not have been difficult for Eric to set them up before he rode off to the city. If that was true, she would definitely have passed the test. And if it was not, she could report with some satisfaction to Eric that Abel had made his solo presence known to the poachers.
There was a basket of things waiting for her on the stillroom workbench when she opened the door: the various items that Granny and Godmother Elena had promised her, and the recipes she would be using them in. There were two she was able to complete before lunch, and three more — which required much more steeping and combining and distilling — that she got started. All in all, a good morning!
She brought the two completed items with her — a powder and a decoction — when she came down to dinner. Sebastian greeted her with a happy grin, and her concoctions with a whistle of appreciation.
“I don’t know what it is, but I have no luck at making these things,” he said ruefully, over rabbit stewed in wine — they still had an over-abundance of rabbits in the larder, thanks to all the ground she and Eric had been covering. “I either measure it wrongly, or I steep it too long or not enough, or I boil it over when I try to distill.”
She paused a moment, and sucked on her spoon. “Maybe I am a witch, after all?” she hazarded. “Witches are supposed to be very good with herbs and potions and all that sort of thing.”
“But so are sorceresses,” he reminded her. “It’s not just what you are good with. It’s what you are good at.”
Well, that was true… She wasn’t any good at Transformations, which was a witch specialty, nor the little cousin of Transformations, Illusions. The stable cats were absolutely indifferent to her, and generally you could not manage to walk through a witch’s house without having to shove aside half a dozen cats. Witches were quite good at sending their spirits out “piggybacking” on animals and birds — her spirit stayed quite stubbornly in her body, refusing to budge.
On the other hand, when it came to the manipulation of sheer, raw magical energy, her control was getting better and more precise every day. And that was certainly the hallmark of a sorceress.
“But if you haven’t any luck making the components — ” she began.
“Ah! You see, a wizard doesn’t have to. That’s why he has an apprentice!” Sebastian laughed. “I’ll tell you the truth — the ‘absentminded wizard’ is more true of me than I would like to admit. Making components bores me, and that’s half the reason why I’m no good at it.”
“Aha, now the truth comes out!” she said with amusement. “Thank Godmother Elena for sending me the ingredients then.”
He snorted. “Godmother Elena was getting tired of sending me the components every time I begged her, and so was Granny when I actually dared to approach her. Which I didn’t unless I couldn’t help it,” he retorted. “It’s hardly difficult for magicians like them. And in the Godmother’s case, it’s not as if she was making them herself! No, it was her Brownies who were doing it.”
“And if she sends components to every whining wizard?” Bella responded. “That’s scarcely a good use of her time!”
“But other wizards have apprentices!” He mock-pouted. “I’ve never had one until now! Apprentices are supposed to do all the boring work for you!”
This was a great improvement over the melancholy Sebastian. She liked this version of him much better.
She mimed a cuff at him across the table. He ducked and grinned.
“All right, let’s go get to work,” she told him. “You’ve stuffed your face quite enough. I want to see if you actually know how to do anything with my hard work.”
“And if I don’t?” he asked archly.
She growled at him. “Then I will stand over you and make you concoct the rest of the list yourself!”
He was not in the least cowed. “Good thing I do know exactly what to make with your welcome bounty, then! Come on, apprentice. Let’s see if you can master the next lesson I have for you!”
17
THE HORSE — SHE STILL DIDN’T KNOW ITS NAME, SINCE Eric evidently didn’t think that the name of a horse was important — eeled his way along a game trail that Bella could scarcely make out. Eric was right, the horses he used did know all the trails. All she had to do was start the beast down one, and it did the rest. She was a little farther afield than usual, but this was an easier part of the forest; easier to spot the rabbit runs and easier to see the snares. As she rode, Bella had that back-of-the-neck-prickling feeling that always came when she was being watched.
Not that this disturbed her. In fact, if it was the poachers, she wanted to be watched. She was proving that even while Eric was disporting himself among the ladies of purchasable virtue in the city, Abel, his new Under- Gamekeeper, was more than adequate to taking up his patrols. This would please Eric, and it would cement her identity in his mind as “Abel.”
In the two days he had been gone so far, she had collected a proper number of snares. Not so many that she could have said for certain that Eric had left them for her to find, but quite enough to prove that she was not slacking off in his absence.
As for Sebastian —
Since the night he had made his proposal, he had not made any more overtly romantic overtures. But his entire manner had changed for the better. He laughed more. He no longer had that haunted look about him. He was even tentatively talking about what he might do if he was given leave to come back to Court. So he had stopped thinking about it as an impossibility and had begun contemplating it as something he wanted to do.
If anything, she was fonder of this new Sebastian than of the old.
She finished her patrol — a good handful of snares, but no rabbits, which was something of a relief, because she was looking forward to something other than rabbit for supper tonight — and headed back toward the Manor.
The feeling of being watched did not ebb…
