A Circle of Celebrations: The Complete Edition (3 page)

BOOK: A Circle of Celebrations: The Complete Edition
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“What’s the matter? Why are you so afraid of gifts?”

She glanced at the page. “You can go, Bodin.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Massha beckoned to me.

“Come on in. I need a glass of wine. The lady has had a hard day.” The room had been redecorated since I had occupied it. It reflected Massha’s taste and comfort, with plenty of storage for her assorted magikal gear. She floated—Massha preferred to hover by means of a magikal bracelet than to walk, wherever possible—to a table set between a couple of big, overstuffed chairs. With a flick of her wrist, she made the diamond-cut carafe rise into the air and decant shimmering burgundy wine into a pair of colored goblets. Massha settled herself in the larger of the two seats. One of the glasses picked itself off the table and wafted toward me. “Bottoms up,” she said, hoisting her own drink.

Once the door closed behind me, I dropped my second disguise.

“Happy Affection Day,” I said, holding the bag of presents toward her.

Massha’s face paled.

“You—! You’re working for
him
?”

Her fingers trembled and faltered. Her wineglass dropped out of her hand. I dove forward, reaching out with a handful of magikal force to keep it from hitting the ground. Some of the wine splashed on my clothes, but to be honest, I think it improved them.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, handing her the glass. It was still about half full. I brushed at my front. “I know the outfit’s horrible, but it was Hugh’s idea.”

“Hugh?” Massha asked, weakly. She downed the wine and poured herself another. A little color returned to her broad face. “Hugh sent you? Not
him
?”

I hurried to sit down beside her.

“Of course he did. He’s worried about you. Now that I see you, I’m worried, too. What’s going on?”

“Oh, Boss!” she said, bursting into sobs. She buried her head on my shoulder and cried. Feeling helpless at the rain of tears pouring down my neck, I patted her arm.

“Wait a minute,” I said, sitting back as a thought struck me. “If you didn’t think Hugh sent me, who do you think did it? What is it you’re worried about? And why did the soldiers shoot at me when they saw me flying toward the castle? What’s going on?”

Massha sighed. She plumped back in her chair and threw her head against the pillow.

“You know I wasn’t a … spring chicken when you met me on Jahk, right?”

“Right,” I said. “I’m getting used to practically everyone I know having had a full life before I met them.”

She looked deeply into my eyes, as if trying to see if I was sparing her feelings. I wasn’t. I spoke the absolute truth. Almost everyone whose opinion I valued had lifetimes more experience than I did. Degrees of age, beauty, or physical impressiveness didn’t make much difference to me. After all, if beauty mattered, I wouldn’t have gone into partnership with a Pervect, who embodied more nightmare traits than most Klahds could handle without a flaming torch or a crossbow at hand. I hadn’t started out that way, but I had grown some wisdom in the past few years. I raised my eyebrows.

Massha smiled.

“You’re the greatest, Boss,” she said.

“Just tell me the whole story,” I said.

She shrugged her huge shoulders. “Not much to tell. I had some love affairs over the years. Most of them weren’t important. My track record wasn’t that great. But there was one guy, Shilldon. I fell hard for him. We learned magik together, which was great until it turned out I was a better magician than he was. He … wasn’t happy about that. I had a couple of good friends in those days. They didn’t like him, but I was absolutely crazy about him. I
worshipped
him. I thought we were meant to be together forever. So did he, or so he said.”

She paused and gazed toward the window. I noticed that the high, peaked casements had been shuttered and a board nailed across the heavy wooden blinds.

“What happened to him?”

“He … you don’t have to know the details,” she said. “I would rather not relive it. I was still in love with him, even though I knew I needed to get away. Those friends covered for me. I went to the far end of Jahk, where you met me. The team had an idea about my past. They said if Shilldon had ever shown up, they would beat the stuffing out of him if he laid a hand on me. Then, you took me on as your apprentice. That was the happiest day of my life until then. Up until I met Hugh.” Her hard expression softened into pink-cheeked tenderness. I would have melted into a puddle if any girl had ever aimed that sweet wistful face toward me.

“But you haven’t seen Shilldon in years,” I said. “What’s the problem?”

She floated up from her chair and sailed toward a small, black chest that was bound with bright copper bands. Through my inner eye, I saw that the metal shimmered with power. No one but Massha would have been able to touch it, let alone open it. She grabbed a handful of rolled parchments and brought them to me.

