A Matter of Magic

by Patricia C. Wrede

  “Blast!” said Mairelon. “I wanted a look at his face. Perhaps if we try another angle—”

  The image wobbled and distorted, like a reflection in water when a pebble drops into it. Kim got a brief impression of blue eyes and a damp wisp of hair plastered wetly to a high forehead, and then the picture was gone. The shiny surface of the ink reflected only a glimmer of light from Kim’s candle.

  Mairelon scowled at the salver, then reached for the ink-soaked wool. As he lifted the cloth, the ink slid off like hot oil running out of a pan, leaving the threads clean. “You can drop the ward now, Kim,” he said as he pocketed the scrap.

  Obediently, Kim recited the closing phrase and blew out the candle. Hunch collected it and the empty ink bottle and carried them off. Mairelon continued to frown at the salver. “That was not nearly as useful as I’d hoped,” he said. “Perhaps I should have waited; we might have gotten a glimpse of his rooms. But I was hoping to see his face, and I didn’t want him to have a chance to change his coat.”

  “Well, if you’d waited much longer, he wouldn’t of had the coat at all, I’ll bet,” Kim said.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Why else would a toff be on Petticoat Lane at this time of night, unless he had something for the togs-men?”

  Mairelon blinked. “Petticoat Lane? You’re sure?”

  Kim snorted. “I spent enough time there. He was just down from Flash Annie’s, by where Willie Bast used to lay up. It’s a good job for him that it’s a mucky night out, or he’d be rid of more than his coat.”

  Hunch returned and picked up the salver with a disapproving look. “Are you done with this, Master Richard?”

  “What? Yes, of course. Did you notice anything else, Kim?”

  “He has blue eyes,” Kim offered. “And he wears a gold ring with a flower on it and a ruby in the center.”

  “And he has his boots from Hoby,” Mairelon said. “It’s not much to go on, but it’s a help. Now, let’s make a list of these books and see what we can tell from it.”

  The pile of books on the table had stopped glowing sometime during Mairelon’s scrying spell. Mairelon sat down and began sorting through them, while Hunch brought him a pen, paper, and a fresh bottle of ink. As Mairelon wrote titles, Kim shifted books so he could see the ones he hadn’t written down yet, and in ten minutes the list was complete.

  “There,” Mairelon said, and glanced around the library. “I believe that’s all we can do tonight.” He picked up his list and, in the absence of a blotter, blew gently on the ink to hasten its drying.

  “What about tomorrow?” Kim said.

  “Tomorrow, I’ll take this over to the Royal College and see whether Kerring has any thoughts on it.”

  “Who’s Kerring?”

  “Lord Kerring is head archivist at the Royal College of Wizards,” Mairelon replied. “If there’s a connection among all these titles, he’ll spot it. He might even have some idea which wizards would be likely to know a bit about burglary.”

  “That cove didn’t know the first thing about the crack lay,” Kim said. “I wouldn’t of heard him at all, if he had.”

  Mairelon looked thoughtful. “Possibly he’s more of a magician than I’d been thinking. If he was depending on magic to pull off his theft—”

  “He was still a clunker,” Kim said firmly. “And I didn’t notice any spellcasting.”

  “He invoked the spell he had stored in this,” Mairelon said, holding up the broken rod.

  “Then why didn’t I notice it?”

  “Because it was invoked, not cast,” Mairelon replied. “The spellcasting took place when the spell was originally stored in the rod, which could have been hours ago, or even days. When the spell is invoked, you wouldn’t notice anything unless you were touching either the storage container or the object the spell was intended to affect.”

  “I think I see,” Kim said.

  “If our burglar had another trick or two like this, he could have used them without alerting you,” Mairelon went on, fingering the rod. “Rather a good precaution to take if you’re going to burgle a wizard’s house, now that I think of it. I believe we should set a few wards around the house tomorrow, just in case he comes back.”

  “What if that there burglar comes back tonight?” Hunch said.

  “Then the library will no doubt be a wreck when we come down in the morning, Harry will probably collect another lump on his head, Aunt Agatha will be prostrate with the vapours, and I shall have to apologize to everyone for my carelessness.” Mairelon smiled sweetly at Hunch. “Unless, of course, you spend the night here, on watch.”

