“This time, though”—Hirizjahkinis almost spat out the words, and Nora understood she was no longer talking about the old memory—“there was no wink. You looked at me and you turned away.”
“Ah.” Aruendiel’s eyes were hard.
“You disappeared in the crowd, and then the stones hit me.” Hirizjahkinis shook her head, emitting a small hiss of vexation. “On and on. All parts of my body. The lions smelled the blood, they began to roar. It was just— just as I had feared. Raclin enjoyed it very much, I am sure.
“And all the time he whispered in my ear that I could free myself if I untied the ropes—they were magic ropes, do you remember, Aruendiel? Only a magician could untie them.
“Raclin’s voice never stopped. ‘Save yourself, lift the spell. You know how. Lift the spell.’” She mimicked Raclin’s caressing bass with eerie accuracy, and involuntarily Nora hunched her shoulders.
“And if you had lifted the spell—” Nora said hesitantly.
“You would have lifted the barriers around the Faitoren realm,” Aruendiel finished.
“I think so.” Hirizjahkinis nodded.
“But you didn’t,” Nora said.
“No. I decided, enough of the Faitoren and their silly games!” There was a golden note of triumph in Hirizjahkinis’s voice now. Deliberately she stroked the leopard skin where it covered her upper arm. “I called my servant the Kavareen from where I had left him, outside Ilissa’s realm. He came at once—he gave Raclin a great scare—” Hirizjahkinis clawed the air with her fingers, bared her teeth, laughed. “And there was no more silliness about untying magical ropes.
“Then,” she added cheerfully, “I went to find Hirgus, who was engaged in a
“She was still negotiating for the removal of the magical barriers around her kingdom,” Hirgus said, blinking, his mouth pursed inside the tapestry of his beard. “Of course I could do nothing for her—”
“Of course,” said Aruendiel.
“And I am appalled to learn now how badly Madame Hirizjahkinis was treated in my absence. All of us may not always have the same interests,” Hirgus said, with a vague gesture, “but I like to think there is such a thing as professional courtesy among magic-workers. There is no question of dealing with the Faitoren in good faith after that.”
“Thank you, Hirgus. I am pleased that you and I feel the same way.” To Aruendiel, Hirizjahkinis said: “Well, we came away, and here we are.”
There was a pause. Aruendiel looked down at his bowl of oatmeal, almost untouched, but it seemed to Nora that he did not really see it. He raised his head again to address Hirizjahkinis. “And if you had not had the Kavareen, or if it had disobeyed you?”
“But I had the Kavareen,” Hirizjahkinis said, with the air of stating the obvious. “And it always obeys me.”
“All demons in the thrall of a human are ready to turn against their master,” Aruendiel said, looking at the Kavareen’s yellow eyes with dislike. “Even the ghost of a demon.”
“Then I would have to let my friend Aruendiel rescue me—again!—and I would hope you would not make me wait long,” Hirizjahkinis said with some severity. After a moment, she laughed and touched Aruendiel’s hand lightly. “Peace, I gave you some cause for fear, and I am sorry for it. But you see, I was not completely unprepared.
“And now—I saw Hirgus yawn just now, and I am fatigued myself. We must demand more of your hospitality, Aruendiel.”
Nora glanced at the window. The sun was up, finally.
Aruendiel obviously would have preferred to continue the discussion, but he could not ignore the reminder of his duties as a host. Hirizjahkinis was canny, Nora thought. He managed to assume a blander, more pacific demeanor and said something conventional about his roof, bread, and sword being at the service of his guests, then directed Nora to tell Mrs. Toristel to prepare their rooms.
Nora came back to catch the tail end of what Hirizjahkinis was saying.
“—No, I do not think it was wasted effort, not at all. I have passed an interesting night, sometimes pleasant, sometimes not—and now we know more about Ilissa’s plans.” Hirizjahkinis gave an emphatic nod.
“What do you mean, a night?” Aruendiel asked roughly. His newfound courtesy had evaporated again. “The letter I got from Lukl said you had been three days in Faitoren territory.”
“You are joking. Three days!” Hirizjahkinis drew back, and for a moment, panic looked out of her eyes. Then she recovered. “Ah, no wonder I was hungry! The Faitoren enchantments confounded my wits more than I knew.” She laughed.
“They do that,” said Nora, almost to herself, as she came up behind them. She doubted that anyone heard her. But Aruendiel glanced back, frowning, watchful behind the battered walls of his face.
As Aruendiel came up the stairs from his study, Hirizjahkinis looked up from the tarnished silver cup that she had been studying—Voen’s Chalice, in fact—and put it back on the shelf. “It is gracious of you to give Hirgus free rein with your library,” she said. “I do not recall your being so generous in the past. You have books that you never let
Aruendiel gave a quick, determined shudder, like a cat shedding water from its fur. “It is better than having to converse with him myself. And you need not feel slighted. Hirgus can read as much as he likes of certain books. There are others that he will never be able to open, and if he should succeed, one glance at the page would blind him forever.”
Hirizjahkinis laughed. “You are a considerate host!”
“He would do the same to me,” Aruendiel said. He seemed to take a certain amount of pleasure in the observation.
“I hope he would not be so rude to a guest. There are a few books in Hirgus’s collection that I am looking forward to reading myself when I am in Mirne Klep this winter.”
“Is that why you accepted his invitation to visit? I am still flabbergasted that you would willingly spend more than a few hours with that pompous fathead.”
“I have always liked Hirgus. It is not his fault that Ilissa’s magic almost swallowed him up. I think he is a very good-natured man. He says nothing of great interest, that is true, but nothing that is very disagreeable, either. And then I am so fond of his wife.”
“Oh, he has a wife.” Aruendiel’s tone indicated that no further explanation was needed.
“A lovely girl! Do not sound so disapproving. You also have enjoyed the company of pretty wives not your own. Hirgus is pleased that she will have a companion this winter. They have no children, and she is much younger than he—he fears that she suffers from boredom. Really, he is very lucky that I am available to distract her, so that she will not form a more perilous attachment.”
“Indeed.” Aruendiel picked up a green glass jar from the workbench, shook it gently, and guardedly uncorked it. A low moaning filled the room. Frowning, he recorked the bottle and returned it to its place, then turned to Hirizjahkinis. “You should be in that library, not Hirgus,” he said brusquely. “I want you to go through my notebooks on Faitoren magic while you’re here, and you must get the unmasking spell right. You bungled it with the Chalice, obviously.”
“Yes, yes, but it is not so easy to practice when there are no Faitoren around! And frankly, I have had enough of them for now.”
“I, too,” he said, lifting an eyebrow. He pulled a scroll from the shelf. “But you should not have to rely on the Kavareen to protect you from Faitoren magic.”
They had already had this discussion twice since the morning of her arrival, and neither had derived any particular satisfaction from the exercise. With a grimace, Hirizjahkinis turned back to the window. In the courtyard below, two small, cloaked figures were visible, Nora and Mrs. Toristel. The two seemed to be discussing Hirgus’s coach, which burned with a low flame near the castle wall.
Hirizjahkinis looked back at Aruendiel, bending over the scroll. “This little one Nora, she is very interested in magic,” she said casually.
Aruendiel grunted as he made a note on the parchment.
Hirizjahkinis pursued, in the same nonchalant tone: “So you have made her your pupil rather than your
