just cast it and leave quickly, before they come out of it and
your appearance creates more questions.”
I nodded. “All right. I can do that.”
“Good.” He came to his feet. “I’ll have the door finished
before breakfast.”
I forced a smile. Sure, go spend the day with Valerie while
I, his underwizard and biggest responsibility, needed his help
much more.
Wow. When had I become so selfish? He had kept my secret
for months now and was risking everything to keep me as his
apprentice, and here I was behaving like a child because he
wasn’t spending all his time with me anymore.
My face must have betrayed some of my shame, because he
raised an eyebrow. “What? What’s that expression for?” “Nothing.” I rubbed at my eyes. “I’m just tired.” “Oh, and whatever you do, avoid Master Norwood. I don't
want him getting familiar with your face, especially since
there's a chance you'll see him in master wizard circles.” He
ran a hand over his own face. “Devil’s dawn. I hope this isn't a
mistake.”
I shook my head. “It’s not a mistake. We’ll get through
this and I’ll get back to my studying. I’m still planning on this and I’ll get back to my studying. I’m still planning onBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 40
passing the tenth trial and taking that trip to Waldrin.” His mouth turned downward. “Well…we may need to hold off on that for a while. At least until this hubbub over gender tests has died down. No sense attracting unnecessary attention.”
It only made sense. But I’d been looking forward to that trip for months now. “Of course. You’re right.” And then, because I could hear my own doleful tone, I added, “I mean, I understand.”
He came around the desk and patted me awkwardly on the shoulder. “Cheer up, Mullins. Waldrin will still be there when we get this sorted out.”
I nodded and smiled, hoping it didn’t betray any of my disappointment. #
CHAPTER FOUR
Thoughts of Waltney ran through my head all night, so that
I slept poorly. I drifted into sleep near dawn and awoke a few hours later, feeling tired and cranky. I didn’t want to go to Waltney. It had been more than three years since I’d been there, and I hadn’t planned on returning. I really didn't want to go back to the site of so much unhappiness and loss. The little cottage, where Gavin had wasted away to nothing, where Mama had lost her faith in me, and where Papa had deserted me during Gavin's final hours. I could die happy never seeing Waltney again.
Beckstead / Shadowed by Death / 41 But there were men to be found, if I even remembered where to find them.
Come to think of it, what would I do if one of them had moved? Borrow one of Oscar's scrying sticks and track him across the kingdom?
I'd cross that bridge if I came to it.
Cat, the cook, had been at work fashioning a variety of delicacies, as usual, as I saw when I arrived in the breakfast room before the master or Ivan. But the regular items were there too, the ones that Master Wendyn and Ivan insisted on eating with clockwork regularity.
The breakfast room’s chandelier caught at the morning sun, sending diamonds of light sparkling across the table. I poured Master Wendyn’s tea and buttered his toasted bread the way he liked it—heavy on the butter and light on the jam. To the side I set one apple divided into sections. There. That was the master’s breakfast taken care of.
Ivan’s usual breakfast was a bit more complicated—cooked potatoes and a cup of citrus juice, then one piece of wheat bread buttered half with jam and half with butter.
It had filled up a place in my heart, looking after the master and Ivan. They were perfectly capable of getting their own breakfast, of course, but it made me feel needed to have it waiting for them, and I enjoyed doing it.
I sat at the table and helped myself to a few of Cat’s new I sat at the table and helped myself to a few of Cat’s newBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 42
creations—a sticky pastry filled with something sweet and tart, and another with a crisp exterior that melted in my mouth. “Mullins? It’s time to go. What are you dithering about in here for?”
I looked up at the master, my mouth full, and swallowed. “Breakfast. I was hungry.”
“You’d better get on your way. You have a full day ahead of you.” He looked me up and down as I came to my feet. “You do have the—” he gestured at himself up and down, rather than saying the word dress.
“Yes. I’ll go change.”
“Hurry. I’ll wait for you down here. Want to see you off.” He sounded a little gruff. I was pretty sure he was a little worried about sending me off by myself. It made me feel better about his not coming along today in one sense—at least I knew he was still invested in this apprenticeship, despite Valerie—while on the other hand it made me wonder if he thought I was incapable of handling this on my own.
I straightened my shoulders as I hurried up the stairs to my room. This was my chance to prove to him what I was capable of. I would handle this with ease and finesse.
Back in my room I dressed slowly, carefully. Before bed I’d magicked myself a dress, sensible brown muslin that wouldn’t stand out in Waltney amongst the numerous servant class and farmers. The last thing I wanted was to stand out. Its fit was farmers. The last thing I wanted was to stand out. Its fit wasBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 43
less than perfect, as I discovered once I donned it. It was two sizes too big and the skirt dragged a little on the floor. I hadn’t noticed the night before, probably thanks to the candlelight and my own exhaustion. But I didn’t have time to search up an altering spell since I’d slept later than planned. There might be far distances to cover to find my swearers. I would just have to make the dress work.
The last time I’d worn skirts, I was fourteen years old. Now the feel of swishing fabric against my legs seemed foreign and slightly ticklish. It would take getting used to.
