“You can be a horse?” the oldest girl said.
“A docile one. A true horse, however. If you talk to me, I won’t understand the words. But if there’s danger, I’ll wake up inside the horse.” He finished the cheese. “Widow Fridda, please go inside with the children. I have to take off these clothes or I’ll rip them. Please bring them with us.”
“Hurry, children.”
He stripped, folded his new things neatly, and began to shape-shift. The donkey brayed once and fell silent. A minute later, a large piebald horse waited outside the cottage, the ogre’s intelligence fading from his eyes.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Masteress Meenore spied in the distance, black against the gray dawn, the peak of Zertrum Mountain, which resembled a gaping fish.
IT thought, I am a prodigious, fleet flyer. And I am an authority on pyrology, the principles and attributes of fire. Invisible to the human eye—possibly even to the brunka eye—a film of heat shimmers above the peak: the mountain prepares to spew.
IT urged ITs wings to greater speed.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Elodie slept through breakfast, although the table hadn’t yet been taken down when she awoke. First she needed the garderobe. Not thinking, she headed for the corridor door from the great hall, which Dror-bee was guarding. “Stop! No one can leave.” Ardent as ever, he repeated, “Stop!”
“But I came after the theft.”
Dror-bee asked High Brunka Marya to rule.
“Apologies, lamb. I can’t let you go alone and no one else.” She appointed Ludda-bee and Johan-bee to conduct Elodie to the privy.
Elodie wondered if the high brunka paired the two to push Johan-bee to stand up for himself, or if it was a kindness to send him, because he’d be able to use the garderobe himself. Outside the great hall, she asked to be led to the privy closest to where the Replica was kept.
Ludda-bee complained about the extra distance, but she didn’t say no.
As they walked, Elodie was aware that the thief had come this way. When they neared the turn into the high brunka’s corridor, she thought, If the villain had an accomplice, he or she might have slipped into one of these rooms. High Brunka Marya said they were all unoccupied now. On Master Robbie’s map IT had pointed at this room on her left, the Ferret Room. She decided to ferret about in there and wished she could tell IT the pun. Enh enh enh.
“Can I look in here?” Without waiting for an answer, she went in.
“You think the Replica may be there?” Ludda-bee asked, following her in.
“I just want to see something.”
Johan-bee stayed in the doorway. Inside, there was hardly enough space for two. The cook reeked of animal fat and garlic. This chamber was narrower than Elodie’s own Donkey Room, but it still held a bed, a chest, and a stool. If the box had been hidden in here, the thief would have put it where Ursa-bee wouldn’t see.
No use looking in the chest, because if the handkerchief had been in there, the lid would have muffled the weeping. The floor seemed evenly strewn with floor rushes, but—she peered under the bed—had the rushes been disturbed there?
Ludda-bee grunted and crouched, too.
Too dark to tell, where there were no glowworms. Elodie tried to pull the bed out of the way as far as it would go, but it was too heavy.
“Help the girl, you inconsiderate oaf.”
Ludda-bee and Elodie had to leave the room so Johan-bee could work. He pulled the bed out. From the doorway, Elodie saw rushes with no sign they’d been disturbed, except where Johan-bee had moved the legs.
They left the Ferret Room. Ludda-bee and Johan-bee turned into the corridor where the high brunka’s chamber was.
Elodie stood still. If she didn’t turn but continued a few steps, she’d come to a room between the high brunka’s corridor and the next, where the thief might have waited if he or she had worked alone. “I want to look in this room, too, if you don’t mind.” She opened the door to the Turtle Room, which proved to be another tiny chamber similarly furnished.
Johan-bee went in first this time and moved the bed.
“Thank you.”
Near the wall, the rushes lay too flat. A narrow, cleared path led to the flattened place that could have been made by an arm.
“Oh!” Elodie’s heart speeded up. The thief had been here, had breathed this air, had opened the box, had touched the handkerchief that weeps, had hurried out. A single thief, since this was the room—if ITs theory was right.
