The Mage's Daughter 2: Book Two: Enlightenment

by LeRoy Clary

  “Like Brice’s hair,” Sara said, crossing the room and scooping a handful of his hair and holding it beside her face. “What do you think?”

  “Your face is blurred.”

  Sara scooped all the hair and placed it in an empty bowl. “We may find a use for that. We’ll save it.”

  “Candles, we need many of them for reading at night, and a lamp,” Prin said.

  Sara turned to Brice. “I think we should all sit outside where the air is fresh and talk about what we know about magic, and what we don’t, so we are all equal in our knowledge. At least, the generalities.”

  Brice said, “Then you two do all the talking, and I’ll listen because I don’t know anything. Until today, the mention of magic scared me.”

  Sara pulled the chair back to the doorway to the terrace. “You see, that’s the funny thing. I think you know more than you believe, maybe more than us. So, before we tell you what we know, I want to question you.”

  Prin rubbed her hands together in a gleeful manner, taking the sting from Sara’s words. “I think I’m going to like this.”

  Sara said, “Tell us your story. Start when you were young and when you first ran into trouble and ran away to become a sailor.”

  “Well, it didn’t happen like that, or not all at once. But small things happened and over time. Stories started to be spread.” Brice talked as he looked off into the distance and remembered. “At home, there was a boy who didn’t like me when we were growing up. I avoided him most of the time, but when he did catch me, he would beat me just because he was bigger and he enjoyed it.”

  At the long pause, Sara filled in, “Then one day, something different happened.”

  “When he swung, it was like his hand hit a wall. He wore a bandage, and after that, his fingers were twisted. He said I did it to him and people hardly talked to me.”

  “Your mind protected your body. Understandable. What else?”

  “There were a few other things, and stories got around, but nothing serious. But a little over a year ago, our family farm was drying up in a drought. I was worried, like everyone else, and one night I woke and there was rain. Our crops were saved.”

  Prin said, “That sounds like a good thing.”

  “It only rained on our farm.”

  Sara said, “I take it the other farmers were not happy with you?”

  “They decided I prevented the rain from falling on their farms so our crops would sell for more. They came in a crowd one night just after dark, carrying pitchforks and knives, and one brought a rope to hang me. They destroyed all we grew.”

  “You got away?” Prin asked.

  “I wanted to stay there and tell them I had nothing to do with any of that, but my father sent me away and told me to get to Dinsmore and beg for a job as a deckhand on any ship that would take me far away.”

  Sara said, “Skipping ahead, things happened on the ship?”

  “A few times, all of them things that helped the ship like a wind that helped us, but other ships were becalmed. The finger was pointed at me. They said I used magic.”

  “And they were probably right. I think that some people can almost see that fuzziness, or they have the impression from it. Maybe they feel it when around you.” Sara paused and then said, “We have to find out how to keep people from figuring out who you are, and that means you have to learn to control your powers, at least enough to shut them down.”

  “Do you know how to do that?” he asked.

  “No. But we have some books.” She took a pen and paper from her sea bag and began making a list. She used the notebooks she had been studying for more and finally handed it to him. Read each of these to me.”

  Brice hesitantly read them, stumbling on several, correcting himself a few times and asked for help on others. He was clearly a better reader than Prin, but not accomplished. After reading through the list once, she made him repeat it, and he got them all right. Sara slipped several coins into his hand and sent him to the market after offering advice on the items, and a stern warning to skip the effort if anyone watched him, or if he felt they were taking too much interest in him.

  He placed his hat on his head and left.

  Prin tasted the soup again, and agreed spices were needed especially more salt. She turned to Sara, who was reading a page she’d just marked. “Find something?”

  “I remembered a spell from reading this book on the ship. It has to do with hair. If they are searching for a blonde girl and one with black hair, or two without hair, we can change that. I think I can turn our hair brown, and we can let ours grow out, so we don’t look so strange.”

