by Sandra Elsa
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The gold earned in Manaken dwindled to nothing. They started earning money in the towns they passed through by performing single shows and traveling on. Smaller villages such as these could ill afford to spend much gold or silver on entertainment. Often the payment was a night’s board at an inn or a few coppers and some vegetables.
It all worked as far as they were concerned. The villages were close enough, the travelers had no pressing need to buy large amounts of supplies.
Most people in their audiences believed they were the standard sleight of hand magicians. Wizards and witches were not common, and surely a true wizard or witch wouldn’t stoop to putting on magic shows to earn money. Like in Manaken, magickers occasionally approached them, only to be brushed off by Johann.
Pink’s part was usually quite small where true magic was concerned. She was having a difficult time learning to do even the simplest of things with her magic. An attempt to light a candle still resulted in a puddle of wax. Her skills with illusion were getting strong enough, Johann allowed her to cast what they used in the show. But even illusion was subject to her slightest, wandering, wisp of thought.
They stopped in the small village of Olger late one afternoon and performed at an inn. Johann did the standard routine of pulling brightly colored squares of cloth from a never-ending source up his sleeve. Pink took the stage and did some minor illusions making small harmless animals appear and disappear throughout the audience.
As she performed, Conall contacted her and sent her an image of the waterfall he would be sleeping by. The small audience gasped in surprise as the image of water cascaded down a wall and across the tavern floor. A fine mist filled the air and fat drops of water splashed walls beneath a shimmering rainbow. The torrent of water disappeared as illusion should but water droplets splashing on the wall let her know the trick had gone awry. Pink was unsure what had earned her Johann’s glare, since illusion is invisible to those casting it. The audience loved it. Johann and Pink made more than anticipated, from such a small village. Many of the audience recognized their local waterfall.
Johann and Pink packed their belongings and took to the road amidst brilliant fall colors. The prickle of being examined by second-sight made Pink‘s skin crawl. She looked at Johann, inviting the question but he had turned inwards.
Not until they set up camp that evening did he ask, “How did you do that?”
Pink shrugged. What was she supposed to tell him? A wolf sent me the image? Yeah, that was believable. She would have said it was something she remembered from her past, except she had heard some of the inn’s customers telling Johann it was a great replica of the falls above holder Bovan’s stead. “I don’t know. Sometimes things come to me.”
“Even ignoring how you knew of the falls. How did you bring true water? Most of that trick was illusion, or we’d have all drowned, but the mist, was beyond feeling real. There were still wet places on the walls when we left. I checked them for magic and found nothing but water. That simply is not possible.”
How to answer? Johann above all others should realize how little she was in control of her magic. Why ask her? After considering what she could possibly tell him she sat back and shrugged again. “I can’t explain.”
The day she thought of Conall in the middle of the show and he appeared mid stage, the audience was not so appreciative. It sent them running, when the wolf looked at them, shook his head and growled. Pink shut the illusion down realizing from the reaction of the crowd, Johann’s expression and the confusion from Conall, she was creating the image of the wolf and feeding it back to him. That was the day Johann reclaimed the task of doing illusions. Her largest participation then became the sleight of hand tricks she’d perfected long ago.
When finesse wasn’t needed she did fine with her magic. But, except for Healing, the most basic spells turned awry, and they weren’t about to do anything more than basic for these shows.
Angel often participated in the act. On the occasions when he refused to join, they would see him on the outskirts of the audience, watching a particular individual. At the end of the show, the person he was watching would usually be one of the last in the vicinity—hovering around the cap they would pass to collect donations.
Angel refused to join the show in the town of Collton and midway through the performance, Pink saw him standing in the rear of the crowd. It was easy to tell which person he was watching. A tall, lean, well-dressed man with dark hair, and a sanguine complexion, hovered on the fringes of the crowd, inclined against a tree. A quick scan told her he had no magic at all. He was not a magicker hoping for advice.
Unlike most of those Angel watched, when the show finished this man was the first to leave.
“Did you see Angel’s quarry?” Johann asked.
“Yes,” she replied. “Can’t say that I cared for the look of him. I think we should try to put some distance between us and this town by nightfall.” She turned and started packing without waiting for his response.
She was pleased when he helped her without argument. “I was planning to do a second show,” he said. “In a town this size we would be able to collect a fair amount this afternoon but I think you may be right. I don’t know what his story is, but that gentleman did not mean us well.”
When everything was packed, Pink tied the bundles firmly to Angel’s back.
They took the coppers they had earned to the market, purchased supplies, then continued on their way.
Four weeks since Manaken, and the villages and towns were getting larger and more frequent, as they approached Relante. Collton had been the first town Johann had planned to stay in for more than just a single show.
Farmers were out working the fields, but nobody shared the road with them. They watched the back road throughout the afternoon, no dust suggested anybody followed. Johann hoped to make the next village before dark.
Pink was dragging her feet.
“Come on girl,” Johann goaded her for the tenth time. “I would almost think you don’t want to be safely inside four walls when nightfall arrives.”
Pink shook her head. “I don’t. I’ve been on the road so long, I feel more secure in the open air. People tend to make me somewhat claustrophobic these days.” She cast another glance over her shoulder, down the roadway, into the darkening gloom. “I can’t help but wonder about that fellow in the town we just left. Did he somehow know we were performing true magic, or is he Garec’s friend?”
Pink searched for the comforting reassurance of Conall’s mind. “We took the long way around going north, east, and then south. Garec could easily have gotten word to his associates with a description of me by now. You don’t have the strength to constantly maintain an illusory disguise on me. And goodness knows I’d attract more attention than I want if I do my own illusions.” The wolf that had appeared on stage had cost them more than coppers. Her fragile self-confidence had broken. She wasn’t willing to rely on her own skills. “A merchant will have a lot of connections. I have started worrying about Garec ever since we started getting back into civilization.”
“A valid concern,” Johann mused.
Pink felt he was holding something back and her mind flew back to the Telgarn prisoner and his words. “I here-find you.” What had he meant by that? Was he simply looking for a Healer or was he searching specifically for her? Johann had never clarified beyond the statement about fairies what the man had said. But even that single statement had caused her some uneasiness. Lorn had named her Daughter Of The Wind.
Chapter 17