Stolen Magic(27)

“Alas, yes. I hear the mountain rumbling. Count Jonty Um was flying back to the Oase with information.”

“I can walk, though I’ll be too late.”

“Then stay,” Brunka Arnulf said. “Folks here need you.”

His Lordship felt heat behind his eyes. Fo fum! To be needed! Meenore, he thought, if I could reach you in time, I’d leave. Forgive me for allowing myself to be wounded. Forgive me, Elodie, Nesspa. “I’ll stay.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE



Elodie awoke with no sense of how long she’d been sleeping. The glowworms shone as brightly as ever. She sat up.

Her masteress had said IT would want her in an hour or two. Had that time come? Or passed, and the Replica had been found and she had slept through it? She hoped not, then felt ashamed. Of course she wanted it to be recovered, but she preferred to be there when IT proved ITs brilliance with her penetrating mind helping IT reach ITs conclusions.

Most of all, she hoped His Lordship had come back.

She left the Donkey Room. Before going to the great hall, she could still investigate the other guests’ rooms.

Painted on the door next to the Donkey Room was a parrot with red-and-blue plumage. She eased the door open while trying to think of an excuse in case its tenant happened to be inside.

There was no one, and no need to tarry. Albin slept here. She recognized the room as his because her favorite thing lay atop the bed: his thick book of mansioners’ plays.

The cover was raised a little, and the pages didn’t lie flat. He was always careless with his things. She went to the book, curious to see which play he’d marked. But when she opened it, she didn’t even notice. The marker was a silver coin.

Lambs and calves! How did Albin come to have a silver, which would pay passage for all of them to and from the mainland many times over?

Did she have to mistrust him, too?

Since the room had been searched, she didn’t have to replace the book exactly where it had been. Now she did comb the chamber but found nothing else of interest. Albin’s satchel held only a spare undershirt. His mountain staff leaned against the chest, which proved to be empty.

Back in the corridor, the Stoat Room came next, a bigger chamber with a double bed and a single: Master Uwald and Master Robbie’s quarters. Either the bees who’d searched had turned everything topsy-turvy or Master Uwald, the just-so man, was slovenly. Rich apparel was heaped on the unmade big bed, the pile capped by a single shoe, while its mate rested on the floor. Atop the chest, a backgammon game lay open. Within the chest: nothing.

By contrast, Master Robbie’s bed was neatly made. At the foot, carefully folded and stacked, were three spare undershirts and two spare tunics, everything new, the undershirts silk, the tunics soft linen. The tip of something leather protruded from under the pillow. Elodie went to it and discovered a long knife in a leather sheath.

She, like everyone else, carried a little knife in her purse, for ordinary tasks that might arise, like cutting thread or opening nuts. But why a long knife? For protection? For murder? An inheritance from his grandmother?

Might it have something to do with the Replica?

As she left the room, she wondered what the bees had made of the knife. The Elk Room was Master Tuomo’s. To Elodie’s surprise, a lute lay across the bed. She wouldn’t have guessed angry Master Tuomo to be a musician. In the distance, a clappered bell rang. She stepped out into the empty corridor and heard voices.

“Johan, wait! Don’t you march off! You’d think Marya would trust me to fetch the child alone. I’d trust . . .”

No time to return to her room, but at least they hadn’t caught her in anyone else’s. “Has the Replica been found?” she called.

Johan-bee came into sight first, then Ludda-bee.

“No, not—”

“That dragon hasn’t discovered anything. Girl, I pity you for having to travel with the meddling, sneering monster.”

“IT wasn’t meddlesome with me,” Elodie said mildly.

The three started back toward the great hall.

“Aren’t you the lucky one. But what does a child have for anyone to meddle over?”

In the great hall her masteress was interrogating Master Uwald and Master Robbie—or perhaps not. The two humans were sitting on the floor. IT had lowered ITs head and was leaning on ITs elbows. A thin stream of pink smoke rose—an irritated dragon.

“Mistress Elodie, approach, if you will.”

When she drew close, she saw that IT and Master Uwald were playing Thirty-One. A smiling Master Robbie dealt the cards. Happy to be in Master Uwald’s company or in ITs?

Master Robbie placed two cards faceup and one facedown in front of IT and set the same before Master Uwald.

IT brushed the cards away. “Enough. I cannot part with more books.”


“Masteress,” Master Uwald said, “I was unlucky once in a great affair of the heart. Since then, the cards smile on me. The dice smile on me. I believe the Replica will be found. If not”—he winked—“I can sell your books.” His face became serious. “I hope it’s found, for Tuomo’s sake and the sake of his sons and of our poor workers.”

Serious, Elodie thought, but not anxious.

IT straightened. “Mistress Elodie, come with me. I require your assistance with the dog. Master Robbie, you may be helpful as well. May he accompany us, Master Uwald?”