The Thinking Woman's Guide to Real Magic (8 page)

“They've tried before, and nothing. And it would take years for them to multiply.”

“If they did, you'd have far worse problems than a few lost cattle.”

“That may be, but if we keep her, Ilissa and her people will be swarming out of their lands and into mine in a day's time. This girl's a tempting little thing, but I'm not prepared for a war just now.”

“You'd have my assistance, of course.”

“Yes, I know.” Lukl folded his arms across his breastplate. “And I'm grateful for your help today and every other time you've come. But no, I won't risk it. Let the Now Jarsians come rescue their own girl. She wants to go back to her damnable bridegroom, anyway. You heard her.”

“I doubt she understands the reality of her situation.”

“They never do,” Lukl said with a shake of his head.

The tall man wheeled around and came back over to Nora. Taking hold of her chin and tipping it up, he looked at her steadily for a long minute. His eyes, meeting hers, were pale as ice water; Nora wanted to look away, but couldn't. Still holding her chin, he pulled her head from side to side, glancing into each of her ears, and then pushed her head up and looked quickly into her nostrils, too. It was like being examined by a doctor, but there was something disturbing about it, too, as though he were seeing things that no doctor could see. Taking off his right glove, he touched his finger to her temple and held it there until Nora suddenly had to close her eyes, the light was so bright. Nodding as if satisfied, he removed his finger, and Nora could see again.

“What did you do to me?” she demanded, still squinting.

“How many legs does a horse have, Mistress Nora?” he asked.

“What?” she said, incredulous.

“A horse. Like those horses over there,” he said, with a jerk of his head.

She spat out the answer. “Four.”

“What color is your dress?”

Nora looked down at her skirt. “Blue.”

“How many legs does a horse have?”

She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it when she realized that there was nothing to come out. “I don't know,” she said finally.

“How many legs does a horse have?”

Nora looked over at the horses, who were standing side by side, their reins held by the youngest of the soldiers. “I don't know.”

“How do you feel now, Mistress Nora?”

She felt helpless and scared, and any minute now she might burst into tears, but she was trying her hardest not to let these men see that. “I'm cold, I'm very cold,” she said as loudly and fiercely as she could. “Why is it so cold? It's summer.”

The tall man fixed her with his nearly colorless eyes. “It's cold because it's the middle of winter. The eighth day of the second month, to be exact. So you want to go back to Ilissa and your fiancé?”

“Yes.
He
said I could go,” she said, nodding toward Lukl.

“Do you realize that you have several very powerful enchantments on yourself? That your mind and body—and your heart,” he said, raising one black eyebrow, “have all been reshaped and rearranged and adapted to someone else's liking? I discern at least four major spells on you strong enough to bind a regiment, plus a half-dozen smaller ones—which are probably just to make you sit up straighter or to turn your eyes a different color or whatever happened to strike Ilissa's fancy.”

“That's absurd! What are you talking about? I feel fine. Except a minute ago, when you confused me somehow. I don't know what you did to me, but if I'm under any kind of spell, you must have put it there.

“Of course, there's no such thing as magic spells, anyway,” she added.

The tall man smiled, his mouth as taut as a wire. “I have put no spells on you, other than performing a few simple tests for enchantment. I have no idea, Mistress Nora, what manner of person you were before you were put under these spells, but if you're a girl of any cleverness whatsoever, you might wonder why people who profess to be your friends would subject you to their magic—and so much of it.”

Nora shook her head. “I feel fine,” she said again. “Nothing's wrong with me. In fact, I feel better and happier than I ever have been in my entire life.”

“That's what Ilissa wants you to think. But that much magic is dangerous. Eventually it will wreck your health, or drive you out of your mind, or both.” He paused for a moment, watching her narrowly. “And your prospective husband—”

“What about him?” said Nora.

“How much do you know about him?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“It's usually a good idea to know more about the man that you're going to marry than that he has a handsome face and a charming manner.”

