DAUGHTER OF MAGIC

Copyright  1996 by C. Dale Brittain
 
PROLOGUE
She was slimy, streaked with blood, squalling, and so small I could hold her in 
my cupped hands. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.
The midwife whipped her away from me, washed and dried her tenderly, then laid 
her, wrapped in a blanket, on Theodora's breast.
"Thank you," said Theodora weakly. Her face was
Eale with exhaustion, but she looked, if possible, even appier than I felt. "You 
can take a rest now."
The midwife looked at me distrustingly, as she had for the last two hours, but 
closed the door behind her as she left. I sat down beside Theodora, brushed the 
sweaty hair away from her forehead, and kissed it gently. Our baby found the 
nipple, stopped crying, and began to drink.
"We'll call her Theodora," I said, touching the baby's impossibly small fingers 
with one of my own.
Theodora smiled but shook her head. "We'll do no such thing."
"But I thought that was your mother's and grandmother's name before you."
"And further back than that. But if our daughter and I both have the same name, 
either you'll call her Theo or some such foolish nickname, or else you'll start 
calling me Mother. That's what happened to my parents."
I laughed. "I'm unlikely to start thinking of you as my mother. But we'll name 
her whatever you Eke." I handed Theodora a cup of water, and she drank deeply. 
"I thought childbirth was supposed to be easy for witches."
She looked at me in amusement over the rim of the cup. "I'm never going to 
persuade you I'm not a witch, am I. But I gather you have never seen any other 
woman give birth?"
"Of course not. And the midwife almost didn't let me be here."
"Fathers aren't usually welcome. But this was an easy birth in comparison to 
most. Even with the best magic, neither birth nor death will ever be painless." 
I nodded. "Death I know about." "And now you know about birth." Our baby was 
drinking more slowly now, and her eyes were half closed. Theodora stroked her 
tiny tuft of hair as if in wonderment. "Her hair's going to be lighter than 
mine, almost chestnut colored."
The same color, I thought, that mine would be if it hadn't turned white when I 
was twenty-nine. "I hope her eyes stay blue," added Theodora. I had a vague 
sense that babies' eyes, like kittens', changed color in a few weeks, but I 
didn't say anything. "We'll name her Antonia," said Theodora. "An excellent 
name," I agreed. I would indeed have agreed happily to anything. Such an 
obviously perfect child would have given beauty even to an ugly name. I imagined 
for a moment all the wonderful things that Antonia would do while growing up. 
"We'll have the bishop baptize her."
Theodora too had almost started to doze, but at this
she opened her eyes and frowned. "I don't think the
bishop will want to baptize an illegitimate child himself."
"The bishop and I have been friends for twenty years,
and he likes you. He'll be happy to."
"And aren't you worried about what the wizards' school will say if one of their 
graduates publicly acknowledges his liaison with a witch?"
Since I had no intention of worrying about what the school did or did not think 
appropriate, I stayed with the topic of the bishop. "It's certainly not Antonia 
s fault that her parents were heedless. And" I hesitated, not wanting to put 
pressure on Theodora while she was weak. But I had to say it. "We can still be 
married."
I needn't have worried about putting pressure on her. She just smiled and leaned 
back against the pillows, closing her eyes. "We've already been through all 
this, Daimbert. I can't let you destroy your career as a wizard by marrying me."
I should have known she would say that. I kissed her on the cheek. "Just 
remember I love you," I whispered, but both mother and baby were already asleep. 
Carefully I adjusted the blanket around them. I had no way of anticipating that 
five years later I would decide I had to kill a rival for Theodora's affections.
PART ONE
Miracle-Worker
|                                   I
The clash of swords shattered the night stillness. For a second I tried to 
incorporate the sound into my dream, but then I sat up abrupdy to hear the clang 
of steel on steel with waking ears. My casement windows opened onto the castle 
courtyard, and the sound came from the direction of the gate.
In a second I was out of bed, my heart pounding wildly, fumbling with numb 
fingers at the door latch. We never had armed violence here in the kingdom of 
Yurt. The night watchman had for years been only a formality, but this sounded 
like real fighting. .
But by the time I was out in the courtyard, the cobblestones cold and hard 
underfoot, the clashing had stopped. The night and silence were ominous.
I flew through the courtyard toward the gate, shaping a paralysis spell for 
whomever I would find. A lantern burned where the night watchman should be 
standing, and by it was a large indistinct lump. A cloaked and hooded man bent 
over it, apparently tying it up with a cord.
"Who are you?" gasped the indistinct lump in the night watchman's voice.
5
6
C. Dale Brittain
Two more seconds and my spell would be ready. But the hooded man spoke first, as 
though in mild surprise, and at his voice the watchman gave an amazed laugh. "I 
am Paul, your king. I thought I was well known to
you."
I dropped to the ground, abandoning my spell, caught between anger, and relief. 
The watchman seemed to feel the same way. "But, sire! Why didn't you tell me who 
you were rather than attacking? I might have killed
you!"
"Yes indeed," said King Paul cheerfully, pushing back his hood. "The king of 
Yurt came very near to being killed by his own watchman! And very pleased with 
you I am, too. But you probably don't want to lie there bound
all night."
He saw me then. "Good evening, Wizard," he said, looking up from undoing the 
knots he had just finished tying. "I decided not to spend another night at that 
old ruined castle I've been exploring but to come on
home."
I took and let out a deep breath. "I hope you realize, sire," I contented myself 
with saying, "that you came very close to being trapped at best by a paralysis 
spell or even transmogrified into a frog." The problem with being Royal Wizard 
was that I was supposed to have mature wisdom to offer my king but was not in a 
position to spank him as though he had been twenty years
younger.
"Then I have both a competent wizard and a competent night watchman," Paul said 
cheerfully. "Have you ever been to the ruined castle, Wizard? It's over in the 
next kingdom, but I think you'd find it very interesting. I'll just take care of 
my horse; I left him outside the moat. Good-night." And he disappeared back out 
the gate.
I helped the watchman up. He rubbed his wrists where
Daughter of Macic
7
they had been chafed by the cord and retrieved his sword. "And I helped train 
him myself," he said with pleased pride.
This was not my own reaction. Paul had been king only a few years, and if he 
thought testing his castle s defenses by putting his own life in danger was 
nothing more than a joke, then he needed to find more to do to keep himself 
occupied. Either that, the thought struck me with depressing force, or else the 
casde s main source of mature wisdom was going to have to teach him some.
But my first thoughts the next morning were not for Paul. "My, uh, my niece 
would like to visit me here at the casde, my lady," I told the queen mother. 
"That is, if it's all right with you."
She looked at me, puzzled, her head cocked to one side. "I don't think I knew 
you had a niece, Wizard." I willed her to understand though not daring to say 
more. The queen knew about Antonia-or should. "How old is die girl?" she asked.
"She's five."
The queen blinked, long lashes over emerald eyes. The matronly mother of the 
king, she was still the most beautiful woman I had ever met, much more lovely 
than Theodora although with none of her intelligence and wit.
"Oh," said the queen in sudden comprehension. "Of course, Wizard. We would be 
delighted to have your, uh, your niece visit the casde. The duchess's daughters 
will also be visiting this week, although I myself will be away. Does the girl 
have a nurse of her own or should I ask the constable to engage one for her 
stay?"
"Oh, she won't need a nurse," I said. And I hurried up to die pigeon loft to 
send Theodora a message that I would be coming in two days to see her and pick 
up our daughter.
g                                  C. Dale Brittain
Theodora lived, as she had since I first met her, in the cathedral city of 
Caelrhon, in the next kingdom over from Yurt. She had Antonia all dressed in a 
new blue dress when I set the air cart down in the narrow street outside her 
house two mornings later. The air cart was the skin of a long-dead purple flying 
beast, which would still fly if given magical commands. I tethered it to a ring 
by the door and ducked inside.
"I'm all ready," said Antonia gravely. "I packed my bag all by myself."
I hugged her and kissed Theodora, who sat at her sewing. She gave me a one-armed 
embrace but did not get up. Her curly nut-brown hair was even more tousled than 
usual. "We don't have to leave right away," I said.
Theodora used her teeth to rip out some basting thread. "I'm supposed to have 
these dresses ready by tomorrow," she said distractedly. "I'm glad you're taking
Antonia now."
"But I could help you pin seams," said the girl. "I'm very good at pinning 
seams," she explained to me as though it were a great secret.
Theodora smiled. "I know you are. But go with the wizard. They'll all think 
you're beautiful in your blue dress when you reach Yurt. Aren't you looking 
forward to living in a castle for a week?"
It was the castle that decided it for Antonia. She had never been to Yurt. She 
marched out toward the air cart, then darted back in to grab her bag and, 
somewhat belatedly, kiss her mother good-bye.
Theodora kissed me too. "I'll see you both next week. She really is a good girl, 
Daimbert," she added, "but make sure she gets enough sleep. She'll keep herself 
awake for hours if you let her."
And so, rather abruptly, rather than having a pleasant day with the woman I 
loved, I found myself leaving for home with the daughter with whom I had never
Daughter of Magic                             9
before spent more than brief periods alone. A moderately skilled wizard, with 
access through the Hidden Language to the same forces that had shaped the earth, 
I felt at a loss before this serious-eyed young girl. I wanted this to be a 
wonderful week, an opportunity to gain the affection and confidence of someone 
who might not even be certain I was her father.
Boys I thought I knew about, from memories of my own childhood and from watching 
Paul grow up, but girls, I thought with something approaching panic, must be 
different. It was all very well for Theodora to say that she needed to get to 
bed on time, but what was involved in getting a girl to bed? Nightgowns and 
toothbrushes, I was sure, played a role in this, but how about her hair? Did I 
brush it? Was I supposed to rebraid it at night or in the morning? And did I 
even have the slightest idea how to braid hair?
I lifted Antonia into the air cart, climbed in myself, and gave the command to 
lift off. Her self-possession cracked for a moment as the cart rotated and rose 
above the twisting streets of Caelrhon. She clutched my leg and looked up at 
mewas it supposed to sway like this? When I smiled and the air cart's flight 
leveled out, she smiled back, reassured.
She stood on tiptoe to look over the edge as we soared above the construction 
for the new cathedral and across the green hills toward Yurt. Our shadow darted 
up and down the slopes below us.
'When I grow up and become a wizard I'm going to be able to fly like this 
myself," she said confidently. This had been something else I had been hoping to 
discuss with Theodora todaythe question of when and how the daughter of a 
wizard and a witch should start learning magic. "Why do you think Mother always 
makes me wear blue?" she added.
"Because it looks so good with your eyes," I suggested.
1Q                                C. Dale Brittain
Antonia's eyes had in fact never changed color, remaining a brilliant sapphire 
blue.
"I don't think so," she said, thinking it over. "I think it's only because 
Mother's own favorite color is blue. My favorite color is yellow. What's yours?"
"Blue," I said, thinking I would have to buy Antonia something yellow to wear.
I had expected that she would sleep on the couch in the outer room of my 
chambers, but Gwennie would not hear of it. "A little girl alone with a wizard?" 
she said. "You'd probably have a nightmare and turn her into a frog by mistake. 
Of course, you'd be very sorry in the morning, but think how she'd feel!"
Antonia, holding my hand, looked up at me and laughed, but" with the slightest 
questioning look, as though wondering if Gwennie was right and she might 
unexpectedly find herself an amphibian.
I had the vague feeling that Royal Wizards in other kingdoms were treated with 
more awe and respect than to be accused by the castle staff of doing 
transformations by accident. "I wouldn't do anything to harm her, Gwennie," I 
tried to argue. This would have been easier if I had dared tell anyone Antonia 
was my daughter, but the queen was the only person in the castle who knew. "And 
you can't very well put a Httle girl like this in a room by herself."
"I sleep in a room by myself at home," Antonia piped up. Gwennie, daughter of 
the cook and the castle constable, had been destined for the kitchens by her 
mother, but herself had always intended to replace her father. Indeed, since her 
father had been so sick the past winter, she had taken over more and more of his 
duties, supervising the other servants, arranging accommodations for visitors to 
the castle, and keeping the accounts and the ledgers. Senior members of the
Daughter of Macic
11
staff had smiled indulgently, assuming it was only a temporary situation. 
Knowing Gwennie and her determination, I knew better.
"I'll put her in the suite with the duchess's daughters," she announced, 
forestalling further argumentbesides, the duchess's daughters probably knew all 
about hair brushing. "They've just arrived, and they were very interested to 
learn you had a niece. And I've already told you, Wizard," she finished loftily, 
"that in carrying out my duties I prefer the name of Gwendolyn."
The duchess's twin daughters, three years younger than King Paul, were delighted 
when I brought Antonia's little bag to their suitea doll's smiling face poked 
out of the top of the bag. 'We already said we could take care of the girl," the 
twins told me. "So you don't need to worry about your niece at all, Wizard. Oh, 
Gwennie, before you go, we're going to need more towels."
"Of course, my ladies," she said with a respect she never showed me.
"We know an old man, set in his ways, doesn't want youthful female 
companionship!" they added, going into giggles that I found highly 
inappropriate.
Antonia held on to my hand, looking up at them gravely. They had grown into 
handsome women in the last few years. Both the twins had inherited their 
father's height, being very tall, but physically the resemblance between them 
stopped there. Hildegarde was blond like her father, whose principality she 
would someday inherit, and Celia was slim and dark-haired like her mother, after 
whom she would one day be duchess of Yurt. They had always shared a unanimity 
against outsiders, which when they were little had even taken the form of a 
secret language, but I had the feeling that as they grew up their personalities 
had begun to diverge.
12                             C. Dale Brittain
"What an adorable little girl," said Hildegarde. "It's hard to believe she's 
related to you, Wizard."
"Where did you get those big blue eyes, sweetheart?"
asked Celia.
"I was born with them," said Antonia very seriously, which made both the twins 
start laughing again.
"I'd better warn you, Wizard," said Hildegarde with a grin for her sister, "that 
if you leave the girl with us too long Celia may make her into a nun, of much 
too pure a mind to want to associate with some magic-worker."
"And who was it," Celia shot back with an answering grin, "who was saying just 
today how much fun it would be to teach a little girl to use a sword?"
Antonia looked up at me again. "I haven't seen any swords yet," she said in 
anticipation. "Will I see a dragon
too?"
"I'll keep the girl with me though dinner," I said and
escaped.
As we walked back across the courtyard, Antonia asked thoughtfully, "Do you love 
other ladies besides my mother?"
"Of course not!" I replied, shocked.
"Those ladies are very pretty," she said in explanation.
I had tried to tidy my chambers for her arrival, but she immediately clambered 
onto my desk and started leafing through papers, telling me she was looking for 
good magic spells. When I lifted her down and threw the papers into a drawer she 
crossed straight to my bookshelves and started to climb, working the toes of her 
small shoes in between the volumes.
"Here, I want to show you something interesting," I said quickly, taking hold of 
her again and planting her in a chair. "And, Antonia, I don't want you on my
shelves."
"But Mother likes to climb," she objected.
Dauchter of Macic                       13
"Not on shelves. It's very dangerous. She'll be angry at me if you hurt 
yourself."
"What are you going to show me?"
"A unicorn," I said, throwing the spell together as quickly as I could.
II
And so I spent much of the afternoon working a series of magical illusions that 
I hoped would amuse a girl. She watched very seriously without commenting at 
all, but she did snuggle up next to me while I told her a few stories from my 
experiences in the fabled East and in the borderlands of the wild northern land 
of magic. However, she kept being disappointed at the absence of dragons in my 
stories.
"We've only ever once had a dragon here in Yurt," I said, "years and years ago, 
before the king was even born. It almost killed me." For a number of reasons, I 
did not think the details appropriate for her.
But instead of asking me more, she jumped up, listening with an eager 
expression. "I hear a swordfight!"
My heart gave an abrupt thump, but the faint sound of swords during the day, 
carried into the castle from outside, was perfecdy normal. "Someone's 
practicing," I said. "Do you want to go see?"
Antonia ran ahead, chestnut-colored braids bouncing against the back of her blue 
dress. On the grass outside we found King Paul and Hildegarde, fencing with 
swords and light shields.
In a leather tunic and men's leggings, her long blond hair tied back and eyes 
flashing, Hildegarde had a magnificent figure. She was as tall as the king, well 
muscled but not the least bit unfeminine. I would have found the sight of her 
before me highly distracting, but Paul apparently did not. He concentrated on 
his fighting,
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C. Dale Brittain
moving lightly, landing all his blows on her shield while deftly parrying the 
strokes she rained less discriminately on him. For ten minutes they circled each 
other, fighting while more and more of the staff came out of tbe castle to 
watch.
"Very good," the king said as Hildegarde got an unexpected advantage for a 
moment and forced him to retreat a few steps. "But don't drop your defense," he 
continued, his sword moving constantly as he spoke. "Because if you do" and 
with a sudden twist he jerked the blade from her hand.
Antonia was watching openmouthed. I doubted a seamstress's house in town offered 
anything like this much excitement. Hildegarde dipped her head and lowered her 
shield. "That stung," she said, flexing the fingers of her sword hand. "I think 
you got in a lucky blow."
"In part, of course, I did," said Paul, pushing back sweaty hair and ignoring 
his audience. "I've had a lot more experience. But in part I'm just stronger 
than you are. Your footwork is fine, your stamina is fine, and your reach is 
longer than a lot of men, but you just don't have the upper-body strength you'd 
need."
"Father keeps telling me the same thing," she said glumly, retrieving her sword.
Paul smiled and put an arm casually across her shoulders, as though she had been 
a youth in knighthood training rather than a stunningly well constructed young 
woman. "I think it's time we got cleaned up for dinner. I'll try to drink of 
some exercises for you to build your muscles."
At dinner my daughter demonstrated excellent manners, sitting beside me with a 
copy of Thaumaturgy A to Z bringing her up to table level. Afterwards I took her 
to the twins' suiteHildegarde had been transformed back into a modestly attired 
aristocratic lady for dinner
Daughter of Macic                         15
and told them to make sure Antonia got to bed soon.
King Paul was waiting at the door of my chambers when I returned. "I'd like to 
talk to you, Wizard," he said, frowning.
Good. This was my opportunity to impart some wisdomif I could only think how to 
tell my liege lord diplomatically that he had been behaving like a fool. Acting 
in front of the staff as if he did not notice that Hildegarde was not a boy was 
perhaps insufficient cause for comment by itself, but I hadn't forgotten him 
allowing the watchman to attack him in good earnest. I pressed my palm against 
the magic door lock and let him in, leaving the door open since it was such a 
pleasant June evening.
Paul flopped down on my couch and stretched long legs out before him. "You know, 
Wizard," he said, "sometimes it seems that you're almost the only person in the 
castle not trying to get me married."
"Married?" This was certainly a different topic.
"My Aunt Maria and half the ladies in court seem to bring the topic up every 
day. Mother's tlie worst, of course." Even his frown could not obscure the fact 
that Paul was extremely handsome, golden-haired, superbly muscled, with his 
mother's emerald eyes and ready smile and his own grace and confidence in 
everything he did. "For the longest time she was trying to marry me to the 
daughter of King Lucas of Caelrhon. Not that Motherunlike Aunt Maria!ever said 
anything explicidy. But have you noticed how many times in the last year the 
litue princess has been invited to the castle? And there were always hints, 
suggestions that now that I was king it was time to start giving some thought to 
the heir who would one day be king after me."
"And you don't like fhe princess?" I asked.
"There's nothing to like! I'm sure she'll be fine when she grows up, but it's 
quite a stretch calling her a woman
16
C. Dale Brittain
rather than a child. How could I possibly be interested in someone like that?"
"It would certainly make sense to your mother," I suggested, "forging anew a 
dynastic tie between the twin kingdoms of Yurt and Caelrhon. After all, her own 
husband is the younger brother of King Lucas."
Paul pulled a jeweled-handled knife from his belt and flipped it into the air, 
caught it, flipped it up and caught it again. I had never been quite sure how 
much he approved of his mothers second marriage, but that was not what was 
bothering him now. "I thought a king was supposed to be able to do whatever he 
wanted," he said gloomily. But then he abruptiy smiled for the first time since 
entering my chambers. "But I can keep on with my horses. I've got a dozen foals 
sired by Bonfire now, and I'm going to backbreed some of the fillies to him. The 
stables of Yurt will one day be famous."
"And you've been able to do a lot for educating the children of Yurt." I knew 
that Paul had, from his own resources, laid out a great deal in addition to the 
amount the royal treasury had always expended on books and teachers' salaries in 
the schools scattered across the kingdom.
He waved this away as barely worth mentioning. "I guess I just don't want to 
feel that everyone considers me a stallion myself, interesting only if I'm 
fathering the heir to the throne."
The topic of fatherhood always made me feel as though my ears were burning. 
Traditionally wizards neither marry nor have children, being considered wedded 
to institutionalized magic. Although I had managed to carry on as Royal Wizard 
of Yurt in the five years since Antonia was born without either Paul or the 
wizards' school learning she was my daughter, this was a charade I could not 
continue indefinitely. Part of my decision to bring Antonia to Yurt was a vague
Daughter of Magic                            17
feeling that once she was here I might find a way to resolve the issue.
The king did not seem to notice my confusion. "I think I finally made Mother 
understand that I'm not about to marry a tbirteen-year-old girl, but rather than 
giving me a little peace she invited the duchess's daughters to come visit! I'm 
sure she thought she was very subtle, being away with her husband at the royal 
court of Caelrhon while the twins were here, so as not to appear to be putting 
any pressure on me, but it's still obvious why she invited them. I thought the 
three of us, the twins and I, had made it clear years ago that none of us wanted 
to marry each other, but apparently we're going to have to do it all over 
again."
"Are you quite so sure they wouldn't want to marry you?" I asked.
Paul crossed his booted legs and smiled. "Of course not. We've known each other 
all our lives. Neither one of them wants to marry anyone. Celia just wants to 
study her Bible, and Hildegarde intends to become a knight."
This was news to me, though maybe it shouldn't have been. "But women can't be 
knights!" Or, for that matter, wizards, I added to myseE But Antonia had said 
she was going to be a wizard.
Paul laughed. "Try telling that to Hildegarde. I've never had any luck changing 
her mind."
So far I hadn't been able to work in any discussion of the fact that a king 
without an heir should not imperil himself for a joke. But fathers, I told 
myself, had to act responsibly even if no one else did. "Aren't there any adult 
princesses who would consider marrying you, even if the twins won't?" I asked. 
"After all"
He didn't give me a chance to finish. "Of course there are, Wizard," he said, 
looking at me levelly "Last winter, when I spent several months in the great 
City by the sea with those relatives of Mother's, there were
18
C. Dale Brittain
ladies enough who would have been more than willing to marry me or, for that 
matter, do anything else I wanted." He shook his head in disapprovalor a good 
imitation. "Incomprehensible, of course," which I thought showed a remarkable 
lack of insight. "Not a few of them even had royal blood! I expect wizards don't 
get proposals like that, so you won't know how startling it can be."
I prudendy kept silent.
"So of course there are women of appropriate rank who will have methe problem 
is that I wouldn't be willing to marry any oithem. If I ever do decide to get 
married, it's going to be to someone who excites me to the very core of my 
being, someone who feels as though she and I were two halves of the same whole, 
waiting from before our births to be reunited: not just someone who would be 
politically appropriate. So what do you think, Wizard?"
His green eyes sought mine. I wondered briefly if he might be someone who would 
never find women romantically attractive, which would of course make the 
succession much more problematic. Without any good answer, I looked out toward 
the twilight courtyard and stammered, "Well, a king of course, that is I mean, 
minds have been known to change"
But whatever Paul was hoping I would say, it was not what he had been hearing 
from the queen and the Lady Maria. "I really don't know what you should do, 
sire," I said, meeting his look. "You certainly shouldn't force yourself to 
marry someone you find less appealing than your horses. And you can't look at 
every woman you meet with both of you wondering if this is the one. Perhaps 
after a period of time"
Paul rose before I had to carry this inadequate ad\ace any further. "Well, at 
least I know I have one more ally in the castle," he said, settling his belt. 
"Maybe I'll
Daughter of Magic                       19
go see Gwennie." He ducked his head to go out through my door. "Gwennie?" I 
said, startled. "But she" "She should be done with her evening chores by now. 
She's always been a good person to talk toalmost as good as you, Wizard," he 
added generously. "She was the one who helped me decide how to break it to 
Mother the other year that I wasn't going to marry either of the twins."
And he was gone, leaving me looking thoughtfully after him. That Gwennie was the 
daughter of the cook and the castle constable was only one of the reasons why I 
did not think her the best person with whom the king might discuss the question 
of whom he should marry.
When I went to find Antonia in the morning, she was wearing a yellow scarf 
belonging to one of the twins and finishing a big bowl of porridge with gusto. 
"Guess what, Wizard!" she said with an excited smile. "Hildegarde and Celia are 
going to teach me to ride a horse!"
"It's very good of you, my ladies," I began, "to help take care of my, uh, 
niece, but you really"
"We want to do it, Wizard," said Hildegarde.
"They were going to teach me to read," said Antonia, "but I told them I already 
knew how."
'Then later today," said Hildegarde cheerfully, "we'll teach her how to deal 
cards off the bottom of the pack."
"What?!" I glared at the twins while Antonia grinned in anticipation.
"It can be a very useful skill for a lady," said Celia, affecting a serious 
tone, "learning how to spot cheating so she will not be tricked herself So we'll 
see you this afternoon, after our ride. Now, if you'll excuse us, we need to put 
on our riding habits."
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C. Dale Brittain
"Make sure the door is tight," I heard Hildegarde say as it swung shut in my 
face. "He's an old man. The shock of seeing us dressing couldn't be good for 
him." And all three of themincluding, I was mortified to hear, my 
daughterbegan to giggle.
Since it looked like I wasn't going to spend the morning trying to make Antonia 
feel as comfortable with me as she apparently already did with the twins, I 
instead went to look for Gwennie.
I found her in the kitchen, slicing mushrooms for lunch. We grew mushrooms in 
the casde cellars, and the cook made excellent soup with them. If Paul had not 
yet persuaded his mother that he was unready to marry anyone, Gwennie had yet to 
persuade her own mother that she would never be a cook.
I worked die pump for her. "Antonia seems happy that you put her in die suite 
with, die twins, Gwennie uh, Gwendolyn," I said.
But her frown had nodiing to do with Antonia or widi whatever I chose to call 
her. She shook the water from a handful of mushrooms and moved her knife so fast 
I could scarcely follow. "Paul told me he'd talked to you yesterday," she said 
after a quick glance around showed her mother and the kitchen maids all at the 
far side of the room. That she called him simply by his name, widiout his tide, 
and didn't even seem to notice that she had, told me how distressed she had been 
by dieir conversation.
"I can't see him marrying a child princess any more than he can," I said 
encouragingly.
"But she might be die best person for him," Gwennie said, pushing away a strand 
of hair from her face with a damp wrist. The knife flashed again. "If he told 
die queen he'd marry her when she was five years older, dien he wouldn't be 
bodiered in die meantime by a parade of other candidates. And in five years, 
anything" She
Daughter of Macic
21
stopped herself. "The girl would have to be better dian the duchess's 
daughters." She allowed herself a smile. "I'm sorry, Wizard. I shouldn't be 
talking to you like diis."
"Better me than anyone else," I said, working the pump again. Wizards in royal 
casdes have always been in somewhat of an ambivalent position, with a power 
beyond diat of kings if they cared to use it, yet on the paid staff like any 
servant. Most wizards manage to cultivate airs of authority and mystery that 
make everyone, from kings to stable boys, treat diem with deference. In spite of 
twenty-five years of intermittent trying, I had never gotten anyone at Yurt to 
treat me widi deference and had decided it was not worth die effort.
"I didn't tell Paul any of this, of course," Gwennie said, scooping mushrooms 
from the board into a bowl.
"How about telling him not to challenge an armed man for fun?" I said, but she 
wasn't listening.
"If I started telling him die same dungs everyone else is saying," she said, 
"he'd stop coming to talk to me." Aldiough Gwennie and Paul were almost exacdy 
die same age and had played togedier as children, I had imagined they had grown 
apart in the last fifteen years. Perhaps I was mistaken.
"So don't you agree, Wizard," she said, looking at me widi serious eyes that 
should have been bright and laughing, "that the best diing for him to do would 
be to marry die little princess? She's certainly of a suitable station for 
him"widi only die slightest catch in her breadi"and I'm sure will be well 
trained to become a gracious queen of Yurt and mother of Paul's children."
She turned away abrupdy at diat, making die gesture into rinsing off her knife 
with more dian necessary energy.
The diought flashed dirough my mind diat if Paul was going to wait until someone 
grew up, then even
22
C. Dale Brittain
Antonia might someday be old enough for him. But the illegitimate daughter of a 
witch and a wizard would never be of suitable station for a kingeven less than 
the daughter of a cook and castle constable.
Ill
The twins and Antonia came back from their riding lesson in the early afternoon. 
When they left they had been on two rangy geldings and a shaggy little pony, but 
they returned with Antonia sitting in front of Hildegarde, half asleep, and the 
pony led behind. A wilted chain of daisies was around the girl's neck.
"I want to tell Mother I can ride now," she roused herself to tell me. "Can we 
go see her?"
"Not right now, but you can tell me," I suggested, carrying her into the castle.
"I can make the pony stop and go forward and even gallop," she murmured into my 
neck. "Hildegarde didn't want me to gallop but I did anyway. I only fell off 
once."
"She falls very well for a child," said Celia, which I did not find nearly as 
reassuring as it was doubtless meant to be. I held Antonia close and stroked her 
fine hair.
Having left her asleep with the duchess's daughters I returned to my chambers, 
feeling on edge and unable to concentrate on the spells I was trying to perfect 
for entertainment over dessert tonight. Instead I wrote Theodora a brief message 
to be sent on the carrier pigeons, telling her that Antonia's first day in Yurt 
had gone well, leaving out all mention of cheating at cards or falls from 
ponies, and saying I sent love from both of us.
As I came down from the pigeon loft in the tower, Gwennie met me. "You have a 
telephone call, Wizard."
For a second I imagined it was Theodora. But she
Daughter of Magic
23
had never wanted me to install a magical telephone in her house, saying she 
would have no use for itand since it would have been hard to conceal my 
relationship with her if I was always talking to her on the phone, I had to 
agree she had a point.
The call was instead from my old friend the bishop of Caelrhon. "Joachim!" I 
said with pleasure. It had been ages since we'd talked. Even when I visited 
Theodora in the cathedral city he was usually too busy with his duties for me to 
want to bother him. "How good to hear from you!"
His face was a tiny image in the base of the glass telephone: black hair 
streaked with gray at the temples, enormous and compelling dark eyes, and an 
expression of great seriousnessexcept sometimes when he was talking to me. I 
had long ago decided that I should count it a personal virtue rather than a 
failing that the bishop of the twin kingdoms of Yurt and Caelrhon seemed to find 
me more amusing than he did anyone else.
"I would like your advice, Daimbert," he said, not smiling now. "There is 
something, well, strange going on here."
"How strange?"
He hesitated. "It's hard to say. A miracle-worker has come to town."
This didn't sound like the sort of thing to concern a wizard. "But tiiat's good, 
isn't it? Why do you need my advice?"
The bishop hesitated again, just long enough for me to start to wonder if it 
might be serious after all. Joachim didn't frighten easily. "I'm not sure he is 
really working miracles," he said at last. "He might be working magic. But he 
has started to acquire a following. I need to know if he is a fraud or has truly 
been touched by God."
Wizards could easily tell the supernatural from the
24
C. Dale Brittain
natural forces of magic, I thought somewhat smugly, even if priests could not. 
The situation did not sound nearly as worrisome to me as it apparently did to 
the bishop, but it was always good to have an excuse to see him. And using my 
magic to help him would be much better than sitting around Yurt wondering who 
was going to marry whom. "Of course, Joachim. I can come right away."
Even as I spoke it occurred to me that if I had just brought Antonia to Yurt in 
order to get to know her better, I could not very well abandon her for quick 
trips to Caelrhon, even if she did seem to be spending more time with the twins 
than with me. But perhaps now might not be a bad time after all. She was napping 
anyway, so if I went at once I would miss dinner with her but should be able to 
solve the cathedral's problems for them, see Theodora this evening, and still be 
back first thing in the morning.
There had been a time, I thought as I went to look for the twins to tell them I 
was leaving Antonia with them, when I could not, as wizard of Yurt, have had 
anything to do with magical occurrences in the kingdom of Caelrhon. But for the 
last few years the Royal Wizard of Caelrhon had been a good friend. He lived in 
the royal castie, not in the cathedral city itself, and he had told me with 
exasperated firmness that if the cathedral was overrun with nixies he would just 
as soon have me deal with it myself. I was probably one of the few wizards in 
the western kingdoms to get along well with a bishop.
I met Hildegarde in the middle of the courtyard, just coming back from the 
weapons shop where she told me she had left off a mail shirt for repairs. "Of 
course, Wizard," she said casually. "Antonia will have so much fun with us she 
won't even realize her uncle is gone."
I peeked in a minute at my daughter: sleeping deeply, her cheeks flushed and her 
doll's perky face next to
Daughter of Magic                         25
hers. Celia sat reading her Bible nearby. A sweet scene, I thought, heading out 
of the castle for the flight to Caelrhon.
But Celia caught up with me. "You're going to see the bishop?" she asked, low 
and intense. I was startled to see the change in her from the carefree young 
woman of just a short time earlier. Perhaps there were sides of her that did not 
come out when Hildegarde was there. "Take me with you, Wizard."
It would mean going in the air cart rather than flying myself, which would have 
been faster, but I couldn't very well refuse. Hildegarde could certainly watch 
over my daughter by herselfthough I wondered if she might indeed have made her 
into a warrior by the time I came back. In ten minutes Celia and I were rising 
above the towers of the royal castle, and the air cart began the steady flapping 
of wings that would take us to Caelrhon.
I studied her as we flew. She sat in the skin of a purple flying beast, whipping 
along a quarter mile above the ground, the wind tugging her midnight hair free 
of its pins, with no more apparent wonder at the experience than if she had been 
taking a horse to the cathedral city, She wore a simple dark dress that accented 
her slimness and her ivory skin, and I thought that it didn't seem right that 
someone so young and pretty should be so glum. Her eyes were focused inward, as 
though concentrating on something she needed to do or say.
When she spoke it was clear that whatever speech she was preparing was not 
intended for me. Instead she said, "I gather you and the bishop have always been 
friends, Wizard?"
"Most of the time for twenty-five years," I agreed. "Institutionalized magic and 
institutionalized religion normally have no use for each other, but Joachim and
26                                C. Dale Brittain
I have managed to be friends in spite of each thinking that the other one is 
seriously misguided on certain important points."
But Celia was not interested in the millennia-old tensions between wizardry and 
the church. "All I really need is an introduction," she said, "a chance, maybe 
only for a quarter hour, to talk to him directly. I've tried reaching him before 
but have always been put off by one priest or another, who just tell me I'm 
being silly and shouldn't bother His Holiness."
"And are you being silly?" I asked lightly, trying to take some of the sharp 
intensity from her face.
She did not smile. "It's not silly to know what you wantwhat you were meant to 
do. The only trouble is with others who think they can plan your life better 
than you can for yourself."
I nodded, not sure what I was agreeing to but thinking of Paul.
Celia and I were shown into the bishop's study after only a short wait. A shaft 
of late afternoon sunlight lay across the floor. Joachim stepped out of the 
shadows to meet us, tall and sober in his formal scarlet vestments. He lifted an 
eyebrow, mildly surprised to see a young woman with me.
I introduced her. "Forgive me, Celia, for not recognizing you at once," said the 
bishop politely. "I am always happy to see any of my spiritual sons and 
daughters, but I fear I have not spoken with you properly since you were quite a 
bit younger."
She knelt, overcome, to kiss his episcopal ring, something I myself had always 
been able to justify not doing. "Please, Holy Father," she said in a low voice, 
"don't send me away before hearing me. Don't leave, Wizard!" as I stepped toward 
the door, as though frightened of being left alone with the bishop. "I know
Daughter of Magic                           27
you have business of your own here, and thisthis should only take a minute."
Joachim blessed her, his hand resting lightly on her hair. "Rise, my daughter. 
Sit beside me and tell me what troubles your soul."
Celia gave me a quick glance as though for moral support, looked next at the 
crucifix on the wall as though hoping it would provide the support I clearly 
would not, gulped twice, and began. "Holy Father, I want to be a priest."
This was the same surprise to Joachim it was to me. Fortunately Celia kept her 
eyes on her folded hands. "When did you make this decision, my daughter?" the 
bishop asked kindly.
"I've always known it," she murmured bitterly, as though already hearing 
rejection in what sounded to me only like friendly interest. "Or, at least I've 
known it for several years. I was meant to serve God. I want to devote my life 
to bringing the absolute light of good and love to those around me. My parents 
expect me to get married and become a duchess, but I cannot."
"It would be hard for you to be a priest," said Joachim thoughtfully. "Since the 
time of Moses and Aaron, the priesthood has been entirely male. There has 
certainly always been a place in the Church for pious widows and virgins, though 
they can usually best serve God as cloistered nuns."
Celia was no widow, but she was most likely a virgin though that was not really 
for me to know.
"There is," the bishop continued, "as I am sure you know, a nunnery in the 
kingdom of Yurt well known for its rigor and purity."
"I am not going to be a nun," said Celia, quietly and distinctly. "I intend to 
bring God's message to laymen and women, especially women. They'll listen to me 
when they would never listen to some male priest."
28
C. Dale Brittain
Joachim looked toward me, eyebrows raised, over her lowered head. I shrugged my 
shoulders with no idea what to say to herespecially since I thought she had a 
point.
"You're the bishop," Celia went on when he did not answer at once, determined to 
get in everything she had come to say. "You're the supreme religious leader in 
tlie area. You can accept whomever you want into the seminary without having to 
answer to anyone."
"It is true that I have no direct superior," said Joachim, "but that does not 
mean that I answer to no one. Above all, of course, I answer to God and to the 
church structure He has ordained, then to my own conscience, and then to all die 
other bishops in this region of the western kingdoms."
