The Mage's Daughter 2: Book Two: Enlightenment

by LeRoy Clary

  Prin mouthed softly, “Can you prevent Brice from hearing us for a short time? I need to talk in private.”

  Maude made an intricate wave with her hand, and Brice seemed to sleep while sitting. “Go on.”

  Her tone of voice was again that of a gentle grandmother, somewhat fawning and overly protective. Prin hesitated, then decided to plunge in. “Sara knows most of what I’m going to tell you about me, but I want her to remain quiet because I have much to say about our situation. Will Brice be okay for a while?”

  “He will be all right as long as you do not talk until sundown.”

  Maude’s tone had returned to snippy, but that couldn’t be helped. Prin faced Maude and said, “We have secrets, you and me. If we’re going to live together for three, four or even five years, we need to talk about them now. There must be trust between us.”

  Maude crossed her arms over her chest and remained silent.

  Prin glanced at Sara and ignored the little head shake. “When I look at you, I see a woman of fifty, but when I saw you today with the wrinkles and big nose, I wondered. Then I looked at your hands when you held your cup. They are not the hands of a fifty-year-old woman.”

  Prin saw the widening of Sara’s eyes, but she said nothing. Prin waited, determined to be as stone-faced as Maude. After waiting and taking several deep breaths, Maude’s features softened and changed to those of a woman nearer thirty, a lovely lady with a long straight nose, full lips, and classic features. She still said nothing.

  Prin said, “I believe you know and suspect part of my secrets. I do not know what I am, a sorceress or mage, or both. I’m only twelve, but I know something strange is going on with me.”

  Maude pursed her lips.

  Prin held up her index finger, and a tiny flame appeared. Maude’s eyes went to it and gawked. The flame was no higher than a speck. To further impress Maude and make her understand, Prin half-closed her eyes and drew heat from her hand and arm, clear up to her shoulder. The flame erupted as if oil had been thrown on it, rising taller than her head, the heat causing both to draw back.

  It scared Prin, and she quickly extinguished it. But her finger tingled, her hand hurt, and her arm ached. They all felt cold. The silly stunt had drawn so much heat, even for the few instants of existence, she knew she would suffer for hours.

  Sara mouthed, “The gods below are dancing.”

  Maude said, “How is that possible?”

  “I don’t know. But you suspected I was different.”

  “I thought you perhaps stronger. A potential master sorceress. There has never been a woman mage, but I have seen it for myself. You are a sorceress, too. There has never been such a thing.”

  Tears started streaming down Prin’s cheeks, but she didn’t stop talking. “That’s not all. I am a princess. My mother hid me from the royal court and then died, but my true father came to me and took me to meet the king. I was placed on the role of succession and will follow him, his son, and two ancient relatives to the throne. If I survive.”

  “This is so much—all at once.”

  Prin wailed, “My real name is Hannah, spelled the same frontwards or backwards. Hannah, which means princess in the old language. We changed my name to help us hide. Also, Sara’s name is really Sage. We are so scared.” The words came out in a tumble, tangled and jumbled in her hurry to relay the truth and correct the past lies.

  Maude said, “Calm down, Prin. Those people after you? They are trying to kill you because of all that?”

  “Princess Elenore, the wife of Lord Jeffery, held my position in court before the King brought me forward. If I die, she assumes my place on the throne.”

  “But you said there are three people ahead of you, besides the king. Why would she assume she will be crowned?”

  Prin said, “The King’s son is next, but he will have no children to pass the crown to. It is said he has a handsome boyfriend and will probably refuse the duties of the crown.”

  “I see. The other two?”

  “Henry and Willard, cousins or uncles of mine, I don’t know. Both are old. Henry is near eighty, and Willard a few years younger, but ill.”

  “So, that leaves you, a sorceress and mage of twelve-years-old, an heir to the throne of a far-off land.” Maude made no attempt to move or react. Her furrowed brow told of her concentration as she considered the different aspects of the situation. “There is more?”

