The Magicians' Daughter, page 11
The tree soared. Fresh branches sprouted from the rough brown bark, spreading beneath the crown. Soon it had turned into a full-grown tree, its wide branches shading the entire garden.
“It’s a chestnut!” Berrel exclaimed.
The leaves grew dark and thick, shutting out the sky. Bright green fruits appeared beneath them. A crack sounded from above, followed by the spatter of something falling quickly through the foliage. A large nut struck the ground. The mottled husk burst open; Avender’s nose twitched at the deep woodsy smell of drifting mast. Another nut fell, and this time he caught the green scent of wet bracken at the start of a fresh spring rain. Soon the air was filled with dull thuds as nut after nut hit the grass, the leaves pattering loudly. The smells of a forest deep in the Bavadars swept across the garden: a bluebird’s nest when the chicks have just hatched; fresh earth outside a badger’s den; henbite and buttercups blooming in a summer meadow.
The nuts stopped dropping; the leaves turned from green to yellow to brown. But then, instead of falling from the tree, they kept turning, the color draining out of them completely until they were as white as the pages of a book. Their veins showed dark and thin as print on paper.
A wind from the south snaked over the top of the castle wall. The tree rustled. The ground beneath it swelled. With a last heave like a boy spitting a melon seed, the earth shot the tree into the high blue sky. Light flooded back into the garden. The magic chestnut soared like an over-fletched arrow, spinning as it tore through the air.
At the top of its arc it exploded. Green rockets burst in all directions; spinners and crackers and whizzbangs flashed across the sky. The blasts thundered against the guests’ ears. The air hissed. Hubley clapped her hands over her head as a rain of cold green sparks erupted into small flame flowers wherever they touched the ground. For a moment the green expanse of the grass was turned into a field of jumbled tulips: reds and yellows, whites and purples. Quietly crackling, the flowers died. Nothing was left on the grass, not even the hole from the tree.
“What’s that?”
Wilbrim pointed at the sky. Something white twirled in the air near the top of the Magicians’ Tower. It descended slower than it should, as if the long blades spinning at the top were holding it up.
“What is it?” gasped Lady Breeanna.
“A rotor,” answered Nolo. “Grimble used to play with them before he built the Nightfish. I’ve never seen one anywhere else before.”
The rotor twirled down. As it came closer they saw something brown as bark attached to the bottom. Hubley reached up; the falling object settled into her hands. She grunted as she felt its weight, cradling it heavily. The rotor flopped to the grass, attached to the brown package by a length of string. Hastily Hubley tore the present open. Inside she found a heavy book with a red leather cover and letters of gleaming gold.
“What is it, dear?” asked Lady Breeanna. Avender’s chair creaked as she leaned over the back.
“A book.”
“We can see that. What’s the title?”
“Of The Nature and Manner of Things.” Hubley hefted the tome as if judging its purpose by its weight.
“It’s a grammarye,” said Plum.
“One of the few I took with me when I left Ussene,” said Reiffen.
“Now that you’re ten,” said Ferris, “you can start your official apprenticeship. What you’ve learned so far has just been play.”
Scratching his head, Berrel peered out at the empty garden and up at the sky. “But how’d you do it?” he asked. “There’s not a trace of the tree or the giant chestnuts anywhere.”
“All illusion, Dad,” laughed Ferris. “Not a bit of it real.”
“Even the waves in the ground? But we all felt them.”
“Feeling is believing,” Durk agreed.
“It’s an easy matter to shake tables and chairs,” explained Reiffen, “but the rotor and the book were real enough. I had one of the guards throw them off the top of the tower.” The magician looked up. A soldier waved down at the crowd.
“Very impressive,” said Nolo. “Especially the noise.”
Hubley had already opened her book’s first pages and was nosing through it for interesting spells. The rest of the party settled around the table, helping themselves to second cupcakes or wine. Only when a large crow settled in the middle, its wings knocking over cups and glasses as it pecked at the nearest piece of cake, did everyone realize Redburr had finally arrived.