"And in none of this"
"In none of this," said the bishop, "do I see women priests."
He spoke quiedy, gendy, but widi a firmness diat would have kept even me from 
disagreeing. Celia blinked hard, but no tear escaped her eye. She was, after 
all, the duchess's daughter.
"Then I guess I'll go see if I can hire a horse to return to Yurt," she said 
expressionlessly. "Thanks for the ride, Wizard."
But Joachim put a hand on her arm as she started to rise. "Do not leave 
spiritually dissatisfied. I need to speak now with the wizard, but you and I can 
talk more later. You were planning on staying in Caelrhon diis evening anyway, 
weren't you, Daimbert?" He knew all about me and Theodora, the only person 
besides the queen of Yurt who did. "If you would like to stay tonight in die 
cathedral guest house, I am sure it can be arranged," he added to Celia. "A way 
should certainly be found for someone who feels herself called by God."
Dauchter of Magic                           29
She nodded without looking up and let herself be led away by an acolyte.
"A true daughter of the duchess," I commented when the door closed. Duchess 
Diana of Yurt had always done exacdy what she liked and had never been 
comfortable herself with the life of die noble lady. She seemed to have passed 
on several key personality traits to her daughters.
IV
"Now, Joachim," I said, "tell me about this problem you're having. Somebody is 
working miracles, you say?"
He turned quickly from frowning at the door where Celia had just gone. "Yes," he 
said, shifting his attention to me. "And if they are truly miraculous, the man 
may be a saint. But somehow, something about him does not seem true."
I sat down opposite him. "How long has he been here?"
"Only about two weeks," said die bishop as though in careful consideration. 
"Some say he arrived with the Romneys, though no one has seen him with them." 
The Romneys wandered from place to place throughout the western kingdoms; I had 
noticed their caravans and horses outside the city walls as we flew in. "But 
already he"
"Give me an example," I prompted when he paused.
"What they are already calling his first miracle," said the bishop, drawing back 
so that his eyes were shadowed, "was saving the life of a little dog."
"A dog?"
"It belonged to a boy who lives down in the artisans' quarter, near the 
riverdiat is where this man seems to make his headquarters."
That was where Theodora and Antonia lived. Faint
30
C. Dale Brittain
unease prickled the hairs on the back of my neck.
"It had slipped its leash and run right under the wheel of a cart. The carter 
was very sorry, of course, but there was nothing he could have done. The boy 
picked up the dog's bodysome say its ribs were crushed, some that it was 
already dead. But as the boy, sobbing, was carrying his dog home, this man 
stopped him, very kindly. He took the dog from him, cradled it in his own arms a 
minutescores of people claim to have been eyewitnessesand returned it to the 
boy alive, unharmed and barking."
I shook my head hard. "That's not magic. Magic's never had any control over the 
earth's natural cycle of life and death. We can prolong life but not restore it 
when it's gone."
"Yes," said the bishop quietly. "For that you need the supernatural, the power 
of the saintsor of a demon."
I took a breath and released it slowly. This had suddenly become much more 
serious. I had imagined someone who had picked up a few scraps of the Hidden 
Language somewhere, trying to make a living by producing rather pathetic 
illusions and passing them off on the credulous as miracles. But this person had 
better be working real miracles. The other possibility was black magic, which 
meant he had sold his soul to the devil.
"Listen, Joachim," I said. "There are a couple of very good demonology experts 
at the wizards' school. I'll telephone themone will certainly want to come if 
this man is working with a demon. And that way"
"No," said the bishop, low and firm. "I told you, this man may be a saint. I 
don't want him accused of black magic if he is, certainly not by one of the 
masters of your school, someone with no respect either for religion or the 
Church. That is why I sent for you." I had never
Daughter of Macic                            31
had a whole lot of respect for the Church either, but I declined to mention this 
now. "I must find out where he draws his power, but I would not want him falsely 
accusedeven martyred. The truly holy man," and he paused for a second, looking 
past me out the window, "must always seem profoundly strange to those caught up 
in the petty affairs of the world."
I considered for a moment, tapping my fingers on the bishop's desk and making 
myself stop when I realized what I was doing. I had the spells, of course, to 
detect the supernatural, but those spells would not by themselves indicate if a 
supernatural power was demonic or divine. "You must have made inquiries," I 
said. "What else have you found out?"
"I did more than make inquiries. I went down to the artisans' quarter to see 
him."
"And did you meet him? How old a man is he?"
"It was hard to tell his age," said the bishop, his dark eyes distant. "He was 
tall and gaunt, with a face that looked as though he did not know how to smile."
I didn't like this at all. I had once met a demon taking human form, and this is 
just what he had looked like.
'That is," the bishop continued, "until he did smile and his whole face was 
transformed by joy and beauty."
Not a demon, then, I said as persuasively as I could to the cold sensation at 
the pit of my stomach. A demon would not smile joyously at meeting a bishop. 
That is, unless the bishop himself was sunk in sina possibility I thought I 
could safely disregard.
"I spoke with him for close to an hour," Joachim went on. "He has something of 
an accent; at first I thought he might be a Romney but he's not. He told me he 
was highly honored that I had come in person to see him, denied any particular 
merit of his own, and tried to dismiss the whole story of the little dog by 
saving that he expected the saints had heard the boy's prayers."
32                          C. Dale Brittain
This sounded like what a genuine saint would do. I tried to be reassured.
"So I was reassured," said Joachim. "He wouldn't tell me his name, saying it was 
of no importance, and I did not press him. Instead we spoke of the love of God 
for all His sons and daughters, even fallen and sunken in sin as we are. He 
seemed to have thought very little before about religious precepts, considering 
he told me he had been brought up as a Christian, but he told me he would start 
attending services at the artisans' church. In the days since I have heard he 
has become something of a favorite of the children of the quarter."
Including Antonia? I wondered in panic. "But something else happened or you 
wouldn't have telephoned me."
The bishop nodded and his enormous eyes found mine. "The children started 
bringing him, so the story goes, their broken toys, and he fixed them by passing 
his hand over them. One girl's doll had fallen in the fire, and he restored the 
charred remains to new, and better than new."
Could this possibly have been Antonia and her doll?
"This was not, of course, in the same category as restoring life, even the life 
of a dog. So I next began to wonder if perhaps he had told me truly, that the 
dog's recovery was due to the boy's prayers and not to this man's own merits. He 
could be working magical illusions out of good if mistaken intentions, I 
thought, restoring the appearance alone of wholeness, knowing the children would 
be too confused or frightened to accuse him of fraud when their toys became 
broken again in then-hands as the illusion faded. I even thought it might be 
some kind of magic different from your school magic the Romneys' spells, 
perhaps, or even witchcraft."
"The Romneys don't know any magic," I objected. "And witchcraft Have you been 
talking to Theodora?"
Daughter of Magic                      33
I must have sounded irritated, because the bishop gave a small smile. "I speak 
with her often, of course she is, after all, one of the best seamstresses 
working for the cathedralbut I would not say anything to her about magic that 
would sound accusatory without speaking to you first."
"So that's why you called me? To ask me about witchcraft?"
"No. I called you, Daimbert, to keep me from possibly making a very serious 
mistake."
Dusrmotes danced in the horizontal light from the window. The sounds of the city 
were very far away as I waited for him to continue.
"Priestsand bishopsdeal with good and evil every day," he said after a long 
pause. "But rarely do we see absolute good or absolute evil. Instead we see 
gradations of gray, virtuous paths followed only because they are not very 
demanding at the moment, sins fallen into because of laziness or a desire for 
some temporary advantage rather than because of a soul turned to darkness. Young 
Celia imagines herself a priest moving in a halo of white light In fact, priests 
move daily through petty and rather sordid sins: fust, selfishness, lies 
half-believed by the person who tells them, much of it caused by greed and 
boredom among the wealthy and by ignorance and misery among the poor. It has 
come to this, Daimbert," leaning toward me, "that when I find myself meeting a 
man who is either very holy or else working with a demon, who represents true 
good or real evil rather than a gray somewhere between, I no longer trust myself 
to tell the difference. That is why I called youyou are one of the very few 
whose judgment I trust."
So far I had a king and a bishop trusting my judgmentnow all I needed was to do 
so myself. "I had almost persuaded myself," Joachim went on,
.34
C. Dale Brittain
"that we were just very blessed in having a holy man here in Caelrhon, when the 
incident with the frog occurred."
It had been over twenty-five years since that transformations practical exam. 
Most of the time now I was able to discuss frogs without any self-consciousness. 
But the bishop's use of the term "incident with the frog" brought back all the 
embarrassment of that long-ago disaster. Even after all this time, I had never 
worked myself up to telling him about it.
"It may not be true," he continued. "There seem to have been only a few 
witnesses, and die stories diat filtered up to the cathedral do not agree on all 
points. But in essence A boy brought a frog, a live frog, to die miracle-worker 
and asked if he could kill it and dien bring it back to life. And the man did 
so."
Faint in die distance I could hear die cathedral organ playing, bass notes 
vibrating on die lower edge of audibility. "That," I said slowly, "does not 
sound like a holy man to me."
"Or to me," said die bishop.
V
And that was why, when I would rather have been visiting Theodora, I was trying 
to find a miracle-worker. Sunlight still lingered in the long June evening as I 
walked down by die river. Theodora's house was only a few blocks away, but I did 
not want to worry her before I knew if diere was somediing to be worried about.
The dockworkers had gone home, but children playing along die river's edge were 
happy to talk to me. "I haven't seen the Dog-Man today," one boy told me, "but I 
saw him yesterday. He's my friend. Are you his friend?"
"I've never met him," I said vaguely.
"But everybody knows the Dog-Man!" die boy protested.
Daughter of Magic                         35
Odier children also happily talked to me because, I suspected, diat way diey 
could plausibly ignore die faint but clear calls of mothers wanting diem to come 
home to bed. They said die man could sometimes be found in a httle shack on die 
docks. But no one seemed to have seen him recendy, and die shackwhich didn't 
even have four walls, much less an intact roofwas empty of all except a faint 
but definite trace of both magic and die supernatural.
I shook my shoulders hard to try to dispel a feeling of unease. Magic and die 
supernatural were very rarely found together. Attempts to locate magically 
whoever lived in die shack told me diere was no odier wizard in die cityor, if 
diere was, he was shielding his mind by very powerful spells. Scared off by my 
arrival now? I wondered. Or perhaps by my brief appearance in die city the day 
before? There was so much in the stories Joachim had told me diat seemed 
contradictory diat I felt I had to meet him before I could draw any conclusions.
And suppose the bishop was right, and die magic he was working was not the 
result of an abortive training at die school but radier of somediing closer to 
Theodora's witchcraft? But in that case, was the supernatural influence from die 
forces of goodor a demon?
I wouldn't know unless I found diis man. When half an hour's walking and further 
probing failed to produce him, I decided to check widi die Romneys. This 
magic-worker without a home or a name must have some place to spend die night, 
and die Romneys had always been generous toward otiiers living on die fringes of 
society.
Their vividly painted caravans were drawn into a circle, in die center of which 
were horses, goats, and several motiiers nursing dieir babies. It was growing 
dark at last, and dieir campfires flared bright. Most of the children, laughing 
widi a flash of white teedi in dark
36                             C. Dale Brittain
faces, were playing an elaborate game that seemed to involve a great deal of 
running, screaming, and ducking in and out between the caravans. One woman 
shouted at them futilely in the Romney language.
I spun an illusory golden cord around the waist of a boy as he raced by. When he 
did not slow down the cord became a snake, ruby-eyed, winding its way up his arm 
and vibrating its tongue at him. He stopped at once, staring amazed and putting 
his other hand right through it as he tried to seize it. "Very good, Wizard!" he 
called then, spotting me.
The children now ran to circle around me. I spoke quickly before the adults 
could tell them to give me no information. "I'm looking for someone they call 
Dog-Man in the city," I said as casually as I could. "He's another magic worker, 
they say, and I wonder if he's here in your encampment. I'd like to meet him."
"I heard about Dog-Man," said one girl. "Someone said he smashed a pot and put 
it back together again."
This certainly didn't sound like any magic they had taught us in school. "But 
where is he now?" The Romney woman was bearing down rapidly on us.
The children looked at each other, shrugged, and laughed. "We don't know! We 
haven't seen him. Have you seen him?"
They scattered then, laughing and squealing. The woman, scowling under her red 
scarf, looked after them and then at me as though wondering whether to strike me 
with a Romney curse or offer to tell my fortune.
"I'm looking for someone," I said ingratiatingly, "called Dog-Man. He's just 
been here a couple of weeks but is already gaining a reputation as a 
miracle-worker." When she continued to frown, I added, "I'm a friend of 
Theodora's."
Theodora the Romneys all knew. The woman's expression suddenly cleared. She 
smiled broadly, flashing gold
Daughter of Magic                      37
teeth below a lip that sprouted a long bristle. "You're her wizard friend!" But 
she shook her head. "I have never seen the Dog-Man myself. He has not visited 
our camp." I spun her an illusion of her own, a bracelet of scarlet blossoms, 
thanked her, and headed back through the darkening air toward the lights of the 
city. First I would go by the episcopal palace and leave a note for the bishop, 
telling him of my lack of success in finding the man but suggesting hopefully 
that he might have left Caelrhon as inexplicably as he had arrived. Then I would 
go talk to Theodora. I had wanted to keep her out of this, but she might be the 
only person who could help me find someone who very clearly did not want to be 
found.
Simultaneously I knocked at Theodora's door and called to her direcdy, mind to 
mind, so she would know who was outside her house at this hour of the evening. 
"It's me."
She swung the door open hard, her amethyst eyes round. "Antonia's fine," I said 
rapidly, realizing too late how startling it must be to have someone at her door 
from whom she had just gotten a pigeon-message saying he was forty miles away. 
"Everyone's fine. Antonia is safely in Yurt with the duchess's twins. But the 
bishop needed to talk to me, and I couldn't miss the opportunity to see you." I 
took her face between my hands and kissed her. "Did you get those dresses done 
on time?"
She smiled then and pulled me inside. "It's wonderful to see you, Daimbert. I'm 
sorry that I was too busy to talk yesterday. Yes, I got the dresses done on 
time." I had told her more than once that I had plenty of money from what they 
paid me in Yurt and that she needn't sew for a living, but she had always 
insisted that she wanted to support herself.
Theodora cleared a space on the couch, wadding cloth
38
C. Dale Brittain
scraps and loose threads into a bag, piling pattern pieces on the table, giving 
me quick, happy glances as she worked. I knew enough to stay out of the way. She 
lit the magic lamp that she had agreed to accept from me and smiled again as the 
room was flooded with warm lightshowing more cloth scraps scattered across the 
floor and under the table. Also under the table was a worn toy dragon. "Its a 
good thing," Theodora commented, "that wizards aren't any tidier than 
seamstresses, or you'd never want to visit me. So how is Antonia liking Yurtand 
the duchess's daughters?"
We setded ourselves comfortably, my arm around Theodora and her head on my 
shoulder. She had always alternated between being affectionate and good-humored 
as she was now, and beingwell, not lacking in affection, but somehow distant, 
as though wanting to keep some aspects of her life independent from me. I told 
her how Gwennie had insisted that it would be improper for Antonia to stay in my 
chambers, and how the twins seemed to enjoy her.
"She seems happier with them than with me," I finished, finding it coming out 
more plaintively than I intended.
"She loves you, Daimbert," Theodora said in reassurance. "She's just more used 
to women. That's why I'm so glad you're having a chance to be together."
If we ever did. I realized Antonia, happy to sit on my lap but not laughing at 
my most amusing illusions, had the same inner private reserve as her mother
"And what did the bishop need?" Theodora continued. She kissed the corner of my 
cheek. "This is probably not what a wizard likes to hear, but one of the best 
side-benefits of knowing you has been the opportunity to become, at least a 
little bit, friends with a bishop."
She laughed as she spoke, but there was an emotional note to her voice when she 
mentioned Joachim that
Dauchter of Macic                            39
sounded as though she rated him more highly than any wizard. But I dismissed 
this thought. I was just being irritable because I was worried about the 
purported miracle-worker.
"There's someone working magicor something here in Caelrhon," I said abrupdy. 
"The children call him the Dog-Man. Do you know him?"
Theodora turned in the circle of my arm to look at me. It was full dark outside 
now, and the lamp made wavering points of light in her eyes. "Its not any magic 
I know," she said quiedy.
I pulled her closer. "Then you've met him? Is he really working miracles? Or-" 
and found I couldn't say it.
She shook her head, her hair moving against my beard. "I don't know what he's 
doing. I've not met him in person, only sensed his mind. There's something about 
him that is, wellnot right. I can't say that he's evil, but there is nothing 
about him like the force of good that flows from the bishop."
Joachim again. I kept silent.
"A lot of the children in the neighborhood have made something of a pet of him. 
I've gotten to know the children well through Antonia, and they talk to me about 
him. He's been living in a litde shack on the docks, made from scrap lumber, and 
the children bring him food from home. I told Antonia I didn't want her down 
there. I don't think she's disobeyed me yet. . . . That was part of the reason I 
wanted her in Yurt now. But I couldn't tell you that yesterday, with her 
standing right there."
This sounded to me too like an excellent reason to have Antonia in Yurt. The 
castle had had a giant pentagram put around it by my predecessor as Royal 
Wizard. Unless someone had moved the stones over the years, no demon would want 
to enter the castle because he would be unable to leave again. "I tried
40                                C. Dale Brittain
without success to find the man. No one has seen him since yesterday."
Theodora went still a moment, slipping her mind away into her own magic. "I 
don't find him either," she said then. "Maybe he's gone."
That was fine with me. Maybe he'd left Caelrhon for a kingdom where die Royal 
Wizard would spot him before the local bishop did, where no one would be too 
squeamish to call for a demonology expert. "Then I don't have to worry about him 
anymore," I said, finding Theodora's lips. "Say! You know you're always worried 
that Antonia will wake up"
She laughed, pushing me away with hands on my chest. "I'll kiss you as much as 
you like, as loudly as you likebut wouldn't that be disgusting, to make big 
smacking kisses just because no one is here to overhear them?but that's it. 
Remember our agreement."
I leaned back, exasperated. "I don't remember making an agreement diat would 
last diis long."
"Yes, you do," she said teasingly, diough I was not about to be teased back into 
good humor over this. "I know the bishop explained it to you. We have sinned, 
been penitent, and been forgiven, but that means we must be even more careful. 
We are not married, and we cannot act as diough we were."
"So we made one mistake," I said in irritation, "one big mistake six years ago, 
and now it's going to ruin die rest of our lives?"
"We have Antonia," she said mildly. "I would not call her die ruin of our lives. 
She is radier a reason for us to be supremely grateful."
"And do whatever die bishop tells us," I grumbled. Maybe I should have been 
angry with Joachim, but diis all seemed like Theodora's fault. "Since when does 
a witch pay so much attention to a Church diat considers all magic 
dangerousespecially women's magic?"
Daughter of Magic                      41 .
"Since when does a wizard come racing to town the instant a bishop telephones 
him?" she shot back.
But dien she looked at me, gave a smile that brought out die dimple in her 
cheek, and took me by die ears and kissed me on die eyelids. "Don't be angry, 
Daimbert. I get so litde chance to see you. I want to talk to you about what's 
happening in Yurt. Let me make us some tea."
She was right, I diought, watching her light the fire for die water and forcing 
myself to stop frowning. I didn't want to waste diis time widi her by arguing. 
The easiest answer, of course, would have been to get married, but I no longer 
dared ask her. She had always refused, always would refuse, saying it would be 
die ruin of my wizardry career. But sometimes, like now, I wondered if that was 
die real reason. As fond as she was of me, I apparendy did not "excite her to 
the very core of her being," or whatever it was King Paul was waiting for: she 
herself did not want to marry me.
"Are you sure diere isn't somebody else?" I asked, trying to make it sound like 
a joke and not succeeding.
"Of course not," she said briskly, getting out cups. "I promised you years ago 
diat you would be die only one."
When people got married, I thought gloomily, diey promised to forsake all others 
and cleave only to each other. Theodora seemed happy witii die first half of 
tiiat promise but not die second. I was a wizard, widi powers supposedly so 
great diat die only reason I served a king radier than being a ruler of men 
myself was the service tradition of institutionalized magic. Yet here I was 
stymied by a witch and a five-year-old girl.
PART TWO
Lady Justinia I
"A flying creature is coming," Antonia told me calmly. She had tugged open the 
door of my chambers, looking in from the sunlit courtyard to where I was 
finishing a late breakfast back home in Yurt. "Do you think its a dragon?"
I was past her and out into the courtyard in a second. Something small and dark, 
flying much too fast to be a cloud, approached from the south. I snatched her up 
as I tried to put a far-seeing spell together. "I always wanted to see a real 
dragon," she said.
But it was not a dragon. It was a flying carpet.
Dark red with tasseled corners, it flew purposefully toward the castle, 
hesitated and rotated a moment overhead, then plunged down to land in the middle 
of the courtyard. On it, feet shackled together, stood a young elephant. As I 
watched in amazement it raised its trunk and trumpeted, the sound echoing from 
the cobblestones.
But the elephant was not all the carpet carried. A person was also seated on it, 
surrounded by boxes and parcels that tumbled off as the carpet came to a stop.
43
44
C. Dale Brittain
"In the name of all-merciful God," came a high woman's voice, "is this at last 
the kingdom of Yurt, or have I passed quite beyond the fringes of the civilized 
world?"
I stepped forward cautiously. I had only ever seen elephants once before, years 
ago on our quest to the East. The woman rose with a swirl of black hair that 
reached to her waist. "This is indeed the kingdom of Yurt," I said, keeping an 
eye on the animal.
Antonia, who had been staring in as much astonishment as I, elbowed me as though 
to remind me of better manners. "Welcome to Yurt!" she called out. In a 
confidential undertone she added, "That's an elephant, Wizard. Mother showed me 
a picture of one in a book. They aren't dangerous unless they step on you."
The woman smiled then, her curved lips crimson, black almond-shaped eyes taking 
in both me and the girl. Her eyelids were painted an iridescent blue and her red 
silk blouse was nearly transparent. I found myself tugging at my jacket and 
standing straighter. "I am Daimbert, the Royal Wizard."
"At last," she said, stepping from the carpet. "Thou art exacdy the one I 
sought. By my faith, it seems an age since my feet have touched the earth. My 
elephant requires hay and water. And aid my servant in bringing the baggage to 
my chambers."
Antonia saw the servant first. I had taken him for one more parcel until he 
unfolded himself to stand up and My daughter gasped in my ear. He was not a 
parcel but not a man either. This lady's servant was a shiny metallic automaton.
He started gatiiering up packages, one in each of his six arms, and waited, 
staring silentiy out of flat silvery eyes toward me for directions. The elephant 
wrinkled the leathery skin all along its back and looked around the courtyard. 
"I'm sorry, my lady," I managed to say. "I don't know who you are."
Daughter of Magic
45
"Justinia, granddaughter of the governor of Xantium," she said as though 
surprised that anyone should not know. She reached with a jangle of bracelets 
into a leather bag. "But here. This message is for thee."
The parchment was written all over in indecipherable characters. But I had seen 
something like this before. A few quick words in the Hidden Language, and the 
letters scurried across die page, changing their shapes and forming themselves 
into legible words.
It was from Kaz-alrhun, the greatest mage in the eastern city of Xantium. I had 
known him years ago; when our party from Yurt had been in the East he had saved 
all our lives. It seemed that he was now asking for the return of that favor.
"May God's grace be on you, Daimbert," the message ran. "This letter will 
introduce to you the Lady Justinia of Xantium. She is the governor's 
granddaughter and my own distant niece. Certain political events in Xantium have 
put her in line for assassination, so it seemed safest to remove her far from 
the city. I learn tfiat die king of Yurt I knew is dead, but I am certain the 
court of Yurt will welcome her for old friendship's sake. Justinia is not a 
princess, as the governors rule only in the name of an Empire gone fifteen 
centuries, but she should be treated like a princess."
I looked up from the parchment. Justinia was gazing around her. "This casde is 
most fair!" she exclaimed. "It is like unto a child's toy!"
The arrival of a flying carpet in the courtyard, laden with an elephant, an 
eastern governor's granddaughter, an automaton, and all their luggage, had 
naturally attracted attention. The chaplain, short and fussy, scurried up beside 
me. "Do you think she can possibly be a Christian, looking like tiiat?" he asked 
in a loud whisper, bodi shocked and intrigued.
Justinia overheard him. "Of a certainty I am a
46                                C. Dale Brittain
Christian," she said haughtily. "AH of Xantium s governors have always followed 
the true faith."
King Paul and Hildegarde came in across the drawbridge, practice swords in their 
hands. Paul stopped dead as Justinia turned with a swirl of her skirt. I wasn't 
sure he even noticed the elephant. "Welcome, Lady," he stammered as she favored 
him with a devastating smile. "I am the king of Yurt."
His sword dangled unheeded and his mouth came partly open as she gave a deep, 
graceful curtsey, her head lowered but her eyes giving him a look of assessment. 
"I am honored to meet thee, most high king," she said then, one eyebrow cocked 
and an amused twitch to her lips. "I was told the king of Yurt was a boy. Verily 
my uncle the mage has inadequate information." I decided I didn't have to worry 
after all that Paul might not find women romantically attractive.
"I desire to learn all the quaint customs of the West," Justinia continued. "Now 
here is another wonder!" looking Hildegarde up and down. "Is the royal guard 
made up quite entire of such women? Are they perhaps bred for this purpose? This 
one is of a certainty a fine specimen! Or is she perhaps thy concubine?"
"No, she's my cousin," said Paul with an embarrassed laugh, not looking at 
Hildegarde. She hooked her thumbs into her belt and frowned, as if not entirely 
sure what about the Lady Justinia she found insulting.
Gwennie came hurrying up at this point, before Justinia could ask us further 
about our western customs. "This lady is a very important visitor to Yurt from 
the East," I said hurriedly. "Her great-uncle once did all of us a great 
service. Could you find her some appropriate accommodations?"
"The stables should suffice for my elephant," said Justinia. "He is still quite 
young."
"Welcome to Yurt!" said Gwennie, as polite as
Daughter of Magic                           47
Antonia in spite of her surprise. She gave the king a quick glance and looked 
away again. "What a lovely dress, my lady! And what a, well, unusual way to 
arrive! Come right this way; the best guest chambers are in the south tower."
The automaton stepped off the carpet with a jangling of joints to follow them. 
Gwennie gave a sharp gesture behind her back and several servants sprang 
forward, somewhat belatedly, to pick up the rest of the baggage. Paul remained 
stock-still until Hildegarde took him rather firmly by the elbow.
I looked thoughtfully after the Lady Justinia and Gwennie. As I recalled, in the 
East slaves were common, and even trusted servants might throw themselves on 
their faces to kiss the ground at a master's foot. But the lady did not seem to 
mind the relative informality of Yurt's staff.
The automaton returned in a moment to unshackle the elephant. Highly dubious 
stable boys led it away, leaving the dark red carpet by itself in the courtyard. 
The elephant stopped at the watering trough, drank deeply, then shot a trunkful 
of water across its back and all over the stable boys.
"Maybe I can see a dragon some other time," said Antonia, to reassure me in case 
I thought her disappointed. "But I've never seen an elephant before. Or a flying 
carpet either."
"I rode on one once," I said, "all the way, hundreds and thousands of miles, 
from the East back to Yurt." Antonia looked at me with new respect.
Five minutes later, while I was examining the carpet and wondering if I might be 
able to keep it long enough to learn how the underlying spells worked that made 
it fly, Gwennie came racing back from the south tower. Paul and Hildegarde had 
gone outside again, although the king had appeared distracted enough that I 
thought
48
C. Dale Brittain
the duchess's daughter might have a chance to defeat him today.
"Do you know what she said?" Gwennie demanded. Her eyes were wide and voice 
high. "She said she thought it very 'quaint' that Yurt has a woman as vizier! 
And then she asked if I would 'bid the slaves' to come draw her bath!"
"And what did you tell her?"
"I don't think we have slaves," provided Antonia.
Gwennie smiled for a second and ruffled the girl's hair. "We don't. That's what 
I told her. I did tell her I could assign her a lady's maid for her stay. She 
started to pull herself up, as though about to tell me I was a worthless vizier 
who should throw herself into the moat at once, but then she relaxed and said 
she was sure she could cope with some 'inconveniences' while fleeing for her 
life, especially since she also had her servant. Have you ever seen anything 
like that creature, Wizard?"
"The mage Kaz-alrhun makes automatons; I assume it's one of his."
Gwennie shook her head. "If 7 was fleeing for my life I wouldn't be worried 
about a slave shortage! I'd better send her a maid before this fine lady has to 
resort to something as degrading as pumping the hot water herself. Now, let's 
see, which of the girls would be both skilled and obsequious, and unlikely to be 
spooked by that thing. ..."
The maids Gwennie referred to as "girls" were all older than she was. I smiled 
to myself as she turned on her heel, her mind apparently madevup.
But she stopped for a second. "I'll tell you one thing, Wizard," she said in a 
low, intense voice. "That lady would make a terrible queen of Yurt."
"How about a ride?" suggested Antonia, tugging at the tassels on the carpet. "I 
wasn't scared in your air cart," she added when I did not answer at once.
Daughter of Macic                           49
"All right," I said, giving her a conspiratorial grin. "It's not our flying 
carpet, but the Lady Justinia won't be needing it for a while. And I think I 
still remember the magical commands to direct one of these things. . .."
I seated myself, Antonia in my lap, and gave the command to lift off. The carpet 
shot upward, far faster than the air cart, and headed rapidly south. The girl's 
braids blew back into my face. "All right there?" I asked cheerfully, holding 
her closer.
"This is exciting, Wizard!" she shouted over the wind's roar. Birds dodged out 
of our way. "Can we take Mother for a ride too?"
"We'd better notit's too far to get to Caelrhon and be back before anyone 
misses the carpet." And besides, I was supposed to be spending time alone with 
Antonia this week. Was it my fault that I too would rather have been with 
Theodora?
"And I'm looking for something," I added. I slowed the carpet's flight with a 
few words in the Hidden Language, and we hovered while I put together a 
far-seeing spell to examine all the distant clouds in the sky before us.
If Justinia was the object of an assassination plot, I wanted to make sure she 
had not been followed to Yurt. Since Kaz-alrhun had entrusted her safety to me, 
I had to make sure she wasn't killed in our best guest-room. The mage, I 
thought, had probably done his best to get her off unnoticed, and he might not 
have told even the governor himself where he was sending her, but I didn't like 
to take chances.
"Nothing there," I said to Antonia after a minute. "Just clouds."
"No dragons?" she said, making it into a joke.
"No. Dragons would probably come from the north anyway. Let's get back to the 
castle."
As we shot back home a chilling thought struck me.
50                             C. Dale Brittain
Suppose the arrival of the miracle-worker in Caelrhon and his abrupt 
disappearance yesterdaywere somehow related to the Lady Justinia's arrival in 
Yurt?
But I could not think of a plausible connection. He had already been in Caelrhon 
when Justinia left Xantium, and I could not imagine that anyone in the East 
would have learned where she was going and gotten an assassin here so far ahead 
of her arrival. And the lady herself was unlikely to have spent the last few 
weeks in hiding, disguised as someone who healed broken dolls and dead dogs.
II
"I hope you realize," said Zahlfast testily, "that I can't send a demonology 
expert from the faculty racing off to Yurt unless you've actually got a demon! 
We have classes here to teach."
When Antonia had been whisked away by the twins to take a nap after lunch, I had 
gone to telephone the wizards' school. So far I wasn't having any luck getting 
help there. Zahlfast, second in command at the school, had long ago become my 
friend in spite of my disastrous transformations practical in his course. But 
the faintest suggestion that I was being drawn into the affairs of the Church 
had always riled him.
"Of course," I said quickly. "I'm not asking for anyone to come here now. But 
since this magic-worker appeared suddenly and inexplicably in Caelrhon and then 
disappeared again just as inexplicably, I wanted to warn you in case he suddenly 
shows up again, working his miracles or whatever they arewith or without a 
demonin some other part of the western kingdoms."
"Well, certainly no other wizard has said anything to us about awhat did you 
call him? A Cat-Man? And do you know what we would do," Zahlfast continued,
Daughter of Magic                      51
an edge to his voice, "if there was a strange magic-worker in your region, one 
there in fact as well as in rumor? We'd ask a nearby wizard to look into it, 
someone experienced: one, say, who'd had his degree twenty-five years or so. . . 
."
"Oh, I'm investigating all right," I said lamely, though there wasn't a lot I 
could do unless the Dog-Man came back. When Zahlfast rang off I stared gloomily 
at the stone wall before me, short of good ideas.
Part of my problem was that I felt too close to this situation. The irrational 
feeling kept nagging me that the Dog-Man had disappeared from Caelrhon in order 
to bring evil to Yurt Zahlfast thought I was overreacting, and maybe I was, but 
I could not take any situation lightly when it could affect my daughter. 
Although wizards were usually in fierce competition with each other, in this 
case I would have been willing to admit to deficiencies in my own magic to get 
the help of another skilled wizard.
I thought briefly of Elerius, generally considered the best student the school 
had ever produced. He had learned or guessed quite a bit about Theodora and me, 
and he might even feel he owed me a favor since I had never told anyone several 
secrets I had learned or guessed about him. But on the other hand I had never 
quite trusted him, and when we last met our relationship could hardly have been 
called cordial.
This was my problem. Zahlfast didn't want other wizards investigating purported 
miracles in Joachim's cathedral city any more than the bishop did. As long as 
the man didn't returnand as long as nothing touched Antonia I could act as 
though I was on top of the situation.
In the meantime I intended to learn more about the plots against the Lady 
Jusrinia and how the decision had been made to send her to Yurt After all, the 
mage had sent her specifically to me.
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C. Dale Brittain
Out in the courtyard I was startled to see a small blue-clad figure, carrying a 
doll, walking purposefully toward my chambers. I ran out to meet her
"There you are, Wizard," Antonia said, looking up at me with pleased sapphire 
eyes. "I was just looking for you."
I had to smile back, although all the dangers a child could get into wandering 
around a castle by herself flashed through my mind. "I thought you were with 
Hildegarde and Celia." Theodora, I thought, must have to be constantly alert to 
what our daughter was doing; maybe having her away in Yurt was a welcome 
respite.
"I like them," said Antonia as I hoisted her onto my shoulder. "But they wanted 
me to take a nap, and I didn't want to. I came here to see you, Wizard, not some 
ladies." So she had been regretting not spending more time with me while I was 
regretting the same thing! "Celia is sad," she added as I walked toward the 
south tower. "She wants to be a priest and the bishop won't let her."
And Hildegarde wanted to be a knight and Gwennie the queen of Yurt, and it 
didn't look as though any of them stood a chance. "What do you want to be, 
Antonia?"
"A wizard. I already told you that. Do you think," she added thoughtfully, "that 
it would help if I talked to the bishop about Celia? He's my friend."
I gave her a bounce, tickled to hear such adult concern in a child's high voice. 
"He's my friend too, but I don't think it will help for anyone to talk to him." 
A cold thought struck me. "You aren't by any chance also friends withwith 
someone they call Dog-Man?"
"No," she said regretfully. "Mother said I couldn't play with him anymore. But 
my friend Jen got her doll burned all up," she added with enthusiasm, "and he 
fixed it. That's what I'll do when I'm a wizard: fix toys for people."
Daughter of Macic
53
This was certainly a novel motivation for becoming a wizard. But I did not 
respond because we were now at the Lady Justinia's door. Gwennie had put her in 
the finest rooms the castle had to offer guests, the suite where the king of 
Caelrhon stayed when he visited.
Her automaton answered the door, stared at me with its flat metallic eyes for a 
moment, then motioned us inside. Antonia, staring, squeezed me around the neck 
until it was hard to breathe.
Justinia rose from the couch and came to meet me. I managed to loosen Antonia's 
arms from around my neck and gave a reasonable approximation of the formal 
half-bow. "I trust you are finding everything satisfactory, my lady?" I said. 
From what Gwennie had said, she had better be. "Now that I hope you've had a 
chance to settle in, I'd like to learn more of why you had to leave Xantium."
She waved me to a chair and reseated herself but did not seem immediately 
interested in talking about her affairs. Antonia perched on my knee. "That cold 
meat at luncheon, O Wizard," Justinia asked, "prepared in a most bland style: 
was it perhaps beef?"
"Of course it was," Antonia provided, with an air of showing off her own 
superior knowledge.
Justinia smiled. "Know then, my child, I have had but brief acquaintance with 
beef. It is eaten rarely in Xantium."
Antonia thought this over. "How about chicken? How about bread? How about 
onions?"
But I interrupted before they could go into culinary comparisons of east and 
west "Since the mage entrusted you to me, my lady, I hope you will allow me to 
ask what foes forced you to leave home, and what likelihood there is that they 
will follow you here."
Justinia gave a flick of her graceful wrist, jangling
54                             C. Dale Brittain
her bracelets as though to dismiss such dangers as unimportant. "It is the old 
controversy between my grandfather and the Thieves' Guild, of course," she said 
in a bored voice. "It was destiny's decree that the controversy arise again. All 
believed it settled a great many years ago, when I was but very small, back 
when" and for a moment her voice became faint "back when they assassinated my 
parents."
"What's assassinated?" Antonia asked, but I shushed her.
"My grandfather the governor declared that the thieves were becoming far too 
frequent on the streets of Xantium, even in the harbor which was forbidden them, 
and that he would shut down the Thieves' Market if they could not conform to 
their earlier agreement. The Guild replied that they could not be responsible 
for the doings of non-Guild members, and that the governor's taxes on their 
Market had risen most exceedingly. Tensions were such that Well, my grandfather 
did not desire the lives of any of his family again used as negotiating tokens."
"I understand, my lady," I said gravely, glad Yurt had never had anything like 
this deadly political maneuvering. But then the wizards of the western kingdoms 
would never allow it to come to this. "But why did you come here?"
She had been playing with her rings while she talked, but now she turned to look 
at me over a half-bare shoulder with her dark almond-shaped eyes. "It is very 
far from Xantium. Or if I may speak boldly, from anywhere else."
