Stolen Magic(54)

Ludda-bee burst out, “No one is eating! Eat!” She passed the plate of yellow beans in one direction, the beets in the other.

“The method the thieves used,” Elodie continued as people helped themselves and their neighbors to food, “we have already established. It will be the same whoever they are. The trouble, I mean, difficulty, is that neither knew where the Replica was hidden. Goodman Dror has not been a bee long enough to be told.”

“Another bee may have told him,” Master Tuomo said.

Elodie wished she knew the rest of the bees. She doubted the ones she knew would have told.

Deeter-bee came unexpectedly to her rescue. “Then we would have three thieves, or why else would the bee tell?”


Elodie made an O with her lips and blew a long stream of air. “Three is, er, an unwieldy number.” What to say next? She wanted to deduce about Master Tuomo, but she was afraid of him. “Let us move along to another potential villain . . .” Who? “. . . Lodie’s father’s helper, her friend—”

“Hair and teeth!” Mistress Sirka cried. “Now open your eyes. Open—”

“What happened?” Johan-bee sounded more frightened than glad.

Elodie stepped away from the table to see the high brunka. Everyone else either stood or turned.

“Less than I hoped,” Mistress Sirka said. “She moved her hand and a wee rainbow came out of her thumb. Then the hand dropped back and the rainbow faded.”

“Is that good or bad?” Ursa-bee said.

“Could be either. She may be waking up or sinking deeper.”

“Continue, Mistress Elodie,” Master Uwald said. “I want to satisfy my son and set out.”

Elodie thought, He wants to be off before he can be re-imprisoned.

Albin performed a seated bow. “You were about to accuse me, Lady— I mean, Masteress.”

She sat again. “Indeed. Goodman Albin wanted passage money to rescue my assistant, who in fact needed no succor. Stealing the Replica to realize such a small sum may be likened to killing a flea with a cannon. Nonetheless, he was desperate. In a strange twist of fortune, he won more than enough dicing with Master Uwald, but that occurred after the theft, so—”

“I thought you never lose, Grand.”

Albin spooned beets into Elodie’s bowl. He said, “I believe that Master Uwald was kind enough to lose for my benefit.”

Elodie saw Master Tuomo frown.

Deeter-bee put the frown into words. “Hard to lose on purpose at dicing. The game is pure luck.”

“In truth, Goodman Albin ended my long good luck.” Master Uwald helped himself to a second helping of spiced apples, his eyes on the serving bowl. “These are uncommonly good, Ludda-bee.”

Elodie swallowed a spoonful of warm stew against the chill that ran through her. Master Uwald had just shown two signs of lying. She glanced at Albin and saw him looking at her. He’d noticed, too. Master Uwald hadn’t met Master Robbie’s eyes, and he’d said In truth. Her mansioner training had taught her that whatever followed that phrase was likely to be false. The game with Albin hadn’t been the one that ended his luck. Master Uwald had lost before.

Did that matter?

It mattered if he’d lost Nockess Farm.

How could she accuse Master Uwald?

Albin did it for her. “Mansioners study people so we can play our roles truthfully. Begging your pardon—I think you lied about your loss to me being the first.”

Master Uwald patted his lips with the tablecloth, leaving a lip-shaped, beet-colored stain. “How clever, to turn Mistress Elodie’s accusation away from you.”

Elodie nodded slowly, remembering ITs big head. “I will continue. Like Mistress Sirka and Goodman Dror, Goodman Albin came to the Oase with no knowledge of the whereabouts—”

“Uwald . . .” Master Tuomo’s voice was quieter and more controlled than usual. He half stood to reach across the table and tap Master Uwald’s left hand, which was on his bowl. “Did you lose Nockess in a wager?”

Master Uwald put down his spoon with care. “Certainly not.” But he didn’t meet Master Tuomo’s eyes either.

“Masteress,” Master Robbie said, “I’d like to deduce.”

“Proceed.” Would he help his guardian who loved him? Or would he prove what Elodie now felt certain to be true, that Master Uwald was one of the thieves?

“Yes, son?”

“Master Uwald told me he’d never lost a bet since Grandmother refused him. ‘Lucky in gaming, unlucky not to have her,’ he said. Another time, he said he had her now in me. I deduce he isn’t lucky at gaming any—”

Master Uwald talked over Master Robbie. “I won every wager against your masteress, Mistress Elodie, didn’t I?”

“My sons!” Master Tuomo reached across the table and pulled Master Uwald up by his shoulders. “If you killed them—”

“Tuomo!” Master Uwald cried.

Deeter-bee and another bee pulled Master Tuomo back, although he struggled against them.

Master Uwald whispered, “Your sons are fine.”

“Say again?”

Master Uwald sat slowly with both hands on the table to lower himself. “I sent them to Ilse’s wedding and told them not to tell you. I would never hurt your sons. Robbie, I’m not so bad as that.”