  “I might ’ave known you’d think of that,” Hunch muttered. “Well, as long as you don’t go ’aring off after ’im while I’m busy elsewhere.”

  “Hunch! Would I do such a thing?”

  “You ’ave before.”

  “I’m a reformed character.”

  Kim choked back a snort of laughter. Mairelon turned and looked at her with mock disapproval.

  “I seem to recall telling Aunt Agatha that I’d send you up before you took a chill. As we appear to be finished here, for the time being—”

  “As long as you don’t go haring off after that burglar without me,” Kim echoed.

  “You’re getting to be as bad as Hunch,” Mairelon said, and Kim laughed and left him.

  3

  When Kim came down to breakfast the following morning, Mairelon was there before her. Mrs. Lowe was fortunately not in evidence, and Kim bolted her meal in hopes of getting away before she turned up. After five minutes, Mairelon looked up and said mildly, “What’s the rush?”

  “Mrs. Lowe,” Kim replied, then flushed as she realized how it must sound. Well, she’d wanted to talk to Mairelon about his aunt, hadn’t she? She just hadn’t planned on blurting it out over breakfast. She must be more tired than she’d thought.

  “Ah.” Mairelon looked suddenly thoughtful. “Has Aunt Agatha been so much of a problem?”

  “Nothing I can’t manage,” Kim said. Then honesty forced her to add, “Yet.”

  Mairelon glanced at Kim’s almost empty plate. “I see.”

  Gathering her courage, Kim said, “Yesterday, she said something about—”

  The far door opened, and Mrs. Lowe entered. “Good morning, Richard. You’re up early. Good morning, Kim.”

  “I’ve a busy day ahead of me,” Mairelon said, rising politely to greet her.

  Mrs. Lowe helped herself to eggs and herring from the platters on the sideboard, then joined them at the table. Much to Kim’s relief, she took the chair beside Mairelon. “I hope all this running about will not go on indefinitely,” she said, picking up her fork.

  “Some things are difficult to be definite about,” Mairelon said.

  “Your levity is unbecoming, Richard, and not at all to the point,” Mrs. Lowe said, giving him a stern look. “In another week, the Season will be upon us, and as you have chosen to come to Town for once, I shall expect you to find a little more time for your social and family obligations.”

  “Oh, you may expect whatever you like, Aunt.” Mairelon’s tone was careless, but there was a set to his shoulders that told Kim he was not pleased.

  “People are already arriving, and I fear there are still quite a few who are . . . confused about your proper standing.”

  “I can’t imagine why. I’m the least confusing person I know.”

  Kim choked on her toast. Mrs. Lowe frowned, but it was impossible to tell whether it was at Kim or at Mairelon.

  “I think you are being deliberately dense, Richard,” Mrs. Lowe said after a moment. “I am of course referring to your role in the theft of the Saltash Set from the Royal College of Wizards seven years ago.”

  “I had no role whatever in the theft of the Saltash Set,” Mairelon said, frowning. “I had a role in its recovery. Rather a large one.”

  “Yes, of course, Richard, but still. . . . Your innocence may have been established in a legal sense—”<
br />
  “Not ‘may have been,’ ” Mairelon put in, his frown deepening. “Has been.”

  “—but there are those in Society who still have doubts. Your . . . eccentricities since your return have done nothing to reassure the ton.”

  “Eccentricities?” Mairelon raised his eyebrows.

  “As you chose not to appear socially during last year’s Season, you perhaps do not realize just how much talk there has been.” The muscles in Mrs. Lowe’s neck tightened, and Kim realized that she was carefully not looking in Kim’s direction.

  Kim tensed angrily, then forced herself to relax. It wasn’t exactly a surprise that Mrs. Lowe disapproved of her, and it might be true that the existence of Mairelon’s unusual ward had somehow tarnished his reputation. Toffs were odd that way; even after a year of life among the gentry, Kim knew she didn’t understand them.

