Bringers of Magic (Arucadi Book 2)

by E. Rose Sabin

  Jerome cleared his throat. “What did you wish me to do, sir?” he asked deferentially.

  Recalled to the present, Hardwick sat up straight and rubbed his hands together. “I want you to go to the train station and get the schedule of trains arriving from North Woods Province. Then I want you to meet each of those trains and watch for two women traveling together. Pity we don’t know what they look like, but you’re resourceful. I rely on you to be waiting when they arrive, find them, and bring them to me immediately. Give them no chance to put on any magic display. Tell them … tell them they have to have a license to practice magic arts. Tell them that as council master I want to give them a proper welcome. Oh, tell them anything that works, but get them here fast. Is that clear?”

  “Perfectly clear, sir,” Jerome said. “I’ll go at once.”

  Efficient young man, Hardwick mused, listening to the brisk departing footsteps. Reliable. Smart. I’ll have to watch him. First thing you know he’ll be after my job.

  Ed stumbled blindly down the steps of the City Hall and ran down the sidewalk until he was well away from the hated building, Ed stopped only when Councilor Hardwick couldn’t see him if he looked out his office window. Leaning against a tree, breathing hard, Ed tried to get his trembling under control. Why was Councilor Hardwick always so mean to him? What had he done to deserve such treatment?

  Ed looked at the folded paper in his hand. Suppose the councilor had told Miss Abigail how bad he had behaved? How he’d kept mussing his hair though Miss Abigail had warned him about that before he left? He had to know.

  He opened the paper and read, running his finger beneath the lines, struggling to decipher the sprawling script. After reading it through once, he started over, not sure he understood. The note contained nothing about him; that was all he really needed to know. But with relief on that point came curiosity. What did the council president plan to do with the wonder workers? He didn’t think the note agreed to do exactly what Miss Abigail had asked, but he wasn’t sure what the councilor was agreeing to. Maybe he wouldn’t send the wonder workers away after all.

  “Hey, Eddie, whatcha got?”

  The shout warned Ed of the approach of a group of schoolboys, just released from their classes at the Groler Carey Academy for Young Gentlemen. The school, named for Carey’s founder, drew boys from wealthy families and some less wealthy, but none from poor homes like the one Eddie had grown up in. His head jerked up; he clasped the note to his chest.

  “Bet it’s a love note! Simple Eddie’s got a girlfriend.” The boys circled round him, laughing and jeering, not acting at all like “young gentlemen.”

  “Let’s see the note, Eddie,” one called.

  “Yeah, let us read it, Eddie. Let’s see who it’s from.”

  “It’s not mine,” Ed protested. “It’s for Miss Abigail.”

  “Oh, sure, Eddie. Come on, show us the love note,” a younger boy taunted, dancing around him.

  One of the bigger boys made a grab for the note. Eddie dodged him and tried to run. The boys were all younger than he was, and smaller, but there were seven or eight of them, dancing around him, pulling and tugging at him. He tried to fight them off and protect the letter at the same time. One jabbed a fist in his stomach and, when he doubled over, snatched the note from his hand.

  “No!” Ed howled. “Give that back!”

  They dashed away, laughing. Ed charged after them. One scooped up a rock and hurled it at him. It struck him on the shoulder, but he kept running. The other boys grabbed up sticks and stones and pelted him with them, driving him back. A stone struck his face, ripped open his cheek. Another grazed his head. A stick stabbed his shirtsleeve. He turned and ran, followed by catcalls and jeers.

  He ran all the way to the school, but he did not go inside. School was out for the day, but Miss Abigail would be in her office. How could he face her, bleeding and bruised as he was, with his clothes torn? Worst of all, he’d lost Councilor Hardwick’s letter. He could tell her what it said, but then she’d know he read it. If the councilor found out, he’d try again to have him put into the workhouse. Miss Abigail’d probably let him do it when she saw what a mess he was and how bad he’d been.

