Caught in Crystal: A Lyra Novel (6 page)

Corrana
was
a sorceress of the Sisterhood! Kayl stared blindly out the window at the night, her mind churning. Was it coincidence or deliberate planning that brought Corrana to Copeham? Coincidence, surely; if the Sisterhood had wanted Kayl back, they would not have waited fifteen years to send someone looking for her. Kayl took a deep breath and let it out slowly, counting, then turned away from the window. She made certain that Corrana was satisfied with the meal, noting as she did that the badge of the Sisterhood was once more invisible beneath the sorceress’s hair. Then she went back to her other customers.

As she worked, Kayl watched Corrana surreptitiously. Unanswered questions chased themselves through her mind. Why had Corrana hidden the fact that she was one of the Silver Sisters? And why reveal it now, to Kayl? Corrana must have wanted her to see the clasp, or she would not have worn it at all. Kayl handed a fresh mug to Zia, the seamstress, and gave her a mechanical smile, then glanced at the sorceress again. One week, she thought. She’ll be gone in a week. A week isn’t long.

Corrana did not appear to notice Kayl’s scrutiny. She ate slowly, then rose and ascended the stairs once more. The buzz of conversation grew louder as soon as she was gone. Everyone had some speculation as to who she was, where she had come from, and why she might have chosen to spend a week in Copeham.

Kayl did not participate in the discussion, though she was occasionally tempted. She sifted with care the scraps that came her way, trying to piece together a picture of village opinion. No one else had noticed the badge of the Sisterhood, that much was clear. Her eyes narrowed. Corrana had deliberately allowed Kayl, and only Kayl, to see the clasp she wore. Then Kayl shook her head. She was getting as full of fancies as Mark and Dara.

“Kayl.”

The deep voice behind her made her jump. She turned. Jirod was seated in the corner behind her, a little apart from the rest of the crowd. He was watching her with warm concern. “Good evening, Jirod,” Kayl said. “Need a refill?”

“No,” the man replied, and Kayl realized belatedly that his beer had barely been touched. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Kayl hesitated. She glanced quickly around the room; no arms were raised in summons, and Dara was poised by the counter, ready to answer the next beckoning hand. Hoping her daughter hadn’t noticed whom she was talking to, Kayl said, “I think I can take a short break.”

“I was afraid you were going to say you were too busy,” Jirod said as she took an empty place across from him.

“I am, which means I can use the rest. Mark and Dara can handle things for a little while.”

“You work too hard.”

“Who doesn’t? What did you want to talk to me about?”

Jirod looked down. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“All right?” Kayl said, puzzled.

“Your new guest looks as if she could be a problem.”

Kayl stared at him as comprehension dawned. “Has Dara been talking to you?” she demanded.

“I don’t need a twelve-year-old to point out what’s under my eyes!”

“That’s not what I meant. Oh, never mind. I’m fine, Jirod, and Corrana’s no more a problem than any other noble with more money than sense. In fact, she’s easier to deal with than most of them; she’s quiet and doesn’t expect flame-jugglers and musicians in a town this size.”

“She’s a witch, Kayl.”

“Maybe. But what if she is? She pays good coppers for her board, the same as any other customer.”

Jirod looked at her with a somber expression. “Kayl, you’ve been jumpy all evening. And I saw your face when Mark served her. You were frightened for him. You can’t make me believe that you’d react that way without a reason.”

“I’m fine, Jirod,” Kayl repeated, her lips tightening. “Just fine.”

“All right, then. You know where to find me if that changes.”

Kayl nodded as politely as she could, and rose. There was no point in continuing the conversation. She’d only end up snapping at him for trying to be helpful. “Thank you, Jirod,” she said with as much warmth as she could muster. “But it’s time I was getting back to work.”

As she left the table, she saw Dara glance worriedly in her direction. There were customers at three different tables calling for beer, so it was some time before she had a chance to speak to her daughter. Finally they were both behind the counter at the same time.

“I didn’t say anything to him, Mother,” Dara said in an urgent whisper. “Honest I didn’t.”

“I know that,” Kayl said.

“Oh.” The word held a wealth of relief. “When you got up frowning like that, I was afraid you thought I had.”

“I wasn’t annoyed with you, Dara.”

“Jirod said something wrong?”

