Stolen Magic(60)

High Brunka Marya opened her purse and produced the coins.

Albin asked, “How much of this will Elodie receive, Masteress?”

Elodie squeezed her hands together; she thought she deserved a portion.

ITs smoke tinted a delicate pink. “None. I pay her a salary.”

The high brunka tucked her purse back under her cloak. “I’ll go with you when you leave the Oase.”

At gale speed, IT deduced her meaning. “You must not cease to be the high brunka.”

Elodie blinked in surprise.

“I failed in the most important thing.”

“You learned humility. The next high brunka will not have.”

Elodie thought, IT has no humility!

“I’ll think about what you say.”

“There is a point upon which you can satisfy me,” IT said. “It is my theory that you could not maintain your rainbow over the door for years or even weeks.”

A rainbow fluttered out of High Brunka Marya’s hand.

It was true! The high brunka was a mansioner, too!

IT pushed ITs bowl away. “I further contend that you made your claim to force the thieves to expose themselves, and the bumps on your head are proof of your success.”

The high brunka’s smile widened, but she didn’t answer.

“I have eaten my fill, and now, Madam, I should like to see the Replica. Please bring the pedestal as well so there is no danger of a fresh disaster on Zertrum.”

The high brunka left the great hall with four of her bees.

“Elodie, what do you deduce from this?”

She knew instantly and was shocked. “High Brunka Marya is willing for at least four bees to know where the Replica is hidden.” How could she be careless again?

“Precisely.”

While she was gone, His Lordship stood and stepped away from the table. Ludda-bee and another bee cleared the meal, and several other bees dismantled the table.

High Brunka Marya returned holding the Replica. The four bees carried the heavy marble pedestal between them.

“Unite the pedestal and the Replica, if you please.”

They did.

“Ah. Beautiful,” IT said, “and the workmanship is superb.”

Elodie admired the Replica anew. The whole sculpture was no more than nine inches long, three or four inches wide, solid gold, curved as Lahnt was curved, spired with Lahnt’s seven mountains in a line. The beauty lay not so much in the gold or even in the jewels that ran along the mountainous spine, but in the detail: the cliffs and crags marked with thin lines of rock fissures, the tiny evergreen forests, the specks of boulders.

“Masteress?” Elodie touched Zertrum on the Replica. “Do you think the real mountain is different now from the way it is here?”

“Mmm. It cannot—”

“Let me see, lamb.” The high brunka leaned in close. “Bees and ants! The Replica is altered. The mouth of the volcano is flatter, and right here there used to be a forest.” She pointed.

“What about the south slope?” Master Tuomo said, coming to stand next to her. “Can you see where Nockess was?”

“I can’t tell, dear.”

“Fascinating,” IT said.

Bees and guests crowded close to see.

IT tapped a claw impatiently on ITs elbow. “Step away, if you please.”

Only the high brunka hesitated.

“If you do not trust me now, Madam, you have learned nothing.”

She backed away.

Flames flickered about ITs snout. IT aimed a jet of white fire at the base of the Replica.

Elodie deduced what IT was about: saving Lahnt forever.

“Is IT . . .” Master Robbie whispered in her ear.

She smiled at him. “I think so.”

After a minute IT turned the pedestal while continuing to flame, until the fire had licked the base of the Replica all around.

Finally IT swallowed ITs flame. “High Brunka Marya, Lahnt no longer needs to hide the Replica, and you can never again be indiscreet about its location. It is now inseparable from its base. Zertrum is safe for perpetuity. You may thank me.”





CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR



The morning after His Lordship and Masteress Meenore returned to the Oase, they left again, along with Elodie, Albin, Nesspa (who would protect his master from the Potluck Farm cat), Master Tuomo, Mistress Sirka, and Goodman Dror. Mistress Sirka was going to help her beloved set up as a peddler, and they were to be wed.

The afternoon before they left, Goodman Dror explained his change of heart to High Brunka Marya in the great hall. Elodie hovered nearby to listen, in case she might someday mansion an excitable character who never knew her own mind and was easily influenced.

“I thought you loved being a bee,” the high brunka said. “I’m sorry to lose you.”

“You are?”

Mistress Sirka, standing at his side, prompted, “You didn’t like it that High Brunka Marya could stop you from helping farmers. Bees have to listen to brunkas.”

“That’s right. Mistress Sirka says a peddler is his own master.”

Elodie hid her smile. The husband of a barber-surgeon who dispensed love potions would not be his own master.

“And you adore me,” she reminded him.

He nodded. “Yes, I do.”