Chapter 7
The Mirror
Although he had a good idea why the Shaper had returned, Reiffen said nothing as the crow cocked his head to the side and fixed Hubley with one bright button eye.
“Brawwk. Happy birthday. I wasn’t sure I’d make it, but I guess I got here just in time.”
The bird paused, his attention distracted by the shiny sparkle of Hubley’s new silver thimble. Hern snapped her napkin at him. “Shoo, you.”
“I’ve got him.” Avender scooped the crow up off the table with one arm.
“Take him away,” ordered Ferris. “And don’t bring him back till he’s changed into something more respectable.”
“Brawk! There isn’t time. I haven’t come all this way to be locked in the barn.” Unable to get at Avender with his beak, the Shaper flapped his large wings and scrabbled with his claws. Reiffen pocketed one of the large black feathers that floated through the air.
“What have you come for?” asked the king.
The crow gave Hubley another sideways look. “This isn’t the place to talk about it.”
Reiffen agreed. “Giserre, if you would take over as host, Ferris and I will escort Avender and the Oeinnen to her workshop. Your Majesties. Nolo. If you would care to join us.”
Hubley jumped up, wrapping and ribbons flying. “I’m coming too!”
“Not now,” warned her mother. “This is for your father and me.”
“But it’s my party!”
Giserre’s eyebrows rose. “Hubley, you are now ten. It is time you learned the meaning of duty.”
“We’ll have plenty of fun without them.” Snapping his fingers, Plum produced another bright butterfly. It flew off across the garden before dribbling away into the air like a handful of sand.
As they went inside, Avender let Redburr go. The bird flew up toward the top of the Magicians’ Tower while everyone else climbed the stair.
“Not there!” Ferris leapt forward as she spotted the Shaper perched on a small table in the middle of her workshop. “Wellin gave us that for our fifth anniversary. I won’t have you ruining it.”
Spreading his glossy wings, the crow glided over to a stool. Unlike the basement workshops, Ferris’s was an airy chamber, with a tall ceiling and wide windows facing east, south, and west. On the northern side a long bench stood against the wall, rows of books and beakers filling the shelves above.
“Well now,” she asked, satisfied the damage to the table could be repaired. “What’s this all about?”
The Shaper glanced bird-wise at Reiffen. “You never did tell her, did you?”
“We agreed I wouldn’t,” the magician replied.
“Tell me what?” Ferris demanded.
“Redburr’s been watching Ahne.”
“Watching Ahne? What in the world for?”
The Shaper gripped the edge of the stool with his claws. “Ever since Reiffen and I learned the Gray Wizard was teaching magic to Dremen witches and Keeadini shamans, we knew it was only a matter of time before he went after your apprentices. I’ve been watching Ahne for the last year.”
“Ahne would never have anything to do with the Wizard,” scoffed Ferris. “He’s a good man. It’s why Reiffen and I picked him.”
“A pleasant fellow,” the king agreed.
“Well, he isn’t pleasant anymore.” The bird snapped his beak with a sharp crack. “Remember that girl who disappeared in West Wayland last year?”
“Of course.” Wellin’s interest sharpened at the mention of the child. “We sent two companies of the guard to help with the search.”
“Ahne has her now.”
Ferris broke through the hush of everyone else’s surprise. “I don’t believe it.”
The Shaper fixed Reiffen with one dark eye. “I’m sure your husband does. He knows the Wizard’s power better than anyone.”
Though he would have preferred not to, Reiffen agreed. The news that Ahne had stolen a child shook him deeply. It meant that all his worst nightmares were coming true. He and Ferris had chosen their apprentices for goodness as much as wisdom, but now, when the first of them had faced the Wizard, goodness hadn’t turned out to be much good at all. He should have known he had to get rid of Fornoch first, before passing his knowledge along to anyone else. Now, in addition to the Wizard, he was going to have to deal with the apprentices too.
