The Thinking Woman's Guide to Real Magic (38 page)

“So what precisely happened, when you got there?” Nora asked. “Ilissa wasn't expecting
you,
was she?”

“No, but she was very gracious.” Hirizjahkinis seemed amused at the recollection. “She kept saying how happy she was to have the chance to get to know me better, after all this time. There was a splendid reception, and then we had a smaller dinner party—Ilissa, Raclin, Hirgus, and I. That was when she brought out the Chalice.”

“What possessed you to eat her food?” Aruendiel demanded. “It's the easiest way for her to enchant you.”

“Oh, the whole place was awash in enchantments. There was no avoiding them. I thought, Well, I might as well enjoy it! We were hungry, and the food was delicious—although it is true, after we left I was starving.”

Aruendiel's long, crooked nose had a pinched look, as though he had smelled something foul. Before he could say anything, Nora said swiftly: “Did Ilissa say anything about me?”

“Yes, indeed!” To her surprise, it was Hirgus who spoke. “Several of the Faitoren mentioned your spectacular departure. They regard it as very unsporting.” He chuckled a little.

“Ilissa called you a dear daughter-in-law,” Hirizjahkinis said, “and asked is there any chance you could be persuaded to return home. I said she is doing quite well where she is. And then Ilissa said that if any harm comes to you, she will take revenge on that criminal Aruendiel to the last drop of his black blood.”

“Thank you for bringing that message, Hiriz,” Aruendiel said. “Were there any others for me?”

“They were all in that vein. But truly, we did not spend
that
much time talking about you.” She laughed.

“What did you talk about?” Nora asked.

“The evening became a little awkward, once I pointed out that the chalice was not the Chalice. But Ilissa made things smooth again. She has very good manners—yes, she does, Aruendiel! She asked me to tell her something of my history, and she is a good listener. And then—” Hirizjahkinis cast a heavy-lidded, amused glance around the table. “I was back at home—my first home, before I went away to the temple, eating my mother's
guanish
pudding, listening to my grandfather tell stories about sailing on the ocean when he was young. I mean, I was really there. Sister Moon, I haven't had
guanish
pudding so good in years and years.”

“Illusions.” Aruendiel raised his hands as though he could wrestle some relief out of the air. “Fraud. She was tricking you.”

“Yes, of course, Aruendiel. I do know
something
about magic—I was quite aware I was being enchanted. But there was nothing to do but try to take some pleasure in it. After a while I was at the temple of the Holy Sister Night again, keeping vigil in the moonlight with my dear friend Janixiya. You know, you are not supposed to talk all night long. So we had to find other ways of passing the time.” A small, private smile played over Hirizjahkinis's lips and then vanished. “It was a surprise to me—that Ilissa could do such good work.”

Aruendiel exploded: “Good work?”

Nora suddenly had a very clear recollection of the time, sophomore year of college, when Petra from her dorm told her about trying heroin with a new boyfriend: “And, Nora, it was heaven, it really was amazing.” Petra was doing fine, out of rehab for a couple of years now, Nora reminded herself.

“Then Janixiya disappeared, and I was back in Ilissa's dining room,” Hirizjahkinis said, her tone still wry, controlled. “She and Hirgus were gone. I was alone with Raclin. He had not said much at dinner. He let Ilissa talk and talk. Now I asked him, ‘Where are the others?'”

“‘My mother is at work on your fat friend,' Raclin said—I am sorry, Hirgus, but that is what he said. ‘And you're at work on me?' I asked him. He laughed and poured more wine for himself. ‘Not yet,' he said.

“‘I didn't have the pleasure of seeing you when your mother was in Semr this year,' I said.

“That set him off, mentioning Semr. He ranted about you for a while, Aruendiel—I think he was not happy to be a statue, not happy at all—but mostly he wanted to complain about his mother. Yes, his mother! The mission to Semr was a waste of time, he said, just like her scheme to fool the emperor with the fake Chalice.

“‘She keeps coming up with these ridiculous plans that never work,' he said. ‘And she pulls me into them, and she won't listen when I tell her how stupid they are. Look at all those awful human women I had to marry—so that she could have an heir.'

“‘My sympathies are with those women,' I told him.

