Wrede, Patricia C - Mairelon 01 (8 page)

           
"I
think you had better come out now, Kim, and explain why you've been
eavesdropping on my conversation."

           
Kim
swallowed hard and pushed the curtain aside. Mairelon was standing in the
center of the wagon, watching her. His face was expressionless. Kim swallowed
again and said nothing.

           
"You
do
have some explanation, I trust?" Mairelon said.

           
"I
was just--it was an accident," Kim said lamely.

           
"I
see. You just happened to hide behind the curtain at exactly the time Lord
Shoreham was planning to arrive," Mairelon said with a cool politeness
that was worse than sarcasm and far worse than open anger.

           
"Yes!"
Kim said hotly. "You and Hunch didn't have
no
use
for me outside, so I came in here to look at that stage you got in back.
Which you got to get back of the curtain to do."

           
"The
timing was remarkably convenient."

           
"You
never said when that Shoreham cove was comin'," Kim said angrily. "So
how would I of known when to hide?
You ain't told me nothin',
neither one of you."

           
"Why
didn't you come out?"

           
"With the two of you talkin' about me?
And after that .
. ." Kim squirmed. "It wouldn't
of
looked
right."

           
"Wouldn't
have,
" Mairelon said, sounding as if his mind were on something
else. "No, I suppose not."

           
"How
did you know I was there?" Kim ventured. She had been half afraid Mairelon
would throw her out at once, but it seemed she had been wrong. He wouldn't be
correcting the way she spoke if he'd made up his mind to get rid of her.

           
"The
end of the curtain was hanging oddly; I noticed it when I was showing Shoreham
the bowl. Then I remembered seeing you come around this way and that you hadn't
come back.
Simple, really."

           
"So
why didn't you say something right then?"

           
Mairelon
looked uncomfortable. "I had my reasons."

           
"You
didn't want the
gentry
cove to know I was there!"
Kim said triumphantly.

           
"Shoreham
has a nasty temper at times. Besides, I prefer to deal with you myself."

           
"So
what are you goin' to do?"

           
"I
don't know." Mairelon studied her. Kim stared back, trying to gauge his
temper. He looked tired, and Kim was suddenly sorry she had added to his
worries, however inadvertently. She pushed the thought aside; she had worries
of her own.

           
"I
suppose I shall have to bring you along," Mairelon said at last.

           
"To Ranton Hill?"

           
"That
far at least. Afterward--well, we'll see how things go."

           
"What
if I ain't wishful to go?"

           
Mairelon's
eyes narrowed. "I beg your pardon?"

           
"I
said,
what if I ain't wishful to go with you?" Kim
repeated. She chose her next words carefully, aware that she might be
jeopardizing whatever fragile trust in her Mairelon still retained. "You
told me
you weren't doing nothin' the nabbing culls'd be . .
. lookin' out for
. But it didn't sound that way when you were talkin' to
the
gentry
cove."

           
"No,
I suppose it didn't," Mairelon said, and some of the tension went out of his
shoulders. He looked at Kim and shook his head. "I wish I knew whether
you--" He stopped short and snapped his fingers.
"Of
course!"

           
Kim
stared in surprise as Mairelon turned and pulled open the wagon door.
"Hunch!
Do you have any rosemary in that cache of herbs
you cart around all the time?"

           
Hunch's
response was muffled, but a moment later Kim heard Mairelon say, "Thank
you. Kim will be with me; don't disturb us for an hour or so. I'm going to need
to concentrate."

           
"Master
Richard!" Hunch's tone was horrified. "You ain't going to . . . You
wouldn't never
. . ."

           
"There
are days, Hunch, when you remind me forcibly of my excessively estimable
brother," Mairelon said in a tone of mild irritation. "Is it her
virtue or mine that you're worrying about?"

           
"You
ain't a-going to gammon me," Hunch said severely. "What are you up
to?"

           
"I'm
going to take that suggestion you made just before Shoreham arrived, if you
must know. I trust you don't expect me to do so outside the wagon, in full view
of the road?"

           
Hunch
snorted but did not answer. A moment later, Mairelon pulled his head and
shoulders back into the wagon and closed the door. His right hand held a small
packet, presumably the herbs he had gotten from Hunch. Kim eyed him warily.
"What're you goin' to do?"

           
"Reassure
myself," Mairelon said absently. He set the packet down on the counter,
then crossed to the chest and opened it. He muttered a word and made a quick
gesture with his left hand, hidden from Kim by his body. Then he withdrew the
velvet-swathed bundle that had been Kim's downfall. He set it carefully on the
counter and gently folded back the velvet.

           
Kim's
eyes went wide as she stared at the heavy silver bowl nested in the ripples of
black velvet. It was shallow and circular, like the soup bowls the gentry used,
but more than twice as large. The rim was at least two inches wide and carved
into intricate leaves, flowers, and vines. It shone softly in the lamplight.

           
Kim
looked at Mairelon. "Is that the silver bowl you and the
gentry
cove were on about?"

           
"The Saltash Bowl.
Yes." The magician opened a
cupboard and removed several small jars. He measured carefully as he added
portions of their contents to the bowl,
then
mixed
them with a long wooden rod. Kim noticed that he was careful not to touch any
part of the silver with his hands as he worked.

           
She
started to ask another question, but thought better of interrupting him. She
waited until he finished the mixing and laid aside the wooden rod. As he
reached for Hunch's packet, she said, "You ain't explained nothin' about
what you're doin'."

