the wagon had come to a halt, and joined the party. They all gathered around the wagon as six of the soldiers unloaded the struggling couch, hefted it onto their shoulders, and brought it into the wizard’s parlor.
“What happened?” Yara asked, staring at the couch.
“She saved the overlord’s life,” one of the guardsmen said.
Kilisha, who had just clambered down from the wagon, blinked in surprise at that. She hadn’t thought of it that way at all; she had thought she had endangered the overlord’s life by triggering the couch’s rampage.
But really, how could she have avoided it? Perhaps if she had waited until Wulran wasn’t on the couch before she said anything...
But how could she have known he would be resting there, with his foot under the arm? And once the couch began running she had done everything she could to stop it without getting anyone killed.
Really, she had saved the overlord’s life.
This was quite a shocking realization, and for a moment she was too stunned to speak.
“I knew she would find the couch,” Nissitha said, standing by one of the wagon’s wheels.
Adagan, who was just then climbing down, looked at her and said, “You did not.”
Nissitha’s mouth fell open in surprise as she stared at him- and, Kilisha noticed, she had already been looking at Adagan, making the stare easier.
“Of course I did!” Nissitha managed, as a few of the soldiers- those who were not trying to maneuver the writhing couch through the doorway-turned to listen. “I’m a seer!”
“No, you did not,” Adagan repeated. “And no, you are not.”
Nissitha gaped at him again. “How dare you say that?” she demanded.
“I dare because I’m a witch, and can tell truth from falsehood, and I’m tired of hearing your self-serving lies,” Adagan said wearily. “A seer? You don’t even see what everyone else does, let alone anything more. You don’t realize everyone on the street knows you’re a fraud. You can’t see that I’ve no more interest in you than I would in a toad. Today Kilisha has performed the most astonishing feat of bravery I have ever seen, and deserves to have a moment to glory in it before attempting a complex and difficult spell on Ithanalin’s behalf, yet here you are, thrusting yourself forward and trying to take attention away from her. It’s disgusting. Why don’t you go away and let these soldiers do their jobs, and let Kilisha attend to her master?”
By the end of this speech not just Nissitha, but everyone in the street had fallen into stunned silence, staring at Adagan and listening to every word. When he finished Nissitha let out a strangled gasp, turned, and stamped back into her shop, slamming the door hard behind her.
Another brief silence fell; then Kilisha said, “That was cruel.”
Adagan let out a sigh. “I know,” he said. “She’ll never forgive me. But I’m tired of having her following me around, trying to seduce me, and she might have eventually gotten over anything less vicious.”
“I don’t think she’ll get over that any time soon,” Kilisha said, gazing at Nissitha’s door.
“I’m not sure I will, either,” Adagan said. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I need to go home and throw up.”
“Of course,” Kilisha said.
She was watching Adagan walk away when one of the soldiers cleared his throat behind her. She turned.
The men had gotten the couch into the house and tied it down amid the rest of the furniture; now they were tossing extra ropes back onto the empty wagon.
“Is there anything else we can do for you, lady?” a soldier asked her.
Kilisha blinked at him for a moment, and then, startled by her own daring, said, “Yes, actually. Would you stand guard here for the next hour or so? I need to perform a spell, and it’s very important that no one interrupt me, and that nothing escape during that time.”
“Escape?” The soldier looked at one of his companions. “You mean the couch?”
“Or any of the other furniture, or the bowl, or the spoon, or one particular spriggan,” Kilisha said. “I need them all here.”
The guardsmen exchanged glances; then one turned up a palm. “As you say, lady.”
That settled, Kilisha entered the house smiling.
Yara met her in the parlor as the furniture bumped and clattered around her. “Kilisha, what happened?”
“Til tell you later, Mistress,” Kilisha said. “Right now, I want to perform Javan’s Restorative before anything escapes again. Could you help me fetch everything I need?”
Yara started to say something — presumably, Kilisha thought, to reprimand this insubordinate Apprentice — but then she stopped, frowned, and said, “What will you need?”
“The spriggan, the door latch, the mirror, the bowl, the spoon, the rug, the bench, the couch, the chair, the coatrack, the table- and Ithanalin,” she said. “In the parlor. Oh, and I’ll need incense and jewelweed and... well, I’ll get those.”
Fifteen minutes later everything was in place.
Attempting a spell of this difficulty so soon after the exhausting events at the Fortress might Have been foolish, but Kilisha felt strangely invigorated, rather than tired; the ride home had given her time to recover, and Adagan had called her astonishingly brave, and the soldiers had said she had saved the overlord’s life, and she felt inspired. She could not bear to wait any longer to perform this act of wizardry and put an end to Ithanalin’s dispersal.
This particular performance of Javan’s Restorative turned out to be far and away the most difficult Kilisha had ever managed; the furniture kept trying to move about, the spriggan squeaked and struggled constantly as Yara held it in place, and simply coordinating so many pieces amid the clouds of magical smoke was a severe strain. Kilisha’s initial flush of vigor and enthusiasm faded quickly, and there were times she didn’t think she would be able to finish. The work dragged on and on, well past the hour she had asked of the soldiers, past sunset and suppertime, and still she worked.
And finally, when her reserves were completely exhausted and she knew she could do no more, a sudden silence fell across the furniture, and the clouds of magical smoke began to dissipate. Kilisha let out a breath and turned to her master.
Ithanalin straightened up from his crouch, stretched, smiled, then turned to her and said, “I’m impressed, Apprentice. That was excellent.”
Kilisha smiled at him, and then fainted.
Chapter Thirty-two
Kilisha awoke in her own familiar little bed, with Telleth sitting beside her and a familiar spriggan standing on her feet. She opened her eyes and turned her head to see the morning sunlight through the window.
“She’s awake!” Telleth called, leaping up. “Dad! She’s awake!”
“Awake awake awake!” the spriggan squealed, jumping up and down on Kilisha’s ankle. She kicked it off, and it danced happily on the bed. By the time she looked up from the spriggan Telleth was on the stairs, heading down.
“Thank you, thank you!” the spriggan said. “Got wizard out of head!”
“I didn’t do it for you” Kilisha retorted-but secretly, she was pleased that the spriggan hadn’t been hurt, and didn’t mind being back to itself. She brushed it off the bed, sat up, and reached for her robe.
A few minutes later she ambled down the stairs into the kitchen and found the entire household gathered around the breakfast table, waiting for her. Ithanalin rose from his chair as she entered.
“Kilisha,” he said, “I want to thank you. I saw most of what happened-I remember everything that happened to all the pieces, which is the oddest sensation. I remember you demanding that you be given the bowl and spoon, I remember you coaxing the coatrack to follow you, I remember you chasing the bench, all of it.”
Kilisha swallowed hard. “You remember it all?”
Ithanalin nodded.
Kilisha remembered, too. She remembered yelling at various fragments of her master, chasing them