“That’s between him and me. The last table on the right wants more stew; see if there’s any left.”

Dara rolled her eyes and left. The evening dragged on interminably. Slowly, the villagers trickled out. Jirod stayed. Kayl avoided his corner, letting Dara and Mark handle the customers on that side of the room, but she was aware of his eyes on her as she worked.

His presence annoyed her; the man acted as though she was a helpless featherhead who needed taking care of. She knew she was being unfair, but it was a relief to be angry at someone. When he left at last, she was washing mugs in a bucket behind the counter. She did not look up from her work until the door had closed behind him.

Finally the last of the villagers departed and the few guests climbed the stairs to their rooms. “Whew!” Mark said, surveying the inevitable litter of dirty plates, crumbs, spilled beer, and half-empty mugs. “What a night!”

Dara flopped down on one of the benches. “Oh, my feet hurt!”

“I’m not surprised,” Kayl said. “There were more people in here than we had the night the Prefect’s son came through.” She fished the last of the coins she’d collected out of the leather pouch sewn inside her belt and added them to the main collection in the heavy wooden box where she kept the night’s receipts. She relocked the box and set it on the counter where she wouldn’t forget to take it with her when she left the serving room.

“How did we do?” Dara said anxiously.

“I haven’t counted up the total yet, but I think we did very well indeed,” Kayl replied.

“I bet it’ll be just as bad tomorrow,” Mark said gloomily.

“You don’t have anything to complain about,” Dara retorted. “You sat in the kitchen most of the night while I was running around the tables.”

“It’s hot in there!” Mark said. “Hot and sticky. And I ran tables, too. Didn’t I, Mother?”

“You both did a wonderful job tonight, and I’m proud of you,” Kayl said. “I’ll finish up down here; you go off to bed. If tomorrow night is anything like this one, you’ll need a good night’s sleep.”

The two children did not wait for a second invitation. They left at once, as though afraid Kayl might change her mind and call them back to sweep floors and clean dishes. Kayl watched them go, then set about clearing up the mess. She let the lamps burn low while she worked. When she finished at last, she put out all but one lamp and sat down by the window. She stared at the thick darkness outside, while the shadows deepened around her. Once she glanced over at the smooth, gray stones of the seldom-used hearth. She half rose, then shook her head and sank back into her seat, and for a long time she did not move. Finally, she rose and started toward the money-box. Halfway across the room, a tingling ran down her spine, the half-forgotten but unmistakable feeling of magic.

Kayl whirled. The room was empty, but the tingling grew stronger. She forced herself to stand motionless, trying to feel the direction from which the sensation was coming. Her head turned. Upstairs. She hesitated, then retrieved the money-box and started forward. She hesitated again beside the lamp, then went on without it.

She moved slowly but surely; she knew every inch of this inn, even in the dark. The tingling grew stronger as she climbed the stairs. Her lips tightened. Demons fly away with Corrana! She had to be behind this; there was no one else in Copeham who knew more than the most basic spells.

Kayl reached the top of the stairs and stopped short. Pale lights flickered across the door of Corrana’s room, like the cold shine of light on the scales of invisible snakes. They were so faint that if she had been carrying a lamp, she would have missed them. The pattern was a warding; Kayl had seen enough of them to recognize it at once, though she herself was no magician. She stared at it, feeling angry and a little frightened. She had a momentary urge to pound on the door, but she suppressed it. Annoying a sorceress, even a minor one, was seldom a good idea, and she had the uncomfortable feeling that Corrana was rather more than minor.

After another moment’s consideration, Kayl turned and went back the way she had come. The warding spell was doing no harm, and it was unlikely that anyone else would notice it. She was climbing into bed, having hidden the money-box in the safety hole beneath it, when the thought struck her. What was Corrana doing that she felt a need to guard her door with spells in a town as small and quiet as Copeham?

K
AYL WAS AWAKENED NEXT
morning by the sound of Mark and Dara squabbling outside her door. She frowned, as much at her own tardiness as at the noise of the quarrel. Normally she was awake well before either of the children. She pulled her under-tunic on hastily and went out to see what the problem was this time.

“There!” Dara said as Kayl approached. “I
told
you she’d wake up if you kept shouting.”

