Wrede, Patricia C - Mairelon 02 (24 page)

           
Under
other circumstances, the activity would have been fascinating, for Kim had not
previously seen a major ritual spellcasting requiring several wizards. All of
the participants, however, were too occupied with learning the parts required
of them, and with making certain that every aspect of the spell was precise to
a fault, to explain anything to Kim. Nor could she bring herself to distract
any of them with questions--not when Mairelon's magic depended on their getting
everything exactly right.

           
So she
ran whatever mysterious errands anyone thought to ask of her, supplied the
wizards in the ballroom with new grapes, sour wine, and powdered pearls on
request, and concealed her fears as best she could. Lord Kerring and Lord
Shoreham turned up shortly after the preparations had begun and went instantly
to join the others, leaving only the duchesse still unaccounted-for.

           
Mrs. Lowe
was somewhat disturbed to learn that callers other than the participating wizards
were to be denied, but after expressing her opinion of the imprudence of such a
move and of the folly of suddenly determining to perform a major spellcasting
at the height of the Season, she retired to her rooms and did not reappear.
Consequently, it was Kim, waiting impatiently in the drawing room for the
duchesse to arrive, who heard the commotion from the front hall. Slightly
puzzled, she hurried out into the hallway and down the stairs.

           
"Don't
go gammoning me!" a young voice said belligerently as she made her way
downward. "I come for the frogmaker. I got a message, and I ain't givin'
it to
nobody
else. So you just hop to it and tell him
so, see?"

           
"Mr.
Merrill is not at home to callers," the butler said with the air of
someone repeating
himself
.

           
"That's
nothing to me," the belligerent young voice said. "I got a message
for that Kim, and I'll see him straight and no bobbery."

           
"I'm
Kim," said Kim, coming around the last turn. "What do you--
Matt!
"

           
The
dark-haired youth who had somehow insinuated his way into the front hall turned
and gaped at
her.
"Garn!" he said after a
moment. "I knew you
was
a frogmaker, but--"
His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard and shook his head. "Well,
I'm scunnered, that's all," he announced.

           
"You
said you have a message for me?" Kim said sedately, imitating as best she
could Lady Wendall's calm, matter-of-fact responses to startling announcements
and events. Tom Correy's nephew could think what he liked; she owed him no
explanations. Tom would be another matter.

           
"Tom
needs to see you, right away," Matt said, confirming her misgivings. Well,
she'd known she was going to have to face Tom sooner or later and tell him the
truth about her sex; she just hadn't expected it to be this soon.

           
"Tell
him I'll come by this evening," she said. They'd have finished reworking
the spell on Mairelon by then, and they'd know the results.
One
way, or another.

           
"No,"
Matt said with considerable force.
"Right now!
You got to come back with me."

           
Kim
frowned. "Something's happened?"

           
"Yes--no--You
just got to come," Matt said desperately. "Tom'll explain."

           
"Oh?"
Kim's eyes narrowed. Matt was Jack Stower's nephew, as well as Tom Correy's.
But Jack was safe in Shoreham's hands, and had been since yesterday morning.
Still. . . . "How do I know Tom sent you?"

           
"He
said to tell you to mind when the rattling cove took you for a mumper, and the
old fussock rang a peal over him to get you off."

           
Kim
nodded, satisfied. No one but Tom and Mother Tibb knew about that incident, and
Mother Tibb was dead.

           
"You'll
come?" Matt said anxiously.

           
"Let
me think a minute," Kim said. There was nothing for her to do here but
fret; running off to see Tom would at least occupy her while the spellcasting
went forward. It felt like abandoning Mairelon--but she couldn't help him, and
if she
could
help Tom, shouldn't she do it? She'd known Tom Correy
longer, and she owed him a good deal. "I'll be back in a minute," she
told Matt, and ran upstairs to the ballroom.

           
The
wizards had finished the preliminaries, and were standing in a clump near the
door. In the center of the ballroom floor, two overlapping triangles had been
drawn by carefully spreading wet rowan-ash in straight lines, forming a
six-pointed star. A small table had been placed just outside each point to hold
the various items the wizards would need for their parts in the spellcasting.

           
"We'll
begin as soon as the duchesse arrives and checks everything over,"
Mairelon was saying as Kim entered. "It shouldn't be--Kim! Has the
Duchesse Delagardie come?"

           
"Not
yet," Kim said. "They'll bring her up as soon as she gets here,
though. I got to go down to see Tom Correy; something's happened."

           
Mairelon
frowned. "You're sure--no, of course you are.
But. . . .
Now?"
He glanced at the windows, alight with the
afternoon sun.

