The Mage's Daughter 2: Book Two: Enlightenment

by LeRoy Clary

  Since he had managed to escape from the ship his father had found for him and returned to Gallium to do her harm, the situation became malignant. The idea he had managed to track them down in the vast city, even more frightening.

  Maude listened until the end, and then Sara added what she knew. Maude didn’t seem nearly as upset as earlier. She said, “Okay, your stories are compelling, but here’s what I think. Jam was put on the new ship, but it had to return to port for some reason, probably a torn sail or leak in the hull. Perhaps even because of his actions. He may have caused the ship harm. Jam then managed to slip off, which would not be that difficult. They would not know of his slipperiness. He probably returned to his father’s ship but didn’t board. He watched.”

  “But he found us,” Prin said. “And we left as soon as the ship went into drydock before he could have returned.”

  “Because he watched the ship, and he knew the regular routine for refitting, he knew all the regular cargo bound for Gallium was already unloaded. The remainder was to be placed in secure storage until the ship was completed. So, when your crates, the very ones he’d already ransacked, were removed from the hold, he knew they were going to be delivered to you. He simply followed or bribed the driver for the destination. Nothing deviant or magical.”

  Both Prin and Sara relaxed.

  Maude continued, “Yes, nothing out of the ordinary or exceptional, but you have to give the boy credit, he is persistent. And a danger to you.”

  “What should we do,” Prin asked.

  “Nothing. Both of you will remain in the house. We may request our Iron Ring friends to escort Brice to a ship ready to sail when the time comes, just to prevent Jam from doing anything rash. I expect Jam to wait until the last minute before the Merry Princess sails and rush to his father and ask forgiveness and the return of his berth, but if his father is any sort of captain, he’ll refuse.”

  Sara said, “Well, that doesn’t sound so bad.”

  “Not that,” Maude said. “It’s what he’ll end up doing since he cannot collect the reward. He will try to make deals with those searching for you. He’ll do that out of anger, spite, and jealousy.”

  Brice said, “I can throw a few punches his way.”

  “No need,” Maude said. “I think I have this under control. I will need to tag Jam for safety, but the events will then carry out, and I’ll step in and make sure he does as his father intended.”

  Sara said, “I understood very little of that. But what about making him forget about us? With a spell?”

  Maude said, “Spells wear off. He will remember and still manage to cause you problems. Remember, you will remain here for several years.”

  “Maybe another spell?”

  Maude said, “The three of you will remain inside these walls, I say again. I’ll slip out and place a small tag-spell that will let me follow him. When the time is right, I’ll cast a couple of spells on the boy, and arrange for him to sail on another ship, one leaving soon.”

  “He’ll still tell everyone about us,” Prin said. “All on his new ship, and in every port.”

  Maude laughed as if she enjoyed Prin’s comments. Then she said, “We have teaching and learning to do every day, but Brice’s comes first. As for the forget-spell, what happens after a day?”

  “He remembers.” Sara didn’t sound happy as she said it.

  “A good sorceress chooses her spells wisely. Jam is a boy in search of respect, and there is the flaw we will capitalize upon. The spell I think may work best is one that will make him tell his stories larger than life. He’ll talk about climbing the tallest mountains, catching the eye of princesses, making trades that are legendary, and more. His crewmates will quickly figure that out, and anything he says about the two of you will be ignored as more fabrication.”

  “Really?” Prin asked. “You have identified his weakness and will use it to destroy his credibility. That’s worth knowing how to do.”

  Maude said, “There is a time for punching, but more often than not, problems can be solved by using your mind. Now, Brice, suppose the two of us go into my workshop, and you learn something to fill your mind with wonder and knowledge.”

  They entered the workshop together while Sara and Prin sat. Sara handed Prin a book and said, “Read.”

  “What is it?”

  “How do we know until you read it?”