  Ed sneaked around the school and slunk to the small cabin Miss Abigail had fixed up for him out of what used to be a storage shed. He went inside and threw himself face down on his cot. Eventually someone would come and find him and he’d be punished, but he didn’t know what to do, where to go, where to hide. They were right. He was only Simple Eddie who wasn’t good for anything and belonged in the workhouse.

  He waited for someone to come and beat him and take him away.

  CHAPTER TWO

  WELCOME TO CAREY

  Marta squirmed, trying to find a comfortable position in the hard train seat. Enviously she watched Kyla sleep. Giving up on her own vain attempts to nap, she cast covert glances at her fellow passengers and met curious stares in return. They reminded Marta of vultures, all waiting and hoping to see a display of magic power. Probably puzzling over why the “wonder workers” were riding the train instead of flying on the wind as the rumors said they could do.

  Marta smiled grimly. She wished she could ride the wind. It would be faster and more comfortable than this long train ride. Odd—Kyla, who had only seen her first train about three years ago and had been terrified by it, now preferred a train journey to a wind ride, while she, Marta the earthbound, detested the roar and clatter and bruising jolts and longed for the freedom of a soaring flight high above trees and hilltops.

  The excitement she had felt at the start of this mission had paled. She had known from the outset that they would encounter opposition and face many dangers, but she had expected greater rewards in compensation. In fact, the dangers had, in her opinion (though not in Kyla’s), outweighed the successes. The number of those who proved able to accept their gift of power was small, while the number who opposed them through fear and prejudice was far greater than she had imagined.

  When they’d started out, her enthusiasm had been greater than Kyla’s. Now Kyla was the one who insisted that they continue, while Marta questioned the wisdom of imparting gifts that would bring persecution and hardship to their new possessors.

  Maybe it would be different in Inland Province, where no one knew them and harbored resentment against them from the outset.

  She stared out the window and watched the wind toss chaff about the seemingly endless fields, flattened after the grain harvest and awaiting the fall plowing and planting. She had looked forward to this first trip away from North Woods Province, where she had been born and where she had lived until now. At first, Inland Province had looked no different from North Woods, but the mountains at the border had softened to rolling hills and then flattened and stretched into a depressing monotony.

  To distract herself, she again surveyed the other passengers, not with her eyes this time but with an inner sense that allowed her to discern an ability to receive the gift of power. From deep within herself she drew forth a tendril of power and sent it snaking about the car, touching each occupant in turn. None would feel it or have any idea they were being probed.

  She let the tendril of power play over each person only long enough to sense a capacity for magic, if one existed. No faint tingle along her arms and shoulders alerted her to a possible power receiver. She sighed and returned to staring out the window.

  Kyla awoke and stretched. “How long have I been sleeping?”

  “About two hours.”

  “So we have only one more hour to Carey.” Kyla sat up and smoothed her dress, then found a comb in her bag and ran it through her long brown hair.

  “That’s six hours too long,” Marta grumbled. “I’m already black and blue from bouncing around on this hard seat. Why can’t they put cushions on the things?”

  “They probably could, but they’d have to charge more for the tickets, and a lot of people, including us, couldn’t afford to ride.”

  “Well, it isn
’t as if we had to.”

  Kyla laughed. “Didn’t you agree that we should visit other provinces and spend time in cities?”

  “That isn’t what I meant.” Marta couldn’t be more explicit; the other passengers were listening with more than a little interest. But Kyla had understood and was being deliberately difficult.

  “I’m looking forward to getting to Carey, too,” Kyla said. “I hope we can find a decent place to stay. I’m ready for a hot bath and a good meal.”

  “We’ll have to get our North Woods coppers changed,” Marta reminded her. “I don’t know why all the provinces can’t use the same coppers the way they do dorins and triums. I hope the rate of exchange is favorable, or we may not be able to afford a hotel.”

  “Don’t we have one or two triums left?” Kyla had lowered her voice to a whisper. “I know we used our last gold dorin, but I thought—”

  In the uncrowded coach, empty seats separated them from the other passengers. Even so, Marta kept her own voice low as she said, “We have two triums, but we should keep them for an emergency.”