  “Gossip drives the Season,” Mairelon said, and there was a faint edge beneath the outward blandness of his tone. “I’m glad to have been of service.”

  “It is no service to yourself or your family,” Mrs. Lowe said severely. “If you do not exert yourself a little this year, I shall have to wash my hands of you.”

  Kim looked up hopefully, but managed to bite her tongue before anything untoward slipped out. Mairelon, however, caught her expression and laughed. His reaction drew his aunt’s attention to Kim, and, after giving them both a quelling look, Mrs. Lowe said, “There is another thing I have been meaning to speak to you about, Richard.”

  “And what is that?”

  “Your ward’s education,” Mrs. Lowe replied, and Kim’s stomach clenched.

  “Kim has been doing very well,” Mairelon said. “She’s learned to read, and her magic skills are coming along nicely. It will be a while before she has the necessary Latin and Greek, of course, but she has a remarkable memory for chants and invocations, and an eye for detail that will be very useful when she gets to more advanced work.”

  Pleased and a little surprised by the unexpected compliment, Kim looked down at her plate.

  Mrs. Lowe coughed. “I was referring to her social education, Richard. It has been sadly neglected. No doubt you had your reasons, and it could not matter much while she was safely in Kent, but now that you have brought her to London it is imperative that she learn how to go on.”

  “Why?” Kim demanded, looking up. “It’s not as if I’m going to balls or anything.”

  “So long as you are my nephew’s ward, you will undoubtedly meet persons of consequence from time to time,” Mrs. Lowe said. “Your behavior toward them will reflect on your guardian, and on the rest of his family. And while the Merrill family is undeniably well-connected and well-off—”

  Forty thousand pounds in the Funds is only “well-off”? Kim barely managed to stop herself from shaking her head in disbelief.

  “—connections are no protection from scandal.” She turned to Mairelon. “So long as her time is so completely occupied by her magic studies, Kim is unlikely to learn what she needs to know in order to cope with Society.”

  “But does Society know how to cope with Kim?” Mairelon murmured. “Still, perhaps you’re right.” He looked at Kim. “How would you like to come along to the Royal College of Wizards with me this morning? It’s time you had a look at it, and I’m sure you’ll like Kerring.”

  Kim, caught with her mouth full, could only nod emphatically. Mrs. Lowe frowned. “Richard! That is not at all what I meant.”

  “No? Well, I’m sure it will work out.”

  “Furthermore, Kim and I have an important engagement this afternoon for tea,” Mrs. Lowe said. “She can’t possibly spend the day at the Royal College.”

  “Oh, it won’t take all day,” Mairelon assured her. “Kim, if you’re finished lingering over your breakfast, we should be going.”

  Kim dropped her cutlery at once and stood up. Mrs. Lowe frowned. “Richard, you can’t take that girl out in—I mean, her conduct is not always to be depended upon.”

  Mairelon smiled seraphically. “According to you, neither is mine. We’ll make a splendid pair. But don’t worry; Hunch will keep us on the near side of acceptable behavior. Kim?”

  Choking back laughter, Kim followed him to the door, while Mairelon’s aunt sputtered in annoyance behind them.

  The Royal College of Wizards occupied a long, rectangular building on the Thames, across from Westminster Abbey. The central section dated back almost to the Conquest; the rest was the work of latter-day heads of the college who had maintained their privileged position against subsequent kings and bishops alike. Westminster Hall, where Parliament met, had had to expand into a palace upriver, instead of onto the desirable land already occupied by the wizards.

  Kim did not have much chance to study the outside of the building. As soon as their coach pulled up at the entrance, Mairelon jumped down before the footman could reach the carriage door. He headed briskly for the weathered oak doors of the college, leaving Kim no choice but to hurry after. Inside, they whisked past the main hall, allowing Kim only a glimpse of threadbare banners and stone pillars, and a brief whiff of musty air. They climbed a narrow flight of stone stairs, whose centers had been worn down a good two inches by centuries of magicians hurrying up and down. At last, they emerged in a small, bare entrance room with two other doors. Without hesitation, Mairelon crossed to the far door and tugged sharply on the faded bellpull beside it.