  With a sigh, Prin began sounding out words, but her reluctance quickly turned to enjoyment as she repeatedly read and sounded out unknown words. Sara poured tea from the bottomless pot and tried to find how the spell worked.

  Prin finally looked up and said, “Will the captain be mad that we put Jam on another ship?”

  “More likely, he’ll be upset with Jam, if he ever finds out. If Maude manages to capture him before the Merry Princess sails, he will not know until Jam arrives back in Indore, and then it will be what he wanted to do with Jam in the first place.”

  Prin said, “Good. He shouldn’t be unhappy with us.” She stood and stretched. “I’m going to look out back.” She opened the rear door and slipped outside, grabbing a handful of red cherries hanging on the tree as she strode past it. The cherry pits she’d spit the day before were gone. The grass appeared as if a gardener had just finished a day’s work.

  The grounds were calming, and she detected more spells as she moved. The stretch-spell that made it larger, of course, but she also detected the yellow haze on top of the brick wall. She climbed a tree near it and looked over the top. The wall was wide, almost a full step, and broken glass was embedded in the mortar. Anyone attempting to climb over it was going to hurt.

  A white thread circled the garden faded into, and out of, view. She cocked her head and realized that while she heard no talking or shouting from outside, no birds flew into the garden, so none sang. It was quiet. Too, quiet.

  A word sprang to mind. Artificial. The garden was not real. The plants were frozen at the perfect time, the sounds muffled, the wall protected from intruders, and even the grass didn’t need cutting. No gophers, ants, or stinging bees. Each flower and fruit perfect. Artificial. She found she didn’t like it. Imperfections were the way of life. A curled leaf, or spot on an apple to cut away was real.

  One tree trunk stood almost as round as a man. She drew her knife and let it fly. It struck point first . . .then fell to the ground without a sound. The spell placed on the tree wouldn’t even allow a regular knife to penetrate. That reminded her of the arrows Sara used; the ones that never missed. She intended to try the same spell on her knife, someday. But she still needed a Treeman to practice.

  Brice returned from the workroom, looking mentally weary and mumbling about air, water, fire, and earth. His fingernails looked singed by fire, his shirt had black smudges and small burn holes, and without saying anything, he went directly to his bedroom, his eyes blank.

  Maude entered the main room and shrugged at Sara. “Learning is not always easy and can be painful.”

  Sara turned her eyes to Prin. “Perhaps you should sit in with them and maybe learn something?”

  Maude said, “You’re both welcome. It may show you how your sometimes adversaries do things, but the training is for a mage so you won’t be able to duplicate any. Besides, you will both have all you can do to keep up with me when your turns arrive in a few weeks.”

  Prin returned Sara’s questioning look and then said, “Still, I’d like to watch.”

  Maude agreed, but added, “Like Sara, I believe the most important thing you can do to help yourself is read. You are a stumbling beginner, but if half of every day is dedicated to reading, your skills will improve quickly.”

  Sara said, “I have a question. In one of the journals, there was a spell about growing hair.”

  “There are many, perhaps hundreds of spells to make a woman more beautiful,” Maude said. “I haven’t bothered learning any because they seem useless to me, but then, I’ve never shaved my head.”

  “Can we take a look at one?” Sara
asked.

  “Oh, more than one, dear. You see, I catalog every spell, by the type of spell, the sorceress I learned it from, the category, and even the major ingredients. Any of those may point me to a spell I first learned at your age but never used again. I consider cataloging and cross-cataloguing as important as learning. Of what use is a spell if you cannot recall the ingredients or incantation? Or where to find it?”

  Sara wiped her hand over her head along the black stubbles sprouting. “This used to be silky black and hung half way down my back.”

  “And Prin was blonde, I see. It’s time to either shave it off again or do something about it.”

  “Do something,” Sara squealed.

  “Tomorrow. After I work with Brice. But now, I have another task. Forgive me for a moment.” Maude walked into her bedroom and returned wearing a long gray robe decorated with a bright red leather belt. She wore a floppy hat with artificial flowers springing from it, and her face was several shades darker, her nose bulbous, and her skin wrinkled.

