching coat over a crisp white shirt, and his short boots were polished to a glossy shine. His hat was centered on his graying head, and he carried a black walking cane with a silver handle and tip.

Mrs. Tully turned her back to him and scowled. Brinna said quietly to Fred and Melanie, “It’s Mayor Duncan.”

“Hello, ladies. How are you this fine day?” he said when he reached them, doffing his hat as he spoke. “I don’t believe I know your lovely companions.”

Brinna mechanically introduced everyone, and he kissed each of their hands as she said their names. Fred almost laughed aloud when Melanie surreptitiously wiped the back of her hand on her pants.

“You’re not from our fair town, I gather,” he said to Fred and Melanie.

“Ever the sharp-eyed one, Mayor Duncan,” Mrs. Tully said drily.

The sarcasm seemed to sail right past him. “You aren’t dressed in the fashion of Rivershire ladies. You wearing, um, men’s pants, it would seem.”

“It’s the style where we’re from,” Evelyn said, her arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

“And where would that be?”

“We’re from another world,” Melanie said.

“We’re staying at Renn’s old house,” Fred added.

“Oh,” he said slowly, bobbing his head as it sank in. “Is it true what people are saying, that the new master there killed Renn?” Fred nodded and he said, “I must stop by some time and talk to him about some business propositions.” He eyed Fred and Melanie more closely and rubbed his chin. “One of you must be the new witch I’ve been hearing so much about. I’ve heard she is young and quite fair.”

“I’m the witch,” Fred said, standing stiffly.

“Well, you’ve caused quite a stir amongst the young ladies about town, you have. I’m sure they’re happy to see you here.”

“We met some already.” Fred decided not to tell him who. She wanted him to go away. She could tell from the looks on Brinna and Mrs. Tully’s faces that they felt the same way. Even Evelyn seemed cold.

Maybe it was because Fred already knew that Mrs. Tully didn’t like the man, but Fred couldn’t help thinking that he seemed like a stereotype, a character from a play about a pompous politician.
All he needs to do now is to remind us to vote for him in the next election, and the image will be complete
. She fought the urge to wipe her hand, too.

When no one from their group offered any more small talk, he cleared his throat, tipped his hat, and said goodbye. He walked away, and when he was out of earshot, Brinna said, “I thought he would never leave.”

“Me too,” Fred said. “Let’s go see your shop.”

Chapter 25

Jamie, Rollie, and Bryce were finishing up their lunch of ham sandwiches when the bedroom door creaked open and a shy-looking little boy stepped out, still wearing Rollie’s T-shirt.

“You’re awake already?” Jamie glanced at his watch. “It’s not even noon yet. Did you get enough sleep?”

Aiven nodded and Rollie said, “You hungry?” Aiven nodded again.

Bryce put one finger to his Adam’s apple. “Did you leave your voice box in the bed?”

Aiven smiled timidly and mumbled, “No, sir.”

Rollie stood and picked up his paper towel and empty glass from the table. “We can make you a sandwich. You like ham?”

Aiven nodded again and Bryce also got up, shaking his head. “We oughta give him some peanut butter. Bet he’s never had that before.” Aiven’s brow furrowed and Bryce added, “You’re gonna love it.” He headed toward the kitchen and said over his shoulder, “Peanut butter sandwich with grape jelly. Doesn’t get much better than that.”

Aiven looked at Jamie, obviously needing reassurance, and Jamie said, “He’s right. I practically grew up on those.”

“Me too,” Rollie said, opening the little refrigerator. “I think he needs some milk with that. Bryce, bring a glass, will you?” Rollie paused and narrowed one eye. “Jamie, you think we’re gonna run out of milk? I mean, we got a kid here. He needs lots of it, and we only brought enough for us.”

“Maybe Mrs. Tully can bring some, since she’s got a cow. Aiven’s probably more used to fresh milk anyway.”

Bryce returned with an empty plastic glass and a sandwich on a paper towel. He set them in front of Aiven, who had joined Jamie at the table. Rollie poured the milk, then he and Bryce stood nearby with eager faces.

Jamie looked up at them and said, “Uh, I kinda need to have a little talk with him right now. Just me and him? Okay?”

Rollie grunted and picked up another magic book. “C’mon, Bryce. Let’s get back to the grind.”

“Let’s take ’em outside and read,” Bryce said. “It’s too nice a day to sit in here.” He turned to Jamie. “Where’s the other lawn chair?”

“In the cellar with the rest of our stuff.”

Bryce went downstairs and returned a moment later with the folded up chair. He shifted it under his arm and reached for a magic book from a nearby stack, and something round and bright green fell out and bounced on the floor with a few thumps. Bryce picked it up. “Hey, a tennis ball. Musta’ gotten folded up in the chair last time you used it.”