  “I’ve put together bits of information from several people and think I understand. Rumors about me have circulated since my birth. Only a few knew of me, my whereabouts, and my possible relationship. I think, to protect me after my mother died, someone placed me in the morning kitchen as the fire starter for the Earl so he could hide me until the time was right.”

  Maude rubbed her chin as she thought. “Powers begin appearing around puberty in boys and girls. Eleven is a little young, but who knows? But there is still a mystery. Has this Princess Elenore the power to order a search for you that is so extensive it carries across oceans?”

  “No. There is another factor. At least a few of the younger mages banded together to overthrow the rightful King, along with some of the other Royalty, probably Princess Elenore. They killed my father, the King’s mage. I have no idea of how that revolt is progressing, but the kingdom may be in an uprising. The King will punish those mages who took part, but his powerful and trusted mage, my father, is dead.”

  Skipping over the information about a kingdom she had never heard of, Maude went right to the relevant point and said, “So, your father was a mage.”

  “One of the most powerful, they say.”

  “Your mother?”

  “A minor member of royalty, and sorceress, some say, but one who rejected all magic. She wouldn’t allow it in our home, and that was the reason she and my father couldn’t live together. Since she was so against it, I’m beginning to think she was a reluctant sorceress.”

  “I’ve always heard that magical powers are not inherited. Could that be wrong?” Maude answered, but she seemed in awe of Prin, almost deferential. “And I’ve never heard of a mage and sorceress having a child.”

  Prin said, “There. I’ve said it all. I hold no more secrets from you.”

  Maude said, “Secrets, no. But there is still much to know. I suspect you’ve questions of me, too, but for now, our time is limited because of Jam, those searching for you, and Brice’s departure. Sara, you study that page and when you think you understand, bring it to us. Prin, you and I will work with Brice.”

  “He cannot know who I am. It will place both of us in danger.”

  “I see. Then observe. We are working on learning to cast.”

  Prin said, “I have not heard that term.”

  “Casting? In short, it is throwing your spell a distance.”

  “Such as?” Prin asked, confused.

  As Maude moved to Brice’s side, she said, “He is new and has had little idea of his potential. We are working on casting a flame from his mind to the taper of the candle. Doing that prevents him from burning his finger, something you need to be aware of.”

  Prin was acutely mindful of the fact that her left hand felt cold, the fingers more so, and still stung, as if she had been out on a cold winter’s night. Her arm ached, as she expected, but she tried to hide it. A bookcase filled with jars, pots, rocks and a dozen other items stood between Brice and Prin. She crouched behind it, watching Brice’s turned back as Maude woke him and she pretended nothing had happened. Prin removed a candle from its holder and followed the instructions Maude gave to Brice. The candle flared to life almost instantly, and she snuffed it nearly as fast. Brice’s did nothing.

  While Maude worked with him, Prin decided to skip the lesson and went to Sara.

  Sara looked up and whispered, “I had no idea she wore a disguise. How did you?”

  “When I saw her age for her trip outside, I noticed that when she returned to her old self, it was not the same one we knew. There were small changes.”

&
nbsp; “Like what?” Sara asked.

  “She has four freckles on the left side of her nose. They make a rectangle, or they did. Now they are a triangle and one off to the side. Freckles don’t change, so I wondered what else she had changed.”

  “It was a guess,” Sara asked.

  “Well, I prefer you credit my inquisitive nature, but yes, it was.” Prin took the book from Sara and sounded out the heading. “Is this how to change hair color?”

  “And how to grow it. I think this spell will grow hair on a log or rock.”

  They exchanged nervous grins. Prin said, “The spell requires dried rosemary flakes. I saw a bottle of that over there,” she pointed.

  “Rosemary? You read that whole word? Are you certain it was not Rose petals?” Sara winked. “Go get the Rosemary. And keep your eyes open for black mushroom spores.”