“What do you see?” Ludda-bee bent down, too. “Nothing’s there. Just rushes.”
Johan-bee said, “In winter the Oase is overrun by mice.”
A mouse could have caused the path and could have lain there, matting the rushes.
“He knows about mice,” Ludda-bee said, starting down the corridor after Johan-bee. “A few nights ago he woke us all with his screaming when one walked across his face. You have a visage beloved by rodents, Johan.”
Make a jest of it, Johan-bee! Elodie thought. He could say that all creatures loved his face. Then Ludda-bee’s wit would be outwitted.
But he marched ahead of them.
Elodie called, “Thank you, Johan-bee, for your labor.”
He turned. “I don’t mind. Bees help.” The toothache medicine almost disappeared in his smile.
They continued on to the garderobe, where Elodie disliked having people waiting for her. Again, she pitied Johan-bee.
When she came out, Ludda-bee said, “I suppose you want to use it, too, Johan.”
He did. While they waited, Elodie tried to think of useful questions to ask the cook, who began a new tirade with “See how slow he is, girl? I would have finished twice by now. He’s slow in everything. He took forever to dig up the beets before the blizzard, before you and the monster came. If he were cook we’d never eat. It’s a wonder Master Uwald has taken an interest in him. That man is goodness itself, to poor Master Robbie, too.” But, incapable of paying a complete compliment, she added, “Of course, Master Uwald will wager with anyone. He’d play dice with a pig if it had hands.”
“Do you think the high brunka will find the Replica in time?”
“I do not. Marya hates to think ill of anyone. . . .”
And you love to, Elodie thought.
“. . . but she’ll find it in the end, and then I pity the thief.”
“Who do you think might have done it?”
“Master Tuomo or Mistress Sirka. He’s high and mighty, and she’s low and mighty. He’s losing his inheritance to Master Robbie, and she’s as poor as a termite.”
Johan-bee emerged at last.
Elodie thought she’d learned one thing worth knowing: there had been a single thief, if her masteress’s theories were right.
As they walked the long corridor back to the great hall, she wondered if Ludda-bee could be the thief. The cook had studied Johan-bee’s habits, so she’d be aware of when he’d go to the garderobe. And she knew the Replica’s hiding place. But if she took it, she’d have to leave the Oase and stop complaining. The loss would be too great.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The piebald horse picked his way down the mountain, slowed by the deep snow. He felt the low rumble far beneath his hooves, but his nature was placid and he experienced no fear.
The widow, who had never ridden a horse before, wound her fingers tight in his mane. At first the children expressed wonder at being so high up, but within a half hour they fell silent, the steady motion putting them all in a kind of trance. The baby slept. The donkey trailed behind.
An hour passed. The air warmed. The snow, which in the cold had been light as sifted flour, grew heavy and wet and harder to push through.
They entered the woods below the cottage. Although less snow had reached the ground, the trees grew close together, and the ground was stony. The horse had to pick his way and progressed more slowly. They hadn’t gone far before the earth shuddered, instantly awakening the ogre in the horse. Fee fi! He stopped because that seemed safest, since
every step would be treacherous, but the donkey bolted. The baby and the three-year-old wailed.
The shuddering was noiseless, but a crack split the air ahead as a tree toppled and narrowly missed the donkey, who surged ahead.
A great groaning and whirring came from above them on the mountain. His Lordship guessed rocks and snow were skidding down. Fo fum! Let the slide not reach them!
It didn’t, but, in the distance, someone screamed.
His Lordship knew he couldn’t investigate the cry, not with as many as he could carry already on board. He wished he could.
The widow whispered into his neck, “Thank you.”