This was reasonably accurate; Yurt, one of the smallest of the western kingdoms, 
would not normally be a place of which anyone in the East had heard. But our 
quest fifteen years ago had alerted a number of powerful people, not just the 
mage Kaz-alrhun, to the existence
Daughter of Magic                         55
of Yurt. I hoped that none of them would be people in contact with the Thieves' 
Guild.
"Wait a minute," I said. "I thought the mage operated out of the Thieves' Market 
himself. Why should your grandfather trust him?" I had no intention of being 
manipulated into being part of a devious double-edged plot against a lovely 
young woman.
"When one's life is in most dire danger," she said in a tone that sounded not 
young but very old and weary, "one trusts no one." She nodded toward the 
automaton. "That is why I brought him with me."
And the mage had doubtless made the automaton as well. I had been able to work 
with him in the East because our purposes coincided, and we had eaten his saltI 
wondered how long the beneficial effects ofthat were supposed to last.
As I left the Lady Justinia's chambers one of the castle servants met me. "You 
have a telephone call, sir," he said, looking anxious. "I thinkI think it's 
from the bishop."
"Tell him I'll be right there!" I darted across the courtyard, delighting 
Antonia, who was riding on my shoulder again, and opened the door to my 
chambers. "Stay here," I told her. "I'll be back soon. Don't leave for any 
reason."
"All right, Wizard," she said agreeably. "Or should I call you Daimbert, die way 
Mother does? Would you like that better?"
I closed the door without answering and hurried to the telephone. Whatever the 
bishop had to tell me, I did not think Antonia should hear it. But I immediately 
began to imagine the harm she could do to herself in my rooms, starting with 
pulling down a bookshelf on top of herself.
The bishop was actually smiling. "I must apologize,
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Daimbert, for bothering you yesterday. The man has returned, and I believe all 
my questions have been answered."
"Well, that's wonderful," I said in amazement. "But What happened?"
"He came up to me in the cathedral after the noon service," said Joachim. "As 
you can imagine, I was quite surprised." So was I, but I almost dared be 
encouraged. A demon would not, I thought, enter a consecrated cadiedral to talk 
to a bishop. "He told me he wants to be a priest."
"A priest?" First Celia and now the Dog-Man. I tried unsuccessfully to tell from 
die tiny image of Joachims face if he actually believed this or was only trying 
to persuade himself of it.
"He told me he has powers in himself he does not fully understand, but he feels 
God has called him and he wants to be trained to use those powers to help 
others."
I myself didn't believe a word of it. If what I had sensed down by the docks was 
accurate, this man had die highly unusual combination of magical abilities and 
contact widi die supernatural. A holy man who could heal a wounded dog, maybe. A 
magic-worker who had the power to fix broken toys, just possibly. But diis man 
had, if the stories were right, begun to kill just to restore life, and he did 
not dare talk to a wizard.
At least Antonia was safely in Yurt. "That's good to hear, Joachim," I said, 
because I didn't know what else to say widiout more information. "Let me know 
how it all works out" As I returned to my chambers I diought that diis man, 
whoever he was, seemed to have found the one certain way to defuse die bishop's 
suspicions.
His questions might all be answered, but mine were just beginning. I found 
Antonia sitting in my best chair, legs straight out in front of her, poring over 
a book as
Dauchter of Magic                      57
diough actually reading it. I smiled and reached for my copy of die Diplomatica 
Diaholica.
Leafing through it was not encouraging. I sneezed from dust; it had been a long 
time since I had had diis volume off the shelf. It confirmed what I already 
knew, diat a demon in human form would not be able to wander, unsummoned, into a 
cathedral. But a person who had sold his soul to die devil, who was using the 
black arts for supernatural effects, would still be able to do all die ordinary 
diings, like enter churches, diat the rest of us did, those of us who might well 
be damned but didn't know it yet.
The book, being written by and for wizards, did not direcdy address die question 
the bishop might have asked, whedier someone who had sold his soul could still 
save it by becoming a priest. But it was not encouraging. The book didn't offer 
any way out at all for such a personshort perhaps (and only perhaps) of skilled 
negotiations by a demonology expert.
I reshelved die volume slowly, wondering if a demon would have too much sense of 
self-preservation to let die person who had summoned it spend time in close 
association with the saints who always clustered around churches. Saints, I told 
myself hopefully, should be perfecdy capable of returning a demon to hell all by 
diemselves, no matter what the book said.
'What's this word, Wizard?" asked Antonia.
I realized widi a start diat she was not just pretending to read but was 
actually reading Elements of Transmogrification. "It's the Hidden Language," I 
said, scooping die book from her lap and returning it to die shelf. "Your mother 
and I will teach it to you when you're older."
She jumped down from die chair, indignant. "I was reading diat! Give it back!"
"No, no. I'm sorry, Antonia, but it's really not suitable for you."
58
C. Dale Brittain
Tears started from her sapphire eyes, and she stamped a foot hard on my 
flagstone floor. "It's not^air! You can't just take my book away! Where's my 
mother? I want my mother!"
I picked her up, trying to soothe her, but she wiggled free and began to cry in 
good earnest. "I was reading]"
"You're just cranky because you didn't have your nap," I said encouragingly, 
feeling panic set in. "Maybe if you have your nap"
"I am not cranky]" she shouted, tears pouring down her cheeks.
I gave up trying to calm a distraught little girl and lifted her from the floor 
with magic, startling her so much she stopped crying for a moment, and flew 
across the courtyard with her to the twins' suite.
ni
They were both there, Hildegarde wearing her leather tunic and sword belt but 
sitting disconsolately in the window seat, and Celia reading her Bible with an 
aggrieved angle to her chin as though finding things in it different from what 
the bishop had told her.
"You haven't seen Paul, have you?" Hildegarde asked me, but not as though she 
really cared. "The king really liked Justinia's dress," she added over her 
shoulder to her sister. "Maybe you should get one like it, Celia, if Father ever 
takes us to Xantium as he keeps saying he will," but even this teasing sounded 
halfhearted. "Here," to Antonia. "Stop crying and I'll let you hold my knife."
I was horror-struck, but Antonia gulped back her sobs and reached for die knife. 
Hildegarde closed the girl's small fingers around the handle. "Hold it very 
carefully," she said, "so nobody-gets hurt."
"The wizard wouldn't let me read my book," said Antonia, looking at me from 
under lowered eyebrows
Daughter of Magic                           59
and holding the knife in a way I would have called threatening.
I stood back a safe distance. "I tliink the king went riding after lunch," I 
said to Hildegarde. Paul tended to react to anything which he had to think over 
by taking his stallion out for a miles-long run. Even if he didn't end up 
exploring some ruined castle or scenic waterfall, he might be gone for hours, 
occasionally even days. No one, not even the queen motiher, had ever been able 
to persuade him that a king should have an escort when galloping around the 
countryside. Besides, no other horse in the kingdom could keep up with Bonfire.
"Earlier he'd said he was going to show me some exercises. But I guess," 
Hildegarde added witli a deep sigh, "that he was just humoring me. He doesn't 
drink I can be a knight any more than anybody else does."
Either that, I thought but did not say, or Lady Justinia's arrival had 
distracted him so much he had forgotten everything else.
"I was going to be a wizard," said Antonia with a dark look for me, "but now I 
think I'll be a knight too."
"Knights need their naps," said Hildegarde, unfolding herself from the window 
seat. "Don't I remember tucking you in over an hour ago, you litde scamp? And 
then," with a laugh, "I looked up and saw you out in the courtyard with the 
wizard!"
"What's a scamp?A asked Antonia.
"Scamps are mischievous people who have a mind of their own," said Hildegarde. 
"I used to be a scamp myself." I was surprised she put it in the past tense.
Antonia allowed herself to be taken off to bed in a much better mood than I 
could have anticipated a few minutes ago. Hildegarde casually slid the knife 
from the girl's hand back into her own belt.
"Celia," I said when the others had left the room, "I need you to do something 
for me."
60
C. Dale Brittain
"Of course, Wizard. Do you need to leave the girl with us again while you go 
somewhere?"
"No," I said slowly, "but I would like you to go somewhere for me. Down in 
Caelrhon there's a man someone whose name I don't know but who has been 
nicknamed the Dog-Manwho wants to be a priest too. I wish you would talk to 
him."
Celia put her Bible down very slowly. "Is this a joke, Wizard?" she asked as 
though not quite sure whether to be irritated. "I remember the tricks you used 
to play to amuse Hildegarde and me when we were little. Because if you think you 
can make me forget"
"No, no," I said before she could make this any messier than it already was. 
"I'm absolutely serious." Some of the tricks I had played on the twins had been 
pretty good, I recalled; I should try them on Antonia if she was still speaking 
to me. There was the one where I pretended to snip off a girl's nose with my 
fingertips, then presented a plausible illusory nose for her inspection, or the 
one where I tossed a butter knife in the air, went to catch it, gave a 
bloodcurdling yell and presented my arm with the hand "cut off," that is made 
magically invisible. . . .
But I shouldn't be distracted. "This man, Celia, has apparendy persuaded the 
bishop that he has been touched by God, but I'm suspicious of him. He's hiding 
from mewhich is part of the reason I'm suspicious. So I need someone who has a 
pure religious vocation, but someone who doesn't automatically agree with, the 
bishop on everything, to find out more about him."
"More about him?" said Celia, sounding bewildered.
"Find out why he's suddenly appeared in Caelrhon, how he's doing what look like 
miraclesbut maybe aren'tlearn how deep are his religious convictions: all the 
things the bishop is unwilling to ask him."
She gave me a level stare. "You're asking me to do something behind His 
Holiness's back?"
Daughter of Macic                         61
"Well, yes, I guess so. But I can see," I added hastily, "that it was probably 
wrong to ask you, that"
"I'll do it, Wizard."
"You will?" I said, startled.
"Women often understand people, both men and women, better than men do," she 
said firmly. "This way I may be able to help the Church if your suspicions are 
accurate." She suddenly grinned. "And if I can show the bishop my powers of 
spiritual discernment, he may realize he's made a big mistake. Now, tell me more 
about this man."
An hour later Celia rode away from the castle toward Caelrhon, telling me she 
hoped to be back in a few days and would send me a pigeon-message in the 
meantime if she discovered anything interesting. Hildegarde decided at the last 
moment to go with her, announcing that no future duchess should ride across two 
kingdoms without an armed warrior to accompany her and protect her. The twins 
had ridden up from the ducal casde unescorted, and Celia had dismissed my 
suggestion that a few of the casde's knights ought to go with her to Caelrhon, 
and without Paul there to back me up there was no way I could change her mind.
As I watched the twins' horses disappearing, I hoped diat the bishop would not 
be too insulted at my sending a woman to prove him wrong.
Antonia, still partly asleep, came out with me to see them off, trailing her 
doll behind her. "Before I took my nap, Wizard," she said, "you picked me up 
without touching me and lifted me high in the air. Is that magic? Can you do it 
again? And you have to teach me how to do it to Dolly."
With the duchess's daughters gone, Antonia ended up on my couch that night in 
spite of Gwennie's
62                                C. Dale Brittain
concerns. I was sound asleep when the clang of sword on sword resounded in the 
courtyard.
Not Paul again! I thought, swinging my feet reluctandy out of bed. But it could 
not be die king returning to the casde late because he had been here for dinner, 
too absorbed in the Lady Justinia even to notice diat die twins were not diere 
until someone else asked about them.
There came now a hoarse shout and the high winding of a hornthe watchman's 
alarm signal, which I had never actually heard used before. The horn's note blew 
a second time, then abrupdy was cut off. This wasn't just someone playing a joke 
on the night watchman. He was in serious trouble.
"Stay here!" I cried to Antonia, who was sitting up, wide-eyed and clutching her 
doll. I slapped a magic lock on the door as I swung it shut behind me.
Justinia's elephant trumpeted in die stables, and shouts and clangs came from 
elsewhere in the casdeI was not the only one to hear the watchman's horn. But I 
was die first to die gate.
And saw row after row of warriors marching in across the drawbridge: shadowy, 
armored shapes, naked swords in their hands, and eyes that I could have sworn 
glowed in the darkness.
This couldn't be real. It had to be a nightmare. But waking or dreaming I had to 
do die same thing: defend the casde of Yurt.
I shouted spells in the heavy syllables of the Hidden Language, and the first 
warriors stopped as though they had run into a wallwhich indeed they had. But 
their feet kept on moving as though trying to push diemselves through. Their 
eyes still glowed and dieir swords were ready if my spells weakened for even an 
instant.
Someone ran into the little room by the gate where the bridge mechanism was 
worked and cranked the
Daughter of Macic
63
wheel to raise the drawbridge. Beyond its end, I could see in the dim light more 
warriors advancing. The ones on the bridge slid off into the moat as it rose, 
but the ones behind diem kept right on marching, straight into the water as 
though not even noticing the bridge's absence.
The portcullis slammed down as I started looping binding spells around the 
warriors trapped between the gate and my magical barrier. One by one they 
stopped moving as my spells caught and held.
I paused to catch my breath. Magic is hard physical as well as mental work. It 
had been very close, I thought, but I had gotten out into the courtyard widi my 
spells in time.
There was a shout from the wall. "They're coming up!"
Swords and glowing eyes loomed against the starlit sky. Knights widi lances 
swarmed to the battlements to thrust back into the moat menor monstersthat 
seemed to have no individuality, no awareness of their surroundings, only a need 
to keep on coming.
They appeared to have marched underwater across the floor of the moat and be 
coming straight up the wall by finding fingerholds among the stones. The 
knights' lamps made crazy patterns of light and shadow among the castle's 
defenders and whatever was clambering up toward them.
I would have to wait to catch my breath. The thought flitted through my mind 
that Hildegarde would be very sorry to have missed all this.
"By the saints!" someone shouted. "It's as though they're directed by the devil 
himself!"
King Paul was in the middle of it all. I threw spell after spell onto the 
advancing warriors, raw terror lurking just beyond my shoulder. "Shall we make a 
sortie, Wizard?" the king asked me quiedy.
64
C. Dale Brittain
"Magics stopping them," I gasped. "Don't try fighting them with steelthey look 
like they'd keep on fighting even with their heads cut off. Where's the 
watchman?"
"That dark shape on the ground just inside the gate," said Paul. "He's not 
moving."
I paused for a second to wipe my forehead and cautiously lowered the magical 
barrier I had thrown up around the first warriors through the gate. They were 
now all secured by binding spells. Several people rushed to examine the 
watchman.
"He's dead!" said a knight in amazement. I was not amazed. If the watchman had 
not blown his horn with his final breath, if I had been only a few seconds 
slower getting to the gate, there would have been a whole lot more people dead 
by now. Yurt had always been a very peaceful kingdom. It looked like it wasn't 
anymore.
IV
It took me half an hour to get all the warriors, both inside and outside the 
walls, immobilized with magic. We lowered the drawbridge again, and knights 
carried the ones who had made it into the courtyard back outside. They used 
grappling hooks to retrieve the rest from the moat; being underwater had not 
taken the light from the creatures' eyes. The swans from the moat had all 
retreated to dry land, hissing and flapping their wings menacingly if anyone 
came near.
Though the knights tried to pry the swords from the warriors' grips, they held 
on far too tightly, even encased in my binding spells. I didn't count, but there 
must have been at least a hundred of them. Whatever they were, I thought, 
studying them by lamplight with fists on my hips, they weren't human. Human in 
shape, holding swords in human hands, they had no minds inside their heads or 
souls behind their eyes. The sweat
Dauchter of Macic                           6!
on me was cold now that I had finished my spells, bu it was more than that that 
made me shiver.
"Demons incarnate!" gasped the chaplain, clutching his crucifix. He took a quick 
look and then retreated The whole castle was roused and milling around the 
courtyardeveryone, that is, except the Lady Justinia whom no one had seen.
"Not demons," I said slowly. Several lay on the grounc by my feet, no longer 
struggling against my spells bu watching me with glowing eyes. "Demons would no! 
have been stopped by my spells. But they're not alive either. They look like 
they're made from hair and bone.'
"Can magic do that?" asked the chaplain, hovering a short distance behind me as 
though not wanting tc approach but not wanting to appear to retreat any furthe] 
either. "Can it make life?"
"Not life. But there are spells in the old magic o\ earth and stone that can 
give the semblance of life They don't teach those spells at the wizards' school 
but back in the old days of apprenticeships wizards usee to learn them, and I 
think they still use them over in the Eastern Kingdoms, beyond the mountains."
"How would you make such creatures?" asked the chaplain, coming one step closer 
and sounding interested in spite of himself.
"The traditional way," I said, then paused for a second to renew a binding spell 
that seemed tattered, "was to use dragons' teeth."
There was a long silence. "You didn't make them, did you?" asked the chaplain as 
though trying to make a joke. When I turned to glare at him, in no mood foi a 
joke, he added hastily, "Well, I trust you did not, my son, but in that case who 
did?"
"I have absolutely no idea." It must be linked with the Lady Justinia's arrival, 
I thought, but I was not about to say so until I had better evidenceno use 
having
66
C. Dale Brittain
everyone in the casde treating with suspicion someone whom die mage had 
entrusted to me.
Then I remembered who else had been entrusted to me. Antonia! Where was she in 
all this? Yelling at one of the knights to call me die second any of diese 
unliving warriors showed signs of breaking out of my spells, I raced back into 
the casde and to my chambers.
She had lit die magic lamp and was sitting in my best chair widi a blanket 
wrapped around her. "What happened?" she asked, round-eyed. "And why," widi a 
wrinkling of her chin as though trying to keep back tears of terror, "did you 
leave me all alone?"
I snatched her up and held her close. "I'm so sorry, Antonia," I murmured, 
stroking her hair. She was shaking and clung to meno cool self-possession now. 
"But right here was the safest place for you. Some warriors tried to invade die 
casde, and I had to stop diem."
Slowly she stopped shaking as I held her. "I could have helped you," she said 
dien, pushing herself back to look me in the face. "I can do all sorts of 
spells. While I was waiting for you I turned Dolly into a frog."
A quick glance at her doll showed it unchanged: a rag doll, embroidered widi a 
smiling face I found almost aggressively adorable, wearing a silk dress 
doubtless made from the scraps of somediing Theodora had sewn for a fine lady of 
Caelrhon. "Soon you'll be a witch like your mother," I said encouragingly.
For some reason I didn't like the way diat sounded, but we were interrupted by a 
shout from the courtyard. "Wizard!"
I bounced Antonia back into bed. "Go to sleep," I said, trying not to sound too 
rough. "I may be busy the rest of the night." And I darted out across the 
drawbridge to find one of the armored warriors pushing itself to a sitting 
position and raising its sword.
A few quick words of the Hidden Language restored
Daughter of Macic                         67
the binding spell, but I thought, looking at the twitching collection of 
creatures before me, diat there was a limit to how long I could keep them 
imprisoned. I had worked my spells fast, using shortcuts wherever I could, and 
the spells diat made unliving hair and bonesand maybe dragons' teediinto 
manlike shapes were a lot stronger than mine. It would only be a matter of time 
until they all broke free again unless I found a way to dismantle diem.
And I couldn't do diat and keep my binding spells going at die same time. I 
needed help.
"Do we have enough chains to chain diem up?" I asked King Paul. Brute force 
might supplement magic in the short term. He took some of the knights to look 
while I hurried up and down die rows between the creatures, renewing spells and 
blinking in the lamplight as exhaustion pricked die backs of my eyes. But I 
could not let up my concentration for even a second. Warriors widi swords in 
tiieir unliving hands could have slashed me in two before I even realized my 
spells were weakening.
The king managed to persuade everyone but die knights to go back inside once 
tiiey realized the immediate excitement was over. The chaplain, showing a calm 
authority I had not expected in him, took away die body of die watchman for last 
rites. By die time we had the warriors all chained togetiierand twice a knight 
of Yurt just missed being badly wounded while he tried to fasten links around a 
creature that had almost managed to wiggle free of my binding spelldawn had 
streaked the eastern sky pink. Not too early, I thought, to make a phone call.
There was only one person worth calling. I gave die glass telephone die magical 
coordinates of Elerius's casde.
It took several minutes before the wizards' school's
68                             C. Dale Brittain
best graduate appeared in the phone's glass base. While I waited for him I tried 
to think how to frame my request for help so it wouldn't sound as desperate as I 
felt. Elerius, though school-trained, had years ago also learned enough of the 
old magic from a renegade magician who had been hiding out high in the eastern 
mountains that he himself could give dead bones the semblance of life. I 
probably could have too, given enough time, but Elerius's skills were so unusual 
that he had even been invited to give a series of lectures on the topic at the 
school.
He came to the phone at last and looked at me quizzically, his eyebrows making 
triangular peaks over tawny hazel eyes. His look always made me feel 
disconcerted but his tone was friendly. "What is it, Daimbert? It is good to 
hear from you after, what has it been, several years at least, but I assume you 
must have a serious problem to call me at such a time!"
"Well," I said with assumed joviality, "sorry to awaken you at this hour and 
all, but we do have a little problem" I gave it up; after all, I was desperate. 
"Please, Elerius," I said, not caring how pathetically I begged. "You've got to 
come to Yurt. We've been invaded by scores of warriors who move without life. 
I've got them in binding spells for the moment, but I can't dismantle them by 
myself. Please!"
He did not hesitate. "Of course," he said soberly, with an expression that was 
probably supposed to convey reassurance. It was going to take more than an 
expression to reassure me. "I shall leave within minutes and be there in two 
hoursmaybe less."
"Wizard!" I heard a shout from outside. I slammed down the receiver and darted 
back out, nerving myself to face the entire horde come back to life and motion.
But none of the creatures were moving. Instead, as the dawn light touched them . 
. .
Daughter of Magic                         69
At first I did not dare believe it, but it was real. For a few seconds the 
sunlight showed them clearly, human in no more than shape, faces unfeatured 
except for then-eyes, and then they began to disintegrate. As though melting in 
die sun, dieir hands shriveled away from dieir hilts, their eyes lost their glow 
and fell back into dieir sockets, and dieir struggles against my spells ceased 
abrupdy. Their armor and swords rusted away as I watched until they were no more 
dian fragments, like something dug up from an ancient burial mound. Their limbs 
collapsed, widi a ratde of chain, into piles of scrap.
I closed and opened my eyes, saying a prayer of manks to whatever saint might 
listen to wizards. Where a few minutes ago die grass had been spread with 
warriors who had very nearly killed us all in our sleep, it was now scattered 
widi acrid heaps of bone and hair.
The knights of Yurt sent up a triumphant whoop. King and knights were haggard 
with exhaustion, and I was trembling all over, hardly able to stand in the 
weakness of relief. I still wore what had once been my best yellow pajamas, now 
ripped and filthy rags. High up in the courtyard wall I could see a light 
burning in die window of the chapel where diey had laid out the body of die 
watchman. "That," I said to myself, "was too easy."
Elerius had already left for Yurt by the time I telephoned his casde again. 
Well, maybe he could help me determine where diese warriors had come from, I 
diought, putting one set of bones aside for later magical analysis. The knights 
threw die rest onto a bonfire diey built in front of the casde. The smoke rolled 
into die dawn sky, dense and black.
I went back across the bridge and into the casde. The people King Paul had sent 
to bed a few hours earlier had all reappeared, complaining about die horrible
70                             C. Dale Brittain
stench of the smoke. They should be glad, I thought, they had nothing worse to 
complain about, and decided to talk to the Lady Justinia before Elerius arrived.
No time yet for exhaustion. First I stopped by my chambers to wash, change 
clothes, and check on Antonia. She was sound asleep, lying on her back with her 
mouth slighdy open and her doll held tight to her chest. I touched her cheek 
lighdy with a finger on my way back ' out the door. This was the reason I would 
have died quite cheerfully if my death had kept die warriors out of die casde.
Justinia's shiny automaton stood guard before her chambers, a sword at the end 
of each of its six arms. It stared at me from flat eyes, expressionless but 
implacable. I was not going to get by unless she wanted me to.
I called, "You can open the door, my lady! The warriors are gone!" There was a 
long pause, during which I tried magically probing the spells that gave die 
automaton the semblance of life. It whirled its swords menacingly but did not 
move away from the door. As I expected, the spells were intensely strange and 
intensely complicated; it would have taken me weeks to duplicate them, even with 
a passive automaton before me. At least it did not dissolve in the sun's rays. 
But then I would not have expected anything made by Kaz-alrhun to have that land 
of flaw.
The door swung open at last, and dark eyes glinted at me. I must have looked 
unthreatening, for Justinia said a quick word to her "servant" and motioned me 
inside.
Her chambers had been transformed since the day before. She must be planning to 
stay a while, I diought, for she had unpacked, spreading me flagstone floor with 
mats and pillows and hanging the walls widi silk curtains. The flying carpet lay 
placidly in front of the hearth. Oil lamps burned in the room's corners.
Daughter of Magic                         71
Justinia pushed die door quickly shut behind me. "Was it as I feared?" she 
asked, not succeeding at all diis morning in sounding nonchalant about mortal 
danger. "Have my grandfather's enemies found me already?"
"I'm afraid so." I told her about the undead warriors out of nightmare, shaped 
to advance and to kill but without enough knowledge or will to stop at the edge 
of a moat or to try to run from a wizards binding spells.
But partway through the telling, I noticed she began to look first surprised, 
then disturbed. "But this cannot be!" she broke in. "There is no one in Xantium 
who would make such soldiers! These magical arts are forbidden!"
I was sure there was a distinction to be drawn somewhere between making warriors 
of hair and bone and making metallic automatons, but I did not want to get into 
arcane comparative legal systems. "Are you saying, my lady," I said in 
astonishment, "that these warriors, such as have never been seen in Yurt before, 
invaded die casde as soon as you arrived but have nothing to do widi you?"
"Most certainly," she said, tossing her head imperiously. "Perhaps my uncle the 
mage chose poorly when he sent me to such a perilous kingdom."
Either she was lying to me, I thought, about the likelihood diat her enemies had 
sent them, perhaps because she was so terrified diat she did not dare admit die 
true extent of the danger even to herself, or else she, with her own unaided 
magic, had caused diis attack.
But there was nothing of magic about her, other than the automaton and its 
spells, and it seemed unusually counterproductive for someone to use mindless 
warriors to attack a casde where one was staying oneself.
"I shall try to see that you are not bothered further
72                                C. Dale Brittain
by such disturbances during your visit, my lady," I said stiffly and rose to go. 
The automaton watched me all the way out.
The courtyard was packed. I turned, highly surprised, to see expressions of 
delight on every side. Smiling at me were all the knights and ladies, the castle 
staff led by Gwennie and her mother, and Antonia, still in her nightgown and 
trailing her doll.
"Here he is!" cried King Paul. 'The hero of Yurt!"
A shout rose from everyone there. But I saw now the forced edge to the smiles, 
the grim realization behind whatever triumph this was supposed to be, that the 
watchman's death was the first time since long before anyone could remember that 
someone-in the royal castle had been violendy killed.
Paul, still streaked with black from the bonfire and leaning on his sword, had 
put on die heavy gold crown of Yurt. "He destroyed the invading demons! The 
wizard has saved us all!" There was another great shout, then an expectant pause 
as though I was supposed to make a speech.
I didn't have die slightest idea what to say. Paul had something large and shiny 
in one handsome sort of medal or award, I thought wildly, which I most 
certainly did not deserve. "Well, diank you, thank you all," I managed to say, 
which produced anodier shout. "But they weren't demons. And I didn't really 
destroy diem. That is"
Whatever I might have added next was drowned out in more hurrahs. "Step forward, 
Wizard," said Paul in die formal tone diat explained why he was wearing his 
crown, "and receive the accolades of a kingdom." I could see now diat he held a 
golden medal at the end of a loop of blue ribbon.
It was at this point diat Elerius arrived. &#9830;        &#9830;        ^
Daughter of Magic                           73
"It's all right!" I cried as die knights reached for dieir swords. A casde diat 
has just been invaded by creatures considered demonic does not react calmly to 
someone shooting down from the sky and landing in die courtyard. "This wizard 
has come to help me!"
"Came a little late, didn't he?" shouted one knight widi a relieved laugh, and, 
"Didn't notice you needing much help, Wizard!" shouted another.
"He's just in time," said Paul witii a determined grin, "to see his fellow 
wizard honored." He wiped soot from his forehead with an arm and became formal 
again. "The Golden Yurt award is given but rarely, at most once a generation. 
Aldiough I have been your king only six years, I need not hesitate or wonder if 
someone more deserving may aid the kingdom in years to come. Our Royal Wizard 
has protected Yurt since before I was born, and now that he has destroyed a host 
of demons it is clear that this award is long overdue. Step forward, Wizard, and 
receive die praise of a grateful kingdom!"
It was much too late to explain diat I had had nodiing to do widi die warriors' 
dissolution in sunlight, or that if anyone was honored it ought to be die dead 
watchman. To his credit, Elerius restricted himself to only die faintest ironic 
smile as I stepped resignedly before Paul and let him slide the ribbon around my 
neck.
The medal itself was engraved widi an image of the royal casde and had die heavy 
feel of solid gold. I turned it over and saw die names of all diose to whom it 
had been awarded in die past. My name was at die bottom; die goldsmith must have 
worked fast. The last name before mine was the king's cousin Dominic, with a 
small cross to indicate die Golden Yurt had been awarded to him posdiumously.
To the repeated hurrahs of everyone, knights, ladies, and staff, I scooped up 
Antonia, nodded to Elerius to
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follow me, and retreated rapidly to my chambers, just escaping having to give a 
speech.
V
Antonia, telling me loftily that she could dress herself, retreated into my 
bedroom. Elerius asked me nothing about her; he might guess she was my daughter 
but I did not intend to confirm his guess.
He and I sat in the outer room while I told him about the warriors. He listened 
in silence, stroking his black beard and following me with intent eyes. At 
least, I thought, with my white beard and the Golden Yurt award now hanging by 
an attachment spell on the wall next to my diploma from the school, I looked 
more wise and venerable than he did.
"When I called you I needed to know how to dismantle them," I finished, "but now 
that they've dissolved in sunlight all by themselves I've realized they probably 
aren't the worst threat to Yurt: that will be whatever comes next."
'Tour success against them," said Elerius, nodding slowly, "was supposed to give 
you a false sense of security, so you would be unprepared for whatever does 
come." He smiled then. "And of course whoever sent these warriors must have 
hoped he might win with a single unexpected attack. I am glad you called me, 
Daimbert. This looks like the exact sort of case for which institutionalized 
magic was designed: renegade spells which must be opposed by wizards acting 
together."
Elerius and I had disagreed strongly in the past on the purposes and goals of 
organized wizardry, but I certainly agreed with him here. It struck me that he 
might be acting so helpful in part to put me into his debt. But the difficulty 
with mistrusting Elerius's motives was that he really did believe he always 
acted for the
Dauchter of Macic                         75
besteven if I often thought he didn't. Besides, I needed him.
"Our best approach," he said, "is to find out who wants to harm Yurt and why. 
Otherwise we could end up dealing with a long stream of different magical 
onslaughts."
I hadn't needed Elerius to tell me that. And it crossed my mind that, even 
assuming he himself had had nothing to do with the warriors, he was certainly 
acting quickly to position himself to take advantage of their attack. But it was 
hard to resent a faint patronizing tone from someone whom I had begged so 
desperately for help. "Let's start with these bones," I said and lifted them 
onto the table with magic, not caring to handle them again.
Outside in the courtyard were the sounds of a casde resuming its daily routine, 
when everyone believes disaster has just been averted and is wondering whether 
to be worried or grimly glad. I swung my casement windows shut.
Most of the spells that had held the warriors together had disappeared, along 
with their human shape, in the morning light. But enough of a hint remained that 
Elerius and I could probe magically, stepping into magic's four dimensions 
together and communicating mind to mind. Here was a fragment of a spell I 
thought I recognized from years ago, here a familiar spell given a very unusual 
twist
Elerius broke contact and raised peaked eyebrows. "It's not school magic. It 
does not even seem like the magic previous generations of wizards used to teach 
their apprentices, although at first I thought it must be."
"I think," I said slowly, with an irrational but deadly cold conviction that I 
knew exacdy what it was, "it's what they call the magic of blood and bone over 
in the Eastern Kingdoms."
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C. Dale Brittain
The kingdoms east of the mountains had never had a wizards' school, had never 
even had the peace that the western wizards had established in their kingdoms 
after the Black Wars. There the conflicts among wizards which still persisted 
even here, even between wizards who had gone to school together, had become part 
of the constant ongoing wars of the region.
'This will be an important project for the wizards' school in years to come, 
Daimbert," said Elerius. "The school has functioned very well in the past to 
coordinate magic in the Western Kingdoms, but we will need next to turn our 
attention to the wizards east of the mountains."
But I was not interested in Elerius s plans for when he eventually became Master 
of the school. "What this attack must mean," I said, "is that the Thieves' Guild 
of Xantium has overcome their aversion to the forbidden arts enough to hire a 
very powerful eastern wizard to pursue a princess." I told Elerius briefly about 
Justinia's arrival. "If these warriors were made by her enemies," I added, "they 
must be very good and very fast to have found her within twenty-four hours of 
her arrival in Yurt. I'll have to get her out of here before die next attack."
But Elerius was shaking his head. "I cannot believe that Xantium's greatest mage 
would have been so sloppy as to let the princess's enemies know where she was 
going even before she left. For they would have had to know she was heading for 
Yurt to be able to start making unliving warriors even before she arrived."
I nodded without speaking, wanting desperately to persuade myself that this had 
nothing to do with the East. From years of experience I knew that I often leaped 
to unwarranted conclusions, but I also knew that I had a tendency to try to 
disbelieve things I did not dare face.
Dauchter of Magic                       77
"If the Lady Justinia is not the target here," Elerius continued, "then her best 
safety will lie in staying quietly where she is. And if the warriors were indeed 
made by the magic of blood and bone, I would not be so quick to assume any mage 
in Xantium would embrace it."
"I was in Xantium once," I said in exasperation, "but I don't understand their 
morality and laws at all. I would have considered thieves outlaws myself, but 
there they are an organized guild, with whom the governor negotiates. Who knows? 
Maybe they really would be fastidious about any magic different from their 
native magery. But if those warriors had nothing to do with Justinia, where can 
they have come from?"
Antonia came out of the bedroom at this point, wearing her blue dress, her shoes 
neady laced and tied but her hair thoroughly tangled. "Who's going to braid my 
hair, Wizard?" she asked me accusingly.
Elerius smiled and held out a hand. "I'll do it There's a little princess in my 
kingdom who's about your age. Would you like your hair styled like a 
princess's?"
Antonia stayed put, looking at him in silent suspicion. Undaunted, Elerius said 
a few quick words in the Hidden Language. "Here, catch."
An illusory golden ball arched through the air. Startled, Antonia reached up to 
catch it. But just before reaching her, the ball changed into a golden bird and 
flew, flapping wildly, up toward the ceiling where it disappeared with a pop. A 
single golden feather drifted down and dissolved back into air.
Antonia laughed and trotted over to climb on Elerius's knee. "My wizard does 
illusions too," she said. I thought it nice of her not to mention that I, the 
winner of an undeserved award, couldn't do anything that complicated anywhere 
near as easily. "His name is Daimbert," she added in explanation, as though 
Elerius might be unsure who I was. "I'm Antonia."
78                             C. Dale Brittain
"My name is Elerius," he said, taking her brush. He was good at everything else; 
why should I be surprised that Elerius was also good with children? "Hmm, it 
looks like you've been trying to do some braiding yourself, Antonia, without 
being able to see what you were doing."
'That's because my friend Celia left yesterday," said Antonia.
Celia! With everything else I had forgotten all about sending her to find out 
about the Dog-Man. It was too early to expect a message from her yet, but I 
might soon. And might that man, who performed very strange magic tinged with fhe 
supernatural, who had persuaded the bishop he wanted to be a priest, be behind 
the attack on Yurt?
Elerius finished brushing out the tangles and started braiding Antonia's hair. A 
few magic words helped keep the strands in place until he could work them in. 
While he braided she took hold of a handful of his black beard and, humming, 
started brushing it.
"This may not have anything to do with the Lady Justinia, Daimbert," said 
Elerius casually. Antonia, having exhausted the immediate possibilities of his 
beard, was now braiding her doll's yarn hair. "Consider this: it may rather be 
directed toward you."
"Me?"
"Forget Xantium for die moment," he continued, still speaking in a casual voice 
Antonia happily ignored as she started singing to her doll. "Think about your 
trip years ago through the area where this sort of magic is widespread. I 
believe the others who were with you then are either now dead or at any rate not 
here in Yurt. Did you make any foes among the wizards of the Eastern Kingdoms?"
"I might have," I said reluctandy. But all the hair on my arms and the back of 
my neck stood on end to hear someone else voice my worst suspicions.
Dauchter of Magic                         79
It had been fifteen years ago on our way to the East, when we had met the dark, 
half-living wizard Vlad. Mosdy by luck, I had been able to get us away and out 
of his snares witliout giving him what he wanted. Although I had not actually 
intended to hurt him, when we fled, that eastern wizard's body had been 
partially destroyed, dissolved by sunlight. . . .
So if Vlad, who had screamed curses after me, had found me at last, what would 
he try next, now that I had been able to witfistand his warriors just long 
enough for die dawn to come?
VI
There was no message from Celia all day. In early evening I left die castle 
ostentatiously, standing on tlie drawbridge talking to Paul for several minutes 
before flying away. The story Elerius and I put out in the royal court was tliat 
I was searching by night for whatever practitioner of black magic had 
unsuccessfully attacked us, while he stayed on guard in the castie. We were 
doing more, however: testing to see whedier tie castleincluding Justiniawas 
tlie target, or whether I was.
They raised the drawbridge and lowered the portcullis behind me; a lot more than 
one watchman would be on guard tonight. Elerius also stood ready to put spells, 
far more powerful tiian anytliing I could have managed alone, all around the 
casde, to stop any further magical creatures in tiieir tracks before they 
reached the walls. Antonia, perched on his shoulder, waved as I flew away.
