Master Robbie shared a chunk of dried roast boar from his bowl with her. In return she passed him a heaping spoonful of beets.
She wished the table were round so she could view everyone. As it was, she couldn’t see most of those on the side with her. She had a partial view of Master Uwald only because Master Robbie didn’t entirely block him, and she saw that his face was still locked in anger.
Johan-bee, who had been replaced as a door guard, and Dror-bee, with Mistress Sirka faithfully at his side, sat across from Elodie. As she watched, Mistress Sirka served Dror-bee pottage and slipped in the bolus, the herbal love pill that Master Robbie had seen. Or this one could be made of other herbs, poisonous ones. She did it cleverly, holding the palm of her hand level with the lip of the bowl. High Brunka Marya, staring into space above everyone’s head, didn’t see. Only Johan-bee’s eyes and Elodie’s were on Mistress Sirka’s hand.
He said nothing.
Should she let it go, too, and see what happened, in case it might be connected with the theft of the Replica?
No! She couldn’t let him be poisoned. What to do?
Dror-bee lifted his spoon.
“Dror-bee?”
The spoon hovered above his bowl. “Yes?”
What to say? “Er . . . does your father’s farm grow cabbages?”
“Yes.” The spoon didn’t move, but it wouldn’t stay still forever.
“What’s the biggest one he ever grew?” Farmers competed.
He put down the spoon and smiled and made a circle of his arms out across Mistress Sirka’s face and the face of the bee next to him. “It weighed more than you.”
Master Robbie stared at Elodie. Albin grinned, certainly knowing she was mansioning.
But what to do? Mmm.
He picked up his spoon.
She picked up an egg. Let this work! It didn’t have far to travel.
He dipped his spoon into the bowl.
She squeezed the oiled egg, which flew out of her hand, across the table, and landed in his pottage, splashing broth, herbs, beans, and shreds of meat.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Count Jonty Um was able to go faster as himself than as a horse. His ogre brain could make quicker judgments about where to step; his long legs fairly ate up the ground, the ankle-deep snow hardly an obstacle. He had to stop only once, when the ground shook and stones popped through the snow. But the paroxysm lasted only a few seconds. The earth settled, and he was off again, his heart drumming in his ears.
In less than an hour he found the stand of evergreens, the cottage with the blue stool next to the door, and the lunatic pacing and shouting outside. Fee fi! When the man saw His Lordship, he cowered and gibbered softly.
Pity won against the count’s anger at being feared. He hurried to the stand of trees and waited until the ranting began again, which he hoped meant he’d been forgotten. Before shape-shifting, he wished he’d left his clothes with Widow Fridda. There was nothing for it, however. Telling himself over and over what he had to do, hoping the strategy would succeed, he shifted.
A minute later a monkey, smiling an enormous merry smile, stepped out from behind the trees. The man laughed to see him, a happy, ordinary laugh. The monkey held out his hand. The man took it and exchanged his shouts for coos and soft babbling. They started down the mountain, the monkey comically raising his feet out of the snow with every step.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Masteress Meenore flew laboriously above the southern slope of Zertrum. Without sleep last night and with little sleep the night before, IT feared nodding off and falling out of the sky.
Below lay farmland such as IT hadn’t seen before on Lahnt, which seemed impoverished everywhere else: neat fields fenced into squares, orchards, and a house, a large structure of stone and wood, surrounded by barns, sheds, and several wattle-and-daub cottages. A drift of pigs, dozens of them, wandered among the buildings, rooting through the snow. This must be Master Uwald’s Nockess Farm.
Curious, IT circled high enough not to be heard. At this height and with the sun near the horizon, ITs shadow became near invisible.
Supervised by a plump man with a pronounced limp, laborers brought goods out of the house and loaded two sledges that were hitched to oxen. What idiocy! The people should have been saving themselves. The limping man should already have ridden an ox or a horse out of danger.
Who was he, to be giving orders when the master and his steward were away?
On the mountain above the house, a dozen shepherds were driving flocks of geese, sheep, and goats slowly through the snow. More fools.
