The Thinking Woman's Guide to Real Magic

landed with a bump, cobblestones under their feet.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“We’re outside the main gate of Semr,” Aruendiel said. “I see from those torches that the gate is still open, so we will have no trouble entering the city, and yet we have arrived a little too late to wait upon His Majesty at this evening’s palace banquet. Our timing could not be improved upon.”

Nora stood up, clutching her bag. “Actually, I’m a little hungry.”

“Then a palace banquet is the last place you would want to be. No one can eat until the king is served or after he has stopped eating. We’ll do what the courtiers do and stop at the palace kitchens.” He clapped his hands, and the flying contraption collapsed into three rough branches lying on the cobblestones. Aruendiel kicked the wood to the side of the road. “I’ll travel home by different means,” he added.

Again, no mention of taking her back with him. “How?” she asked, but he had already turned toward the gate, moving quickly despite his limp.

The city gate had studded bronze doors, set in a limestone wall and topped with an enormous bas-relief that showed a strapping beast with two heads—a wolf’s and a lion’s—standing upright. It held a sword in one paw and a sheaf of grain in the other. Part of the majesty of the entrance was lost, however, because of the mass of shanties, built of wood and animal hide, that huddled at the base of the wall. The same pungent mix of smells that Nora had caught before was overpowering here, although now she could also discern notes of rotten vegetables and beer.

The soldiers at the gate were occupied with a group of farmers who had evidently come into the city earlier to sell their goods at market and now were leaving. Each had to present his cart or pack for inspection. It took some time. Aruendiel seemed grimly amused. “They stayed too late,” he said to Nora.

“Too late?”

“If they had left earlier, the gate would still have been manned by the first watch—which already took its cut this morning. Now the second watch wants its share.” Nora wondered whether she and Aruendiel would have to bribe their way into the city, too, but the sergeant obviously recognized the magician’s name. Waving them in, he dispatched a runner to notify the palace of their arrival.

The narrow streets of the city were still busy, although most of the small shops they passed were already boarded up for the night. There was no shortage of inns, one on almost every corner, spilling light and noise from their doors. In the streets were other late travelers; beggars, all with more than one limb missing—it took a lot to get sympathy here, Nora thought; drunkards; buskers playing drums or pipes; and small clusters of women and girls—some mere children—wearing low-cut dresses and purple ribbons in their hair. Nora saw instantly what the purple ribbons meant. Some of the women called out to Aruendiel as he passed. He nodded back with surprising graciousness, without breaking stride.

They had been walking for about ten minutes when a young man in red-and-gold livery came running up with a torch to light their way. After that, they made faster progress, as the other pedestrians gave them a clear path. Eventually, the streets sloped upward and the crowds thinned. The buildings uptown were larger, made of stone and brick, their tall windows gated with iron shutters.

“Take us into the palace by the side entrance, I pray you,” Aruendiel said to their guide.

“His Majesty still holds court in the main hall,” the young man objected.

“All the more reason for us to enter quietly.”

The torchbearer led them down several narrow streets to an arched gate guarded by soldiers in red-and- gold tunics. On the other side Aruendiel threaded his way expertly through a series of courtyards until they reached the kitchens, where a skinny boy in a dirty apron served them fish pastries and the palace chamberlain found them a few minutes later. He informed Aruendiel that, regrettably, His Majesty had just retired and would not be available for an interview until the following morning. Aruendiel took the news with equanimity and asked that they be shown to their rooms.

For the length of several corridors and two staircases, the chamberlain spoke fluently about the unusually warm weather the capital had been enjoying, the state of the palace lawns, and the prospects for the king’s annual ben tournament, an Ors word that Nora had not encountered, but which seemed to denote a game played on a grassy court, something like bowling. The chamberlain smiled at her at intervals, but his eyes constantly flicked back to Aruendiel, as though he were nervous about letting the magician out of his sight for an instant. Eventually they arrived at a large bedroom where a fire was already burning cozily in the fireplace. The chamberlain said something to Aruendiel that Nora couldn’t quite catch.

“Certainly not!” Aruendiel said, with a sideways glance at Nora. “Please find Mistress Nora lodgings elsewhere.” He swept into the bedroom and closed the door behind him.

The chamberlain led Nora up several more staircases, each narrower than the last. He seemed to have run out of comments about the ben tournament. The bedroom he brought her to was very small, almost completely filled by a large canopied bed. “You will be sharing the room with Lady Inristian, Countess of the Valley of the River of the White Boar and Chatelaine of Inris House.”

“I hope she doesn’t mind having me as a roommate,” Nora said.

“I am sure she will not mind sharing with such a charming young lady as yourself,” said the chamberlain. “The palace is so crowded at this time of year.” He bowed and disappeared.

Nora considered waiting up for Lady Inristian, to introduce herself, but she fell asleep almost as soon as she got into bed. She was awakened sometime later by voices in the room. Someone else slid into bed with her. Then, she noticed sleepily, another person.

Afraid that she was about to know more about her roommate’s romantic life than she wanted to know, Nora sat up and cleared her throat.

“Oh, for shame, Daisy, you’ve wakened our bedmate,” said the person next to Nora.

“Lady Inristian?” Nora asked. “My name is Nora. I’m so sorry—the chamberlain put me in your room. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“No, not at all,” said her neighbor in an accent that Nora had not heard before, a slushier version of Ors. “I hope that you do not mind that my maid sleeps with us. They did not have a proper bed for her, and besides, when one is in Semr, I always think that it is safer to sleep with a chaperone. The palace can be very busy at night, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh,” said Nora. “Well, no one will disturb you on my account.” The other women only giggled. It took some time for Nora to fall asleep again, but in the end she slept better than she would have expected. Lady Inristian wheezed, but very softly.

In the morning, Nora awoke before the others and dressed quietly. She glanced at the sleeping Lady Inristian and noticed that the pale skin of her otherwise pleasant face was lunar-rough with pockmarks. Either she’d had the worst case of acne ever, or they had smallpox here; Nora wondered somberly whether the magician could cure smallpox, if she happened to contract it. She went over to the bedroom’s small window and peered out.

There was a view over the palace gardens, which, as the chamberlain had remarked, were lush and green—the grass still fogged with dew. She was just letting her gaze wander over the curving paths and the lines of neatly trimmed beeches when her eye fell upon the slender figure of a woman dressed in white, walking by herself. The woman had her back turned, but there was something about her posture—defiantly, almost aggressively graceful—that made Nora catch her breath. How many women walked just that way, and had chestnut hair exactly that shade?

Lady Inristian was shaking her maid’s shoulder. “Daisy, get up and fetch a fresh chamber pot, I need to make water.” She called over a greeting to Nora.

“Oh—good morning,” Nora said, trying not to appear rattled. She glanced out the window again. The woman in white was just disappearing behind a hedge.

Daisy stumbled out of bed, yawning, and disappeared into the corridor. Lady Inristian began to chatter about last night’s banquet. She seemed to assume that Nora knew the people that she was talking about. Nora, trying to keep an eye on the garden in case the woman in white returned, made distracted sounds of agreement.

When she finally turned away from the window, Lady Inristian gave a little gasp. “You poor thing, that must have hurt!”

“What? Oh, that.” Nora raised her hand to her cheek. “It was just a scratch. From