My wizard robes came next. I pulled them on over the dress in order to hide it from view in case I ran into a servant on the way to the room of doors—Master Wendyn’s portals to various locations around the Three Kingdoms. With the robe buttoned firmly up to my chin, I headed down to the cellars.
The sun hovered midway up the sky, slanting in through the stained glass of the front entryway as I descended the staircase to the main floor. I needed to be on my way before it got any later. In the main hallway, a series of thumping footsteps sounded behind me before the master fell into step behind me on the stairs to the cellar.
“Your dress is hanging down past your robes, Mullins,” he said in a stage whisper as I looked over my shoulder at him. “Use a little discretion, will you?”
I tugged at the skirts, pulling them above the line of my I tugged at the skirts, pulling them above the line of my
Beckstead / Shadowed by Death / 44
robes. “Look, I did my best. Maybe it’s not perfect, but I doubt anyone will notice.” “Your best?” His lips tugged downward in a frown. “This doesn’t bode well for the spell you’re going to Waltney to perform. Do you think you can just slapdash your way through that little bit of magic as well?”
I frowned and didn’t reply.
In the room of doors Master Wendyn pointed to a new entryway, one covered with a dingy brown tapestry, probably one he’d found in a closet somewhere. “That's it. Your way to Waltney. I used your directions and put it smack in the middle of your father’s kitchen. I even tried it out. The place was empty.”
It was strange, imagining the master walking through the cottage I grew up in. I bit my lip. “This time of day if Papa’s not home, he may have collapsed somewhere in town after a hard night of drinking. I suppose I’ll have to find him.”
“Just remember. The idea is to be subtle. Do your best not to attract attention.”
&n
bsp; I nodded, then unbuttoned and shed my wizard robes, which I tossed over an empty cask along the wall. The string that tied my hair back came free easily enough, and I ran fingers through my hair in an attempt to make it look neat and, ideally, feminine. Lastly I removed the voice modulating spell.
“Oh, devil’s dawn, Mullins. That dress.”
I looked down at myself. “What’s wrong with it?”
He tilted his head and fixed me with a look. “Have you ever seen me wearing clothes that don’t fit? Let me help you.”
I rolled my eyes. Master Wendyn always looked immaculate. It was more than a little annoying. Still, maybe I could use that in my favor today. I looked down at myself. The brown dress did seem to be dragging on the floor a lot. “Very well.”
Master Wendyn gave a long-suffering sigh as he looked the dress over, walking in a full circle around me. He tugged at the fabric near my waist, moving it back and forth, then pulled it upward, measuring the extra fabric, I supposed. Without missing a beat, he launched into several spells. The skirt crept upward while the waistband pulled inward.
“Better,” he said, circling me once more. “Now arms out.”
I complied, holding my arms straight out to the sides.
Once more he tugged and pulled at the fabric around my arms and bodice, then knelt in front of me to perform more spells. He became so absorbed in his task of fitting the bodice just right that heat flamed across my face. Always before my chest had been bound when in the master’s company. To now have it not be—and to have his undivided attention focused on it—was mortifying.
“There,” he said at last, with one final tug and pat at my waist. “I think that’ll do just fine.” His eyes lifted and he caught my expression. “What?”
Only then did he seem to realize that his hands were around Only then did he seem to realize that his hands were aroundBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 46
my waist, and that he’d been staring in concentration at my bosom for several minutes now. He dropped his hands like they’d touched molten fire and jumped to his feet.
“Er…nothing,” I said, and became very focused on straightening my already-straight skirts, head bent so that I wouldn’t have to look at him. “Thank you. You’re a regular master tailor.”
He had done good work. In only a few minutes I’d gone from looking as though I’d stolen my dress off the clothesline of a portly woman to looking as though the dress had been made for me.
After a short cough and a clearing of his throat, he seemed back to his usual self. “You’ll pass muster.”
“But do I look like a girl?”
He barely glanced at me, as though afraid to now. “You look fine.”
My fingers smoothed over my hair anxiously. “It’s been a while since I played this part. Will anyone be able to tell?”
One eyebrow raised over a dark eye. “So this is just a part to be played now?”
“I didn’t mean that exactly.”
He waved a hand. “Don’t worry. You look enough like a girl to elicit interest from at least some of the males in Waltney, poor fellows. Just promise you won’t spell any of them.”
“Not unless I have to.”
He nodded. “Then report back to me as soon as you return this evening. You have the spell?”
I nodded and patted my pocket. The master had pushed it underneath my door sometime in the night, so that I found it waiting there for me when I arose this morning.
“Good. Off with you, then.”
“All right.” I edged toward the door, reluctant to step through and put this crazy plan into motion. “I’m going.” I pushed the tapestry aside and stood staring at the black iron doorknob set into the dark wood of the door. One more pause on the threshold there as I waited for him to say anything, maybe stop me or tell me this was all a bad idea and he was coming with me after all.
But he didn’t say anything. Finally I took hold of the door handle, turned, and pushed it open. With steps that seemed to ring more of caution than courage, I moved through the doorway and into my family cottage.
