Stolen Magic (10 page)

“M
istress Elodie, don't . . .”

Even IT touched her arm. “Lodie . . .”

Now she had to make her sadness anyone's sorrow, so it would enter their minds, too. She raised the pitch of her wailing until it became a knife tip of misery, as inescapable as loss and disappointment and sickness and death.

Master Robbie held his hands over his ears and turned away from them, his shoulders shaking. ITs smoke darkened to gray-black, the darkest Elodie had ever seen it. ITs emerald eyes glittered, and a drop of clear liquid fell from one of ITs overhanging fangs.

She fought for composure. Her weeping diminished gradually, as the flower's laughter had. The unhappy
thoughts receded. She could breathe deeply again and look around.

“Astonishing, Elodie. An accomplishment.”

“You did it on purpose?” Master Robbie's question was half accusation.

She nodded. It was a performance she didn't want to repeat.

“You proved the truth of Ursa-bee's account. A harder heart than hers would have found that weeping irresistible. Even I, a dry and leathery creature, could not resist reaching out to comfort you. And if you had not been visible before us, I would have been hard put to locate the source of the sound.”

“Really?”

Master Robbie seemed to have recovered. “You're truly a mansioner.”

Of course she was. But she savored the praise.

IT, however, never lingered on others' achievements. “What else did you discover?”

“Master Robbie told me about the guests and the barber and the bees. He said Mistress Sirka—”

“Permit him to speak for himself.”

Master Robbie retold his information with relish. Under ITs questioning, he divulged more than he had to Elodie. He recalled details about several other bees. One hummed constantly under his breath. Another always smelled of
mint. He reported which was the Oase's spinner, which the weaver, which ones made soap. He ended by saying, “Deeter-bee is the historian, and he can tell you anything about Lahnt.”

“You are Master Uwald's ward, are you not?”

Master Robbie looked startled, but he nodded.

“And this arrangement is not of long standing?”

Master Robbie's hands found the mourning beads. “Just since my grandmother died two weeks ago.” He paused. “But I always knew he would come. If he died before she did, Master Tuomo was to be my guardian. As soon as I was old enough to understand, Grandmother told me I was going to inherit Nockess Farm.”

Elodie clenched her teeth to keep her jaw from falling open. Yet he'd lived in poverty! How strange! He'd been poor with a cloud of wealth hanging over his head, and only tragedy would bring the rain of coins. Couldn't they have arranged it better?

ITs eyebrow ridges furrowed. “Your parents and your grandfather are all dead?”

Master Robbie let the mourning beads go. “Mother and Father died of fever when I was three. Grandfather was a fisherman. Grandmother said he wanted to be rich like Master Uwald, but he died before I was born.”

Elodie's throat tightened in pity.

Masteress Meenore showed no sympathy. “Had you
encountered either Master Uwald or Master Tuomo before your grandmother's demise?”

Master Robbie looked confused. “Her death, Masteress?”

“So I said.”

“No, Masteress. I never met them before.”

Likely that's why he has the knife, Elodie thought. To protect himself from these strangers. She had a sudden idea. “Has High Brunka Marya offered you asylum?”

Master Robbie said yes.

“Are you going to stay?” Elodie leaned forward. “Do you want to be a bee?”

He shook his head sharply. “I won't be a bee.”

Elodie felt relief. Bees led limited lives, as she saw it.

And they couldn't marry, although that thought came and went so quickly, she hardly noticed it.

“But I may stay. I haven't decided.”

“Master Robbie, is Master Uwald aware of this offer of refuge?”

“I don't think so, Masteress.”

“High Brunka Marya is a veritable pied piper to lure away a child. It is pernicious, this brunka habit of deciding what is best for everyone.” IT blew a puff of pink smoke. “Lodie, did you think to ask Master Robbie about asylum because the same had been proposed to you?”

She nodded. “From my parents and you.”

The pink darkened to an outraged red. “She would deprive you of
me
?”

Master Robbie blinked in surprise, then smiled.

