Stolen Magic

by Gail Carson Levine

  More bees took over to march him and Master Uwald out of the great hall. Elodie wondered where they’d be kept. As soon as they were gone, Ludda-bee dropped onto one of the benches at the table and wept noisily.

  Deeter-bee sat, too, and took the last poppy-seed roll. “A historic event.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

  “Meenore!” His Lordship’s voice rang in sudden silence.

  The booming from below quieted. IT opened ITs eyes.

  The flow of molten rock ceased. Outside the cave, the world turned the gray-white of drifting ash and new snow.

  “Your Lordship, my Elodie deduced and induced and used her common sense and saved us both.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

  The fires in all three fireplaces had burned down to embers. Bees went to stir them up and add logs. Everyone else stood between the table and the door, waiting.

  High Brunka Marya returned. Her serene brunka smile, absent since she’d discovered the theft, had been restored. “The tremors have stopped.”

  Elodie began, “Did the—”

  Master Tuomo began, “Did the mountain—”

  “I don’t think the worst happened, but”—the smile faded—“there must have been a great deal of damage.”

  Ludda-bee burst out, “It isn’t our fault, what Johan did. We all tried to improve him. I certainly did.”

  Elodie listened in astonishment.

  Ludda-bee continued. “He isn’t a bee anymore, is he? He isn’t worthy. He never was, really.”

  “He is a thief. The earl will decide if he’s still a bee. We’re to blame for making him suffer. He might not have listened to Master Uwald otherwise, but he’s to blame for stealing.” High Brunka Marya’s voice was firm, but her smile remained. “I can’t stop being happy.”

  Ludda-bee piled platters onto her tray. “I’m glad to have my kitchen to myself again.” She marched out.

  Albin asked the high brunka, “Did Johan-bee hit you on purpose?”

  “I think he was just clumsy,” Ursa-bee said.

  Elodie’s eyes met Master Robbie’s. “I disagree,” she said. “He and Master Uwald wanted to leave the Oase, which you”—she nodded at the high brunka—“were preventing. And they needed to talk without being overheard.”

  Master Tuomo said, “Uwald and Johan-bee are confined separately, aren’t they?”

  The high brunka said they were.

  “In prison cells?” Master Robbie asked.

  “We don’t have any of those, pup. In rooms with two bees guarding each one.”

  “And they will be punished?” asked Master Tuomo.

  “He did save your sons,” Ursa-bee said. “Don’t you pity him?”

  Master Tuomo answered slowly, each word a blow. “I . . . do . . . not . . . pity . . . him.”

  “Lady El, how did they do it? We should make a play of it, but I don’t understand.”

  Yes, they should. She could portray her masteress again. That would amuse IT—if IT was alive. She took a deep breath. “Johan-bee had the handkerchief that weeps. I expect that Master Uwald gave it to him. He told you”—Elodie nodded at Ursa-bee—“he was going to the garderobe, but he hurried to the Turtle Room instead. It was a long way, but he had time—”

  “—because he always took so long. Grand— er, Master Uwald was waiting in the corridor outside the privy. He probably peeked and saw you leave your post.”

  Ursa-bee blushed. “I had to. The weeping was so piteous.”

  Elodie took up the tale. “Master Uwald ran into your chamber, High Brunka, and straight into the storage room.”

  “So that’s where he was when Johan and I made sure the Replica was still there. Then Johan must have gotten the Replica from him before going out to dig up the beets. He said he needed the garderobe again.”

  Master Tuomo sat heavily on the bench by the table. “Master Robbie, girl, you did well.”

  Albin said, “Lady El . . .”

  She shook her head. “I can’t leave until I know what happened to my masteress.” And His Lordship.

  “But you can sleep. High Brunka? We can return to our rooms, right?”

  “Oh, lamb! And pup! Yes. Go, everyone. It’s morning, but no matter. Sleep!”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

  At the very moment the Replica was reset on its pedestal, the chasm closed on Zertrum and the volcano ceased spewing. The flow of molten rock that had already been released pooled and cooled quickly. New snowfall soon extinguished the fires that had broken out in myriad places.