“I wasn’t shouting!” Mark shouted. “You were the one who—”

“Quiet,” Kayl said sternly. “How many times have I told you to be careful in the morning? You’ll wake the guests.”

“That’s what I told him, and he—”

“But Mother, she won’t let—”

“I said, quiet.” Kayl waited a moment, then continued. “Now,
one at a time
please. What’s this all about?”

“He wouldn’t stop—”

“She thinks I—”

“Stop! Dara, suppose you explain your side of it first.”

“We woke up early, so we decided to surprise you and do the morning chores before you got up,” Dara said. “Only Mark wanted to start with taking wash water up to that weird lady who came yesterday.”

“She’s not weird!” Mark interrupted. “She’s a sorceress.”

“How do
you
know she’s a sorceress?” Dara said scornfully.

“Everybody said so!”

Kayl intervened before the battle could resume. “So Mark wanted to carry water up to Corrana’s room. What then?”

“She wouldn’t let me!” Mark burst out.

“It’s too early,” Dara said. “And you can’t go waking up guests just because you’re curious about them.”

“I wasn’t going to wake her up,” Mark said in tones of wounded innocence. “And I wasn’t curious. I just wanted to make sure we did everything right. She’s important.”

“If she’s so important, I should be the one to take the water up,” Dara retorted. “You always spill.”

“I do not!”

“That’s enough,” Kayl said. She looked from Mark to Dara and sighed. It was just like them to plan a pleasant surprise for her and then end up arguing about which of them should do what. And she didn’t care for Mark’s apparent interest in Corrana. She’d have to tread carefully, though; if she simply forbade him to hang about the woman, he would immediately begin thinking up ways to do so anyway. She looked back at Mark. “I’m afraid Dara’s right, Mark; it
is
too early to be carting things up to the rooms. I’m glad you’re worried about giving good service, but I don’t think waking up a guest is the way to impress her.”

“I wasn’t going to—”

“If she’s a light sleeper, you may have done so already,” Kayl said.

Mark frowned rebelliously, but he could hardly deny it after the furious argument had wakened Kayl. “Well, maybe.”

“I think you should draw a jug or two and heat it up over the kitchen fire. Then it’ll be ready as soon as Corrana wakes.”

“Can’t I—”

“No.”

Mark glared at her, trying to decide what his chances were of winning a continued argument. The verdict was apparently not favorable. He turned the corners of his mouth down in a ferocious pout and started for the back door, stomping his feet as hard as he dared.

“Mark!”

“What?” His tone was half-sullen, half-belligerent.

“You will not continue pounding through this inn like an overweight otterlan. Understand?”

“I can do what I want to!”

“And I can find some other way for you to work off your temper. Splitting firewood, for instance.”

Muttering angrily, Mark turned away. “What was that?” Kayl said.

“I said, all right!”

“And don’t bang the door!” Kayl called after him. She listened until he was outside, then looked at Dara.

“I
tried
to tell him,” Dara said defensively before Kayl could say anything. “I really did! But he won’t listen to me. He
never
listens to me.”

“Maybe you should try being a little less dictatorial.”

“But, Mother—”

“Mark doesn’t like being told he’s wrong, particularly by his sister. Try to be a little tactful.”

“With
Mark
! But he’s, he’s…”

“He’s younger than you are, and more impulsive. I don’t expect him to worry about waking the guests up before he starts a shouting match; I do expect it of you.”

“I’m sorry, Mother,” Dara said, flushing.

“You’re old enough to stop and think before you get into things like this.”

Dara looked after Mark, her face thoughtful. “It’s hard to stop and think when Mark’s yelling at me.”

Kayl could not help smiling. “I know, dear. But try, please.”

“All right,” Dara said doubtfully. Kayl gave her a hug and sent her off to start making breakfast. Then she went back into her room to finish getting up. She hoped fervently that the rest of the day was not going to be as difficult as its beginning.

It was worse. Dara burned the porridge and tried to cover the taste with honey and too many herbs; the result was all but inedible. Mark filled his jug to the brim, so that water sloshed over the top as he staggered back to the inn with it. The overflow made the back steps and parts of the hall treacherously slippery. He ended by dropping the jug as he was trying to fill the kettle. Since he had not bothered to move the kettle away from the brick stove, this drowned the fire and set the kitchen awash in ashy gray water.