A Matter of Magic

by Patricia C. Wrede

  5

  It was near midnight when Kim arrived back at Mairelon’s wagon and rapped softly at the door. To her surprise, it swung open instantly. Mairelon stood just inside, dressed in evening clothes fine enough for gentry. His right eye seemed puffy, but showed no signs of discoloration. Kim looked more closely and saw streaks of stage makeup, all but invisible in the dim light. “It’s me,” she said to cover her sudden, irrational feeling of guilt.

  “Ah, Kim,” Mairelon said with no perceptible change in his worried expression. “I’m glad you’re back.”

  “Not so’s you’d notice,” Kim muttered as she entered the wagon. “I got rid of them flash togs, right enough.”

  “Good,” Mairelon said absently, still frowning at the door.

  Kim looked around for some hint as to the cause of Mairelon’s abstraction. She saw no sign of the droopy assistant, and on impulse asked, “Where’s Hunch?”

  Mairelon picked up a top hat from the grey tile that topped the row of cabinets by the door. “I was just going to find that out.”

  “You mean he’s run missing?”

  “I sent him on an . . . errand. He should have been back an hour ago.”

  Kim sighed. “It’s your lay. Where do we start lookin’?”

  “We don’t start anywhere. You’re going to stay here and keep an eye on things, in case he gets back before I do.”

  “I ain’t fond of sittin’ and waitin’,” Kim objected. “And if you’re that nattered about it, maybe you ought to take along some help.”

  “I’m afraid you’d be rather out of place where I’m—” Mairelon broke off in mid-sentence, and his head turned toward the door. A moment later it swung open and Hunch climbed into the wagon. He looked at Mairelon, and a disapproving frown settled over his face. Mairelon grinned like a schoolboy caught in a prank and tossed his top hat back onto the shelf.

  Hunch snorted. “You ain’t queering me none, Master Richard. You was a-going to go looking for me.”

  “It seemed like a good idea.”

  “You ’adn’t ought to of done it,” Hunch said severely.

  “Yes, well, I didn’t. What took so long?”

  Hunch looked at Mairelon sharply, but allowed himself to be drawn away from his scolding. “Couple of sharpers tried to follow me, and I ’ad to lose ’em afore I come back.”

  “What?” Mairelon looked up in the act of seating himself on top of the chest that had caused Kim so much trouble. “How many?”

  “Two as I noticed.”

  “Anyone we know?”

  Hunch shook his head. “I ’adn’t seen neither of ’em afore.”

  “Mmm-hm. I suppose they could have been some of Shoreham’s.”

  “That’s as may be,” Hunch said. He sounded both skeptical and disapproving. Mairelon looked up. Hunch gave a warning jerk of his head in Kim’s direction.

  “What? Oh, yes, of course,” Mairelon said. “Did you get what you went for?”

  “Aye.”

  “Well, let’s have it, man!”

  Hunch shot another look in Kim’s direction, then reached stiffly into one of his pockets. He pulled out a folded paper sealed with a great blob of crimson wax and handed it to Mairelon.

  Mairelon held it up to the light, edgewise. “The seal hasn’t been tampered—oh, Lord.”

  “What is it?” Hunch said anxiously.

  “Shoreham’s done it again,” Mairelon replied in annoyance. He turned slightly, so that his back was to Kim, and muttered something under his breath.

  There was a bright flash of blue-white light that left Kim’s eyes momentarily dazzled. When her sight cleared. Mairelon was squinting at a fine dust of ashes that drifted from the folded paper. “I do wish he’d stop using that Egyptian Light-Lock,” he complained. “I never manage to get my eyes shut in time.”

  Hunch grunted. Kim realized that he had turned his head away before Mairelon broke the seal, and so escaped the temporary blindness. She glared first at him and then at Mairelon. One of them might have warned her what to expect.

  Mairelon shook the letter open and began to read. A moment later he straightened with an exclamation. “Tomorrow!”

  “What’s that?” Hunch said.

  “Shoreham wants us to meet him tomorrow evening.” Mairelon looked up. “How long was this waiting?” he demanded, waving the note.

  “Since yesterday. Where’s ’e looking to be? Same place as last time?”

  “Yes.” Mairelon shook his head. “He’s in a rush again. Blast the man!”