  “But spells weaken over time. Our hair will turn the natural color as it grows.”

  “All true. But nothing says we can’t repeat the spell.”

  Prin said, “When you cast a spell for a woman to make a man fall in love with her, it gets weaker over time, like the no-see-me spell Evelyn gave me. When that spell wears off, what happens?”

  “Well, you’re right. But the man never hated her, he just hadn’t looked at her in the same way. As for the woman, she always believes she can change him and turn him into what she wants, which is beyond any spell I’ve ever heard of.”

  They laughed at Sara’s comment, but when Prin considered her finger drawing heat from the rest of her hand, she wondered where the love was drawn from.

  Sara listened to the question and said, “If I know the man loves dogs or cherry pie, I pull some from there, so he likes dogs and cherry pie instead of loves it. The extra affection is given to the woman.”

  Prin said, “Do you ever question what you do?”

  “No. There have been times when I didn’t think a woman should love a particular man, and I either refused to make the potent, or lied and said I did. Why? I know you’re going to ask me that, next.”

  “Nope. I think I understand. At least I’m beginning to. Tell me about the hair spell.”

  “I have part of the things needed. One of the ingredients will be harder, because it is a hair, and neither of us has any, which is almost a bad joke. We want to color our hair, but cannot because we don’t have any of the colors we want.”

  “Eyebrows?”

  “That might work. Want to try it?” Sara asked.

  “Tonight?”

  “Now.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Sara gathered the materials she needed for the spell, including a spoonful of brown mud from plant container. She measured carefully and placed a pinch on Prin’s head, then repeated the process with her own head. She read from the notebook, slowly and carefully, making sure to say each word correctly.

  Prin waited, and nothing happened. She looked at Sara questioning her silently.

  Sara said, “Almost funny, but not. Our first spell together and I just realized we won’t know if it worked until our hair grows out.”

  Prin ran her hand over her bald head. “I feel the problem. If it worked, I didn’t feel anything like a spell. Those words you said, rhymed.”

  “They usually do. It makes it easier to remember the enchantment.”

  “Can I do one?” Prin asked. “I’m still not convinced of any of this.”

  “Let’s find a small spell you can do.”

  Sara thumbed through the notebook and paused. “Evelyn put a no-see-me spell on you?”

  “Well, sort of. What she did was give us a powder, and when I didn’t want people to look at me, I sprinkled it over my head. It wore off before the end of the day.”

  “That makes sense. I think I found the same or a similar spell. We just need to gather a few more things, all common enough.”

  “I like that. The spell lets people look past me, but what if we used less of it? Would it mean people would ignore us? Or maybe just not pay attention to us?”

  “Why would you want that?”

  “Well, if we went shopping and I wore the no-see-me spell, I couldn’t buy anything because the vendors couldn’t see me.” Prin shrugged as if that
explanation told all.

  Before Sara could respond, the door crashed open, and Brice entered, out of breath and scared. “I heard a man yelling and making threats at the rental place where the woman that rented this to us works, so I moved closer and listened.”

  His speech was broken by gasps for air. Sara motioned for Prin to wait before asking questions. He managed to draw a deeper breath. “Mrs. Lamont. A man wearing a green shirt was asking her about renting rooms to anyone with a girl.”

  Sara and Prin exchanged panicked looks.

  “Mrs. Lamont said she hadn’t. He punched her and called her a liar.”

  Prin darted to her sleeping room, and since she had only unpacked a few things, she threw the rest inside her bag and stuffed her hat on her head. As she raced into the main room again, she saw Sara was busy packing, Brice had gathered his things and wore his peaked hat, and the white and gray ship’s cat from the boat stood near the doorway as if waiting to leave.

  Cat? She looked again. It was the ship’s cat, but she hadn’t brought it, Brice didn’t know about it. Sara had rarely seen it since she worked in the galley and the cat stayed in the cargo holds to hunt vermin. Why is it here?