But she gave him too much credit. He knew they’d merely been lucky. In his mind he became a horse again and continued the slow, careful descent.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
When they delivered Elodie to the great hall, Ludda-bee went to the kitchen, and Johan-bee relieved one of the bees guarding the kitchen doorway. The breakfast table had been taken down. Hungry as she was, Elodie put thoughts of a meal out of her mind. The guests were again in their pairs, searching the shelves and cabinets that lined the walls: Master Uwald with Albin, Master Tuomo with Mistress Sirka. Master Robbie stood with Master Uwald and Albin along the north wall, but his eyes were on the door Elodie entered through. She wondered if he’d been watching for her.
Dror-bee now explored the books and relics with Ursa-bee. High Brunka Marya sat alone on her stool, watching this pair and then that and certainly listening to everyone.
Where is my masteress by now? Elodie wondered.
She jerked her head in a signal to Master Robbie, and he followed her to the high brunka.
“High Brunka—”
“Good morning, kidlings.” She smiled wanly at them.
Elodie saw faint colors on her fingertips again.
“Lamb, I wish you’d come to the Oase at a more pleasant time, and we could have shown you the Replica and taken you around.”
“I don’t mind,” Elodie said, because she could think of nothing better. “Remember when we said IT thinks there were two thieves? IT may be wrong.” She explained that the rushes had been disturbed in the Turtle Room. “That’s the room IT thinks would have been used if there was just one thief. But the Turtle could also be the wrong chamber. Johan-bee said there are mice, and they could have shuffled the rushes.”
“He’s right. We need cats, but they don’t like being confined in here.”
Master Robbie asked, “Are bees still searching the relics rooms?”
“They are.” The high brunka sighed. “I wish we had collected fewer things.” Her weak smile flickered again.
They left her.
Master Robbie said, “IT said we should ask Deeter-bee about the last theft.”
The historian sat on his bench by the south fireplace, where Elodie had first seen him.
Master Robbie took Elodie’s hand as they crossed the room. She felt herself blush and wondered if Albin was watching but didn’t want to turn her head to see.
“I told Grand— er, Master Uwald that I’d like to be a barber-surgeon.”
“What did he say?”
“He laughed. Whales and porpoises, he laughed a long time. Then he said, ‘The richest boy on Lahnt wants to be a barber.’ He also said we could talk more about it after this was over.”
Deeter-bee watched them come.
Elodie and Master Robbie sat on the bench with him, Elodie on his left, Master Robbie on his right. Both leaned forward so they could see each other, too.
Elodie cast about for something to say. “Er . . . um . . . in one of the mansioners’ plays, King Tantalus says . . .” She made her voice deep and ringing. “‘History points a bloody finger at the future.’”
Not just High Brunka Marya turned to look at her; so did everyone else.
She lowered her voice. “Deeter-bee, does history point at this thief?”
He yawned. “History’s finger points backward.”
She persisted. “Is there anything we can learn from the other theft?”
“Who was the thief back then?” Master Robbie asked.
Deeter-bee cleared his throat. “His name is unimportant. People think only a poor person would be tempted to steal, but he was a prosperous fisherman in Zee.”
Expectation misleads, Elodie thought, remembering the puppet’s words.
Master Robbie frowned. “Zee?”
Deeter-bee looked him up and down. “You live in Zee?”
He touched the beads. “I used to.”
“Zee isn’t proud of him. He was prosperous and angry, a dangerous combination.”
Elodie thought, Master Tuomo is prosperous and furious. My masteress says Mistress Sirka may be angry, but she’s poor. Master Uwald is rich but not angry.
“Why was he angry?” Master Robbie asked.
“He asked the high brunka for a loan to buy a third boat, but the high brunka—not Marya back then—said two boats were enough for anyone.”
Albin was also refused money by the high brunka, Elodie remembered.
“The last thief didn’t want anyone killed. History will be kinder to him after this theft. He kept the Replica only a day before confessing, so that no one would suffer. He died in the earl’s prison.” He paused. “I will venture an opinion: This thief has a stony heart and will not confess.”
Elodie wondered about the hardness of the historian’s heart. Did he have a reason to be angry? Had the high brunka denied him anything? “Do you know where the Replica was kept?”
