“Well, I never!” she said, wagging her finger at the bird, who looked like it might die of fright. “You need to be more careful, or what you catch might end up catching you.” When she was finished, the poor thing scuttled away to a safe distance on foot before taking off again.
“Brinley,” Tabitha said, brushing herself off. “Don’t tell Belsie about that, okay? Oh, what do you have there?” She picked up the little bird from Brinley’s wrist and became instantly excited. “Why, it’s Peanut!”
“Who?” Brinley asked, peering at the bird.
“Peanut,” Tabitha said. “I trained him to carry messages between us and Archibald.”
Brinley blinked, remembering how Archibald had said they had devised a way to communicate with each other. “Archibald can talk to birds?”
Tabitha gave a weary sigh. “Not very well, though I’ve been coaching him. But Peanut is a wonderful listener, aren’t you, Peanut?” she said, smiling at him. She dug into the pocket of her dress and brought out a small handful of seed, which the bird took to at once.
“Well,” Brinley said after a moment. “What does he say?”
“Give him a minute,” Tabitha said protectively.
Brinley sighed and began to tap her foot, but the bird finished the seeds quickly and then began to sing.
“Oh, my,” Tabitha said, nodding encouragingly. “And then what happened?”
After what seemed like an incredible amount of time, Tabitha began to translate. “He says that Archibald arrived in Ninebridge and found his acquaintance, but that the person—a cat, yes?—ran from him, and now he’s chasing it.”
“A cat?” Brinley asked, bewildered. “What is he doing chasing a cat?”
Tabitha tweeted something to the bird and it sang a reply. “Oh,” she said, nodding. “It’s a magical cat.”
“Is he in any danger?” Brinley asked.
“It sounds like it,” Tabitha returned a moment later.
“Well, then send Peanut back and make sure he’s okay.”
Tabitha nodded. She chatted with the bird for another minute and then released it to the sky. “What now?” she asked, looking around. “Are we going to camp?”
Brinley shook her head. “I’m not tired. I just had a nap. You?”
“No,” Tabitha said. “Being a fish is very restful.”
“Hey, that’s right,” Brinley said, remembering. “I didn’t even know you could be a fish! When did you learn that?”
Tabitha’s eyes went wide. She had never told Brinley about her accidental trip into the nymph kingdom to rescue Archibald. There were many things that she had learned there, about Archibald being Brinley’s father, about Brinley’s mother growing up in the nymph kingdom. She had promised Archibald that she would say nothing about it. It was his business anyway, finding a way to tell his daughter. She hadn’t known how to tell Brinley how she had promised to find the old Magemother, either. It didn’t seem necessary to talk about it, since that’s what they were doing anyway. It hadn’t seemed necessary to talk about any of it, in fact.
Brinley waved a hand in front of her face. “Tabitha? There you are. I was just saying how I didn’t know you could turn into a fish. That’s very hard, isn’t it? I thought you wouldn’t learn fish for a while yet.”
Tabitha nodded. “Belsie taught me,” she said simply.
Brinley beamed at her. “You never cease to amaze me, Tabitha. I never know what you’ll turn into next.”
Tabitha’s face went blank again. She was thinking of another creature she had formed, a shape she had taken in that dream world of the nymphs. She rarely let herself think about it. She never wanted to take that shape again, but at the same time she couldn’t wait for the moment when it would be necessary. The power of it, the freedom. It was exhilarating, unlike any other creature she had formed…and it was terrifying. She didn’t trust herself as much in that shape. Even now, she remembered the ancient craving for flight, for fire, and for death.
“Tabitha?”
Tabitha snapped back, seeing Brinley again. “Oh,” she said. “What?”
Brinley just smiled.
Tabitha shook herself, trying to remember what they had been talking about. “So,” she said. “Since we’re not tired, what will we do? Look at more lakes?”
“No more lakes,” Brinley said. She pulled out the wooden button that Maggie had given her and twirled it between her fingers. “I want to do something. Let’s fly.”