  She went to it, but the cat backed away, maintaining the same distance. Sara charged out, carrying her bag and heading right for the door. She called over her shoulder, “Come on, they can’t be far behind.”

  Prin and Brice raced after, their feet pounding on the stairs, although Prin had a fleeting thought that they didn’t know where they were going, then she corrected that. They were going away. That was enough for the moment. Where didn’t matter.

  Once on the street, Sara naturally turned away from the office where Mrs. Lamont rented her rooms. Prin followed and made a mental promise to send a nice little silver coin to Mrs. Lamont. Their relationship, or the one between her and Sara, hadn’t gotten off to a good start, and it would have been easy for her to tell the questioner where they were. To avoid attracting attention, they walked instead of ran. Sara turned right at the second cross street, which would take her in the direction of the market, but to one side.

  Prin asked, “What now?”

  Sara snorted in disgust. “How do I know? They must be watching everyone that rents rooms in the entire city. The seaman’s lodging will be watched, too. We need a hole to dive into.”

  They came to an intersection where they could see the harbor and the city spreading to the west. Prin said, “The Bos’n said there are farms that way. There were people selling apples and pears in the market, and they get ripe at the same time.”

  The three turned west, as Sara said, “Your mind is wandering.”

  “Maybe. But farmers need pickers for their crops. They hire a lot of people for the harvest, and at home, they provide small places to live while they work.”

  Brice said, now that he had caught his breath again, “That’s the same as where I live. Are we going to hire ourselves out to pick apples?”

  Prin said, “I’ll bet a lot of sailors do it to earn some extra money.”

  “What’s that?” Sara said, pulling to a stop.

  Prin glanced behind, where Sara was looking. “That’s our ship’s cat.”

  “I know that. What’s it doing here?”

  “Following us?” Prin asked.

  “Has it been here all along?” Sara asked, in return.

  “It showed up with Brice when he told us about the man yelling at Mrs. Lamont.”

  Sara sighed, “Never mind that, now. We have more problems. Maybe we can get a carriage to take us to the farmland.”

  “Carriage drivers tell tales, especially for silver,” Brice said.

  Prin agreed. “It’s not that far. Besides, we need to talk and plan.”

  Sara fell into step with them. “Well, our last plans were working out very nicely until Brice came back and ruined them.” Then she saw the hurt expression he wore and quickly said, “Of course, without his quick thinking we might be in custody right now.”

  Brice looked at Prin. “I think I have a right to know what you did that has everyone in Gallium looking for you.”

  “I was born.”

  “I’m serious,” he said.

  “Me, too. I was born, and that give me the position if that's the right word, or ranking, might be better. Because of who my mother and father were, I inherit a position that angers certain people because they want what I have. Does that make better sense?”

  “I guess so. They must really want it badly. Have you ever considered just giving it to them?”

  “It’s not a thing to give. It’s my life. If I’m alive, I’m a threat to some, sort of like you. A mage your age without training is dangerous. You’re too old to be trained as a mage and to learn to think like the other mages want you to, so they’ll be scared you’ll fight them. If they find you, they will kill you that day. Not the next.”

  Brice walked along with his eyes focused just beyond his toes, then he said, “Nobody ever told me that. What’s up with the cat?”

  “It’s from our ship,” Sara said.

  “I know that. But why is it following Prin?”

  Sara looked back, and the cat was still trailing behind them. “Prin?”

  “It watches her. It follows where she walks, not where you and I do.”

  “Cats have an excellent sense of smell,” Sara said. But, then she looked at it again and pulled to a sudden stop that nearly caused a collision. “Prin. Look at your cat, right around its eyes.”

  “Pink,” Prin said.

  Sara said, “Pink dots. Tiny, but unmistakable when you look closely. Maybe we should be following the cat instead of the other way around?”

  Brice had knelt and peered at the cat from a distance closer than either of the girls. He said, “I don’t see anything.”

