Pierce called back, then found his way down swiftly and joined them.
Leith, looking pale and harried, reached out, hugged him tightly with one arm,
then handed him his pants.
“Hurry,” he begged, “before she comes back. I’d rather face the kraken at
the bottom of the sea than that again.”
Val was looking askew at Pierce, astonished. “How on earth did you break that
spell?”
“I didn’t. Our mother found us.”
Leith stared at him. “That was Heloise?”
Pierce nodded, pulling on his shirt. “The sorceress made a mistake and let a
living animal into her spell. I told you,” he added to Val, “that you couldn
’t lie.”
“You were right.”
“What animal?” Leith asked.
“A rat. My mother has a habit of watching out for me. She uses just about
anything with eyes.” He paused, added with wonder, “I can’t believe she
came all the way down from Cape Mistbegotten for this.”
“She was the dragon,” Val reminded him.
“No. That was only her making. She probably borrowed some other local
creature for that illusion.”
“But she wasn’t the basilisk.”
“No. I was wrong about that.”
“We were all wrong,” Leith murmured. He gave Pierce his jacket and the
knife. “Where is she? Where did they both go?”
“Last I saw, they went flying down the beach. And I think you’re right,”
Pierce added uneasily. “We should get out of here before the sorceress comes
back.”
Val produced his cell. “I’ll call our driver.”
Leith, still looking unsettled, incredulous, said, “I can’t believe . . . I
had no idea she could— Did you have any idea she was that— Do you think she
knew that Val and I were in trouble? Or did she only do this for you?”
Pierce sighed. “Honestly? I don’t know. You should ask her that. You should
find her. You should talk.”
Leith, his gaze shifting toward the sea, said nothing; after a moment, he gave
a short nod.
They had walked halfway down the long drive from the sorceress’s house when
they saw the limo pull up at the end of it.
20
There were knights everywhere, suddenly, in Chimera Bay. Carrie, shopping for
Stillwater’s, saw them strolling down streets, eating lunch in the brew-pub,
getting their bikes and cars looked at in the local garages, roaming through
antique stores and the flea market, even appearing at weekend garage sales.
They were hunting, Carrie learned from Jayne and Bek, who paid attention to
lunchtime gossip. The knights were in pursuit of something inexplicable,
indescribable, that might resemble a mixing bowl, or a wine goblet, or a
flowerpot made of gold. They would know it when they saw it.
They didn’t stay long, overnight at the most, though it was hard to tell when
they all dressed alike. Chimera Bay, a serviceable wayside along the highway
between greater, more complex cities, presented a friendly and ingenuous face
to strangers passing through. No one would stay long to look for wonders
there. A few found Stillwater’s restaurant, though, busy as she was in the
kitchen, Carrie rarely knew until after who had eaten her cooking.
Some workdays were longer than others: when she cooked for lunch at Stillwater
’s, then dinner at the Kingfisher. She scarcely saw Zed on those days, much
less her father, who, after his amazing shape-changing dance in the moonlight,
had vanished again. She thought, after that vision, nothing else could
surprise her. But, on one of the long days, which started early when she
bought groceries for Stillwater’s before lunch, she walked in hauling bags
and found Sage Stillwater on a stool at the bar eating a sandwich.
Carrie nearly dropped the groceries.
“Is that tuna?” she asked incredulously, catching a whiff of it.
Sage nodded, making a little face. “Out of a can, even. Todd’s funny that
way. He gives me such ordinary food now and then. I have no idea why. Maybe he
just gets tired and runs out of ideas. And he is so hurt if I don’t eat it.”
She lifted the thick, graceless slabs of bread with the grayish ooze of tuna
salad between them, gazed at the concoction reluctantly, and forced herself to
take another bite. “Pickles,” she said, grimacing again after she swallowed.
“Mayonnaise from a jar. Celery. Onions.”
“Sounds like something on the Kingfisher menu,” Carrie said with disbelief.
“Capers.”
“Well, maybe not.” She noted the salad beside the sandwich plate: tomatoes
that looked exactly like themselves, undisguised red onion and pepper, a mass
of greens for all the world to see. “Does he eat that, too?”
“No,” Sage said, laughing. “Never. He wouldn’t be caught dead eating
anything less than beautiful.” She had another face-off with the unlovely
sandwich. “It hasn’t killed me yet, and it makes him happy.” She sighed,
and bit into it again.