IT heard a deep groan. The entire slope undulated, then returned to solidity, but altered. A cottage collapsed. The pigs galloped here and there, squealing. A jagged crack divided the field that the herders had been crossing. Several sheep disappeared into the crack. The beasts ran in all directions. A goatherd lay trapped, his legs hidden beneath a boulder.
Zertrum’s peak glowed red as if it were the mouth of a fellow dragon.
IT stopped circling and flew south toward the Oase and Elodie and the villain Tuomo.
But the trapped man plagued IT. The other herders wouldn’t be able to lift the boulder. To dig him out would take time, if they’d stay to do it, and, meanwhile, there might be more tremors.
IT thought, I am no fairy god-dragon. The idiot herder should have fled at the first sign of the volcano. Elodie needs me.
But IT would blame ITself if the man died. IT turned and beat ITs way back to the mountain.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
“Oh my! I’m sorry! My hands were greasy.” Elodie stood. “Let me get you a clean bowl.”
Ludda-bee jumped up, too. “Look! A fellow oaf, Johan. Sit, girl. I’ll clean up.” She hurried into the kitchen, trailed by another bee.
Elodie sat.
“The girl isn’t awkward.” Mistress Sirka smiled her blazing, untamed smile at Elodie. “She contrived it. I was putting a love potion in your pottage, Dror, love.”
“What?” Dror-bee looked confused. “You did?”
“You want a sign.” She touched his cheek softly with the back of her hand. “It’s a sign I love you.”
Elodie looked away, turned back again, didn’t know where to fix her eyes.
Master Uwald said dryly, “We’d all have had the sign when he shared from his bowl.”
“I’d have liked to try it,” Master Robbie said.
Smiles around the table.
Albin whispered, “Lady El, you’ve made a conquest.”
She blushed.
Master Uwald said, “A love potion is dangerous, son, and who knows what was really in it.”
Sounding actually genial, Master Tuomo said, “I think you don’t need it, boy.”
Master Robbie blushed.
His big eyes shining, Dror-bee smiled at Mistress Sirka.
“Do you think you might love me again?” she asked.
“Again?” Master Tuomo roared. “He loved you before? You took the Replica! The two of you, to punish the family that spurned him. Where is it?”
Angry and prosperous, Elodie thought, unconvinced that Mistress Sirka was the thief.
“I would have taken it.” Mistress Sirka leaned across the table toward Master Tuomo. “Hair and teeth! If he wanted revenge, I would have taken the Replica if I could.”
“But I’ve had my sign.” Dror-bee turned to the high brunka. “Marya, I’m finished being a bee, now that I know a brunka can stop me from doing what pleases me: helping farmers.”
Mistress Sirka’s face was suffused with happiness.
Ludda-bee returned with a clean bowl and a cloth, which she spread over the stained patch of tablecloth.
“High Brunka,” Master Tuomo said, “what do you think of Sirka as the thief?”
“Dear Master Tuomo . . .” The high brunka sounded weary. “One or two of you took it, which includes you, Mistress Sirka, sweet. But I haven’t singled you out. However, I’m willing to entertain accusations.?
??
To Elodie’s surprise, Dror-bee—Goodman Dror now—spoke. “I have one, but he’s just a boy.”
Elodie felt Master Robbie straighten next to her.
Goodman Dror continued. “I doubt he did it. You must know, Marya. You, too, Deeter and Master Uwald.”
Master Uwald snapped, “That has nothing to do with this.”
“What, er, Grand?”
“Nothing. Never mind.”
“What, High Brunka?”
Her face was regretful. “Pup, your grandfather was the original thief.”
Lambs and calves!
“He was?”
Did he really not know? Elodie wondered.
Deeter-bee said, “History rarely circles back so neatly.”
“Why didn’t Grandmother tell me?”
“He’s too young to steal anything.” Ursa-bee glared at Goodman Dror.
“I didn’t say he did it!”
“Of course he didn’t.” Master Uwald stood, then sat. “The subject is closed. Robbie, eat your pottage.”