  Kyla smiled. “We have other reserves for emergencies. I vote we use a trium for a hotel, wait until tomorrow to change the coppers, and then see what we can do to earn what we need.”

  Marta shook her head. “Carey’s large enough to have a copper exchange at the train station. We should exchange the coppers right away and see how far we can get on them. You said yourself that North Woods was only our training ground. Yes, we had a rough time in Lines End, but we knew what to expect and were prepared. In Carey and the larger cities we’ll face dangers we can’t foresee.”

  “The Power-Giver will protect us. His power increases as we share it with others.”

  The Power-Giver. It was hard for Marta to think of Alair in that way. It was true that Alair sent power through them to those they found able to receive it, but the power wasn’t really his. He drew it from the Dire Realms, especially from Claid, the Dire Lord he’d kept captive for many years, free now but willing to share his power for the sake of his friendship with Kyla and Marta.

  He was the true Power-Giver. Marta didn’t like to hear Kyla give all the credit to Alair. True, Alair had loved Kyla when he was a human mage, but Kyla was well aware that Claid was Alair’s greatest source of power. She could not have forgotten the debt they both owed to Claid.

  Kyla would not appreciate a reminder about that, so Marta chose to remind her of something else. “No matter how much Alair’s power might be increasing, you and I are still mortal. Alair hasn’t always protected us from surprise attacks. It was Ruffian who protected you by jumping up and taking the rifle bullet meant for you. Think how often that dog saved us by warning of danger. Now we don’t have that help.”

  Kyla’s eyes filled with tears. “I know. I miss him. But Alair made Ruffian our protector, and he’ll provide another protector in his place. Maybe not the same kind, not another dog. Maybe not anything we’d expect, but the Power-Giver won't leave us unguarded.”

  Another protector? Maybe. Marta wished she could share Kyla’s confidence.

  She closed her eyes and lapsed into a silence that slid into restless sleep. Kyla woke her as the train pulled into Carey. It was growing dark. Already gaslights illumined the station platform, casting their soft glow over the large brick station, a finer building than any they’d seen in North Woods Province. A small crowd waited to greet the deboarding passengers. Watching the other passengers gather bundles and valises and hurry off into the embraces of friends and family, Marta felt a pang of loneliness. No one would be meeting them; no one knew or cared that they were coming.

  She adjusted her blouse, smoothed the wrinkles in her long skirt, picked up the valise that held all the possessions she owned, and followed Kyla from the train, thinking longingly of the days when they’d traveled in tunic and trousers, their goods in backpacks, Ruffian trotting by their side.

  Kyla had only stepped onto the platform when she stopped so suddenly that Marta bumped into her. “Sorry,” she said. “But feel the wind.”

  Marta shrugged. A stiff breeze was blowing, hardly unusual for an autumn day. It meant nothing to her except the need to clutch her skirt to keep it from whipping about. But then, she wasn’t a windspeaker.

  Kyla stood there, eyes closed, taking deep breaths and looking like a starving person who’d just been handed a plateful of rich food. “It’s lovely,” Marta heard her murmur. “Soft gold and sweet smelling.”

  Marta could smell nothing but the sweaty bodies of the passengers. She grabbed Kyla’s arm and steered her toward the station.

  Before they reached the door, a young man blocked their path. “Pardon me, ladies,” he said, courteously removing his hat. “Is this your first visit to Carey?”

  “Yes, it is,” Kyla answered while Marta appraised the stranger.

  An icy tingle coursed along her arms and shoulders, its coldness a warning. This man had the potential for power, but he should not be trusted with it.

  Tall, well groomed, neatly dressed in dark topcoat and gray trousers, he looked more friendly than menacing. His smile was open, his gaze direct. But Marta knew all too well how easily some men smiled and how little it meant.