  Hunch considered. “We’ll ’ave to leave early,” he said at last.

  “I know,” Mairelon said irritably.

  “What about ’er?” Hunch said, jerking his head in Kim’s direction.

  “What?” Mairelon looked up from rereading the note. “Oh. You wouldn’t mind leaving London a little earlier than we’d planned, would you?” he asked Kim.

  “No,” Kim said, remembering Dan Laverham and his unpleasant crew. She thought of mentioning them to Mairelon, but caution made her hold her tongue. If he knew about Dan, he might change his mind about letting Kim accompany him.

  “That’s settled, then,” Mairelon said. He folded the note and tucked it in an inner pocket, then picked up his top hat. “I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

  “You ain’t never just leaving without telling me where you’re off to!” Hunch sounded outraged.

  Mairelon looked back over his shoulder and smiled angelically at Hunch. “Exactly,” he said, and the door closed behind him.

  Hunch glared at the door. After a moment, he transferred the glare to Kim. “And what’s ’e want me to do with you?” he muttered.

  “I’ll just go doss under the wagon,” Kim offered, sidling toward the door. She wanted to think about what she’d overheard, and she wanted to get away from Hunch. She also wanted to retrieve the shillings she’d left in her hidey-hole; she might need them once she left London.

  “No, you ain’t,” Hunch said, leaning against the door. “’E may be willing to let you go jauntering about, but I ain’t ’aving you blabbing things all over London.”

  “What things?” Kim asked scornfully. “You ain’t told me nothin’, neither one of you.”

  “Hah.” Hunch squinted at her, and his mustache seemed to droop even more. “You ’eard enough to make trouble. And don’t gammon me you don’t know it, neither.”

  “Maybe.” Kim studied Hunch. She was rapidly acquiring a good deal of respect for him; despite his appearance, he was no fool. “But I ain’t no troublemaker.”

  “ ’Ow do I know that?”

  “You’ve had time enough to ask questions about me all round Hungerford,” Kim said shrewdly. “And if you ain’t done it, I don’t know a sharp from a Robin Redbreast.”

  Hunch did not reply. He also did not move away from the door.

  Kim heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Well, I ain’t goin’ to stand here arguin’ with you all night,” she said. “And I ain’t leavin’ London half asleep, neither. If you ain’t letting me out, I’ll doss here.”

  She sat down on the chest with more confidence than she felt, remembering her previous experience. No explosions or purple sparks followed, so she swung her feet up and stretched out on top of it. It wasn’t as comfortable as it might have been, but it wasn’t cold and there weren’t any rats looking to share it with her. It’d do.

  She grinned at Hunch’s fulminating expression and closed her eyes. He’d think she was shamming it, and he’d watch her closely to see that she had no chance to slip away. So she wouldn’t sham. There was no point in wasting however much time Mairelon planned to take, and no reason not to take full advantage of a warm, dry, safe place to rest. She grinned again at the thought of Hunch’s probable reaction, and let herself drop into sleep.

  The wagon door opened, and Kim came awake all at once. She gave an instant’s consideration to the possibility of pretending she was still asleep, in hopes of hearing something of interest, then rejecte
d the idea. She’d do better to let them know she was awake, as a sort of expression of good faith. It wouldn’t calm Hunch’s suspicions, but at least it wouldn’t raise any more of them. She opened her eyes and sat up.

  Mairelon had just entered the wagon. He carried a large parcel under one arm and there was a worried crease across his forehead; aside from that, he looked like one of the grand swells Kim had occasionally seen going into the Drury Lane theater. He glanced from Hunch’s dour face to hers. Kim grinned and stretched.

  The worried crease vanished and the corners of Mairelon’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “Wise of you to have gotten some sleep, Kim.”

  “I thought so,” Kim said smugly.

  Hunch snorted and rose stiffly to his feet. He had been sitting beside the door, Kim saw, presumably to block any attempt she might make to leave. “You’re late,” he said to Mairelon.

  “Not as late as I might have been.” The remaining traces of amusement disappeared from Mairelon’s expression. “Are you ready to leave?”

  “Now?” Kim said, startled. She glanced involuntarily at the tiny window in the top of the wagon’s door. There was no sign of an approaching dawn.

