A Meddle of Wizards

by Alexandra Rushe

  She was wearing her tunic, but her legs were bare. She looked around for her breeches and found them. Someone had thrown them on a chair across the room. A table next to the chair held a pitcher, a tray of cups, and a bowl of fruit. Raine licked her dry lips. Her tongue was a shriveled worm in her mouth, but the pitcher seemed miles away. Lowering her feet to the floor, she rose and staggered over to the chair, her heart pounding from exertion. Hands shaking, she poured a cup of water, spilling a little on the table as she did so, and gulped it down. The liquid was warm and brackish. It tasted like heaven. She refilled the cup and drained it again, this time more slowly. Her empty stomach gurgled. She wasn’t hungry, but she supposed she should eat something. Selecting an apple from the bowl, she managed a few small bites. Her stomach felt tender, as though she’d recently puked her guts out.

  She set the apple aside, and decided to get dressed. She was trying to jam her rubbery legs into the breeches when the cabin door opened and Brefreton strolled in.

  “Ah, you’re awake. Excellent,” he said, averting his gaze from her naked legs. “I brought your things.” He dumped the bundle he was carrying onto the floor, opened it, and took out one of the gowns Abbah had made. “The blue one should suit.” He gave the garment a shake to remove the wrinkles. “Not a good idea to wear breeches in front of the men.”

  “Why? Don’t they know women have legs?”

  “You’re on a ship with a bunch of lusty sailors, and those breeches leave nothing to the imagination. Do you really want to give them anatomy lessons?”

  “That’s not the point. Where I come from, women wear breeches all the time.”

  “You’re in Tandara, now. Different place, different rules.”

  “But that’s not fair.”

  “Nothing in life is fair but the weather, young lady, and sometimes it rains.”

  With that annoying and utterly unsatisfactory remark, he tossed the dress in her direction and turned his back. Raine stripped off the tunic and pulled the gown over her head. The dress was long-sleeved and belted at the waist, with a row of buttons up the front. Standing made her head spin, so she sat back down to fasten the bodice. The simple effort of dressing left her exhausted.

  “All right,” she said. “I’m decent.”

  Brefreton turned to face her once more and Raine felt a flutter of alarm. The wizard was pale and drawn.

  “Bree, are you ill?

  “No, no, nothing like. You’re the one who’s been sick. How are you feeling?”

  She grimaced. “Like all the goody’s been sucked out of me and nothing’s left but the shell.”

  “Ah.” Brefreton clasped his hands behind his back. “That would be the surge.”

  “The what?”

  “The magical episode you experienced a few days ago. A tremendous amount of unchanneled magic went through you.” He shook his head. “You’re lucky. Knew a fellow had a surge like that once. Wasn’t enough left of the poor sod to fill a thimble. The fact you didn’t disintegrate proves you’ve a real gift. It takes talent to channel that much magic without a wizard stone.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Mage class magic. Not just anyone can cook a tracker.”

  “Tracker?”

  “The goggin you roasted. Boiled it in its own juices,” Brefreton said. “Nothing left but a slick on the pavement. And that was after you killed the Shad.”

  “What are you talking about? I didn’t kill anybody.”

  “You certainly did something to him. The man was dead before he hit the street.”

  “The Shad in the market? He said he was taking me back to Glonoff.”

  “And then?”

  “He slapped me,” Raine said, remembering. “I got mad and kicked him. I . . . think I told him to drop dead.”

  “He obliged, splendid fellow.”

  Raine stared at him in horror. “I killed a man with words?”

  Brefreton looked thoughtful. “More than likely, it was the combination of the kick and the command. Either one alone probably wouldn’t have done it. Still, in future, I’d be more careful, if I were you. You go around killing people willy-nilly, it’s bound to cause hard feelings.”

  “Oh, God.” Raine clapped her hands over her mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “You do look a little green. Maybe you’d better have another lie down.” Brefreton helped her over to the bed and tucked the woolen blanket around her. “Here,” he said, handing her a shallow basin. “In case you need to empty the bilge.”

  “Thank you.” Raine swallowed the bile in her throat. “You said days. How long have I been out of it?”