           
Kim
shrugged. "Tom's got to find out I'm a girl sometime."

           
"All right.
But take Hunch."

           
Kim
nodded, swallowing a small lump of disappointment. She had, she realized, been
hoping he would tell her to stay. Well, that was Mairelon for you. She hurried
back toward the stairs, and nearly ran into Mrs. Lowe.

           
"Kim!
Really, you must not race about like that."

           
"Sorry,"
Kim said, intent on getting past her.

           
Mrs. Lowe
grasped Kim's arm and gave it a gentle shake. "Whatever is your
hurry?"

           
"I'm
going out," Kim said. "Excuse me, I have to go."

           
"Without your abigail?"
Mrs. Lowe said,
maintaining her grip on Kim's arm.

           
"It's
. . . wizard business; Mairelon knows all about it." At least, he knew as
much as she did. "And I'm taking Hunch."

           
Mrs. Lowe
considered. "Hunch is no doubt very useful, in his way, but it is hardly
proper for you to wander about the city in his company, even if it is on
wizard
business.
" She sniffed. "I shall come with you myself."

           
"No!
I mean, I don't think--"

           
"I
was under the impression you were in a hurry," Mrs. Lowe said. "Shall
we go?"

           
"It
isn't anywhere proper," Kim said. "You won't like it."

           
"I
had already formed that conclusion," Mrs. Lowe replied. "I may also
add that I am neither blind, nor deaf, nor foolish, and if you think I am
unaware that something is very wrong and has been for some time, you are very
much mistaken."

           
Kim could
only stare at her in consternation.

           
"It
is not my place to pry into matters which my nephew plainly does not wish to
confide in me," Mrs. Lowe went on. "I can, however, make sure that
his ward does nothing disgraceful while he is otherwise occupied. And I
intended to do so."

           
"It
isn't disgraceful. And I told you, he knows about it already."

           
"Richard,"
said Mrs. Lowe austerely, "is frequently oblivious to the social
niceties." She paused. "Should you wish to continue this discussion,
I suggest we do so in the carriage. That is, if you are in fact in so much of a
hurry as you at first appeared."

           
"Oh,
I am," Kim muttered, and started down the stairs, wondering what Tom would
make of this.

           
Matt was
eloquent in his disapproval of Mrs. Lowe's presence; fortunately, he expressed
himself in terms utterly unintelligible to her. He was somewhat mollified when
he realized that they were to travel in a bang-up gentry coach. Mrs. Lowe
ignored him. Hunch, on seeing the oddly assorted group, blinked and began
chewing on his mustache. Kim felt entirely in sympathy with him.

           
As they
drove off, they passed the Duchesse Delagardie pulling up in a landau.
That
means they'll be starting the counterspell soon,
Kim thought, and shivered.
Such a complex spell would take considerable time to cast, but even so,
everything would probably be finished by the time she returned.
One way or another.

           
Possibly
because he was feeling the same anxiety as Kim regarding Mairelon's welfare,
Hunch not only took the most direct route to Tom's but also drove the horses
rather faster than was either wise or required. Matt was much impressed, and
said so at some length until Kim advised him to stubble it. Somewhat sulkily,
he did so.

           
When they
pulled up outside Tom's shop at last, Kim descended and hurried inside without
waiting for Mrs. Lowe or Matt. Tom was sorting through a pile of old clothes on
one of the tables, but he looked up when he heard the door. His eyes widened in
startlement, and he said,
" 'Morning
, miss.
Anything I can do for you?"

           
"You're
the one that sent Matt to get me," Kim said, half enjoying his bafflement,
half fearing his reaction when he finally realized who she was.

           
"
I
sent--" Tom stared at her and his jaw dropped.
"Kim?"

           
"Matt
said you wanted to see me right away," Kim said nervously. "And I
didn't think I'd pass for a boy in daylight, and I thought it was time I told
you anyway, and--What was it you wanted?"

           
"Kim."
Tom's astonished expression slowly gave way to something very like horror.
"I never knew. I wouldn't
of
done it if--I mean,
I thought--I--you--"

           
"What's
the matter?" Kim said, frowning. "Why'd you want to see me?"

           
"He
didn't," said a deep voice from behind Tom. "I did." The owner
of the voice moved out of the shadows as he spoke. He was not much taller than
Kim, but broad and square and as solidly built as the cargo-handlers on the
London
docks. His clothes, however, proclaimed him no dock worker; they were the neat
and well-tailored wear of a respectable businessman who might be expected, on
occasion, to deal with members of the
ton.
Though
"respectable" was not the usual term employed to describe the sort of
business Kim knew he engaged in.

