Whispered Magics (5 page)

Zarja jerked her chin up and down, looking horribly like a
bobbing wooden toy. “I saw it. And then the First Scribe came out, and she too
was laughing . . .” The Princess’s mouth quivered and she buried her face in
her hands.

“Statues?” Kimet said again, and moved to the nearest slit
window. She could see the royal garden from this tower. Yes. There, right in
the middle of the roses, stood two new statues, marble-veined white. One was
tall and fat, the frosty white crown spiked exactly like the King’s golden
crown, and the other figure was short, arrogant of stance even in stone, chin
up at a haughty angle, the folds of her long brocade dressing gown now hardened
into smooth marble.

Guards ringed the two statues, and other servants as well.

Nobody stood at attention, the guards straight with their
weapons held just so, the servants with bowed heads and meek attitudes. They
looked like they were on holiday, guards chatting with servants, and the sound
of an occasional laugh echoed up the stone wall as a plump laundry-woman poured
out wine and passed the glasses. Three or four servants and guards lifted the
glasses, sometimes to the King, mostly to the Queen, their laughter sharp and
triumphant. With violent motions they tossed off their drinks and then poured
again from dusty bottles Kimet recognized from the royal wine cellar.

Behind them several servants stood, shoulders hunched, faces
twitching from side to side, as if they didn’t know what to do.

Kimet turned away. “I don’t understand.”

“Don’t you see, you thick-witted lump?” Zarja retorted. “The
Master Wizard, the Captain of the Guard. They are all evil traitors. They’ve
taken over the kingdom. And they want to find me so he can put me out there in
the garden, too.”

Kimet looked out again, struggling to understand why. Family
loyalty forced the words out, though even as she spoke her shoulders tightened
against the expected whack. “Master Elcan’s so kind,” she said. “And wise.”

“Was so kind,” the Princess corrected, her voice trembling
again.

They were startled by the sound of the Wizard’s voice outside.
Kimet joined Zarja at the window, and they stood side by side, staring down into
the garden.

“Come, come,” the Wizard said briskly, clapping his hands.
“Why are you all standing about? There is work to be done! Beginning with
finding the Princess. Bring her directly to me.”

The crowd began to disperse, some talking in low voices, others
glancing back at the sun-touched statues, their expressions varying from
worried to smug.

Zarja sniffed again. It was her mother’s hissy sniff, through
her long, pointy nose that was just like the Queen’s. “Who could ever have
thought Master Elcan could be so evil underneath?”

“Evil?” Kimet repeated.

“Will you stop being an echo?” the Princess demanded, dashing
her tears away with an imperious gesture. “If you have to talk, say something
that will help. Or better, make yourself useful and get me something to eat.”

Kimet returned to her first question. “And if they ask if I
have seen you?”

“You tell them you haven’t, of course,” the Princess said
impatiently.

“But that would be lying. We get the stick if we lie.”

“You’re not lying, you’re doing what you’re told. By me.
Princess Zarja. Queen Zarja now. I’m the Queen now, and . . .” The Princess’s
lips parted, and her red, puffy eyes filled again with tears.

Kimet paused, uncertain whether to go or to stay. As Zarja
buried her face in handfuls of her brocade skirts, Kimet thought about the
Master Wizard. His intent face with the wild fringe of silver hair fluffing
round his bald pate, his willingness to do little things to make the servants
laugh, did not match her idea of an evil man. However, turning the King and
Queen into statues did seem an evil act. Was he now going to go through the
Kingdom, turning people into statues and potted plants right and left?

Kimet thought of her parents, night guard and laundry-woman
respectively at the palace of the Duke and Duchess of Rivarand. Mama’s cousin
had married Master Elcan’s sister, and it was the Master Wizard himself who had
made it possible for Kimet to get the royal palace job. Every poor family in
the kingdom wanted to get their children out of a grim future of poverty and
into the royal palace. The work was hard, but after five years, if you were
dependable and diligent, and practiced your chosen craft, you could interview
for places in your craft. If they liked your work, you only had to wait for a
place to open up. If you were lazy, careless, or disobedient, Steward Greb
would still get you your interview if your parents were important, but the
Wizard only got your interview if you were good at your job. No matter who you
were. And his word had always counted more.