Tabitha took the swan shape again and they took flight, banking high over the lake. “Where do you want to go?”
“Back to Caraway,” she said. “I have an idea.”
Chapter Ten
In which Hugo skips rocks
Hugo and his companions camped on a little hill overlooking a lake. The sun was going down and Hugo sat apart from the other two in a foul mood. The day had not gone well at all. Animus had insisted on silence so that Hugo could listen to the sun, but for all his listening, he hadn’t heard a thing. He knew that Animus expected more progress, given his breakthrough that morning, but it just hadn’t come.
Hugo picked up a rock and chucked it into the lake. The sunset was beautiful, but he couldn’t see it, focused as he was on his frustrations. The only good thing that had happened that day, other than showing Cannon a thing or two about swordplay, was when Brinley had contacted him.
Shortly after they were on the road that morning she had reached out to him with a story about the Mage of Water. Apparently she had been searching Calypsis when she had come across a painting of a lake in Unda’s room. For whatever reason, she thought that’s where he might be hiding. She wanted to know if anyone recognized it, but no one had. Since then Hugo couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew where that lake was. He had been wrestling with it all day without success, like a forgotten word stuck on the tip of his tongue.
He tossed another rock at the water, skipping it across the surface this time. He smiled. Nine skips. Not bad.
A bird floated down from the evening air and alighted upon the water, and Hugo watched it, letting his mind go blank. The bird circled the little lake and dipped its head in, splashed water on its back, and dove for its dinner as Hugo watched. Finally, when the bird had glided around to the bank nearest him, it turned an eye on Hugo. Something in the gesture, the eye staring at him from the lake, triggered something. He sat bolt upright and gave a small shout. The bird squawked and darted away, glancing over its shoulder at him in annoyance.
From the fire, Animus called, “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Hugo said, waving his hand. “Everything’s fine.” He forced himself to sit back down, struggling to contain his excitement.
BRINLEY! he shouted, throwing his mind across the distance between himself and the Magemother.
Hugo? her voice came back quietly. Is that you?
I just realized where your lake is, he said, excitement bubbling out in his words. I was just sitting here, staring at this little lake, and it reminded me of another lake, and it hit me. Brinley, Unda’s lake is the Lake of Eyes!
Really? she asked. Are you sure?
I think so, he said. And it doesn’t surprise me either. Brinley, I never told you—I forgot, I guess, with everything that happened—but on the night that we met Peridot at the Lake of Eyes, I saw something…
What? she prompted.
Eyes. Big ones…They came up out of the lake and sort of watched me—I know it sounds ridiculous, but that’s what I saw—I mean, it’s called the Lake of Eyes, after all, so why shouldn’t it watch you, right? I think there is something living in that lake, Brinley, and I’m almost certain it’s the lake in the painting.
Hmm, she said, and Hugo guessed that she was studying the picture. Well, it doesn’t really look like the Lake of Eyes to me. I’ve only been there once, though. We’ll go check it out. I think Tabitha will want to go anyway, just because of the eyes. She’ll want to know what sort of creature has eyes like that. I expect she’ll think it’s her se
a dragon. How many eyes did you see? Please don’t say two.
Dozens, Hugo said, grinning.
Poor Tabitha. Maybe I won’t tell her.
Poor you if those creatures are mean, and their bodies are as big as their eyes, Hugo said. Be careful.
I will, she said. Hugo, how are you feeling? Has anything new happened with our mutual friend?
Hugo thought about it. About the mirror, and what Animus had said about the name.
No, he said before he could stop himself. I mean, yes. But I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t think I can talk about it yet. I need to figure it out first. How about you? Learn anything new?
Brinley told him of her suspicions about where Lignumis might be and filled him in about what she had learned from Habis about the bark. He probably didn’t need to know, but she was talking and he was listening, so she rambled on as long as she could. When she had run out of things to say, she was silent, but neither of them broke the connection.
After a while, Brinley said, Hugo, if being a mage without a master to train you is anything like being the Magemother without a Magemother to teach me, then I think it must be very hard. But we still have each other. Don’t forget that.