  “It sounds like we’re making dinner.” She found the jar. “Here are the rosemary flakes. What else?”

  They gathered all the ingredients but small brown snails and tannin. They placed them all together and waited while Maude tried to get Brice to light his candle. He was near tears, and she told him to take a mental break while coming over to the girls.

  She looked at Prin, “Would you come stand beside Brice and gently, very gently, try to guide him to light the candle? Not with words, and don’t let him know, but use your mind to try and lead him?”

  “I’ve never done anything like that.”

  “Well, if it does not work, go ahead and cast a spark to the taper and pretend he did it. Much of what he needs to learn is confidence,” Maude said.

  “Isn’t that lying? Cheating?”

  “Not if it helps him. What do you think?” Maude said.

  Prin said, “We don’t let him know.”

  “No, of course, not. But, I think it may help you, too. We’ll talk after, and I’ll explain. Don’t just make the flame, concentrate on each step of the process.” Maude took her to Brice, who seemed embarrassed and weary.

  He said, “So she’s going to wreck your mind too?”

  Prin giggled. “I hope not.”

  Maude tapped on the table with her fingernail, a quick, sharp sound to draw their attention. “Brice, concentrate on the tip of the taper and imagine sparking it to life like you’re starting a campfire with flint and steel. Close your eyes and peek only enough to keep your focus.”

  But she was looking at Prin. Eyes closed, Prin reached out mentally as if she was going to start the fire and—felt nothing. Then, she felt the smallest of sparks flick into existence, but far too small to do anything. But the sparks were there, as she found several more as if Brice was striking steel to flint in his mind.

  She seized on the origination and found that it was as if Brice was using a rock without flint, yet managed a few weak sparks. She watched the sparks fly past in her imagination, then used the same sort of mental twist she used to make the flame appear on her fingertip, taking the spark of energy and expanding it near the taper.

  The candle flamed to life.

  Brice had been watching it through narrowed eyelids, and he leaped back, as if afraid. “Did I do that?”

  “Well, I didn’t,” Maude told the truth.

  A drip of wax fell and burned his finger, but he didn’t let go of the candle. He focused on the fire and the tip of the candle, exploring and testing, his face twisted with effort. The fire went out.

  Maude looked accusingly at Prin, who shook her head in denial.

  Maude turned back to Brice. “Did you put it out?”

  “Yes, so I can do it again.”

  “But, you did it with your mind? You didn’t touch it or blow on it?”

  Brice sat up straighter. “I just made it stop so I could try again.”

  Maude said, trying to cover for the help Prin provided, “The first time may have been an accident. Don’t get frustrated if it takes a while. You’ll remember how to do it again, just maybe not today.”

  As she finished speaking, the flame came to life again.

  Prin shook her head again.

  Maude said, “Okay, Brice. Now, make it go out.” The flame winked out and a tendril of smoke twisted into the air. “Now, light it.”

  The candle burned. Prin gave him a slap on his shoulder. “My father was a great mage. He said some young mages that come to him for training never learn to control fire, the most essential element. Fire is the first tool men used to climb above all other animals.”

  “They never learn?”

  “That’s what he said,” Prin told him. “It took you one day.”

  Maude said, “She’s right. And now, young man, you need to go lie down and take another long nap. I expect your mind feels like mush.”

  “No, I’m too excited,” he said.

  Maude threw Prin a smile and said, “Okay, then sit in that chair over there in the corner and take a short break.”

  Prin turned to find a big, overstuffed chair she had never noticed in one corner. Brice went to it, and they waited until his soft snores filtered to them, which only took a few moments.

  Maude said, “He is exhausted. I’m going to put this candle on that table in front of him, so when he wakes up, he can light it. I suspect he will want to try right away. Prin, I had hoped you could help, but never expected results like that.”

  Sara said, “We’ve gathered all the ingredients for the hair spell but two. Are you too tired to help us with it?”

