She woke to see the room quite dark, lit only by two tallow candles and the fire on the hearth. She blinked, looking up, and saw Idris busy with a wooden spoon, stirring a pot that hung over the fire. A delicious aroma came from it, a stew of some sort. Balkis stirred in her chair, and Idris looked up. “Awake, are you?”
“You used magic on me,” Balkis accused.
“Call it that if you will,” Idris told her. “I won’t. What do you remember?”
The question caught her by surprise, but the host of images it evoked brought her to sit bolt-upright, staring into the flames. “I … I remember … I remember it all!”
“Very good, for so small a baby.” Idris nodded. “I was quite impressed.”
“But … but what were they?” Balkis pleaded. “The wood around me-I suppose that was a box of some sort, and I was in it, and I must have been floating in water, for I felt the rise and fall beneath me—but why would my mother have set me adrift?”
“You remembered voices shouting and screaming in the distance,” Idris told her. “I would guess it was war, and your mother trying to save you. Amazing you heard, considering she had drugged you into sleep—but the sounds made you dream, and the drug made those dreams vivid.”
“You mean the green faces were part of the dream?”
“They might have been, but they looked like the water-spirits we call ‘nixies’ here. I don’t think an infant would have dreamt of such by herself. No, I think the drug had worn off by the time you saw them, and they were real enough—sprites who were struck by the novelty of a baby in a box, and took it into their heads to save you.”
“You make it sound like a moment’s whim!”
“It would have been,” Idris said, musing. “They are flighty things, nixies are, without the slightest notion of responsibility, and scarcely a germ of compassion. Life is only pleasure and gaming to them, and they’ve no patience with anything that does not please them. Indeed, I am surprised they paid attention long enough to take you to shore and call the dryads to help you.”
“The women who came out of the trees! They were dryads?”
“They were indeed,” Idris said. “Most trees have them, and the forest abounds with them—for those who can see. They are gentle, compassionate creatures, with a motherly instinct to them—as they’d have to be, to see their acorns grown to saplings.”
“So they took pity on an orphan, even if she were not of their own kind?”
“They did indeed. There are children abandoned in the wood every year because their parents can no longer feed them, and those who survive do so because they let the dryads care for them. In your own case, though, what matters most is that they changed you into a cat, which saved your life, then touched you, as the nixies had—indeed, they petted you quite a bit, and each stroke left a trace of magical power in its wake. The dryads here in Allustria did the same, so it’s no wonder you’ve such an aura of magic about you—they filled you with enough as to last your whole life, and then some!”
“But I don’t know any magic,” Balkis objected, then thought better. “At least, none but changing my form.”
“Then you’ll have to learn, won’t you?” Idris said. “And I’ll have to teach you.”
Balkis’ heart leaped with delight at the woman’s kindness, but she protested, “I only came for a potion to keep me from going into heat!”
“And found it, so you’ll be free to change shape whenever you wish,” Idris said, “and I always did like having a cat about. No, my lass, you had better stay and learn, for you’ve a destiny upon you, and you’ll need all the magic you can master to fulfill it.”
“A destiny?” Balkis stared. “How can you tell that?”
“I have the Second Sight.”
Balkis’ heart leaped with hope. “Have I?”
“Too early to say,” Idris replied, then with some asperity, “You might say thank you, you know.”
“Thank you indeed,” Balkis answered. “Thank you very much, and from the bottom of my heart.”
Learning magic came easily, and Balkis couldn’t understand why Idris kept warning her that it would take a great deal of hard work, that she must not let herself be down-hearted if she didn’t succeed at first, but must persevere in order to learn it. Balkis proved her wrong—she learned every spell by heart at one repetition, memorized every gesture at first sight, and somehow was able to turn her emotions and her will to the spell as easily as breathing.
“It’s all that magic you were steeped in,” Idris said, exasperated, “and the instinct for its use you’ve developed, changing your form all these years. You learn magic as easily as stalking a mouse! It’s not fair, it’s just not fair, when I had to work so long and hard to learn it!”
“But I’ve nowhere nearly so sharp a mind as you,” Balkis protested.
“Nowhere? Everywhere, say rather! You’ve at least as much intelligence as I, and you put a project into motion as soon as you think of it!”
“Well, of course,” Balkis said, surprised. “Why wait?”
“Why? Because you might not succeed, and there might be a deal of trouble if you don’t!”
“Oh, I couldn’t let that stop me,” Balkis explained. “I mean, I had to discover why Mama couldn’t see me, even though I was calling to her, didn’t I? And when I realized I’d slipped into kitten form, of course I had to change myself back to a baby.”
“Did you indeed!” Idris stared at her, arms akimbo. “Well, of course you had to, didn’t you? How young were you then?”
“Oh …” Balkis gazed off into space. “A year, perhaps two.”
“Few folk can remember so far.”
“Well, yes, but a two-year-old cat can.” Balkis flashed her a smile. “I remembered it as a cat when I was ten, so of course I remember it now as a human.”
“Yes, of course again,” Idris echoed, wondering. “But you had to learn not to change into a cat where people could see, didn’t you?”
“I did realize that, yes,” Balkis admitted, “especially when Mama used to tell me tales of witches in the wood, and the frightful monsters who dwelt there, too.”
“And after they died?” Idris asked, narrow-eyed. “How long did it take you to decide how to proceed with no guardians?”
Balkis’ smile turned cynical. “As soon as I realized the neighbor boys and, aye, even old men, were eyeing my parents’ cottage with as much greed as they were eyeing me. The answer was easy—turn to a cat, and go.”
“Yes, easy,” Idris said, looking rather numb. “Leave your possessions and your legacy, yes, nothing to it. But you might have changed into a cat in heat.”
“I had to wait until I was sure the season had passed, then hope I could reach you before it started again,” Balkis explained. “I’d heard tales of a witch who lived in the depths of the forest, and hoped you could help me—and would.” Her smile turned dazzling. “And bless you, my friend and teacher, you did!”
“And right glad I am to have done so.” But Idris frowned, considering. “So all your life you’ve had to solve problems and put the solutions into practice right away. No wonder you’re so quick to solve the magical puzzles I give you, and quicker to put them into practice.”
“I’d never thought of that,” Balkis said slowly. “I suppose it is a gift.”
“One well earned, if it is,” Idris said. “Here’s a new puzzle for you, then, child—in only six months you’ve learned all I can teach, but you clearly could learn a great deal more.”