Stolen Magic

“Tell her what?”

 

 

“Yesterday morning, after six, soon after Marya left her bed, late into our watch, Johan went to the garderobe, as he often does before the end of a watch. He’s always very slow there. Everyone teases him, but I rarely do, because he suffers so. When he’d been gone a minute or two, I heard weeping from the next corridor, the most piteous weeping. I tried not to move but I had to look. Sir . . .”

 

IT held up a claw.

 

“Oh. Masteress, I had to see who was crying. The sound was so sad.”

 

The high brunka’s posture stiffened. She was certainly hearing this confession that the Replica had been left unguarded.

 

Ursa-bee continued. “I hurried. Then I didn’t find anyone, but the weeping went on and on.”

 

Mmm.

 

“I thought the sound came from one of the rooms. It wormed its way into my head until I couldn’t tell if it was in me or out of me, and I started crying, too. I opened door after door and found no one. Finally it died away.”

 

“And you returned to your post?”

 

“I waited a few minutes, hoping to find whoever it was.”

 

“Did you hear footsteps?”

 

“I couldn’t hear anything over the crying. When it stopped I heard none.”

 

“Mmm.”

 

“Johan and I got back at the same time.”

 

“Were you both coming from the same direction? Had he heard the weeping, too?”

 

“He said he hadn’t. I came from the east, he from the west.”

 

IT scratched ITs earhole. “You said all was well?”

 

“The Replica was still in its place. We made sure of that. If only it hadn’t been!” She twisted the edge of her cloak. “We would have discovered the theft immediately.”

 

“Describe where it was kept, if you please.”

 

Ursa-bee looked nervously at the high brunka, who nodded. “It’s in—it was in Marya’s chamber.” She went on to explain.

 

Very likely, IT thought, that the thief had been in the chamber, under the bed, behind a screen, somewhere! He or she had waited for the two foolish bees to leave and then made off with the prize. How remained to be discovered.

 

“Have you told anyone?”

 

“Only you.” She shrugged. “And now Marya.”

 

“Has Johan-bee?”

 

“I don’t know, but he doesn’t say much, and he has a toothache. The barber-surgeon changes the medicine every so often. He may have told her.”

 

“Have you ever held the Replica in your hand?”

 

“A few times, Masteress.”

 

“If you were the thief, could you conceal it on your person?”

 

“I’m not!”

 

IT stared at her with ITs flat, emerald gaze. “Could Johan-bee conceal it on his person?”

 

“If he held it under his cloak. But we don’t wear our cloaks when we guard. The corridor is too warm.”

 

Mmm. “After your watch, what did you do?”

 

“Ludda gave us pottage in the kitchen. Everyone else had already eaten. Then she asked us to help her dig up the last beets.” Ursa-bee giggled. “Johan went to the garderobe again before going out. We didn’t wait for him, but he joined us eventually. We harvested the beets and brought them in in two baskets. Afterward, I slept until afternoon.”

 

IT exhaled a long stream of white smoke. Progress had been made. “Send me another bee. Send me this Johan-bee.”

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 

 

 

A hunter picked up the wounded bird, who began to vibrate and grow. Frightened, the man let go and jumped away.

 

After a minute a naked ogre with a bloody shoulder faced the hunter. His Lordship blushed from his toes to his forehead. His shoulder hurt, but he wouldn’t die of a single arrow. He wouldn’t die of the man’s fear, either. “I’m Count Jonty Um.”

 

The man gaped.

 

“Of Two Castles. Your horse isn’t afraid of me.” He reached out and took the man’s bow. “I’ve come to warn people. The Rep—”

 

The hunter’s knees buckled, and he fainted.

 

“May I borrow your cloak?” His Lordship rolled the man over gently. Poor-quality wool, but it would have to do. “I’ll pay for the garment.” He tied the cloak around his waist. Then he cleaned his puncture wound with a handful of snow. The cold stung. His shoulder ached.

 

What to do? The arrow had dropped the swift. If he shifted back, he wouldn’t be able to fly.

 

Elodie and Meenore needed to know that a man called Dror had been as good as forced to become a bee, and that someone named Tuomo and his sons, and someone named Uwald, had left the mountain.

 

If he walked, the snow wouldn’t slow him greatly. The cold posed a greater danger. At best, he’d be several days getting back to the Oase. Fee fi! He was failing his friends.

 

He started down the mountain and stumbled out of weariness and pain. Before anything, he had to rest. He scanned the way below, but a forest blocked his view. Boulders dotted the slope above, as if a giant (much bigger than himself) had smashed a cliff and scattered the debris.