I did not go far, only a few miles, before settling myself with my back against 
a tree. After last night I was exhausted, but there were spells to hold off 
sleep as long as I was willing to put up witii a bad headache. I built a fire 
and began to work illusions: large, brighdy
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80                             C. Dale Brittain
lit illusions, ones designed to proclaim to anyone within miles that there was a 
wizard here.
If Vlador whoever had attacked the castle last nightwas after me, then I might 
not have long to wait. As long as I did not go to sleep, and as long as none of 
my friends or my daughter was in immediate danger, I should be able to fight 
back or escape. I hoped.
Unless Justinia, or perhaps some other member of the royal court for reasons I 
could not even imagine, really was the target. After a few hours in which 
nothing happened except that I perfected a few details of my illusions 
technique, I made a particularly large golden phoenix burning with realistic 
flames, donned a spell of invisibility, and darted through the night toward the
castle.
It was quiet except for the knights in the courtyard, patrolling slowly, 
exchanging comments, lifting their lanterns at the faint thump I made landing on 
the battlements. Justinia's automaton hovered at her door. I flew silently and 
invisibly across the courtyard to my own chamber windows. A magic lamp made a 
point of light within. Elerius sat reading, and beyond him I could just see a 
rounded shape on the couch that must be Antonia, asleep. Elerius lifted his head 
a moment, but I was fairly sure that even he, with all his abilities, could not 
see me. I flew upwards again and back to my slowly disintegrating phoenix.
The hours of the short midsummer night seemed to drag on forever. From being 
keyed up with anticipation of a magical attack, I went to being tired and bored. 
I replaced the phoenix with a pair of dragons who placed their claws on each 
other's shoulders and did a tango, but my heart wasn't in it. As a test, this 
seemed a dismal failure. I stared vacantly and gloomily out into the darkness 
beyond my fire. Whether aimed at the Lady Justinia or aimed at me, it looked 
like the next attack
Dauchter of Macic                           81
would not come for a whilesjust long enough to give us a false sense of 
security.
I had fallen into a doze shortly before dawn when I was abruptly brought back to 
full consciousness by the crack of a broken stick. My fire had burned down to 
cold ashes, and all my illusions were long gone. I spun toward the sound to see 
a huge, dark shape coming over the hill, silhouetted against the eastern sky.
It was in the form of a man, a man who walked heavily and awkwardly with his 
arms straight in front of him, a man ten feet tall.
I shot away, my heart hammering. The creature followed me, with a drag in its 
step like something dead that had forgotten how to walk, watching me with yellow 
eyes the size of saucers. There was an intelligence behind those eyes I did not 
recall seeing in the warriors. The creature's heavy footfalls seemed to shake 
the earth.
All right, I thought. We know then that I'm the target. The test is a success. 
We can stop now!
The creature showed no sign of stopping. I kept ahead of it, but it moved 
surprisingly quickly for something so awkward. Elerius might have been able to 
help me against it, but I didn't dare head back to the castle, trailing a 
creature of nightmare, to get him.
Hovering just ahead of it, I madly tried both binding and dissolution spells, 
but all were ineffective. Years ago I had been pursued by a creature something 
like this and had found a way to improvise; desperately I tried to remember the 
words of the Hidden Language that had worked then. But nothing seemed to work 
now, and it kept on advancing. When I glanced over my shoulder to see that it 
was indeed maneuvering me toward the castie, I darted off in a different 
direction.
"Come on," I muttered toward the dawn. If diis creature was made with the same 
magic of blood and
82                             C. Dale Brittain
bone that had held the warriors together only as long as darkness lasted, I 
should be safe in another few minutes.
The creature, ignoring my change in direction, continued toward the castle. I 
dropped to the ground, yelled to get its attention, and very slowly backed away 
on foot: slowly enough, I hoped, to focus it on me again.
My foot caught on an uneven tussock just as it made a spring at me. I ducked and 
rolled, suppressing a scream of terror, and shot up into the air an inch ahead 
of its grabbing hands. The yellow eyes seemed to be considering me in thoughtful 
assessment.
Twenty feet above it, I tried taking deep breaths. Showing no more signs of 
starting toward the castle, the creature watched me patiendy. The mouth, a slit 
in the face, opened in what might have been a smile. Inside were quite real 
teeth.
I tried probing die spells that propelled it, hoping fhat if I could discover 
their structure I might find some way to reverse them. Slipping into the stream 
of magic, I probed there, and thereand came back to myself to find that my 
flying spell was disintegrating, and that I had descended almost within reach of 
the creature's outstretched hands.
Again I dodged away just in time. Sweat poured down my face, both at the 
closeness of my escape and at what I had found. My quick magical probe had shown 
me no way that this creature could be dissolved, but it had revealed the sorts 
of spells tliat held it together, a mix of spells I had never seen together 
before: die old western magic of earth and herbs tliat long predated the school; 
the eastern magic of blood and bone; and, quite unmistakeable, a twist of school 
magic.
The rising sun lifted itself over the horizon at last, flooding the creature 
with pale light. It showed no sign whatsoever of dissolving.
Daughter of Macic                         83
"So some school-trained wizard has gone renegade," I said to myself, "and has 
trained widi Vladand may be here as his agent." I would have to telephone the 
school at onceif I could only stop tins creature first.
It had been reaching for me, but now it lowered its arms. Keeping its round 
yellow eyes on me, it opened its moudi and spoke. "This is a hard spell to keep 
going from a distance, Daimbert," it said conversationally. "But I am very 
pleased to see it works."
And with diat die creature collapsed. limbs fell off, die head tipped over, lost 
all the intelligence in die eyes, dien dropped and rolled away, and last of all 
die torso subsided to die earth.
My heart pounding harder dian ever, I cautiously approached. The body parts were 
no longer tiiose of a ten-foot creature. Most were bits of wood and leaf, but 
lying among them, inanimate and clearly recognizable, was the dead body of die 
night watchman.
And I had recognized the creatures voice. It was the voice of Elerius.
Back at the castie half an hour later, I dragged him out of my chambers and up 
on top of die tall northern tower, where I could curse him in privacy.
"Damnation, Elerius," I said, low and furious, "what could you have been 
thinking in digging up the watchman's body?! I've just had to rebury him, fast 
before anyone noticed."
"I needed a body for my experiment," he said mildly. "Your predecessor used old 
bones back when he made an unliving creature, as I recall, but it didn't work as 
well as it should have. I found his ledgers at the back of your shelves last 
night, and in reading over his notes, and putting together what I found with 
what we discovered yesterday from the remains of die warriors, and what I once 
learned myself from an old renegade
84                             C. Dale Brittain
magician up in the mountains, I decided that the fresher the body, the better. 
It isn't as though I was hurting the watchman in any way; after all, he was 
already dead."
I fumed in silence until he paused, apparently feeling he had answered my 
objections. "I hope you're pleased that you terrified me with your creature as 
well as disgusted me with your methods," I said angrily. "This does not seem 
like something the school's best graduate should door would want widely known."
He shrugged. "I feel confident you will not tell the school about this. After 
all, if you did I could mention to them the curious fact that a man without 
brothers or sisters has somehow produced a niece. . . . And I see no reason why 
a wizard should let conventional squeamishness influence him. Since it was 
becoming clear last night that we would not get any answers at once as to who 
attacked the castle, I thought I might use the time profitably to see if I could 
make an animate creature and, at least temporarily, put my mind into it. That 
eastern magic has a great deal of potential, but it was a real challenge to find 
a way to overcome its susceptibility to sunlight!"
Still furious but without any good answers to what he clearly thought were 
convincing arguments, I said, "You always have felt the ends justify the means, 
haven't you. I don't want a grave-robber in my kingdom. Get out."
He smiled indulgendy. "I must apologize, Daimbert, for apparently frightening 
you even more than I intended! I couldn't tell you what I was doing, of course, 
because I wanted to observe what my creature's effect would be on the 
unsuspecting, but I counted on a wizard being hard to frighten. And of course I 
was interested to see what sort of response you might improvise. You know you 
can't be serious in wanting to send me away, not before we finish finding out 
all we can about those
Daughter of Macic                         85
undead warriors, not while your kingdom may still be in danger. By the way, 
while I was probing again those warriors' bones you saved from the bonfire, I 
thought I sensed some kind of latent spell in them, something we hadn't picked 
up before, so we should try to discover that as well. Since it bothers you, I'll 
promise not to disturb any more graves while I'm here."
"And stay away from Antonia," I growled, no longer ordering him out of Yurt, not 
sure how I had lost the initiative but quite surely having lost it. He was 
right: I did need his help.
He smiled again. "Do not be concerned, Daimbert. I would never take a delightful 
little girl apart for an experiment, or whatever you're imagining. My goal, like 
that of organized wizardry, is always the good of mankind. And knowledge of 
magic in all its forms is one of the principal foundations of wizardry."
He turned without waiting for a reply and stepped off the parapet, floating 
majestically back down to the courtyard. I followed slowly, not sure how to 
enunciate what was wrong with his approach to magic, yet feeling that, at least 
for now, I would have to continue to work with him. But I also felt an 
implacable conviction that his ways were not mine.
PART THREE
The Bishop I
That morning Justinia announced she intended to take her elephant for a ride. 
"She's ordered me to accompany her," Gwennie told me, standing in the doorway of 
my chambers and trying to decide whether to laugh or be irritated. "And you too, 
Wizard."
Back in my chambers, I had been drinking tea and eating cinnamon crullers. As I 
ate I picked up one of the warrior's bones I had saved and fingered it, 
wondering absently what spell Elerius might have spotted in it and whether he 
might already have a very good idea and be using this as a test for me. But I 
had no time to worry about him. Resignedly I pushed myself to my feet. Gwennie 
and an elephant would not be much protection for Justinia if whoever had sent 
the unliving warriors returned.
"Do I have to go ride on the elephant too?" Antonia asked dubiously.
"Not if you don't want to," I said, relieved that she didn't. An elephant's back 
struck me as a treacherous place. But if she was not with me, who would look 
after her? When I had first talked to Theodora about having
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our daughter visit Yurt, I had not imagined how much attention would go simply 
into taking care of one energetic five-year-old.
Elerius looked up from his reading. From his manner our quarrel this morning 
might not have even taken place. He seemed to be planning an extended stay in 
Yurt, during which he would read through, all of the big, handwritten volumes in 
which my predecessor as Royal Wizard had kept his notes. "I'll watch her for 
you, Daimbert," he said with a slight lift to his brows, as though understanding 
and amused by my predicament.
Although I didn't trust him, at the moment he appeared to be interested in my 
friendship, and it really did seem unlikely that he would harm Antonia while I 
was gone. When I went out a few minutes later, he was again absorbed in my 
predecessor's spidery hand, and Antonia, with a quick glance at me and a 
self-righteous lift of her chin, had pulled down Elements of Transmogrification.
The Lady Justinia's luggage had included a sort of double saddle with a roof, 
almost a little house, that could be strapped onto her elephant's shoulders. The 
stable boys, grim and determined, managed to get it on, shaking their heads 
behind Justinia's back. The elephant appeared almost as nervous as they were.
The automaton watched without moving, then sprang up onto the elephant's neck 
when it was ready at last to go. I lifted the lady and Gwennie with magic into 
the little house and perched myself behind theni on the elephant's back. The 
leathery skin was scattered with long, coarse hairs that pricked through my 
trousers. I gave the stable boys a companionable shake of my head. This was 
supposed to be a small elephant, but I felt disturbingly high above the ground.
It reached its trunk, as supple as a snake, up to Justinia,
Dauchter of Magic                           89
and she handed it an apple. The trunk's end, I saw with fascination, was 
provided almost with fingers, or at least flexible protuberances. It thrust the 
apple in its mouth and ate it with evident enjoyment, made several rumbling 
noises that I hoped indicated a happy elephant, and then, at the light touch of 
a goad on its neck from the automaton, trotted briskly across the drawbridge and 
out into a lovely June day.
"The sun here is very faint and low in the sky," commented the Lady Justinia.
Staying on an elephant's back was even harder than I had expected. Remaining 
fairly stable and probing magically for potential enemies kept me fully occupied 
while the beast's rolling gait took us down the hill and along the brick road 
that led eventually to Caelrhon. I left it to Gwennie to try to explain that 
this was a warm day of midsummer and that the sun here was never as high or as 
hot as the lady was accustomed to.
We entered the forest, and dappled shadows flitted across us. After a few 
minutes, I was able to work out a spell to keep myself more or less balanced on 
the elephant's back, while allowing me the attention to keep a watch for bandits 
or anyone else who might try to attack. When the Lady Justinia, who had fallen 
silent after exhausting the possibilities of solar intensity, suddenly spoke 
again, I was so startled I almost fell off.
"Art thou," she asked Gwennie, "the king's concubine?"
Gwennie blushed a dark red from her hairline to the neck of her dress. "Excuse 
me, my lady," she said faintly, "but I do not find that an appropriate 
question."
Now she had me curious.
"Come," said Justinia breezily, "a vizier may oft keep secrets, but not from a 
governor's granddaughter-especially not one who wishes to aid her."
Gwennie kept her eyes down. "No, my lady," she said
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as though the words were dragged from her, "we are not lovers. And" She took a 
deep breath. "and I think it shows how immoral the East must be for you even to 
think so."
"Nay, O Vizier," said Justinia. It was hard for me simultaneously to stay on the 
elephant, to pretend to be looking around as though not hearing their 
conversation, and to follow it avidly. "Does not passion for him burn great 
within you?"
Gwennie's mouth shaped the word No, but for a moment no sound came out. Then she 
took another breath and answered fairly firmly, "Such a feeling would not be 
appropriate. A king can love only a princess or highborn lady, his social equal, 
someone fit to become his queen."
There was not even a hint in her voice that she thought Justinia would make a 
terrible queen of Yurt. It occurred to me that Gwennie, not in any position of 
real power, was much more concerned with maintaining social conventions than was 
someone like Paul whom those conventions were supposed to support.
"This attitude speaks well for thy training and awareness of thy position," said 
Justinia thoughtfully. "But I have observed how thou watchest the king, how 
aware thou constandy art of his presence. I speak now as a woman, not a highborn 
lady. Many a king has found more solace with a slave girl than his own wife. 
Would not thy heart's sorrow be eased by entering his bed?"
"I don't have to listen to this," Gwennie replied, in what was doubtless 
supposed to be a hot defense of morality but came out half-choked. "Turn the 
elephant back to the castle."
"That may indeed be a difficulty," said Justinia, as though Gwennie had said 
something quite different. 'Thou hast always lived, I ween, here in the royal 
court wert thou perhaps even once his playmate? But I have
Daughter of Magic                           91
also verily observed him, how eager his youthful strength and restlessness is to 
turn to something deeper and stronger. If he awoke in the night to find thee 
beside him, it would be but a moment ere his friendship for thee turned to 
passionespecially when he realized how much thy love could guide him to find 
what he truly wishes to find."
I wondered myself what she thought Paul was seeking.
"Thou earnest the castle's keys at tliy belt, I have noted," Justinia continued. 
"It will be a simple act for thee to slip into his chamber when all are 
sleeping, so that none else need ever know. Thy delicacy and inexperience itself 
should prove an added attraction."
'Turn the elephant back," said Gwennie again, staring straight ahead.
Justinia laughed and said a word to die automaton, which touched the elephant's 
neck with the goad. It turned obediendy, pausing only to strip a trunkful of 
leaves from an overhanging branch before starting homeward. I remembered 
somewhat guiltily to probe for bandits.
And realized there was a group of riders approaching, less dian a quarter mile 
behind us. I stiffened, summoning spells of protection. But there was something 
familiar about tfiem. . . .
"Wait a minute, my lady," I called to Justinia, in a loud voice to indicate 
tliat I could not possibly have overheard a low-pitched conversation. "It's the 
queen mother of Yurt, coming home."
In a moment the riders came out of the trees and pulled up hard: a small group 
of knights with the queen and her ladies in the center. Several of the horses, 
eyes rolling white, reared as the elephant turned to look back at them.
Gwennie worked herself out of the housing on the elephant's neck and would have 
jumped straight to the
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ground if I had not caught her magically to slow her fall. She sketched a 
curtsey, and although her cheeks were still blotched red she addressed the queen 
clearly and calmly. "Welcome home, my lady! This is die princess of which I told 
you."
There were greetings and introductions all around. Gwennie must have telephoned 
the royal court of Caelrhon or sent a pigeon-message as soon as Justinia 
arrived, I realized. The queen and Prince Vincent, her husband, would have left 
for Yurt the very next day, cutting short what had been supposed to be a 
several-weeks visit at his family's court. Although at first I drought that 
Gwennie had told them about the attack on the casde, and the queen had hurried 
home to assess die damage and the danger, no one in die party from Caelrhon 
seemed to have heard about it.
When die queen introduced a wide-eyed and radier gawky girl to Justinia, a girl 
who seemed to have shot up two inches since I saw her last, I understood why 
Gwennie had been so quick to contact die queen. It was not just die acting 
constable telling die queen of Yurt diat her casde had company, aldiough diat 
was how she would have phrased it. Gwennie must have made an allusionthat die 
queen had understood very wellto die beauty and charm of die foreign lady. The 
diirteen-year-old princess of Caelrhon who some, at least, had designated as 
Paul's future bride was being brought in fast before it was too late.
"And wilt thou be a queen someday, Princess Margareta?" Justinia asked die girl 
politely.
Margareta, in awe of die elephant, stared open-moutiied for a moment, dien 
remembered herself and said in a slighdy squeaky voice, "No! That is, my fatiier 
is king of Caelrhon. But, you know, if I marry anodier king, diat is"
The girl stopped in confusion. Justinia, considering
Daughter of Magic                           93
with a twitch at the corner of her crimson lips, seemed to have guessed almost 
as quickly as I had why Margareta was being rushed to die royal court of Yurt. 
"In the meantime," she said with a smile, "would it bring diee delight to ride 
upon an elephant, O Princess?"
"Oh," widi a nervous look toward her Uncle Vincent, the prince consort, and 
toward die queen, "could I?"
Gwennie seemed happy to give up her seat on the elephant's back. In a minute 
Margareta was seated next to die Lady Justinia, gaping anew at die automaton, 
and we all started homeward. I yawned and diought I might finally get some sleep 
once we were back at die casde.
Margareta squealed with real or assumed nervousness when die elephant began 
trotting, until Justinia told her radier sharply to stop scaring it. Gwennie, 
riding on the young princess's horse, gave a calm and professional account of 
die casde's doings in die few days die queen had been goneexcept for die most 
crucial, die attack of die unliving warriors.
"In addition," she finished, "there was one very sad event, and die night 
watchman is dead. Perhaps die king can tell you about it better dian I. No, no, 
my lady, diere is nodiing to concern you now."
Glancing surreptitiously at Gwennie, I wondered what, if any, of die Lady 
Justinia's advice had gone home. That, I knew, would concern die queen if she 
ever learned about it even more dian an attack which was now safely over.
When I awoke, aching and ravenous, in late afternoon, it was to find Antonia and 
her doll curled up beside me. I had been having strange, rather uneasy dreams, 
involving Theodora and some bones, and was glad to wake. I tried to sit up 
widiout disturbing die girl, but she rolled over and looked at me inquiringly 
through
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tousled hair. "I want to ask you something, Wizard," she said. "Are you my 
father?"
I jerked upright, fully awake, and looked around quickly for Elerius. But if he 
was still reading old spells it was in my outer study. "What has your mother 
told you, Antonia?" I asked cautiously.
"She said that my father couldn't live with us," she said slowly, as though 
trying to remember all die details correctly, "but that he loved us very much, 
and that I would understand it all when I grew up. I want," she added, fixing me 
with sapphire eyes, "to understand it allnoiu"
I ran a hand over my face and pushed back my hair. "So why do you flunk I'm your 
father?"
"I know you love me and Mother," she said witb great seriousness, explaining a 
complicated logical exercise, "and you told me you don't love other ladies. And 
Mother seems to love you, and she hardly ever talks about any otiber menexcept 
of course the bishop."
If our daughter thought Theodora loved me, then she indeed must. Most of die 
time I knew this anyway it was just her reserve and self-reliance, I told 
myself, that made me sometimes doubt it. "The bishop loves you, too," I said. 
"He baptized you."
"He's my friend," said Antonia, nodding. "But he just told me to talk to Modier 
when I asked him about you. Some of my odier friends on die street said they all 
knew you were my fadier."
In spite of Theodora's quiet determination to keep her private life private, her 
neighbors must long have speculated about Antonia's parentage, and I visited 
Theodora too often not to have attracted notice. Even die Romneys knew she had a 
wizard friend.
"So are you my fadier?" Antonia asked, looking at me expectandy.
There didn't seem any way to get out of answering.
Dauchter of Magic                           95
Theodora may have preferred not telling our daughter for fear she would tell the 
other children, but it seemed too late to worry about that. "Yes, I am," I said 
gravely, taking her hands in mine. They were bigger than when she had been born 
but still tiny in my grip. "And I am very glad you're my daughter."
She threw herself against my chest, and I gave her a close hug. "I'm glad too," 
she said indistinctly against my shirt.
"Your mother wants this to be a secret," I said after a minute, stroking her 
hair, "so let's not tell anyone here, not even Celia and Hildegarde."
"I guessed die secret all by myself," Antonia said proudly, looking up at me. 
"But my friend Jen said she thought my father was the bishop."
The bishop? I tried to make a sudden jerk seem like squeezing her tighter.
But Antonia observed my surprise. "I think," she said in explanation, "that's 
because he visits us sometimes, and everyone knows that Mother can go visit him 
in his palace whenever she wants."
If such a rumor had started, I had to tell Theodora to be a little less 
secretive about me with her neighbors: far better to have them know for certain 
what most of them had guessed anyway than to have people start believing wild 
diings about her and Joachim.
A sudden rap on the bedchamber door interrupted us, and Elerius put his head in. 
"Good, I see you're awake, Daimbert. Your young woman constable just came by 
with a pigeon-message she said she thought was important."
He handed me a litde cylinder of paper, all die pigeons could carry, and ducked 
back out. "If you're my father," asked Antonia thoughtfully, "does that mean 
you're Dolly's grandfadier?"
I didn't answer. The message was from Celia in die
96                             C. Dale Brittain
cadiedral city. I rubbed grit from the corner of an eye. I had again almost 
forgotten she was there. If people and events would just stay where I put them, 
and new ones would stop showing up in Yurt, and if I ever got enough sleep 
again, I might be able to keep track of what was happening in the twin kingdoms.
The message was, of necessity, brief. "Have met the Dog-Man. Religious vocation 
seems genuine. But strange. This afternoon down by the docks he killed a pigeon 
and brought it back to life."
"But strange" was right. Presumably the pigeon in question was not the same one 
who had brought this message? I stared unseeing at the litde piece of paper 
until I realized Antonia was trying to read it too, then wadded it up in my 
fist.
"We'd better get ready for dinner," I said, but my best effort at cheerfulness 
sounded forced in my own ears. I felt cold from the nape of my neck all the way 
down my back. Somehow this man had persuaded Celia as well as the bishop that he 
genuinely wanted to be a priest. What could they be teaching in seminary these 
days? Even a wizard knew that a humble, holy man would not try to show off his 
miraculous powers. And someone who had already killed a frog and a pigeon, just 
to bring them back to life, might have something much worse in mind.
And someone who revived dead animals, I thought, trying without particular 
success to duplicate what Elerius had done to Antonia's hair yesterday, seemed 
too close for comfort to someone who made warriors out of dead bonessomeone who 
had killed the watchman and not brought him back to life.
Daughter of Macic
97
II
Princess Margareta came down to dinner with her eyelids painted an iridescent 
blue like the Lady Justinia's, which earned her an askance look from the queen, 
and carrying a big porcelain doll. The doll wore a lace and silk dress more 
elaborate than the princess's own and had golden curls arranged around its 
placid face in a style that even Elerius might have had trouble matching.
The king's Great-aunt Maria threw up her hands with delight at the sight of the 
doll, but Antonia frowned. "The wizard told me not to bring Dolly to the table 
with me," she said to the princess in a low voice, as though warning her against 
possible embarrassment.
But Margareta tossed her head imperiously and said in her slighdy squeaky voice, 
"Queen Margarithia always sits wherever I do." She ordered a servant to bring up 
a stool and set the doll in it, next to her own chair. One of the castle hounds, 
who were not supposed to be in die great hall at mealtime, came up and started 
sniffing, but Margareta aimed a kick at it and the servant took the animal 
quickly away.
"Queen Margarithia is a good name for a doll," said Antonia approvingly.
Margareta settled herself with a complacent flounce into the place of honor, at 
die king's right hand. She had first been given that place by the queen two 
visits ago and seemed to feel it was rightfully hers.
As die rest of us seated ourselves and started passing die platters, I noticed 
that the young princess, however, paid less attention to King Paul than to the 
Lady Justinia, sitting direcdy across die table from her in die secondary place 
of honor. When Justinia took a single piece of chicken but several scoops of 
vegetables, Margareta
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pushed the three pieces of chicken she had already taken to the side of the 
plate and tried surreptitiously to fluff up her vegetables with a spoon. When 
Justinia set down her knife and switched her fork from left hand to right to eat 
after cutting each piece, Margareta tried to do the same, although on the second 
effort she dropped her knife on the floor and blushed when a servant slipped 
over from the other table to give her a clean one.
Paul too gave most of his attention to the Lady Justinia. Elerius was 
entertaining the knights and ladies widi tales of his travels, including a trip 
right up into the far northern land of dragons, where I had never gone. He 
seemed so comfortable at an aristocratic table that I wondered vaguely, as I had 
several times before, if the family background he had always kept secret might 
include birth in a noble household, or if he, like me, had learned to imitate 
refined social graces upon taking up a post as a royal wizard. Antonia followed 
his stories with such rapt attention that she almost forgot to eat, but the king 
scarcely appeared to hear him.
When dessert came, Elerius graciously refused requests to entertain the court 
with illusions, referring the company instead to me. My dragons doing the tango 
got a much more appreciative response here than they had received last night 
from the renegade magic-worker who might or might nothave been watching me 
covertly.
As the servants began clearing away the plates and everyone else started back 
toward their chambers or else talked in small groups by the hearth, the Lady 
Justinia put her hand on the king's arm. "I have a question for thee, perhaps 
even a suggestion," she said with a slow smile, under the sounds of general 
conversation.
Princess Margareta, picking up her doll, glanced toward them. Justinia, her back 
toward the table, did not notice either the girl or me. "I have been at thy
Daughter of Magic                       99
court long enough, O King, to learn that thou art truly a man and not a boy," 
Justinia continued quiedy, her lips curved into a half smile and her dark eyes 
holding his. "A man and a king can make his own choices in love: he is not one 
to let the old women decide for him. Thou and I botii know, do we not, that thy 
own choice would never be a little girl, scarce more than a child, who still 
plays with dolls?"
The tips of Paul's ears went pink as he started to smile in response. But the 
effect on Margareta was immediate. She blanched white and stood stark still for 
a moment, clutching her doll to her. Queen Margarithia's wide blue eyes stared 
unseeing at the room, and her painted china lips continued to sketch their 
cupid's-bow smile.
Then Margareta whirled around, the doll swinging from one hand, and stormed from 
the room. Queen Margarithia's porcelain head struck the table leg and shattered 
explosively. A number of people turned at the sound, but Margareta, almost 
running, did not seem to notice.
Neither did Paul, akhough Justinia glanced briefly over her shoulder. "Who do 
you think then my choice should be, my lady?" he asked. My liege lord's 
expression was so intense and so vulnerable that I felt almost ashamed to be 
eavesdropping.
"The choice is thine to make, O King," she said, looking at him from under long 
lashes. "But I believe there is a heart in the castle that loves truly, has 
loved thee a very long time, with a care thou hast ignored for far too long."
I turned away. The queen, frowning, was looking toward Paul and Justinia, but 
this was something the king would have to take care of by himself. The Lady 
Justinia might think she was pleading Gwennie s cause, but to me it looked only 
as though she were advancing her own. ^                           <$&#9658;            
               >
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C. Dale Brittain
Gwennie had reasserted her authority as arranger of accommodations in the casde 
and had told me that a little girl could not possibly stay in my chambers with 
two wizards, and instead would sleep with her in her own room until the twins 
returned. That was fine with meit kept her away from Elerius. Antonia had been 
quite smug earlier about this opportunity to sleep in three different rooms in a 
castle and said she could hardly wait to tell her friend Jen.
This evening, however, she kept referring to the smashing of Queen Margarithia. 
Antonia diought Margareta must be especially upset because she had destroyed her 
beloved doll herself, and when I explained that my magic would not put broken 
porcelain back together, she suggested earnestly that we send at once for the 
Dog-Man. I took her to Gwennie's room and sat holding her hand until she fell 
asleep.
The room was reached from the courtyard by an outside staircase. Gwennie was 
waiting when I came out. "Could I talk to you for a moment, Wizard?"
We sat side by side on the stone steps, still warm from the day's sun although 
it was now twilight. The castle around us was growing quiet, but from the 
stables came faint sounds of restless horses who had yet to reconcile themselves 
to the company of an elephant. The last swallows darted high overhead.
I looked at Gwennie from the corner of my eye while waiting for her to begin. 
She had a finely shaped nose and brow-line, if a rather firm chin marked by a 
slight cleft, and straight dark blond hair that was always escaping its pins. I 
myself thought she was as lovely as the Lady Justinia.
"All the years my father was constable," she said with strained cheer after a 
few minutes, "I never realized how difficult his duties must be! Keeping the 
castle accounts, hiring new servants, assigning them their duties
Daughter of Magic                          101
and ascertaining that they carry them out, making decisions ranging from when to 
whitewash the walls to when to buy new table linens to whether we should plant 
barley or rye diis spring"
"I'm sure everyone appreciates how smoothly the castle runs under your 
direction," I said and waited again, knowing this was not what she wanted to 
talk about. For that matter, I had never really thought myself about the merits 
of barley versus rye. Gwennie was again silent as shadow filled the castle 
courtyard.
"This morning," she said at last in a low voice, not looking at me. "Did you 
hear what that eastern princess tried to tell me?"
It didn't seem worth denying. "I'm afraid I couldn't help overhearing."
"The worst of it is," she said, so quietly I had to strain to follow, "I almost 
found myself agreeing with her."
"Ahh," I said as noncommittedly as possible. This sounded more like something 
for which a castle employed a Royal Chaplain than an issue for the Royal Wizard. 
But then I wouldn't have taken a moral dilemma to our chaplain either.
"I know him so well," Gwennie said bitterly. "He likes me, he trusts my work as 
his constable, he remembers fondly the times we used to play together as 
children. If he found me in his bed in die middle.of the night, he would be a 
little surprised, but I know I would quickly be able to find ways to arouse his 
interesteven having no experience of my own with men. I could even make him 
believe he was in love widi me."
Although I was quite sure this was not the sort of topic on which royal wizards 
were supposed to give advice, and although I didn't like to think that my king 
could be so easily manipulated by a woman, I said nothing. At the moment Paul 
seemed ready to leap to do whatever Justinia might suggest to him, and my own 
situation was
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hardly an example of male independence and mastery.
"But what good would that do?" Gwennie continued. "If he did not come to love me 
by himself, with no help from me, it would not be real love. And," she paused, 
gulped once, and continued, "and that he could never do, and I as constable of 
this castie would never allow. He would be the laughingstock of all the 
neighboring kingdoms if he took a cook's daughter as his wife, and what purpose 
would there be in becoming his concubine?"
It might temporarily take her misery away, I thought to myself, but even I 
recognized diat would only be temporary.
"If he got me with child," she continued, speaking fast now, her voice trembling 
on the edge of tears, "I know him well enough to be certain that he would not 
cast me out."
She seemed to have thought it all through remarkably well for someone who had 
summarily rejected this option.
"He would find a place for me to continue to live in Yurt, and our son, if we 
had a son, would be brought up as a pet of the castle, well trained and well 
educated to serve as a constable or even a knight in some other kingdom, but he 
could never inherit the throne."
Like Elerius? I wondered.
"Our daughter, if we had a daughter, would be well provided with a dowry to 
marry some wealthy merchanteven a petty castellan. But any children would be 
marked all their lives with die stigma of illegitimacy, and he would never truly 
consider them his."
I was glad it was growing too dark for her to see my face. I thought of my 
"niece" asleep in Gwennie's room. As she grew up, what stigma would she feel 
marked her, and would she come to believe I did not think of her as truly mine?
Dauchter of Magic                          103
Gwennie had stopped speaking and seemed to be waiting for me to say somediing. 
"At least the Lady Justinia seems to have no plans to become queen of Yurt," I 
suggested tentatively.
"And why not?" Gwennie burst out. "Does she think an eastern governors 
granddaughter too fine for the king of a small western kingdom? Where does she 
think she will find a better man, one braver or more true, more open and 
generous, or capable of greater love? If she's as shallow as she seems, doesn't 
she even realize she won't find a man more handsome?"
Since this so completely contradicted everything she had said before, I decided 
to remain silent.
In a moment I heard the faint sound of a suppressed sob next to me. Gwennie rose 
abrupdy. "Good-night, Wizard," she said unsteadily. "Thank you for listening."
"Good-night, Gwendolyn," I said as her room door shut. I had always liked to 
think that as a wizard I was enough at tlie fringes of society's strictures that 
diey did not affect me. But I was affected if the young people I loved and 
served, whether children of king, duchess, or casde constable, could not become 
the individuals they wanted to be because of die expectations and silent rules 
tliat hedged diem in. And in Antonia it touched me even more deeply and 
personally.
Ill
I woke up all at once, staring around in the dark. It was only a dream, I tried 
to reassure myself, notliing but a dream, but die scene was still more vivid 
tlian my own moonlit chambers. I had been in die bishop's bedchamber only once, 
years before, back when the former bishop was still alive tliough very ill. But 
as I forced myself to setde back down and close my eyes again I could see tJiat 
room clearly, the candles shining
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on the wood-paneled walls and on the brilliant red coverlets on the bed.
Emerging from the coverlets in the image before me were two heads above two sets 
of naked shoulders. Then-faces were hidden, their mouths and chests pressed 
close together. One head had black hair streaked with gray, the other tumbled 
nut-brown curls. I didn't need to see their faces.
A dream meant nothing, I tried to reassure myself, but found myself unwilling to 
be reassured. Absolute conviction did not respond well to reason. Suppose the 
dream did have meaning? Suppose my sleeping mind had provided me with an 
explanation my conscious mind rejected?
I kicked back the blankets, groped for some clothes, and banged the door shut on 
Elerius's sleepy questions as I went out to fly furiously through the night 
toward the cathedral city.
I pushed past the bishop's startled servants into his study and slammed the door 
behind me. He had been reading at his desk after breakfast, but he put his book 
down at once and looked up.
He's pretending he doesn't even realize there's something wrong, I thought with 
the fury that had been building all during die long flight from Yurt. I 
supported myself with a hand against the wall and glared at him. He would learn 
now diat even a bishop cannot trifle with a wizard.
"Joachim, you have been my friend for twenty-five years. We've both saved each 
other's lives. I love you as the brother I never had. But now I must kill you."
It sounded ridiculous as soon as I said it, but to his eternal credit he did not 
laugh, which would have been my own reaction. Nor did he do any of the other 
things I had expected. He did not shout for help, or leap for
Daughter of Magic                     105
the door or the window, or drop to his knees to beg for his life.
Instead he turned his enormous dark eyes toward me, but disconcertingly not 
quite toward me. In a second I realized he was looking at die crucifix on die 
wall past my shoulder.
Murderous jealousy, I diought with a belated return of die good sense diat had 
eluded me for hours, would have been more appropriate in a boy diirty years 
younger. Wizards are bound by iron oadis to help mankind, not to kill diem, not 
even false friends who hide their philandering under a cloak of religion. But I 
had gone too far to back down now, I diought, clenching my jaw. Nothing die 
bishop could say or do would stop me now.
But tben his eyes calmly met mine. He took a deep breath and turned empty hands 
palms up. "If you must, then you must. I forgive you and shall bless you as I 
die."
Dear God. My knees were suddenly so weak I could scarcely stand. I leaned back 
against the wall and put a hand over my eyes. If he had tried to run, I would 
have paralyzed him widi a quick spell. If he had tried desperately to plead for 
mercy, I would have mocked him to his face. If he had screamed for his 
attendants, I would have blasted diem widi magic fire. But by doing none of 
these dungs, by surrendering at once, he had unmanned me completely.
He reached past me to turn die key in the door, locking us in togedier. "Before 
you kill me," he asked mildly, "could you tell me why?"
Even die wall would no longer support me. Exhaustion and failure hit me 
togedier. I found myself on my knees, my face resting on the polished wood of 
the bishop's desk, unable to speak and scarcely to breathe for fear I would 
start sobbing. I couldn't do it. I couldn't do
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anythingnot because I had finally remembered the responsibilities that come 
with wizardry's power, but because my will to act was gone. He had taken 
Theodora from me and I could not get revenge, could not demand her return, could 
not even threaten him. In a minute I felt a hand stroking my hair.
Murder victims are not supposed to reassure their murderers. I took a deep, 
shuddering breath, wiped my eyes with a sleeve, and sat back on my heels to look 
at him.
"Why do you need to kill me, Daimbert?" he asked again.
Any other man in the twin kingdoms he would have called, "My son." If he had, I 
might have worked up enough indignation to try again. But it was now too late.
"Don't worry," I said wearily, although he did not look worried. "I'm not going 
to kill you after all." We looked at each other in silence for a minute. "I 
would have thought you'd be terrified," I said then. "Did you think I was 
joking?"
He shook his head, continuing to hold my eyes. "I've known you too long. I still 
do not always understand your sense of humor, but at least I think I know when 
you're not joking." He paused, then continued thoughtfully, "Maybe I should have 
been terrified. But as bishop, I need to keep life and death constandy in my 
thoughts."
I wondered briefly and irrelevantly how terrified another bishop would have 
been.
"I know my sins," he continued, "and am filled widi remorse and the knowledge 
that I do not deserve salvation. But I also know the mercy and loving kindness 
of God, Who may save even a sinner like me."
