Read Online Magic Can Be Murder by Vivian Vande Velde - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Vivian Vande Velde
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and act.
She had to get into the silversmith's house, and she knew that Brinna was out among the market stalls telling everyone what had happened, and Kirwyn, Alan, and Lord Pendaran's man were in the shop. There might not be a better time. She climbed out over the guide rope that held the awning over the stall and made her way toward the street where the silversmith lived. Had lived.
If she was lucky, she would be in and out of the house in the time it would take to make up a bed and not a person would notice her. But just in case some neighbor
did
see her entering through the kitchen door, she had better look like someone who had a right to be there. She didn't want to look like a stranger, for fear of shouts of "The intruder came back!" Nor should she look like herself, for that could be even worse if anyone recognized her as the one who had come around here two days ago seeking work—che strange one, with the stranger mother, who had been asked to leave.
So, while no plan seemed safe, the least dangerous was to look like Brinna, because Nola knew for a fact that Brinna was away in the market and that the curious people of Haymarket would likely keep her there for much longer than Nola needed.
So as she rounded the last corner she dropped the glamour that made her look like a boy and took on one that made her look like Brinna.
Nola opened the door and stepped into the kitchen.
And found a man in there, a soldier by the look of him, poking among the pots and crocks. "Hello again, Brinna," he said when he saw Nola. "Everybody's waiting for you in the shop."
CHAPTER NINE
S TORIES FLOODED INTO Nola's memory of witches captured: stories told to her by her mother as warnings, and tales told by people who didn't know Nola was a witch and who shared their accounts as entertainment, ot to satisfy themselves that honest folk always won out in the end over monsters and demons and witches and other such evil creatures.
Nola cook a step back, and the soldier caught hold of her arm, firmly though not roughly. He must have seen she was close to panic, for he spoke reassuringly, as someone might to a skittish horse, "Easy there, now, I mean you no harm."
He didn't look especially cruel, but neither had the children in one village whom she had seen throw rocks at an old woman, an old woman who had evoked their suspicion because she shook and twitched and had a film over one eye.
Nola tried to pull free, thinking that if she could just get to the door...
If she got to the door, he would follow her.
And she couldn't pull free in any case. He didn't even have to strain to hold on to her.
"What is it, girl?" the soldier asked. He must be with chat man Galvin, she collected herself enough to surmise, one of Lord Pendaran's guard. And very obviously he had already spoken once with die real Brinna.
So far he was being solicitous of her trembling and obvious fear. Nola estimated that wouldn't last long before he scarred to wonder just why she was so anxious when Brinna would know that he had cause to be here.
She let her free hand flutter over her heart, co acknowledge that she had been frightened, and gave a ragged half-laugh, half-sigh to show that now she was over it and embarrassed at her foolishness. "I'm sorry." she said. "You startled me. For a moment I didn't know who you were and I thought..." She forced herself to remember the sight of Kirwyn bringing the hammer down on his father's head, which caused her to shudder, which would have co be Brinna's reaction, too. She shook her head. "Ic was silly of me."
"Not at all," the man said, though his face indicated he thought it was
very
silly of her. He nodded toward the hall. "Lord Galvin is in the shop with Master Kirwyn, and he's eager co speak to you, to hear in more detail your account of what happened."
He still had his hand on Nola's arm, probably less to hold on to her than to indicate that he wanted her to keep moving. But even if he let go, Nola realized, she would
She had to get into the silversmith's house, and she knew that Brinna was out among the market stalls telling everyone what had happened, and Kirwyn, Alan, and Lord Pendaran's man were in the shop. There might not be a better time. She climbed out over the guide rope that held the awning over the stall and made her way toward the street where the silversmith lived. Had lived.
If she was lucky, she would be in and out of the house in the time it would take to make up a bed and not a person would notice her. But just in case some neighbor
did
see her entering through the kitchen door, she had better look like someone who had a right to be there. She didn't want to look like a stranger, for fear of shouts of "The intruder came back!" Nor should she look like herself, for that could be even worse if anyone recognized her as the one who had come around here two days ago seeking work—che strange one, with the stranger mother, who had been asked to leave.
So, while no plan seemed safe, the least dangerous was to look like Brinna, because Nola knew for a fact that Brinna was away in the market and that the curious people of Haymarket would likely keep her there for much longer than Nola needed.
So as she rounded the last corner she dropped the glamour that made her look like a boy and took on one that made her look like Brinna.
Nola opened the door and stepped into the kitchen.
And found a man in there, a soldier by the look of him, poking among the pots and crocks. "Hello again, Brinna," he said when he saw Nola. "Everybody's waiting for you in the shop."
CHAPTER NINE
S TORIES FLOODED INTO Nola's memory of witches captured: stories told to her by her mother as warnings, and tales told by people who didn't know Nola was a witch and who shared their accounts as entertainment, ot to satisfy themselves that honest folk always won out in the end over monsters and demons and witches and other such evil creatures.
Nola cook a step back, and the soldier caught hold of her arm, firmly though not roughly. He must have seen she was close to panic, for he spoke reassuringly, as someone might to a skittish horse, "Easy there, now, I mean you no harm."
He didn't look especially cruel, but neither had the children in one village whom she had seen throw rocks at an old woman, an old woman who had evoked their suspicion because she shook and twitched and had a film over one eye.
Nola tried to pull free, thinking that if she could just get to the door...
If she got to the door, he would follow her.
And she couldn't pull free in any case. He didn't even have to strain to hold on to her.
"What is it, girl?" the soldier asked. He must be with chat man Galvin, she collected herself enough to surmise, one of Lord Pendaran's guard. And very obviously he had already spoken once with die real Brinna.
So far he was being solicitous of her trembling and obvious fear. Nola estimated that wouldn't last long before he scarred to wonder just why she was so anxious when Brinna would know that he had cause to be here.
She let her free hand flutter over her heart, co acknowledge that she had been frightened, and gave a ragged half-laugh, half-sigh to show that now she was over it and embarrassed at her foolishness. "I'm sorry." she said. "You startled me. For a moment I didn't know who you were and I thought..." She forced herself to remember the sight of Kirwyn bringing the hammer down on his father's head, which caused her to shudder, which would have co be Brinna's reaction, too. She shook her head. "Ic was silly of me."
"Not at all," the man said, though his face indicated he thought it was
very
silly of her. He nodded toward the hall. "Lord Galvin is in the shop with Master Kirwyn, and he's eager co speak to you, to hear in more detail your account of what happened."
He still had his hand on Nola's arm, probably less to hold on to her than to indicate that he wanted her to keep moving. But even if he let go, Nola realized, she would
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