Read Online Magic Can Be Murder by Vivian Vande Velde - Free Book Online
Authors: Vivian Vande Velde
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that the silversmith's money was missing: The silver he had fashioned into jewelry and trinkets was still there, scattered about the floor and his body. But the strongbox was opened—indicating the silversmith had been compelled to show the thief where his money and unworked silver was hidden—and now it was empty. Yet Innis had shouted out in alarm just as the killer struck him. The question that seemed to be on everybody's lips was, How had the intruder, carrying all that money, gotten out of the house, out of the yard, and off the street so fast?
Nola knew there had been no intruder, but she also wondered, briefly, what Kirwyn had managed to do—before witnesses began arriving—with the contents of the strongbox. But a more important question was, What would this Lord Pendaran's agent assume the killer had done with the missing money? Everyone seemed convinced the murderer was an outsider; but, still, Nola guessed, a thorough search would have to include the silversmith's yard. A very thorough search might include the house.
What if the house had been searched already? What if she was already too late?
Nola began to seek out a place where she could be alone to work a spell, so that she could magically peek into the house to see what was happening, see if it was safe to return. There were certainly enough puddles from the night's rain. All she had to do was find one behind something, or in an out-of-the-way corner, or—
She was so busy craning her neck to see between the vendors' stalls that she walked into someone.
"Excuse me," she mumbled, still searching the ground off to the side.
"It's all right," said a voice she recognized. "But it's easier to see where you're going if your eyes and your feet are pointed in the same direction."
Nola looked up and found herself facing Brinna.
"I—I'm sorry," Nola stammered.
"It's all right," Brinna repeated. She smiled co show she really meant it, and for a moment Nola forgot that Brinna couldn't recognize her and saw only a ragged and dirty twelve-year-old boy, a clumsy stranger.
Seeing Brinna's familiar and friendly face, Nola had to fight the inclination to blurt out, "I need to calk to you. I know who killed Innis, and I fear your life is in danger, coo. Please crust me." But Nola herself trusted no one. How could she ask someone to have faith in her? She had spent too much of her life hiding secrets.
And then the moment was gone. One of che three young women clustered around Brinna elbowed Nola out of the way. "We were
talking,
" this one sneered, in that tone used solely by irate young women between che ages of thirteen and twenty to boys too young to be worth notice.
One of the others tugged on Brinna's arm, almost causing her to upend the basket in which she carried the items she had bought in the market, turnips and onions being what Nola caught a glimpse of. Brinna's friend demanded of Brinna, "Tell us about this man Galvin that Lord Pendaran sent."
Brinna turned away from Nola and answered, "I told you. He's asking about last night—"
"I don't mean
that
," the woman said. "I mean, what's he like?" And before Brinna could do more than open her mouth, the woman continued. "Reaghan says he's
very
attractive."
Brinna laughed. "Reaghan should know. She nearly fell out of the window trying to get a better look."
Reaghan must have been the one with the pointy elbows. She looked down her nose at the others and said, "Well, he was worth the risk. He has beautiful eyes."
"He does have kind eyes," Brinna agreed.
"And a very nice smile," Reaghan added.
"And
many
questions," Brinna said, indicating—Nola thought—more sense than all three of her friends combined.
The third friend said, "I don't know. If he looks as good as Reaghan says, I'd let him ask mc all the questions he wanted, and I'd admit to anything for him."
Empty-headed fools,
Nola thought. She'd heard accounts of how witches were questioned, and she didn't find amusing the thought of being
Nola knew there had been no intruder, but she also wondered, briefly, what Kirwyn had managed to do—before witnesses began arriving—with the contents of the strongbox. But a more important question was, What would this Lord Pendaran's agent assume the killer had done with the missing money? Everyone seemed convinced the murderer was an outsider; but, still, Nola guessed, a thorough search would have to include the silversmith's yard. A very thorough search might include the house.
What if the house had been searched already? What if she was already too late?
Nola began to seek out a place where she could be alone to work a spell, so that she could magically peek into the house to see what was happening, see if it was safe to return. There were certainly enough puddles from the night's rain. All she had to do was find one behind something, or in an out-of-the-way corner, or—
She was so busy craning her neck to see between the vendors' stalls that she walked into someone.
"Excuse me," she mumbled, still searching the ground off to the side.
"It's all right," said a voice she recognized. "But it's easier to see where you're going if your eyes and your feet are pointed in the same direction."
Nola looked up and found herself facing Brinna.
"I—I'm sorry," Nola stammered.
"It's all right," Brinna repeated. She smiled co show she really meant it, and for a moment Nola forgot that Brinna couldn't recognize her and saw only a ragged and dirty twelve-year-old boy, a clumsy stranger.
Seeing Brinna's familiar and friendly face, Nola had to fight the inclination to blurt out, "I need to calk to you. I know who killed Innis, and I fear your life is in danger, coo. Please crust me." But Nola herself trusted no one. How could she ask someone to have faith in her? She had spent too much of her life hiding secrets.
And then the moment was gone. One of che three young women clustered around Brinna elbowed Nola out of the way. "We were
talking,
" this one sneered, in that tone used solely by irate young women between che ages of thirteen and twenty to boys too young to be worth notice.
One of the others tugged on Brinna's arm, almost causing her to upend the basket in which she carried the items she had bought in the market, turnips and onions being what Nola caught a glimpse of. Brinna's friend demanded of Brinna, "Tell us about this man Galvin that Lord Pendaran sent."
Brinna turned away from Nola and answered, "I told you. He's asking about last night—"
"I don't mean
that
," the woman said. "I mean, what's he like?" And before Brinna could do more than open her mouth, the woman continued. "Reaghan says he's
very
attractive."
Brinna laughed. "Reaghan should know. She nearly fell out of the window trying to get a better look."
Reaghan must have been the one with the pointy elbows. She looked down her nose at the others and said, "Well, he was worth the risk. He has beautiful eyes."
"He does have kind eyes," Brinna agreed.
"And a very nice smile," Reaghan added.
"And
many
questions," Brinna said, indicating—Nola thought—more sense than all three of her friends combined.
The third friend said, "I don't know. If he looks as good as Reaghan says, I'd let him ask mc all the questions he wanted, and I'd admit to anything for him."
Empty-headed fools,
Nola thought. She'd heard accounts of how witches were questioned, and she didn't find amusing the thought of being
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