  Prin said, “What are you doing?”

  “Going for a walk.”

  After the door had closed behind her, Prin said, “What was that all about?”

  Sara smirked. “I think she is going to find Jam. She didn’t want to be recognized.”

  “Why?”

  “Remember, she mentioned a tag, putting a tracker on him? I’ll bet that’s her goal, but I have no idea of what it is or how it works.”

  “But she did say she had to put a tracker on him, not a spell or something else,” Prin agreed. “I suspect it is something like a coin that has been enchanted that she will slip into his purse. And, I like your idea about us having hair, by the way, but have a couple of things to say. We can’t grow our old colors without being recognized, and the styles have to be different.” Prin watched the front window and waited for Sara’s response.

  “Agreed.”

  “Did you notice her nose?”

  Sara laughed, “How could I not?”

  “Maybe she can help us with that, too. Make us look older, or a give us noses like hers, so nobody will think I’m me. I also want a spell on my knife like the one on your arrows that can’t miss. And a new Treeman.”

  Sara laughed again. “Okay, those things sound reasonable, but the spell on my arrows is cast on wood, which was once alive. I don’t know any spells that work on iron, but maybe Maude can help.”

  Prin accepted the explanation while dreading what was to come. She had seen the iron knife in her father’s apartment with the spell that whatever it cut never healed, but that must have been done by a mage. Since she was at least, part mage, could she duplicate it?

  Should she ask Maude? But, while Maude hadn’t come out and said it directly, Prin believed she suspected Prin was both a mage and sorceress, and had hinted at it more than once.

  Actually, Prin had two secrets to worry over. She believed she had the powers of a mage, at least some of them. And, she knew of no other way to investigate those powers but to observe things only mages would do and try those herself. But if she was honest with Maude, together they could try to explore the limits of her powers. Admitting her powers to any mage would probably cost her life the instant he knew. Their reaction would be swift to protect their male domain.

  The second secret concerned her lineage to the crown. Only Sara knew of that, and perhaps she should keep it that way. The fewer who knew, the better, and the less they could reveal if taken by an enemy.

  Sitting on the sofa sipping tea quietly gave her the opportunity to plan and think. She could ask Sara for her opinion, but she didn’t wish to depend on her too much or place unnecessary burdens on her. She needed to reason things out for herself, and the answers seemed obvious. Maude would figure out her mage magic sooner or later. She should simply tell her and not risk offending her by keeping it to herself. To do otherwise would break their trust.

  But wouldn’t withholding the fact she was not only a princess but probably the next queen, also be a betrayal to Maude? Her mother had schooled her in court politics when she was young. She had often told Prin that a lie can be both something told, or something not told. The phrase she used was a lie by omission. Prin remembered that because of the confusion in her mind, and her mother had died before Prin understood it, but her mother had stressed the importance of the concept.

  It had been a long time since the image of her sitting beside her mother listening to her talk about the subject, but Prin saw it clearly in her mind. So precise were the memories, she knew exactly who wore which dress. And those memories solidified her decision.

  Maude was to be her friend, benefactor, and teacher. Instead of looking at the subject from Prin’s understanding, she needed to look at it from Maude’s. How would Maude feel if she found out either of the secrets? Would she ask them to leave? If so, she had every right.

  Besides the apparent betrayal, there was a danger. Maude knew people were searching for her, but not why. If Jam or some lame second-rate mage brought troops down on Maude’s home, it would be Prin’s fault.

  “Sara, listen to me,” Prin said in a tone that drew Sara away from her studies. “I have to tell Maude I am a mage and a princess.”

  “I know.” Sara turned back to her book as if she had expected Prin to arrive at that decision.