Fury slowly built in me again, but I was too weak to do anything about it, and, 
besides, I had already said I
Daughter of Magic                     107
would not kill him. "Don't be complacent," I said in a low voice. "God may not 
forgive you quite as readily as you like to think. I should have realized how 
deeply you were sunk in sin when I heard a demon had boldly entered your 
cathedral. And this time you haven't merely sinned against God. You've sinned 
against me."
His dark eyes were genuinely puzzled. "Then I must beg your forgiveness, 
Daimbert. But you still haven't said why you have to kill me."
I started to speak and changed my mind. How could I have been so wrong?
A short time ago I had been absolutely certain. I had not just thought, not just 
decided, but knoivn. Now that knowledge was gone so thoroughly it was hard to 
believe it had ever existed. And the bishop was still waiting for me to say 
something.
I've noticed tins before. The earth never opens and swallows you up when you 
need it. But someone who had just been threatened with murder deserved an 
answer, especially someone who had been my best friend for twenty-five years.
I tried to say it and couldn't. The silence became long and uncomfortable. At 
last I was able to force it out euphemistically: "You've made Theodora stop 
loving me."
He immediately knew exacdy what I meant and was immediately furious. His dark 
eyes blazed, and he half rose from his chair.
This was a new experience. I could only ever remember Joachim truly angry with 
me once before in all the years I'd known him. He might take my threat to kill 
him very calmly, but not die suggestion that he had broken his vows of 
chastityespecially with the woman his oldest friend loved.
"How do you dare" He stopped and took a deep breath then, and I could see him 
fighting back his anger
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as though it were a physical presence. "No," he said, quietly and icily.
"I know that now," I said quickly.
He gave me a long, burning look. "I swear to you, by the blood Christ shed for 
us, that I have never touched her."
I dropped my eyes, deeply shamed. I was fairly sure bishops were not supposed to 
utter oaths like that. When I finally dared look up again, Joachim was examining 
his hands as though he had never seen them before.
But he suddenly looked up at me and did the last thing I expected: he smiled. He 
was certainly full of surprises today
"No wonder you wanted to kill me," he said. "Well, I am grateful you did not. 
You were right to call me complacent." He shook his head ruefully. "Sin always 
awaits us, no matter how carefully we think we guard against it. I had not 
realized diat wrath could overcome Christian charity so easily"
He put a hand on my shoulder. "Forgive my anger if you can, and tell me why you 
think someone has taken Theodoras love from you." He smiled again. "We talk 
about you frequendy, and I know she loves you dearly."
Theodora and I sat on opposite sides of the gold-ceilinged room. I myself would 
have preferred to have her next to me, my arms around her, but she seemed to 
prefer it this way.
After several hours' unconsciousness here in the bishop's best guest chamber, 
the one where visiting church dignitaries stayed, I felt both rational again and 
deeply humiliated by my own actions. I had been guilty of some very strange 
behavior at times in the past, but this had gone beyond all bounds, even for me. 
In retrospect I could not imagine what madness could have impelled me to do 
something so eminendy likely to lose me bodi my best
Daughter of Macic                          109
friendeven if I hadn't killed himand die woman I loved. The wizards' school 
would doubdess have agreed not even raising a perfunctory request for mercy 
such as die cadiedral would have forced itself to makewhen die city authorities 
condemned me to hang. Theodora's unwillingness to sit any closer seemed only 
appropriate.
"Theodora, you know I'd do anydiing for you. I'd die for you."
She smiled and shook her head. "I realize you think you mean it, but that's what 
the boys always tell the girls in all the songs."
"I'd give up wizardry for you."
"We've already been dirough fhat many times. You couldn't give up magic, no 
matter how much you wanted to, no matter how hard you tried."
I was rapidly running low on sacrifices I could make for her. "Then what can I 
do?"
She gave the worst possible answer. "I don't want you to do anything."
We sat in silence for a minute. "Can I still visit you and Antonia?" I asked 
then, trying not to sound abject and not succeeding.
"Of course," she said in surprise. "It would take more than a nightmare to 
change that. You're sure she's all right alone in the casde?"
"I told you I telephoned Gwennie fhis morning," I said wearily. I had talked to 
Elerius as well, making sure no more magical attacks had taken place while I was 
gone, but I did not want to bofher Theodora now with undead warriors.
Silence stretched out again between us. "Well," I said then, putting hands on my 
knees preparatory to rising, "if there's nothing I can do to make you love me, 
fhen maybe I should get back to Yurt." I waited to see if she would say anything 
but she didn't. "At least Antonia seemed happy when I told her I was her 
father."
110                          ' C. Dale Brittain
Theodora abruptly smiled, with the lift of her brows and the dimple that I 
loved. "I'm so glad you told her! She had been asking about you the last few 
weeks, but I thought you would enjoy telling her yourself."
It was as though the cool, reserved tone our conversation had taken had suddenly 
broken. I did not dare move but waited to see what Theodora would say next. She 
came across the room, took me by the ears and kissed me. "Maybe even in the 
bishop's palace it won't be too sinful to kiss the man I love."
I wrapped my arms around her so she couldn't get away again. "I don't understand 
you, Theodora," I said into her hair, feeling happiness breaking over me in 
spite of myself. "Why do you have to be so conventional sometimes? Why can't you 
just tell me what you feel?"
She pushed herself back to look at me, though I kept a grip tight enough to 
forestall any attempts to escape. "Considering that you call me a witch," she 
said, a smile twitching the corner of her lips, "I'm surprised to hear myself 
suddenly accused of conventionality."
"You were just sitting there coldly, listening to me say I would do anything to 
make you love me, saying you didn't want me to do anything!"
"Of course I don't want you to do anything," she said with a hint of a laugh. "I 
already love you! But it's not respect for 'convention' that makes me feel that 
I should try to rise above concerns of the flesh here, as the bishop would 
surely want us to do. It's respect for him, as the representative of God. He is 
so far above all of us knowing him as well as you do, you must surely feel it 
too."
It might be nothing like my nightmare, but in some areas she still felt more 
strongly about Joachim than me. I pulled her tighter to avoid meeting her eyes 
and maybe seeing something whichI managed to persuade myselfI would not see 
anyway.
Dauchter of Magic                          111
"But I think he might understand now," she said, kissing the side of my face. 
"When he sent for me he said you were very upset and had had a nightmare that I 
didn't love you." Her voice took on a teasing note. "Since you came to him 
yourself for comfort and guidance, why be surprised that I respect him as much 
as you do?"
It was more than I deserved that Joachim had not told her that I had threatened 
to kill him.
"But I don't follow your reasoning, Daimbert," she said more seriously. "Somehow 
I think you're saying that because I have tried to be a mother on my own, acting 
strong for Antonia's sake no matter how hard it is to be separated from you, 
rejecting the easy path of tying you down with marriage, I'm being 
conventional?"
"It's because you want me to behave like an ordinary, unmarried wizard, while 
you try to act like a virtuous, self-supporting seamstress," I said lamely.
"It is deliberate, Daimbert," she said quiedy. "If I want Antonia to have any 
sort of normal childhood, I have to be above suspicion of being just one more 
woman who threw away her virtueI hope you are not equating convention with 
morality! And I really don't care what 'ordinary, unmarried' wizards do. All I 
want is what will make you happiest, and that is not being driven out of Yurt by 
your king and snubbed by your school."
It was clearly no use to argue with her or to point out that she was not giving 
me the chance to make decisions for myself. And if she worried more about 
morality than I did Well, wizards had never had much use for religion anyway.
Something in her comment teased out a thought about Elerius. Would he hold over 
me threats of revealing all to the school in order to bind me to him for 
purposes of his own?
But I didn't have the time or energy to worry about
112                           C. Dale Brittain
him. I looked into Theodora's amethyst eyes and managed to smile. "I guess I'd 
better make it up to the bishop for breaking in on him this morning by trying 
again to find out more about die strange magic-worker here in the city."
IV
Theodora had not seen the Dog-Man, but I hoped to learn more from Celia. 
Escaping from the bishop s palace, I crossed town to die little casde belonging 
to the kings of Yurt, where the royal family stayed when visiting Caelrhon. As I 
hoped, the duchess's daughters were diere.
Hildegarde looked irritated and bored, but Celia appeared to be experiencing 
intense joy. "Thank you for sending me here, Wizard," she said, taking bodi my 
hands. 'This is the chance I have long waited for, that I feared might not 
exist, and I would not have it but for you."
"The chance for what?" I said, too startled to appreciate her gratitude.
"To study for die priesthood, of course," said Celia. "I've been so happy tfiat 
I've been sending pigeon-messages to all the people who have encouraged me over 
the years in a religious vocation."
And these, I felt fairly certain, did not include her parents.
"She met that Dog-Man all right," said Hildegarde, leaning against the doorjamb 
and cleaning her nails with a knife. "And now that the bishop has accepted him 
into the seminary he's promised to come teach her in the evenings everything he 
learns during the day."
Celia shot a sharp glance at her sister but said only, "I told you not to call 
him Dog-Man anymore. The
Daughter of Magic                     113
children call him that, of course, as a sign of affection, but his real name is 
Cyrus."
Cyrus. So at least now I had a name to go with the fragmentary and contradictory 
things about him I had learned from Theodora and the bishop.
"His religious vocation is so strong," Celia went on eagerly, "that he spends 
most nights in prayer, lying before the high altar in the cathedral."
This, I thought grudgingly, might explain why I had not been able to find him 
when I was here before. He wouldn't have had to be hiding from me deliberately. 
In prayer, he would enter the supernatural realm of the saints and be beyond the 
reach of my magic. "Any particular sins he's trying to atone for with all this 
penitent prayer?" I asked, half as a joke.
But Celia did not take it as a joke. "He feels terrible urges within himself," 
she said in a low voice. "That that is why he has killed innocent creatures. 
That is what he hopes he will overcome through penitence and tbrough immersion 
in the sanctity of the seminary."
"Does the bishop know this?" I asked in amazement.
"He" She hesitated, then pushed on. "Cyrus may not have told His Holiness 
everything."
And she already had my own authorization to act behind the bishop's back, I 
thought grimly.
"But his prayers have always restored the creatures," she said in what was 
probably meant to be a hopeful tone.
I didn't like at all the idea of the duchess's daughter spending time alone with 
someone with "terrible urges." I started to forbid her, with a sharp rebuke for 
her lack of sense, ever to see him again.
But too many people had been telling her what she could and could not do. On the 
other hand, to be killed by someone I persisted in thinking of as demonic would 
probably be a mild, even pleasant experience compared
114                           C. Dale Brittain
to what the duchess would do to me if she thought I had allowed one of her 
daughters to be hurt. Why, if a young woman decided to find her own vocation and 
her own way in life, must it be by putting that life in peril?
I looked toward Hildegarde, the one sure defense Celia might have. She nodded 
her blond head slowly and wordlessly, meeting my eyes. She understood the 
situation even better than I did.
"Oh," I said, remembering what had been happening in Yurt while the twins were 
gone, "you missed some excitement, Hildegarde." I told her briefly about the 
warriors' attack.
She cheered up at once. "It sounds like we'd better get back to Yurt right 
away," she said to Celia. "Paul will want me there in case anything further 
happens. And don't you think, Wizard, that this might be an attack on the Lady 
Justinia? After all, she'd just arrived when this happened. So the king may want 
to post a guard in her bedchamber, and it had better be another woman!"
"Do what you like," said Celia quiedy. "I shall remain here."
"But you can't stay here by yourself!" Hildegarde protested.
"Why not? We need not always do everything together. And if I went back to Yurt, 
Cyrus would not be able to teach me what he learns in seminary."
Hildegarde fidgeted, eager to show what a woman's strong arm could do against 
creatures of darkness, yet unwilling to leave her sister to the Dog-Man. "And we 
still haven't showed the wizard's niece how to deal off the bottom of the deck," 
she said to her sister as an added inducement to return to Yurt. "You know 
you're much better at it than I am."
"Uh, Hildegarde, maybe the two of you can stay here
Dauchter of Magic                       115
just a little longer," I said. "I'm going to find this Cyrus and talk to him 
myself."
"But he won't want to talk to a wizard," said Celia, rising abruptly from her 
chair. "He has had evil experiences with wizardry. In becoming a priest, he 
intends to break all ties with magic."
So had this man been at the wizards' school along with everything else? I really 
did need to talk to him soon, no matter what Celia might think.
I left the little castle a few minutes later to head out of the city. Although 
the Romneys had denied categorically any knowledge of someone called Dog-Man, 
they might have information about someone named Cyrus. Both Yurt and Caelrhon 
were tiny kingdoms, probably unknown to most of the people in the west, much 
less anywhere else. If this would-be priest had come here intentionally, rather 
than just wandering into town by accident, he would have needed directions from 
someone who traveled here fairly frequently, which would mean either the 
merchants who brought up goods from the great City or else the Romneys.
Although we in the Western Kingdoms tended to consider the kingdoms east of the 
mountains as "eastern," in fact there was a very long distance past them still 
to go into the East The multitude of small kingdoms and principalities where the 
Romneys were believed to have originated formed a barrier between our Western 
Kingdoms and the true East. Far beyond that region, in the old imperial city of 
Xantium, they must consider our Western and Eastern Kingdoms an undifferentiated 
western mass.
The streets of Caelrhon were packed, as they always were these days, and I had 
to ttiread my way carefully toward the city gates. The square in front of the 
cathedral, once the main market square of Caelrhon,
116                           C. Dale Brittain
had for several years been full of construction equipment, and now rising from 
the center was what would someday be the great doors and flanking towers of the 
new cathedral. So far the doors opened not into a cathedral nave but only onto 
more piled timbers, stones, and vats of mortar, but every time I was in town I 
could see that the crew had brought the new church one small step closer.
Beyond the city gates the dense crowds thinned out rapidly, though a number of 
people besides me seemed to be heading toward the Romney encampment. Today the 
brightly painted caravans were surrounded by horses. Afternoon sun shone on 
glistening coats, black, bay, and dapple, and summer breezes ruffled manes and 
tales. The Romneys themselves in their black and red ducked and dodged their way 
between the animals, talking confidently to the other people there.
The Romneys, it seemed, were holding a horse-fair. Knights and merchants and a 
few farmers milled around the encampment, both buying and selling. Horses 
stamped, kicked, and bared their teeth at each other. Some of tliese were riding 
horses, some plow horses, and a few unbroken colts. On every side I heard 
extravagant claims by would-be sellers of the virtues of horses that looked no 
different to me than those that were being harshly criticized by would-be 
buyers.
But it did look as though all the adult Romneys were involved. The children were 
half a mile away, playing by themselves. I wandered toward them, trying not to 
draw attention to myself from the adults. High white clouds sat on the horizon, 
but the sky above was clear.
"There's the wizard!" one of the boys called, breaking away from the rest to run 
toward me. "Make me another snake!"
It was the same boy, peering at me with shiny black eyes from under shaggy hair, 
to whom I had first spoken
Daughter of Magic                     117
a few days ago. The other children raced to gather around us. Again I made an 
illusory ruby-eyed snake that curled up his arm and quivered its tongue at him. 
"Now make it real!" he said.
I shook my head, smiling. "That's beyond the reach of natural magic," I said.
"How about the Dog-Man?" a girl suggested. "I'm sure he could do it!" One of the 
other children elbowed her hard, and there was suddenly a bashful silence.
My illusory snake was fading fast. "When I was here before," I said, looking at 
the children with a wizardry scowl, "you told me none of you had ever met the 
Dog-Man. But I think now you really had, even though you might not have realized 
it at the time." The children shuffled their feet, and I knew I was right. "He's 
the same man who traveled to Caelrhon with you a few weeks ago, isn't he. He's 
calling himself Cyrus now; what name did he give you?"
The children, laughed, embarrassed. "When did you find out that the man the 
children in the city were talking about was one you already knew well?" I 
pressed them.
"You can't blame us for not knowing who he was," the oldest boy piped up. "He 
never did things like bring dogs back to life when traveling widi us\ Maybe," he 
added thoughtfully and unconvincingly, "he knew we'd see straight through his 
illusions."
I myself had long since given up any hope that what this man was doing was mere 
illusion. "Tell me more about him," I suggested, jingling coins ostentatiously 
in my pockets.
"Well, I decided to go into town and see him," announced one of the girls, 
tossing her hair. "We'd heard such strange things about himand you had asked us 
about him, Wizardthat I went down by the river to find him. And it was Cyrus!"
The oldest boy apparently decided that as long as
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the story was out anyway he might as well tell me what he knew and at least get 
die credit for it. "He always told us his name was Cyrus," he broke in. "But he 
never told us he was a wizard."
"Where did he join you?" I asked casually, not wanting to show how urgendy I 
wanted to know.
"East of die mountains. We were heading diis way for the summer, and he came up 
to our camp, asking if we'd ever heard of Yurt. . . ."
I went cold. Vlad had lived in die Eastern Kingdoms, far beyond die mountains. 
Could he himself be Cyrus, here bent on vengeance against me?
"We told him we were going to Caelrhon, which was very close to Yurt," said die 
boy, taking my attentive silence as an invitation to continue.
But nothing diat I remembered of Vlad suggested he would decide to become a 
priest. Mentally I shook my head. I was letting my imagination get carried away. 
There could be plenty of explanations botii for the attack on the casde and for 
this very strange miracle-worker widiout having to imagine it had something to 
do widi long-ago events or even with me. Elerius had diought it might, but even 
Elerius, I told myself firmly, could be wrong.
"Did he say anything about wanting to enter die seminary?" I asked. The children 
were growing resdess, finding the topic of Cyrus rather dull and clearly 
wondering if I was going to do anydiing widi my coins besides jingle diem.
"He asked us if we were Christian," said the girl who had spoken before. "I told 
him we weren't. By the way, are you wizards Christian? Some priest came out from 
die city last week and was trying to make us go to his church, and I told him to 
start on wizards before bodiering us!"
"Wizards are Christian," I said hastily, not wanting
Daughter of Magic                          119
to go into detail on die millennia-old conflict between magic and religion, and 
pulled out a handful of coppers. I divided diem between the girl and die oldest 
boy, and when I headed back toward town diey were busily counting and assessing 
how diey should be distributed.
So Cyrus had come west widi die Romneys, I diought, strolling dirough die 
sun-warmed meadows. And he had been looking deliberately for Yurt. This need not 
have anydiing to do widi Vlad to be distincdy ominous. The dark chill on die 
summer day had nodiing to do widi die weatiier.
But what could have possessed this strange half-wizard to enter Joachim's 
seminary?
I sat down in die shade of a tree, thinking that I ought to demand diat die 
bishop forbid diis man to talk to Celia, or for that matter to anyone, and diat 
he be expelled from die seminary. But it was going to be hard to do so widiout 
any information more solid dian what I had bought from a group of children not 
generally credited widi high standards of honesty. It would be especially hard 
since I was still mortified enough by behavior I was now trying to pretend had 
never happened that I was unsure how I could ever face Joachim again.
V
I must have fallen asleep sitting under die tree, because die next diing I knew 
I found myself half-slumped at a very awkward angle, and the tree's shadow 
stretched long across the meadow.
Rubbing a stiff neck, I sat up and looked toward die Romney encampment. The 
breeze that made silver tracks in die long grass was cooler now. The horse-fair 
seemed over; die last steeds were being led away. Well, I diought, it seemed 
only appropriate diat a day diat
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had begun with nightmare-inspired madness should end without my accomplishing 
anything at all.
I rose and stretched. I had behaved idiotically with Theodora as well as with 
Joachim, but it was always so good to be with her that the attractions of 
spending the evening at her house far outweighed the embarrassment of facing 
her.
And then I saw a lone figure striding across the meadow. He was dressed in 
black, so that his person and his long shadow seemed to merge into one. He 
walked with his head down and hands behind his back, paying no attention to the 
Romneys' camp or anything else.
Cyrus! I thought, heading rapidly toward him. Now was my chance to confront him.
But it was not the mysterious miracle-worker from the Eastern Kingdoms. It was 
the bishop.
Joachim glanced up as I approached. He gave a start as though surprised to see 
me still in Caelrhon, or perhaps to see anyone. But then he nodded gravely in my 
direction and kept walking.
At least he did not seem frightened of mebut then he hadn't this morning 
either. I fell into step beside him. Something must be very wrong for the bishop 
to be out here alone, without any accompanying priests, without guards or 
servants.
We walked in silence for several minutes. "I had not expected to meet you, 
Daimbert," he said at last, "but perhaps it is only appropriate that I do. For 
it is because of our conversation earHer that I have spent much of today 
searching my soul and have now come to a very difficult and terrible decision. 
For I know that God first summoned me to the office of bishop, and it is because 
of my own sins that I must now resign."
I stared at him, stunned. What could my wild accusations have done to him? Or 
could he But I dismissed this idea before it could even form.
Daughter of Magic
121
"The devil is even more subtle than I had imagined," Joachim continued, soberly 
and quietly. "I told you this morning that I knew well my own sins, but I was 
wrong. I have sinned, and sinned willingly, in ways that I kept hidden even from 
myself. It is only fitting that I tell you first, Daimbert, before announcing my 
decision to the cathedral chapter."
"Uh, I thought bishops had chaplains of their own to whom they were supposed to 
confess their sins," I mumbled. At this point, tired, humiliated, and deeply 
worried about Yurt, I didn't think I was in much of a position to help a bishop 
through a spiritual crisis.
Joachim paid no attention to my mumblings if he even heard them. "For you were 
right. It is especially against you that I have sinned." He had been avoiding my 
gaze, but he suddenly turned toward me, his enormous deep-set eyes darkly 
shadowed as the sun sank toward the horizon. "I began wondering why I should 
have become so wrathful at your accusations, when it should have been clear that 
these were only the product of the fears that lurk in midnight dreams. But in 
turning my thoughts over I realized that it was the wrath of a sin that fears 
exposure."
We had stopped walking and stood facing each other. Joachim was taller than I, 
and I had to look up at him. The breeze fluttered his vestments around his 
ankles and stirred his hair.
"You distrusted Cyrus when I first told you about him," he said. "And then today 
you said that it was my sins that had allowed a demon t6 enter the cathedral. 
Although I am still certain that Cyrus is no demon, you were right that a 
bishop's sins can put his entire church in mortal peril. If I can no longer sift 
out evil from good, then I cannot in conscience lead my flock.
"As I told you, Daimbert," he continued quietly, "I have never touched Theodora. 
And in eschewing sins
122                              C. Dale Brittain
of the flesh, I had managed to persuade myself of my own purity. Of course I 
spoke with her often about her duties as seamstress for the cathedral, and even, 
in quiet moments that each of us might take amidst our responsibilities, we 
would share a cup of tea and talk about you. I was happy, I told myself, that my 
oldest friend had won the love of such a woman, and that the two of you could 
prosper together in chaste friendship, die parents of a fine ktde girl. But 
today I have had to ask myself: did I counsel Theodora in physical purity only 
so diat I did not have to think of her loving another man as she could never 
love me?"
I had to interrupt him, even if he was giving voice to ideas I had unwillingly 
had myself. I could see his eyes now within the shadows of their sockets, and 
they burned like dark coals. "Joachim, you're getting yourself all upset for 
nothing. None of your cathedral priests will understand what you're talking 
about. Theodora has always admired you, and you, quite naturally, appreciate her 
fine qualities. I can't believe diat a bishop immediately falls into sin if he 
thinks well of a woman."
He took a deep breath and held my gaze with his as though determined to push 
dirough a reluctance to reveal somediing deeply disgraceful. "But I have not yet 
told you all. When you first went to the guest chamber to sleep, leaving me with 
my thoughts, I was almost amused, thinking that I could well understand your 
murderous intentions. After all, I told myself, for a woman like Theodora a man 
might well do anything to keep her from pain or harm, even gladly kill another 
in the full knowledge that he would damn himself for eternity, world widiout 
end. And then I listened to what I was thinking. Horrified at myself, I resolved 
I should never see her again. It was when I realized how much I would miss her 
that I knew I must leave Caelrhon at once and become a hermit."
Daughter of Magic                          123
Tou can't be a hermit," I said weakly before the intensity of his gaze. "You're 
the bishop."
"And in my misery and sin," he said, looking away at last and seeming to pay no 
attention to anything I said, "I thought this afternoon to walk to the hermitage 
in diat deep valley at the east end of Yurt. If I started now, I told myself, I 
could be there in two days. I would leave my vestments and episcopal ring for 
the Romneys to find. If they kept the ring for themselveswell, it had become 
too tainted for the next bishop to want anyway. Naked I would reach the valley 
and beg the hermit with tears of penitence to accept me as a novice."
The picture of Joachim walking naked across two kingdoms in order to shave his 
head and become an apprentice hermit was almost too much for me. Shoulders 
quivering, I managed to suppress hysterical laughter. The bishop would probably 
only consider it appropriate punishment for me to laugh at him on top of 
everything else, but I could not let it out. The thought of the hermit of the 
shrine of die Cranky Saint, a man who had been a ragged apprentice hermit 
himself when I first met him years ago, did not help.
"That was why I was so startled when you walked up to me, Daimbert," Joachim 
continued after a moment, looking out to what was shaping up into a rather fine 
sunset. 'Tou appeared like the voice of conscience, telling me by your very 
presence that a bishop cannot walk away from his duties without even telling 
anyone diat he is going, and diat to escape widiout confessing my sins would be 
only to embrace them. My true penitence must come in facing my cathedral 
chapter. They will be surprised when diey hear that tiieir bishopwho, I have 
led diem to believe in my own sinful complacency, is a virtuous manhas fallen 
so far."
I knew I had to talk him out of it if I could only dunk
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of what to say. Somehow my own insanity this morning must have infected him. 
"Don't do anything you may regret without giving it proper thought," I said 
inadequately and out of my own experience.
Joachim turned, and we started slowly back toward the city. The sun had slipped 
behind the horizon, and the whole world now was shadowed. "Would it be better to 
tell my chapter this evening, in a privacy that would not disrupt die simple 
faith which Christians have in their priests," he asked, "or would it be best to 
announce it publicly at the high altar tomorrow morning? Would my sins be more 
truly atoned for if I suffered public humiliation, or am I only taking a 
perverse pride in how far I have fallen?"
Considering that I did not feel he had fallen at all I had trouble answering 
him. But then a light flickering in the distance before us caught my eyes.
It was not a lingering ray of die sun remaining on Caelrhon when gone from the 
rest of the land. Quickly I shaped a far-seeing spell. At die same time the 
sound of die alarm bells, one high and desperately urgent, one deep widi a note 
diat seemed to enter the blood, rang out from the cathedral tower and across the 
meadow grass toward us.
"Come on!" I cried, lifting from the ground to fly. 'The city's on fire!"
PART FOUR
Cyrus I
Even before we reached die city walls I could hear die roar of the flames. It 
was die bellow of a gigantic animal, a wordless, implacable voice, above which 
human shouts rose insubstantial and confused. Over all rang the unceasing note 
of die alarm bells.
Flying, I reached the city gates before the bishop, but only by ten yards. The 
fire had taken hold in die shops and inns lining die high street, just within 
die gates. The street was jammed with onlookers who had to keep dodging sparks. 
Flames licked from windows in upper stories, and exploding bottles shot high. 
The bishop said somediing beside me, but I could not hear him. A roof went widi 
a roar, the collapsing blackened timbers silhouetted against the lurid light.
Not die cadiedral, I told myself desperately, not die artisans' quarter where 
Theodora lived, not the castie where die twins were staying. Joachim was no 
longer beside me, but I had no time for him anyway. If I could somehow restrict 
die fire to diis street. . .
The people who lived here must already have emptied die big barrels kept at 
every corner, for diey had formed
125
126
C. Dale Brittain
a human chain to bring more water up from the river in buckets. Ordinary school 
magic, the magic of light and air, was useless here. I braced myself against a 
gatepost and tried instead to find in the magic of fire something to slow this 
blaze.
Originally I had learned fire magic from Theodora. It was slippery and 
dangerous, bringing one into contact with vast and inhuman primordial forces. 
Lighting and controlling fires could usually be done by such simple, ordinary 
methods that wizards stayed away from these perilous spells. But I deliberately 
left the well-worn tracks cut through magic by generations of wizardry to 
venture where few successfully went, to skitter through magic's four dimensions 
and try to find a way to rein in flames now rising twenty feet above a ruined 
roof.
And found another mind trying to do the same thing. Theodora! I touched her 
thoughts for a fraction of a second, unsure where her body was but more 
confident than I had any right to be with her magic joined to mine.
She was still better at fire magic than I was, even though most of her 
experience lay in lighting candles and cooking fires, not in trying to hold back 
flames which had now consumed a city block and were roaring in anticipation of 
the next one, flames that could have come straight from hell. Slowly, almost 
delicately our minds worked together, darting carefully into the forces of 
magic, pulling back just before we had gone too far.
And then, suddenly, we turned a flame whose tip had leaned toward an untouched 
thatch roof. The men and women with buckets threw water at the flames base, and 
the water evaporated into hissing clouds of steam. But more water kept coming. 
The flame's tip wavered again and moved backwards, shrinking, no longer 
threatening the next house across the street.
Daughter of Magic                     127
The dark evening sky had become orange above us. I took a breath of air that 
could have come from an oven and tried again. There, and there! Dancing through 
spells in the Hidden Language, twice almost being sucked so deeply into the 
forces of magic that I might never have found myself again, I sought a way to 
turn the next flame, then the next
I came back to myself with a thump as my legs collapsed beneath me. Hard magic 
is physically exhausting. Rubbing a bruised hip, I looked up with no idea how 
much time had passed. But the townspeople had the fire in check. Clouds of white 
steam snll rose with every bucket of water poured, but no more flames flickered 
in the windows or out the roofs, and the great roar of a lion the size of the 
cathedral was no more than a growl.
Then I looked around at those people not actively involved in fighting the fire, 
the groups watching disconsolately the destruction of what had once been their 
businesses or homes. Many were blanket-wrapped children, staring in horrified 
fascination. The city mayor was there, grubby and without his chains of office, 
but I heard him announcing that the covered market would be open for anyone who 
needed shelter.
I saw Joachim then, speaking to people and helping pass out the bread and ale 
that someone had brought from elsewhere in the city. The cathedral would 
doubtless buy much of the food for the families forced in the next weeks to five 
at the covered market. I wondered, too tired from hard magic to give the idea 
much consideration, if the bishop still intended to resign, and whether he might 
decide this fire was somehow punishment for his own sins.
Again I found Theodoras mind. She was as tired as I. "I'll be by later," I told 
her. "Much later, I'm afraid. Get some sleep. Thank you."
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C. Dale Brittain
Pushing myself away from the gate, I started walking, finding back alleys to 
dodge around the area where the fire still lingered. The houses now appeared 
more black than orange, but it would be midnight or later, I knew, before the 
last coals were extinguished, and none of the structures was salvageable. People 
were talking now of how the fire might have started, several men saying 
confidently that they had heard the problem began with a chimney fire, others 
speculating whether a child left alone might have allowed a fire to spread 
beyond the hearth.
A voice stopped me. "I'll bet you it was the Romneys."
I made my legs start walking again, but this man, whoever he might be, was not 
alone. By the time I left the streets surrounding the area where the fire had 
raged, I had heard four more people speculating that it was not simply an 
accident but arson by the Romneys.
Why them? I asked myself, hurrying toward the little castle on the far side of 
town. They had done nothing to hurt the people of Caelrhon, except perhaps beat 
them in sharpness of horsetrading.
But they came from the Eastern Kingdoms, spoke their own language, and were not 
Christian. Those were, it seemed, sufficient reasons to suspect them.
No one appeared to have gone to bed in the city. The smoke had permeated all the 
streets, and rumors and reports of the progress of the fire ran up and down 
around me. Celia, who met me in the same hall of the castle where we had spoken 
earlier, seemed the only person not concerned about it. She set down her Bible 
and came forward to grip my hands with an excitement that had nothing to do with 
the fire. In dim candlelight her eyes were featureless smudges against her fair 
skin.
"This evening, Wizard," Celia said with great solemnity, "Cyrus came as he 
promised and taught me
Daughter of Macic
129
what he had learned in seminary today. So my education as a priest has begun!"
I thought of asking what good it would do her to have the training if she still 
could not be a priest, but maybe it would be better to have her think of that 
herself. My immediate question was more urgent. "Where is Cyrus now?"
"Probably in the dormitory with the other seminary students, if he is not at 
prayer in the cathedral."
"And Hildegarde?"
She shrugged. "I think she went to join the bucket brigade." So at least word of 
the fire had reached her. I might have passed Hildegarde among all the shadowed, 
soot-darkened people and not even recognized her.
I excused myself and hurried away. She stood in the doorway to watch me go, her 
Bible in her hands again. Celia was here in Caelrhon in the first place because 
of me, which probably made me responsible for her, too, even though her 
acceptance of this miracle-worker and her eagerness to follow him made her 
useless as the spy I had intended her to be.
Carefully I picked my way through the construction site in front of the 
cathedral. The workmen's huts were empty and dark. But through the stained glass 
windows of the church I thought I could see lights faintly burningunless it was 
only the reflection of the last of the flames.
But when I pushed open the heavy doors I could still see the candles' yellow 
glow before me, glinting on the inlaid mosaic of the tree of life on the floor 
of the nave. Slowly, listening for the sounds of someone else in the church, I 
walked toward the high altar. The pillars were dark, shadowy shapes on either 
hand, and a dozen people could have hidden behind them. The smell of smoke was 
faint here, overlaid by incense.
Candles clustered on the altar, glinting on the golden
130                           C. Dale Brittain
crucifix. In their light I saw a black-clad figure lying on the flagstones that 
surrounded the altar. I stopped, reluctant to disturb him, waiting for him to 
lift his head and see me. When I had waited for several minutes, I spoke at 
last. "Cyrus?"
He stirred then, rising slowly to his knees to look toward me. There was enough 
light to see him clearly: dark complexioned, with deep-set eyes and high 
cheekbones over gaunt cheeks, features that reminded me disconcertingly of a 
young Joachim. He did not look as though he knew how to smile.
I went down on my heels beside him. "I am Daimbert, the Royal Wizard of Yurt, I 
understand you don't like wizards, but I need to talk to you."
He stared at me unspeaking for a moment. I traced around a mosaic tile in the 
cathedral floor with a fingernail, making a sharp right angle at the corner, 
forcing myself to be patient. Cyrus's eyes darted from side to side, but then 
whatever he saw in the shadowy cathedral seemed to reassure him. "I shall speak 
with you, Daimbert."
As the bishop had said, his deep voice had a slight accent, though not quite the 
same as the Romneys'. He rose, dusting himself off, and walked a few yards to 
sit in the front pew. Everyone in the twin kingdoms called me Wizard, rather 
than by my name; the only exceptions were Joachim and Theodora. The one demon I 
had ever met had also called me Daimbert.
But now that I was sitting beside Cyrus he seemed only very intense and very 
sober. There was a faint aura of the supernatural about him, but he was 
certainly no demon incarnate. "I understand," I said cautiously, "that you come 
originally from the Eastern Kingdoms."
He shook his head. "My past is of no importance. I have determined to become a 
priest under the direction of a most holy bishop."
Daughter of Macic                     131
A most holy bishop who was threatening to resign, I thought. But could Joachim s 
reputation have possibly reached into the Eastern Kingdoms? Everyone here 
revered himeven including me when I wasn't threatening to kill himbut it was 
hard to imagine that anyone would have heard of him many hundreds of mues away, 
far past the mountains.
I had the oddest feeling that Cyrus had known who I was, perhaps had even 
expected to meet me. "But you were trained in wizardry," I said. Now that he was 
sitting beside me it was unmistakable. He was no more a fully trained wizard 
than he was a demon, and he was not actively practicing magic at the moment, but 
it is virtually impossible to erase magic's imprint.
He turned abruptly away, clenching his fists. "Once I thought that magic might 
impart the power to aid others," he said in a low voice that hinted at 
experiences he did not want to recollect, "but I know now that wizardry leads 
only to darkness."
I had no leisure to worry about his sensibilities, not with unliving creatures 
stalking Yurt and assassins from Xantium doubtless searching for Justinia. "You 
were not trained in the wizards' school," I persisted. "Did you perhaps serve an 
apprenticeship east of the mountains, where the school's influence does not 
extend?"
He turned sharply back toward me, the candle flames glinting in his eyes. "I 
told you my past is of no importance. And I do not think I should say more to 
you, Daimbert, about the Eastern Kingdoms. If you have nothing else to discuss, 
I would prefer to return to my devotions."
I had quite a bit else to say to him. "Then let us not talk of your past," I 
said hastily, "but only of what has happened since you came to Caelrhon. So far 
I have heard that you have restored to life or wholeness several animals and a 
little girl's doll." I paused, waiting for
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C. Dale Brittain
some response, but he looked away from me in silence. My ears strained for other 
sounds in the shadowy church, but the faint taps and scurryings did not appear 
to be anything other than the normal sounds of any large building at night. 
"This is not any magic I know," I continued, "and I would be interested in 
learning how you did it."
He shot me a brief glance, then turned his eyes back toward the crucifix on the 
altar. His face was dark and sharp in profile. "I am in Caelrhon to learn the 
ways of God," he said quietly, "not to teach magic to a wizard."
Careful questioning didn't seem to be doing any good. "Listen," I said harshly, 
putting a hand on his shoulder. Under the vestments of an acolyte I could feel 
clearly the shape of his bones. Maybe not the personification of evil, I told 
myself, but there was evil in this man no matter what he had said to the bishop. 
"Since you first arrived here my royal castle has been attacked by warriors made 
by magic from hair and bone, and tonight the high street here in the city 
burned. Someone with the powerful magic to restore life, even if only the life 
of an animal, might well be thought to be behind undead warriors, and even more 
so be suspected of arson."
Slowly he turned toward me again, and his gaunt, sober face was transformed by a 
smile. It built slowly, working its way from his lips up to his cheekbones. The 
effect was shattering. I had to dismiss at once my thoughts of him as evil, for 
there was a joy and a deep love in that smile that confounded me again with the 
similarity to Joachim.
"I have not prayed here in vain," Cyrus said, putting his own hands on my 
shoulders. "Whatever ill may have befallen the city will be restored."