“Raclin is none of your business.” Obviously he knew something of Raclin, even if only by repute, but these insinuations were stupidly misguided. She and Raclin had a bond that couldn't be explained to a rude, prying stranger or put into words at all. There are things that you know about a person as soon as you look into his eyes or touch his hand, and what more do you really need to know? she thought.

Deep inside her mind, another thought stirred feebly.
This man is right, though. Just how long have I known Raclin?
Weeks? Months?
Long enough, she told herself.

“Raclin is very much my business, unfortunately,” said the tall man. “I don't know how much of this will make sense to you, in your befuddled state, but let me tell you this. Raclin has a much less attractive side, a very dangerous side. No woman in her right mind would want to be married to him.”

His tone was so serious that Nora felt a chill in spite of herself, but she drew herself up, shaking off her momentary doubt. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“He didn't accompany you today, did he? Do you have any idea why?”

“Raclin has a lot of responsibilities. He helps Ilissa. Sometimes he's very busy.” Her words sounded childish and inadequate. She tried to be stinging: “He has to protect all of us. I didn't know before today what kind of enemies Ilissa and Raclin have, but now I do.”

“Indeed,” the tall man said. Even in that one word Nora could hear the cold edge of anger. One of his shoulders, a fraction higher than the other, twitched under the black cloak.

“That's enough,” Lukl said suddenly. “It's hopeless. You heard her. We might as well let her go.”

The tall man took a step away from Nora, raised his head, and looked around, scanning the sky and the horizon. Strands of long dark hair blew across his face as he turned his head. “One of Ilissa's people is walking this way,” he remarked. “He's on the other side of that hill. He's coming to parley for her release.”

“I thought you said you had a protection spell up,” Lukl said irritably.

“Oh, it's taking everything he has to make his way through my spell. He's in no condition to fight.”

“Well, he can take her,” Lukl said. “Good riddance.”

“Thank you,” Nora said to him. Lukl looked at her and then away again.

The tall man said to her, “You don't know what you're going back to.”

“I don't know who you all are, except that your men kidnapped me, and then you insulted me and my fiancé and kept me here against my will!” she said.

“My apologies,” he said. “We failed to introduce ourselves properly. This is the Lord Luklren, the twelfth earl of the Northern Border, the master of these lands. It was his soldiers who met you and, as you say, kidnapped you. And I am the magician Aruendiel.” He paused as though his name would have some meaning for her, but she looked at him blankly.

“If you're determined to go back to Ilissa and her brood, then by all means, go,” he went on. “Obviously, you're in no state to listen to reason. But I will tell you two things that might be of some use to you, if you can contrive to remember them. First, Ilissa and her people can't tell lies to you. Not directly, anyway. They can refuse to answer your questions, they can distract you, they can fob you off by saying something that's completely unrelated to what you asked, but they can't tell you a deliberate untruth.”

The information was not what Nora had expected. She tried to make sense of what he had said. She couldn't remember Ilissa or Raclin or any of the others ever lying to her. But why would they want to? “I don't believe you. They don't lie because they have no reason to lie.”

“I didn't say they don't lie,” he said with a harsh laugh. “I said they can't tell you lies. Words are the only way that they
don't
lie. Second, I'm giving you a token that may be of value.” Opening his cloak, he pulled something small and gray from inside his left sleeve and handed it to Nora. She took it and looked at it curiously. A tiny feather. “If you find yourself in danger, you can use that to call on my assistance.”

She opened her fingers. The wind caught the gray feather and twirled it away.

Aruendiel dipped his head in an ironic half-bow. “As you will. Well, your ordeal is almost over. I see your friend approaching.”

Nora turned to see Vulpin walking slowly toward them, his green cloak a fresh daub of color against the dry, frozen grassland. He looked very pale and seemed a size smaller than when Nora had last seen him. She ran over to him, calling his name.

“Nora, are you all right?” Vulpin grasped her hand and looked into her face, squinting a little.

“Yes, I'm fine, now that you're here. These awful men kidnapped me, but they say I can go now. I think they're afraid of Ilissa.”