Master Robbie whispered urgently to Elodie, “I’m not a thief.”
What if he is? she thought.
She could barely credit it, and she wondered if Goodman Dror had told about the grandfather just to make everyone forget Master Tuomo’s accusation.
Still, what if Master Robbie had placed the handkerchief that weeps in the Turtle Room? He might have known about it and stolen it before the high brunka showed it to him and Master Uwald. The Oase’s relics weren’t a secret. Or his accomplice might have taken the handkerchief before they became partners. Master Robbie would be an excellent choice as the one to place it and start it weeping—agile, quick, light on his feet.
But why?
With the money from the Replica, he wouldn’t have to live with Master Uwald.
Ludda-bee said, “Johan, you are an ugly sight, chewing with that tooth medicine bumping up and down in your cheek. You should take it out at mealtimes.”
He did nothing! Elodie thought indignantly.
Johan-bee’s face reddened alarmingly. “No matter what, you make fun of me. A mountain may explode, but you still mock me.” He reached for the wheel of cheese and threw it at Ludda-bee, who raised her arm just in time.
High Brunka Marya cried, “Johan, no one means—”
“Hold your tongue, Marya!”
Elodie gasped.
He continued, “You never helped me.”
“I want you to help yourself.”
“And now I am.” He heaved the tureen of pottage across the table.
Luckily, the pottage had cooled. Elodie’s cloak was spattered. Oatmeal and beans pocked Master Robbie’s face, cap, and shoulders. The tureen itself hit Master Uwald in the shoulder.
Everyone but High Brunka Marya jumped up and backed away. Even Deeter-bee moved swiftly. Johan picked up the long bench, too long for him to control, and swung it wildly. People dived under the table or ducked. Elodie grabbed Master Robbie’s hand as Albin pulled her out of range.
Calmly but loudly, the high brunka said, “Stop this, Jo—”
The bench continued its wild sweep and cracked her on the head. She fell.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Four herders surrounded the trapped man. One tipped a flask into his mouth so he might drink. Masteress Meenore flew lower, and all looked up, their mouths O’s of astonishment. Surprise gave way to speed. Except for the trapped fellow, they fled, although the snow hindered them. They stumbled or fell entirely but were up again instantly, propelled by fear.
IT landed and tried to ignore the growling mountain.
The trapped herder shouted wordlessly, then coughed as ITs scent reached him. He choked out, “Don’t . . . eat . . . me!”
ITs smoke went from blue to red, shame to anger. “That is what you fear at this juncture? You are hoping for one sort of death over another?” IT lumbered to the boulder and tried to lift it, but the boulder—squarish, taller than a man, shot through with orange veins—weighed too much.
“You’re saving me?” The man let out a moan of pain.
Panting, IT puffed out, “First I must slice off slabs to lighten your captor. You will have time to enjoy my perfume.” Enh enh enh.
The task would take an hour or more. ITs tail twitched impatiently.
“I am about to flame at the boulder, not at you.”
Deep in ITs chest, ITs fire bellows expanded and contracted. A thick jet of white shot across a corner of the boulder.
Fire and smoke! This rock was dense. IT swallowed ITs flame to look. The line etched into the stone penetrated only about half a foot.
“We will be together for a while, Goodman . . .”
“Hame.” His voice sounded strained. The pain must have been intense.
“And I am Masteress Meenore.”
“Thank you for helping me.” Another moan.
Helping you at the expense of time I cannot spare. While IT flamed again, IT used ITs common sense. Goodman Hame’s information about Master Tuomo and his sons would be firsthand, unlike Brunka Arnulf’s.
When IT stopped flaming, the gash had more than doubled in depth.
“I must rest a moment.” A lie. Flaming didn’t tire IT. “We may indulge in conversation. This is Nockess Farm, is it not?”
Goodman Hame nodded.
“Brunka Arnulf informed me that Master Tuomo’s sons are gone from the estate. Is that so?”
He nodded again.
“I suppose Master Tuomo sent them on some errand.”
He shook his head.