  But Zertrum didn’t return to its previous state. Boulders that had moved stayed moved. Some farms that had been rich became sandy or too wet or too dry—or the reverse. Folks who’d been injured weren’t miraculously cured. Worst of all by far, the seven people who’d been killed remained dead.

  His Lordship and Masteress Meenore had to sleep and eat before flying back to the Oase. They slept the day through, then hunted—His Lordship as a wolf—and dined. By nightfall they were ready. The count raised his arms to shape-shift.

  “Wait!”

  His Lordship lowered his arms.

  ITs white smoke spiraled upward. “I have deduced and induced that the villains are Master Uwald and Johan-bee and that the Replica was buried where and when the beets were harvested. At the Oase, I trust you will attest to this statement. I wish not to be accused of claiming brilliance only after the facts are widely known. If I was mistaken, so be it. I will accept the shame.”

  His Lordship nodded, shifted, and began to fly. IT rose, too, but IT couldn’t match a swift’s speed. The bird doubled back and circled the dragon to keep pace.

  Upon waking, after sleeping around the clock, Elodie followed her rumbling stomach to the great hall. Before she went in, she heard coughing, and her heart rose to her throat. Inside, she found her masteress filling the entrance and His Lordship (dressed in his own clothes, taken from the stable) seated on a mound of mattresses that had been placed at the trestle table. Nesspa lay nearby, his eyes fixed on his master. As before, IT occupied the head of the table. The high brunka perched on her stool at the other end. Bees and guests sat on the benches. Elodie raced across the great hall. She had hugged IT before so she didn’t hesitate this time and stretched her arms across as much of ITs belly as she could reach. The corner of the table dug into her side. She inhaled deeply and licked her lips to fully take in ITs odor.

  ITs white smoke curled in a spiral. “Mmm . . . Elodie . . . teeth and scales! If you must. Mmm . . . You were a credit to me. My confidence in you has been gratified.”

  Elodie! Credit to IT!

  Finally, she stepped aside. “Zertrum didn’t explode, did it?”

  “No, Lodie.”

  She nodded, taking in the information. “When did you get here?”

  “Perhaps half an hour ago. We deferred discussion of events on Zertrum until you joined us.”

  She felt a rush of gratitude.

  IT turned to Master Robbie. “A portion of Elodie’s credit belongs to you.”

  She was happy to share. “We solved the mystery together.” She ran to His Lordship, who patted his mouth with the tablecloth, smiled his sweet smile at her, and stood, his head grazing the stone ceiling.

  She wanted to hug him, too, but she never had, and he was a count, so she contented herself with matching the ardor of his smile, if not its sweetness.

  He sat again. “Would you like pottage?”

  She nodded.

  He ladled pottage into a bowl. A smiling Ludda-bee sat next to him, clearly reveling in his appetite. His own pottage filled a tureen. The others were seated, too, more tightly pressed together than usual.

  “Why didn’t you come right back to us?” Elodie said, addressing His Lordship. She took her bowl and squeezed onto the bench next to her masteress. “Did something happen?”

  “Yes.”

  They all waited.

  He put down his spoon. “When I was a swift, an arrow pierced my shoulder. As a bird, I couldn�
�t fly.” He resumed eating.

  “So you had to get better.” She paused for him to say more.

  After the silence had stretched for half a minute, he said, “Meenore found me.” He didn’t mention the people he’d rescued.

  “Your Lordship, if you please, relate the solution of the mystery as I revealed it to you on Zertrum.”

  Count Jonty Um obliged.

  Master Robbie, sitting across from His Lordship, clapped his hands. “Whales and porpoises! IT knew.”

  Elodie suspected he wanted to be a barber-surgeon only because he couldn’t be a dragon.

  High Brunka Marya said, “Masteress, brunkas pay our debts. What is your fee?”

  Elodie remembered that High Brunka Marya had promised a reward of a hundred silvers.

  IT helped ITself from a platter of boiled eggs. “Madam, it is the quite reasonable sum of three gold coins.”

  Albin laughed.