Hugo nodded, then said, Yeah, when he remembered that she couldn’t see him nodding. At her words, something moved inside him, something like gratitude, friendship, kindness, but different. He was glad that she understood.
Good night, Brinley, he said, and made his way to the fire to join the others.
He felt better. It was talking to Brinley that had done it; he would be able to sleep now. “Hey,” he said, sitting down, “it turns out today wasn’t a total waste of time. Brinley and I just figured out where Unda’s lake is.”
Chapter Eleven
In which a foundation is laid
“I need you to help me build a house,” Brinley said. She was standing with Cassis and Tabitha in a little secluded clearing in the trees outside the city of Cornith, with Caraway Castle gleaming in the valley beyond.
Cassis looked wary. Evidently this was not what he was expecting. “A house?”
Brinley nodded. “A house. I want you teach me about rock and metal, and help me build a house. It will be a special house. Each of the mages will help me. It will be a gift that only the Magemother could give.”
Tabitha beamed in sudden comprehension. “For Mad Maggie!” she exclaimed. “Oh, this is wonderful! I’m going to build birdhouses for her garden.” She scampered off into the trees in search of supplies.
Cassis cocked an eyebrow. “Mad Maggie?”
Brinley nodded. “A homeless woman in the city.”
Cassis fiddled with his robe thoughtfully, avoiding her gaze. “I will honor your wishes, of course,” he said. “But you should know that I do not approve of giving things to people for free. I think that they are better served by learning how to provide for themselves.”
Brinley nodded thoughtfully. “I don’t think she’s that kind of person. She works for her keep now, little as it is. She works the grinding wheels in a blacksmith’s shop.”
Cassis brightened. “She works with metal? That is good.”
Brinley nodded. “We can build her a workshop here.”
Cassis was rolling up his sleeves. “Yes. If her work is good, she’ll be close enough to the city to bring in business.”
“Where do we begin?” she asked.
Cassis smiled. “At the beginning,” he said. And with that, he began to teach her of stone.
She learned that every stone had its own consciousness, and that a new mind was born when a stone was broken or chipped or hewn away from its former self. Death, she found, was a thing that stone knew nothing of. Each piece remembered where it had come from, its lineage from mountain to boulder to river rock.
“Stones have long memories,” Cassis explained, and he taught her how to feel the life in a rock and place a memory inside of it so that she could carry it with her always.
She watched him as he drew hard, pure stone out of the earth in the center of the clearing and spread it across the ground like quicksilver. The liquid stone melded twigs and leaves as it passed, and it smelled like burning chalk. She guided him sometimes, and other times he created as he saw fit. They laid the foundation of a root cellar and gave her a round, comfortably sized living room and a short, narrow kitchen with a round stone window overlooking the city. On the side of the house Cassis drew out a long flat table of stone on the ground. Walls grew out of it on three sides, with the fourth left open, a pillar rising out of it to support the roof.
“It’s beautiful,” Brinley said appreciatively, laying a hand on his shoulder.
He breathed in deeply. “Ah, it feels good to create again. My mind has been riddled with questions of bridges and stone for too long.”
Brinley smiled. “I’m glad you had fun.”
“Fun?” he said thoughtfully, as if he was trying to remember what the word meant. “Yes. I suppose I did.” He gave a sharp laugh like a dog barking. “I can’t say that I’ve had this much fun since Chantra left.”
Brinley’s ears perked up. “Chantra?” she asked. “Were you two close?”
He shrugged. “Close enough,” he said. “It is hard to be very close with someone so much younger than yourself, but we spent a fair amount of time together. I was her favorite, I think.”
Brinley sat down on the now cool stone of Maggie’s new home. “I didn’t know that,” she said. “Can you tell me about her?”
Cassis leaned against the corner of the house thoughtfully. A hand strayed to his pointed gray beard, twisting it. “She was always on the move, Chantra. Always learning. Always wanting to see something new.” He barked a laugh. “And she loved rubies. I was always bringing them to her when I found them, and she was always wanting more. I remember the last time I saw her she was trying to get me to teach her how to see inside one.”
