Magic Under Stone

Ifra took from his pocket the last of the dried apples the fairies had sent him off with and put them in her hand. “There.”

She unwrapped the paper. “Apples? Can’t you conjure a feast or something?”

He shook his head. “Conjuring is only for the three wishes. I could manage an illusion, I suppose, so you think it’s something else.”

She gasped. “Could you make it chocolate cake?”

He frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that. How about… well, we don’t have a bowl, so it needs to be something firm. How about a steamed beef and onion dumpling?”

“Ugh. What about pie? Raspberry pie!”

“I’ve never had that either.”

“You’ve never had anything. Where do you come from?”

“A faraway land without chocolate.” He gave the sad lump of dried apples the appearance of a soft, warm beef dumpling. “Try that.”

She took a very tiny bite, and then a larger one. “Well… all right.”

He still was somewhat concerned about what to do with her. He could work his magic on her, like the horse, so she wouldn’t need rest or food or heat until he delivered her to Luka, but she wouldn’t like it, and even the northern fairy gate was a few days’ ride away, with Telmirra another week at best. If the weather held.

He spread his magic, sensing for those pockets of heat in the surrounding countryside that meant life. Much of the inhabited land was behind them now, in Cernan, but there was another town to the southwest, with scattered farms around it. The farms were preferable, he thought-less chance they’d have communication with Cernan.

“I’ll find us a place to sleep soon,” he told Violet.

She got quiet again. She smoothed a mitten over the books in her arms. “My father will get back and I’ll be gone.”

“When is he coming back?”

“Spring.”

“Maybe everything will be sorted out by then. You can send for him.”

She settled a little closer against him. “Ifra, you remembered me. When you went away. Do you remember… everything about when we met?”

“I remembered because you gave me your hair ribbon.”

“Well, I wanted you to remember me,” she said.

“I think I remember everything,” he said, teasing around the answer she wanted.

She took a quick breath. “They said you were dangerous, though Celestina hardly even saw you. I tried to tell Nimira it wasn’t your fault, but she pretty much just laughed at me. And Celestina acts like she knows everything and I don’t, but I don’t think she’s ever had a beau either.”

He could identify with her loneliness, but he found her naivete vaguely annoying. He’d had to work hard and grow up fast-or at least, try his best to grow up fast. Sometimes he felt like he’d done a poor job of it. “They were right, you know. I am dangerous. I don’t want to be, but that doesn’t change things. I don’t want to scare you, but… perhaps Celestina and your father had a point in keeping you isolated. The second King Luka found out about you, look what happened. And it could have easily been that Belin brought him a mean and nasty jinn, and that mean and nasty jinn would have a hold of you right now.”

“But I wouldn’t have given that jinn my hair ribbon.”

He sighed.

Not long after that, they reached the farmhouse he’d been aiming for. He knocked on the door, Violet huddled beside him. A dog started barking, then two dogs. In another moment, the door was open and the dogs were barking and jumping on Ifra and Violet while a man with a bushy mustache held up a lantern. “Hello! It’s much too cold to be outside! What are you two thinking? Come inside!” He had a merry, rolling accent.

Ifra hustled Violet in. Calm yourselves! he thought fiercely at the dogs. Thank goodness, they were eager to please and sat right down.

The man blinked at them. “Mercy. What happened to you boys?” The dogs looked up at him almost apologetically. “I’ve never seen them behave like that before.”

There was no time for introductions before an awful lot of children-six, at quick count-a wife, and a white- haired woman came down the stairs, and they were all very loud, with a lot of religious exclamations. “Saints alive, what’s all this?” “Heavens!” “God have mercy, who’d be out in this cold at this hour?” The younger half of the children just seemed to be screaming for the fun of it. The dogs started going again, running around the family, a wagging tail almost taking out the smallest boy.

“My name is Ifra, and this is Violet, and we’re-”

“Of course, of course! We’ll have none of that! Do you need something to eat? Of course you do! Ma, is the fire still going? Well, we should heat some tea!” The women and the oldest daughter, who might have been sixteen or seventeen, were fretting over Violet at the same time. “You must be half-frozen, child!” “Let me get your wraps!” “Come here, we’ll get you warmed up!”

Ifra had used a little magic to dampen their alarm and confusion at the sight of two mysterious strangers appearing at the door in the middle of the night, but this seemed excessive.

The family mostly asked and answered their own questions. “Where’d you come from?” the father asked.

“They must have come from town, Pa! I bet they got lost!” the eldest son answered.

“Happens sometimes, when the snow covers up the landmarks,” the old woman said. “Poor dears. Are you new in town?”

“They must be, I’ve never seen them before. Where are you from originally?”

“They’re obviously Roscardian. Are you brother and sister?”

“Sure, look at the family resemblance, Pa. It’s in the ears. People look at eyes and noses, but you can always tell by the ears, really. Look at us, we’ve all got the same ears.”

Ifra let them go on thinking whatever they wanted. The truth was quite a bit more complicated. His hands were shaking a little, as if his body knew it finally had a chance to rest.

A cup of tea was put before him, and then a slice of toast. And though he didn’t need the food, it tasted as good as any beef dumpling he could imagine.

Violet, usually so chatty herself, looked overwhelmed, and slightly irritated, by the noisy family. Her eyes went wide with horror when the sisters of the family said she could sleep with them.

“You don’t have a bedroom for guests?” she said.

“Mercy! You must be the banker’s daughter or something. Anyway, it’d be awfully cold,” the mother said.

Violet started coughing, looking quite cross. Two of the sisters hugged her, one on each side. “Don’t worry!” “It’ll be such fun!” “We have an extra nightgown Lissy’s grown out of!” Ifra knew he shouldn’t smile, but Violet had precisely the expression of a cat being dressed in doll clothes.

They hustled her upstairs.

“And you can sleep with the boys,” the father said.

“The boys” grinned at him. Ifra started to say surely he was too old-but no. Of course he wasn’t. This man still saw him as a boy.

“I prefer to be alone,” Ifra said. “I’ll sleep downstairs. If you have a blanket to spare…”

“It’s too drafty in the parlor! You’ll freeze. And we wouldn’t dream of asking a guest to sleep in the kitchen!” the mother said.

“I will not freeze,” Ifra said softly, meeting their eyes in turn, and a flicker of fear passed through them, as if they had finally noticed that he looked nothing like the people of Cernan.

The mother stood. “I’m sure we have a spare blanket somewhere.” The boys dispersed, rough-housing their way up the stairs. The old woman gathered the dishes. It got very quiet.

Ifra waited for them all to leave. He took off his coat and shoes and lay down on the rug before the unlit fireplace. The room was cluttered and a little shabby. It seemed like a wonderful place.

One of the dogs came from the kitchen to stand in the doorway-he heard its nails clicking on the wooden floor. It looked a little shy. He waved it over and the gray beast settled down beside him with a sigh. Ifra wondered if maybe he was the kind of person who preferred animals to people. Maybe he would ask Luka for ownership of his horse, and a few good dogs and cats, instead of a wife. Maybe some chickens as well.