  “This is our fourth day at sea. We’ve a three-week voyage ahead of us.”

  “Three weeks?”

  “If the weather holds. We’re head to Finlara, to seek the Rowan’s protection.”

  “Finlara?” She bolted upright in the bed. “Maybe I don’t want to go to Finlara, did you think of that? Maybe I would rather have stayed in Gambollia.”

  “Stay in Dog City, and the place teeming with goggins and spies?” Brefreton stared at her in astonishment. “Don’t be daft.”

  “I’m a person, not a pork chop to be passed from pillar to post.”

  “Be reasonable, Raine. We couldn’t ask you. You were unconscious.”

  “Then you should have waited for me to wake up.”

  “There was no time. We were lucky to get out of there alive.” His brow creased. “We still aren’t out of the woods. Glory says we’re head for trouble, though she refuses to be more specific, the imperious puff bladder.”

  “Glory?”

  “Oh, that’s right. You haven’t met. Count yourself fortunate. Glory is a seer.” He said the word with distaste. “Forever droning on about this vision or that.”

  “You don’t seem very fond of her. Is she a phony?”

  “Oh, Rebe, no. Glory’s usually right. That’s what makes her so hard to take. Insufferable. Wouldn’t say it to her face, of course. Raven’s aunt, and all that.”

  “Raven? Mauric’s cousin is here?”

  “Of course. This is his ship and his cabin. Wouldn’t be here, except for Gertie. She reared him, you know. Raven loves that cantankerous old troll. Not much he wouldn’t do for her.”

  “I don’t understand. How did we end up on Raven’s ship?”

  “Remember the fight in the market?” Brefreton said. “Raven was the big fellow in black. Excellent with a sword. Served as captain of the Rowan’s guard for years.”

  The swirling fragments of memory settled into place. “The warrior in the street and the man in my bedroom mirror,” Raine exclaimed. “They’re one and the same. I should have realized it before.”

  “Say what?” Brefreton looked at her sharply. “It’s the surge, that’s what it is. It’s scrambled your brains. I’ll have Gertie mix you a tonic.” He shuddered. “Dreadful stuff, Gertie’s concoctions, but effective.” He paused, adding, “If you can keep them down.”

  He left the room, shaking his head. The door had barely closed behind him when Mimsie arrived on a waft of cool air. She glided across the room and took a seat in the chair. Gone were the tight sweater and short skirt the ghost had been wearing the last time Raine had seen her. Mimsie now wore a flowing gown of silvery blue with a rounded neckline and bell sleeves. A jeweled girdle encircled her slim hips, and her light brown locks were confined in a silver snood. On her feet were matching blue slippers.

  “What do you think of my new look?” Mimsie extended her left leg, exposing the daring slash in the gown’s skirt. “The slit was my idea. Shows off my legs. A bit medieval, but Ronnie likes it.”

  Raine blinked. “Who’s Ronnie?”

  Mimsie clasped her hands together. “My new beau. I’ll tell you all about it later when we have more time. First,
I want to hear about you. Rumor has it, you cooked a goggin.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Mimsie folded her arms. “Fine, we’ll talk about the fire at the inn, instead.”

  “What fire?”

  “Chaz ran away while you were in the market and Gertie went after him,” Mimsie said. “She found him, but some Shads set fire to the Neatfoot while she was gone.” The ghost looked sad. “Trudy and Kipp didn’t make it.”

  “Trudy and Kipp are dead?” A wave of grief washed over Raine. “But why would the Shads burn—” Her belly lurched. “Glonoff. They were looking for me, weren’t they?”

  Mimsie nodded. “I’m sorry, baby girl.”

  “It’s my fault.” Raine burst into tears. “I killed them, same as I killed that soldier and the tracker.”

  “Don’t be a ninny. Glonoff is responsible, not you, but Brefreton is taking Trudy’s and Kipp’s deaths hard.”

  Raine hiccupped and wiped her eyes. “I know. He looks so sad. I wish I could do something for him.”

  “You can. That’s why I’m here, to ask you to help Trudy and Kipp cross over.”

