“Make a ghost? You mean, they kill someone, and then put his ghost in a spell?” Nora asked.
“Precisely,” Aruendiel said. “In this case, this ghost is probably bound to the carriage itself, to create that rather vulgar ornamentation.”
“My dear young lady,” Hirgus said, a dark wrinkle of annoyance appearing on the gleaming expanse of his forehead, “this was a matter of carrying out the emperor’s justice. The boy would have died in any event. And this way, his work lives after him.”
Nora frowned, weighing what to say next, reluctant to be overtly rude to a guest, although Aruendiel had set the bar high on that score. “Where I come from,” she said finally, “we have legends about vehicles that have ghosts attached to them. And it’s always very bad luck for the people who happen to ride in those vehicles.”
“This sort of spell is perfectly safe when done correctly. As I am sure you can attest, Lord Aruendiel—you must have killed often enough for the sake of a spell, when you were a wizard, before you discovered simple magic.”
“Often enough to find that unwilling spirits make for poor magic.”
“My carriage is sound enough, as the Lady Hirizjahkinis will tell you.”
“Hirgus, I can say that your fire demon is very well trained and does a fine job of keeping us warm, even in this abominable season. To be quite honest, I do not care a pinprick about these decorations you are so proud of. As though a fiery carriage does not attract enough attention!
“But as for ghosts—pff! If they can be useful, let them be useful.” She fingered the Kavareen’s vacant head and smiled.
The next day, Mr. Toristel was cautiously harnessing the giant black horses to the fiery carriage by the time Nora found another opportunity to speak to Hirizjahkinis alone. She found Hirizjahkinis finishing her breakfast in the great hall, dipping a piece of bread into broth in a desultory way.
“I wanted to tell you,” Nora said, “I’m sorry that things have gone badly between you and Aruendiel this visit.”
Hirizjahkinis waved a nonchalant hand in the air, although the corners of her mouth flexed with irritation. “Oh, Aruendiel has such a bad temper, sometimes he makes me lose mine, as well. But it will all be forgotten by both of us, eventually.
“It is ridiculous of him to be so angry at me for my visit to Ilissa,” she added, with a faintly malicious grin. “I am not more reckless than
“I know—he had an affair with Ilissa,” Nora said.
“How do you know about that?” Hirizjahkinis’s eyes were wide, prepared to be amused.
“Well, he told me. That is,” Nora corrected herself, “I guessed that, ah, something had happened between them, and he said that was right.”
“Yes, exactly,” Hirizjahkinis said, erupting with laughter. “They burned up the sheets together, he and Ilissa. He does not like to think of it now. He might have married her—but then he married that poor, foolish Lady Lusarniev instead.”
Nora shifted on her stool. “Hirizjahkinis,” she said, after trying to think of a polite way to say what she wanted to say, and not finding it, “he also said he killed his wife.”
Hirizjahkinis gave a quick, definite nod. “Yes, he did.”
“Well, what do
Hirizjahkinis’s eyes met Nora’s, quick and shrewd. “Ah! You think, ‘Aruendiel murdered his wife, perhaps he will murder me, and I am not quite as accomplished a magician as Hirizjahkinis—not yet—so I would be helpless to defend myself.’”
“I know it sounds silly.”
“Not so silly. Aruendiel is a very powerful magician with a bad temper, as we have seen. Are you afraid of him?”
“No,” Nora said immediately. “Not at all. I mean, I’ve gotten used to his temper now, and it’s not always pleasant, but I never feel threatened. Then I think perhaps I’m just naive. Maybe I
Hirizjahkinis thought for a moment, the lines around her mouth deepening, and then she shook her head. “I do not think you should fear him. He would never harm you, a woman living in his household—his pupil, yet. In fact, he would go to some trouble to protect you from harm, as he has done already.”
“Yes, but what about his wife? He didn’t protect her, quite the opposite.”
“Ah, that was a mistake, a series of mistakes. Poor Lady Lusarniev, she was not worth killing! He should have been happy that another man took her off his hands. But he was angry—at her, at the friend who had betrayed him. He does not like to be made a fool of.”
“Why do you say she was not worth killing?”
“Oh!” Hirizjahkinis smiled. “Well, there was nothing wrong with her. She was pretty, kind, very rich—and not stupid, either. But magicians should not marry, in my view. I told Aruendiel that, at the time, but he did not listen.”
“Tell me what happened.” When Hirizjahkinis hesitated, Nora added quickly: “It would make me feel better, to know the facts.”
“Well, to allay your fears, then! There is no sign of Hirgus yet, is there? And Aruendiel is still upstairs. I will try to make sure that he does not overhear us.
“Let me see, where to begin? This happened years ago, as you know. I was in Semr then, an exile—at home I was still sentenced to death—and I made my living by doing magic for whoever would hire me.
“Aruendiel had been away, on a long journey, exploring other worlds. And then he came back. He had gone away because of some unpleasantness at court—Queen Tulivie, I think you remember her?—but she was dead by then, and so was the king her husband, so it was safe for Aruendiel to return. He caused a great stir. People had assumed he was dead or lost. And he came back with a thousand wonderful tales from the worlds he had visited, some odd magical things—and gold, quite a bit of gold. He wanted to get married, you see.
“I remember how we sat up, one night after he returned, and Aruendiel told me all about the places that he had visited. But after he finished his stories, he said he was weary of travel and loneliness. ‘I’ve been roaming for more than a lifetime,’ he said. ‘It is time to root myself. I want to take a wife from among my own people, I want to go back to my ancestral lands and live the way my fathers lived.’
“The idea sounded absurd to me, and I said so. ‘You’re a magician,’ I said. ‘You would not be happy in the simple life of a country lord. The magic always comes first. You taught me that.’
“That made him a little angry. ‘I’m not going to give up magic,’ he said. ‘But there’s no reason why I can’t be a magician and still have the life that any other man would want to live.’ He was very serious, so I nodded and tried to imagine which of the pretty little girls who had come up to court to get married that year might become Aruendiel’s wife. It was not easy.”
“Ilissa was a distraction from this marriage plan of his. She and the Faitoren were new arrivals in the north country. They had come from no one knew where—a few at first, and then dozens of them. They settled then where they live now, far to the north, but in those days there were no restrictions on their travel, and Ilissa and the other Faitoren came quite often to Semr. I remember the sensation Ilissa caused at court. So beautiful, so charming—and so powerfully magical, even if she was not a trained magician. We did not know quite what to make of her. All the men in court fell in love with her, and the women were so busy trying to copy her, they did not seem to mind.
“After Aruendiel met Ilissa, I did not hear anything more from him about getting married.” Hirizjahkinis smiled broadly. “Ilissa set out to charm him, and she succeeded, of course! For several months, they were always in each other’s company. Part of the appeal, I am sure, was her skill in magic. She was his equal or better.
“Frankly, I was relieved. Another love affair—it seemed more suitable than those marriage plans of his. Although perhaps he intended to marry Ilissa. Or she intended to marry him. It would have been a brilliant