“See inside it?”
Cassis nodded. “There is a whole world inside of a stone,” he said. “Most never learn to find it. It is simple for me, being what I am, but it is a great feat of wizardry for others to see inside of a stone, much less enter it.”
Brinley blinked, startled. “What do you mean? Go inside it?” she asked.
He nodded, grinning. “Like I said, there is a whole world inside of a stone. If you could enter a cut gemstone you would find yourself in a place like a palace of glass, full of memory, patience, and peace.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “I spent a whole winter inside the emerald ring of the king of Caraway once, when I was young. I never told him.”
Brinley laughed. “And Chantra wanted to go inside a ruby? That makes sense. Her whole room was red. In fact, almost everything she owned was red. And she did have several rubies, come to think of it.”
Cassis nodded. “If there is any stone with fire in it, it is a ruby. I think she saw it as the bridge between our worlds, hers and mine. She wanted desperately to live in one. She said she would carry her house with her wherever she went.” He laughed again. “I think she would have figured it out too, if I’d had more time to teach her.” His face fell.
Brinley put a hand on his arm. “You will,” she said. “You’ll still get your chance.”
“Is she alive?” he asked, giving her a piercing look. “Can you feel her out there?”
“Yes,” Brinley said. “I can’t find her, but she’s definitely there.”
Cassis relaxed, looking up at the house. It looked like a ruin, nothing but a stone skeleton, but it had promise. “You are off to a good start,” he said. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “This is a kind thing to do,” he said quietly. “Something your mother would have done.”
Brinley felt her heart swell. Like my mother, she thought. Maybe things would turn okay after all. She surveyed the house. It was going to work, she thought. If nothing else, she could do this right.
A scraping sound made them both jump. Brinley turned and saw there was a bear walking towards them
. A giant pile of twigs and bark and river rock was lashed to his back with string, and he grunted under the weight of it. Brinley’s eyes grew wide, staring as the beast grunted under the heavy load. When he reached them, he raised a sharp claw and severed the string, dumping his burden on the ground.
Tabitha trotted out of the woods behind it and patted it on the back. “Thanks,” she said brightly. “I couldn’t have done it without you!”
The bear sauntered back into the woods without a backward glance.
“I got supplies!” Tabitha said. “Oh, are we done? It’s beautiful! It looks cold, though.” She rubbed her arms with her hands, eyeing the open roof and the empty doors and windows. “Drafty.”
Cassis gave her a wry smile. “Doors of stone are difficult to open,” he said, “but there will be windows later, I think.” He glanced sideways at Brinley. “And a roof of glass, if need be.”
Brinley shook her head. “Windows, yes. But I will need to find Lignumis to build the roof. We will need wood. There’s no way around that. We’ll find him,” she added firmly, and Cassis nodded.
“I’m sure you will,” he said.
“Tabitha,” Brinley said, “the birdhouses will have to wait. We need to return Cassis to Ninebridge, and then we need to go to the Lake of Eyes. Hugo has remembered where Unda’s lake is.”
“Really?” Tabitha said. “The Lake of Eyes?” She clapped her hands. “That’s wonderful!” Then she yawned, and as her mouth opened it changed into the open beak of the black swan again. She turned, allowing Brinley to climb onto her back. Brinley fingered a small pebble in her hand as they rose into the sky.
Chapter Twelve
In which Hugo talks to himself in a mirror
Hugo spent the next day of his journey walking through field after field of sunflowers. The flowers were small at first, coming up to their knees, but by afternoon they were passing through fields in which the flowers stood taller than a man. They produced the best seeds in the land, Hugo knew. He had heard of their size, but had never seen them in person. He bent a stalk as they walked and began to pick seeds out of the flower’s face.
Magemother: The Complete Series (A Fantasy Adventure Book Series for Kids of All Ages) Page 42