  “Help them cross— What am I, a travel agent for the dead?”

  “Don’t be sassy, young lady. You use that thingamajig around your neck.”

  “My wizard stone? I can’t. I don’t know how. Besides, Bree says no more magic until I’ve been trained.”

  “Fiddlesticks. Why, with your talent, you’ll hardly break a sweat.”

  “What if something goes wrong? What if I sink the ship?”

  “You are not going to sink the ship.”

  “No.” Raine shook her head. “Absolutely not. I’m sorry, Mimsie, but I can’t do it.”

  Mimsie put her hands on her hips. “Mary Raine Stewart, you can give them some peace, if you will, and Bree, too. Are you going to help your friends, or not?”

  “But I—”

  “No buts. Put on your big girl panties and do what you have to do.”

  Raine gave up. “Okay, but if this goes south, it’s on you.”

  She grasped the pendant between her breasts and the humming in her mind bloomed. The paneled walls of the cabin grew wavy and began to fade away. Startled, she dropped the wizard stone.

  “Why’d you stop?” Mimsie demanded. “It was working. You were lit up like a Christmas tree. Try again, and this time, think about Trudy and Kipp.”

  Reluctantly, Raine lifted the stone once more. She breathed deeply and let her mind drift to her memories of Trudy and Kipp, recalling the innkeeper’s generosity and easy laughter, and Kipp’s youthful awkwardness. When she had their images firmly fixed in her mind, she released them into the hum. The walls of the cabin melted and dissolved, and the bed whirled like a top. She tumbled down a long, dark tunnel and out a narrow opening at the other end, landing on a barren, colorless field of rock and parched soil. In the distance, mountains loomed, shards of gray rock that were covered in sickly gray vegetation. Above the dismal landscape, sullen clouds whirled in a firmament that was unallayed by a sun or moon, or stars. Fog boiled out of the mountains and across the arid plain in thick clouds.

  The mist reached for Raine with clammy fingers that chilled her to the bone. “Trudy? Kipp? Can you hear me?” She shivered and peered into the vapor. “Mimsie sent me.”

  There was no answer. She called again, louder. The dense fog parted and Trudy and Kipp stepped out. The innkeeper looked young, not much older than her son, and her eyes were wide with alarm.

  “Run,” Trudy hissed, looking over her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Raine. It followed us.”

  “What followed you?” Raine asked, but the ghosts had already melted back into the brume.

  Dread clamped down on Raine as something moved within the murk. The swirling vapor parted and she glimpsed a tall, cylindrical shape, with a curved head and a spear-like bill.

  “Raaine.” The evil whisper sent a shiver down Raine’s spine.

  “Who’s there?” She demanded shrilly. “What do you want?”

  Claws reached for her from the fog, and Raine screamed and stumbled back. The ground tilted beneath her feet and she spun back through the tunnel. When she opened her eyes, she was lying on her back on the floor.

  “What happened?” Mimsie floated above Raine, her pretty face creased with concern. “Your face went slack and kind of funny, and then you fell out of bed. Are you okay?”

  “No, I’m not okay. There was something in there. Something horrible.”

  “Was it Glonoff?”

  “I don’t know. If Glonoff wears a carnival mask and sounds like a boa constrictor with COPD, then, yeah, maybe.” Raine shuddered. “Whatever it was, it scared the bejeezus out of me.”

  “Trudy and Kipp?”

  “I saw them, but then that thing showed up and I ran.”

  “No worries. They followed you.” Mimsie lifted her head. “Oops, company coming. Time to go.”

  She vanished.

  The door banged open, and Gertie and Brefreton rushed into the room.

  Gertie looked around wildly, her wizard stone aloft. “I smelled magic.”

  Brefreton stalked over to Raine, his expression wrathful. “Do you have a death wish? How many times do I have to tell you not to use your stone until you’ve had training?”

  “Stop yelling.” Raine slapped Bree’s hand away and got to her feet. “Mimsie was here. She told me about the fire at the inn and—” Patches of frost formed on the walls. The lantern flickered and dimmed. Two filmy shapes appeared behind Brefreton. “Forget it,” she snapped, pointing. “Ask them yourself.”