Bryce lobbed it softly to Aiven, who made a clumsy attempt to catch it, but it bounced off his hands and nearly knocked over his glass of milk before dribbling back onto the floor.

“Hmph.” Bryce frowned and shook his head at Aiven. “Board hands. We’ll have to work on that.” He turned to Rollie. “Let’s go.”

Jamie’s friends left by the back door, and Jamie turned to Aiven and pointed at the sandwich. “You gonna eat that or not?”

Aiven grinned sheepishly again and took a big bite, then smiled with his blue-gray eyes as he chewed.

“Good, isn’t it?” Jamie said. “I’ve eaten about a million of them.” He gestured with one thumb toward the backyard. “Those two guys, Rollie and Bryce, they’re my best friends. The guy with the dark skin is Rollie. I’ve known him almost my whole life.”

Aiven swallowed and said, “Rollie has some power. I can tell.”

“Yes, he does. He doesn’t want to use it, though. But that’s a long story. I’ll tell you some other time. Have you ever seen anybody with skin that dark before?”

“A man used to work on my uncle’s farm sometimes. He brought his family during harvest season.”

“Okay. The other guy, Bryce, has been my friend a pretty long time, too. We run track and cross country together.” Aiven gave him a puzzled look and Jamie said, “We race together...as a team, against other schools...other teams.”

“Oh.”

“It’s fun.” Aiven didn’t look so sure, so Jamie added, “You’ll have to take my word for it.” Jamie regarded Aiven as he took another huge bite, and said, “I guess I should tell you my story while you eat. You’re probably wondering how I came to be a sorcerer.”

Jamie told him the Reader’s Digest version of his life, going all the way back to Eddan’s time, right before the old sorcerer got attacked and wounded by Renn. Jamie explained how he first realized he had power, back when he was eight years old. He described a couple of the talent shows, which Aiven seemed to find amusing, and he told him about his battle with Renn.

“And you killed him with your magic?” Aiven said. He pointed one finger and made a
zing
sound, grimacing menacingly. “Like that?” Then he took a big drink of milk, eyes wide and fixed on Jamie.

Jamie laughed. “Not exactly, but I like your sound effects better.” He told the boy how Fred learned of her powers, and how she was kidnapped by the two witches. He finished by telling him about the demon and their search for a way to deal with it.

“So that’s why we’re here, Aiven. We’re hoping that somewhere in all of these books is a detailed account of how to deal with demons. It’s also why I can’t really be your master, but Mrs. Tully has agreed to take you on as a boarder, and I’ll pay for it, so you won’t be homeless.” He held up one finger. “Here’s what we can do in the meantime. Since I don’t really have time to train you, and you’re too young anyway, you can start reading these magic books while you’re here. You can read, can’t you?”

“Some. My aunt taught me.”

“Good. Now tell me about your magic. What can you do? Can you translocate yourself, or objects?”

“What’s translocate?”

Jamie focused on the nearly empty milk glass and it vanished, then it reappeared at the other end of the table. “Like that. Can you do it?”

Aiven shook his head, and Jamie scratched his chin. “Well, how about flying?” Aiven said no again. “Making doorways? Or starting fires with magic, or growing plants really fast, or...?” When he saw the look on his face, Jamie knew the boy couldn’t do any of those things. “Well, what
can
you do?”

“I can move things a little. Really light things, like a feather.”

Jamie gestured at that paper towel sitting on the table in front of Aiven. “How about that?”

Aiven stared at it intently. The paper towel quivered for a moment, then rose an inch before settling back down.

Jamie sighed. “Well, it’s a start. Like I said, you’re a little young for this.”

“How old was Eddan when he started as an apprentice?”

“Older than you. Fourteen or fifteen.”

“Oh.” His face fell.

“Don’t let it worry you. You’re just getting an early start.” Jamie nodded. “So, what else can you do? Anything?”

“I’m really good with horses.”

“Oh yeah? I’m really good with dogs, myself. Never spent any time with horses.”

“I can get a horse to do
anything
. My uncle used to take me with him when he had to do horse trading. I can tell right off if a horse is a good one or not.” He seemed quite proud of himself.

“I believe you. I’d like to see you in action sometime.” Then Jamie had an idea. “Hey, uh...how much does a horse cost here?”

“Depends on the horse. Hold old it is, what kind of condition it’s in.” He counted on his fingers. “And what kind of horse you want, a plow horse, or one to pull a carriage. Or a fancy riding one that a rich person might buy.”

“How about a normal horse for riding to your job or to see your friends or whatever? Nothing extravagant.”

“Hmm....” His small brow wrinkled thoughtfully. “Maybe five or six silvers, if you bargain right.” He shrugged. “Why?”

“I want to buy a horse.” Jamie felt excited, the more he thought about it. “Right now. We’ll consider it a test of your ability. Are you up to it?”