happened, and it’s not my fault! I wasn’t even here, and that’s because the master ordered me not to be here. We should be glad this is something that can be fixed, that he wasn’t killed outright or turned into an ant and stepped on, or something. I’m doing what I can to fix it, but I’m just an apprentice, and I don’t know very much magic yet, and Guildmaster Chorizel was no help at all!”
Yara seemed to accept this outburst with equanimity; she did not shout back, but merely said calmly, “I know spells can go wrong. This certainly isn’t the first time Thani’s had something bad happen. I’m not blaming you.”
“I’m sorry, Mistress,” Kilisha said.
“It’s just that this is the first time a spell’s gone wrong and Thani hasn’t been here to fix it himself,” Yara explained. “It worries me.”
“I understand,” Kilisha said, remembering what she had heard about a previous incident, one that had occurred when Ithanalin’s first apprentice, Istram, had been nearing journeyman status, when Lirrin had been a baby and Pirra not yet born.
That mishap was why Yara did not allow her husband to cook. Until then Ithanalin had been very fond of cookery, and had reportedly been quite good at it-but after he accidentally got something magical into the gravy and turned his children into tree squids and his apprentice into a platypus, Yara had forbidden him to ever prepare food again. Ithanalin had turned them back without undue difficulty-perhaps, Kilisha thought, by using Javan’s Restorative, just as she intended to do, though no one had ever told her the specifics. Still, Yara had pointed out that Ithanalin had had a fork in his hand and a bite of gravy-soaked meat halfway to his mouth when the first transformation took place, and if he’d been a few seconds quicker in eating he would have been changed, as well. That would have made it all much worse. A squid or a platypus couldn’t have reversed the spell.
And this time it was worse. Instead of two tree squids and a platypus all right there in their own kitchen there were half a dozen pieces of animated furniture scattered around the city, and instead of an experienced master wizard ready to undo the spell there was a mere apprentice.
“You talked to Chorizel?” Yara asked.
“Yesterday.”
Yara considered this for several seconds, then asked, “Did you talk to Kaligir?”
“No,” Kilisha said, startled that Yara knew the name Chorizel had mentioned. “Who is Kaligir?”
“He’s the senior Guildmaster for the entire city,” Yara said. “Didn’t Thani ever tell you that?”
Kilisha hesitated, trying to remember whether Ithanalin had ever told her this. It was rather annoying that Yara, who was not a wizard, often knew Guild secrets that Kilisha did not-but then, Yara was a wizard’s wife, and the Guild didn’t expect wizards to marry fools. Naturally, Yara would have picked up a few things over the years, and would have the sense not to mention them to outsiders.
It occurred to Kilisha to wonder whether wizards who did marry fools had to enchant their spouses to keep secrets. She hoped she would never have to do anything like that.
And she glanced sideways at her mistress, wondering whether Ithanalin might have enchanted Yara. Perhaps Javan’s Geas?
Whether he had or not was irrelevant at the moment, though.
“I don’t think he said anything about Kaligir,” Kilisha said. “He told me Chorizel was our Guildmaster.”
“He is. But Kaligir is the next level up, if Chorizel isn’t helpful.”
“Chorizel was going to talk to Kaligir about something. And someone named Telurinon was involved.”
Yara stopped chopping, and carefully put the knife aside, out of Pirra’s reach. Then she looked at Kilisha.
“Do you know who Telurinon is?”
“No,” Kilisha admitted.
“Do you know what they were talking about?”
“About a usurper who’s been killing wizards in Ethshar of the Sands.”
“No wonder they’re busy,” Yara said. She glanced at the workshop door. “Do you think this assassin might be responsible for what happened to Thani?”
“No,” Kilisha said. “He tripped over a spriggan while he was working a spell, that’s all.”
“Then the Guild won’t help us. At least, not until this person in Ethshar of the Sands has been dealt with.”
“I know,” Kilisha said. “I asked yesterday.”
“Then how do I lure the rug, again? And what can I do about the other furniture?”
“Just walk around the city and let your voice be heard,” Kilisha said.
“Do I need to call to it? I’d feel foolish calling, ’Here, Rug, come home now!’ ”
“No, you don’t need to say anything in particular; it just needs to hear your voice.”
“And the other furniture?”
“Let’s get the rug first.”
Yara nodded. Then she turned to Pirra.
“After breakfast,” she said, “we’re going to take a walk down to Norcross Market, and I want you to do something special. I want you to run away from me, as if you were a bad little girl who didn’t know any better. I’ll shout at you, and then you come running back. Can you do that?”
“Yes, Mama,” Pirra said, puzzled.
“It’s part of the magic Kilisha’s doing to help your father. I need to have something to shout at. I may sound like I’m mad when I do it, but FU just be pretending. All right?”
“All right,” Pirra said.
“And we may go some other places, too,” Yara said.
“I found the spoon and bowl on Cross Avenue, and the coat-rack in an alley between Wizard Street and the East Road,” Kilisha offered helpfully.
“We’ll take Cross Avenue down to Norcross, then. Eat up, children.”
“Can I shout for the rug, too?” Telleth asked.
“No,” Yara said, “you didn’t drink the potion last night. But you can keep an eye out for all the missing furniture.”
Telleth smiled, and Lirrin said, “Me, too!”
“You, too,” Yara agreed. Then she looked at Kilisha. “Will you be coming, or do you have more magic to work?”
“Magic,” Kilisha said hastily.
Actually, she had no idea what she intended to do, but accompanying Yara and the children to the market did not appeal to her. Surely there was something more useful she could be doing!
She had the feeling there was something she had intended to do, but she could not think what it was. The three Adaptable Potions needed to be completed, but she could not do that until evening, a full day after she began them. Hunting furniture through the streets at random didn’t seem like a useful idea.
If the love spell succeeded in luring the rug home, then perhaps she could use it again on the others, if she could find splinters or threads or flakes of varnish from the other pieces-but she wasn’t going to waste time working on that until she saw whether or not it worked on the rug.
Perhaps she could practice Javan’s Restorative. After all, it was a fairly difficult spell that she had never before attempted; trying it for the first time with her master’s life in the balance was not exactly prudent.
That, she decided, was an excellent idea.
“I’m going to practice the spell that will restore the master, once we have all the furniture back,” she said. “I want to be sure I know it.”
“Oh,” Yara said. “That’s very sensible. Pirra, don’t put the ham in your nose, put it in your mouth.”
“In fact, I think I’ll start now,” Kilisha said hastily.
“You haven’t eaten.”
“I’ll eat later.”
“Pirra!”
Kilisha escaped to the workshop.
At first she was pleased to be back in the familiar room, but then she noticed the crouching shape of Ithanalin. He seemed to be glaring at her.