  Three gold coins equaled only seventy-five silvers. “But—”

  “Lodie, do not tell me that I should be charit—”

  “Masteress, there—”

  “You have interrupted me, Master Robbie. I hope your reason is excellent.”

  He explained about the reward.

  “I see.” Blue smoke rose. “Nonetheless, I have named my price. I will not amend it.”

  High Brunka Marya opened her purse and produced the coins.

  Albin asked, “How much of this will Elodie receive, Masteress?”

  Elodie squeezed her hands together; she thought she deserved a portion.

  ITs smoke tinted a delicate pink. “None. I pay her a salary.”

  The high brunka tucked her purse back under her cloak. “I’ll go with you when you leave the Oase.”

  At gale speed, IT deduced her meaning. “You must not cease to be the high brunka.”

  Elodie blinked in surprise.

  “I failed in the most important thing.”

  “You learned humility. The next high brunka will not have.”

  Elodie thought, IT has no humility!

  “I’ll think about what you say.”

  “There is a point upon which you can satisfy me,” IT said. “It is my theory that you could not maintain your rainbow over the door for years or even weeks.”

  A rainbow fluttered out of High Brunka Marya’s hand.

  It was true! The high brunka was a mansioner, too!

  IT pushed ITs bowl away. “I further contend that you made your claim to force the thieves to expose themselves, and the bumps on your head are proof of your success.”

  The high brunka’s smile widened, but she didn’t answer.

  “I have eaten my fill, and now, Madam, I should like to see the Replica. Please bring the pedestal as well so there is no danger of a fresh disaster on Zertrum.”

  The high brunka left the great hall with four of her bees.

  “Elodie, what do you deduce from this?”

  She knew instantly and was shocked. “High Brunka Marya is willing for at least four bees to know where the Replica is hidden.” How could she be careless again?

  “Precisely.”

  While she was gone, His Lordship stood and stepped away from the table. Ludda-bee and another bee cleared the meal, and several other bees dismantled the table.

  High Brunka Marya returned holding the Replica. The four bees carried the heavy marble pedestal between them.

  “Unite the pedestal and the Replica, if you please.”

  They did.

  “Ah. Beautiful,” IT said, “and the workmanship is superb.”

  Elodie admired the Replica anew. The whole sculpture was no more than nine inches long, three or four inches wide, solid gold, curved as Lahnt was curved, spired with Lahnt’s seven mountains in a line. The beauty lay not so much in the gold or even in the jewels that ran along the mountainous spine, but in the detail: the cliffs and crags marked with thin lines of rock fissures, the tiny evergreen forests, the specks of boulders.

  “Masteress?” Elodie touched Zertrum on the Replica. “Do you think the real mountain is different now from the way it is here?”

  “Mmm. It cannot—”

  “Let me see, lamb.” The high brunka leaned in close. “Bees and ants! The Replica is altered. The mouth of the volcano is flatter, and right here there used to be a forest.” She pointed.

  “What about the south slope?” Master Tuomo said, coming to stand next to her. “Can you see where Nockess was?”

  “I can’t tell, dear.”

  “Fascinating,” IT said.

  Bees and guests crowded close to see.

  IT tapped a claw impatiently on ITs elbow. “Step away, if you please.”

  Only the high brunka hesitated.

  “If you do not trust me now, Madam, you have learned nothing.”

  She backed away.

  Flames flickered about ITs snout. IT aimed a jet of white fire at the base of the Replica.

  Elodie deduced what IT was about: saving Lahnt forever.

  “Is IT . . .” Master Robbie whispered in her ear.

  She smiled at him. “I think so.”

  After a minute IT turned the pedestal while continuing to flame, until the fire had licked the base of the Replica all around.

  Finally IT swallowed ITs flame. “High Brunka Marya, Lahnt no longer needs to hide the Replica, and you can never again be indiscreet about its location. It is now inseparable from its base. Zertrum is safe for perpetuity. You may thank me.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

  The morning after His Lordship and Masteress Meenore returned to the Oase, they left again, along with Elodie, Albin, Nesspa (who would protect his master from the Potluck Farm cat), Master Tuomo, Mistress Sirka, and Goodman Dror. Mistress Sirka was going to help her beloved set up as a peddler, and they were to be wed.