He closed his eyes. “Certainly I do.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
All seven chambers of Masteress Meenore’s heart expanded as IT took in Zertrum’s beauty: peak of striated rock; mountain bones thrusting up through silver ice; snow-dusted evergreen slopes; cascading streams; the brown dot of a dwelling here and there.
Suddenly, as if a huge, invisible hand were at work, the entire mountain trembled and then became motionless again. The volcano showing its power.
IT flew close to the ground, enjoying the sight of ITs own shadow, passing over people fleeing their homes, who looked up with terrified faces.
Many drove their beasts before them. Fools! IT thought. They should have abandoned their herds and made as much haste as they could.
IT overflew a forest interrupted by a half-frozen stream. Below, but not in ITs shadow, and so having no reason to look up, a woman and a brood of children crossed the water on the back of an enormous horse, which was followed by an unburdened donkey. IT thought, How fortunate these people are to have such a powerful and obliging mount.
Your Lordship, where have you gone? Did you shape-shift? What beast are you now?
IT continued winging ITs way north.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
After they left Deeter-bee, Elodie whispered to Master Robbie, “Master Tuomo is angry and prosperous.”
“He whipped his horse.”
And he’d been her masteress’s favorite suspect, if not for his sons.
Without further discussion, they went to him. Side by side, they sat on the floor and began going through the lower shelf of the same open cabinet that he was investigating.
Mistress Sirka merely stood at Master Tuomo’s elbow, watching Dror-bee. Elodie followed her gaze. Dror-bee seemed completely absorbed in his task, absurdly so. If he picked up a box, it wasn’t sufficient to peer inside; he had to turn it upside down as well. If everyone else were as slow as he, Zertrum would spew before much searching had been done.
And yet he appeared one of the most distressed, which might be a clue that he was mansioning his suffering. Or it might just be his character: a silly man, who heedlessly threw himself into every endeavor.
In contrast to Dror-bee, Master Tuomo’s movements were quick and determined as he pulled thick tomes out of a shelf of chained books, each volume big enough to conceal the Replica if the pages had been hollowed out. Accordingly, he opened every one and thumbed through it. Before re
turning each book, he peered into the darkness of the shelf behind it.
Elodie said, “If the Replica had been chained, it might not have been stolen, don’t you think, Master Tuomo?”
He just grunted.
Together, Elodie and Master Robbie moved relics off the bottom shelf onto the floor, so they couldn’t miss anything: a heavy granite rock, sanded smooth; a wooden carving of a deer; a cottage made of clay, too small to hold the Replica; a bowl full of glass baubles.
The last relic was a wooden box, also not big enough for the Replica but certainly large enough for—
Elodie and Master Robbie looked at each other. She nodded at him, and he lifted the lid.
Gray feathers, not the handkerchief that wept. She touched the heap, half expecting it to turn into a bird, but nothing happened.
Masteress, Elodie thought, I have no more idea of who the thieves are than you did when you left, no more idea, really, than if we’d never come to the Oase.
Master Robbie ran his hand along the shelf. “Nothing.”
Elodie pointed up at Master Tuomo and shrugged, meaning they hadn’t learned anything about him.
Master Robbie nodded, picking up an ancient-looking clay crock. He said, louder than if he had been speaking to just her, “I once stole a jar of honey from the inn where Grandmother worked.”
Elodie felt a new stillness from Master Tuomo.
Master Robbie chuckled. “I ate a spoonful every day till it was gone.”
“Did anyone catch you?” Elodie asked, as she deduced he wanted her to.
“A month later, Grandmother found the jar. She insisted that I pick my own punishment.”
“I would have taken the rod to you.” Master Tuomo crouched to talk to them.
“What punishment did you pick?” Elodie moved the relics back onto their shelf.
“I apologized to the innkeeper.”
“That was enough for your grandmother?” Master Tuomo’s voice was disapproving.
“She said it was perfect.”
Stolen Magic Page 12