Elodie seized the opportunity. “She must have noticed that you often mistreat me by calling me
Lodie,
though my name is Elodie.” Nervously, she added,
“
Enh enh enh
.”

ITs smoke whitened.
Enh enh enh.
“And why refuge from your parents?”

She explained.

“Mmm.” IT returned to Master Robbie. “Do you suppose Nockess Farm would still be yours should you remain here?” IT was thinking aloud. “Who would own the farm if you became a bee?”

“I'm not going to be—”

“Answer my question.”

“Maybe the brunkas. Maybe Master Tuomo.”

“Presumably Master Tuomo has known for years that he will not inherit Nockess Farm. Can you confirm that, Master Robbie?”

“No one said.”

“Is he pleasant to you?”

“He doesn't seem angry. He was often angry at his horse on our way here. He kicked it and used the whip, but he was kind to me in a gruff way.”

“Mmm. He may not have made his true ire known. Expecting events to happen—your grandmother's death,
your becoming Master Uwald's ward—and the events' occurrence differ vastly. One may think oneself reconciled and find oneself enraged instead. If it were not that Master Tuomo's sons are on Zertrum, he would be my favorite suspect.”

“But he didn't know where the Replica was kept,” Elodie said.

“He may have. Many others did: all the brunkas as well as the bees presently living here and those who formerly did. Knowledge may be bought. Even a brunka may have a price.”

Master Uwald might have bought the information, too, Elodie thought, but he'd lose his farm. “What did Goodwife Lilli say about Master Uwald?”

IT said, “Her name was Lilli?”

Master Robbie nodded.

“After the flower, the roots of which I have often enjoyed roasted and salted. Did Goodwife Lilli prepare you for the day that has now arrived?”

“She hadn't seen him in many years. She said he had been a kind
boy
.” He grinned. “A boy! Not tall and strapping such as she preferred—she laughed when she said that. But she didn't say much. Grandmother didn't like to talk about the past.”

“Did she tell you how to comport yourself as a rich boy?”

He laughed. “She said I should never miss the chance to kick a servant down the stairs. I should insist that tasks be done in half the time required. She made me practice wagging my finger and raising my eyebrows.” He demonstrated.

Enh enh enh.

Elodie smiled although she felt sad.

“She said Master Uwald—my guardian . . .” He turned to Elodie and shrugged. “I don't know what to call him.”

She wanted to pat his shoulder but contented herself with looking sympathetic.

“How does he wish to be called?”

“Granduncle or just Grand, Masteress, but it feels strange.”

Grand
by itself sounded grandiose to Elodie.

“He's not my uncle.” Master Robbie spoke with his head down, squeezing his hands together. “He says he lo— cares about me, says he has ever since Grandmother wrote to him to tell him that my parents had died and I existed.”

“Nine years,” IT said, “if she wrote soon after their deaths. Enough time for affection to swell. Whether Master Uwald's feeling is true or imagined will be proven in time.”

Elodie found this dry logic comforting.

Master Robbie raised his head. “Grandmother said Granduncle might be better than most rich people, but he was still a dicer and a wagerer.”

“Do you agree?” IT leaned in toward Master Robbie, ITs flat eyes a deeper green than usual. “Is he better?”

“I guess so. He never mistreated his horse. Soon after we came here, he told Ludda-bee and Dror-bee not to tease Johan-bee. They didn't listen, but it was kind of him to try. And he's been talking to Johan-bee. I think he's helping him learn to speak up and teaching him backgammon.”

“He has true sympathy,” Elodie said.

IT sniffed.

Elodie asked, “Has he done much betting?”

“When I played queets he bet on me.” Master Robbie's nose pinkened again. “He never lost.”

IT snorted, and Elodie wondered how many of ITs books Master Uwald had won.

Master Robbie continued. “He wagered on anything: how soon the innkeeper would bring our meal, what the weather would be, which room the high brunka would put us in. But he didn't put money on everything. Sometimes it was more like guessing or predicting.”