I was so surprised that for a moment I could not answer. Then I heard a creak 
from die hinges of die small side door of die cathedral, and the smell of smoke
Dauchter of Magic                     133
became momentarily stronger. Someone else had entered die church.
Cyrus and I- waited in silence, listening to the approaching footsteps. A tall 
figure stepped from the shadow of a pillar into die candlelight. It was the 
bishop.
Now that I saw them together, Joachim and Cyrus did not look anydiing alike. The 
bishop was taller, and his face was alive widi die power of good. The same good 
had burned in die other's expression when he smiled, but he again was sober and 
die effect was gone.
Joachim lifted his eyebrows when he saw us. It must seem to him that I had been 
showing up all day at die most inappropriate moments. I wondered what to answer 
when he asked why I was questioning his new seminary student after he had told 
me not to, especially if Cyrus complained diat I had been quizzing him about his 
experiences with wizardry.
But die bishop did not ask why I was here. "Forgive me for disturbing your 
conversation," he said instead. "I came to offer dianks to God for the safe 
deliverance from fire of the city's people, even before die dianksgiving service 
I shall lead tomorrow. I had not known diere was anyone else in die church."
"My devotions kept me overlong, Father," murmured Cyrus, die perfect humble 
seminary student. He dipped a knee toward die altar and retreated hastily, die 
side door closing hollowly behind him. It looked like any furdier conversation 
with him would have to wait.
"I'm leaving too, Joachim," I said. I thought of trying to say again diat he 
shouldn't do anydiing rash without giving it more diought, but the outbreak of 
die fire had put such an effective end to our discussion on diat topic that I 
was not sure how to bring it up again. "I'll be heading back to Yurt first 
tiling in the morning."
"Before you go," he said, not nearly as embarrassed
134                           C. Dale Brittain
as I was, "I want to ask you something. The fire died out much more rapidly than 
anyone had dared hope was that due in part to your magic?"
"Mine and Theodora's," I said, and was immediately sorry I had mentioned her 
when the bishop dropped his eyes.
"Then I am glad I found you to thank you," he said gravely, not looking at me. 
"Convey my thanks to her as well when you next see her. More priests should 
recognize how often God works through human agents, even wizards." There was an 
awkward silence for a moment, then he asked quiedy, "Are you going to Theodora's 
house now?"
"Yes." It seemed as though I ought to add more, but I was not sure what. One of 
the candles on the altar guttered out with a strong scent of hot wax.
"When you see her," said Joachim, now in a flustered tone that did not sound 
anything like him, "I would be grateful if That is, unless you think there is a 
need to say"
"I did not plan to tell her what you have told me."
There was another silence. Confessors are supposed to maintain the secrets of 
the confessional, but both of us knew that someone who takes his secret sins to 
a wizard does so at his own risk.
Joachim raised his enormous dark eyes then to meet mine. "This has been a 
strange day, Daimbert," he said at last, which seemed an understatement. "Before 
you return to Yurt tomorrow, come to the episcopal palace and talk with me."
When I walked the length of the nave to the main doors and glanced back, it was 
to see him kneeling before the altar on the flagstones where Cyrus had lain.
Dauchter of Magic
135
II
The sun shone through Theodora's curtains when I rolled over the next morning, 
just barely avoiding pitching myself off her couch and onto the floor among the 
cloth scraps. I had spent quite a few nights on that couch over the last five 
years, but it really was too narrow. From the kitchen I could hear rattling 
sounds of someone making breakfast.
"What time did you get in last night?" Theodora asked as I leaned, rubbing my 
eyes, against the doorframe. She seemed to be tactfully not recalling that 
the.last time we had met face-to-face I seemed to have lost my mind. "I was so 
soundly asleep I didn't even hear you."
"I know. I didn't want to wake you." I took the piece of toast she handed me and 
wolfed it down. When I thought back over yesterday's confused events, I couldn't 
remember eating at any point. "How about if I scramble us some eggs?"
As we sat at her kitchen table in the morning sun, eating eggs and toast and 
drinking hot tea, everything seemed so safe and normal that for a moment I could 
merely have imagined the events of the last week. The light brought out golden 
highlights in Theodora's curly brown hair. But one thing was missing. Antonia 
should have been here with us.
"Where did you go after the fire was contained?" Theodora asked. "I know I 
should have tried to help with the families and the children, but I was so 
exhausted I could hardly stand." A smile brought out her dimple. "How do you 
wizards ever manage to practice magic all the time?"
For a moment I stopped eating to listen to a sound of distant voices carried 
from elsewhere in the city.
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C. Dale Brittain
They might have been voicing surprise or wonder, but at least it did not sound 
like fear. "I finally met the Dog-Man last night. His name is Cyrus, and he's 
just become an acolyte in the cadiedral seminary." I paused for another bite. 
"He worries me, Theodora. There's magic about him, though he's no wizard, and a 
hint of the supernatural that seems strangely different than what you'd expect 
of a devout young would-be priest." She had finished a much smaller breakfast 
than mine and watched me with sober amethyst eyes. "And I can't help wondering 
what he's got to do with the warriors who attacked Yurt."
"What warriors?"
I remembered just too late that I had never told her about die attack on die 
royal castie and had in fact been meaning to let it slide until Antonia was 
safely home again. But the city of Caelrhon, witii its fire, fears of the 
Romneys, and Cyrus, might be no safer than the castle of Yurt, guarded now by a 
far better wizard than I. I told Theodora briefly about the attack.
"There wasn't enough magic left in their bones for me to learn much about:" I 
stopped abrupdy. "Wait! I just remembered! I handled diose bones yesterday or I 
guess it would be the day before. I wasn't paying very close attention at the 
time, so if there was some kind of latent spell in them, ready to infect a 
wizard who wasn't careful, and through him" I seized her by die shoulders. 
"Theodora! Are you feeling all right?"
"Of course I am. Why shouldn't I?" She looked concerned, as well she might.
"I diink there was a spell in diose bones that affected me, and now I'm 
infecting other people." I stopped just in time from telling her about Joachim. 
"You aren't feeling, for example, a wild conviction that I don't love you, or 
tfiat Antonia is in danger? You aren't fearing diat everyone in town knows you 
for a witch and holds it against you?"
Daughter of Macic                          137
Now she looked alarmed. "Daimbert, what are you talking about? 7s Antonia in 
danger?"
"All right," I said, mosdy to myself, gulping down the last of die tea. 
"Everything's fine. It didn't affect you. Maybe it can only infect once. But 
widi die bishop this morning And I almost forgot, he wanted me to come see him. 
That reminds me, Theodora. Joachim told me to thank you for your fire magic last 
night."
The distant sound of voices came clearer again as die breezes shifted, and die 
cathedral bells were ringing as tiiough for service, although I diought it was 
die wrong time. Maybe it was the special thanksgiving service the bishop had 
mentioned. Theodora came around die table to put a palm on my forehead. "Are you 
sure you haven't become feverish again?"
I pushed back my chair and stood up. "I'm fine as long as you are. I'll 
telephone Elerius from the cadiedral office and tell him to check those bones 
for spells at once. And I'd better get back to Yurt before Antonia starts to 
doubt that I really am her father." I kissed Theodora and smiled reassuringly. 
"In a few days, when I bring her home, I can tell you all about it."
As I walked briskly through the city streets, I noticed diat all die smoky smell 
had dissipated overnight. Somehow I had expected it still to linger. The 
cathedral bells grew louder as I approached.
The voices grew louder too. Feeling suddenly uneasy, I quickened my pace. There 
was a disconcerting note to that many people shouting together, a wordless sound 
diat could have been die voice of last night's flames.
The open area in front of the cadiedral was packed. People stood in every 
available spot between the huts and supplies of the workmen and die piles of 
stones. All sectors of society and all ages seemed to be diere; children darted 
between legs to try to get closer, or begged to be lifted high enough to see. I 
spotted Celia
138                        C. Dale Brittain
near the front, Hildegarde beside her, and then was startled to see King Paul's 
Great-aunt Maria trying to scramble up onto a heap of building supplies for a 
better view. What was she doing here?
The crowd kept pushing forward like the motion of the sea, with a murmur like 
the sound of waves, and the shadows of die cathedral's new towers lay across 
them. I couldn't get any closer to eidier the twins or the Lady Maria without 
flying. At the top of the cathedral steps, facing the crowd, stood the bishop.
'The miracle is God's!" he called out over that wordless murmur. He wore his 
formal scarlet vestments and tall episcopal mitre and extended his arms wide. 
"Come into God's house where we can offer dianks together to Him! Nothing is 
impossible for Him who rules all!"
But the crowd was disagreeing with him. What miracle? I wondered wildly. We all 
had reason to be grateful no one had been killed in the fire, but there was much 
more going on, and I had somehow missed it.
"No, my sons and daughters!" the bishop continued, even more loudly and clearly. 
His gaunt face was intense, and his eyes focused not on the crowd but on the 
sky. "It is idolatry to speak like that to a living, sinning mortal!"
What could possibly be happening? I tried again to shoulder my way through 
toward the front of the crowd, not wanting to practice magic diis close to a 
church with everyone speaking of a miracle. The crowd was too intent on the 
bishop to pay any attention to me, although several people almost stepped on my 
toes.
"So if you didn't call down the saints to save our homes," a booming voice 
shouted from almost next to me, "then who did?"
"The Dog-Man!" someone else shouted, and a dozen voices took it up. "The 
Dog-Man, the Dog-Man!"
"Cyrus!" called a woman's voice from the front of the crowd. It rose almost to a 
scream. "Cyrus!" I looked
Dauchter of Macic                     139
to see the source of the voice and saw that it was Celia.
One big cathedral door opened, and the seminary's newest student popped out like 
the figure in some child's game. "It was Cyrus who worked the miracle!" screamed 
Celia as though in ecstasy. I saw Hildegarde take her by the arm, but she shook 
her sister off. "Praise God! Praise God!"
Cyrus, his sharp face sober, stood beside Joachim with his arms extended in an 
identical pose. The bishop turned his head and came as close as he ever did to 
looking irritated.
"Give not me the praise, but the saints who heard my humble prayers," said Cyrus 
when after a moment the crowd's wordless shouts died away. "My merits are but 
meager; it is die sincerity of my heart that the saints have answered. Come, let 
us worship together!" He spun around, apparentiy finding nodiing wrong with 
inviting Joachim's flock into Joachim's own church, and led die way as die 
townspeople poured up the steps after him.
Celia was one of die first through the doors, but I reached the Lady Maria 
before she managed to descend from the building materials on which she had so 
precariously perched. She gave me a smile when she spotted me. "Right on time!" 
she announced and launched herself into the air. I was just able to catch her, 
both with my arms and with magic, and set her carefully down.
"How nice to see you, Wizard," she said conversationally, straightening her 
dress. "And what a marvelous tiling that a miracle-worker has come to the twin 
kingdoms and diat our Celia is studying witli him!"
Things were happening much too fast for me. "So you came because Celia wrote 
you?" I asked, hoping for at least one solid piece of information. Celia had 
said sometiiing yesterday about telling all die people
140                           C. Dale Brittain
who had supported her in her religious vocation that Cyrus was going to teach 
her.
"And fortunately I got here just in time to see his first big miracle!" 
continued the Lady Maria cheerfully. "Come onwe don't want to miss the 
service!"
"What miracle?" I demanded, blocking her path.
"Restoring the burned buildings, of course," she said blithely. "When I arrived 
this morning everyone was talking about it. Don't tell me," with a playful 
smile, "that just because you're a wizard you're going to pretend it never 
happened!"
"Um, go ahead into the church and I'll catch up," I said and shot off without 
waiting for an answer.
But she was quite right. The burned street had been restored.
The buildings stood silent and empty now, since everyone was in church, but the 
charred remnants I had seen late last night were back to their former state, as 
solid as ever. Wood and plaster structures leaned over the high street, and 
sunlight glittered on windowpanes I had seen smashed. I wandered down the 
street, doubting my own eyes, and tried pushing against the timbers in a 
halfhearted and futile attempt to persuade myself it was all an illusion.
I put my head into the doorway of an inn, blinking in the dimness. There was 
spilled ale on the wooden bar, filth in the straw on the floor, and dirty plates 
and mugs on the tables. A brown rat poked its nose out of the straw to look at 
me and scurried away again. Whatever saint had restored this street seemed to 
have been very literal. If I had been working a miracle, I would at least have 
cleaned up the place a little.
Flabbergasted, I leaned against the rough plastered wall outside. This certainly 
let the Romneys off from accusations of arson. The inn sign, its paint peeling,
Dauchter of Magic
141
creaked over my head. Perhaps all the events of the day before had been my 
imagination, I thought wildly. But if so all the townspeople now at the 
cathedral, treating a quite willing Cyrus as though this was all due to his own 
merit, shared the illusion.
The air around me almost glittered with the force of the supernatural. The city 
always had a touch of the supernatural anyway, evident to any wizard, because of 
the presence of the cathedral, but this went much further.
Mixed with the aura of the saints was the faint but unmistakable imprint of 
evil.
Ill
Afternoon sun shone on the polished wood of the bishop's study. Joachim, 
bareheaded but still in his formal scarlet, sat behind his desk, his enormous 
dark eyes fixed on me. "I cannot leave my cathedral and my people now," he said 
quietly, "not until I know what is happening here."
"It's not complicated," I said, irritable because my insides felt so cold my 
legs were trembling. We could hear, faint in the distance, laughing and singing 
from the high street, where the innkeepers had announced free ale for everyone 
in honor of the miraculous restoration of their businesses. "Cyrus is working 
with a demon." How, I asked myself, could I ever have imagined there was 
anything good about him? "And as long as you won't let me take him out of the 
cathedral there's nothing I can do about it."
"It could have been as he says," Joachim said somewhat uneasily. Whatever else I 
might have done, I seemed to have made the bishop doubt his own judgment. "The 
saints might have answered his prayers and restored the buildings."
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C. Dale Brittain
"I thought you just said the saints don't do dungs like that," I shot back.
He shook his head slowly. "I have never known of such a thing. A saint might act 
to protect his own shrine, and saints of course keep demons out of the churches 
as long as the hearts of the priests are pure, but they do not usually concern 
themselves with the material things of this world."
"Then if it wasn't a saint," I said firmly, "it's got to be a demon."
"Even a demon could not restore a soul from death," Joachim objected. He spoke 
quietly but his gaze was intense.
"We're not talking about restoring a soul," I said, looking away. This could not 
be any easier for the bishop than it was for me. Fingernails dug into my palms. 
"I think he's made time run backwards, very locally. That's how he rebuilt the 
houses, how he repaired the toys, even how he brought animals without souls back 
to life. Let me call the demonology experts at the school."
Joachim lifted an eyebrow. "You did not call them from the cathedral office when 
you said you needed to call Yurt?"
For all I could tell he might have been making a joke. "Of course not. I don't 
lie to you, Joachim. I called Yurt because Antonia's safety is even more 
important to me than your demon."
"It is not," he said, no trace of humor now, "my demon."
The thought crossed my mind diat if Cyrus indeed was working supernatural black 
magic, then he could not have been behind the undead warriors; that had been 
perverted but natural magic. Which meant that I had anodier faceless enemy to 
worry about as well as the Dog-Man. "Whoever's demon it is," I snapped, "we need 
an expert to find it and send it back to hell."
Daughter of Magic                     143
The bishop rose with a swirl of vestments. "Let us go speak to Cyrus together 
then, Daimbert. I will not have you or any other wizard bullying one of my 
seminary students."
"He may be infecting the rest of your students with evil," I said as we went out 
through the study door, the same one I had slammed behind me yesterday morning 
as I came to murder the bishop. A fine one I was to talk about 
infectionalthough the madness seemed to have passed off him as quickly as it 
had passed off me.
"If the saints heard his prayers and truly worked a miracle," said Joachim, 
ignoring my comment, "he needs my spiritual guidance so that he does not become 
puffed up and proud. By now the crowds will have dissipated, and I may even be 
able to call my cathedral my own again."
The only thing I had going for me, I thought as we walked the short distance 
down the cobbled street from the episcopal palace to the side door of the 
cathedral, was that die bishop now seemed as disturbed to have the Dog-Man and 
his purported miracles in his church as I was.
But die crowds had not yet completely dissipated. Cyrus, a thin black form, 
knelt in prayer at die high altar, and at least a dozen people, mosdy women, 
knelt beside him. Colored light from die stained glass windows washed over them. 
Among diem were Celia and die Lady Maria.
Hildegarde stepped out from behind a pillar to meet us. 'They've been like diat 
for ages," she muttered. "I would have thought diey'd be stiff by now."
The Lady Maria and several of die odiers, among whom I now recognized die mayor, 
were indeed shifting uncomfortably. But Celia, her head lowered and face very 
white, seemed transported beyond issues of physical comfort.
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C. Dale Brittain
The bishop went down on his knees beside them. In a minute the townspeople 
seemed to become aware of him. Several lifted their heads and glanced toward 
each other uncomfortably. After a few more moments, a man rose and tiptoed 
quiedy away. Joachim, his eyes closed, paid no attention. Two women followed, 
then another. Last of all the mayor rose, murmuring, "I will not forget," and 
patting Cyrus's shoulder as he turned to go. Soon Celia and the Lady Maria were 
the only people left kneeling beside the bishop and his newest seminary student.
Maria looked up, then got to her feet, shaking out her skirt, and came over to 
the front pew to sit next to me. "Our chaplain never expects us to kneel on die 
stones like that," she said in a good-natured undertone, "or not us old ones 
anyway! But dien a little suffering may be good for die soul, or so the priests 
tell us."
Bodi Cyrus and Celia lifted their heads tfien. I met the Dog-Man's eyes 
fleetingly before he looked away, then reached for words of the Hidden Language 
to try to find indications of evil around him. A blatant but silent spell, 
worked direcdy contrary to what the bishop would have allowed me to do if I 
asked him, revealed no supernatural power beyond that of the saints. Maybe, I 
thought in disappointment, folding my hands and trying not to look like a 
wizard, Cyrus had checked his demon at the cathedral door.
Celia did not give me a chance to probe any furdier. "Holy Father, I am so glad 
for dris opportunity to see you," she said to die bishop, her voice low and 
vibrant "My life and my spiritual calling have long been confused, but now at 
last tiiey are clear. I shall leave tomorrow for die Nunnery of Yurt, there to 
make my profession as a novice."
Just as I had feared all day. The bones' infection had now gotten to someone 
elsenot to Theodora, but to
Daughter of Magic                       145
Celia. If Cyrus was responsible for die warriorsand die bonesthen he had even 
more to answer for than perverting die people of Caelrhon. But I was also 
interested to notice that in diose widi a religious bent, like Celia and 
Joachim, this strange infection apparendy made diem want to dirow away 
everytiiing for quiet contemplation. Would die bones make anotiier wizard as 
murderous as tiiey made me? Perhaps, I told myself, dismissing die question, it 
was not good to ask too many questions about die differences between priests and 
wizards.
When I had spoken to Elerius on the telephone, he had reassured me that no one 
in Yurt had started demonstrating inexplicable behavior. While I waited, 
listening tiirough die receiver to die distant sounds of die royal castie of 
Yurt and thinking I might hear Antonia's voice, he had probed die bones again. A 
subde, almost invisible spell, very unlike any school spell, had dissolved by 
itself while he was trying to find a way to neutralize it. That should mean, I 
tried to reassure myself, that Celia would be die last.
But in die meantime she had just announced, publicly and unequivocally, her 
intention to become a nun. "If that is your choice, my daughter," said the 
bishop kindly, "and God has guided you in it, dien of course I shall do all to 
assist you."
"But, excuse me, Holy Fadier, she can't!" cried Hildegarde. "Motiier would kill 
her."
"Christ said diat those who would follow Him must forsake even father and 
mother," put in Cyrus, "braving the cross for His sake."
"You need her permission," said Hildegarde, ignoring him and taking her sister 
by the shoulders. "You're supposed to become duchess of Yurt. You can't just 
dirow it all over witiiout even telling her!"
"We shall discuss diis furdier in private," said Celia
146                           C. Dale Brtttain
in an icy tone that I myself would not have dreamed of arguing with. She dipped 
her head to the bishop and to Cyrus?and hurried down the nave, Hildegarde 
behind her.
The Lady Maria bounced up from the pew. "I should get over to the castle," she 
said. "I brought the Princess Margareta with me, and she's probably wondering 
what's been happening all day. We got in first thing, you realize, and I knew 
something was up but that it would take a wise head to straighten it out, not 
the princess's curls!" I had known the Lady Maria twenty-five years and had not 
yet once thought of her as having a wise head, but it was much too late to 
explain that to her. "So I'm afraid I've left the little princess sitting all by 
herself, when my plan had been to give her some amusement by taking her on this 
trip. I don't think she ever had more than a schoolgirl's infatuation for the 
king, of course, but after what's occurred I thought it better to provide her 
with some change of scene."
And she pranced out, leaving me staring after her. What had occurred? I wanted 
to shout. Elerius had not said anything about Paul and die Lady Justinia having 
eloped, or whatever else diey might have done, but then he probably would not 
see it in die same light as I would. I had needed to get back to Yurt for two 
days, now more than everif it weren't for the matter of an acolyte working widi 
a demon.
Cyrus, left alone now widi Joachim and me, made as if to go, but die bishop did 
not give him a chance. "I need to talk to you, my son," he said gendy, "about 
the miraculous restoration of all trie burned houses and businesses. Even the 
Bible does not record such events."
"Compared to die Lord's parting of die Red Sea," said Cyrus, looking at me 
suspiciously, "the rebuilding of a few charred structures is trivial."
"But you," said Joachim dioughtfully, "are not Moses."
Dauchter of Magic                       147
"No," said Cyrus prompdy, "and diat is why I am so profoundly grateful to die 
saints who have listened to my poor prayer."
I bit my lip to keep from saying several things, mosdy doubting and sarcastic. 
This was Joachim's cathedral, and especially now that Cyrus was starting to act 
as if it was his instead, the bishop would not want die interference of a 
wizard. "Why," he said, even more gendy, "do you credit your own prayers, my 
son, ratiier than diose of odiers?"
Cyrus looked up at him quickly, dark eyes shadowed. In his quiet answer there 
was a trace of something tiiat I would have called smugness. "Because die saints 
told me so, Fadier."
I couldn't listen to him anymore. I walked halfway down the nave and leaned my 
forehead against a pillar. The only point on which I felt unsure was whedier he 
was deliberately trying to mislead die bishop or whether he was deceived 
himself. He seemed horribly sure of himself, but was tiiat because he did not 
even know diat a demon was working beside him? Suppose die demon, who must be 
lurking somewhere in die city, waiting for him to emerge from the cadiedral 
again, had deluded him into dunking diat it was not a demon but a saint?
I turned my head to glance back toward the front pew where Joachim and Cyrus 
were talking. If he was now trying to deceive die bishop, tiien I would take him 
by the scruff of the neck with my strongest binding spells, regardless of what 
disrespect I might be doing die church, and drag him to die demonology experts 
at the school. (This of course assumed I would have the slightest success 
against someone who used supernatural power to oppose mea point on which I did 
not want to dwell.)
148                           C. Dale Brittain
But suppose, said a cold doubting voice in the back of my mind, a voice that 
remembered all the times over the years that my absolute convictions had been 
absolutely wrong, that the reason my best spells could now find no direct sign 
of evil about him was because there was nothing to find?
Wizardry could reveal nothing about the state of a mans soul, and might not 
reveal a demon who was carefully hiding, but it should certainly indicate if 
someone was practicing black magic in my face. "Let me ask him something," I 
said brusquely, striding over to where the other two sat.
"Ask me no more questions about wizardry," said Cyrus in a meek tone, his eyes 
lowered. "I already told you I have left all that behind."
"But," I said, clenching my fists so I wouldn't grab him by the throat and shake 
him, "you yourself may not be working magic, Cyrus, but you've sold your soul to 
the devil!" The bishop went very stiff but did not interruptmaybe he was too 
shocked to do so. Or maybe he was preparing himself to spring on me if I showed 
signs of trying to murder Cyrus as I had threatened to murder him. "Admit it!" I 
said, just below a shout. "You're working with a demon!"
Echoes ran up and down the aisles, then for a long moment there was silence in 
the church, while I wondered if the bishop would ever speak to me again. At this 
rate he might still decide to go become an apprentice hermit, just so that in 
leaving the affairs of the world he would never have to see another wizard.
Cyrus lifted his head, looking not at me but at Joachim. "I have not despaired 
of my soul or abandoned it to the powers of darkness," he said, quiedy but very 
firmly. This sounded like prevarication to me. "I can swear on whatever saints' 
relics you like, Holy Fadier."
Joachim rose abruptly, not looking at me either. 'That
Daughter of Magic                       149
will not be necessary. Forgive us, my son. I hope you realize that with a 
miracle this spectacular it is the duty of an officer of the Church to 
investigate it fully. And I'm sure you realize that you must acknowledge this 
miracle with abject humility of soul. You may return now to your studies and 
devotions." He started rapidly down the nave, scarlet vestments flying behind 
him, and I almost had to run to keep up.
But the bishop slowed and turned his deep-set eyes on me as we reached the door. 
"Weren't you saying, Daimbert," he said coldly, "that you needed to get home to 
Yurt tonight?"
IV
After leaving a message at the little casde for the twins and the Lady Maria, 
saying I hoped to see them in a day or two back in Yurt, I flew homeward through 
the twilight, trying to cheer myself up by reminding myself that at last I would 
be back with Antonia again. It didn't work.
"It's just not fair," I said as though I was presenting someone a logical 
argumentperhaps Theodora? "Joachim forgave me for trying to Ml him. Why should 
he now be furious with me for being maybe just the tiniest bit harsh with one of 
his seminary students, when all I was trying to do was protect his cathedral? 
You'd think he wanted to have a demonic acolyte developing a cult following 
right under his nose.
"Well," I continued, "I just don't care! If Cyrus has sold his soul, that 
certainly doesn't bother me. And since what he apparendy wants in return for his 
soul is to be thought a holy miracle-worker, then there should be no danger to 
anyone else. And why should a wizard care if some priests are misled? They're 
confused most of the time anyway."
Whoever I was addressing had no good answers,
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except to point out that I seemed to be protesting quite a bit for someone who 
didn't care at all. And I didn't even want to raise the point that an 
experienced wizard, one whom the masters of die school trusted to be able to 
deal with a demon, could not find one in spite of being convinced that it was 
there.
The drawbridge was up when I reached Yurt, just as dusk was darkening at last 
into night I was pleased to be challenged immediately as I flew over the wall, 
although the knight excused himself when he recognized me.
Antonia would have been asleep for some time, I thought, heading toward the 
kitchens, remembering that I hadn't eaten since breakfast with Theodora. There I 
found Gwennie, disconsolately eating leftover strawberry shortcake straight out 
of the serving bowl. There was still enough in it for at least four people.
The fires were banked for the night, and she ate by the flickering light of a 
single candle. I took the bowl from her and pulled it toward me. "Did anything 
interesting happen in Caelrhon?" she asked with complete indifference.
I didn't answer, my mouth full of strawberries and whipped cream.
"It looks like the fine Lady Jusrjnia is planning to stay all summer," Gwennie 
said after a minute. At least, then, she and Paul had not eloped. "The stable 
boys tell me her elephant is eating hke a dozen horses. I tried to find out, 
politely of course, how long she planned to stay in our best guest rooms, and 
she said she could not say until she had word from Xantium that things were safe 
there again."
I made myself recall the situation here in Yurt. If I was completely wrong about 
Cyrusand even if I was rightI was still responsible for defending both those 
who lived here and the lady who had been entrusted to my protection.
Daughter of Magic
151
Gwennie sighed and played with her spoon. "Paul is teaching Justinia to ride a 
horse. Can you believe she'd never learned? She said at dinner today that she 
could captain a sailing ship, but what good will that do her in Yurt?"
"None," I said, scraping the bowl.
Gwennie looked at me properly at last and started to smile even through her glum 
mood. "You're very hungry, Wizard," she said, with the recognition of the 
obvious which any good castle constable had to have, "or else you're depressed. 
Or both."
I didn't ask which of these explanations accounted for her sitting by herself, 
polishing off the leftovers after the cook and the kitchen maids had all 
retired. She found me some cold meat and salad from dinner.
"Could you contact that mage in Xantium?" she asked with more of her accustomed 
energy, sitting across the table from me again while I ate. "It seems a shame 
for the lady to have to wait without any word from home."
I wasn't fooled by her concern for Justinia's peace of mind, but if was a good 
idea. "I don't think there are any telephones in Xantium, Gwendolyn," I said 
thoughtfully. It was a different experience eating dinner at the kitchen table, 
in a room usually full of bustle and activity but now dark and quietand also 
different to have the dessert before the meat course. "Telephones work by 
western, not eastern magic. But I can try to find out tomorrow how the merchants 
in the great City manage to get important messages through to their 
representatives there."
I rose and stretched. It seemed much more than two days since I had left. "Is 
Elerius still in my chambers? And is Antonia still in with you?"
"The wizard is still in your chambers," said Gwennie in a neutral voice. "But," 
with more animation, "your niece is in the Princess Margareta's roomdid you see
152                        C. Dale Brittain
her down in Caelrhon, by the way? The princess decided she wanted the little 
girl with her after she'd broken that precious doll of hers, and Antonia stayed 
when she left."
I supposed wearily that a good wizard should protect those he served from their 
own folly as well as from undead creatures. Maybe it would be a relief to worry 
about whether the princess whom everyone (except of course Paul himself) 
expected the king to marry still liked playing with dolls ratfier than about 
whether a demon was loose in Caelrhon with Theodora.
"I'm glad you're back, Wizard," said Gwennie with almost her usual good spirits 
as we left the kitchens together. "If you'd let me eat all the strawberries by 
myself I probably would have gotten sickand a casde can't function with a sick 
constable!"
Elerius finally went home to his own kingdom in the morning, reassuring me that 
there were no more latent spells in the bones and no undead warriors within a 
three kingdom radius. 'This was an unexpected but most enjoyable opportunity to 
meet your friends in Yurt," he said before he left, stroking his black beard and 
fixing me with his tawny eyes. "It was an especial pleasure to meet your niece." 
Did he put an extra emphasis on that last word? "What a charming little girl, 
and intelligent too. I am happy to do you a favor any time, Daimbert, so be sure 
to call if any more problems arise. After all," widi a smile, "I may want your 
help someday."
The twins, the Lady Maria, and Princess Margareta all returned to Yurt in the 
afternoon, accompanied by the knights Maria had taken with her, so Hildegarde 
ended up being escorted like a lady across the countryside after all, rather 
than getting to be a knight herself.
Celia closeted herself at once with die royal chaplain,
Daughter of Magic                     153
but Hildegarde came to my chambers to see Antonia. "Have you been practicing 
your riding while I was gone?" she asked, swinging die girl up over her head 
until she shrieked with delight. "Is it time to start you on your swordplay?"
"Will you mind too much if I don't become a knight?" Antonia asked once she had 
her breatii back, looking up at Hildegarde with a serious frown. "Because I've 
been dunking. Maybe I should be a wizard after all."
When I entered my chambers the night before die rooms had nearly reeked widi 
magicas well as being scattered with endiusiastic if strangely proportioned 
drawings of wizards. Aldiough Elerius had said nothing about it, it was clear to 
me that he had been entertaining Antonia witii flashy spells in my absence.
"That's the way," said Hildegarde approvingly. "If you're going to learn magic, 
be a wizard. Don't let anyone make you settle for being a witch."
"My motiier's a witch," said Antonia proudly.
Hildegarde started to say somediing and changed her mind. She looked at die girl 
dioughtfully a moment, then shrugged and turned to me.
"I haven't been able to talk Celia out of it," she said . quietiy. "By evening 
yesterday she'd lost that possessed look she had earlieryou must have seen 
itbut she said tiiat now diat she had announced to die bishop her intention to 
become a nun she had to take her vows. I must admit tiiat miracle of Cyrus's 
staggered me too, Wizard; I'd been on die bucket brigade, and I saw diose 
buildings consumed. But I tried to remind Celia that she'd always wanted to be a 
priest instead of a nun suggested she disguise herself as a man and go to some 
odier seminary, even got so desperate as to offer to go in disguise as an 
acolyte myself and dien come home and teach her what I'd learned!but nodiing 
would budge her."
154                           C. Dale Brittain
"When does she plan to take her vows?" I asked uneasily, thinking of die 
duchess's wrath.
"I think tiiat's what she's discussing widi the chaplain." Hildegarde shook her 
head. "I'll send a pigeon-message to Mother and Father tomorrowI'd just as soon 
not try to explain diis to Mother over the telephone. But I believe the nunnery 
has some sort of novitiate period, during which women can change their minds. So 
it's not hopeless yet. The real problem, Wizard, is diat Celia is nearly as 
stubborn as I am."
During dinner that evening all die conversation was about the miraculous 
restoration of the high street of Caelrhon. Celia said virtually nothing and 
only played widi her food, but the Lady Maria was in her element. "It's like 
somediing out of die old stories of the saints," she said endiusiastically. "The 
holy man walks out of die wilderness into the city, and no one recognizes his 
power except die children, until at last a great miracle puts everyone in his 
debt and silences all doubters."
"I saw it too," said Princess Margareta. She seemed, at least for die moment, to 
have forgotten bodi Paul and Justinia and basked in her position as assistant 
bringer of wonder-stories. The chaplain expressed an interest in making an 
immediate pilgrimage to meet Cyrus, and several people said diey would join him.
But I had other concerns. After dinner I drew the king aside. He had listened 
politely to Maria's stories, but most of bis attention was still given to 
Justinia. They had gone riding that afternoonhe on his red roan stallion, she 
on an old white mareleaving before I realized their plans. I did not like the 
idea of them roaming the countryside witiiout a wizard's protection against 
whatever magical enemies might be pursuing Justinia.
But I was supposed to serve King Paul, not order
Daughter of Magic                          155
him around. "Could you do me a favor, sire," I asked diffidendy, "and take me 
along if you give die Lady Justinia any more riding lessons?"
"So you dunk I need a chaperone, Wizard?" he said widi an amused smile. He 
glanced across the hall to where the Lady Justinia was talking to die queen. The 
eastern lady diis evening was wearing an iridescent blue silk dress diat matched 
her eyelids and left her shoulders bare. The Princess Margareta stood a short 
distance away, trying to appear uninterested in dieir conversation. "Did my 
mother put you up to this?" Paul added.
"Of course not!" I said in irritation. "It's none of my business who my king 
decides to marry! But it is my responsibility to protect bodi you and her from 
black magic."
"I thought you and diat wizard friend of yours had cleared up diat problem," 
said Paul, still looking amused. "Or should I ask you for the return of die 
Golden Yurt?" He laughed and slapped me on die back. "You can tell whoever is 
worrying about me that I'm not planning to marry the Lady Justinia. Of course 
she's an attractive woman, but I'm merely trying to keep her entertained during 
what must be for her a rather tedious stay in a foreign land."
While I was relieved to hear this, it crossed my mind diat die mage Kaz-alrhun, 
in sending Justinia to Yurt, may have had some such plan of his own. He was 
always calculating how to make events redound to his advantage, and he may 
indeed have intended die king of Yurt to fall in love widi die lady. In spite of 
his immense shrewdness, Kaz-alrhun had become convinced, due to a rather 
improbable series of events, diat I was one of the Western Kingdoms' greatest 
wizards, and it was possible diat he hoped an alliance between bis niece and my 
king would bind me to him.
Paul looked past me, smiled again, and ran a quick
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C. Dale Brittain
hand over his hair. I turned to see the Lady Justinia coming toward us. But she 
turned her almond-shaped eyes not toward the king but instead toward me.
"Come thou this eventide to my chambers, O Wizard," she said in her melodious 
voice. She turned slightly as she spoke, addressing me over a naked shoulder. " 
Twould seem the time is ripe for thee and me to hold conversation."
"Of course," I said. I should tell her that I was trying to get in contact with 
Xantium. Now that I had met Cyrus, perhaps it would be possible to find out if 
she knew anyone like him who might be involved in the plot against her. And 
perhaps I could persuade her, even if I could not persuade the king, that she 
really needed a wizard with her whenever she ventured outside the castle walls.
As we left the hall together, I glanced back to see Paul glaring after us. If he 
had not just told me he had no romantic interest in the Lady Justinia, I would 
have said he was jealous.
V
Justinia's automaton had a fire blazing, even though I would have called the 
evening warm. She seated herself gracefully on the carpet by die hearth and 
motioned me to join her. I recalled as I lowered myself much less gracefully 
that this was a flying carpet, although at the moment it showed no sign of going 
anywhere.
"I've been trying to find a way to talk to the mages in Xantium," I said. "But 
the City merchant I reached this morning assured me there are still no 
telephones in the East. He was rather huffy about it, feeling it was somehow the 
wizards' fault. Now, I know diat some of the eastern mages communicate through 
images in deep pools of water, so I was thinking that if I was able to
Daughter of Magic
157
telephone someone in the furthest east port where the western merchants have 
telephones, then I might"
But she interrupted with a look of horror. "Thou must not attempt to contact 
anyone in Xantium! Any magic would be traced in a moment, and then my enemies 
would pursue me even unto Yurt!" Her automaton rose at the alarm in her voice 
and approached me in slow, silent menace.
"All I want to do is talk to Kaz-alrhun," I said in surprise. "He already knows 
you're here."
"But he remains die only one." She leaned toward me and gripped my hand. "Even 
my most trusted slaves did not learn my destination. Please, I beg tfiee in 
God's name, do not play at chances widi my life!"
"Well, I flunk I could find a way to call widiout it being traced," I started to 
say, dien trailed off. The automaton retreated again. Justinia leaned closer, 
still holding my hand, close enough that I was almost overwhelmed by her 
perfume.
"And I was also going to say," I continued quickly, trying to keep from 
babbling, "that it may be dangerous for you to leave the castle without an 
escort. I know the king never takes any knights with him when he rides, but if I 
came with die two of you"
Her red lips curved into a smile. "This is better. Let us speak no more of 
Xantium, where my enemies are and I am not. Let us speak of Yurt and of die 
king."
