For a moment Kilisha sat on the stool, staring happily at the restored stick and feeling pleased with herself, but then she could no longer contain the enthusiasm at her accomplishment that she felt bubbling up inside her. She jumped off the stool, snatched up the stick, and bounced into the parlor to find Yara standing at the front door, talking to someone outside.
“It worked!” Kilisha burst out happily.
Yara turned, startled. “Thani?” she asked.
Much of Kilisha’s good cheer abruptly evaporated. “No, Mistress,” she said. “But I got the restoration spell to work. See?” She held up the stick.
Yara looked at it.
“It’s a stick,” she said.
“Yes, but it was broken, and now it isn’t,” Kilisha explained.
“And this will fix Thani?”
“It should,” Kilisha said. “The mirror thinks it will.”
“But you need the jewelweed and the couch, first?”
“I have the jewelweed, Mistress. All I need is trie couch. And the other furniture, and the spriggan.” She gestured at her surroundings, where the chair and bench appeared to be watching her, the coatrack was pacing back and forth on its tether, and the spriggan was perched atop the end table, dancing from foot to foot as the table rocked back and forth.
“You hear that?” Yara said, turning back to the door. “We just need the couch!”
“We’re looking,” someone replied, and Kilisha recognized Nis-sitha’s voice.
“Well, please keep looking,” Yara said. Then she closed the door and turned to Kilisha. “You can do the spell? You’re sure?”
“Well, I did it once,” Kilisha said. “I think I can do it again.”
“Won’t it be harder putting together so many parts of a living person than just unbreaking a stick?”
“Um...” Kilisha hadn’t thought about that. She remembered how she had had to shape the magical smoke cloud to fit the shape of the pieces and force them back together, then tried to imagine wrapping a cloud around the mirror, the dish, the spoon, the rug, and all the rest....
“Probably,” she admitted.
“Then I think you should practice some more. Keep practicing until we find the couch! I don’t want it going wrong when you try it on my husband.”
“Yes, Mistress,” Kilisha said. She looked down at the stick in her hand, a simple object that had been broken into two simple pieces, and considered how many complicated pieces Ithanalin was in. Then she looked back at Yara and said, “May I have an egg, please?”
Chapter Twenty-five
Reassembling a smashed egg with Javan’s Restorative was different from repairing a stick-largely because of the liquid nature of its contents-but was not, Kilisha was pleasantly surprised to discover, significantly more difficult. A shattered earthenware mug was midway between the two.
She ignored the occasional voices in the parlor and kitchen, and the frequent activities of the spriggan.
Allowing for rest periods and preparation time those few iterations of the spell used up most of the afternoon, and after the last Kilisha decided that further attempts could wait until after supper. She undertook her usual chores, sweeping out the kitchen and picking up after the children, then did a quick inventory of the furniture and the spriggan before returning to the kitchen to assist Yara with dinner preparations.
As she chopped carrots and onions for the soup Kilisha asked whether there was any news of the couch, and Yara responded with a detailed report that lasted well into the meal but, in the end, came down to “no.”
Kelder had mobilized the city guard-that portion of it not committed to other, more urgent activities such as guarding the Fortress in case Empress Tabaea launched an attack, or running errands for the Wizards’ Guild in their attempts to analyze and neutralize the self-proclaimed empress, or preparing refuges for the fleeing nobility of Ethshar of the Sands. The guards at all eight gates had denied seeing any ambulatory furniture leave the city, and at least a hundred other guards were patrolling the streets, looking for the couch and spreading the news that it was wanted.
Of course, they would be patrolling the streets in any case, as part of their ordinary duties, but Kelder had assured Yara that they would also be searching for the missing couch.
Opir had all of Kilisha’s friends and family from Eastgate and the surrounding neighborhoods making inquiries through the usual network of chatter and gossip. Yara thought it very unlikely that the couch could be in Eastgate, or would even have passed through-it would have been seen, and the news would have been reported by now. The search had now spread to Eastside, Lake-shore, and Farmgate, and should eventually take in the entire city- save perhaps the wealthy areas where neighbors gossiped at fancy balls and dinners, rather than in the streets and shared courtyards.
Istram had brought word to the Wizards’ Guild, and the missing couch would be placed on the agenda for discussion as soon as Tabaea had been dealt with. In the meantime, several wizards and apprentices had promised to tell him if they saw such a couch.
And in their own neighborhood, on Wizard Street between Lakeshore and Center City, Adagan and Nissitha and others were making inquiries. Nissitha was very proud of the effort she was putting in, but as yet had no positive results.
Kilisha was impressed by the extent of the net being cast, but even so, after a moment she remarked, “Except for the soldiers, we haven’t heard anything from the south half of the city, or from the waterfront.”
“Not yet,” Yara agreed. “If the couch isn’t found soon, we’ll have to start looking there.”
“What if we never find it?” Lirrin asked, worried, and Pirra burst out crying. Yara quickly jumped from her chair and snatched up her youngest to comfort her, hugging her to one shoulder. Pirra’s weeping faded to a whimper.
“We’ll find it,” Kilisha said. “You can’t hide something as big as a couch forever!”
“You can if it’s invisible,” Telleth said.
“Yes, but it’s not invisible,” Kilisha said.
“How do you know?” the boy asked.
“It wasn’t invisible when it left here. Kelder saw it go. And it doesn’t have any hands to work spells with, so it couldn’t turn itself invisible.”
“Well, what if some evil magician, a demonologist or a sorcerer or someone, turned it invisible?”
Kilisha glowered at him. “Why would anyone do that?”
“I don’t know — but why else hasn’t anyone found it yet?”
“There arc plenty of places to hide in this city,” Kilisha said. “Someone will find it eventually. You’ll see.”
And with that she pushed away her half-finished meal and stalked back into the workshop, where she went through Ithan-alin’s book of spells once more, looking for some magic that might help find the couch.
She found none, and in the end set about practicing Javan’s Restorative again, failing her first attempt to reassemble a shattered jar, then getting it right on the second try.
She also repaired and cleaned a torn tunic, and fixed a toy juggler Telleth had broken a twelvenight before; she had decided that if she was going to work the spell, she might as well make it useful, rather than specifically breaking things so that she might restore them.
The jar, the tunic, and the toy all came out as good as new, gleaming and flawless. By the time she finally went to bed she wondered why the spell wasn’t used more often.
Of course, the ingredients weren’t free, and it took at least an hour, usually more, of a wizard’s time — hardly reasonable for repairing broken toys. It really wasn’t an especially difficult spell, though. She was confident that she would be able to use it to restore Ithanalin, once she had all the pieces.