  The afternoon before they left, Goodman Dror explained his change of heart to High Brunka Marya in the great hall. Elodie hovered nearby to listen, in case she might someday mansion an excitable character who never knew her own mind and was easily influenced.

  “I thought you loved being a bee,” the high brunka said. “I’m sorry to lose you.”

  “You are?”

  Mistress Sirka, standing at his side, prompted, “You didn’t like it that High Brunka Marya could stop you from helping farmers. Bees have to listen to brunkas.”

  “That’s right. Mistress Sirka says a peddler is his own master.”

  Elodie hid her smile. The husband of a barber-surgeon who dispensed love potions would not be his own master.

  “And you adore me,” she reminded him.

  He nodded. “Yes, I do.”

  Perhaps it would go well. She adored him.

  After this exchange, Master Robbie asked Elodie to help him shovel snow outside. Below the stairs, they began to clear a path from the stable to the cottage.

  “Master Tuomo offered to be my guardian. He said a man can’t have too many sons.”

  Really!

  “But I’m staying at the Oase.”

  She was glad. He’d be safe, and he could give his affection freely to the bees he liked; he wouldn’t be obliged to love any particular one.

  “Whenever a barber-surgeon comes, I’ll watch him or her. The high brunka says I’ll have tasks, too. It will be like working at an inn, the way I used to help Grandmother.” He plunged on. “We can start an inn together someday if detecting and barbering disappoint us.”

  Lambs and calves! What to say? Elodie threw snow to the side to give herself time.

  She didn’t know if she’d ever see him again after they left the Oase. She liked him, too, but not enough to become an innkeeper.

  What to say? She shoveled harder, her back to him.

  She couldn’t answer as herself or she’d stammer in confusion. Mansion a heroine who’d know what to do. Which one?

  Penelope! A heroine who excelled at putting suitors off without discouraging them.

  She stopped shoveling.

  Now h
is back was to her.

  “Master Robbie?”

  He turned, his face red. “I didn’t mean— You may not—”

  “Hush.” As Penelope, she had dignity and assurance. “Detecting and mansioning will always please me, but someday I may be in need of an original mind. Will you come?”

  “Wherever you are, I’ll come, by fast horse or quick cog.”

  “Thank you.” Then, imagining Master Robbie as Odysseus, the hero of Penelope’s tale, she leaned toward him and kissed his rosy cheek.

  Master Tuomo chafed at the oxen’s slow pace and remained with Elodie’s party for only an hour before setting forth alone.

  “Farewell.” He bowed to all of them from his horse, rode off, wheeled, and came back. “Before I go, Masteress, if you have charge of the girl, take my advice: Treat her as you would your steed. Rein her in, and do not let her have her head.” He left them.

  IT enh enh enhed for several minutes. “As if I could do without your head, Lodie.”

  Goodman Dror and Mistress Sirka stayed with the oxcarts for three days, riding their donkeys as close as the beasts would go to ITs warmth. When they rounded the southern slope of Svye Mountain, however, they said their good-byes. The farm cottage of Mistress Sirka’s parents, where the two would be wed, squatted in the valley below the road.

  Two days later, the oxcarts reached the caves where the people of Zertrum had gone for safety, and where some still sheltered, planning to pass the winter before rebuilding their homes in the spring. Widow Fridda and her daughters were there, and each bestowed a hug on His Lordship. Other folks crowded around, patted his leg, tried to pump his hand. Elodie had never seen him look so happy—

  —or Masteress Meenore so vexed. ITs smoke stayed a bright pink and ITs tail twitched the whole time, as people coughed, smiled, bowed, and waved. Luckily for them, ITs odor kept folks from coming close enough for conversation.

  The remaining journey to Potluck Farm took a week, slower than it might have, because the road around Zertrum was still obscured by haze and was blocked here and there by boulders that His Lordship and the oxen had to work together to remove.