Dana Stabenow (ed) by Unusual Suspects

Author:Unusual Suspects [Suspects, Unusual]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

“Well, it looks as if my gremlins have deserted me for good,” Master Justinian said the next afternoon.

He and Master Radolphus were gazing down at the quadrangle. Gwynn looked up from where she was setting the tea table and peeked over their shoulders. Carima was walking down the path to her carriage, following the porters who carried her luggage. She was trying hard to ignore the half dozen adoring gremlins scuttling after her. They gazed up at her with looks of abject adoration on their wizened little faces; they scrabbled at her dress with their muddy paws, leaving long, dirty streaks; and often they stepped on the heels of her shoes in their eagerness to be near her.

“Oh, well,” Justinian said. “They were rather getting in the way here. But it is odd behavior for gremlins.”

“Makes me wonder if she tested some new love potion on them,” Radolphus suggested.

“If so, it rather backfired on her, don’t you think?”

“Definitely,” Radolphus said. “Yes, that’s probably it,” he went on. “Witches will fool around with love potions. Ought to be outlawed. They’re almost impossible to detect, and as for counteracting them—well, I wish her luck. Very careless, if you ask me.”

“Yes, she’s often careless, isn’t she?” Justinian said, glancing briefly at Gwynn. “Do you suppose Mistress Hecate knows how much of a help Carima was to us in solving Horatio’s murder?”

“I hope not,” Radolphus said. “That would be bad for Carima’s career—and possibly her health. I know I didn’t tell, though I suppose Hecate might have guessed. Still, not our problem. Let’s have the tea now.”

The two mages settled by the table, and Gwynn began pouring tea.

“Oh, Gwynn, did you bring the gingerbread?” Justinian asked.

Radolphus frowned as if he thought that rather an odd question—probably because Justinian had paused on the verge of sinking his teeth into one of the cookies in question to ask it.

“Yes,” Gwynn said, glancing up. “And the scones for Master Radolphus.”

“Good,” said Justinian, completing his bite. And then through a mouthful of gingerbread, he added. “Light a few candles, tadpole. It’s getting dim in here.”

Gwynn smiled. She produced the little brass dragon from her pocket, aimed it at a candle, and pressed the catch.

“Grrroarrr!” squeaked the dragon, as the little flame from its snout lit the candle.

“The dragon!” Justinian said, reaching for it. “It’s all together again? How did that happen?”

“I put it together last night,” Gwynn said.

“You did? How?”

Gwynn shrugged. How could she possibly explain? The pieces just fit a certain way, that was all. She could no more explain to the Maestro how she had reassembled the dragon than she could explain casting a mage-light spell to Cook, but she could do either trick with ease. So far she hadn’t figured out how to fold the little paper birds and animals, much less endow them with spells—useful spells, of course, not nasty, silly ones like Carima’s. But she had collected another whole box of them to experiment with, when time permitted. One way or another, she’d learned a lot from the conference.

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