Mmm. “No? Then why did they leave?”
Goodman Hame spoke with difficulty. “Master Uwald sent them to his cousin’s wedding because he had to travel to Zee and couldn’t go.”
“Do you know if Master Tuomo was present when the order was given?”
“Only Master Uwald.”
IT flamed again, ITs mind as afire as ITs snout. Uwald?
“He told us . . .” Goodman Hame forced the words out. “All of us herders and servants . . .”
“Yes?”
“. . . to take a holiday while he was away.” He paused for breath. “But Master Tuomo was there then, and he said the farm couldn’t spare us. . . .” Another pause. “He may have killed me. . . . Curse him!”
Curses on the wrong man. It was Uwald! But why destroy his own land? “You are not yet a corpse.”
“And now . . . someone has come who says he’s our new master.”
Master Uwald sold his farm? And then decided to destroy it? No . . . Oho! Not sold. Master Uwald had lost Nockess Farm in a wager. His luck had failed him.
IT flamed again and sliced through the remaining stone. The chunk fell away, but the boulder remained too heavy.
“Goodman Hame, is the man with the limp the new owner?”
He nodded.
IT considered flying off and leaving Goodman Hame to the mountain’s mercy. Better to reach the Oase and Uwald in time. But despite the reasonableness of sacrificing one to save many, IT found that IT couldn’t leave the man.
Had affection for Elodie softened ITs resolve and soaked ITs heart in sentiment?
IT flamed again at the boulder. Master Uwald, old and frail as he was, couldn’t have acted alone. Two thieves, without a doubt. Who was his accomplice?
When IT stopped to view ITs progress, Goodman Hame interrupted ITs thoughts.
“Beg pardon . . . Are you a boy dragon or a girl dragon? Boy, right?”
How quickly terror fades, IT thought regretfully. IT flamed again. If Master Uwald stole the Replica he’d still be rich, but the winner would own the land after the mountain cooled. However, if the winner were on Zertrum when the volcano spewed, he would very likely perish. So Master Uwald must have promised to cede the property on a certain date.
Of course, the man might ride his horse off the mountain at the first tremor. However, Master Uwald knew the winner’s character and predicted he’d stay on his new property as long as he believed
he might, which would really be too long, and the evidence of the bet, presumably in the winner’s possession, would be incinerated with him.
IT couldn’t be sure if the fateful bet had occurred before or after Master Uwald knew Master Robbie would be his ward, but IT suspected that the game took place after.
Master Uwald’s plan had been clever, even diabolical.
IT swore that in one respect, at least, the plot would fail.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
People rushed to High Brunka Marya. Elodie would have, too, but Albin held her in place. Master Uwald, who had a similar grip on Master Robbie, remained with them.
Elodie wondered what her masteress would expect her to do.
Think, Lodie!
She didn’t know what to think.
Observe, Lodie!
That she could do.
The pairs of bees who guarded the interior exits had left their posts.
Lambs and calves! The rainbow colors over the entry door were gone. Was the high brunka dead?
No one else seemed to have noticed the door.
Mistress Sirka cried, “She’s breathing!”
Elodie broke free of Albin and pushed into the crowd.
Mistress Sirka sat on the floor. Gently, she lifted High Brunka Marya’s shoulders and head into her lap. “Someone, get my sack. Hurry!” She touched the violet bump that was rising on High Brunka Marya’s forehead.
Two bees hurried out of the hall. The high brunka’s mouth hung open. Her skin had a yellow cast, unlike its usual ruddy tone. Contrasted with her slack jaw, her eyes were squeezed shut. Her fingertips looked ordinary, without any sign of rainbows.
“Can I help?” Ursa-bee hovered behind Mistress Sirka’s shoulder.
Standing near the high brunka’s knees, Johan-bee rocked back and forth. He bit his knuckles, his eyes wide and confused.
Ludda-bee, next to him, slapped him across the face, reaching high to do so. Then, sobbing into her apron, she broke out of the crowd. Johan-bee seemed not to notice the slap or her departure.