“But why would Ahne want to steal a child?” asked the king.
“There are many uses a magician might have for a child,” Reiffen answered. “Ahne, however, knew none of them when he left Castle Grangore. Ferris and I do not teach that sort of thing.”
“Fornoch does,” said the bird.
“Did you see him?”
Redburr shook his beak. “I haven’t even seen the girl. But I heard her. Three days ago Ahne left the door open to a secret cave in the hill behind his cottage. They talked for a while, and he called her by name. That’s how I knew who she was.”
“So she’s still alive,” said Ferris.
“We must rescue her,” said Wellin.
Reiffen decided to speak up before everyone’s good intentions got out of hand. “It might be a trap. Clearly, Fornoch has been corrupting Ahne for some time now, otherwise a child stolen from her parents a year ago would not be in his possession.”
“Remember it’s the Wizard we’re after here,” added Redburr. “Not the child.”
“Nonsense.” Wellin’s look dared anyone to contradict her. “If the child is alive, rescuing her is our first concern.”
Brizen pulled at his chin. “I have to agree. Redburr, I will not permit the child to be used as Wizard’s bait.”
The Shaper pointed his sharp beak at the king. “Even if it rids us of the Wizard once and for all? One child for many is a good trade.”
“It is not,” said the queen. “You are not human, Redburr. You cannot understand.”
“It hardly matters anyway.” Everyone turned to Reiffen as he waved their arguments aside. “Redburr just told us he has not seen Fornoch once during the entire year he’s been watching Ahne. In all likelihood the Wizard has never visited Ahne in person at all. He will be using dreams or mirrors. I shall have to go see.”
Ferris began untying her apron. “We can rescue the girl while we’re there.”
“Redburr and I will certainly rescue the child if we can,” said Reiffen. “But I think it would be better if you remained behind.”
“Why?”
Reiffen readied himself to catch her apron in case his wife threw it at him. “As I said, this may all be a ruse. Fornoch may be attempting to lure us away from Castle Grangore. Someone has to stay and guard Hubley.”
Ferris didn’t bat an eye. “Better I go, then. You’re always saying how you guard Hubley better than I do.”
Reiffen hadn’t considered that. Hubley’s safety was his first concern, but he much preferred being the one to examine Ahne’s cottage. Alone, if possible. Ferris might find things there it would be better she never saw.
“No,” he said, making up his mind. “Fornoch will know we’ve seen through his plans if you show up rather than I. Better for you to stay. You and Hubley can hide in our special place.”
“If you think I’m going to cower in the basement while you go off to fight the Wizard, you’re out of your mind. I’ll stay here, but I won’t be chased into hiding. A fine example we’d be setting for our daughter if I ran away at the first sign of danger. It’s bad enough I can’t go with you to see what sort of a mess Ahne’s gotten himself into, but I’m not going to pretend to be afraid to stay behind.”
“If you thought about it for a minute,” said Reiffen, “you’d know there’s no pretending as far as being afraid of Fornoch is concerned.”
“Brawk!” The Shaper flew between husband and wife. Both stepped back, or his wings would have smacked each in the face. “Let it go, Reiffen. Ferris can take care of herself.”
“I’ll come with you,” offered Avender.
“No.” Reiffen shook his head. “You won’t be able to keep up.”
“Why not?”
“I can only travel as far as Ipwell. I’ve never been to Norly. After that Redburr and I will have to fly.”
“You’ll still need some sort of reserve. Let Ferris take me to Malmoret to fetch a company of the king’s guard, then bring us along with you. That way, if it turns out you need help, we’ll already be on our way.”
Reiffen decided it wouldn’t hurt to have a company of soldiers near at hand, provided they were properly armed. There never was any knowing the Wizard’s plans.
“Fine. Have them bring crossbows. We’ll arm them with Inach bolts when they arrive.”