           
Mairelon
paused in mid-reach and looked at her. "No, I haven't, have I?" He
hesitated, studying her,
then
sighed. "I suppose
you have a right to know what to expect.
Very well, then.
One of the uses of the Saltash Bowl is to compel people to speak
truthfully."

           
"And
you're goin' to use it on me?" Kim asked cautiously. It was not a welcome
thought. There
were
any number of things she would
rather not be forced to discuss truthfully: the uses to which she had put her expertise
in lock picking, for instance. On the other hand, this was an opportunity to
observe real magic at close hand, and she wasn't about to pass it up without a
reason.
Assuming, of course, that she had a choice.

           
"Not exactly.
The magic of the Saltash Bowl can be used
only under very specific circumstances. More important, it can be used only
when the entire set is together."

           
"That
platter the
gentry
cove was talkin' about?"

           
"Among other things.
I cannot, therefore, use the bowl
to force you to be truthful. However, I believe I can cast a similar spell,
using the bowl as a focus, which will let me know whether or not you are
telling the truth."

           
"So
if I don't say nothin',
you can't tell what's true?"
Kim said. Mairelon's lips
tightened,
and she added
hastily, "I'm just tryin' to understand. You ain't got
no
business knowin' everything about me."

           
"A
reasonable objection," Mairelon said after a moment.
"Very
well.
The spell is just an indicator. If you don't say anything, it
won't have anything to work with, so it won't tell me anything."

           
Kim
nodded. She understood the unspoken implication well enough. Mairelon would be
able to tell a good deal by which questions she chose not to answer. "All
right, then," she said. "I'm ready. What do I have to do?"

           
"Just
stand there, for the time being." Mairelon turned back to the silver bowl.
He smoothed a wrinkle from the velvet on which it rested and laid a twist of
straw beside it, not touching the silver. Then he opened Hunch's packet and
sniffed at it. He nodded in satisfaction, but to Kim's surprise, he did not
dump it into the bowl with the rest of the herbs. Instead, he set it down and
reached for the lamp that hung beside the door. He adjusted the wick,
then
did something to the hook that held it. When he pulled
on it, the lamp came away from the wall on a long flexible arm.

           
Mairelon
positioned the lamp to hang a hand's breadth above the center of the silver
bowl. Then he looked at Kim. "If you have any other questions, ask them
now. From here on, any interruption could have . . . unpleasant
consequences."

           
"I
understand." Every street waif in
London
had heard whispers of the fate that came to anyone foolish enough to interrupt
a true wizard in the practice of his magic. Burning alive would be nothing to
it. Kim might have her doubts about some of the things she'd heard, but she
wasn't about to test them now.

           
Mairelon
gave her a searching look,
then
nodded. He turned back
to face the bowl and took a deep breath. The lamp above the bowl threw the
magician's shadow against the opposite wall, large and dark, and made a mask of
his face. Kim shivered,
then
froze as Mairelon began
to speak.

           
The
language was unfamiliar to Kim, but every word seemed to hang in the air, clear
and sharp as broken crystal. She could almost feel their edges, and she was
afraid to move and jostle their invisible presence. She understood, now, where
the saying had come from, "deadly as a wizard's words." She wondered
how there could be room in the wagon for the solid sounds Mairelon was speaking.

           
The
magician's hands moved suddenly, sliding with exquisite precision into a gap in
the growing lattice of invisible, razor-edged words. One hand seized the packet
of herbs Hunch had provided; the other lifted the twisted straw on the opposite
side of the bowl. The straw touched the lamp's wick and burst into flame.
Mairelon's voice rose to a shout, and herbs and burning straw dropped together
into the silver bowl.

           
Smoke
billowed out of the bowl, spreading a strong, sweet smell throughout the wagon.
The lamp went out with the suddenness of a snuffed candle, and the silver bowl
began to glow. Mairelon lowered his arms with a sigh and looked at Kim.
"What is your name?" he said.

           
Kim
hesitated. "Jenny Stower," she said deliberately.

           
The glow
of the silver bowl dimmed to an angry red point.
"Your
name?"
Mairelon repeated.
"And the truth,
this time."

           
"Kim."

           
The bowl
flashed into silver light once more. Kim stared at it, awed and frightened.
"Where did you first hear of me, and from whom?" Mairelon asked.

           
"At the Dog and Bull, the day afore I snuck into this wagon.
A skinny toff offered to pay me if I'd find out what you had in here." The
bowl remained silver, and Kim relaxed a little.

           
"What,
exactly, did he tell you?"

           
Kim
repeated the story she had told Mairelon at their first meeting. The bowl
glowed
a steady
silver throughout the tale. Mairelon
nodded when she finished, and made her repeat her reasons for eavesdropping on
his conversation with Shoreham. Kim did the best she could, but the bowl's
light faded slightly.

           
Mairelon
frowned. "And were those your only reasons?"

           
Kim
shifted uncomfortably.
"Mostly."

           
"You'll
have to do better than that," Mairelon said, watching her closely.

           
"All right!
I was curious."

           
The
silver light brightened. Mairelon's lips twitched. "Curious?"

           
"Why not?"
Kim said indignantly. "Anyone as
meets you can see you're a regular swell, and it queers me what your lay is.
Bilking the culls in the markets ain't work for a
gentry
cove, and you ain't told me nothin'. I got reason for wonderin'."

           
Mairelon
laughed. "I should have guessed. Well, I'll explain as soon as we're
finished here. You've enough of the pieces to get us all into difficulty by
accident if you aren't told the rest."