“Must have been stuck.”
‘‘Well, it isn’t stuck now. Come on.”
But Kevin stopped short in the doorway, hunting frantically for some other excuse.
“Ca-Charina.” Gods, he’d almost called her by her real name! “Charina, I... uh ... I chink I’m getting a headache. Maybe tomorrow really would be a better rime to—”
“Don’t be silly! The sooner we take care of the manuscript—Oh, don’t look at me with such horror, Kevin! I meant to a scribe!” She smiled teasingly. “What did you think 1 meant?”
“I...uh ...”
“Anyhow, the sooner we get rid of the manuscript, the sooner we can do what we want. Whatever we want. Like this.”
Without warning, Carlotta threw her arms around his neck, her lips all at once temptingly close to his.
Temptingly? the bardling thought in panic. Her body pressed against his, the sweet scent other perfume filled his nose. At any other time he would have done almost anything to be embraced like this by a lovely young woman, but now—Powers, I'd be safer fussing a spider! But if I don’t fuss her, she'll know something’s wrong ....
Just before he forced himself to choose the lesser peril, Charina pushed him away, giggling. “You haven’t got a headache. Or if you do, it will go away now that we’re out of the garden. It’s just the result of breathing in the smells of all those herbs.” Her smile was a marvel of fake innocence. “Some of them make me sneeze every time I go near them! If the cook didn’t need them for his recipes ... Never mind. Let’s find that silly old manuscript and get out of here.”
Oh please, Kevin told the manuscript, hide from me the way you did before!
He couldn’t pretend not to search, not with Carlotta watching his every move. Oh no, even chough Kevin realized she didn’t really know what the manuscript looked like, she certainly could tell what it didn’t look like; he couldn’t try to fool her with the wrong tide. And so the bardling did the only thing he could, and examined each and every item in the library as slowly and carefully as possible.
Delaying like this was a dangerous game. Kevin was all too well aware that Carlotta’s sweet expression hid barely restrained impatience. If he pushed her too far ...
An age passed, or so it seemed, while he searched the library, then a second age, this one surely long enough to wear away rock. But at last, to Kevin’s despair, he realized he had gone through every manuscript in the library save one.
As though his hand had a life all its own, the bardling watched with fascinated horror as it pulled the manuscript from the shelf, feeling the strange, magical tingling that told him what he held even before he read the title:
The Study of Ancient Magic.
Of course. You pick a wonderful time to come out of hiding, he told the manuscript with bitter sarcasm.
“Kevin!” Carlotta snapped, “What do you chink you’re doing? Why are you staring like that at an empty shelf?”
“But it’s not—”
“Oh, stop clowning!” There was very little of the innocent young girl in that sharp command. “I don’t want to spend all day here. Get on with your search!”
Bewildered, Kevin turned to face her, the manuscript in his hands.
Carlotta’s eyes widened in shock. “You—you have it!” she gasped. In the next moment, the sorceress had herself back under control. “Here, let me have it”
She hadn’t been able to see the manuscript until he took it off the shelf! Stunned by this new bit of magic, the bardling couldn’t find a thing to say except an awkward, “Uh ... sorry, Charina.”
“Kevin? I’m not in the mood for games. Give it to me.”
“I...uh ...can’t.”
“Kevin! Give it to me!”
The bardling backed away towards the door, stammering the first words that came into his head. “I—I have to keep it, to—to—to take it to my room and—”
“I don’t think so.” Suspicion flickered in her eyes. “You’ve figured out the truth, little boy, haven’t you?”
“Id-don’t—”
“Oh, but you do. A pity.”
There wasn’t the slightest trace of youth or innocence in her voice now. As Kevin watched in fascinated terror, he saw Charina’s form grow and alter in a swift, dizzying blur of shape and color. The woman who stood before him now looked nothing like the girl she’d been a few moments before: she was tall and coldly exquisite efface and form, her long hair flaming red, her green eyes hard and chill and—
Of course she doesn’t look anything like Charina, his mind gibbered, Charina—was Carlotta all along!
What had Naitachal said? Aiee, yes: if she changed to her right shape it was probably the prelude to her casting some major spell, because powerful spell-casting shattered illusions—
No time to think. But in that last midnight session, the bardling and the others had worked out every detail of what they were going to do. And oh, he was glad of that preparation now’ If he stood staring at her like a fear-paralyzed fool, she’d strike him down. If he tried to run with the manuscript, like the naive boy who’d first left Bracklin, she’d strike him down. Instead, Kevin simply tossed the manuscript out the library’s open window, praying Tich’ki had had time to get into place.
That was obviously the last thing Carlotta had expected. She let out a shriek of disbelieving rage, her sorcerous concentration broken by shock.
Now’s my chance!
Kevin broke into a run, praying he could get away before she regained control and blasted him. Behind him, the bardling heard her scream again, this time in sheer frustration, and felt his skin prickle as she gathered Power to her. Before she could blast him, Kevin darted out the door, slamming it behind him, knowing that wasn’t going to stop her for more than a moment. He wasn’t a fighter, he wasn’t a magician Powers, Powers, the others had better be ready to help out!
They were. As Carlotta tore the door open, Eliathanis appeared, seemingly from nowhere. Moving with inhuman speed, he pounced, pinning Carlotta in his arms, muffling her attempts to scream with a hand. But of course he couldn’t hope to hold her for long.
“Get out of here, Kevin!” the White Elf shouted.
Then he gasped in pain as the sorceress bit him. Kevin glanced back over his shoulder and saw with a chill of horror that now her mouth was free for spell-casting. A shouted Word sent Eliathanis flying. The bardling stumbled to an anguished stop, sure he was about to see Carlotta slay the White Elf. She spat out a short, twisting sentence—and a bolt of dark fire flashed from her hand.
But before it could strike the fallen elf, Naitachal sprang forward out of the shadows, cloak swirling dramatically behind him, arms raised in denial. The sorcerous fire recoiled from a sudden, unseen wall of force, smashing instead into a wall with a roar like thunder, sending broken stone crashing down in a wild cloud of dust that forced Carlotta back into the shelter of the library. Before she could recover, Eliathanis had scrambled to his feet. The two elves slapped palms in a quick moment of triumph, then took to their heels, catching up with Kevin.
“That noise is going to rouse the whole castle!” Naitachal cried. “Hurry to the gates! Lydia should have fast horses ready.”
“She’d better.” Eliathanis added. “If we don’t get away now—”