Read Online The Mage and the Magpie by Austin J. Bailey - Free Book Online
Authors: Austin J. Bailey
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gathering wood for a fire.
Hugo shrugged.
“Ah,” Archibald said sagely. “The shrug.” He touched the side of his nose. “Sometimes a shrug means no. Sometimes it means yes. Other times it means something in between. Which kind was that?”
Hugo shrugged again.
“I see.” Archibald nodded to himself. “Very well. Keep your dreary thoughts private. I shall still endeavor to cheer you up.”
Hugo felt his temper surge. He didn’t want to be cheered up. Why couldn’t Archibald just leave him alone? He always did this—it was one of the best and worst things about him. His teacher was always, day after day, excruciatingly cheerful. “Aren’t you ever just in a bad mood?” Hugo blurted.
“Yes,” Archibald said easily, “but lucky for you, it takes more than a melancholy adolescent to put me there.”
Hugo glowered.
“Very well,” Archibald said. “I know just the thing.” With a spark, the fire caught and Archibald leaned back. “I will give you…” he said in a dramatic voice, “ three free questions.”
Hugo brightened. It had been a long time since he had a free question. It was a thing they had done when he was younger. When he got too tired of studying, Archibald would let him ask a free question. It could be about anything, and Archibald had toanswer, even if he didn’t want to, even if it wasn’t appropriate or prudent. As he got older, the practice had ceased. No doubt Archibald had grown cautious about the things he might ask. After all, Archibald was one of the most educated people in the land, and there were many things he might not wish to tell a young boy.
Hugo settled down against the base of a tree opposite Archibald. What should he ask? He forced back a smile.
“Where do babies come from?”
Archibald went pale.
Hugo burst out laughing. “Ah! I got you!” He was doubled over laughing now. It felt good to laugh again. Archibald looked at him sternly. Hugo wiped a tear from his eye. “Ah…okay, I’ll admit, I feel better.”
Archibald smiled in a satisfied way. “You still have three questions.”
“Right.” Hugo mustered his courage. He knew what he wanted to ask most, but he was embarrassed about it. Plus, hadn’t he already decided to give up on his dream of becoming a mage? He settled on a different question. He knew Archibald wouldn’t want to answer it; under normal circumstances, the subject was off limits.
“You agree to answer my questions fully? No taunting me with half answers?”
Archibald looked wounded. “Have I ever?”
“Okay. In that case…what really happened between you and the Magemother?”
Archibald sighed. “Somehow I knew you would ask that. But I suppose it is the most mysterious part about me, isn’t it?”
Hugo tried to hide the guilty grin on his face. He had to admit he was more than a little embarrassed to bring it up. There were all kinds of rumors about Archibald and the Magemother. It was a common topic of gossip among the oldest servants after a little too much wine.
“The rumors are true,” Archibald said candidly. “We were very close once.” He looked sad.
For all his curiosity, Hugo started to feel bad for asking, but Archibald went on.
“We were friends for a long time, then confidants. Because of the nature of her life, her responsibility, her position, her power, there was no one who could really understand her. Most men were either intimidated by her power or simply unwilling to take second priority to her responsibilities. I was not. We became…as close as two people can be, perhaps—at least two people such as ourselves. Your father married us.”
Hugo gaped at him in shock. Archibald was married to the Magemother? Archibald? He took a good look at his teacher. He had always thought of him as a silly old man, wise—brilliant even—but eccentric. He was always dressed too well, and usually so polite as to be mistaken for uptight if you didn’t know him. Could this man really
Hugo shrugged.
“Ah,” Archibald said sagely. “The shrug.” He touched the side of his nose. “Sometimes a shrug means no. Sometimes it means yes. Other times it means something in between. Which kind was that?”
Hugo shrugged again.
“I see.” Archibald nodded to himself. “Very well. Keep your dreary thoughts private. I shall still endeavor to cheer you up.”
Hugo felt his temper surge. He didn’t want to be cheered up. Why couldn’t Archibald just leave him alone? He always did this—it was one of the best and worst things about him. His teacher was always, day after day, excruciatingly cheerful. “Aren’t you ever just in a bad mood?” Hugo blurted.
“Yes,” Archibald said easily, “but lucky for you, it takes more than a melancholy adolescent to put me there.”
Hugo glowered.
“Very well,” Archibald said. “I know just the thing.” With a spark, the fire caught and Archibald leaned back. “I will give you…” he said in a dramatic voice, “ three free questions.”
Hugo brightened. It had been a long time since he had a free question. It was a thing they had done when he was younger. When he got too tired of studying, Archibald would let him ask a free question. It could be about anything, and Archibald had toanswer, even if he didn’t want to, even if it wasn’t appropriate or prudent. As he got older, the practice had ceased. No doubt Archibald had grown cautious about the things he might ask. After all, Archibald was one of the most educated people in the land, and there were many things he might not wish to tell a young boy.
Hugo settled down against the base of a tree opposite Archibald. What should he ask? He forced back a smile.
“Where do babies come from?”
Archibald went pale.
Hugo burst out laughing. “Ah! I got you!” He was doubled over laughing now. It felt good to laugh again. Archibald looked at him sternly. Hugo wiped a tear from his eye. “Ah…okay, I’ll admit, I feel better.”
Archibald smiled in a satisfied way. “You still have three questions.”
“Right.” Hugo mustered his courage. He knew what he wanted to ask most, but he was embarrassed about it. Plus, hadn’t he already decided to give up on his dream of becoming a mage? He settled on a different question. He knew Archibald wouldn’t want to answer it; under normal circumstances, the subject was off limits.
“You agree to answer my questions fully? No taunting me with half answers?”
Archibald looked wounded. “Have I ever?”
“Okay. In that case…what really happened between you and the Magemother?”
Archibald sighed. “Somehow I knew you would ask that. But I suppose it is the most mysterious part about me, isn’t it?”
Hugo tried to hide the guilty grin on his face. He had to admit he was more than a little embarrassed to bring it up. There were all kinds of rumors about Archibald and the Magemother. It was a common topic of gossip among the oldest servants after a little too much wine.
“The rumors are true,” Archibald said candidly. “We were very close once.” He looked sad.
For all his curiosity, Hugo started to feel bad for asking, but Archibald went on.
“We were friends for a long time, then confidants. Because of the nature of her life, her responsibility, her position, her power, there was no one who could really understand her. Most men were either intimidated by her power or simply unwilling to take second priority to her responsibilities. I was not. We became…as close as two people can be, perhaps—at least two people such as ourselves. Your father married us.”
Hugo gaped at him in shock. Archibald was married to the Magemother? Archibald? He took a good look at his teacher. He had always thought of him as a silly old man, wise—brilliant even—but eccentric. He was always dressed too well, and usually so polite as to be mistaken for uptight if you didn’t know him. Could this man really
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