****
The floor had a familiar creak to it as I stepped into the room, directly in front of the kitchen table. I closed the door quietly and muttered the spell that caused it to shimmer out of existence. My eyes roved across the room, taking in the layer of dust that covered most everything—the kitchen table and dirty dishes strewn across it, the grimy floor, the rocking chair I didn’t remember.
It took me a few moments to realize I was holding my breath. I didn’t want to break the stillness. Perhaps if I was quiet enough I might be able to hear Mama or Gavin’s laughter echoing from the past.
But then the smell of the house reached me, mustiness mingled with garbage, and the pretense fell around my ears. Mama had always kept the place neat and orderly, and I’d done my best to follow her example after she was gone. This unkempt house had the stench of Papa all over it.
It was a small cottage, and it took only a few quick steps to check the only other room to know that the house was, indeed, empty. I’d have to track Papa down to wherever he’d fallen asleep. Probably someone’s barn somewhere.
It might have been wise to bring a scrying stick.
I opened the front door with a creak of hinges and stepped onto the tiny front porch, smaller and more dilapidated than I remembered. The smell of Waltney hung in the air, especially strong in the summers: haranges and pine trees, an intoxicating blend. It hit me as I stepped down from the porch and looked up, up, up at the Midnight Forest, which surrounded the cottage on two sides. If I squinted just right, I could almost imagine Gavin grinning at me as he walked through the trees toward home.
But then I blinked and he was gone.
I gave myself a shake. This was no time for daydreaming. Council members could be coming to Waltney this very day to Council members could be coming to Waltney this very day toBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 49
interview my affidavit-swearers, and here I was reminiscing about the past. I squared my shoulders and headed up the road into town.
It was a ten-minute walk until I reached Waltney town proper, marked by the spread of buildings and, in the distance, farmer’s fields. There was the apothecary and the sheriff's office, the town meeting hall, the church, the milliner and the butcher and the milkman—all the businesses I knew and remembered. There were a few new businesses too, like a storefront for Helena's Haberdashery, and a bookshop, and a building marked merely Sweets. I spied several new drinking holes as well, more places for Papa to attempt to sate his endless thirst for liquor.
Besides Papa, there were two other men I needed to find. Quinn Zimmer was a bookish sort of man who worked for a local clerk and had rather questionable ethics, a wife who couldn’t stand me, and a son I’d been friendly with.
The other man was Hans Dunstall, owner of a local inn and tavern, The Four Crossbows. The Bows, as it was called locally, was another of Papa’s hangouts. If he’d been drinking all night, it was possible that Hans had given him a spot in the stables to sleep it off.
I’d start with The Bows. If I was very lucky, I could take care of Papa and Hans at the same time.
The place looked much as I remembered it. Dark, wooden, and The place looked much as I remembered it. Dark, wooden, andBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 50
rough-hewn, with beer-splattered tables and the smell of gamey meat on the air. A portrait of King Augustus hung on the wall, next to a smaller painting of the head of the town council.
“Mornin’,” a cheery maid holding a rag and wiping down tables called to me as I entered. “You’ll be wanting something to eat, I expect?”
Food didn't sound too awful at the moment, considering I’d left Ryker Hall without eating. But then again, this wasn't the time to worry about my belly. I had work to do. “Can you tell me, is Jasper—”
“Avery?” The woman placed her rag on a table and took several steps closer. “Avery Mullins? It is you.”
“Uh…” M
y voice trailed off as I tried to place her. I truly didn’t expect the very first person I encountered to recognize me. I squinted at her until finally her identity came to me. She was a long-time barmaid here at The Bows.
“Hello. Yvette, right? I’m looking for my father.”
She grabbed me in a hug. I was so startled that I could do nothing but stand still. “You heard, you poor thing.”
“Heard?” I repeated into her shoulder, my voice muffled. “Heard what?”
She took a step back and looked at me, hands still on my shoulders. “About your father, of course. Did word finally reach Montaine? We expected you days ago.”
My mouth opened, then closed again. “What is it I'm to have My mouth opened, then closed again. “What is it I'm to haveBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 51
heard?” I asked at last.
“Oh. Oh no. You don’t know?”
“Know what?” I asked with exasperation. “What’s going on?” “Come with me.” She grabbed me by the arm and pulled me
after her, and for a moment I was so taken by surprise that I followed her. We made it all the way to the inn’s main staircase, heading to who-knows-where, when I finally balked at going any further.
“No. No, tell me what’s wrong first. I don’t like surprises.” I folded my arms and frowned at her—at least, until I suddenly realized that I sounded just like Master Wendyn. Friar’s bones, the man was rubbing off on me.
“Jasper’s been in an accident,” she said. “He's hurt very badly.”
“Hurt?” I repeated stupidly. “Papa doesn’t get hurt. He’s healthy as an ox.” Mama always used to say so.
“Maybe that’s so, but he’s definitely hurt. Doc says he won’t last the week.”
For a moment the world felt like it tilted a bit on its axis. How I hated myself for that reaction. “Whatever's happened to Papa isn't my concern. I want no part of him.”
A disapproving frown took over her mouth. “I understand he may not have been the best father in the world, but surely you'll want to tend him. To see that he’s comfortable. He hasn’t been conscious in days.”
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