Daughter of Magic

“Have you been practicing your riding while I was gone?” she asked, swinging the girl up over her head until she shrieked with delight. “Is it time to start you on your sword-play?”

“Will you mind too much if I don’t become a knight?” Antonia asked once she had her breath back, looking up at Hildegarde with a serious frown. “Because I’ve been thinking. Maybe I should be a wizard after all.”

When I entered my chambers the night before the rooms had nearly reeked with magic-as well as being scattered with enthusiastic if strangely-proportioned drawings of wizards. Although Elerius had said nothing about it, it was clear to me that he had been entertaining Antonia with flashy spells in my absence.

“That’s the way,” said Hildegarde approvingly. “If you’re going to learn magic, be a wizard. Don’t let anyone make you settle for being a witch.”

“My mother’s a witch,” said Antonia proudly.

Hildegarde started to say something and changed her mind. She looked at the girl thoughtfully a moment, then shrugged and turned to me.

“I haven’t been able to talk Celia out of it,” she said quietly. “By evening yesterday she’d lost that possessed look she had earlier-you must have seen it-but she said that now that she had announced to the bishop her intention to become a nun she had to take her vows. I must admit that miracle of Cyrus’s staggered me too, Wizard; I’d been on the bucket brigade, and I saw those buildings consumed. But I tried to remind Celia that she’d always wanted to be a priest instead of a nun-suggested she disguise herself as a man and go to some other seminary, even got so desperate as to offer to go in disguise as an acolyte myself and then come home and teach her what I’d learned! — but nothing would budge her.”

“When does she plan to take her vows?” I asked uneasily, thinking of the duchess’s wrath.

“I think that’s what she’s discussing with the chaplain.” Hildegarde shook her head. “I’ll send a pigeon- message to Mother and Father tomorrow-I’d just as soon not try to explain this to Mother over the telephone. But I believe the nunnery has some sort of noviciate period, during which women can change their minds. So it’s not hopeless yet. The real problem, Wizard, is that Celia is nearly as stubborn as I am.”

During dinner that evening all the conversation was about the miraculous restoration of the high street of Caelrhon. Celia said virtually nothing and only played with her food, but the Lady Maria was in her element. “It’s like something out of the old stories of the saints,” she said enthusiastically. “The holy man walks out of the wilderness into the city, and no one recognizes his power except the children, until at last a great miracle puts everyone in his debt and silences all doubters.”

“I saw it too,” said Princess Margareta. She seemed, at least for the moment, to have forgotten both Paul and Justinia and basked in her position as assistant bringer of wonder-stories. The chaplain expressed an interest in making an immediate pilgrimage to meet Cyrus, and several people said they would join him.

But I had other concerns. After dinner I drew the king aside. He had listened politely to Maria’s stories, but most of his attention was still given to Justinia. They had gone riding that afternoon-he on his red roan stallion, she on an old white mare-leaving before I realized their plans. I did not like the idea of them roaming the countryside without a wizard’s protection against whatever magical enemies might be pursuing Justinia.

But I was supposed to serve King Paul, not order him around. “Could you do me a favor, sire,” I asked diffidently, “and take me along if you give the Lady Justinia any more riding lessons?”

“So you think I need a chaperone, Wizard?” he said with an amused smile. He glanced across the hall to where the Lady Justinia was talking to the queen. The eastern lady this evening was wearing an iridescent blue silk dress that matched her eyelids and left her shoulders bare. The Princess Margareta stood a short distance away, trying to appear uninterested in their conversation. “Did my mother put you up to this?” Paul added.

“Of course not!” I said in irritation. “It’s none of my business who my king decides to marry! But it is my responsibility to protect both you and her from black magic.”

“I thought you and that wizard friend of yours had cleared up that problem,” said Paul, still looking amused. “Or should I ask you for the return of the Golden Yurt?” He laughed and slapped me on the back. “You can tell whoever is worrying about me that I’m not planning to marry the Lady Justinia. Of course she’s an attractive woman, but I’m merely trying to keep her entertained during what must be for her a rather tedious stay in a foreign land.”

While I was relieved to hear this, it crossed my mind that the mage Kaz-alrhun, in sending Justinia to Yurt, may have had some such plan of his own. He was always calculating how to make events redound to his advantage, and he may indeed have intended the king of Yurt to fall in love with the lady. In spite of his immense shrewdness, Kaz-alrhun had become convinced, due to a rather improbable series of events, that I was one of the Western Kingdoms’ greatest wizards, and it was possible that he hoped an alliance between his niece and my king would bind me to him.

Paul looked past me, smiled again, and ran a quick hand over his hair. I turned to see the Lady Justinia coming toward us. But she turned her almond-shaped eyes not toward the king but instead toward me.

“Come thou this eventide to my chambers, O Wizard,” she said in her melodious voice. She turned slightly as she spoke, addressing me over a naked shoulder. “’Twould seem the time is ripe for thee and me to hold conversation.”

“Of course,” I said. I should tell her that I was trying to get in contact with Xantium. Now that I had met Cyrus, perhaps it would be possible to find out if she knew anyone like him who might be involved in the plot against her. And perhaps I could persuade her, even if I could not persuade the king, that she really needed a wizard with her whenever she ventured outside the castle walls.

As we left the hall together, I glanced back to see Paul glaring after us. If he had not just told me he had no romantic interest in the Lady Justinia, I would have said he was jealous.

V

Justinia’s automaton had a fire blazing, even though I would have called the evening warm. She seated herself gracefully on the carpet by the hearth and motioned me to join her. I recalled as I lowered myself much less gracefully that this was a flying carpet, although at the moment it showed no sign of going anywhere.

“I’ve been trying to find a way to talk to the mages in Xantium,” I said. “But the City merchant I reached this morning assured me there are still no telephones in the East. He was rather huffy about it, feeling it was somehow the wizards’ fault. Now, I know that some of the eastern mages communicate through images in deep pools of water, so I was thinking that if I was able to telephone someone in the furthest east port where the western merchants have telephones, then I might-”

But she interrupted with a look of horror. “Thou must not attempt to contact anyone in Xantium! Any magic would be traced in a moment, and then my enemies would pursue me even unto Yurt!” Her automaton rose at the alarm in her voice and approached me in slow, silent menace.

“All I want to do is talk to Kaz-alrhun,” I said in surprise. “He already knows you’re here.”

“But he remains the only one.” She leaned toward me and gripped my hand. “Even my most trusted slaves did not learn my destination. Please, I beg thee in God’s name, do not play at chances with my life!”

“Well, I think I could find a way to call without it being traced,” I started to say, then trailed off. The automaton retreated again. Justinia leaned closer, still holding my hand, close enough that I was almost overwhelmed by her perfume.

“And I was also going to say,” I continued quickly, trying to keep from babbling, “that it may be dangerous for you to leave the castle without an escort. I know the king never takes any knights with him when he rides, but if I came with the two of you-”

Her red lips curved into a smile. “This is better. Let us speak no more of Xantium, where my enemies are and I am not. Let us speak of Yurt and of the king.”

“Well,” I said, feeling flustered and wishing she would release my hand, especially since her rings were starting to bite, “he doesn’t seem to think he needs any magical protection. But since I don’t want to play at chances with your life any more than you do, I would appreciate it if you would ask him yourself next time if I could accompany you.”

“Or perchance there may not be a next time,” she said, shifting on the carpet so that our knees touched. I