A Thread of Magic

by Crista McHugh

The doll’s eye had come loose again.

  Kira stared at the loose threads that held the black button to the doll’s face. Maybe her mother could fix it before the bakery got too busy. She trotted over to her mother and tugged on her skirt.

  “Not now, Kira, I’m busy.”

  “But my dolly—”

  “Mommy’s helping a Master, Kira.” Her mother pointed to the man in the dark blue robes. He had a round face and belly and seemed very interested in her mother’s sweet buns. “Go sit in the corner like a good girl.”

  The Master Mage gave her an apologetic smile.

  Kira wandered back to her corner, wondering how she could fix the doll’s eye before she lost the precious button. The other girls would tease her if she had a doll with just one eye, and her mother would be busy until the sun set.

  But she knew how to fix it, even if her mother wouldn’t let her near the sharp needles yet.

  She glanced over her shoulder. The Master Mage was taking the wrapped sweet rolls from her mother. The butcher’s wife from down the street waited behind him to drop off her morning dough. Mommy baked everyone’s bread for them because she had the only oven on the street.

  No one would notice if she used a little magic to fix her doll.

  She hunched over the doll’s face, hiding it from anyone who could see what she was about to do. In her mind, she imagined the thread weaving itself back and forth through the fabric until the button was held tight against the cloth. A tingling sensation rushed down her arm, and a small blue spark erupted from her finger when she touched the doll’s face. Just like she’d imagined, the thread tightened the button back into place and then tied off into a knot.

  Good as new! She grinned and hugged her doll.

  She turned around and found the Master Mage staring at her with a wrinkled brow. Her skin turned cold, as though she was standing in the snow wearing only her underdress. Girls weren’t allowed to use magic, and her mother had always warned that someone would kill her if they caught her using it.

  “You have a very lovely daughter, Madame Baker,” he said, never taking his eyes off Kira.

  Her mother almost dropped the butcher’s wife’s dough. “Thank you, Master Tyrrus,” she replied, her voice shaking a little. Her brows drew together, and her mouth curled down into a frown.

  Kira hugged her doll even tighter. She was going to get a spanking after Master Tyrrus left if her mother’s cross expression was any indication. But a spanking would be better than what could happen if the Master had seen what she’d just done.

  “I shall enjoy these sweet rolls,” he continued, finally turning his attention away from her. “Thank you very much, and have a good day.”

  As soon as the door jingled closed behind him, her mother grabbed her arm and pulled her hard enough to leave bruises. “What did you do, Kira?” she hissed.

  “I fixed my dolly.” She held up the doll with the two good button eyes.

  Her mother released her and pressed her hands against her own cheeks. “Mariliel help me, what am I going to do with you? Are you trying to get us all killed?”

  Kira’s eyes stung. “You were so busy, and the other girls would laugh at me if I lost one of her eyes—”

  “I don’t care about that. You used magic again, didn’t you? And in front of a Master Mage?”

  Her bottom lip trembled. “I’m sorry, Mommy.”

  Her mother’s gaze lowered the doll. She yanked it from Kira’s arms. “As punishment, I’m taking your doll away.”

  “But Mom—”

  “Don’t argue with me. You need to learn not to use that curse you were born with. Now go outside and stay out of trouble.” Her mother turned on her heel and carried both the doll and the butcher’s dough into the back room where the oven was.

  Was Mommy mad enough to throw my doll into the oven’s flames?

  Kira took a few steps toward the back room, but stopped. Disobeying her mother would only increase her risk of never seeing her doll again. She slipped out the front door and into the crowded streets.

  A major road leading to Dromore ran through their village, bringing plenty of travelers to buy her mother’s breads and sweet rolls. Kira had long ago stopped trying to remember all the faces of the strangers who’d come in out of their bakery. Only the most interesting visitors stuck with her, including the Master Mage who’d been in town for the last week. When the traffic along the road cleared long enough for her to see the other side, she found him standing by the tavern’s front door.

  He was staring right at her.

  A chill rippled up her spine. Maybe he was waiting for the right moment to pounce on her and execute her in front of everyone in town for using magic. Maybe he was hoping to catch her using it again.

  Kira ran down the street toward the village green, hugging the walls of the buildings and praying her small size would make it harder for him to follow her. All the children in the town played on the green. Once she disappeared in the crowd, she’d be safe, and perhaps one of the other girls would be willing to lend her a doll for the day.

  She’d just stepped onto the pale spring grass when a shriek ripped through the ordinary babble of the day. Screams of terror followed. Kira’s mouth went dry. Even though her mind warned against it, she turned in the direction of the sound and gasped.