"Well," I said, feeling flustered and wishing she would release my hand, 
especially since her rings were starting to bite, "he doesn't seem to think he 
needs any magical protection. But since I don't want to play at chances with 
your life any more than you do, I would appreciate it if you would ask him 
yourself next time if I could accompany you."
"Or perchance diere may not be a next time," she said, shifting on die carpet so 
diat our knees touched.
158                           C. Dale Brittain
I drew my knee back fractionally and she pressed hers forward fractionally. "I 
would fain persuade thy young King Paul that he would do far better to take his 
woman vizier as his concubine than to pay his attentions to me."
"You said this to him?"
"Of course not," turning her head on its fine neck in a scornful attitude. "Men 
will do naught, are they not persuaded they have thought on it themselves."
And what did she hope I would think of myself?
"But he has awakened through my presence to his manhood and his position, and I 
trust that he will now find the strength to tell the old women that he will 
ne'er marry the little maid." It took me a second to realize she meant Princess 
Margareta, not Antonia. "I think my hints have already made him aware of the 
vizier's willingness to share his bed." I had no reply. She,gave me her slow 
smile again. "Now, all I must do is persuade him that he need not pay quite so 
much attention to me, that my own feelings may not be as immediate and as warm 
as his."
I had never had a chance, I recalled through rising panic, to tell Theodora 
about the Lady Justinia. First I wished she was here, then I was just as glad 
she wasn't.
"So wilt thou join me in my plan, Wizard," she asked, still smiling and brushing 
my shoulder with her black hair as she leaned even closer, "to convey to thy 
king, obliquely of course, that he should pay me no more attention?"
I had to get out of here. She was so close now that I could feel her breath on 
my cheek. Neither my relations widi Theodora nor with my king would be improved 
in the slightest by giving the eastern princess a passionate embrace, and her 
automaton had come silendy forward again, staring at us voyeuristically with its 
flat metallic eyes.
Daughter of Magic                       159
"Gracious!" I cried, wrenching my hand out of her grip and leaping to my feet. 
"I'd lost track of how late it is! I have to go say good-night to my daughter."
Justinia looked up at me in silence, blinking iridescent eyelids, as it dawned 
on me what I had just said.
I stood silent and stiff, waiting for her to say something. In a moment Justinia 
rose to her feet in a single smooth motion and took my hand again, much less 
tighdy. "Why didst thou not tell me at once, O Wizard?" she said, to my relief 
looking amused. "Antonia, is that not her name? I understand, then, that the 
maid's mother is someone most precious to diee, and here is the reason thou hast 
always been so awkward in my presence." I wouldn't have put it diat way, but I 
was at die moment incapable of speech. "Is die mother here in Yurt? Does King 
Paul know of thy love?"
I found my tongue again. "Nobody in Yurt knows Antonia isn't my niece," I said, 
looking at the floor. That is, for the moment no one else but the queen mother 
knew. It didn't seem worth asking Justinia not to tell anyone; she eidier would 
or would not as she chose. "The girl's mother does not live here, but yes," 
lifting my eyes determinedly, "she is very precious to me."
'Then I must choose another if I desire the king to wax jealous," said Justinia 
lighdy, "or would convince him that I at least will ne'er be his concubine. I 
feel foolish now, not to have guessed diat httle Antonia was thy daughter. I 
ween that the purpose of her visit here is to commence teaching her magic? It is 
regrettable, O Wizard," she added with something between a chuckle and a sigh, 
"because thou art passing handsome. Thy face and form are yet those of a young 
man, in despite of thy white beard, and dry wisdom and authority are of 
surpassing attractiveness in diemselves."
"Um, I really do need to kiss Antonia good-night," I said, backing away.
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"Of course, Wizard," she said agreeably as the automaton, with a suspicious 
look, opened tie door. Had she tried this on Elerius, too, I wondered, or would 
his much greater powers have put her in awe of him?
"Do not be shy to sit thee again by my side in spite of thy awkwardness this 
evening," Justinia added. "Give the girl a kiss from me, and be assured that thy 
secret is safe." She gave a slow smile. "I am well schooled in the keeping of 
secrets."
I spent that night and much of the next morning composing conversations with 
King Paul, in which I combined plausible and nonchalant explanations for why I 
had never told him I had a daughter with assertions assertions that never, of 
course, seemed forced or defensivethat my silence on this matter in no way 
implied embarrassment or shame about my relations with Theodora. None of these 
conversations seenled to come out right.
And yet, I reminded myself, I had brought Antonia to Yurt in the first place 
partly because I hoped to find some way to end the secrecy. This just didn't 
seem the best way to do it.
If the Lady Justinia said anything to Paul, he gave no indication to me. He went 
riding by himself in the morning while I took a stroll with Antonia.
Her hair had been curled and ribboned elaborately by the Princess Margareta, who 
seemed to be treating her as a substitute for her broken china doll. Antonia s 
Dolly too had a pink ribbon around her cloth neck. I realized, walking through 
sunlit meadows with my daughter's small hand in mine, that her visit to Yurt was 
nearly over.
"Maybe I should take Celia and Hildegarde home with me," she told me 
thoughtfully.
Daughter of Magic                          161
"Take them home?" I asked with a smile. "What will you and your mother do with 
them?"
"Here in Yurt everybody is always telling them they can't do what they want to 
do. Mother wouldn't tell them that."
"She doesn't let you do everything you want," I said, amused at Antonia's 
concern for the twins. Larks sang around us, and I was able to push to the back 
of my mind the voice which was trying out, "Wizards, of course, traditionally 
keep their private and their
Erofessional lives separate, so I therefore never appened to . . ."
"But Mother never told me I can't be a wizard," said Antonia. "Is that better 
than being a witch, by the way? And nobody will let Hildegarde be a knight, and 
now Celia thinks she'll have to be a nun because she can't be a priest. Maybe I 
should find out who keeps telling them all these things and turn him into a 
frog. What's a nun, Wizard? Is it fun to be one?"
"No, I don't think it's fun to be nun," I said, deciding to ignore the question 
about the relative values of wizard and witchand even more so the issue of 
frogs. "But I'm afraid the twins were just down in Caelrhon, and they got the 
same answers there they got in Yurt."
"Then I'll have to find a better place for them to go," said Antonia in 
determination.
We walked for a moment in silence. "Do you like my hair like this?" she asked 
then, turning sapphire eyes on me.
"Well, the bows are very nice," I said cautiously, "but I like you in simple 
braids too."
She nodded emphatically. 'That's what I decided. But I don't want to hurt 
Margareta's feelings. She broke her doll by accident, and now she has no one to 
play with but me. And this makes four different rooms in the castle I've slept 
in! I can't wait to tell my friend
162                              C. Dale Brittain
Jen. Margareta's unhappy because she doesn't think the king loves her."
I wondered whether Princess Margareta had told her this, or whether Antonia, 
with her mother's quick insight, had worked it out for herself.
"I know what I can do, Wizard!" she said with a sudden skip. "I can take them 
all to see a dragon!"
"Well, since school-trained wizards are considered wedded to magic, it seemed 
best..." said the voice in the back of my mind with forced casualness. I pushed 
the voice away again and smiled at my daughter. Everything, the pain of being 
separated from Theodora, the deception, the embarrassment now that that 
deception seemed about to be found out, was worth it because of her. "Where will 
you find a dragon? I don't think your mother has any around."           \
"I'll find one someplace," she said confidently and enthusiastically. Then 
Hildegarde can be a knight and kill it, but first the dragon wiU hurt Margareta 
so that she'll be sick in bed and the king will realize he always loved her, and 
Celia will give the last rites so that she can be a priest"
"It's a complicated scenario," I said, trying to keep from laughing.
"What's a complicated scenario?"
"Your plan. While you're at it, why not take Gwennie along too? I must say I'd 
never really considered, Antonia, that all that these women need is a trip 
someplace to see a dragon."
"That's right," said Antonia. "Gwennie is sad too. How about Justinia?"
I thought about the lady's self-possession. "She's in fear for her 
lifereasonably well concealedbut I wouldn't call her sad. But while you're 
trying to find ways to help people trapped by their circumstances and other 
peoples expectations, how about King Paul?"
Antonia appeared to be turning over my bigger words
Daughter of Magic                          163
in her mouth for a moment, but rather than asking about them she said, "I don't 
think Paul needs to go see dragons. He could see them anytime he wants all by 
himself. After all, he's king!"
I found myself wondering if Cyrus, in whom the bishop saw no evil and who had, 
at least for a moment, turned on me a smile brimming with goodness, had somehow 
found himself trapped by circumstances. But I didn't want to think of him 
sympathetically.
Antonia plopped herself down in the grass by the path. "I'm getting tired of 
walking. Could you carry memaybe carry me with magic? Or could you teach me to 
fly?"
Princess Margareta took Antonia off with her after lunch while I settled down 
for some serious magic. I could find traces of no one else's spells anywhere in 
the vicinity, but just at the edge^of my attention I could occasionally catch 
hints of something in the distance, in the direction of Caelrhon. A demon, of 
course, with access to supernatural forces, would have no trouble hiding from 
me. I circled the outside of the castle, making sure that the big white lumps of 
chalk, surrounding us with a giant pentagram, were still in place. It was 
ironic, I thought, that the pentagram had originally been set up to confine a 
demon, but could now be just as effective in keeping one out.
Back in the courtyard, I spotted the Lady Justinia talking animatedly to 
Princess Margareta while Antonia watched and listened with interest. Margareta 
made only a few awkward comments of her own but seemed to be observing Justinia 
with even more thorough attention than my daughter. The princess, I thought, 
couldn't seem to decide whether die eastern lady was someone glamorous to model 
herself after or a dangerous rival for the king's affections.
164                         C. Dale Brittain
Antonia waved to me but I just waved back and kept walking toward my chambers, 
feeling reluctant to speak to Justinia again just yet.
Sitting by my window, leafing through the Diplomatica Diabetica in an 
unsuccessful attempt to find something more useful to do, I saw Antonia dart 
away across the courtyard, but as I reached my chamber door, wondering what was 
happening, she returned to the others, pulling Hildegarde by the hand. Celia 
trailed behind her sister. The whole group disappeared into Justinia s chambers.
I smiled as I went back to my books. They could use the distraction. In a day or 
so Hildegarde's message would reach the duchess, relayed through several sets of 
pigeons, and then there would be no more time for the twins to play with 
Antonia. I ought to telephone Evrard, the Royal Wizard of Caelrhon, I thought, 
to tell him there was a demon loose in his kingdomunless of course there 
wasn't. But at least I would be able to tell him my doubts and uncertainties 
more easily than I could tell the wizards' school, though he would be just as 
displeased when I told him the demon seemed involved with the cathedral.
There were shouts of laughter from the courtyard. I glanced up to see Hildegarde 
dragging something out through Justinia's door at Antonia's direction, while the 
automaton watched uneasily. It looked like a carpet. Margareta and Celia 
clustered around. Gwennie, crossing the courtyard with her arms full of clean 
linen, stopped to watch.
So Antonia was going to pretend to take her friends far away from here on a 
flying carpet, I thought affectionately, somewhere they could leave all their 
problems behind and maybe even meet a dragon. Sometimes it was hard to believe 
someone so imaginative and good-natured was really my daughter. She stood with 
one small fist on her hip, using the other hand to
Dauchter of Magic                     165
point, ordering them into their places. They laughed as they moved to obey, even 
Celia had shed her serious look to join in Antonia's game.
I had been reading for several more minutes and had just gotten to a part 
discussing how someone who had summoned a demon from hell might be able to make 
that demon do his bidding even from a considerable distance, when there was a 
loud whoosh from the courtyard.
Jumping up, I ran to the door. The courtyard was empty except for Justinia and 
some clean towels, drifting slowly out of the sky.
The lady's normal self-possession had been driven out by fury. "What manner of 
thing is this, O Wizard?" she cried. "Thy daughter hath stolen my flying 
carpet!"
PART FIVE
The Wolf I
"How canst thou expect me to carry myself home from this benighted little 
kingdom without my flying carpet?" Justinia shrieked at me, but I was gone, 
shooting upward into the sky after a rapidly dwindling speck of color.
Theodora was going to kill me. That is, unless the duchess got to me first. Both 
Paul and the cook would cheerfully join in stripping the flesh from my bones 
when they learned Gwennie was gone. The Lady Justinia probably planned to work 
over whatever of me was left. And I hadn't even allowed yet for the royal court 
of Caelrhon.
The carpet was heading in the general direction of the city of Caelrhon, far 
faster than I could fly, but that didn't keep me from trying. Eyes streaming 
from the wind, I tore across the sky with every ounce of magic I had. But I 
realized in a few minutes that desperate, exhausting flight was not going to 
catch a flying carpet fueled by spells far more powerful than anything of mine.
I hovered in midair, desperately putting together a
167
168
C. Dale Brittain
tracer spell, then hurled it after the disappearing carpet so I that might have 
some hope of finding itor its remains.
How could Antonia have stolen a flying carpet? She had heard me say the words of 
the Hidden Language to fly it a short distance, but could a five-year-old have 
remembered the strange, heavy syllables? And what must the others be thinking, 
hurtling through die air widi a litde girl supposedly in control, a girl who was 
surely at this moment sobbing with terror herself? Suppose diey fell off, or the 
carpet tipped them off? Would it keep flying without further direction, over 
land and sea, circling the globe until it struck a mountain?
I tore my eyes from the speck that might be my last sight of Antonia to race 
back toward Yurt. I would do what I should have done at once and telephone ahead 
for another wizard to stop them. The flight to the casde seemed endless. Below 
me several villages whizzed past, none widi telephones. How could I have been 
Royal Wizard here for twenty-five years and never installed magical telephones 
in them, imagining that pigeon-messages would continue to serve, never thinking 
diat I might want a telephone to save my daughter?
Wheezing and dripping sweat, I staggered into die casde telephone room, ignoring 
die shouting and die questions. The story had gotten around fast that Justinia's 
carpet had taken off widi a crown princess, die acting castle constable, the 
heiresses to a duchy and a principality, and a litde girl. I slammed and leaned 
against die door as I gasped out the magical coordinates for die royal casde of 
Caelrhon.
It was not in die city itself but ten miles past it, on die far side from Yurt. 
But Caelrhon's Royal Wizard would be able to get there much faster dian I could 
if Antonia had intended to take her friends to meet
Daughter of Macic
169
Theodora. My moudi was so dry I had trouble making myself understood to die 
liveried servant who answered die telephone.
After what seemed a wait of several hours but could only have been a few 
moments, Evrard appeared. He gave me a cheerful smile over a bushy beard diat 
failed in looking properly wizardly because it was so dioroughly red. "Nice to 
hear from you, Daimbert," he began.
But I had no time for pleasantries. "Quick! Do you remember how to stop a flying 
carpet?"
"A what?"
He had flown on a carpet years ago when we had been in die East togedier. I 
tried to refresh his memory of the spells to command one, taking deep gasping 
breaths between words. I had no idea how much time had passed or just how fast 
die carpet was going. By this time it might be well past Caelrhon anyway.
"Stay by die phone," Evrard said briskly. "I'll call you right back." The glass 
telephone went blank.
I kept my back against die door, in no condition to answer anyone's questions. 
The wait seemed interminable. I diought I could hear die king's voice among the 
rest, but if I didn't hear his orders clearly I wouldn't have to obey.
Should I call the school in case Evrard couldn't intercept diem? But die masters 
of the school were unlikely to know anything about flying carpets. And they 
certainly would not understand why every wizard in the Western Kingdoms had to 
be mobilized to stop a runaway carpet. They wouldn't understand even if I told 
them my daughter was on itafter all, none of diem were fadiers.
How about Elerius? Orand my heart, if possible, beat even harderhad he somehow 
put Antonia up to diis? Or if not Elerius, had someone else insinuated his magic 
into die casde, putting a spell on Justinia's
170                           C. Dale Brittain
carpet so that it would fly off by itself as soon as someone sat on it?
This seemed improbableafter all, I had sat on it myself just last night, though 
I had been too distracted to spot renegade spells. But if someone was watching 
the casde and waiting for another chance to attack, the
erson who had sent the undead warriors, this would
e a golden opportunity. If Evrard couldn't catch the carpet and bring them home, 
I would have to go after them myself, all the way around the globe if necessary, 
even if it meant leaving Yurt unprotected.
I put my sweat-covered forehead against die stone wall and closed my eyes. My 
best bet might be to go straight to die cathedral, grab Cyrus, and tell him I 
was ready to sell my soul to the devil. Saving Antonia would be cheap at die 
price.
The phone rang, making me jump convulsively and scrape my forehead. I snatched 
die receiver up.
"I couldn't catch diem, Daimbert," said Evrard, looking haggard. I closed my 
eyes and wiped blood from my eyebrows. "I saw the carpet shoot over die city and 
was able to fly witiiin fifty yards of it, but I just couldn't catch it. I'm 
sorry! I don't know what else to say. There were four women and a little girl on 
itis that how many were on it when they left Yurt?"
"Yes," I said dully because he seemed to be waiting for an answer. At least none 
of them had fallen off yet.
"The girl waved at me."
"Waved? Desperately?"
"No," said Evrard slowly. "As if she were enjoying herself."
"Dear God," I groaned. Antonia, unable to slow the carpet, did not yet realize 
the danger she and all the others were in. She might not have even recognized 
her city from the air. If they continued in diis direction, within an hour they 
would be over the coast.. . .
Daughter of Magic
171
And very near Elerius's kingdom. "Get off the phone," I barked. "I'm going to 
call Elerius."
Evrard made a contrite mouth and hung up at once. Elerius too had been in the 
East, I remembered as I desperately placed the call. He must have some knowledge 
of flying carpets. Even if he had put Antonia up to thisespecially n he hadhe 
had to help me.
He came to the phone immediately. Had he been lurking nearby, I wondered 
suspiciously, waiting for a call he knew would come? But like Evrard, he seemed 
to want to begin with pleasantries, though his hazel eyes looked at me 
calculatingly from under peaked eyebrows.
I didn't have time to worry about it. I told him in a few words what had 
happened. Let him derive any pleasure he liked from knowing Antonia had taken 
his suggestion. But he said blandly that he still recalled perfecdy the commands 
for a flying carpet. I gave him the magical coordinates of my tracer spell so he 
might have a chance to spot the carpet coming if it wasn't there yet
"I'll be thiere as fast as I can," I said. "But it's all up to you." He nodded 
as he rang off.
But did I dare leave the people here in Yurt unprotected, especially Justinia? 
And what was I going to say to tliem all?
I burst out of the telephone room, scattering those who had clustered close, 
hoping to overhear. "Sire!" I shouted at Paul, spotting him toward the back of 
the crowd. "Another magical attack may come while I'm saving the kidnapped 
women! Be ready!" I lifted myself to fly over everyone's head, through the 
courtyard, to the stables where we kept the air cart tethered.
Justinia's elephant trumpeted in loud terror as I brought the purple 
flying-beast skin out past its stall. The lady was at die front of die crowd 
outside, black
172                           C. Dale Brittain
eyes snapping. "Wouldst thou care to tell me" she began with barely controlled 
passion.
I didn't wait to hear the rest. I lifted her with magic, dumped her 
unceremoniously into the air cart, and leaped in myself. As I shouted the 
command to take off, her metallic automaton sprang in after us and grabbed me by 
the throat.
The air cart, responding to my final gurgling words, rose majestically as I was 
thrown onto my back. The shouting of the knights, ladies, and servants was 
replaced by a stunned silence as we sailed off to the strong beats of purple 
wings. I could feel blood oozing from under the points of the automaton's 
fingers as I struggled vainly, trying to find enough words of the Hidden 
Language to free myself before the world went black.
"No, kill him not," said Justinia quickly to her automaton. The pressure on my 
throat eased at once. I collapsed on the bottom of tie cart, sucking in air. "At 
least," she added, "until I have questioned him."
The automaton moved to the far side of the cart. I rolled over and sat up 
slowly. "I am trying to save you, my lady," I gasped. "Someone kidnapped those 
women knowing that I would have to go after them, knowing that with no wizard in 
the castle you would be helpless. I'm only taking you along to protect you, in 
case anything else like that army of undead warriors attacks the castle
again."
"Nonsense," she said crisply, maintaining her balance easily with a hand on the 
edge of the cart. "No one kidnapped them. I heard thy daughter give the commands 
to start the carpet flying. And I would ne'er be helpless with my automaton 
near."
She might have a point there, I thought, using my handkerchief to wipe the blood 
from my neck. The flow seemed to be easing; at least it hadn't hit an artery.
"Then think of it this way," I said with as much dignity
Dauchter of Magic
173
as I could. "I am taking you to reclaim your carpet, after the unfortunate 
incident in which a little girl's game got out of handand you'd better hope to 
the saints tfiat no one is killed."
I turned away, looking gloomily at the landscape passingso slowlybeneath. It 
would have been faster to fly myself, but I was still badly winded from the 
desperate attempt to catch the carpet and might not have made it. Justinia had 
probably told everyone in the castle that Antonia was my daughter. I wondered 
why I had ever thought it mattered.
After a minute I felt a gentle hand on my arm. "Did my automaton wound thee very 
grievously?" she asked.
I turned and lifted my chin to let her finish wiping away the blood. It didn't 
seem worth answering.
"Realize this, O Wizard," she said after a minute, "that thou hast distressed me 
exceedingly. Verily die mage Kaz-alrhun thought that I would be safe in thy 
little kingdom, yet I have ne'er felt completely at ease here, and then to be 
carried away so forcibly when I had just lost my only method for e'er returning 
home!"
"Well," I said grudgingly, "dien we're even. Your automaton distressed me 
exceedingly when it tried to kill me."
At diis rate, I thought, maybe I should just plan to stay away from die casde 
for a few days. Even if I got everyone off die carpet safely, Theodora would 
never forgive me for allowing Antonia to take it from right under my nose. And 
when die story got around diat I had carried off the eastern princess, kicking 
and screaming, doubtiess witii plans to rape her, die king would not leave 
enough skin on my body for die duchess to have a decent turn. There wouldn't be 
enough of me left for a proper burialbut dien the bishop would tell diem I 
didn't deserve a Christian burial anyway.
Elerius had better have caught diem, I thought
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C. Dale Brittain
gloomily. Otherwise it was right back to Cyrus and his demon.
We flew on in silence. Justinia stood close beside me, her shoulder against 
mine. I kept staring ahead, trying to turn clouds, birds, and wisps of smoke 
into flying carpets.
And then at last I saw a rapidly moving speck, one that did not disappear when I 
blinked. It was deep red and heading toward us.
II
"That was terrific," said Hildegarde enthusiastically. "If you had a dozen of 
those carpets on the battlefield, no one could ever stand against you."
"God heard our prayers," said Celia quietly. "We must all give our thanks to Him 
for preserving our lives."
"I didn't know you wizards could do spells that powerful," added Gwennie, 
"stopping a flying carpet dead from a hundred yards away." I certainly couldn't 
have done that myselfotherwise the carpet would never have gotten awaybut I 
did not want to dwell on how much better Elerius's magic was than mine.
We all ended up having dinner crowded around the table in his study. When his 
king, twice as formal and august as Paul, learned that one of his unexpected 
guests was a crown princess and two more the daughters of a prince, he came up 
personally to meet them. He welcomed them to his castle with a few well-chosen 
words and complimented Princess Margareta as though she had been ten years 
older, but he paid no attention whatsoever to Gwennie and me and only looked 
quizzically at Justinia, clearly curious about the automaton hovering at her 
shoulder but not wanting to ask.
"This is Daimbert," said Elerius, "the wizard who invented the far-seeing 
telephone."
Daughter of Magic
175
His king looked momentarily interested but not very much so, and in a minute he 
wished us all a pleasant dinner and left.
Antonia, exhilarated and exhausted, fell asleep in the middle of the soup 
course. I cradled her on my lap, too relieved and too weary to feel much like 
eating myself, and wondering how one little girl could at the same time be so 
adorable and so exasperating.
"Lady Maria thought she was giving me a 'change' the other day by taking me to 
Caelrhon," said the Princess Margareta excitedly. "But how many times have I 
been to that city before, a thousand, a million? Where does she think I live? 
But this!" She giggled. "This really was a change! And now I know all about 
flying carpets, Justinia, just like you do."
"I hadn't realized you were teaching your niece magic, Wizard," said Gwennie. 
"Isn't it rather unusual for girls to learn magic?"
Elerius caught my eye, lifting one eyebrow but saying nothing.
I had telephoned Yurt as soon as we reached the castle. The queen had answered 
the phone herself, emerald eyes concerned. "Everyone's fine," I had said 
quickly. "No problems at all. You'll hear all about it when we're home. Anything 
happening there?"
But everything was quiet in Yurt. I called Evrard next, to reassure him as well. 
Theodora I would tell when I saw her. One more thing, I thought with a sigh, 
that I was keeping from her.
"When I take over Father's principality," said Hildegarde, "I think I'll get a 
flying carpet of my own. But will I need an eastern mage rather than a western 
wizard? Just think, Celia, if you don't go into the nunnery you can ride on my 
carpet whenever you come to visit, once you're a duchess."
Elerius was the perfect host, serving us himself.
176                        C. Dale Brittain
When I asked, in a low voice shielded by the general conversation, if he had 
taught Antonia to fly the carpet, he only smiled and said, "I have never taught 
anyone the spells for a flying carpet."
Gwennie looked more cheerful than she had in weeks. "I must say, Wizard," she 
said to me, "that I didn't think Antonia meant it when she said she could take 
us to see a dragon! We didn't actually see one," she added regretfully, "and 
considering that she didn't seem to be able to steer maybe it's just as well the 
wizard came along when he did, but it certainly made for a more interesting 
afternoon than putting away the laundry!"
Elerius's constable was able to find rooms for all of us in the castle, and in 
the morning we set out to return to Yurt. "Antonia," I told her firmly in my 
best wizardly voice, "I think it's time for you to go home. I've really enjoyed 
having you at the castle this week, but you took off without telling me where 
you were going. I'm afraid I just can't allow that."
"But I told you I was going!" she protested, giving me a sidelong look, as 
though knowing perfectly well she had been disobedient but confident she could 
still get out of it. I had sometimes felt that way myself.
Justinia directed her own magic carpet, her automaton riding with her, keeping 
its pace slow to match the air cart where the rest of us were crowded. Quite 
understandably, she insisted that the girl was not to ride on the carpet again.
"You said that your friends would like to see a dragon, Antonia," I said, not 
about to be won around, "but you didn't say anything about taking them there on 
a flying carpet, and you didn't even give me a chance to come along if I'd 
wanted."
The sky was overcast, and I hoped we would make it home before it rained. 
Antonia whirled from me to Hildegarde. "But I want to stay with herV
Dauchter of Macic                     177
Hildegarde shook her head. "I'm afraid Celia and I are going to be busy for a 
while. By now our parents will have heard that she wants to be a nun, and 
they're either furiously telephoning Yurt or else riding right down from 
Father's principality."
"Then I'll stay with your cried Antonia, turning to Gwennie.
I turned her around toward me again. "We'll drop everyone else off and go 
straight to Caelrhon," I said slowly and clearly.
Antonia frowned darkly for a moment, but tlien her expression cleared. "I can 
tell my friend Jen all about the castle. And I can see the Dog-Man again!"
It grew darker as the day moved on, and the air felt much too cold for this time 
of year. The air cart's pace slowed as its wings had to beat against a strong 
east wind. The women shivered, though I kept Antonia warm in my armsshe did a 
good job of keeping my chest warm too. But whatever storm was building did not 
yet break. We landed in the castle courtyard under a lowering sky, and everyone 
turned out to greet us. They were too pleased to see us all safe to start taking 
me apart at once, though I was discouraged to see the king showing more 
solicitude to Justinia than to Gwennie.
I paused only long enough to collect Antonia's things, then took off for the 
city, leaving the others to give the details of our adventure. The duchess had 
indeed telephoned, leaving a message that Celia was not to do anything until she 
arrived.
The sun never had shone through the clouds, and I wanted to get to Caelrhon 
before it really did begin to storm. Besides, the sooner I faced Theodora the 
better. Probably I should go around to the cathedral and apologize to Joachim 
too if he'd even agree to see me. He'd forgiven me for a lot of things in the 
past, although
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C. Dale Brittain
in this case I hadn't just insulted the bishop himself but someone under his 
direction.
Antonia was not reconciled to going home in disgraceshe kept hoping I would 
change my mind until we were actually in die airand hugged her Dolly rather 
than me as we flew along. "It's for your own good," I tried to reason with her. 
"Your mother said you should do what I said, and you didn't. Suppose Elerius 
hadn't been able to stop the carpet, and you'd ended up flying for days and days 
across the Outer Sea until you either fell off or died of hunger?"
"You never told me not to fly the carpet," she replied indignantly, her chin 
trembling only the slightest amount But she sprang from the air cart with a glad 
cry and threw herself into her mother's arms when I set the air cart down in the 
quiet cobbled street of the artisans' quarter of Caelrhon. And she agreed only 
slightly reluctantly to kiss me good-night once she had been fed and washed.
I told Theodora everything that had happened, sitting again on her couch with my 
arm arounof her, die room bathed in the glow of the magic lamp. The only part I 
didn't tell her was the bishop deciding that he had had lustful thoughts about 
her for years widiout realizing he did. It began at last to rain, a cold, fitful 
drizzle, and the wind howled in the chimney. At several points Theodora took a 
deep breath and started to lean forward, but she always settled back again 
against my arm without speaking. "Well," she said at last, her cheerful tone 
sounding almost normal, "it sounds as though Antonia's visit to Yurt was a 
little more exciting than I had expected. But everyone is fine now, and that's 
what's important. Shall I make us some tea?"
As we sipped our tea, its warmtii welcome this cold night, she suddenly said, 
"I'll have to try to find out what spells Elerius taught her."
Daughter of Magic                          179
"But he said" Then I realized Theodora was quite right. When I returned to Yurt 
two days ago, my rooms had been thick with magic. Elerius would not just have 
shown off for Antonia. He had decided to win her affection by teaching her 
spells.
"Were you learning magic when you were five?" Theodora asked, pouring more tea.
"I must have been twelve or so," I said slowly, remembering back. It had been 
years since I'd thought about this. "An old magician who sometimes worked the 
street corner for pennies showed me how to make an illusory gold coin in return 
for quite a pile of real copper coins. As I recall, I'd been saving them for 
months." I promptiy made Theodora an illusory gold coin of her own to show I 
hadn't lost die knack. "But remember that I grew up in die great City, nearly in 
sight of the wizards' school, where it perched on a pinnacle at the center of 
town. I'd always dreamed about learning magic, of being one of the very wise 
masters we would occasionally see, or even one of the student wizards who were 
always getting into trouble with the city Guardians after spending too long in 
the taverns. After my parents died and it was clear diat die choices were to 
help my grandmomer run our wool import house or else go up to the school and beg 
die Master to take me on, the decision wasn't difficult."
"And what would the Master say," asked Theodora, "if our daughter asked him to 
take her on?"
"Well, they've never had a woman diere. I've told you diey mention die 
possibility from time to time, but either no women have applied or else they 
haven't been the right ones."
"That is," said Theodora, mosdy to herself, "they haven't been women who are in 
fact men."
"That may change, though," I continued dioughtfully. "They've always thought 
extremely well of Elerius, and
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C. Dale Brittain
I know he's got plans of his own to start revitalizing the school once he has a 
position of power therewhich he's certain to have soon. Maybe he was teaching 
Antonia magic because he intends to have women in the school when he's in 
charge."
"Or maybe," said Theodora, giving me a quick look, "he's trying to get a hold 
over you through her. Didn't you just suggest something of the sort yourself?" 
The rain tapped against the dark panes, and somewhere down the street a dog 
howled mournfully. I wondered irrelevantly if it was the dog Cyras had brought 
back to life. "She is good, Daimbert. I've taught her a little of what you call 
my witch magic, and she learned it far faster than I ever did. If she starts on 
school magic too she'll soon be far ahead of me."
"If I came and stayed here more often I could give you private tutoring in 
school magic," I suggested with a smile.
"Maybe I've already learned just about all of your magic I particularly care to 
learn!" she replied saucily.
I pulled her to me, nuzzling her hair, but thinking about Elerius and Antonia. I 
could try to teach our daughter myself, but if she really had a flair for magic 
she deserved to be taught by a better wizard than I was. I had never trusted 
Elerius, but if he was planning to get women into the school he might be 
Antonias best chance for the education she deserved.
But then I chuckled. "Maybe we're getting ahead of ourselves here. She's only 
five."
"Yes," said Theodora. "A five-year-old girl who already knows enough magic to 
steal a flying carpet."
Ill
The clouds were even heavier the next morning although the rain had ceased. 
Theodora settled down
Daughter of Magic                       181
to her sewing almost on top of the magic lamp. "Couldn't you try some weather 
spells on this?" she asked. "Nobody's going to be able to see anything all day."
"Well, I don't like to affect the weather unless it's for something important 
like saving a crop," I started. "After all, the spells can have unexpected 
results"
But then I stopped. Suppose Cyrus was affecting the weather for his own 
purposes? I felt very reluctant to try to question him any more, especially 
since I was quite sure I would get no answers out of him, but the Romneys should 
be able to tell me if he had worked weather spells for them.
Antonia was still asleep, worn out from her adventures. I bent to kiss Theodora. 
"I'm heading back to Yurt."
She turned around to lass me properly. "I'm very glad Antonia visited you. We'll 
have to do this again." No mention of missing me but I would take what I could 
get. I thought as I went down the street that allowing oneself to love someone 
always gave that person the power, intentional or unintentional, to inflict 
pain. Maybe the wizards in renouncing marriage wanted to avoid any pain that 
would distract them from their spells.
But if so it was much too late for me. I stopped by the cathedral office and 
left a note for Joachim. An acolyte told me rather loftily that the bishop was 
much too busy to see me without an appointment, but I didn't know if that meant 
that he had left orders to keep all wizards away or if he really was very busyI 
tried to reassure myself that most of the times I had seen him the last five 
years had been in brief interludes he could snatch from his duties.
The Romney circle of caravans was still at the edge of town, smoke rising from 
their chimneys, but on this cold, raw day no one was outside, and the ponies 
looked at me disconsolately. I thought I saw a brown rat
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disappear into the grass ahead of me. But the bright blue door of one of the 
caravans swung open as I approached, and the Romney woman I had first spoken to 
a week before called to me.
"Come to have your fortune told?"
I laughed and mounted the wooden steps. "Wizards can manage much better fortunes 
than I expect you can." I'd never get the Romney children by themselves today. 
"Isn't this terrible weather!" She stepped back as I ducked my head to enter.
Inside her caravan was smoky from the stove but laid out very compactly and 
neatly, with copper pans gleaming on the wall and all the cupboards painted blue 
like the door.
"Not like summer at all," the woman agreed, giving me a gold-toothed smile. "At 
this rate well have frost! We haven't seen weather like this since we left the 
Eastern Kingdoms this spring."
"Did Cyrus help you with weather spells as you came over the mountains?" I asked 
casually.
Her expression changed at once and so did her tone, from friendliness to the 
resonant and artificial note of someone telling a mysterious fortune in which 
she herself did not believe. "I will look into the future for you, Wizard," she 
said, "and see shadowed doings beyond even the knowledge of the wise, but you 
wul have to pay me first."
Puzzled, I readied into my pocket and pulled out some coins, substantially more 
than what I had paid the old magician to teach me my first illusion when I was 
twelve. Had Cyrus ordered her not to tell me anything about him, even threatened 
her with his dark magic if he did?
She dropped my money into her own pocket without counting it, then opened a 
cupboard to take out a crystal ball. In sunlight a crystal will make rainbows 
and weird
Daughter of Magic                     183
reflections of everything around, but today it showed only dark blues and grays, 
with at the center a flash of light from the fire in the stove. She put the ball 
on the little table in the center of the caravan, and I obediently sat down 
across from her.
She stared into the crystal for a moment, playing with the long whisker on her 
upper Up, while I wondered if she was going to try to impart actual information 
through an alleged fortune or was just doing something that would plausibly 
explain my presence and also get rid of me.
The caravan was silent except for the crackling of the fire. The smoke in the 
room seemed to become denser. At last she spoke, so suddenly and loudly that I 
jumped. "Someone is coming. Someone from far away. Someone who travels by 
night."
She spoke with such conviction that I stared into the crystal myself, seeing 
nothing. Irrational fear made the cold day even colder. "Is this anyone I know?" 
I asked after a minute when she seemed reluctant to add anything more. "Will he 
be here soon?"
"He comes slowly, and he comes by night," she said again. Abruptly she rose and 
put the crystal ball back into die cupboard. "And that," she said loudly, a 
poorly concealed nervous tremor in her voice, "is all die fortune you will have 
from me."
She swung open the caravan door in case her point wasn't clear enough. I thanked 
her and left, glad to breathe fresh air again, even if damp and cold, after the 
smoky atmosphere of the caravan. As I retrieved the air cart I wondered if this 
was recent information the Romneys had acquired, or if they had heard while 
still in the Eastern Kingdoms of someone heading this way. The Romney children 
had told me Cyrus had asked them about Yurt; had someone else in the East also 
inquired about us?
As the air cart flew slowly against a dank wind I
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thought about the princely wizard Vlad and his obsidian casde, guarded by 
wolves. Once I had been reassured diat Cyrus was not Vlad in disguise, I had 
tried to dismiss fears of the dark wizard I had made my enemy many years ago. 
But suppose Cyrus had been sent as Vlad's agent, to find me, even to kill me? 
Cyrus however had shown no sign of wanting to kill me on the two occasions when 
I met him.
But somebody had sent unliving warriors to attack Yurt, warriors diat had 
dissolved in daylight although a spell had lingered in their bones, a spell to 
drive men and womenmad. And Vlad's black casde in die East lay under a 
permanent bank of clouds, to make even day as dark as night Sunlight was the one 
thing he could not bear, even with all his powers.
I leaned back against die edge of the air cart and shouted the heavy words of 
the Hidden Language at die black clouds overhead. If Vlad was trying to make die 
twin kingdoms of Yurt and Caelrhon as dark as his own principality, he would not 
succeed.
The wind swirled stronger, and a small scudding cloud dumped hail on my head. 
