Stolen Magic

Worth it! she thought. She rubbed her hand until the stinging finally stopped and feeling returned. Then she hunched down to get the most of ITs heat, contenting herself with looking up at the rainbow.

 

They had been struggling downhill, but now they began to climb, and Elodie had to hug ITs neck to keep from sliding off. She cried, “I don’t mean to be impertinent,” and dimly heard ITs answer, “I did not suspect impertinence . . . until you apologized.” Enh enh enh.

 

As the way became steeper, she could think of nothing but hanging on. If she fell off, she’d be lost in one minute and frozen in the next.

 

At last ITs back leveled. Elodie heard wood groaning, then horses whinnying and donkeys braying. Probably happy braying, because beasts loved His Lordship. They seemed to know he could become one of them. The only exception was cats, who wanted him to shape-shift into a mouse so they could eat him.

 

Masteress Meenore progressed through a wide door into a large wooden stable dimly lit by a row of coal braziers that ran down the middle, intended to keep the animals from freezing. His Lordship pushed the big door closed, then set Nesspa down.

 

They were in an open area before the beasts’ stalls began. IT lowered ITself to ITs belly, and Elodie slid off. The dog trotted to the stalls, sniffing.

 

“High Brunka Marya,” IT said, “you have succored us. May we return the favor? Your trouble is grave indeed.”

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THREE

 

 

 

What trouble could befall a brunka, unless it was trouble for Lahnt? Despite ITs warmth, Elodie felt a chill.

 

She saw the high brunka better in here: plump, her mother’s age, more or less, with a square face, ruddy cheeks, and thick lips that still failed to smile. Below her blue wool cap, her graying brown hair fell to her shoulders in waves. If she had been taller, she’d have been unremarkable: her face as ordinary as a bowl of porridge, her plumpness as kindly as a soft bed. She curtsied to the three of them—a quick, efficient gesture.

 

Elodie curtsied back, the elaborate court curtsy that Albin had taught her as part of her mansioner training. IT performed ITs usual masculine bow followed by a feminine curtsy. His Lordship must have calculated their relative rank, count to a high brunka. From the midst of the oxen he bowed deeply. Elodie had seen mere head nods from him; this was An Acknowledgment.

 

“Is someone sick?” Elodie hoped that was all it was.

 

High Brunka Marya smiled a thin smile. “A barber-surgeon is visiting, lamb.” Her voice, though soft as moss, carried. “Except for a toothache, we’re as healthy as fleas.”

 

Elodie heard a distinct tsk from her masteress, who hated dirt and despised vermin.

 

“I’m delighted to welcome you to the Oase.” The high brunka corrected herself: “To the stable of the Oase. I regret our doorway to the Oase itself is too narrow to admit some of you. Honored guests, I hope we can be hospitable anyway. Strangers rarely visit us.”

 

Ah. Elodie deduced, as IT had taught her, that High Brunka Marya didn’t realize she was a Lahnter. She’d been misled by Elodie’s mainland cap, her cloak with the flowing sleeves, and her pointy-toed mainland shoes.

 

High Brunka Marya added, “And nothing is amiss, Masteress. We’re right as a good harvest.”

 

She didn’t meet ITs eyes, often a sign of a lie, but perhaps not now. ITs flat emerald green eyes were terrifying until you came to know ITs crabby, benevolent nature.

 

If Masteress Meenore believes something is wrong, Elodie thought, then something is. She detected no vestige of calm in the high brunka, although brunkas were usually placid. Even in the presence of a dragon and an ogre there should have been a little serenity, since the dragon wasn’t flaming and the ogre wasn’t drooling or eating one of the oxen. In fact, His Lordship was stroking the head of an ox and leading him gently into a stall.

 

“Begging your pardon, perhaps we can help.” Inspired, Elodie proclaimed, as IT had hired her to do, “This evening, in the stable of the Oase and only in the stable of the Oase, the Great, the Unfathomable, the Brilliant Masteress Meenore is available to solve riddles, find lost objects and lost people, and answer the unanswerable. . . .”

 

Masteress Meenore’s smoke rose in white spirals, signifying dragon joy. High Brunka Marya’s eyes were amused.

 

Heartened, Elodie continued, “Three tins for a riddle solved, fifteen tins for a lost object found, three coppers for a lost person found. The fee for answering the unanswerable will be negotiated. During said negotiations or in any discussions with Masteress Meenore, speak to IT with respect.”

 

“Thank you, Elodie.”

 

She grinned in triumph. Her full name!

 

“The sums cited by—”

 

“Pardon me, Masteress.” Wearing a puzzled frown, High Brunka Marya turned back to Elodie. “Elodie is as Lahnt a name as sheep on a mountain.”

 

Elodie saw no reason to lie, and ITs expression was unreadable. “I’m from Dair Mountain.”