Maybe the boy was on some errand for a wizard? Everybody knew he had been hounding half the magicians in the Wizards’ Quarter for an apprenticeship; maybe he had settled for a job as a wizard’s errand boy. Wizards seemed to take an unhealthy interest in dragons; she had certainly seen enough of them with dragons embroidered on robes, or with carved dragons adorning their shops.
Well, there were ways to find out what was going on. The simplest and best was to walk right up and ask.
If it turned out that her interest wasn’t welcome, well, she was a witch; she could defend herself.
She marched down the path. Behind her the spriggan let out a small yip of dismay, which she ignored, and then scurried after her.
She reached the door, stopped, raised a fist, and knocked loudly. The spriggan grabbed her ankle and held on.
Even through the heavy oak, and even though she had never had any contact with the people on the other side, she could sense the astonishment within. She waited.
Eventually, the door creaked open an inch or so.
“Yes?” a handsome young woman asked, in Sardironese. “Can I help you?”
Teneria could see that the woman was thinking in Sardironese-hardly surprising, as they were still in Aldagmor. The witch was still not very comfortable with the local language, but she tried. “I am looking for Dumery of Shiphaven,” she said, unhappily aware that she had spoken with a very thick Ethsharitic accent, and that the spriggan was clinging to her leg, hampering any fast movement.
“Dumery?” the woman in the house replied, startled. Teneria saw that she knew exactly who Dumery of Shiphaven was; the mental image she conjured up matched Teneria’s own perfectly.
“Yes,” Teneria said, nodding. “Dumery.”
“He hadn’t told us he was expecting anyone,” the woman said, uncertainly.
Teneria realized that she wasn’t much older than herself.
“He wasn’t expecting me,” she said. “His... his...” She groped for the word.
Seeing Teneria’s discomfort, the woman said, “I understand Ethsharitic, mostly.”
Teneria noticed that she hadn’t said soin Ethsharitic, so she kept her words as simple as she could. “His parents sent me,” she said.
“Oh!” The confusion cleared from the woman’s mind with miraculous speed. “Come in! I’m Seldis of Aldagmor; my parents and grandfather own this place. Come on in.” She swung the door wide.
“Thank you,” Teneria said, accepting the invitation. The spriggan, riding on her boot, came with her.
She found herself in a large, cluttered room, facing a horde of children and a handful of adults. One of the children she immediately recognized-Dumery of Shiphaven.
“Hello, Dumery,” she said. “I’m Teneria. Your parents sent me.”
“My parents?” the boy asked warily. “Not Thetheran?”
“Well-my mistress, actually. I’m still an apprentice. But your parents hired her.” Teneria was uncomfortably aware of more than a dozen pairs of eyes watching the conversation closely, even though she could tell that only four of the listeners understood Ethsharitic-an old man with an arm missing, a big, powerful middle-aged man, a small, dark middle-aged woman, and Seldis.
Some of the children had spotted the spriggan, and were pointing at it and whispering to one another. The little creature hopped off and ran off to hide under the furniture somewhere.
“They did?” Dumery asked. “Who is she, your mistress?”
“Sella the Witch,” Teneria replied.
“My father hired a witch?” The boy believed her, she knew; he was just startled.
“I think your mother had more to do with it,” she answered.
The middle-aged man had stepped forward; while Dumery groped for another question the man spoke, holding out a hand in greeting. “Welcome to our home, young lady,” he said. “I am Kensher Kinner’s son.”
“Teneria of Fishertown.” She bowed politely.
Dumery watched as this unexpected new arrival was introduced to all the inhabitants of the farmhouse, and as he watched he was trying to figure out what to do now.
He had never expected his parents to send someone after him; despite the dream Thetheran had sent he hadn’t thought that they cared enough, or that his father would be willing to pay for it, and besides, why would they send someone when they had used the dream spell?
And quite aside from all that, how had this person found him?
She was an apprentice witch, of course, but he hadn’t known that witches could do that.
Somehow, though, she had found him. Maybe that spriggan he had seen run under the sofa had had something to do with it, if that was the same one he had seen back at the Inn at the Bridge-after all, he knew even less about spriggans than he did about witches.
Just how it was done didn’t really matter, though, since it had been done.
So now what?
What did this do to his plans?
It pretty much knocked them to pieces, he realized, unless he could either get rid of this Teneria, or get her over on his side, somehow. He had intended to take his leave of the farm, then sneak back at night and steal two hatchlings, as breeding stock for his own farm. If he were in a witch’s care he couldn’t very well carry out his scheme without her knowing about it.
Getting her over to his side-well, that would be ideal, certainly. A witch would be extremely useful.
However, he couldn’t imagine any way it could be done. Getting rid of her should be far easier.
Just now, though, he wasn’t sure how to do that, either.
It would require further thought.
Teneria, even as she committed the names of all the children to memory, was listening as best she could to Dumery’s thoughts.
She couldn’t get them exactly, but she knew he wasn’t happy with her presence.
He had been planning something, and he didn’t think she would approve.
This was something she would want to discuss with him. In private.
She smiled at Pancha and complimented her, in awkward Sardironese, on her fine collection of offspring. The mistress of the house smiled back.
She invited Teneria to stay for dinner, and for the night, and with an eye on Dumery, Teneria accepted.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Upon consideration, Teneria realized that effective privacy would not actually be all that hard to obtain, since the children spoke no Ethsharitic-only the adults had to be avoided. When Kensher and the older children were out checking on the livestock after dinner, and the younger children were playing with the spriggan, and Pancha was in the kitchen putting away dishes, a little judicious witchcraft allowed Teneria to get Dumery away from Kinner and Seldis.
Dumery hadn’t really noticed yet that the two of them were alone in the front room until Teneria demanded, “All right, Dumery, what are you up to?”
Startled, Dumery said, “I don’t know what you mean.” He eyed the young woman he was beginning to think of as his captor and wondered how much she knew. The stories he had heard were vague on whether witches could read one’s thoughts, or merely sense moods.
“I know you’re up tosomething,” she said. “I’m a witch, remember? Now, suppose you tell me all about it.”
“All aboutwhat?” Dumery persisted, still unsure of his best course of action.
Teneria put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “You know what.”
“No, I don’t,” Dumery said, trying to look puzzled.
Teneria let out an exasperated sigh. “All right, then,” she said, “let’s take it a step at a time. What are you doing up here in the mountains of Aldagmor, instead of safe at home on with your parents?”