Stolen Magic(4)



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.”

She expected a broader smile and a more genuine welcome, but the high brunka’s frown deepened.

“Madam,” IT said, “you are every moment confirming my conjecture. You recognized Elodie’s name, and your unease increased.” IT held up a claw because the high brunka began to protest. “There is trouble of a certainty. As Lodie proclaimed, I am brilliant. You believe we are connected to the trouble.”

His Lordship left the oxen in four steps. “Is Elodie in danger, Meenore?”

“We may all be at risk. I require information to evaluate, but this brunka has not obliged us. Perhaps we can deduce on our own. Lo—”

“How do you know something is wrong?”

“An admission. Lodie, how did I conclude some calamity had befallen the Oase or the high brunka?”

Elodie felt the familiar pressure of her brain being squeezed. “Er . . . Masteress, you sang so that someone might hear us. Er . . . you knew brunkas have especially sharp ears. And a brunka came. Wasn’t that what you expected?” Her coming couldn’t mean anything! “Er . . . um . . .”

“You disappoint me. Your Lordship, if someone unknown arrived outside your castle in a blizzard, would you go yourself to see who it was?”

“Yes. A servant might freeze. I could always—”

“Oh!” Elodie had figured it out. “Pardon, Your Lordship. A nobleman less sweet-natured than Count Jonty Um would send a servant. High Brunka, why didn’t you send a few of your bees?”

IT didn’t give the high brunka time to answer. “Good, Elodie. Why do you think—”

“Masteress . . .”

“You know I do not relish interruptions, Lodie. What is it?”

She approached IT and stood on tiptoe.

IT lowered ITs head.

She whispered into ITs earhole. “The high brunka looks as if . . .” Midsentence she remembered brunka hearing. Feeling foolish, she finished without whispering. “She needs to sit.”

“Excellent observation. We do not want our informant to swoon.”

High Brunka Marya’s face was pale, and she stood on spread feet for balance. “Lamb, you’ll find a stack of stools at the end of the stalls.”

Elodie hurried through the stable, which held the hired oxen as well as six horses and seven donkeys. She wondered if all these beasts belonged here or if the Oase had guests.

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