“He’s here! He’s been sending me messages. All the servants I asked say they didn’t bring them. They just turn up in my quarters or up here in the tower. It’s creeping me out.”

“They’re just letters,” I said. “Why do they scare you so much?”

“Shilldon and I swore eternal love to each other. That’s why I’ve been giving Hugh the cold shoulder about Affection Day. I’m afraid what would happen if someone hit me with a love arrow. And then you turned up with a bow. What can I do, Boss?”

I skimmed the scrolls. If I hadn’t known they were notes from a real person, I would have thought they were pages from the kind of steamy novel that Bunny liked to read during her off hours. “I can’t live without you!” “When you left me, my life was dreary, dark, over!” “Come back to me, so I can show you the true love that I know still burns within both our hearts!”

“Wow,” I said, handing them back. “Do you know where he is?”

Massha drew forth from her capacious bosom an amber crystal ball and held it on one meaty palm. It began to glow. Within, instead of a picture or mystic symbols, was a veil of cloud. Massha shook her head.

“He’s blocking me. That was one thing he could always do better than I could.”

I started to pace. The white bow hit me in the leg at every step.

“I don’t know. If a girl ran away from me, I’d assume she didn’t want to see me anymore.”

“That’s the difference between you and someone like Shilldon,” Massha said, watching me walk up and down. “You’d have let me go. It looks like he never gave up on getting me back. Once I was away from him, I saw how he had been keeping his thumb on me. I haven’t thought about him in years.”

“If that’s true, then why won’t you let me give you the gifts that Hugh sent you? I realize that the arrows are kind of barbaric.”

“They’re magikal,” Massha explained, drawing one from the quiver and examining it with an expert’s eye. “The legend is that they’ll guide you to your one true love. What if it’s not Hugh?” She shoved the arrow back into place.

I shook my head. “You’re the best and strongest couple I know. How could you even think he’s not your one true love?”

Massha crushed her hands together.

“But what if he’s not? I can’t tell you how I worshipped Shilldon. He’s charismatic and gorgeous. I couldn’t imagine my life without him—until the day that I could.”

“Did he ever shoot Affection Day arrows at you when you were with him?” I asked.

“No. Shilldon said it wasn’t necessary. He said we were fated to be together without little tricks.”

I smacked my fist into my other palm. “Maybe he was afraid to find out that you weren’t. Forgive me for saying it, because I am the last person you want to ask about relationships, but it sounds like you were fascinated and intimidated by him. Not in love.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. She dabbed at them with the edge of her filmy blue sleeve.

“Thanks, Boss.”

I toyed with the pink feathers.

“It sounds to me like the best thing you can do is let me use an arrow on you. Once you have it confirmed that your true love is Hugh, Shilldon will have to go away.”

She shook her head, wide-eyed.

“No. I can’t take that risk. What if the arrows say that Hugh’s not the one for me? I’d have to leave Klah. I couldn’t hurt him like that.”

“It would hurt him more if you went away. Let him fight for you. Let him take on this Shilldon.”

“No, way, Boss. He can’t fight a magician! That’s why … It’s killing me, Skeeve. I’ve got to end it. I just don’t know how.”

“Then, let me help,” I said. “Stay in here. Don’t let anyone else in.”

“How will I know it’s you?”

I grinned. “I’ll light a candle.”

O O O

Queen Hemlock of Possiltum looked me up and down with cool amusement. A woman in her early middle years with dark hair shot through with silver and possessed of an air that spoke of absolute authority, she sat, or rather, reclined, across the arms of her throne, with her gown hiked up to expose her legs. They were her best feature. At my request, she sent away all of her courtiers except for a handmaiden who filled the queen’s goblet with blood-red wine. She didn’t offer me any. I’d have been foolish to accept it if she had. We weren’t precisely friends, but we weren’t exactly enemies. At her side stood JR Grimble, Chancellor of the Exchequer and my former supervisor. He liked me even less than Hemlock did.

“You look stupid,” Hemlock told me.

“I know,” I said, with a shrug. “I am doing a favor for a couple of friends.”

“It’s a good thing few will recognize my former Court Magician,” she said, examining her nails. “To humiliate the office is to humiliate me. You’ve seen the inside of my dungeon, but I’ve added a few things since you were last in it. Would you like to test out some of the torture equipment? My jailors would love to try them on you.”

