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Aric sighed.
Emrys hopped up to sit on the counter, one leg swinging. “What’s your name?”
“Er…Denys?”
“Denys. You’re a better magician than you think you are.” Em waved a hand; one of the small silver moon-charms twirled upright and began to spin. It was a message about power, though not an unfriendly one. Denys watched it.
Em said, “He came in, and he had a piece of wood from the bridge, and something—a bit of cloth, a receipt, whatever it was—from Lady Caris’s business, and you set up a charm that would tell him when those wagons were on that bridge, and when to snap the piece of wood. Right?”
“It truly wasn’t supposed to work. I didn’t do the ill-wishing part.” Denys looked at her pleadingly. “I don’t do that sort of thing. Little cantrips, luck tokens, minor healing…I’m an excellent midwife and I’m good with herbs and healing…if clients ask for curses I only pretend, and I do tell them that it might not work, the magic’s unpredictable, and they understand…”
“So you lie to them,” Aric summarized, “and take their money.”
“The problem is,” Em said, and flipped the moon-token into the air without touching it, “you actually are decently powerful, for someone human, and you did set up the resonance part, and someone with enough intention, enough emotion, can push their ill-wishing through that connection, even if you didn’t do it yourself. It’d take a lot of emotion, but it’s possible.”
“Oh dear.”
“Which is why you no longer have a bridge,” Aric said.
“My master never told me anything about that…I don’t think she knew it was possible…but then we were never very powerful, or we thought not…” Denys gulped. “Are you going to kill me?”
“Why would we do that?” Em tossed the moon-token upward and caught it, still without hands. “You made a mistake. It happens. I think you’re trying hard, and you’re pretty good at caring for your people. This doesn’t have much power, but it’s nice silver-work, by the way.”
“Thank you?”
“Look,” Aric said, “just don’t do it again, all right? In fact, stop doing any sort of curse-magic. Even if you never meant it. Tell people we threatened you, if you want an excuse.”
Denys nodded, very fast.
“We’re not threatening you,” Em said. “Well, no, we will if we have to. But I’d rather not. I like having friends.” She didn’t say it as a threat; she said it simply, because it was true, and Aric saw that truth in her face. “I’ve been realizing that, lately. Did you say there was cake?”
“Yes,” Denys said meekly. “Would you like cake, Shadow?”
“Oh, call me Emrys.” Em put the moon-charm down. “Since we’re friends.”
The spice cake was delicious, and Denys brewed very good elderflower-blackberry tea, and promised to behave; he regarded Em with wide-eyed deference, and treated Aric and Aric’s sword with respect, and also asked whether either of them would like to borrow any books, which was a nice change from the usual assumption that Aric did not do the reading, of the two of them. Em accepted a travel-sized volume of tree-lore, plus a tiny packet of herbs Denys swore was the best for magical backlash, before they departed.
The sun was lowering, sending streaks of gemstone color across the skies: violet, amber, scarlet, nearly as vibrant as Sudgarth’s rooftops. The wedding-celebration bounced and clamored from the square: musicians, laughter, lit torches and lanterns, dancing feet.
Aric put an arm around Em’s shoulders. “Headache?”
“A bit. Mostly gone. I’ll try his infusion and see if it helps.”
“I can brew it for you. Think Duke Arthur’ll let us stay in the main hall? A fancy bedroom?”
“I think he’d say yes to anything you asked, if you’ll show him some new sword-fighting techniques.” Their steps matched, the usual rhythm, over cobbled streets.
“Want to stop by the party, or do you want to lie down?”
“Oh, party,” Em said, grinning, “just for a few minutes. We can say hi to Caris. And request the rest of our fee. And we should tell the Duke to keep an eye on his local magician. I think Denys is harmless, but just in case.”
“Agreed. You know, Caris was right about you.”
Em stopped walking. “About me? What about me?”
“You’re not a bad teacher. Working with her on focus and grounding, being kind to poor Denys…”
“All I did was talk to him! And he dropped a book on his own foot!”