  Even though she hadn’t shared the information with Maude, it felt like her lungs could finally draw in a bull breath. A smile formed. She was going to do the right thing, and nobody had counseled her. She was growing up.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Both Prin and Sara were hard at their studies when Maude strolled in the front door, the disguise with the dark skin, wrinkles, and huge nose dissolving into her regular features as she entered the room. Prin watched the transformation and realized that Maude was such an accomplished sorceress that the image they saw of her daily might not be the real Maude.

  Prin looked closer. Maude might be any age, color, height, and so on. She shook it off because of having withheld information about herself from Maude. There was the trust issue in a nutshell. She felt guilty not telling all, and now suspected Maude of doing the same.

  Prin said, “You put a tag on him?”

  “And you’re beating your head against the wall wondering what that is?” Maude chuckled. “What have you come up with so far?”

  “Sara thinks you enchanted a coin and slipped it into his pocket, so you know when the coin is close.”

  Maude said, “Splendid idea. But, what if he spends the coin and I follow another person who holds the coin? Perhaps more than one exchange would have me chasing all over Gallium.”

  Sara said, “I told her that as an example.”

  “Liar,” Prin teased.

  Maude said, “Well, you’re almost right. It is very close to a coin. I placed a simple find-me spell on a couple of burrs from the weeds at the side of the road. I call it a tag. He was standing near the top of the hill trying to locate a vantage where he can see down into my garden. Of course, I made sure there is no such place, but as his concentration was centered on his task, I walked past and accidentally brushed against him, as I put one burr under the collar of his shirt. Then, while apologizing for my clumsiness, I dropped a glove and while retrieving it, placed the other in the cuff of his pants.”

  Prin said, “How will you track him? How does it work?”

  Maude sat primly on the edge of the sofa. “Technically, since I am your instructor, I will not track him, but I will track the burrs I tagged. I can sense them with the spell.” She pointed off to her left. “They are both right there. As he moves away, they become fainter. Stronger, as he approaches. With a bit of practice, a sorceress can estimate the distance accurately.

  “For how long?” Prin asked.

  “Oh, two days, perhaps a little longer. Most magic fades quickly unless steps are taken to extend the spell, but that is usually either costly or interferes with the spell in some manner.”

  Brice returned from
his nap, interrupting the two secrets Prin intended to share. She had considered sharing them with Brice also, but decided against it. Better if he didn’t know, and besides, it might place him in more danger.

  Maude said, “Are you refreshed?”

  “If you’re asking if I’m ready to learn more magic, the answer is no.” Brice sounded firm and frustrated at the same time, perhaps even angry.

  “Well, dear. You plan to depart in a month, or so. We really need to get you whipped into shape first. I will not be comfortable if you sail without certain necessary skills, and I may prevent you from going without them. It would be far too dangerous for you. And us.”

  That was the first any of them had heard her say about preventing him from leaving. Her tone had subtly changed, and so had her normally relaxed posture. She now sat rigidly forward, her eyes locked on his. For the first time, Prin saw her as more than an interesting old dowager. Prin saw strength and determination, a will that would be obeyed.

  The change took Prin by surprise. So far, Maude had offered her help, made suggestions, and allowed interaction, but that was behind.

  “I’ll do as you say,” Brice said.

  Maude turned to Prin. Her voice cracked like a whip, “You will study with us, too. Now.”

  Prin stood, and noticed the shocked expression on Sara’s face, an expression she quickly hid. Prin followed the two others to the doorway beside the fireplace. Maude paused at the door and turned back to Sara. “Oh, you might as well come, too. There might be something to learn.”

  Inside, Maude strode confidently to a shelf of books and searched for a moment, then pulled one down and opened it, scanning the headings of the pages. “Here we go.”

  She handed the book to Prin. “Read and study that spell. Take care to get it right, and do nothing until Sara independently reads it and the two of you compare your findings. Then we will discuss it—and others.”

  Prin noticed Brice was across the room, sitting on a stool, his eyes locked on something he held in his hand. A candle. He was looking at the wick intently.