  “Now.”

  Hunch looked at Mairelon suspiciously. “There’s three hours yet afore morning,” he pointed out.

  “Yes. And we should be at least two hours gone by then,” Mairelon replied.

  Hunch and Kim were both staring at him. “What ’ave you gone and done now?” Hunch demanded at last.

  Mairelon’s lips set in a grim line. Carefully, he put his parcel down on top of the cupboards. After a moment, he looked up. “I haven’t ‘gone and done’ anything,” he said. “Unfortunately, Andrew isn’t likely to believe that.”

  “You never went off to Grosvenor Square!” Hunch gasped.

  “Give me credit for some sense,” Mairelon replied. “No, I met my esteemed brother outside Renée D’Auber’s.”

  Kim’s eyes widened. Everyone in London, from the Prince of Wales to the poorest mud-lark, knew of Mademoiselle Renée D’Auber. She was the only child of a French wizard who had fled his country during the Terror and an English Countess who had been generally considered to have married beneath her. Mademoiselle D’Auber had kept a foot in both worlds. She was welcomed by all but the most stiff-necked members of the haut ton. She kept a select salon attended by magicians, bluestockings, and intelligentsia, and she was rumored to be a dab hand at spell casting herself. There were also whispers that she was personally familiar with some of the less savory elements of London society. The upper classes considered her wild and not altogether respectable; the lower shook their heads in fascinated wonder at the strange ways of foreigners and gentry, and pronounced her too clever by half.

  “You ’adn’t ought to ’ave gone there,” Hunch told Mairelon almost fiercely.

  “Where else was I supposed to get willow root, black alder, vervain, and rue at this hour?” Mairelon retorted irritably.

  “You ain’t a-going to ’ave a chance to use them ’erbs much if word gets out you’re in London.”

  “Renée wouldn’t give me away. And how was I supposed to know Andrew would be there? He never used to like Renée. He shouldn’t even be in town yet; the Season doesn’t start for at least a month!” Mairelon ran a hand through his hair in a distracted manner.

  Hunch opened his mouth, then closed it again. Kim thought he looked more worried and upset than angry, and she filed that away in her mind for later consideration. At last Hunch said, “I’ll be getting the ’orses, then.”

  Kim glanced at Mairelon’s face, then looked away. “I’ll help,” she said quickly as Hunch rose.

  To her surprise, Hunch did not object. He simply looked at her and nodded. Kim blinked and followed him out of the wagon. They started toward the end of the market where horses could be stabled for a fee. As soon as they were well out of earshot of the wagon, Kim looked up and demanded, “What was that about?”

  “It ain’t your affair,” Hunch growled repressively.

  Kim was ready to argue, but Hunch’s forbidding expression made it clear that she would get no further information from him. She resolved to question Mairelon himself as soon as she could find a good opportunity. She looked up. Hunch was chewing on his mustache again. Kim snorted quietly and turned her attention to considering what little she had learned.

  Mairelon the Magician knew more than stage magic, that was plain enough. And she’d bet every farthing she was carrying that he was the “Merrill” that the skinny toff at the Dog and Bull was so anxious to find. Odds-on, Mairelon was gentry, too, or at least very well breeched. Ordinary market performers didn’t have brothers who owned houses in Grosvenor Square.

  Then there was the matter of the men who had tried to follow Hunch. He and Mairelon seemed to consider it more of a nuisance than a threat, which implied that they were used to dealing with such things. And Mairelon knew Renée D’Auber well enough to expect a welcome at her home.

  The whole thing had a havey-cavey look about it. Frowning, Kim considered piking off with her five pounds and leaving Hunch to explain her absence to Mairelon. The trouble was, she didn’t want to go. She liked Mairelon. Furthermore, she trusted him. Whatever it was that he was involved in, she was certain he hadn’t lied when he’d told her it wasn’t illegal.

  It might be dangerous, though. Kim’s frown deepened. She didn’t know anything about magic, but she’d been involved in smoky dealings before. Mairelon might be able to use her help. She blinked, surprised by the strength of her desire to go along with the magician, then pressed her lips together, determined to be objective. She shouldn’t be staying with a couple of culls on a queer lay without a good reason. She’d had more than her share of close calls already. Her luck wouldn’t last forever.