  “That’s because you’re a mage,” Prin said easily, walking nearer the cat. It turned and started back the way they’d come. If they moved too close to it, the cat leaped ahead, if they slowed, it did, too. They hesitated to go in that direction, but instinct told them to trust the magic in the cat. After a few blocks, it turned onto a street they had never been on. Then another. It worked its way higher up the side of the hill until the harbor was so far below they could barely make out the individual ships.

  Brice said, “I’m tired. This cat may just be looking for a mate, you know.”

  The higher up the hill, the larger the buildings. Not taller, but more spread out. The streets remained narrow, but glimpses behind the houses revealed tall walls hiding trees and even sculptures. The few people they passed either wore the clothing of servants or the very wealthy.

  Brice said, “I keep thinking you sure have a lot of faith in a ship's cat.”

  Sara said, “Keep it down, Brice. I believe that we're almost there.”

  “Where? And how do you know?”

  Prin had seen it too. A single floating pinkish/purple dot floated directly at them, indicating it had originated ahead. Prin said, “Brice, please shut up for a few moments.”

  “I should be told what’s happening.”

  Sara said without rancor, “And you will. Just as soon as we know. But, seriously, shut up and do not speak again until dark.”

  Prin glanced up at the same time as Brice. Sara was right. The day was coming to an end. But another of the dots came floating into view, bobbing as it moved. Instead of bright pink, these had a purplish tint to them and somehow seemed stronger, more complicated. She angled to her left a few steps and touched the dot with her finger, and as it popped, she sniffed.

  Sara said, “Well?”

  “It was a combination, stronger and more mysterious if that’s possible.”

  Brice watched but said nothing.

  Sara allowed two more dots to float past her on the other side of the street, then one headed right at them. She poked it and sniffed. “I see what you mean.”

  The dots arrived more frequently until they reached a doorway. The dots emerged from inside, somehow
drifting through the wood as if it didn’t exist. Prin realized that was like Evelyn’s tree. None came through the walls, just the wood door. Prin noticed the wood held a slight ruddy tint, just like the wood in the tree. The cat sat on the step at their feet and licked itself.

  “This is it,” Sara said and rapped the door with her knuckles.

  “It?” Brice said to himself, but both heard him.

  The door opened. A woman with cheeks stained the same ruddy color as the wooden door stood before them. Her eyes went to the cat. She smiled. “Welcome. Come inside, please.”

  A teapot and four cups sat on a tray. A piece of fish was on a small plate on the floor, and the cat ran to it and began eating with what seemed like more noise than necessary. The room was spacious, with four sofas, several stuffed chairs covered in rich brocade, and a ceiling so high a ladder would be needed to dust the dark wood it was made of.

  Most of one wall was a fireplace, with compartments built in for tinder, cedar strips, and hardwood logs. A swing-arm held a black pot. The floors were bare rock, also reddish in color, and the walls were a matching shade of tan with a hint of red. Red doilies were displayed on the arms of the sofas to protect the rich fabric.

  But it was the woman who held their attention as she pointed to a place behind the door to deposit their baggage. She was short, not even as tall as Prin, who was either eleven or twelve, but maybe thirteen. She was wide, with shoulders that belonged to a man. Her face was wrinkled, her eyes bright, and her movements were as quick and sure as those of any child.

  Prin tried to guess her age and failed. That she was not young was evident. But neither was she old. She seemed worried, but also appeared to have expected them as she poured four cups of hot water and filled four silver tea-balls with dark leaves. She dipped them and passed the cups and saucers to each, before sitting on the facing sofa, the small tea table between them.

  Sara said, “You knew we were coming.”

  “The cat told me.”

  “That’s our cat,” Prin said. “It’s from our ship.”

  The woman sipped her tea and added a drop of milk before stirring it gently. “You may call me Maude. What you think you see, and what is the truth, is not always the same. Would anyone else like milk?”