“‘I know you met the last one, Nima, in Semr. Ilissa was so proud of finding her and fixing her up. When I saw her afterward, with the cripple, I couldn't believe how ugly she was, her natural face.'”

Nora's mouth fell open. “It's not as though the Faitoren are so good-looking, under all that magic!
Nima?
He couldn't remember my name?”

“Raclin's observations are as degraded as he is,” Aruendiel said. He had been sitting absolutely still, withdrawn into a state of icy, looming disapproval. “Must we hear them all in such detail?”

“Nora, I hope it does not pain you too much?” Hirizjahkinis said.

“No, I'm glad Raclin has obviously—moved on.” She wasn't sure if the idiom would translate, but Hirizjahkinis, at least, seemed to understand it.

“That's what I thought, too,” Hirizjahkinis said, her eyes narrowing, “but when I said to Raclin, Oh, then you are done with her—and her name is
Nora,
by the way—he said no, not at all. Again, he started to rant. It was very tedious. I will spare you the details, but he is still angry at what he calls your insolence, the dishonor you have brought to him, and so forth.” She blew air out of her cheeks. “Like a little boy when someone takes away the kitten he was torturing.”

“Right,” Nora said, not entirely at ease with Hirizjahkinis's simile. She thought she merited a full-grown cat, at least. “Well, I guess I'll have to live with that.”

“What I saw very clearly”—Hirizjahkinis was addressing Aruendiel now, and her tone had crispened—“there is division between Ilissa and Raclin. They both want to escape—he told me how bored he is!—but he is impatient with her plots. He wants to act, to make war.”

Aruendiel stirred. “Ilissa has always kept him on a short leash.”

“He wants to break it.”

“Perhaps I should not have called off my attack.”

“It would be wiser to bring others into the fight first.” Her sudden laugh sounded forced. “Raclin will give you your provocation, if you wait. He is not subtle. Not subtle at all.”

Aruendiel said: “What did he do to you, Hiriz?”

She folded her arms on the table. “You remember that day at Nazling Putarj?” When he nodded, she looked from Nora to Hirgus. Her eyes were old. “That was the first time I met Aruendiel,” she told them. “It was after I had been thrown out of the temple. I was to be stoned, then fed to the lions. Punishment for my disobedience.”

“Raclin made you go back there,” Aruendiel said. His tone was neutral but each word seemed to be weighted with his full concentration.

“Yes,” said Hirizjakinis, smiling fiercely. “I could feel the ropes again. I could smell the lions in their pit. I was parched—the guards were supposed to give me water, but they forgot, or the high witch priestess wanted me to die of thirst as well as blows and bites.

“That day, I saw you in the crowd, Aruendiel, your strange white face in the middle of all the angry ones. Do you remember, you winked at me?”

Aruendiel cocked his head meditatively, as though to examine the past more closely. “I suppose I did.”

“I did not know what it meant, that wink, but I kept looking at you. I remember you came up to the very edge of the scaffold, as they started to throw the stones, and one of the guards tried to shove you back.

“And then all the stones turned into butterflies, and the lions were out of their pit and on top of the guards, and my ropes were gone, and the white-skinned demon who had winked at me was dragging me through the shrieking crowd.” She chuckled. “I did not realize at first that we were invisible.”

“It seemed prudent,” Aruendiel said.

“This time, though”—Hirizjahkinis almost spat out the words, and Nora understood she was no longer talking about the old memory—“there was no wink. You looked at me and you turned away.”

“Ah.” Aruendiel's eyes were hard.

“You disappeared in the crowd, and then the stones hit me.” Hirizjahkinis shook her head, emitting a small hiss of vexation. “On and on. All parts of my body. The lions smelled the blood, they began to roar. It was just—just as I had feared. Raclin enjoyed it very much, I am sure.

“And all the time he whispered in my ear that I could free myself if I untied the ropes—they were magic ropes, do you remember, Aruendiel? Only a magician could untie them.

“Raclin's voice never stopped. ‘Save yourself, lift the spell. You know how. Lift the spell.'” She mimicked Raclin's caressing bass with eerie accuracy, and involuntarily Nora hunched her shoulders.

“And if you had lifted the spell—” Nora said hesitantly.

