Sara said, “Well, that doesn’t sound so bad.”
“Not that,” Maude said. “It’s what he’ll end up doing since he cannot collect the reward. He will try to make deals with those searching for you. He’ll do that out of anger, spite, and jealousy.”
Brice said, “I can throw a few punches his way.”
“No need,” Maude said. “I think I have this under control. I will need to tag Jam for safety, but the events will then carry out, and I’ll step in and make sure he does as his father intended.”
Sara said, “I understood very little of that. But what about making him forget about us? With a spell?”
Maude said, “Spells wear off. He will remember and still manage to cause you problems. Remember, you will remain here for several years.”
“Maybe another spell?”
Maude said, “The three of you will remain inside these walls, I say again. I’ll slip out and place a small tag-spell that will let me follow him. When the time is right, I’ll cast a couple of spells on the boy, and arrange for him to sail on another ship, one leaving soon.”
“He’ll still tell everyone about us,” Prin said. “All on his new ship, and in every port.”
Maude laughed as if she enjoyed Prin’s comments. Then she said, “We have teaching and learning to do every day, but Brice’s comes first. As for the forget-spell, what happens after a day?”
“He remembers.” Sara didn’t sound happy as she said it.
“A good sorceress chooses her spells wisely. Jam is a boy in search of respect, and there is the flaw we will capitalize upon. The spell I think may work best is one that will make him tell his stories larger than life. He’ll talk about climbing the tallest mountains, catching the eye of princesses, making trades that are legendary, and more. His crewmates will quickly figure that out, and anything he says about the two of you will be ignored as more fabrication.”
“Really?” Prin asked. “You have identified his weakness and will use it to destroy his credibility. That’s worth knowing how to do.”
Maude said, “There is a time for punching, but more often than not, problems can be solved by using your mind. Now, Brice, suppose the two of us go into my workshop, and you learn something to fill your mind with wonder and knowledge.”
They entered the workshop together while Sara and Prin sat. Sara handed Prin a book and said, “Read.”
“What is it?”
“How do we know until you read it?”
With a sigh, Prin began sounding out words, but her reluctance quickly turned to enjoyment as she repeatedly read and sounded out unknown words. Sara poured tea from the bottomless pot and tried to find how the spell worked.
Prin finally looked up and said, “Will the captain be mad that we put Jam on another ship?”
“More likely, he’ll be upset with Jam, if he ever finds out. If Maude manages to capture him before the Merry Princess sails, he will not know until Jam arrives back in Indore, and then it will be what he wanted to do with Jam in the first place.”
Prin said, “Good. He shouldn’t be unhappy with us.” She stood and stretched. “I’m going to look out back.” She opened the rear door and slipped outside, grabbing a handful of red cherries hanging on the tree as she strode past it. The cherry pits she’d spit the day before were gone. The grass appeared as if a gardener had just finished a day’s work.
The grounds were calming, and she detected more spells as she moved. The stretch-spell that made it larger, of course, but she also detected the yellow haze on top of the brick wall. She climbed a tree near it and looked over the top. The wall was wide, almost a full step, and broken glass was embedded in the mortar. Anyone attempting to climb over it was going to hurt.
A white thread circled the garden faded into, and out of, view. She cocked her head and realized that while she heard no talking or shouting from outside, no birds flew into the garden, so none sang. It was quiet. Too, quiet.
A word sprang to mind. Artificial. The garden was not real. The plants were frozen at the perfect time, the sounds muffled, the wall protected from intruders, and even the grass didn’t need cutting. No gophers, ants, or stinging bees. Each flower and fruit perfect. Artificial. She found she didn’t like it. Imperfections were the way of life. A curled leaf, or spot on an apple to cut away was real.
One tree trunk stood almost as round as a man. She drew her knife and let it fly. It struck point first . . .then fell to the ground without a sound. The spell placed on the tree wouldn’t even allow a regular knife to penetrate. That reminded her of the arrows Sara used; the ones that never missed. She intended to try the same spell on her knife, someday. But she still needed a Treeman to practice.
Brice returned from the workroom, looking mentally weary and mumbling about air, water, fire, and earth. His fingernails looked singed by fire, his shirt had black smudges and small burn holes, and without saying anything, he went directly to his bedroom, his eyes blank.
Maude entered the main room and shrugged at Sara. “Learning is not always easy and can be painful.”
Sara turned her eyes to Prin. “Perhaps you should sit in with them and maybe learn something?”
Maude said, “You’re both welcome. It may show you how your sometimes adversaries do things, but the training is for a mage so you won’t be able to duplicate any. Besides, you will both have all you can do to keep up with me when your turns arrive in a few weeks.”
Prin returned Sara’s questioning look and then said, “Still, I’d like to watch.”
Maude agreed, but added, “Like Sara, I believe the most important thing you can do to help yourself is read. You are a stumbling beginner, but if half of every day is dedicated to reading, your skills will improve quickly.”
Sara said, “I have a question. In one of the journals, there was a spell about growing hair.”
“There are many, perhaps hundreds of spells to make a woman more beautiful,” Maude said. “I haven’t bothered learning any because they seem useless to me, but then, I’ve never shaved my head.”
“Can we take a look at one?” Sara asked.
“Oh, more than one, dear. You see, I catalog every spell, by the type of spell, the sorceress I learned it from, the category, and even the major ingredients. Any of those may point me to a spell I first learned at your age but never used again. I consider cataloging and cross-cataloguing as important as learning. Of what use is a spell if you cannot recall the ingredients or incantation? Or where to find it?”
Sara wiped her hand over her head along the black stubbles sprouting. “This used to be silky black and hung half way down my back.”
“And Prin was blonde, I see. It’s time to either shave it off again or do something about it.”
“Do something,” Sara squealed.
“Tomorrow. After I work with Brice. But now, I have another task. Forgive me for a moment.” Maude walked into her bedroom and returned wearing a long gray robe decorated with a bright red leather belt. She wore a floppy hat with artificial flowers springing from it, and her face was several shades darker, her nose bulbous, and her skin wrinkled.
Prin said, “What are you doing?”
“Going for a walk.”
After the door had closed behind her, Prin said, “What was that all about?”
Sara smirked. “I think she is going to find Jam. She didn’t want to be recognized.”