Elodie's attention wandered. She was impatient to tell IT about Master Uwald's messy bed and about the other rooms she'd entered, but Master Robbie's knife was one of her discoveries, and he probably wouldn't like being spied on. So, hoping to somehow escape his anger, she began indirectly. “Did the bees find anything in the guests' chambers that gave you a hint, Masteress?”

“The high brunka said nothing of import had been discovered.”

“Was anything found among the bees' things?” Elodie asked.

IT twitched ITs tail. “I have not been told their possessions were gone through. Lodie, ask the high brunka about the results.”

“Has anyone searched here?” Master Robbie asked.

“Two bees came before dawn. Their visit—”

“Masteress, will the bees—”

“Do not interrupt, Lodie. What is it?”

“Will the bees even recognize a clue when they see one? Wouldn't it be wonderful if someone who was trained by a masteress could search?” Elodie doubted even IT was intelligent enough to understand her hint, so she added, “In secret.”

ITs smoke turned rosy. “Master Robbie, Nesspa would benefit from exercise. I am sure you can find a rope to hold him, or otherwise he may attempt to seek his master.”

How quick ITs understanding is! Elodie thought proudly.

Master Robbie slid off his stool. His gaze went from IT to Elodie, and she knew he realized he was being sent away. He tied a rope to Nesspa's collar and left.

“Lodie, I hope you did not search the guests' rooms.”

“I did! I thought you'd want me to.”

“I? A dragon with a secret hoard? Which you had the good sense not to invade when you were alone in my lair.”

She felt ashamed. “But the high brunka—”

“The high brunka informed her guests of the search, which you did not have the grace to do.”

Elodie blinked back tears, but she still thought she'd been right to investigate.

ITs smoke whitened gradually. “Tell me what you discovered.”

She shrugged. “Not so much.”

“Do not compound your error by wasting it.”

“I wouldn't even have looked in Albin's room if I had known it was his. I found a silver. A silver!”

“If you were determined to pry, you were correct to pry everywhere.”

“He shouldn't have a silver!”

“I will keep his wealth in mind. It is suggestive, but he may have obtained the coin quite recently and reasonably. You must ask him.”

“But he'll know how I know.” And feel hurt.

“Injured feelings are of no concern to us. We will not be able to evaluate the significance of the silver until we understand how he came by it. Come, Lodie. He is your friend. If he is innocent, I suppose you would like him to continue in that capacity.”

“I trusted him!”

ITs tone softened. “Perhaps you still may. His answer will reveal whether or not you can. What else?”

“Master Uwald, for all his just-so looks, scatters his things hither and yon. He is beyond untidy. Master Robbie, the reverse. His bed was neatly made.”

“Master Robbie is unaccustomed to servants.”

She whispered, “Master Robbie keeps a long knife under his pillow.”

“He feels endangered. I pity him. I suggest you confess to Master Robbie, too.”

“I can't!”

“I am embarrassed for you.”

She swallowed hard.

“You must. Of all the humans here, I have determined he alone merits our trust. We should deserve his.”

She nodded, dreading his return.

“What else did you find?”

“Master Tuomo's chamber was in order. He plays the lute.”

“Did you hear him play it?”

“No, but he brought it with him.”

“Likely he plays it, but assume nothing.”

“Yes, Masteress.”

Master Robbie returned with Nesspa. “He ate snow!”

The dog nuzzled Elodie, making her skirt wet. She felt
undeserving of even his affection. He trotted off toward the back of the stable.

“Lodie?”

She confessed to Master Robbie, although she didn't mention the knife, just that she'd been in their chamber.

His lips formed a thin, angry line. He looked away from her and said nothing.

She wished she knew what he was thinking.

“Mistress Sirka's room, Lodie?”

“I didn't have time to go in.”

“I've been there.” Master Robbie took his place on the stool again. He still avoided Elodie's eyes.

They waited expectantly.

“She and I played queets in the great hall. Granduncle staked me with three coppers, and I won every game. I saw she hated to give me her coins, and I wanted to see a barber-surgeon's tools, so she paid me by showing me.”

How kind of him, Elodie thought.