Except if the Queen decided she didn’t want you promoted.

“Greb!”

Kimet started, looking wildly around, then her profile jerked
up as she stared at the window.

“Get him!”

“Catch him! We want our own statue!”

“Go round the other path. Stop him there!”

Zarja and Kimet jumped to the window. Below a tall, spare man
ran into view, his golden chain of office bouncing on his chest. The broad face
that to Kimet had seemed to have only two expressions—a frown of threat, or the
smirk of anticipation as he hefted his stick—was blanched with fear.

“Go find the Wizard,” howled someone from the mob of servants
chasing him. “He can set him up to decorate the midden heap!”

“Help! Help!” Steward Greb vanished around a shrub, his
pleading voice diminishing. The posse pelted after him, yelling his name, or
threats, or both.

“Who was that they were chasing?” Princess Zarja asked.

Kimet said in surprise, “Steward Greb.”

“What does he do?”

“Beat us.”

The Princess frowned, then her brow cleared. “Oh! He’s the
steward in charge of you servants. I never knew his name.”

Kimet tried to shake away the anger and fear that always
boiled in her stomach when she saw or heard Steward Greb. “No. That is, the
Queen put him in charge, but he never looked out for us. All he was interested in
was his stick, and any excuse to use it.”

Faintly, from the direction of the service end of the castle,
came a shout of triumph from many voices.

“They got him,” the Princess observed, sinking back down onto
the trunk. “Is the Wizard going to make statues of every important person?”

Kimet still could not believe that of Master Elcan. “Or just
those who . . .” She met the Princess’s gaze and halted.

Zarja flushed. “Why not just say it? Or just my family?”

Kimet shook her head. “I wasn’t thinking that. I wasn’t
thinking
who
so much as
why
.”

“What do you mean?” the Princess demanded.

Kimet turned away from the window and faced the Princess. “The
Master Wizard. The statues. Could it be like with the Master Cook’s son?”

Zarja looked up. “What?”

“The Master Cook’s son. You didn’t know about him?”

“What would
I
know
about a cook’s son? I don’t even know who the cook is, much less his or her
son!”

“I think maybe I should tell you about him.”

“I don’t want to hear about any stupid cook’s son,” Princess
Zarja snapped. “Go get me something to eat!”

Kimet’s heart began to thump faster than it had when she’d
woken up and found out how late it was. “I think I should tell you,” she said,
trying to keep her own voice steady. “And there’s no one to order to beat me,
because the servants are capturing Steward Greb, or drinking wine, or standing
in the garden laughing at those statues.”

Zarja’s lips pressed together into a white line.

Kimet’s knees wobbled and she had to sit down, even though
that was a serious breach of proper behavior, to sit in the presence of the
Princess. But so many rules had already been broken so far that morning she
wasn’t going to worry about this one. She plopped onto a barrel labeled
Worn List Slippers
.

“The Master Cook’s son,” she said, “never wanted to learn
anything. When the Head Carver would say,
Here’s
how your mother wishes us to carve the meats
, he’d go away, saying,
I don’t have to know that. I’m the Master
Cook’s son.
And if the Head Pastry-Maker said,
Here’s my secret recipe for the finest crust in all the Kingdom,
the response was,
I don’t have to know
that boring stuff because I’m the Master Cook’s son!
But then one day the
Master Wizard came in when he was telling the Head Vintner that he didn’t have
to learn how to choose wines because he was the Master Cook’s son, and the
Master Wizard didn’t say anything, but the next day we saw the Master Cook’s
son mucking out the royal stables.”

The Princess was still staring, her eyes wide and dark and her
mouth pressed in that thin line.

“So anyway,” Kimet finished uncertainly, “he’s not a cook’s
apprentice anymore, he’s a stable sweep.”

The Princess stated, her sharp cheekbones dark red, “If you’re
daring to say that I belong in a stable—”

“I didn’t say that,” Kimet stated. “I told you the story of
the Master Cook’s—”

“—son. Yes. I think I managed to gather that much.”

Silence. Zarja turned away, her chin on her hands.