  “I was asked to watch for two ladies traveling alone from North Woods Province,” he said. “I’m Jerome Esterville, secretary to Councilor Hardwick, council master of Carey’s town council. May I ask whether you’ve come from Dabney?

  “We have,” Kyla answered, “but we weren’t expected here. I don’t think we can be the women you are looking for.”

  “Probably not,” he said, his smile fading to a look of disappointment. “The ladies I seek are known as ‘wonder workers’ or ‘bringers of magic.’ They seem to be itinerant magicians who are claimed to confer mystical powers on favored individuals. I had hoped … but, no, of course you can’t be they.”

  Marta’s heart sank. So they weren’t starting out with a clean slate, after all. They would be facing the same handicaps they’d faced in North Woods.

  But Kyla asked with a hint of a smile, “And if we were?”

  “Ah, if you were, I’d be privileged to escort you to Councilor Hardwick’s office so that he could give you a proper greeting on behalf of the Carey Council.”

  “What sort of greeting would that be?” Kyla’s teasing question sent a premonitory shudder crawling up Marta’s spine. This young man was hiding something behind his polite and pleasant pose, and a confrontation with the city officials smelled of a trap.

  “A greeting appropriate to their fame and quality,” he said with a bow.

  “But since we are not those ladies,” Marta interposed before Kyla could make a damaging admission, “perhaps instead you could direct us to a good hotel?”

  “My dear ladies,” he said, turning his clear-eyed gaze at Marta, “it is ill-advised for two unaccompanied young women to go alone to a hotel. I beg you, let me escort you to Councilor Hardwick’s office. He will be happy to find you safer and more fitting accommodations.”

  “We were about to find the copper exchange here at the station,” Marta objected. “We’ll need Inland coins before we go anywhere.”

  Jerome smiled and shook his head. “Unfortunately the rate of exchange here at the station is far from favorable. The Council Master can help you transact that business, and the rate will be more reasonable.”

  Marta frowned and would have offered further objections, but Kyla threw her a quick, cautioning glance and said, “Thank you, Master Esterville. I think we should see Councilor Hardwick.”

  “A wise decision,” he said. “Let me carry your valises.”

  As he threaded his way through the station crowd and led the women past hansoms and horse-drawn carriages, Jerome congratulated himself on his good fortune. He'd expected to have to meet trains for several days before spotting his quarry. Also, he had pictured older women, crones perhaps, not these attractive young women, neither of whom appeared older than eighteen.

  Notw
ithstanding the denial from the younger, sharp-featured one, he had not the slightest doubt that these were the two he sought. He had seen the glance that passed between them, had heard the subtle undertone that lay beneath the teasing banter of the one who seemed to be the leader.

  He would not make the mistake of underestimating them, despite their youth. They had to be clever to have caused all the commotion in North Woods Province and to have convinced so many of their powers. He might pretend to be charmed by them, but he would not, for an instant, let down his guard.

  He conducted them into Hardwick’s outer office, set down their valises, and knocked on the councilor’s door. Almost immediately the door swung open; Could Hardwick have been listening for them? He couldn’t have expected them to arrive so soon, yet the councilor stepped out, beaming, showing no surprise at their arrival nor at the women’s youth. “So these are the magicians?” he said with a heartiness that might to the women have betokened a genuine welcome but which Jerome recognized as stemming from the man’s colossal greed. Clearly he saw in the wonder workers an opportunity for profit.

  “They claim not, sir.” Jerome kept his voice carefully noncommittal. “They are two women traveling alone from Dabney, the only such journeyers to arrive on the evening train from North Woods. They wanted to go to a hotel, but I advised against it. I’ve told them that you would be happy to find them more appropriate accommodations.”

  “Ah, quite so. As usual, Jerome, you have acted prudently. I commend you. Ladies, please step into my office.” He backed against the open door and waved them inside. Jerome saw two chairs already positioned in front of his desk. As the women moved toward the chairs, Hardwick said, “If anyone comes, tell them I’m in conference.” He swung the door shut, closing Jerome out.