  Brefreton whirled, crying out in shock when he saw the two ghosts. “Trudy . . . Kipp?” He buried his face in his hands. “Ah, Rebe, forgive me. I should have been there.”

  “Don’t cry, Grandfather,” Kipp said. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  Brefreton lifted his head. “W-what did you call me?”

  “Grandfather. Mother said it was all right for me to call you that now that we’re . . . you know.” Kipp smiled shyly. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  “No.” Tears streamed down Brefreton’s face. “I don’t mind at all.”

  Raine looked away, embarrassed by the raw emotion on the wizard’s face. She felt like an intruder.

  Gertie clomped over to the bed. “Don’t know about you, but I could use a little fresh air. Something in this cabin is making my eyes water.”

  “Mine, too,” Raine said, blinking back tears.

  Without another word, Gertie scooped Raine into her arms and carried her from the cabin, leaving Brefreton alone with his loved ones.

  Chapter 37

  Tonics and Tutors

  Gertie carried Raine up a set of narrow steps and onto the deck, and plunked her down on a crate out of the way.

  A beefy sailor stared at Raine, earning a growl from Gertie. “What are you gawking at, poop noddie?” the troll said.

  The sailor ducked his head and returned his attention to the sail he was mending.

  Gertie turned back to Raine. “That was a fine thing you did back there, and you still puny from the surge.” Her sandpaper voice was gruffer than usual. “I won’t forget it, and neither will Bree.”

  “It was the least I could do, after the money I’ve cost him.”

  “Bah, a few trifles. Don’t let it plague you. Bree’s rich as an Eska. He’ll not feel the pinch.”

  “Bree’s wealthy?”

  “Swimming in lard.”

  “Really? You’d never know it to look at him.”

  “He’s is a man of simple tastes,” Gertie said. “Can’t abide people who put on airs—that’s the main reason you’ll rarely find him at court. He’s fond of Balzora, but he can’t abide fools. But don’t mistake his love of simplicity for a lack of understanding. Shrewd fellow, Bree. He
has holdings in Tannenbol, Durngar, and Esmalla—that I know of.”

  Raine remembered her conversation with Trudy at the inn. They’ve been regulars at the Neatfoot these three hundred years and more.

  “Bree told me he was married to the Guild Master’s daughter,” Raine said. “The Neatfoot was one of his investments, wasn’t it?”

  Gertie’s bushy brows shot up. “Told you that, did he? Bree must like you.”

  “He didn’t say much. Only that they were married and that he’d charmed the dome to please his father-in-law.”

  “Radeem Selleg,” Gertie said with a sound of disgust. “A hufty-tufty whifling and the particular source, I believe, of Bree’s excessive dislike of ostentatiousness. How Selleg sired a lovely girl like Luriel is a mystery to me. She was a drab, you know, but one of the kindest, gentlest humans I’ve ever known. Bree was beside himself when she died. Didn’t see hide nor hair of him for centuries.”

  “He must have loved her very much,” Raine said. “Did they have children?”

  “Aye, a dozen mablets. After Luriel died, Bree scattered them and their young throughout Tandara for safekeeping.”

  “Safekeeping from whom?”

  “Glonoff.” The troll’s expression was troubled. “Not that it did any good. Glonoff hunted them down, one by one through the years. Trudy and Kipp were the last of Bree’s line.”

  “So Glonoff did kill them,” Raine said. “But . . . why?”

  Gertie shook her head. “I’ve said too much as is. Suffice it to say, there’s no love lost between Bree and the Dark Wizard.”

  A sailor laughed, startling Raine. She’d been so absorbed in her conversation with Gertie that she’d taken little notice of her surroundings. She looked around. The vessel they were on was sleek and rode the waves of a slate-colored sea. No land was in sight.

  Water again, Raine thought with a sigh of resignation. It seemed to be her destiny.

  A sail flapped, drawing her gaze upward. Two black flags fluttered against an oatmeal sky. The larger flag bore a glittering horn in a circlet of silver. The pennant beneath it was stamped with the image of a troll’s upraised paw and a set of silver claw marks.