I waved a casual hand.

“I’ll skip the tour, your majesty. I’m just here to help Massha.”

That got her attention.

“In that getup? How?”

I glanced at the serving girl. “I’m reluctant to expose another magician’s secrets in front of … outsiders.”

“Enchant her as you please,” Hemlock said, with an offhand wave. The girl trembled and ducked her head. “Turn her into a statue. Just get on with it. I have an audience with a trade delegation shortly.”

I met the girl’s eyes.

“I won’t hurt you,” I said. “I’m just going to close off your ears for a few minutes.”

She nodded without saying a word. In my mind’s eye I saw the magik I sent her way packing a couple of big down pillows on either side of her head.

“Can you hear me?” I asked. Her wondering look told me she was puzzled as to where the sound had gone.

“Good,” Hemlock said, curtly. “Get on with it.”

I explained Massha’s situation. When I began to detail the story of the past love, Hemlock swung her legs around and set her fists on her knees.

“Where is the son-of-a-Deveel?” she demanded. “I’ll tear him to pieces. Show him to me!”

“I don’t know where he is,” I said. “He has to be in the castle grounds, if he’s been bringing her letters without anyone seeing him. She’s afraid for Hugh’s sake more than her own.”

“I wouldn’t expect less,” Hemlock said. “My Court Magician’s safety is vital to the safety of the kingdom. What do you want from me?”

“I want to draw him out,” I said. “Are you holding an Affection Day feast?”

“Are you kidding?” she countered, her face alive with scorn. “It’s a fake holiday so the merchants can make money. Even if my husband was still alive, I wouldn’t put the kingdom in debt for the sake of sentiment.”

“Is it worth it to keep your Court Magician and General of the Army happy?”

“Perhaps,” Hemlock said, narrowing an eye at me.

“No, Your Majesty,” Grimble said. He was a colorless bureaucrat who only elicited pleasure from an increasing bottom line and by thwarting anyone with imagination. “Such a feast would cost a significant amount of money. I can’t see any returns from such an outlay.” He glared at me. “Are you paying for it?”

I hesitated, long enough to make it look as though I was concerned about the cost.

“I’ll split it with you,” I said. I knew Aahz would take my hand off at the wrist if I paid for the whole celebration out of petty cash. I didn’t want to tell Grimble that M.Y.T.H., Inc. probably had more wealth stashed under the coffee table in our tent in the Bazaar than was in the treasury under the castle in which we stood. He’d twist the queen’s arm to make sure that I had to shoulder all expenses. “After all, this is in your interest as well as mine.”

Grimble and I stood eye to eye.

“You pay three-quarters.”

“Half,” I said. “I could drop my share to a flat nothing and walk away, but the outcome would probably involve your Court Magician leaving town. I’d welcome her back to M.Y.T.H., Inc. She
might
help you find a replacement before she went, but I doubt it.”

“Grimble!” Hemlock snarled.

“All right, half,” Grimble gritted through his teeth, as though I had just asked to cut out his internal organs. A herald, trumpet under his arm, marched in to announce her next visitors. “I want receipts!”

O O O

“Massha?”

I tapped on Massha’s door. Then, I recalled my own instructions. After years of practicing magik, I had developed an excellent visual memory. I pictured the inside of her study: the big easy chairs around the table with the wine carafe, the rank of chests that held her collection of magik items, the high work table covered with scrolls and small pieces of disassembled gizmos. In the middle of that was a tall, black iron candlestick with a fat white candle. I concentrated on it, willing the wick to kindle into flame. I breathed a wisp of power through the door.

There.

The door flew open. Her orange hair looking wilder than before, Massha grabbed my hand and dragged me inside. Aloft, she all but dragged me like the string of a rogue balloon across to the armchairs.

“Well?” she asked.

“Get dressed,” I said. “We’re going to a party.”

O O O

“This is a terrible idea,” Massha said. She had traded her harem pants and top for an embroidered brassiere and a long skirt of the floaty material in bright red. The skirt jingled around the waist and hem with dozens of little trinkets. Massha wore rings on every finger, bracelets and anklets and necklaces enough to sink a treasure ship, most of which gave off a hefty magikal buzz.

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