  A black horse, larger than any she’d ever seen, stampeded through the crowded street. Those in front of him lunged toward the walls of the building that lined the narrow road. One woman moved too slowly. The horse’s head knocked her to the ground, and he reared. His massive hooves pounded across her face, her chest, her stomach, leaving bloody prints and splatters on the dust. The woman’s face froze in a wide-eyed, open-mouthed expression of pure terror, but even her lifeless body couldn’t stop the horse. He darted forward, picking up speed once again.

  Kira’s heart beat in time with his hooves. Her breath came so quickly, she barely had time to draw in the air she needed. She stared into the whites of the horse’s wild, rolling eyes as he came closer and closer and closer…

  The magic stirred inside her gut, rising into her chest. It crawled up her neck and into her arms. She dug her fingers into her palms. No, she couldn’t release it here, not in front of everyone. They’d all kill her if she broke the kingdom’s law.

  But if she didn’t, she’d be trampled by the mad beast just like the woman down the street.

  Her stomach knotted. Her pulse throbbed under her skin. She pressed her lips together to keep the magic locked up inside. The horse was just a few feet away, and no one would save her from him. Kira closed her eyes and waited to meet death.

  But just like the breath she’d been trying to hold inside, the magic forced its way out. A scream erupted from her mouth, the magic flowing out with it. Then silence followed.

  After sucking in several deep breaths, Kira dared to open one eye. The horse stood in front of her, his hoof hovering a few inches above her head. But he didn’t smash it into her face like he had the woman down the street. His body remained frozen, locked in a menacing pose of power and destruction. Foam dripped from his mouth, but his sides never billowed. His eyes remained wild, but they no longer rolled around in their sockets.

  The air whooshed from her lungs as a man swooped her up into his arms. His dark blue robe smelled of smoke and ale. His breaths came loud and heavy as though he’d never run anywhere in his entire life. He plodded into an alleyway and dropped to his knees. “Are you hurt, child?” he asked.

  Kira’s tongue refused to move. Master Tyrrus knelt before her, gulping air. Surely, he’d witnessed what she’d done to the horse. Why did he bring her here to punish her instead of doing it in front of the whole town?

  Footsteps sounded behind them, and Master Tyrrus rose to his feet, hiding her behind the drapes of this robe.

  “Where is the girl?” a man asked.

  “Yes, where is she?” another man followed. “The law demands we destroy her at once.”

 
Kira wrapped her fingers around Master Tyrrus’s robe and wondered how much longer she had to live.

  “Why must we destroy a poor child who’s had the fright of her life?” Master Tyrrus seemed to grow five extra inches as he spoke, and the shadows of the others backed away.

  “She used magic,” the second man said. “We’ve always suspected she was a little off, and now we know why.”

  “She did nothing of the sort.” Master Tyrrus’s voice boomed off the plaster walls of the buildings on either side of them. “I’m the one who cast the spell that stopped the horse.”

  Kira’s heart fluttered. Why would he lie to protect her?

  “But—” the other man began, but Master Tyrrus cut him off by stretching his arms out wide.

  “Do you doubt my abilities as a Master?”

  “No, but—”

  “Perhaps I should give you a little demonstration of my power.” The air around them crackled with magic, and sparks danced along the Master’s fingertips. A blast of icy wind blew Kira into his robes and stung her cheeks. The men on the other side toppled back. Then, as quickly as it came, it all stopped.

  “You were saying?” Master Tyrrus’s voice hung heavy with challenge, but no one answered him. He reached his hand behind him and cupped it around the back of her head, leading her forward. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, I think Madame Baker is anxious to know where her daughter is.”

  No one dared speak to her as he walked her back to the bakery, but their eyes all remained on her. Master Tyrrus may have claimed credit for the spell that stopped the horse, but how many of them actually believed him?

  Although he tried to hide it from her, Kira still caught a glimpse of the woman who’d been trampled. Blood pooled around her, and her entrails bulged out of her stomach. It looked like something she’d expect to see when the butcher was slaughtering a hog, not out in the middle of the street. She didn’t recognize the woman—she must have been passing through the town—but Kira shared her feelings of fear and desperation. The only difference between the two of them was Kira had lived.

  But only because she broke a law that carried a death sentence.

  Tears streamed down her mother’s face when they arrived. But instead of taking her into her arms and hugging her tightly, she retreated as though Kira had the plague, pressing her back against the doorway.

  “May I have a word with you in private, Madame Baker?” Master Tyrrus asked, closing the door behind them.

  “Yes,” her mother choked out, “of course.” She led them into the back room with the oven.

  The heat of the giant fire seemed welcoming after the cold stares that had followed them from the outside. Her doll sat perched on the table where her mother rolled out the dough, a splash of flour whitening her dress. Kira grabbed it and hugged it close while she waited to hear what Master Tyrrus had to say.

  “Has your daughter ever done anything that seemed strange or out of the ordinary?”

  Her mother’s mouth opened and closed several times, her voice stuttering until she finally said, “What do you mean by strange?”