           
"Mannering!"
she said in disgust, and looked at Tom reproachfully. She was more annoyed than
frightened, even when a second man with the look of a bully hector about him
joined Mannering. She was considerably nearer the door than they were, and the
carriage was no more than two feet beyond that; if anything looked like
trouble, she could pike off in a twinkling long before it came near.

           
"I'm
sorry, Kim," Tom said. "But he--I wouldn't of done it if I'd known
you--I'm sorry."

           
Kim shook
her head. Tom's betrayal had surprised her, but only a little. Kim knew well
enough the pressure that someone
like
Mannering could
apply to compel cooperation, and the sort of loyalty that could stand up under
such an assault was a rare commodity. Or at least, rare in the rookeries,
tenements, and stews; she was quite sure that no threat could have persuaded
Mairelon to bend to Mannering's schemes.

           
"Hold
your tongue!" Mannering said to Tom. "Your young friend and I have
business."

           
"Indeed?"
said Mrs. Lowe from behind Kim. "Then I suggest you execute it so that we
may be on our way. This is
not
the sort of establishment at which I wish
to linger."

           
"What?
Who's this?" Mannering demanded.

           
"I
do not desire to be presented to this individual," Mrs. Lowe informed Kim.
"You will oblige me by not doing so."

           
Kim
nodded and looked at Mannering. Swallowing seven or eight questions that she
wanted to ask immediately, she settled for a cautious, "What is it you
want?"

           
"This
is
private
business," Mannering said with a significant look first
at Tom, then at Mrs. Lowe.

           
With
evident reluctance, and a worried look at Kim, Tom vanished through the rear
door. Mannering jerked his head at his henchman and said, "Watch
him."

           
The
henchman started to follow Tom out,
then
hesitated,
eyeing Kim. Mannering scowled. "I said, watch the togs man," he
repeated. "I can deal with a couple of women myself."

           
The
henchman nodded and left at last. Mannering looked pointedly at Mrs. Lowe. Mrs.
Lowe, however, was unmoved. "I told you, this business is private,"
Mannering said pointedly after a moment.

           
"I
am not in the least hard of hearing," Mrs. Lowe replied. "However, if
you think that I propose to leave my nephew's ward alone with a person such as
yourself, you are quite mistaken."

           
"Madam,"
said Mannering in a threatening tone, "I am a wizard!"

           
"What
has that to do with the matter?" Mrs. Lowe returned imperturbably.
"The social niceties, as I have repeatedly pointed out, must be
observed." She paused. "You will not, I hope, pretend to offer either
of us a mischief--not in broad daylight with two grooms and a coachman just
outside."

           
Mannering
looked from Kim to Mrs. Lowe, plainly off balance.

           
"If
you have something to say to me, you'd better say it," Kim told him.

           
"And
you had best say it quickly," Mrs. Lowe said. "Perhaps I should also
mention that before I came in, I sent that singularly impenetrable young
man--the one who brought your message--in search of a constable. While he did
not impress me as being particularly reliable as a general matter, I think that
in this instance he can be depended upon to fulfill his commission."

           
"You're
lying!"

           
"Care
to wager on it?" Kim said. Though it wasn't likely to do much actual good;
in this part of town, Matt could be hours finding anyone. "Pay or play; I
got business elsewhere."

           
"This
is more important," Mannering said, still eyeing Mrs. Lowe doubtfully.

           
Frowning
slightly, Kim glanced at Mrs. Lowe herself. Mairelon's aunt stood in front of
the grimy windows of Tom's shop, looking enormously proper, entirely sure of
herself, and totally out of place. Kim blinked,
then
suppressed a grin.
Mannering's dealt with gentry before, but I'll wager he's
never dealt with one who didn't want to borrow money--and for sure he's never
had to face a respectable lady before. No wonder he's nattered.
Anything
that made Mannering uncomfortable was a good notion as far as Kim was
concerned; she looked back at Mannering and said, "What's so important?
That de Cambriol book?"

           
"You've
got it," Mannering said, leaning forward. His eyes glittered, and he
seemed to have suddenly forgotten Mrs. Lowe's presence entirely. "My clerk
said you showed it to him. I'll pay a round sum for it."

           
"How much?"
Kim said, hoping Mrs. Lowe would have
sense enough to keep her comments and opinions, whatever they were, to
herself
.
If she could get him talking . .
.

           
Mannering
stepped forward. "How
does
fifty pounds
sound?" he said in a voice just above a whisper.