Wellin and Brizen chose to return with Ferris and Avender to Malmoret, though their retainers had to remain behind for another trip. Reiffen spent the time they were gone preparing his spell. He had only been to Ipwell once, to speak with a Hisser who had seen Fornoch, and couldn’t go there with a simple thought the way he could to more familiar places.
They were a large group when they left, about as many as Reiffen could take so far with success, five soldiers in addition to Avender and Redburr. The magician lay on the desk with his eyes closed, his companions holding his bare arms. He remembered an inn with a large beech tree standing outside the front gate, a wooden bench wrapped around the tree’s wide trunk. Past the gate a whitewashed rabbit dashed across a wooden plank above the door. A small stream chattered behind the house, funneling through a narrow race to the baron’s mill down the road...
The soldiers gasped, though they had just traveled from Malmoret to Castle Grangore a few minutes before. But to suddenly find themselves in the middle of the road outside the Running Rabbit in Ipwell came as a shock, no matter how much they had been expecting it. Their surprise, however, was not nearly as great as that of the two farmers sitting on the bench below the beech tree. Their mouths hung open; pale smoke curled from the pipes in their hands.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen.”
The magician nodded as he stood and patted the dust from his clothes. Pointing past the farmers, he showed Avender the way to Norly.
“If you march all night,” he said as Redburr flew up into the tree, “you’ll reach the village by dawn. Redburr and I will meet you there. By that time I imagine we will have learned everything possible from Ahne and can decide what to do next. I doubt we will find Fornoch, but, if we do, remember your Inach bolts are the only thing that will work against him. Iron, or even blumet, won’t work at all.”
As Avender led the soldiers away, Reiffen entered the house. Paying the innkeeper a full night’s fee for an hour’s use of one of his rooms, he went up the narrow stairs. After first opening the window, he sat on the bed and retrieved a small black feather and a tiny iron brooch from a leather pouch within his cloak.
“Brawwk. What’s that?”
The Shaper perched on the windowsill, a bit of carrion under one sharp claw.
“A charm.” Reiffen opened the brooch’s clasp. “Transformation spells are not the sort of thing you can cast just anywhere. At least not at my present level of ability. So I have prepared a few in advance, like this bird, for instance.”
“Looks like a bug on a pin to me.” Bending over, the Shaper picked at the mouse with his heavy beak. Tearing off a long string of red flesh, he gulped it down like a robin with a worm.
“It’s a bird. The feather will determine what kind.”
“Is that my feather? The one you took when Avender picked me up?”
“Ah, you noticed that.” Reiffen twirled the quill between his fingers. “No, this is a common crow’s. The feather determines the sort of bird I shall transform into. Yours would be much too uncertain. Though it might be interesting to try sometime when our task is less urgent.”
“Brawwk. Use one of mine and you might turn into a weasel instead of a crow.”
“That’s why I am not trying it now. Though I do wonder if it would allow me to retain the ability to speak, which this will not. Not even the language of crows.”
Unbuttoning his shirt, Reiffen pinned the brooch to his chest. Two trickles of blood ran down his skin. Holding the feather in his left hand, he chanted,
“Toe to talon, beard to bill,
Change my form to fit this quill.”
Unlike traveling, Reiffen always felt a transformation. Not on the outside, where skin and hair and clothes merged and sprouted into beak and claws and feathers, but on the inside, where the change was most acute. Sight blurred and melted; shapes and colors spun like water spiraling round a drain. Touch and feeling disappeared. Cut loose from the world, he felt as if he were drawing in on himself, like ivy growing backwards.
And then he was somewhere else. Or, in this case, something else. His sight sharpened. Weight and solidity drained away; no longer did he feel part of the earth. The air lifted his feathers and called him to the sky.
“Is that what I look like when I change?” squawked the other crow from the windowsill. “Bird and human blinking on and off, faster and faster until only the bird’s left?”