Kimet slumped, embarrassed. What had sounded so wise in her
head had come out sounding stupid, judging by how angry the Princess was.

“Or,” Zarja’s voice snapped, “are you hinting that I ought to
sweeping the stables because I skimped my studies in order to go dancing or
boating or riding?”

“I think,” Kimet said, “they are still searching for you.”
To make you a statue.

She didn’t say it, but she knew from the Princess’s short
intake of breath that she was thinking the same words.

Zarja’s chin jerked up, and she glared at Kimet for a long,
nasty moment. “The war is to save my honor,” Zarja finally said, and rubbed her
eyes with hands that shook. “Prince Emik broke the marriage alliance our
parents made when we were born. After spending all last summer here, and all
the parties we gave him! He was so handsome, everyone wanted him, but he was
supposed to court
me
!” She clamped
her jaw, and tightened her fists again.

Kimet said, “What happened?”

“He wouldn’t kiss me. Even though I gave him gifts every day,
and had all his favorite foods cooked, and ordered the musicians to learn that
tweedle-tweedle music they like over there in his kingdom. I wore a new gown
every day. After the masquerade on New Year’s, at the midnight masking, he
refused to kiss me. He said it didn’t show proper respect. And I believed him.
I believed his smiles and pretty words right up until he got home, after being
escorted by Papa’s army to keep him safe from brigands, and Mama’s sister at
their court sent a secret letter along with the official one breaking the
alliance. It said that he entered King Orthan’s throne room and straight away
declared in front of all their nobility that he wouldn’t marry me even to
combine both kingdoms. Don’t you comprehend that that’s a royal insult,
requiring a royal thrashing to avenge my honor? An insult to me is an insult to
our entire kingdom, don’t you see?”

“No,” Kimet said. “Of course I don’t know anything about how
Kings and Princesses feel about things, but I know how other people feel. Even
the Master Wizard, a little, for he’s kin. And I don’t think he’d like to go
over to another kingdom and turn them all into frogs. I don’t think Captain
Dormar and the guards would like going over to thrash up their kingdom,
especially when a lot of the guards have family over there. Nobody would want
to end up fighting his brother or cousin. And what happens after? If you feel
royally insulted because Prince Emik doesn’t like you, their King is going to
feel even more royally insulted if we do all those things to them.”

“As well he should!”

“So what if he sends a bigger army over here to give us a
royal thrashing as payment for our royal thrashing? Or he sends his Court
Wizard to turn the rest of us into scorpions? Then everybody would be
miserable.”

“Except me. I’m really miserable now.” Zarja pointed at the
window. “And so are my parents. That is, before they were turned into stone.
Now they can’t feel. Or even breathe.”

Kimet had no answer for that.

Zarja sighed. “I can see that Papa might not have considered
the consequences of a war. But that’s because he’s used to relying on the
Master Wizard for . . .” She stopped, and frowned.

“For ruling?” Kimet said.

Zarja stood up, then sat down again. She turned away, turned
back, wrung her hands, then stared down at the rings on her fingers.

Kimet watched, her body poised to turn. To leave. The Princess
could not stop her. In fact, Kimet just had to go to the door or window and
yell, and the Guard would come pounding up to take the Princess.

Zarja trembled, the diamonds on her rings glimmering like
sunlight on water. She began speaking to those diamonds in a high, breathless
voice.

“When I was small he told me stories, sometimes weaving
magical illusions to make them exciting. Stories about my ancestors, and the
great things they had done. Sometimes he’d get terribly boring and preachy
about ‘responsibilities’ and ‘duties,’ as if I don’t know the royal schedule
better than anyone! But I was used to ignoring that from the Royal Tutors. And
then on my tenth birthday, he made me a magic carpet.
Fly, see the Kingdom
, he said to me.
Really see it, Zarja, see all that you will one day be responsible for
.
I flew up nearly to the clouds, and looked down at everything that will be mine
one day, and I never once felt scared. His magic was good magic. Strong magic.
It made me safe. It made the whole kingdom safe. Why, my father trusted him!
Whenever the least problem came along, he always said, right in front of the
court, that he relied on Master Elcan’s great wisdom!”