           
Kim's
eyebrows flew up. Fifty pounds was an undreamed-of fortune, by the standards of
her old life. Coming from a usurer accustomed to dealing with the gentry,
however, it was nothing short of an insult. "I ain't
no
gull," she said scornfully. "Mairelon gives me more than that for
pin-money. Make a serious offer, or I'm leaving."

           
"I'm
serious." Mannering stepped forward again, and Kim felt a twinge of fear.
"Oh, I'm very serious. You have no idea how serious I am. Give me that
book!"

           
"I
think not," Mrs. Lowe put in calmly. "Kim, am I correct in guessing
that this . . . person is responsible for that outrageous disruption in the
library two weeks ago?"

           
Kim
turned a little to answer, and took the opportunity to put a little more space
between herself and Mannering. She was still well out of his reach, but a
little caution never hurt anybody. "He was behind it," she told Mrs.
Lowe.

           
Mrs.
Lowe's head moved a fraction of an inch, shifting her attention to Mannering.
Mannering fell back a step. Mrs. Lowe continued to study him for a moment;
finally, she said in tones of icy reproof, "I take leave to tell you, sir,
that you are unprincipled, presumptuous, and criminally self-serving; moreover,
I must assume from your behavior that you lack both manners and wit into the
bargain."

           
Mannering
stared at Mrs. Lowe as if he could not believe his ears. Kim wondered whether
he had ever before had his character so thoroughly cut up in quite such a
formal and cold-blooded manner; somehow, she doubted it. "Wit?" he
said in a strangled voice. "You think I lack wit?"

           
"It
is the obvious conclusion," Mrs. Lowe said. "For even if one sets
aside the illegal aspects of pilfering a book from my nephew's library, a more
poorly conceived and badly executed endeavor than your attempt would be
difficult to imagine. Nor has my opinion of your civility or intelligence been
improved by your actions since our arrival today."

           
"I
am a genius!" Mannering's eyes widened in passion and he raised a beefy
fist for emphasis.

           
Mrs. Lowe
was unimpressed. "I have seen no sign of it."

           
"I
am a wizard!"

           
"So
is my nephew," Mrs. Lowe said. "And while I do not by any means
consider him unintelligent, he is certainly no genius."

           
"Ah,
but he was born a wizard," Mannering said. "I made myself a wizard!
No one else has ever done that."

           
"Indeed?"
Mrs. Lowe said in tones of polite disbelief.

           
Mannering
flung his arms out and gave an unintelligible roar. Magic exploded into the
shop with such force that Kim's skin stung. The pile of clothes in front of her
shivered and rose into the air. It hovered for a moment,
then
began to spin. Tattered shirts, worn breeches, several mufflers, and a jacket
with a hole in the left elbow went flying in all directions. Kim dodged one of
the shirts and two mufflers, keeping her eyes on Mannering all the while. She
hadn't really believed, until this minute, that Mannering could be a wizard.

           
As
suddenly as it had begun, the spell stopped. The flying clothes plowed into
walls with the last of their momentum and slid down into limp heaps.
"There, you see?" Mannering said.

           
"That
is precisely the sort of display I was referring to earlier," Mrs. Lowe
said. "You would have made a more favorable impression had you chosen to
reduce
the mess in this room, rather than to increase it."

           
"How
did
you make yourself a wizard?" Kim put in quickly, before
Mannering took a notion to blow the whole shop up just to prove his genius to
Mrs. Lowe.

           
"You'd
like to know that, wouldn't you?" Mannering said. "You and your toff
friends don't want anyone doing real magic but you. That's why you won't give
me the book, isn't it?"

           
Kim blinked,
startled by this leap of logic. "We haven't agreed on a price yet,"
she pointed out cautiously.

           
"Hang
the price! I want the book.
Now."

           
"What,
you think I'm a flat?" Kim shook her head and snorted. "I don't cart
it around with me everywhere I go. What do you want it for, anyways?"

           
Mannering
smiled. In a calm, too-reasonable voice, he said, "Why, to make it hold on
steady-like."

           
"To
make
what
hold on?"

           
"The spell."
Mannering rocked forward on the balls
of his feet. "It keeps wobbling," he said in a confidential tone.
"And it takes more magic to straighten it out every time. I have to keep
finding new magic to keep it from collapsing. If I had the right book, I
wouldn't have to work so hard to keep them in line."

           
A chill
ran up Kim's spine; she wasn't quite sure what Mannering was getting at, but
she was positive that she wasn't going to like it one bit once she figured it
out. And she didn't like his erratic behavior. Still, his mercurial changes of
mood had kept him talking so far; if he continued, she might find out something
useful. "Keep who in line?"