Stolen Magic

But the high brunka seemed far from waking. Mistress Sirka had to hold her mouth open to dribble in a thin stream of broth. “There you go. Isn’t that good?”

 

 

“Johan-bee, what will he accomplish that I can’t?” Master Tuomo’s gruff voice was pleading. “He doesn’t have sons on the mountain.”

 

“Just Master Uwald.”

 

“Because he was kind to you? I never teased you, did I?”

 

Johan-bee didn’t answer.

 

The steward turned to his master. “What will you do when you leave, Uwald?”

 

“First I’ll go to Brunka Keld and—”

 

“He’ll be helping on Zertrum.”

 

Keld was the brunka on Svye Mountain, just to the south of Zertrum.

 

“You’re right.”

 

Elodie felt one of ITs Mmms bubble up. Master Uwald hadn’t thought out what he’d do when he left here?

 

He went on. “I’ll stop at the first cottage and tell them to go to Poldie.”

 

Poldie was the brunka on Bisselberg, the mountain Elodie and her friends had passed on their way north.

 

“He’ll come with bees who can search outside here and bring food. Then—”

 

“High Brunka Marya already has bees looking outside,” Elodie broke in. “She said so. They’re also taking care of the dog who came with us.” You don’t have to go for that reason, she thought.

 

Master Uwald said, “Oh?” and blinked. After a pause—for a moment too long—he added, “Excellent news.”

 

Mmm.

 

But Master Uwald couldn’t be the thief. He owned Nockess Farm on Zertrum.

 

“Not excellent news for the thieves.” Mistress Sirka sounded amused.

 

What if the outside bees had found it, Elodie thought, and run off with it? Even bees might be tempted.

 

“Never mind,” Master Uwald said. “Poldie will bring more bees to help inside and out. Tuomo, I’ll go to Zertrum and see how bad it is at the farm. When I find your boys, I’ll send them here.”

 

“Just send one. As soon as the mountain dies down, the others can get to work. But Johan-bee, I’m better suited to the task than Uwald.”

 

“Only Master Uwald.” Johan-bee stepped away from the door.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER FIFTY

 

 

 

Beating ITs wings frantically, IT managed to do what had to be done: keep ITs cargo on ITs back; not plummet; and gain altitude, although Master Erick felt as heavy as a boulder. When ITs flight steadied, IT flapped wearily south. Night had fallen—a charcoal, cloudy night. IT smelled more snow on the way.

 

Goodman Hame was silent except for an occasional groan, but Master Erick complained with every breath: The air was foul. ITs flight was uneven. He had a delicate stomach. His bottom was too hot, his head too cold.

 

IT was astonished he’d voice discontent to his bearer, who had only to tip a wing to drop him—which grew more tempting by the moment.

 

“Where are you taking us?” Master Erick demanded.

 

To the closest haven I can find in the dark, IT thought. But IT saved ITs breath and didn’t answer.

 

Master Erick said he’d always heard dragons were rude.

 

Goodman Hame said, “There are caves on Svye.”

 

“Nearby?” IT asked.

 

“Yes. I’ve been there. Fly low, along the river.”

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

 

 

 

His Lordship couldn’t judge time here. After a half hour or an hour or ten minutes, the cries ahead became more distinct, a man’s voice and a woman’s, grunts and a few words: “Here.” “Push.” “I’m trying.”

 

He saw a mound of stones with a few wooden posts protruding—a collapsed cottage. How could anyone be alive under there?

 

In a frenzy, His Lordship burrowed in, his hands like shovels, heaving rubble behind him.

 

Lower on the mountain, a gash—a chasm too broad for His Lordship to leap across—opened in the earth.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

 

 

 

Master Uwald transferred both satchels to one hand and lifted a torch from a sconce beside the door.

 

“Wait!” Elodie cried.

 

Courteous as ever, he said, “What is it, young Mistress Elodie?”

 

“Er . . . travel is hazardous at night. Why not wait until morning?” When High Brunka Marya may have awakened and can stop you. “You won’t get to Zertrum in time anyway.”

 

“No, but I’ll reach a cottager who can start for Bisselberg. Johan-bee, please.”

 

Johan-bee pulled open the heavy door.

 

“Tuomo, watch over my boy. There’s danger here. Don’t let him be hurt.”

 

“I won’t.”

 

Elodie sent Master Robbie an imploring look.

 

“Mast—um . . . Grand . . .”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I don’t want you to leave me.” Master Robbie, apparently a mansioner, too, twisted his mourning beads.

 

Master Uwald’s smile melted. “Oh, my boy, my boy.” He returned the torch to its holder, went to Master Robbie, and hugged him to his chest.

 

After a pause, Master Robbie’s arms circled Master Uwald’s waist.

 

Johan-bee stood awkwardly with the door open. The cold night air rolled in.

 

Ludda-bee entered from the kitchen, ringing her bell. After a minute she held the clapper to announce, “I made a light repast. I expect it to be eaten.” She put her bell on the floor. “How is Marya?”