“I don’t know anything about that.”
“No problem. Let’s start with an easy one. There, what is the sound of that letter?”
“I.”
“Correct. I can read. I know that word. I can say it.”
“The letter is also a word?” Hannah asked.
“A few are. There are some words made of two letters, but for the most part, you can read now, but just don’t know it. I made a mental list while on my way here, words spelled as each letter is said. Once you catch on, you can read words you’ve never seen before.”
“No. Magic? Like your arrows?”
“Nope, just reading. Say, do you know that magic surrounds this tree? All sorts of incantations, charms, and spells I’ve never heard of, or seen, but unless you know what to look for, this place might as well be in another world.”
Hannah said, “I think she is not the first to use it. There were seven or eight before Evelyn. I take it your place is not like this?”
“Lords above and below, no. I have a tiny room in the basement in our barn. I hide the door under two spells, but nothing grand like this. But your explanation tells me what I wondered. No one person could protect this tree so well. Now, let’s get back to work.”
Sage printed a series of words, most with four or fewer letters and showed Hannah how to sound them out. When they were finishing the second set, Sage said, “You’re doing great, Princess.”
Hannah bolted upright, her fears emerging with stilled lips. “Huh?”
“Princess. That’s what Hannah means in the old tongue. Didn’t you know?”
Hannah thought back to the times when Sir James called her Princess, and she never knew there was a joke tied to it. Her name and station in life were the same. She allowed a smile to emerge. “No, but someone dear to me used to call me that sometimes.”
“Oh, I wondered what your reaction was all about. Geez, you looked scared when I said it, and I wondered if I did anything wrong.”
“No, but I guess it is a name my uncle used for me and it’s special for that reason.” Hannah didn’t want anyone hearing her called Princess. Not now. She’d just as soon Sage didn’t use it and bring up the subject so nobody would suspect or wonder and think where they had seen her before.
They worked on reading until Hannah could remember more sounds and recognize them enough for simple words. Sage said, “Here, let me teach you a small but useful spell. Have you ever been caught in a rainstorm?”
Hannah remembered the story her father created so the globes with the explosions and fireworks would work. But making it rain was work of a mage. How did this differ? She decided to watch and pay attention. “Yes, many times.”
Sage smiled, “First, you need a little of the inside bark of a maple, red, spreading, whatever kind of maple that’s handy. Not much, just a pinch. Then you need . . .” She rattled off several more ingredients, and Hannah lost track. Sage withdrew a small bag from inside her pocket. She muttered a few words and blew the powder over Hannah.
“Come now, we’ll go down to the stream, and I’ll show you how it works, but be warned, do not be caught in a storm walking dry. People will know a spell has been cast and suspect you. It’s always best to keep your secrets. It’ll keep you dry and warm.”
At the bathing pool, Sage scooped water with a cup and dribbled it over Hannah’s head. The water flowed down and over her clothes and skin without wetting either. Sage said, “What I have done is wet my hair beforehand, so it appears the rain did it.”
The trick interested Hannah for another reason. She asked, “What if you want it to rain?”
“Then you must see a mage. This spell affects you, a person, not the four elements, you know what they are?”
“Earth, air, fire, and water. But the spell does affect water.”
“No, it affects you. Sorceresses like you and I cannot do magic in the four elements, but we are superior in our ways. A mage can make it rain. You and I can prevent that rain from getting us wet.”
Hannah was beginning to understand and had a glimmer of hope that soon she would know the difference, but inquiring more about Sage might alert her in some way. Back at the tree, Hannah was again reading small words by sounding the letters, and not understanding most. They talked, laughed, ate, and studied.
A crow flew inside and circled the hollow tree trunk once before settling on the perch. Instantly Hannah noticed the crow stood taller than others, and she had never seen it before. It fixed its eyes on her and spoke slowly, and clearly. “Flee Hannah! I am held a prisoner. A spy followed Sage to the tree, and now you both must flee for your lives. The Young Mage is coming.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Sage exchanged a look with Hannah before both leaped to their feet. Hannah collected all she thought valuable, and as Sage readied to leave with her, Hannah shook her head. “If he comes here, he will know I was here, and he will punish Evelyn. We have to make it look like only you were here, but not me.”
As she talked, she collected her spare dresses, the knife she used to wear at her waist, and any signs that a young girl her age had been in the hollow tree. Sage attacked the kitchen, gathering all the perishable food, and even the discarded scraps. As if bees were attacking, they moved so fast that in less time than it took to tell, the inside of the tree was swept, literally, clean of everything that indicated Hannah had lived there.
Hannah even collected her attempts at writing and stuffed them into her bag with her father’s painting and stood back to observe the room the last time. It looked as if the cot and fire pit were for the owner. The few footprints were not hers. She had brought almost nothing into the workshop, and mentally inventoried it all.
“Okay, we can go now.”
Sage looked at her in confusion and fear. “Where?”
Their roles had reversed the instant the crow spoke. Sage was not the scared student looking to Hannah for guidance. “I know a place. Watch where you place your feet. How long does it take to travel from the village to the tree?”
Sage rushed to keep up with the pace Hannah set. “Remember? I have never been to the village.”
“It can’t be far,” Hannah panted. She looked over her shoulder and found the tree barely in sight. A few pink dots drifted by and she poked one with her finger.
“They’re fun. Some smell better, though.” Sage’s voice was oddly quiet and distracted. The fear of the Young Mage capturing her had begun to reach reality.
Sage had been sent as a teacher, not to be the subject of a search by a mage. Her steps were slow and disjointed. Hannah spun and continued walking, exactly in the direction she and Sir James had arrived from after the death of her father. They had been riding on horses, but only for a day, and a little more. The two were well into the forest when thunder rolled and ended with a clap that hurt their ears, and a flash of lightning that filled the air. Hannah looked up at the clear blue sky.
Sage said, “He has found the tree—and not you. He’s angry.”
“When a mage gets mad he creates a storm?”
“Immature ones sometimes do things like that. Remember, they are just men, after all. Young men and they cannot control their emotional outbursts like women. They always want to make loud noises or fight. That’s why a woman can make them do silly things to please us, but also why they will go to war over things you and I would negotiate.”
Another boom of thunder made their feet move faster, and they didn’t have the breath to talk. Did the second clap of thunder sound closer?