“No, wait.” Eliathanis’ voice was thoughtful. “If this really is Carlotta, we can’t risk her finding the manuscript. That means we can’t Just go running off like so many frightened children.”
“She probably wouldn’t let us go anywhere anyhow,” Kevin added, “particularly not in the direction of her brother.” He hesitated, biting his lip nervously. “I—I think we have to go along with the deception, let Charina—or whoever she really is—get close to me again. And then ... well ... I guess then well see what happens.”
For all his brave words, the bardling was half hoping someone would talk him out of it But to his dismay, the White Elf only nodded. “That seems like the best idea. But since you’re going to be playing the bait in what could be a most complicated trap, someone bad best armor you against the weapons you’re likely to encounter.’’
“ “Someone,”“ Naitachal muttered. “That ‘someone,’ of course, is going to be me. Unless one of you has miraculously gained some useful protection spells? No? I didn’t think so.”
Tich’ki grinned, unabashed. “Now why would a fairy deign to protect someone?”
“Why, indeed?” The Dark Elf’s voice dripped sarcasm—”Let the weak get what they deserve, eh?”
“Ha!” the fairy exploded. “Never knew your folks to be concerned with protecting anyone, either!”
“Point taken.”
“Tich’ki,” Lydia cut in, “couldn’t you use fairy magic, though, against Carlotta?”
“How? By influencing her mind, the way I did to those guards?” Tich’ki shivered, wrapping her wings about her. “Not a chance. Look you, I know my limitations—If that really is Carlotta, she’d shrivel me like a moth in a flame.”
“Never mind.” Naitachal glanced at Kevin. “I’m sure you realize that when our White Elf friend mentioned armor, he didn’t mean armor against anything as simple as swords.”
“Uh.-.no.”
“I admit I’m not the most experienced of magicians when it comes to protective spells, as our dear Tich’ki so kindly reminded me.”
She Uttered.
“But I shall do my best,” the Dark Elf continued. “And,” he added wryly, “I promise not to damage you in the process.” Naitachal paused, then gave a heartfelt sigh. “It’s not going to be an easy thing; if I make the spells too obvious, Charina, Carlotta will be sure to sense them. Hey-ho, who needs sleep?” He glanced at the others—”But those spells are for defensive purposes. Now let’s plan what we’re going to do about fighting back.”
“Kevin shouldn’t be left alone for a moment,” Eliathanis suggested.
“That’s easy to say,” Lydia retorted. “I have a feeling that if Charina 01—Carlotta or whatever she wants to call herself really is worried about that manuscript, she’s some to concentrate all her attention on Kevin.”
“All we can do is our best,” the White Elf said simply, and Tich'ki snickered.
“Might have known you’d say something ail fine and noble and useless. Never mind the pretty words, elf! We’ve got some concrete plans to make: what we’re going to do if the ... ah ...witch tries to isolate our boy here; what we’re going to do if she asks him about the manuscript or makes him go get it—that sort of thing. All the nice, practical details.”
Kevin nodded in fervent approval. “By all means, let’s be practical!”
He and the others sat and plotted for some time. At last, satisfied with the results, Naitachal straightened in his chair.
“All right, enough of this. We all know our roles. Now, I have work to do. Lydia, Eliathanis, Tich’ki, if you can’t help me cast spells, you can at least raid the kitchen and castle gardens and get me the components I’ll need.”
The Dark Elf rattled off a list of ingredients. Some of them, like rosemary, Kevin recognized; it was a common element of the protective amulets people wore back in Bracklin. Other items bewildered him totally.
“Naitachal? I didn’t know AAoi had any magical properties.”
Naitachal’s smile was wry. “That’s for me, boy, not for you. This is going to be one long night’s work, and I don’t want to risk falling asleep in the middle of it Oh, and by the way,” he added sharply, catching the others in a warning stare, “once I begin that work, I do not wish to be interrupted. Understood?”
“Totally.” Lydia grinned. “After all, some of us have to look pretty in the morning!”
She dodged as Naitachal threw a pillow at her, and scurried out of the room, her laughter trailing behind her.
The night was late, at the very witching hour, and very dark, moonless and still, without the faintest breath of wind. Not a sound was to be heard without Count Volmar’s casde save for the faint footsteps and chinking of mail of the guards wearily trudging back and forth up on the ramparts. Their torches were small, flickering things barely cutting through the vast mass of darkness.
Within the casde, silence reigned as well. All slept—
Or almost all. Cloistered in Count Volmar’s solar, two people sat in secret conference, sharing a midnight flagon of mulled wine.
Hands cupped about his warm goblet, Volmar chuckled suddenly. “Now you have to admit,” he said, glancing over at Carlotta, “that things are going nicely. Very nicely, indeed.”
The sorceress, in her rightful form once more, red hair pouring over her shoulders and green gown like a stream of flame, stared broodingly down into her own goblet. “So far.”
“Oh my dear princess, don’t be so wary! Kevin may bear the seeds of Bardic Magic as you say, but he is still only a boy. So far it’s been ridiculously easy for me to quite overwhelm him with riches and the trappings of power, you must admit.”
Carlotta glanced up at that, her smile wry, “Granted. Between the two of us, he hasn’t even had a chance to think.”
“Exactly. And I intend to go right on overwhelming him.”
The sorceress stretched wearily, graceful as a predator. “Ay me, and I will endure being simpering little Charina a bit longer, and continue casting my beguilements and love-spells on the boy.”
Volmar pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Now that’s something I don’t understand. Carlotta, you know there’s such a thing as too much caution. Why don’t you just enthrall the boy in one quick burst of sorcery and be done with it?”
Her eyes flashed in sudden angry warning. “Don’t be ridiculous. The only spells I dare use are subtle ones.”
“But why? Surely you can—”
“Surely I can tell you not to meddle! Have you forgotten about that Dark Elf?”
The one you thought dead? Volmar thought but didn’t dare say aloud—”No, of course not But—”
Carlotta’s hands tightened about her goblet “Magic leaves a distinctive feel, if one has sufficient training to identify it. One magician can almost always recognize another in action, no matter which sorcerous disciplines are involved, no matter how many cloaking spells are used. I had a nervous enough moment when that elf first saw me; I swear he nearly sensed who and what I am on the spot. I only just managed to project enough girlish innocence to distract him.”
The sorceress paused. staring at Volmar.” I don’t have to remind you that I don’t want my true identity discovered yet, not by anyone. The elf is a skillful necromancer, no doubt about it And that makes him Talented enough to detect the working of any strong magics by anyone. And so I must limit myself to subtle spells.”