“That's good,” Vulpin muttered. “I have a message to deliver first, though.” He walked over to the other men. Nora followed, keeping a little behind him.

“The Most Gracious Lady Ilissa, Queen of the Faitoren, sends her greetings to the Lord Luklren and Lord Aruendiel,” Vulpin said, his eyes slightly glassy. “It is her understanding that Lady Nora, a guest in her home and the intended bride of Lord Raclin, has become subject to a most brutal and unwelcome seizure and made an unwilling prisoner by Lords Luklren and Aruendiel. Lady Ilissa is highly displeased. She demands the immediate return of the Lady Nora, unharmed in every way, accompanied by no fewer than five hundred cows and one thousand sheep, as recompense for this heinous crime, which is a serious violation of the truce between her people and yours.

“If the Lady Ilissa's conditions are not met, she will take this as a sign for the commencement of hostilities, and the people of the Northern Border will be destroyed, their children enslaved, their crops burned, their houses smashed, and their animals seized by the armed fury of the Faitoren.” Vulpin bowed deeply and then straightened, swallowing hard. He looked as though he were trying not to throw up.

Aruendiel laughed shortly and was about to speak when Luklren cleared his throat and folded his arms.

“Greetings to Lady Ilissa,” Luklren said, narrowing his one good eye. “I am returning, ah, Lady Nora to her, unharmed, untouched in every way, as I'm sure her appearance and testimony will bear out. She was found wandering on my lands and was taken into custody purely as a precaution. I regret any unease that her absence might have caused, but I would like to remind Lady Ilissa that the Faitoren themselves are in serious violation of the truce by their repeated theft of cattle, sheep, and deer belonging to myself and the people of the Northern Border. I trust that Lady Ilissa will commit herself to better abiding by the truce in the future, including respecting our mutual border and ceasing these raids on my livestock.”

“Finished, Lukl?” Aruendiel asked. When the other man nodded, he stepped forward with an awkward twist of his body and touched Vulpin lightly on the cheek.

Vulpin drew back. Nora gasped as his face changed—his nose and mouth thrusting forward to form a blunt, wrinkled snout, yellow tusks erupting along his lower jaw. His ears were suddenly larger and more pointed, covered with a reddish down. More fur—thicker, bristly—sprouted on his forehead and cheeks. His head sank as his frame collapsed a foot in height; Nora found herself looking down at him.

Vulpin's eyes—pathetically, she thought—were still a clear, mild hazel in his hideously transformed face.

“Lord Aruendiel sends his regards to the Lady Ilissa,” said the magician. “And good fortune to you in your wedded life, Mistress Nora. Remember that the Faitoren are not always as handsome as they seem.” He gave a swift bow and then turned to limp back toward the horses. Luklren took a moment longer, staring at Vulpin in evident fascination, then shook his head and followed his companion.

“My God, Vulpin, what did he do to you?” Nora said in a low voice, as soon as she thought the men were out of earshot. “Are you all right?”

“I'm fine,” Vulpin said. His voice sounded different, thick and clumsy, his words garbled as he tried to shape them with his new mouth. “Let's go now. Ilissa will fix everything when we get home.”

The two horsemen watched them move away. “I admit, it does seem like a waste to let a girl with pitchers like that go back to those monsters,” Luklren said.

“None of it's real,” Aruendiel said. “Breasts, face, the rest of it. She could have a harelip under there, or leprosy. You saw the Faitoren.”

“What a piece of filth. Ugh. I'm not sure that was a good idea, though, Aruendiel. I don't need you making extra trouble with Ilissa.”

“She stirs up plenty of trouble on her own without my encouragement,” the other man said. “It's good to let her know that we won't stand for her nonsense.”

The air darkened slightly, as though a cloud had moved over the sun. Both horses whinnied uneasily.

Ducking slightly, Aruendiel flung up a hand, fingers spread. A shadowy mass passed high overhead, then flew into the long, low rays of the sun, so that they had to look away.

“The girl's fiancé,” Aruendiel said, lowering his arm. Luklren cursed with feeling.