“You would have lifted the barriers around the Faitoren realm,” Aruendiel finished.

“I think so.” Hirizjahkinis nodded.

“But you didn't,” Nora said.

“No. I decided, enough of the Faitoren and their silly games!” There was a golden note of triumph in Hirizjahkinis's voice now. Deliberately she stroked the leopard skin where it covered her upper arm. “I called my servant the Kavareen from where I had left him, outside Ilissa's realm. He came at once—he gave Raclin a great scare—” Hirizjahkinis clawed the air with her fingers, bared her teeth, laughed. “And there was no more silliness about untying magical ropes.

“Then,” she added cheerfully, “I went to find Hirgus, who was engaged in a
very
private discussion with Ilissa—”

“She was still negotiating for the removal of the magical barriers around her kingdom,” Hirgus said, blinking, his mouth pursed inside the tapestry of his beard. “Of course I could do nothing for her—”

“Of course,” said Aruendiel.

“And I am appalled to learn now how badly Madame Hirizjahkinis was treated in my absence. All of us may not always have the same interests,” Hirgus said, with a vague gesture, “but I like to think there is such a thing as professional courtesy among magic-workers. There is no question of dealing with the Faitoren in good faith after that.”

“Thank you, Hirgus. I am pleased that you and I feel the same way.” To Aruendiel, Hirizjahkinis said: “Well, we came away, and here we are.”

There was a pause. Aruendiel looked down at his bowl of oatmeal, almost untouched, but it seemed to Nora that he did not really see it. He raised his head again to address Hirizjahkinis. “And if you had not had the Kavareen, or if it had disobeyed you?”

“But I had the Kavareen,” Hirizjahkinis said, with the air of stating the obvious. “And it always obeys me.”

“All demons in the thrall of a human are ready to turn against their master,” Aruendiel said, looking at the Kavareen's yellow eyes with dislike. “Even the ghost of a demon.”

“Then I would have to let my friend Aruendiel rescue me—again!—and I would hope you would not make me wait long,” Hirizjahkinis said with some severity. After a moment, she laughed and touched Aruendiel's hand lightly. “Peace, I gave you some cause for fear, and I am sorry for it. But you see, I was not completely unprepared.

“And now—I saw Hirgus yawn just now, and I am fatigued myself. We must demand more of your hospitality, Aruendiel.”

Nora glanced at the window. The sun was up, finally.

Aruendiel obviously would have preferred to continue the discussion, but he could not ignore the reminder of his duties as a host. Hirizjahkinis was canny, Nora thought. He managed to assume a blander, more pacific demeanor and said something conventional about his roof, bread, and sword being at the service of his guests, then directed Nora to tell Mrs. Toristel to prepare their rooms.

Nora came back to catch the tail end of what Hirizjahkinis was saying.

“—No, I do not think it was wasted effort, not at all. I have passed an interesting night, sometimes pleasant, sometimes not—and now we know more about Ilissa's plans.” Hirizjahkinis gave an emphatic nod.

“What do you mean, a night?” Aruendiel asked roughly. His newfound courtesy had evaporated again. “The letter I got from Lukl said you had been three days in Faitoren territory.”

“You are joking. Three days!” Hirizjahkinis drew back, and for a moment, panic looked out of her eyes. Then she recovered. “Ah, no wonder I was hungry! The Faitoren enchantments confounded my wits more than I knew.” She laughed.

“They do that,” said Nora, almost to herself, as she came up behind them. She doubted that anyone heard her. But Aruendiel glanced back, frowning, watchful behind the battered walls of his face.

•   •   •

As Aruendiel came up the stairs from his study, Hirizjahkinis looked up from the tarnished silver cup that she had been studying—Voen's Chalice, in fact—and put it back on the shelf. “It is gracious of you to give Hirgus free rein with your library,” she said. “I do not recall your being so generous in the past. You have books that you never let
me
read—that second volume of Firginon Sior's memoirs, for instance.”

Aruendiel gave a quick, determined shudder, like a cat shedding water from its fur. “It is better than having to converse with him myself. And you need not feel slighted. Hirgus can read as much as he likes of certain books. There are others that he will never be able to open, and if he should succeed, one glance at the page would blind him forever.”