The bottom of the moat was lined with a thin layer of black mud and debris, and she could sec a few discarded odds and ends- a woman's hair clip, a wooden doll's crudely carved arm, a boot with the sole torn away. There was no bench in sight, nor did she think there was anywhere one might hide.
"What are you doing?" Kelder asked, stopping a few feet away while the chair wandered aimlessly about the street, the rope swinging back and forth as it moved.
Kilisha looked up from the moat to answer Kelder's question, and suddenly there it was, just around the curve of the street, clearly visible through the railing-the bench!
There were no spriggans clinging to it; it had apparently finally managed to dislodge them all. It did not seem to be in any great hurry; instead of the headlong dash she had seen before it was ambling along Fortress Street at no great speed, just inside the railing, heading directly toward them.
"There it is," she hissed to Kelder.
"I see it," he hissed back, crouching.
"Bench!" Sprigganalin shrieked.
"Augh!" Kilisha said, her left hand flying up and stopping just short of grabbing the spriggan by the throat. "Shut up!"
The bench had stopped dead at the sound of the spriggan's voice; it seemed to be wary, but it wasn't fleeing.
Yet.
"Circle around," Kilisha whispered to Kelder. "Get behind it."
"Right," he said, veering sideways across Fortress Street, while Kilisha stayed close to the railing.
The bench turned, keeping its front toward Kelder. "I think it recognizes him," Kilisha whispered to the spriggan.
"You bet!" the spriggan said cheerfully-and loudly. The bench abruptly swung back to face Kilisha.
It didn't like spriggans, Kilisha thought. That was why it had gone charging off, trying to dislodge them. If the spriggan kept talking the bench might run away again, frightened off by the sound of its voice.
For the present, though, its attention was focused on her and the spriggan, and Kelder was circling around it. He was on the far side of the street, creeping along the front of an ancient stone mansion, his eyes fixed on the bench.
"Do you think it sees us?" Kilisha asked the spriggan.
She knew perfectly well that the bench knew where they were-though "see" might be the wrong word, since it had no eyes. Just how animated objects perceived their surroundings was a mystery even to the wizards who created them; when customers asked, the universal reply was simply, "It's magic." She was just hoping to keep the furniture confused, unsure whether to flee, by asking foolish questions.
Kelder was now safely north of the bench, moving away from the facade toward the center of the street; if the bench tried to run he should be able to grab it. Kilisha slid her hand along the iron rail and took a step forward, around the curve to where she could look at the bench without the railing between them.
"Why, hello there, bench!" she said. "Do you remember me? You used to stand in the parlor of my master's house."
The bench took a step back. Kelder moved across the street behind it, getting ready to lunge. Kilisha slid farther along the railing.
The bench backed away another longer, faster step, then started to run-but Kelder was coming up behind it, so it changed direction quickly, trying to double back south, past Kilisha.
That was exactly what Kilisha had hoped for. She ran northward past the bench, then cut east, across the street.
And the bench ran into the rope strung between Kilisha's hand and the chair.
The impact was enough to jerk Kilisha's hand painfully, and the chair toppled over completely and lay thrashing in the dirt.
Kilisha wasted no time in racing around behind the bench, encircling it in the rope, before it could step over the rope or slide under it. The chair was dragged up against the bench, entangling the two pieces so that neither could move freely, and allowing Kilisha to spiral in, wrapping the rope around them both and tying them together.
"There," she said, satisfied with her performance. She called to Kelder, "Now, sir, could you give me a hand?"
A few minutes later the bench was tied securely to one end of the rope, the chair to the other, and Kilisha held the center in both hands, leading the reluctant furniture back down the hillside toward Wizard Street.
Sometimes the two pieces cooperated, and sometimes they didn't; holding them was often a struggle, and more than once Kilisha had to call for Kelder's help in holding onto the rope. She almost wished she had used the Spell of Optimum Strength. By the time they got safely back to Ithanalin's shop they were exhausted-but more of the furniture was back where it belonged, and Kilisha was pleased.
Chapter Seventeen
Kilisha did not trust the bench and chair; they had put up too much of a fight. The chair seemed glad to be home, running around the parlor like a puppy rediscovering familiar surroundings, but all the same, Kilisha made sure the door was closed and locked before she let go of the rope for even an instant.
And she didn't untie cither piece at first; instead she looped the rope around the door latch and left Kelder to guard it while she went to make more permanent arrangements. The line holding the coat-rack was tied to a lamp bracket, but somehow Kilisha doubted that would be strong enough to hold the bench; she wanted to find something that would be.
Yara had heard the noise of her return, and the thumping and rattling as the bench and chair moved around the parlor; she met Kilisha in the workshop, worried by the racket but eager to know what was happening.
"I got them, Mistress," Kilisha explained, pointing. "Kelder had them locked up, and I stupidly let them out, but we followed them and caught them again. Now we need to tie them up so they won't get away again, but I'm not sure how to do it."
"Them?" Yara peered past her into the parlor.
Kelder waved cheerily at her, and Yara retreated slightly.
"The chair and the bench," Kilisha explained. "We still need to find the couch. And right now I'm trying to think what we can tie these two to. I don't want them in the workshop; they might break things or spill something."
"I don't want them in the kitchen, either, or anywhere upstairs," Yara agreed. "They belong in the parlor."
"But there's nothing solid to tie them to in the parlor!"
"Oh." Yara considered for a moment, then turned up a palm. "I'm sure you'll think of something. I'd best go tell the children what's happening."
"Yes, Mistress," Kilisha said, suppressing a sigh. She looked around the workshop, but inspiration failed to strike.
From the doorway, Kelder said, "I overheard. Really, they should be secured to the house itself, if there's any way to do that."
"I don't see any way," Kilisha said. "Not in the parlor."
Kelder turned and gazed critically about, then suggested, "You could run a rope out the door and back in a window, then tie the furniture to both ends, making a loop. That would hold them."
"But then we couldn't close the door or the window," Kilisha said, stepping up to him and pointing.
Kelder, startled, looked at the front door and realized she was right.
"The barracks doors generally don't fit their frames that well," he said apologetically. "There's room enough for a rope underneath most of them."
"The barracks isn't the home of a respectable wizard," Kilisha retorted.
"This time of year, you could leave the door open-"
"No," Kilisha said instantly. Keeping the captured pieces in the house was quite enough to worry about with the door securely closed.
"Well, then, I don't know."
"I'll think of something," Kilisha said. "Can you stay for a little while longer, and help out? We still need to secure these, and find the couch."