  “Now, if Marchmain hasn’t got all the apprentices busy hunting out historical documents for some project or other—Ah, here we are.”

  The right-hand door opened, and a slender, brown-haired young man entered and peered at them nearsightedly. “May I be of assistance?”

  “I’m Richard Merrill, and this is my apprentice, Kim. We need to see Lord Kerring, if he’s here. Is he?”

  “I believe so,” said the young man, “but he’s busy.”

  “Kerring’s always busy. We’ll see him anyway. Come along, Kim.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good—” The young man broke off. Mairelon had already brushed past him and disappeared through the doorway.

  “Don’t worry,” Kim told him as she followed Mairelon. “If this Lord Kerring cove knows Mairelon—I mean, Mr. Merrill—then he’ll know who to blame for interrupting him. And it won’t be you.”

  With the apprentice trailing after, they made their way through a maze of narrow corridors. Finally, Mairelon stopped before a door that, to Kim, looked exactly like all the others they had just passed. He waited just long enough for Kim and the apprentice to catch up, then opened the door and went in.

  The room on the other side was much larger than Kim had expected, but there was very little space to walk in. Bookcases not only lined the walls but poked out at right angles to them, leaving only narrow aisles which were further choked by occasional precarious stacks of books on the floor. A narrow table beside the door was piled shoulder-high with books, and there were more books under it. The room smelled of musty paper, old leather, and dust. Kim sneezed.

  From one of the alcoves, a deep voice boomed, “What’s that? Who’s there? Never mind, just go away. I’m working.”

  “You’re always working, Kerring,” Mairelon said. “We’ll leave as soon as we’ve gotten a couple of answers.”

  A very hairy head poked around the side of one of the bookcases. “You’re not going to get them that—Richard Merrill! Why didn’t you say it was you? What have you gotten into this time?”

  As he spoke, Lord Kerring emerged from behind the bookcase, and Kim could not help staring. At first, she thought he was short, but as he came toward them she realized that he was actually of average height; he only looked short because he was so round. He was of middle age, and his clothes looked like something out of one of the ragbags on Thread-needle Street—they had clearly been of excellent quality when they were new, but now they were so rumpled and dusty that they would not have looked out of place on a costermonger in the Hungerford Market. A tuft of cat hair clung to the b
ack of one sleeve. He had dark, curly hair and a bushy beard, both much in need of trimming.

  Kim stared. He’s a lord ? And a wizard to boot?

  “Come in, sit down,” Lord Kerring said, waving the relieved apprentice out the door. “Is this that young wizard you found last year? Introduce me.”

  “I’ll be happy to, when you give me a moment’s breathing room,” Mairelon said. “Kerring, my ward and apprentice, Kim. Kim, this is Lord Kerring, one of the senior wizards of the college.”

  “Enchanted,” Kerring said, and bowed with unexpected grace. His eyes twinkled as he added, “Though not in the literal sense. Why haven’t you brought her before? Will you be coming out this year, Miss Merrill?”

  “Just Kim. I don’t think so.” Or rather, when hell freezes over. She had a momentary, dazzling vision of herself whirling across the dance floor at an elaborate ball, then shook her head. Even if I got an invitation, I’d end up sitting out. The Society toffs agree with Mrs. Lowe. “Mr. Merrill has been very kind, but I don’t really belong in Society.”

  Kerring gave her a sharp look, as if he knew exactly what she had been thinking. “Nonsense, my dear. A wizard is the social equal of anyone.”

  The beginnings of a frown vanished from Mairelon’s face. “You’re quite right, Kerring, and it’s a solution I hadn’t thought of. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I think.” Kerring looked at Mairelon blankly; when this was not enough to produce an explanation, he opened his mouth to continue. Mairelon forestalled him.

  “Now, if you’ll just give me a hand with this other matter, we’ll leave you to your books.” Mairelon drew a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Kerring. “Can you tell us anything about these books? What they might have in common, or why anyone might want them?”

  Kerring studied the list, frowning. “It’s an odd assortment. What is it, someone’s collection that you’re thinking of buying?”