Chapter 17
Thanks to extra practice, Kip finally possessed the skill to make living beings disappear. Now, if ordered, he could make Winnie vanish. Not that he’d do it. The girl might be trouble, but she was all he had from his world. As she lay sleeping on his laboratory cot, ten feet away, she looked so peaceful and, dare he add, gentle?
Surely, the magic to change her attitude existed within the obedience spells book. Cool damp air rustled his candle flame, making the words on the browned pages appear to dance. The symbols looked more complicated than he’d expected.
He sighed. If Winnie only tried harder to get on with the queen, he wouldn’t have to resort to enchantments. Although he had to admit he admired how she stood up to authority. If he dared do the same with his own parents, a bag-boy job might not be waiting for him when he and Winnie returned home. If they returned.
“What are you doing?” Willum said from the window sill.
Kip jumped at getting caught looking at his sleeping damsel. He returned his attention to the incantation book. “Research.”
Willum toddled across the open pages. He cocked his head at the printing. “You’ve got the wrong book.”
Thunder grumbled in the distance, echoing Kip’s own irritation. He knew he had the right ruddy book. It promised spells of obedience.
“Love potions are in that one.” Willum pointed his beak toward a red volume, resting on the floor beside the desk.
“What are you on about? I don’t want that.”
The bird cackled. “Yes, you do.”
Kip shook his head in firm denial. He didn’t see Winnie in that way. At least he didn’t believe he did. Still, Willum’s suggestion sent a flutter tickling across his chest.
He laid the red book on top of the one on obedience and flipped through it. For research purposes only. The idea that Winnie might find him attractive held a certain appeal. If she fell in love with him, she might not act so prickly toward the queen. But a potion wasn’t true love, and what was the point of love if it wasn’t true? Then again, did he even want love? Especially when Winnie could be so contrary. Kip drummed his long fingers over the printing, trying to decide.
Willum hopped onto Kip’s shoulder. “What are you waiting for?”
Kip hissed for silence. “She’s sleeping.”
“I’ll bite her nose. That’ll wake her. Then we can make all the noise we want.”
“Leave her be. She needs rest.”
“She can hear you,” Winnie said in a drowsy voice.
He slapped the love-potion book closed. “Nothing,” he blurted. A surge of hot guilt shot through him. He shoved the book under his desk.
She propped herself on her elbows. “Where am I?”
“Me lab,” he said, glad for the change in topic. “Like it?”
He watched her scan the room. Her gaze paused at the room’s highlights. The skull, used as a candle holder—what self-respecting wizard didn’t own one of those? Her attention moved to the shelving filled with ancient tomes—real wizards never called them books. Finally, she stared at the Bunsen burner where rainwater heated for tea.
Her stare moved full circle, landing on him. “Why do you need a lab?”
Willum flapped his wings. “She isn’t very bright, is she? In fact, she’s quite dim. Are you sure you want—”
Kip clamped his fingers around Willum’s beak before the bird mentioned the word love. “I heard the cook’s making your favorite meat pies tonight.”
He let his familiar struggle for a bit before he let go of his beak and shooed him out the window.
“Did you teach that bird to say I’m stupid?”
He forced a laugh. “Don’t mind Willum. If it’s not a shiny coin, it’s dim. That’s just the way birds think.”
“Har har.” Winnie stood and combed her fingers through her ruffled hair. “How’d I get here?”
“The guards carried you up after you fell asleep.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Did you hypnotize me?”
“It was a sleep incantation, actually. I needed to stop you from offending the queen. You’re welcome.”
“There’s no such thing as sleep incantations.”
“If you don’t dial it back a bit, Queen Bogen might order your execution.”
Her eyes widened but only briefly. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Her threat is just as real as me magic. Now, I could put a convincement spell on you to make you believe me, but I’d rather you believed me because I’m right.”
“You’ll have to show me something that doesn’t look like a trick if you want me to believe.” Before he could conjure a spell to sway her, she marched to the door.
“Wait, don’t go yet.” He raised his hand and muttered a hold spell.
Her body went stiff. “Why can’t I move?” Since her mouth still worked, he hadn’t completely mastered the spell.
“Please, don’t go.” He murmured the words to release her. Louder, he said, “I’m serious about the queen. She is not pleased with you.”
She stumbled forward, caught her balance, and slowly faced him. Her eyes looked rounder than he’d ever seen them. “You really can do spells.”
Had he finally convinced her? “Um, well, you know.” He shrugged. “Probably something in the air, but yeah, I can cast the odd one or two.”
Her deer-in-the-headlights expression immediately morphed into full-on confidence. “Excellent! Then your magic can make the queen agree to let the palm fight this war.”
“That particular spell won’t work on subjects who believe strongly. And Queen Bogen feels passionately about protecting the palum.”
“I want to protect them too, but they’re part horse. A horse’s hoof can knock a person out. And if you’ve ever been bitten by one, they can leave a scar. I have one to prove it.”
“We’ll never convince the queen to use palm in a war. Sorry.”
“Can you at least cast a spell to see how far away the lurk in are? Oh! And while you’re at it, find out what they look like.”
“I don’t know the spell for distance yet, but maybe we can see them. I’ve got a crystal ball.” Kip retrieved it from the cabinet under the window. “It’s got a crack. Hopefully, that won’t affect what we see.”
A thunderclap made them both jump.
“So it might work?”
“We’ll give it a go, shall we?” He carried the palm-sized ball to the table by his unlit fireplace. Droplets began to ping off the metal roof. Soon a wall of water gushed past the tower window.
“The storm won’t last,” he shouted over the noise. “They never do. Sit there.” He nodded at the overstuffed chair beside the table.
Winnie bounced onto it as he pulled up a dusty ottoman for himself. He laid the clear ball on the table, the cracked side facing down. “Right. Here goes.”
He gently clasped the crystal orb in his fingertips and peered into it.
“Shouldn’t it sit on a base or something?”
“No.”
“Aren’t you at least supposed to wave your arms around?”
He scowled. “Shh. Just look into it.”
“I’m not magical. How am I supposed to see anything?”
He let out a sigh and looked up. “If you’d give me a second to concentrate, I might be able to bring up something we both can see.”
“Oh. Sorry. Okay.”
He lowered his head again. The pattering rain relaxed his mind. He peered deeply into the glass, allowing his eyes to fall out of focus. Please show us what needs to be seen. The silent chant played in his mind. After multiple repetitions the crystal clouded into a gray mist that slowly swirled. Winnie gasped, but the sound didn’t break his concentration. Please show us what needs to be seen.
The churning mist spun faster, condensing into an image of a creature with an oval-shaped body that stood on eight spindly legs. Kip’s mouth dropped open. Blimey, can’t believe that worked.