  For a moment, she wavered, then she remembered Dan Laverham. With a feeling of relief, Kim stopped trying to convince herself that she ought to abandon Mairelon. She had to get away from Dan Laverham, and that meant getting out of London. That was a good enough reason for anything! Besides, if she sherried off now, she’d never find out what was really going on. Kim grinned to herself and hurried to catch up with Hunch.

  6

  They were on their way out of London within the hour. Hunch drove from a tiny ledge on the front of the wagon, while Kim rode inside with Mairelon. She would rather have been outside with Hunch, despite his suspicions, for she disliked the closed-in feeling of the darkened wagon. Mairelon’s assurance that it was only until they were out of London, and her own thoughts of Dan Laverham, were all that stifled her objections. Kim was not anxious to be seen by anyone who might take word back to that slimy character, small though the chance might be.

  The jolting of the wagon made her queasy at first, but the feeling passed quickly. Mairelon watched her closely. “All right now?” he said after a time.

  “Right enough.” Kim peered at him. “You couldn’t do somethin’ to make a bit of light in here, could you?”

  Mairelon laughed. “I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to the dark. No wagoneer would keep a lamp lit while the wagon’s moving, not even on the best road in England.” The wagon jounced across a rut and Mairelon grimaced. “Which this manifestly is not.”

  Kim hadn’t been thinking of a lamp, but she let it pass. Mairelon’s point was clear enough: a lighted wagon would attract attention. She stared at the window with some disquiet. She had no idea where they were going, she realized, or even which direction. Well, they hadn’t crossed the river, so they weren’t headed south, but that still left a lot of possibilities. Suddenly she grinned. If she didn’t know where she was going, Laverham certainly wouldn’t!

  “Not going to sleep, I take it?” Mairelon said.

  The wagon hit a bump that nearly threw Kim off the chest. “Ain’t nobody could sleep through that,” she said scornfully when she was secure once more.

  “Sorry,” Mairelon said. “This wagon wasn’t built to be ridden in.”

 
“I never would of guessed,” Kim said sarcastically.

  Mairelon laughed again. “I suppose that it is a bit obvious. If you aren’t going to sleep, why don’t we start on your lessons?”

  “Lessons? You mean, reading and magic?”

  “Eventually, yes. But you can’t read if you can’t see, and the same thing applies to the kind of magic I’ll be teaching you. We’ll start on those later, after it gets light.”

  Kim frowned. “How much you plannin’ on teachin’ me?”

  “If you’re going to be of any real help with the show, there are a number of things you’ll need to know besides stage magic,” Mairelon said dryly.

  “What things?”

  “The way you talk, for one.” Mairelon looked at her and hurried on before she could reply. “You see, people expect a performer to sound like a Duchess. You don’t, of course, but I think that with a little training you could.”

  “Hunch don’t talk like a gentry cove,” Kim pointed out, nettled.

  “He doesn’t assist me on stage, either.”

  “Huh.” Kim considered. She hadn’t known any truly successful actresses, but she’d seen enough of the shows in Covent Gardens to know that what Mairelon said was true. On stage, at least, the better actresses aped the accents of nobility. The prospect of learning to do the same was not unappealing. “All right, then. What’s first?”

  Mairelon let out his breath as though he had been afraid she would think the suggestion insulting. “First, you stop using quite so much thieves’ cant,” he said briskly. “You’ll have to practice all the time, until it seems natural.”

  “Practice talkin’? Just to sound flash? I—” Kim stopped. “Oh. That’s what you meant, ain’t it?”

  “It’s exactly what I meant,” Mairelon said, and waited.

  “Mmmm.” This was going to be harder than she’d thought. “What else?”

  She could hear the smile in Mairelon’s voice as he went on with his instruction. There seemed to be an endless number of different things for Kim to remember to say, or not to say, or to say instead of something else. Mairelon was both patient and creative. He explained each of his directions carefully. He made up sample conversations and recited them in different styles, so that Kim could hear the difference between the speech of a London costermonger and that of a Sussex yeoman, a middle-class tradesman, or a north country Viscount. Then he had Kim imitate each of his voices, correcting her gently whenever she slipped.