  “I guess you two baldies want to grow some hair today, huh? What are you missing?”

  “Brown snails and Tannin.”

  Maude said, “Wrong. You must never generalize. The spell requires small brown snails. Do not think the one who documented that spell didn’t mean small when she said, small. While the spell may work with large snails, it might also grow fingernails on your head instead of hair.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Small brown snails that have been dried and ground are in an earthen jar on that shelf,” Maude pointed. “I gather them from gardens in early spring. Tannin is in a small pot right below. It should be well marked. I collect water from a bog and let the water evaporate. The dried remains are tannin-rich.”

  Sara grabbed the jar of snails while Prin tried to read the label for tannin. Maude came to her side and selected one small jar and placed it beside the others they had gathered. She double-checked each ingredient, probably more to teach them to be careful than because she required doing so.

  She said, “Read how to make the spell and then tell me.”

  Sara started to read, and Maude watched and questioned all steps. Finally, they had a dry mixture of the right proportions, and she approved. Olive oil bonded the compound together in the bowl until a thick, unappetizing paste remained.

  Maude said, “Who’s first?”

  Both Prin and Sara pointed at the other. Maude smeared the concoction on Prin’s head, then Sara’s, following the natural hairline and carefully wiping off any overspill from it. She uttered the words and waited, smiling as if watching puppies play. Sara watched the mass transform into short brown hair on Prin’s head, and then it started to lengthen, and it grew longer and longer. Prin’s hand went her head, and she lightly touched hair longer than her finger and still growing.

  Prin’s hair was medium brown, straight, and down to her shoulders and still growing. Prin said, “How do we stop it?”

  Maude said, as she outlined Sara’s head and applied the concoction, “When it uses all the energy we instilled into it, the hair will stop growing. If it’s too long, we’ll give you a haircut, but hopefully, we didn’t give it so much it will reach the floor.”

  Sara said between giggles, “The snails and tannin give it color?”

  “More gives the hair a darker color,” Maude said, standing back a step and watching, still wearing the smile. “The medium color is a compromise between your black and Prin’s blonde. It makes you look like sisters—which is a good thing considering the story you tell.”

 
Prin fingered the hair and found it felt almost strange. Not in touch or texture, but because she had been weeks without hair. She pulled some to the side of her face and looked at it.

  Sara watched her. “Nobody will recognize you now.”

  Maude was looking at both, and a sly smile slowly filled her thin lips. “I wonder how the two of you will look with noses the size of turnips and ears so big they that they flop when you walk?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Prin couldn’t stop looking at Sara, and when Brice woke, neither could he. But he gawked at both as if they’d suddenly grown two heads, a comment that made all four of them laugh. Prin kept an eye on Maude in case her nose or ears started to tingle.

  But Maude was right in wishing to further disguise them. Prin said suddenly, “Can you add a few years to me? Maybe five?”

  “I was just considering the same thing,” Maude said. “Who is searching for an eighteen-year-old girl with brown hair, and her older sister? None, that’s what I think.”

  Maude collected a few items from near her desk and turned, hands full. “I use this on me every week or two, so all I need is right here.”

  Prin backed off a step. “Hey, I was kidding.”

  “No, you weren’t,” Maude said, setting her things nearby. “Get over here, or I’ll come get you.”

  “Let me help,” Sara squealed.

  Prin said, “Careful, you’re going to trip over your hair.”

  Maude threw a little of one item and a dash of that into a mixing bowl, poured water and vinegar in, and swirled it all around while humming to herself. Finally, she spread the concoction on brown paper to dry. “That should be about five years. If we need more, we can add it next week.”

  Prin said, “I want a Treeman.”

  “A what?” Maude asked.

  “A tree stump. When I throw my knife at your trees, it just falls to the ground. And Sara has arrows that don’t miss. I want a spell like that on my knife, but I want to learn to use it first.”

  Maude said, “Reasonable and forward thinking.”