  “You know exactly what I mean, woman, so don’t play naïve with me.” His voice resonated with the same power it had in the alley. “If you won’t give me a straight answer, then I’ll have to discover the truth for myself.”

  A flash of magic flew from his fingers toward her. Kira closed her eyes, burying her face into her doll’s hair so she wouldn’t see the spell hitting her. Her body stiffened in expectation of the pain that awaited her.

  But her heart didn’t stop beating when it hit. Her breath still moved in and out of her chest. A tingle raced along her skin like a warm summer shower. Her muscles relaxed, and she looked up from her doll. A blue light was fading around her, and Master Tyrrus stood in front of her with his mouth hanging open.

  “By the goddess,” he whispered, “I’ve never seen anything like that.”

  “Like what?” Kira asked, curiosity replacing her fear.

  “Please don’t tell anyone,” her mother begged before he could answer. “We don’t have much, but if word got out, we’d lose everything.”

  The door from the front room banged open. Her father’s massive frame blocked the light from the windows and cast an ominous shadow across the room. “What happened with Kira? Is she hurt?”

  Her mother ran to him, looping her arm through his. “She’s fine… for now.”

  They all talked about her, but none of them came near her. Her mother refused to even look at her. Kira sat on the floor and held onto her doll, thankful to have the attention away from her.

  Master Tyrrus hadn’t forgotten about her, though. He pointed his finger at her. “Your daughter has the Gift.”

  “Stop talking such nonsense.” Her father’s dark eyes narrowed, and his face tightened. “You know such things aren’t allowed.”

  “They aren’t, and yet I know what I’ve seen today. Your daughter has one of the strongest Gifts I’ve ever come across. If she’d been born a boy—”

  “But she wasn’t,” her father snapped.

  “And why did you choose to ignore the law?”

  The fight vanished from her father’s shoulders, leaving them limp and hanging. “I know what the law dictates, but I kept praying we could hide it and keep our only child alive.”

  Her mother laid a comforting hand on her father’s shoulder and cast a pleading glance at Master Tyrrus. “Mariliel gave us Kira after years of barrenness. We did not want to squander her Gift.”

  Master Tyrrus waddled to the chair beside the table and collapsed in it. He wiped the sweat from the top of his balding head. “By law, I’m supposed to destroy her, but like you, I have no desire to squander Mariliel’s Gifts. She could become the most powerful mage of her generation if the law didn’t forbid it.”

  Her parents exchanged glances, but said nothing.

  “Come here, Kira.”

  She looked to her parents for permission to go to the Master Mage, but they remained quiet. She got to her feet slowly and inched toward Tyrrus. Would he continue to show her mercy, or was he reeling her in for the kill?

  “Tell me, child—would you like to learn more about magic?”

  “But the law—”

  Master Tyrrus shushed her father with a wave of his hand. “I’m speaking to the child, not you.”

  Kira hesitated. If she said yes, she’d be admitting to using magic. But if she said no, what would he do? She studied his face for any signs of malice, but saw none. In truth, he had a gentle face with puffy cheeks and merry eyes. She nodded.

  “I don’t have an apprentice at the moment, and I would love the opportunity to take you on as one and teach you what I know.”

  Her breath caught. He wasn’t going to kill her. He was going to teach her more spells!

  Her mother stepped forward. “Master Tyrrus, surely you jest. If you tried to teach her magic, both of you could be executed.”

  “Only if they found out she was a girl.” He winked at Kira and pinched her cheek. “I’d be willing to take that chance, though, if it meant her Gift wouldn’t be squandered. Would you be willing to let me make Kira my apprentice and take her with me?”

  Her parents exchanged another glance, their gazes locked in a wordless conversation. At last, her father replied, “You promise to keep her safe from harm?”

  Master Tyrrus stood. “Upon my life.”

  “Kira, do you understand what you would need to do if you went with Master Tyrrus?” Her mother took the doll from her again, this time more gently. “You’d have to pretend to be a boy for the rest of your life. That means no more dolls, no more dresses, no more ribbons.”

  Kira stared at her doll. As much as she loved playing with it, she couldn’t ignore that thrill that came from unleashing the magic inside her. It was far better than playing dolls with the other children. She was about to embark on the sort of adventure the bards sang about.

  Her heart squeezed tighter, though, as she looke
d at her parents. She’d have to leave them behind, too, and go with a stranger. They trusted him to take care of her, and they were willing to let her go so she’d be able to learn how to use her Gift. They loved her enough to let her go, and she didn’t want to hurt them by staying here any longer and risking another magical accident like today. If she went with Master Tyrrus, they’d be safe.

  She wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck and hugged her. “Yes, Mommy, I understand. Thank you.”

  BONUS: Epilogue to The Tears of Elios