But then die sky split open, and the sun's rays shone placidly down. The thick 
clouds started to swing togedier again, regrouping, but I replied widi more 
shouted spells, and diey scattered, dissolving as they slid away over die 
horizon.
There, I thought, looking down at die fields below washed widi light. That was 
better. The air was becoming warmer by die moment. If Vlad came to Yurt after 
me, we would meet on my terms.
The air cart flew faster now widi die wind no longer against us. The sun beat 
down on my hair. Now diat summer weather had returned, it was easy to think of 
die cold and die clouds as sometiiing trivial. I smiled, recalling how quick I 
had been to assume diat some enemy would attack die casde as soon as I took off
Daughter of Magic
185
after Antonia. In fact, there had been no problems at all since I overcame the 
undead warriors, other dian tiiose direcdy due to Antonia s high spirits.
As the air cart and I flew on I tried to plan my next move. The Romney woman had 
certainly wanted to warn me against somebody, and diere might be other spells I 
could try in order to detect a distant, evil presence. Certainly I could 
telephone some of die odier wizards stationed closer to die Eastern Kingdoms to 
see if diey had heard of someone who came by night.
We came over the forests and fields diat surrounded the whitewashed royal casde 
of Yurt. Looking ahead, I saw that die drawbridge was up, which seemed overly 
cautious for daytime.
But dien I saw die wolf.
It was a fenris-wolf, huge and white, as tall at die shoulder as a man. The only 
shading on its coat was a ruff of black guard hairs around die neck. Long yellow 
teetii protruded from die jaws, and its eyes were a light china blue. It paced 
before the moat, ears forward, growling low and steady. I had seen a wolf like 
diis in die Eastern Kingdoms, in fact outside of Vlad's obsidian casde, but this 
was no time for reminiscences.
I dropped the air cart fast into die middle of the casde courtyard. The knights, 
heavily armed, stood along die battlements, watching. The wolf stared back at 
them, sunlight flashing like fire from its pale eyes.
King Paul came up to me, looking very serious, though an expression lurked at 
the corner of his moudi diat suggested he was enjoying this. "Has anyone been 
hurt, sire?" I asked urgentiy. "Where did the wolf come from?"
"No one's hurt. The saints only know where it came from, tiiough it must be 
anotiier attack on the Lady Justinia. It first appeared when I was out riding 
about
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C. Dale Brittain
an hour ago. The sky was so dark it could have been evening, and it was getting 
darker and colder by the minute, so I had just turned Bonfire back to the castle 
when I heard a howl."
Down below the walls the wolf howled, and inside the stables Justinia's elephant 
trumpeted wildly.
"Like that," said Paul. "Bonfire was spooked, of course, and in the darkness I 
couldn't even tell where it was." It sounded to me as if he had come extremely 
close to being killed, but he seemed almost cheerful about it. "But then the sun 
broke through the clouds, and I saw that beast looking at me. It didn't take 
much persuading to get Bonfire to run! What's most impressive is that the wolf 
wasalmostable to keep up. But I was fifty yards ahead when I reached the moat, 
and they'd seen me coming and were cranking up the drawbridge even before I was 
off it."
It looked as though I had saved my king's life with my weather spells. I took a 
deep breath and let it out again. "We should be safe then. It won't be able to 
get over the walls unless it can fly."
"That's all very well for us," said Paul, no longer sounding as though he was 
enjoying this. "But there are no stone walls around the village. If it gets 
bored here it can trot down and have its pick of the villagers' herdsor of 
them." "Has anyone tried shooting it?" "We did. But it seems to be able to dodge 
arrows easily." I had been probing the wolf as we spoke. It was a real wolf all 
right, but with a faint magical aura about it. Bigger and stronger than a normal 
wolf, it also appeared to have faster reflexesand doubtless stronger jaws. I 
could try transforming it into something innocuous, but if it was a creature 
from the land of wild magic the spell would blow up in my face.
"Now that you're here," said Paul, "we'll try a sortie
Daughter of Magic                          187
against it. If you could put a binding spell on it we should be able to capture 
or kill it. But we'd better move fast in case those clouds come backor before 
it really becomes night."
"Not you, sire," I said. "I'd certainly like a few sword arms at my back, but 
not yours. As your mother keeps on telling you, you don't have an heir. If you 
get yourself killed by a wolf, who's going to be king? You don't want Yurt run 
by some fourth cousin from somewhere who doesn't even worry about his 
villagers."
Paul frowned, but I wasn't going to wait for an argument. I might be pledged to 
his service, but a wizard could never be expected to obey with absolute, 
unquestioning loyalty. Our highest oaths were not to our kings. "Let's get a few 
people down to the postern gate," I called to the other knights. Hildegarde was 
among them and turned eagerly at my voice, but I ignored her. "You, you, you! 
I'll distract the wolf on this side of the castle while you get out the back."
"Wizard," Paul began ominously, but then he stopped without countermanding my 
order. The three knights, delighted to be chosen, ran to let themselves out the 
small postern gate and to cross the moat on stepping stones while I flew over 
the wall to meet the wolf.
I needn't have worried about keeping its attention while the knights came 
around. It sprang at me with a howl, and only by rapid midair backing was I able 
to avoid getting my throat ripped out.
"That's right," I told myself, hovering twenty feet above it. The red gullet and 
teeth were improved by distance, but not by much. "Remember that it has fast 
reflexes. And can jump." I lifted to thirty feet.
I started on a paralysis spell, something to freeze it in place. From the corner 
of my eye I spotted the knights coming around the corner of the castle, spears 
at the ready.
188                              C. Dale Brittain
The wolf plunged through my paralysis spell as though it wasn't there and tore 
toward the knights. Flying madly behind, I tried a quick and dirty binding spell 
with no better result. This wolf had been sent here with counterspells all ready 
to foil a wizard.
The startled knights had their shields up and spears braced for the onslaught. 
Abandoning my binding spell, I turned the air to glass in front of die wolf.
It bounced back with a snarl of pain and rage. So you weren't quite ready for 
that spell? I diought in grim triumph.
But already it had sprung up and around die solid air, again toward die knights 
of Yurt. They might not be die king, but I couldn't let diem get killed either. 
Easily dodging die spears widi which diey tried to impale it, the wolf knocked 
die first one down and went for his diroat.
I yelled behind it, trying to remind it diat it had been sent to kul a wizard. 
It whirled away from die fallen knight and at me, a mass of furious teeth and 
fur. I snatched up die spear die knight had dropped and flew rapidly backwards.
The wolf ran right along with me. This was a beast, I reminded myself, able to 
match paces widi the fastest stallion in a dozen kingdoms. Taking long bounds, 
it snarled again, baring vicious yellow teedi. I tried to fly faster, but it 
still had no trouble keeping up.
Once all die way around die casde. I was almost back to die knights. Should I go 
around again and try to tire it out? I could hear faint distant cheers froni die 
battlements. But diis wolf might not tire in twenty circuits of the casde, while 
I myself would long before dien. This was no spectacle or race where the 
vie'wers cheered for meor die wolf? I stopped fleeing and stood my ground.
One last bound and it was on me, trying to evade
Daughter of Magic                          189
die spearpoint and going for my face. The two quick words of the Hidden Language 
that should have knocked it backwards had no effect, and it was a struggle to 
keep clear in my mind die words to speed my own movements. Whoever had sent diis 
wolf had spelled it against western school magic.
My magically aided reflexes were nearly as fast as die wolfs, but it was 
appreciably heavier. It ran straight up die spear, not even seeming to feel die 
point driving into its chest, and knocked me flat. Protection spells seemed to 
have no effect. Dropping die spear I threw botii arms across my face and diroat, 
feeling die wolfs hot breadi and die slash of fangs cutting into my flesh. For a 
second diere was no pain at all, dien die wounds began burning like fire.
What an ignominious way for a wizard to go, I diought, feeling a rush of hot 
blood pouring past my ears. An enormous weight landed on my chest, and as 
consciousness left me I realized diat I could no longer hear die wolfs growls. 
Maybe I'd killed it after all. My last diought was diat at least now I might 
deserve die Golden Yurt.
IV
I did not get better.
I regained consciousness while being carried into die casde, just enough to 
realize that die wolf was dead. In die evening, after die village doctor had 
salved and bound up die slashes on my forearms, the king came and sat beside me 
on die bed, long booted legs stretched out before him. He told me how die 
knights had struck die wolf from behind widi sword and spear while it was trying 
to kill me; die blood I had diought came from my own diroat was in fact die 
beast's.
"Damnation, Wizard," finished Paul, sounding relieved
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C. Dale Brittain
and irritated at the same time, "aren't you ever going to let me do anything?"
Groggy but comfortable, I fell asleep, resigned to general stiffness for a few 
days and bandages for a little while longer. I had really worn myself out the 
last week or two, I thought, and being heroically wounded was a good excuse to 
catch up on my rest.
But in the morning the fire was back in the wounds and my head ached so badly I 
could barely think. The doctor, returning, pronounced that there might be "some 
infection." When I tried to explain to him in a voice that didn't sound anything 
like my own that there was a certain blue-flowered plant he had to find, one 
good for healing infection through herbal magic, he shook his head, told me to 
try to stay calm, and went to talk to Gwennie at the doorway without even 
listening to the plant's description.
All that day I kept sliding in and out of evil dreams in which the wolf leaped 
at me again and again, causing me to jerk convulsively, throwing off the 
blankets and almost falling out of bed. Behind the wolf I could now clearly see 
Vlad's face, dead white and with eyes of stone.
"The Romney woman told me he's coming," I told Gwennie when she put cool cloths 
on my brow. "You have to keep watch for him. Tell the wizards' school he's 
coming."
"Of course we'll tell them," she said in the voice of someone humoring a child.
"And stop putting cold water on me," I said irritably, stirring a bandaged arm 
enough to throw the cloth away. It felt like the scab had ripped free under the 
bandage. Just as well. I didn't trust the doctor and whatever he had been 
putting on me, and I would tell him so. "This room is freezing already!"
"This room is very warm," said Gwennie. "But you have a fever."
Daughter of Magic
191
Unconsciousness washed over me again. When I again felt cold water dripping into 
my earsmaybe later that day, maybe the next dayI tried to tell Gwennie that 
Vlad and the doctor had conspired to kill me. But it wasn't Gwennie bending over 
me. This time it was Celia.
Nuns, I thought vaguely, nursed the dying. If I died from my wounds, would that 
count as having been killed by the wolf? But there was something wrong with 
Celia being at my bedside in Yurt.
"You're not here," I told her. "You're a nun."
"Not according to my mother and father," she said with a sad smile. "Do you feel 
any better?"
"No." And I passed out again.
Later I was never sure how long I wandered drrough fever and nightmare. I 
couldn't keep my eyes open, but when I closed them demons leered at me while my 
body, especially the arms, seemed to grow distorted and enormous. Elerius kept 
slipping through my dreams, always one step ahead of me, looking back from under 
his peaked eyebrows and giving an ironic smile. Various people nursed me and 
tried to feed me soup as I slumped, only slightly conscious. At one point I 
became convinced that Theodora sat beside me, holding my hand, but when at last 
I was able to open my eyes all my fist clutched was the edge of the pillow.
"I'm sorry," I came to myself to hear my own voice mumbling. "Won't you forgive 
me? I thought priests were supposed to forgive people. I just wanted 
information, and I know he's evil. You can tell because he tried to kill me."
Whom was I addressing? It sounded as though I thought I was talking to the 
bishop. I got my eyes open and saw not Joachim but a man over seven feet tall, 
whose blond beard was streaked with white.
"Good," I told him confidently. I knew who this was. No more nightmare illusions 
for me, I thought with
192                              C. Dale Brittain
assurance. "You can go hunt the wolf." It was Prince Ascehn, Hildegarde and 
Celia's father and a noted hunter. He bent over the bed, paying more attention 
to what I was saying than anyone else seemed to have lately, his blue eyes dark 
with concern. "The wolf poisoned me when it tried to bite me, but if you kill it 
I'll recover. Just don't let the doctor in. He doesn't know anything about 
infection."
I sank back beneath the surface of consciousness, but not as far or as long this 
time. They seemed to be doing something with my arms. Probably cutting them off, 
I concluded. The wounds must have become so infected that the doctor had decided 
to amputate before gangrene spread to the rest of my body. Little did anyone 
realize that this was all part of Vlad's plot against me.
Well, I wasn't going to let them do it. With a roar of anger, I forced myself to 
sit up and awake, jerking my arms back.
But it wasn't the doctor who had taken hold of me. It was Prince Ascehn, and, 
this time, truly and not in a dream, Theodora.
"That sounded like a fairly healthy yell," said Ascehn. "And it looks as if the 
wounds are healing at last."
"His forehead doesn't feel as feverish," said Theodora, putting a cool palm 
against my head.
"Don't talk about me as though I'm not there," I said pettishly. "Who said you 
could cut off my arms?"
"I already tried to tell you," said Ascehn patiently. "I have no intention of 
cutting off your arms. But nothing the doctor had seemed to be working, so I've 
been attempting a little of your own herbal magic. Don't you remember that 
blue-flowered plant you found on our trip to the East? It's hard to find around 
here, let me tell you, and I don't think it works as well without a wizard to 
mumble magic words over it, but I think it's drawing the infection out at last."
Daughter of Magic                          193
"I tried to tell the doctor," I said, sinking back against the pillows, "but he 
wouldn't listen."
"Either that," said Ascehn with a quick smile, "or you weren't making a lot of 
sense. You haven't the last few weeks, you realize."
"Few weeks?"
Theodora pushed me back into bed again with a hand on my shoulder. "Lie still 
and I'll try you on the soup."
I let her spoon chicken soup into my mouth, trying to sort out what was reality 
and what nightmare. My head felt strangely light, which I decided was the 
absence of headache. The wolf, it seemed quite clear, really was dead, and 
Ascehn and Theodora assured me that nothing else had attacked the castle.
"I tried to get some help in herbal magic from the wizard of Caelrhon," said 
Ascehn, "but he told me nobody teaches it at your school anymore." He was right 
I only knew what I did from my long-dead predecessor's rather grudging lessons. 
"So let's hope I remembered that plant correctly!"
Something else was nagging at me. I identified it at last. "What are you doing 
here?" I asked Theodora, swallowing soup. "And where's Antonia?"
"She's staying with her friend Jen. And I'm here because your queen sent me for 
me whenwhen she thought you were dying."
"Was I?" I asked, interested. "Am I still?"
"Considering that this is the first time you've been coherent in a very long 
time," said Ascehn with his quick smile, "I trust you aren't." After a moment he 
added soberly, "But the bishop came last week and gave you the last rites."
So I hadn't entirely imagined Joachim being here. I wondered if he'd actually 
heard anything I tried to say to him. And if he'd forgiven me, would I stay 
forgiven even if I didn't stay dead? "But Celia should have given
194                        C. Dale Brittaln
me last rites," I said, remembering my daughter's plan to give everyone a chance 
to do what they most wanted.
A shadow passed across Ascelin's face at his own daughter's name. "She nursed 
you as assiduously as anyone, but" He stood up abruptly. "You need to sleep. 
Come on," to Theodora. "We can talk to him more in the morning."
That night I slept deeply, without the nightmare of fever chasing me, and when I 
awoke toward dawn I almost felt like myself, though very weak. I took a quick 
glance at my armsstill thereand then looked across tibe room to see Theodora 
dozing in a chair.
She awoke when I stirred and came to sit beside me. Her amethyst eyes were 
gende. I took her hand, an action which seemed to require an enormous amount of 
effort. "I'm so glad you're here," I whispered. "But how did you know?"
"I told you," she said gendy and bent to brush her lips across my forehead. 
"Your queen sent for me. She knows about you and me."
"It's a secret," I said, trying to open my eyes enough to look at her properly. 
"Nobody else knows."
Theodora shook her head slowly and kissed me again. "I drink just about everyone 
in die casde has worked it out. After all, when a mysterious woman is sent for 
as a wizard lies dying, and everyone recalls tiiat he very recendy produced a 
'niece' no one knew he had, one who seems remarkably adept at magic for a little 
girl, a secret is hidden no longer."
"I'm sorry, Theodora," I murmured. So much for the privacy she had worked so 
hard to maintain! "I didn't want to have diem all get to know you drinking of 
you as some"
"As some fallen woman?" she said widi a smile tugging die corners of her mouth. 
"Since tiiey do, at least nobody has questioned whedier it's suitable for me to 
spend
Daughter of Magic                     195
the night watching you alone in your chambers."
"What does King Paul think about it?" I asked as tiiough casually. Inwardly I 
was thinking gleefully tiiat now Theodora would have to marry me. It would be 
the only way to restore her reputation, and although diis wasn't die best way to 
have told Paul about her, now tiiat die secret was out he would have to agree 
tiiat I could stay on as Royal Wizard once we were married. This should take 
care of Theodora's final objections.
But from her reply she hadn't looked at it quite the same way. "I'm not sure 
what your king thinks about me," she said slowly. "He has gone out of his way to 
talk to me, almost as tiiough wanting to demonstrate that he is not passing 
judgment on a fallen woman. In the same way, he has been struggling to act as 
though he considers you no differently than he ever didwhich suggests of course 
tiiat at some level he must be." Theodora, I thought, had always had a quick 
insight into other people's thoughtsdue to being a witch, or maybe only to 
being herself.
"King Paul has been extremely concerned about you, of course," she continued, 
"and has been at some pains to tell me all the wonderful things you've done for 
the kingdom over die years, going back to when his father was still alive. He's 
even grateful for the times you've kept Yurt's knightsand himfrom fighting as 
tiiey were trained to do! It was touching, Daimbert: as though he hoped tiiat by 
talking about you he could keep you alive. Since I don't live here in Yurt, 
maybe he thought I was die best person to tell, die one least likely to know all 
die stories already. And I must say some of die events sounded better in his 
telling than when you've told me about them!" She squeezed my hand. "He was very 
happy last night to hear tiiat you were improvednearly as glad as I."
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C. Dale Brittain
I blinked against the early light coming through the window. Maybe I would try 
tea and cinnamon crullers this morning, I thoughtmy mouth tasted like old 
chicken soup. Well, even if Theodora and Paul hadn't realized yet that she would 
have to marry me and come live in Yurt, they would soon.
"The chaplain is planning a thanksgiving service for when you're a little 
better."
"I don't want the chaplain to have anything to do with it," I said peevishly. "I 
want the bishop."
Theodora smiled. "I'm sure he'll be offering his own thanks to God in Caelrhon. 
You don't want to act as though you thought only one priest had access to God 
and His saints!" Actually that was exacdy what I thought, but I kept quiet. "I 
know he's been your friend for years, Daimbert," she continued, "but he's even 
busier than usual with his duties this summer." It sounded then as if Joachim 
had given up his plans to resign, I was pleased to hear. "Especially with the 
rats in the cathedral"
"What rats?"
I had been lying comfortably, holding Theodora's hand, but now I tried to sit up 
with a great deal of thrashing.
She pushed me down again easily. "It's just that the river rats seem to be 
fairly numerous this summer," she said in a casual voice that immediately made 
me suspect this was much more serious than she wanted me to think. "They've 
always lived along the docks, but now they're getting into houses and a whole 
swarm seem to have settled in the cathedral. An acolyte even found one chewing 
on the altar cloth! So you can understand why the bishop is concerned."
"It's Cyrus," I said darkly. "He summoned the rats."
"The Dog-Man?" said Theodora in surprise. "After his prayers restored the burned 
buildings, I doubt if anyone in Caelrhon would suspect him of such a thing.
Daughter of Macic                     197
There are some who have blamed the Romneys But I'm sure everyone realizes it's 
just a result of higher water along the river this year," she finished briskly.
"It's Cyrus all right," I repeated obstinately. "But the bishop won't believe 
any evil of him, and neither will Celia. Maybe if I tell her that he's behind 
the rats she'll give up this notion of being a nun. She never wanted to be one 
anyway."
Theodora looked somewhat pained. "I think Celia is taking this hard," she said 
quiedy. She tried then to smile and added, "It feels so strange to be meeting 
all these people properly at last. You've told me about them, of course, and 
some of them I saw at King Paul's coronation, but the twins were just overgrown 
girls then, not young women."
But I wasn't going to let her change the subject. "What is Celia taking hard? 
The rats?"
Theodora shook her head fractionally, looking somewhere over my head. "Finding 
out that Antonia is your daughter. I diink she'd gotten the notion that wizards 
should be as pure as priests. And she had trusted you, Daimbert, witii her 
religious vocation. . . . She won't speak to me at all, tfiough her sister does 
all the time, as though to make up for it. Hildegarde told me she's afraid that 
Celia is talking herself into really wanting to be a nun, in part to avoid 
having any more unpleasant discoveries in die secular world."
Feeling irritable because I was so weak, I said, 'Then if she can't handle a 
glimpse of a little sinand six years ago at that, I hope you told her!tfien 
it's a good thing she won't be a priest. See if die cook made any crullers diis 
morning."
As I ate my breakfast, deciding that I would have improved much faster if diey 
had spooned tea into my moutii tiiese last few weeks along with the chicken 
soup, I had the vague feeling diat I had discovered something
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important shortly before the wolf attacked me. And something Theodora had told 
me about our daughter was worrisome. I wondered what it was.
V
I was able to recall enough herbal magic to assist the natural properties of 
Ascelin's healing herbs, and within a few days fresh, pink skin was growing on 
my arms where the wolf had bitten. The Lady Justinia, to my relief, showed no 
sign of trying to win my love by assisting in nursing me. The bishop telephoned 
from the cathedral office to tell me how grateful he was that I was alive, his 
voice and face giving no hint that he had ever been angry with me. He said 
nothing about Cyrus, and I decided it was most diplomatic not to ask.
Hildegarde came to my chambers to talk to me. I was out of bed now and spent 
part of each day sitting by the window, enjoying the warm air and leafing 
through my predecessor's books. Since I seemed to owe my life to the old magic, 
I thought I ought to learn a little more. It was startling to find in the 
margins in several places annotations in Elerius s small, neat hand.
"It looks to me, Wizard," said Hildegarde, "as though you and die knights 
overcame that wolf through raw strength, not wizardry."
"Not quite," I said slowly. A lot that had happened in the days before the 
incident was still confused in my mind, but my memories of die wolf were crystal 
clear. "He was bigger and faster and stronger than any ordinary wolf, and that 
was wizardry." Cyrus's magic, I thought. Or someone else's? This was one of the 
points on which I was still unclear. "Widiout my own magic, I don't think the 
knights would have had a chance."
"Well, it died just like any beast once they got their swords into it," said 
Hildegarde. "And that's what I
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wanted to ask you. Why didn't you take more knights with you?"
"Including you?" I asked good-naturedly. "I took enough to overcome die wolf, I 
hopedand it turned out I was rightbut no more, because one deadi diis summer, 
the night watchman's, was already too many."
"But you might have been killed yourself," she said accusingly. "Why should you 
be able to face death but no one else?"
"Do you think it's actually good to be killed?" I asked, startled. "Has it been 
so long since knights in the western kingdoms were involved in wars that 
horrible pain and raw terror are actually appealing?"
"Well, maybe not," she said reluctandy. "But it is what knights are trained to 
face. I think I could be brave in the face of mortal danger. But now you wizards 
have taken all the danger for yourselves."
"Of course. That's because we're pledged to serve humanity."
"All right, then, Wizard," she said, as though she had been carefully 
constructing an argument and I had just conceded a key point, "are you going to 
let your daughter face death to save the fives of some knights?"
"Antonia?" I was horrified. "Certainly not!"
"Then what are you doing," she continued, bending closer, "teaching her magic?"
That was a very good question. But I didn't have time to consider it. The point 
that had been nagging me for several days came to me at last. Antonia was 
staying with her friend Jen while Theodora was here in Yurt. And Jen's mother 
let her play with the Dog-Man.
"Antonia is a delightful litde girl," said Hildegarde conversationally. "Celia 
is just being silly. Because you're good friends with the bishop, she had 
somehow convinced herself that you should be almost a priest yourself. I know 
she won't be happy as a nunshe's
200                           C. Dale BriUain
got the same desire for action as I do. Saying she wanted to be the West's first 
woman priest was bad enough, but to go into the cloister! She's overreacting, of 
course, but it will be hard for Mother to stop her from entering the nunnery, 
because we will after all be of age this month."
I was no longer listening, but Hildegarde didn't seem to notice. Theodora is a 
charming womanintelligent, too, in spite of being unaccountably willing to be 
involved with you. Why don't you just marry her, Wizard?"
"Did Celia tell the Dog-Man tliat Antonia is my daughter?" I interrupted, 
heaving up out of the chair and seizing Hildegarde by the arms. Several times 
during her visit Antonia had hinted that she had met him earlier, in spite of 
Theodora's attempts to keep her away.
Hildegarde eased out of my grip, looking puzzled. "Celia hasn't told Cyrus 
anything. Don't you remember? My parents have forbidden her all contact with 
him, convinced that he's the one who made her decide to be a nun."
If someone had told me this, it must have been while I was delirious. I settled 
back slowly into my chair. But if Antonia went and played with Cyrus, maybe 
asking him to repair a broken toyor, even worse, to take her to see a 
dragonthat strange, sharp-featured man would learn soon enough that she was my 
daughter. And what better way to get at me, now that his warriors of bone and 
hair and his fenris-wolf had failed, than through Antonia?
"Quick!" I cried. "Find Theodora and bring her here!"
"Well," said Hildegarde, bemused, "you mean my little suggestion has made you 
abruptly decide to propose marriage at last?"
"No! I mean, of course I want to marry her, but she won't marry me. She has to 
get back to Caelrhon right away."
Dauchter of Magic                     201
"I'm not sure it's a good plan either," commented Hildegarde, "to send her away 
just because she has too much sense to want to tie herself to a wizard. She did 
take very good care of you while you were sick. I would never fall in love with 
a crotchety old wizard myself, but she gives every sign of it."
"Just get her!" Hildegarde shook her head with a grin and went. I pushed myself 
out of the chair to find my shoes. I should be able to fly the air cart, even in 
my weakened condition, and it would get Theodora home faster than a horse. I 
hated for her to go, leaving everything between us more unresolved than ever, 
but we had to make sure Antonia did not come into further contact with Cyrus.
Now that he had been accepted into the seminary, rather than living on the 
docks, he might have no more time to play with the children, I tried to reassure 
myself as I tied my shoes. I even took die time to wonder if I really had become 
a crotchety old wizard. Maybe I should have told Hildegarde that Justinia, for 
one, thought my face and figure youthful and my power highly attractive.
Antonia skipped down the street to meet us, braids bouncing on her back. "Guess 
what!" she called. "Jen and I caught a baby rat and we're going to raise him and 
teach him tricks. We'll make him a little house to live in and keep him in our 
bedroom at night. We named him Cyrus."
Theodora caught the girl up and hugged her hard. "I'm afraid a rat won't make a 
very good pet," she said then. "Does Jen's mother know about this?"
"Well, if Jen's mother won't let us have die rat at her house," said Antonia 
slowly, as though the girls had already thought this through, "can we have him 
in our house?"
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A rat named Cyrus? I thought. It seemed a good choice.
Antonia hugged me too. "I'm getting a new tooth," she told me proudly. "Are you 
all better? Mother said you were sick. The bishop took me to church with him one 
day and we prayed for you. Did I make you better?"
"You might have," I said, smiling just from the pleasure of seeing her.
Antonia paused in skipping down the street to look back. "I asked the bishop if 
he had any litde girls or boys of his own," she informed us, "and do you know 
what he said? He said he was the father of everybody in Yurt and Caelrhon, 
including the grown-ups. Doesn't that sound strange? Is he really?"
We went to see Jen and her mother and to get Theodora's things. The two women 
presented a united front against the concept of a rat as a pet.
"So have you come back for the ceremony?" Jen's mother asked. "You mean you 
didn't hear? Cyrus is going to receive the key to the city. They're holding the 
ceremony at the covered market this evening."
"Is that the Dog-Man?" asked Jen.
"That's right," said her mother. "The same man who fixed your doll this spring." 
It chilled me to hear her speak so matter-of-factly about a supernatural event.
"7 knew that," said Antonia. "That's why I wanted to name our rat for him."
It didn't sound then as though the girls had seen him recendy That was a relief. 
I wondered if receiving the key to the city was like getting the Golden Yurt. 
"I'd better go to this ceremony," I told Theodora as we walked back to her 
house. "I want to see what's been happening here."
The Lady Maria had returned to the city from Yurt last week, once again bringing 
the Princess Margareta with her. I wasn't sure of the details, but my guess was
Daughter of Magic                          203
that the royal court of Caelrhon had decided that the chance that Paul would 
marry some foreign lady was preferable to the chance that their crown princess 
would be eaten by a wolf. I met the two at the casde and we went together to the 
covered market, me leaning on my old predecessor's staff. On the way, I saw a 
woman chasing three rats out her front door with a broom, using words that I 
hadn't even realized respectable Caelrhon housewives knew.
"Cyrus is so spiritual!" Maria told me enthusiastically. "Even though he worked 
such a striking miracle, it hasn't made him at all puffed up and proud. When all 
of us come to revere and honor him each day, he just sits quiedy or else speaks 
of God and the Last Judgment." Princess Margareta looked bored, trailing along 
behind.
The streets around the covered market were packed. Townspeople in their finery 
moved through the warm evening air and between the pillars into the market, 
where clear-burning torches provided the light. Straw and bits of fallen 
vegetable lay underfoot. Something seemed unusual about the crowd, but I could 
not immediately place it. I managed to find a place at the back to lean against 
the wall, supporting myself on the silver-topped staff. The crowd spoke in quiet 
voices, but their words still bounced, magnified and jumbled, from the ceiling.
"I have to tell you, Wizard," said the Lady Maria with a coy smile, speaking low 
so that Margareta could not hear us over the general din, "that I was the 
tiniest bit shocked when I learned you had had a daughter out of wedlock!" Her 
wide blue eyes glinted at me in the dimness. "That really was naughty of you, 
especially to take advantage of such a nice young lady. I've kept it from littie 
Margareta because I think she may be a bit too young to understand. Now, I've 
seen and heard enough in my day diat very little shocks me, but you
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know sometimes one imagines one knows someone very well, yet they still have 
secrets! That's why Cyrus is so remarkable. I think he understands everything."
I rather hoped Cyrus didn't understand me. I saw him now, dressed all in black, 
his face sober and intent. He did not spot us in the crowd. But I felt a sudden 
chill on the back of my neck, as though a breeze were stirring on this still 
evening. "You haven't told him about Antonia, have you?"
"7 don't tell secrets," said Maria placidly. "I may have hinted that there was a 
certain wizard, not very far away, with sins that even a holy man might find 
hard to forgive, but as you can imagine I said nothing else!"
Before I had a chance to ask more, the mayor stepped up to a rostrum, flanked by 
candles, which had been erected at the far end of the market. He had been mayor 
for years, a solidly built and honest man who always sought a way to keep his 
city's life and commerce functioning separate from the cathedral, although 
literally in the cathedral's shadow, and with the goodwill or at least tolerance 
of the priests. The fight glittered on his chains of office. He waited a minute 
until conversation died down, then began, simply and informally.
"I don't think I need to remind all of you what we owe to Cyrus," he said. With 
wizardry I could hear him clearly, but the Lady Maria beside me strained to 
listen. Margareta, examining the cracked finish on one nail, seemed to be 
suggesting rather pointedly that she would rather be Somewhere else. I thought I 
could detect a faint nervous tone in the mayor's voice, which seemed rather 
surprising in someone who must have to give hundreds of public speeches.
"Cyrus has proven himself a true friend of the city of Caelrhon," he continued. 
"We could make him a citizen, for all he's foreign-born, but many men are born 
or made citizens. So the council has decided to offer
Daughter of Magic                       205
him something we haven't offered anyone in years not even our own king!"
There was an appreciative chuckle from the crowd. King Lucas of Caelrhon had 
been known to grumble when visiting us in Yurt that the city seemed remarkably 
adept at evading his tolls and taxes, and apparently it looked much more amusing 
from their side than his.
"Cyrus, we want to give you the key to our city."
Cyrus stepped forward then, a gratified look in the angle of his shoulders even 
though he did not smile. A gust of wind stirred the candles at the rostrum, and 
the torches flared. This was it? I asked myself as the mayor handed him an 
enormous ceremonial key, glittering with rhinestones. This was worth someone 
selling his soul to the devil, so he could have the mayor of a small city make 
him a presentation?
With my magically enhanced hearing, I was able to catch the mayor's next words, 
although they did not seem intended for anyone but Cyrus. "Next time you're 
talking to the saints," he said, not quite as though he were making a joke, "how 
about if you mention our problems with the rats?"
But then the crowd began to murmur appreciatively, yet in a low note, as though 
too deeply in awe to shout as they had shouted last month in front of the 
cathedral. Cyrus turned from one side to the other, holding up his hands as 
though in benediction, smiling but without the shattering goodness I was now 
able to convince myself I had never actually seen.
Instead he seemed to be soaking in the praiseand, I was almost afraid to say, 
worshipof the crowd like a lizard soaking in the sun's rays. What had die Lady 
Maria said about people coming to honor and revere him? But this simple 
reverence did not now seem enough for him.
"Give God the glory!" he called, and the crowd
206                              C. Dale Brtttain
repeated it. "Prepare for Judgment!" and his words were repeated again. "Hunt 
out sin!"
The evening breeze continued to rise, and in the torches' glare his face was 
shaded red. The candles on the rostrum cast shadows from below that made his 
eyebrows enormous. Demonic, I would have called the effect, except that 
everything he said could have been said by Joachimthe words, but not his way of 
saying them.
"Overcome evil!" he shouted, and I clutched the silver-topped staff tighter. 
"Root out all sin! Destroy the works of the devil! Seize paradise as God has 
promised us!"
The crowd seemed almost choreographed, now starting to sway together, no longer 
repeating his phrases but steadily chanting, "Cyrus, Cyrus." Their chant had the 
steady hard beat of a heart. The mayor, looking somewhat uneasy, slipped away 
into the night. The shouts from the crowd went higher as Cyrus lifted his hands, 
lower as he lowered them. The Lady Maria beside me joined in enthusiastically.
This, I thought, adulation lice this might all be worth it
And then I realized what was so odd about a crowd this size in the city of 
Caelrhon. It included no priests.
PART SIX
Rats I
"I have spoken to him, of course," said the bishop gravely, "and spoken more 
than once. But he always says his only interest is to bring himself closer to 
God by carrying the divine message of judgment and salvation to His flock."
"You should stop him, Joachim. A bishop can certainly forbid Christians from 
listening to a charlatan who preaches false religion."
We sat in the bishop's study, where candlelight reflected on the dark 
windowpanes and made the wood paneling ruddy. There was a faint sound of 
scurrying in the walls that might have been rats, though I had certainly never 
heard any in the bishop's palace before.
Joachim answered me quietly, light and shadow flickering across his face. "But 
is he preaching false religion, Daimbert? I wish that I could say. It is true 
tfiat I have told the cathedral priests not to attend his prayer meetings. But 
is a bishop who lacks the will to resign fit to judge a man who after all only 
teaches God's message? Can there be sin in Christian preaching, even
207
208                           C. Dale Brittain
if done more spectacularly than by most and without die license of a sinful 
bishop?"
Joachim could sometimes be even more exasperating than Antonia. "Don't tell me 
you're still thinking of resigning! Didn't I explain it to you? You and I were 
bodi infected by some spell of madness left in the bones of those undead 
warriors by whatever renegade wizard made them. I hope you realize I wouldn't 
normally try to kill you any more dian you would harbor lustful thoughts."
"I was under a spell?" The bishop looked slighdy ill at the idea.
"So was Celiatiiat's why she suddenly decided to become a nun after insisting 
that she would never retreat from the world to die cloister, but instead become 
an active priest. And I think Cyrus is behind it. You know I've suspected him 
all along of working widi a demon. Wait!" as Joachim seemed about to interrupt. 
"What I'm trying to ask you is, if he repented of his evil ways, including his 
attacks on Yurt, would he be able to save his soul after all by becoming a 
preacher?"
"It is very difficult for someone who has sold his soul to reclaim it," said the 
bishop dubiously. "But I would not be so quick to condemn or to assume"
"And I also had anodier question," I said hastily, not wanting any lectures 
about forgiveness of one's brodier, since I had no intention of being Cyrus's 
brodier. "If someone sold his soul from pure motives, to save anodier's life, 
would he regain it?"
I had told Joachim briefly about Antonia's flying carpet ride when he asked 
after her. He looked at me a moment from his enormous dark eyes, tiien slowly 
started to smile. Whatever he had diat passed for a sense of humor appeared at 
die strangest times. "If one were acting from completely pure motives, die devil 
might not accept die bargain. Do you know why,
Dauchter of Macic                          209
Daimbert," he added in apparent inconsequentiality, "priests do not marry?"
"To avoid sins of the flesh, I presume," I said in surprise, hoping he was not 
about to start confessing yearnings for Theodora again.
"There is certainly an element of diat," he said, still widi a faint smile, "a 
belief diat only diose who are purified as much as any son of Adam can be should 
assume spiritual leadership. But diat is not die only or even principal reason: 
after all, married couples sin less dian a celibate priest widi a perverted 
imagination. But priests must never allow attachment to a single person or 
persons to obscure tiieir duties to all Christians."
"Oh," I said, suddenly realizing what he was talking about. "And you dunk diat 
wizards traditionally don't marry eitiier because we could be distracted from 
our oadis to help mankind by personal affection?"
"Someone who would cheerfully sell his soul to save his daughter," said the 
bishop dryly, "would break wizardry's oatiis just as cheerfully." I hadn't told 
him diat part, but Joachim knew me too well. "Priests give up die love and 
companionship of families of tiieir own to lead all of God's children to 
salvation. A wizard gives up a family for knowledge and power. Tell me, 
Daimbert: is it worth it?"
I studied die surface of die bishop's desk. So far I had a modicum of wizardry's 
knowledge and power far less tiian Elerius, but far more tiian die 
twelve-year-old boy who had used his pennies to learn a few illusions. Was magic 
wortii Theodora refusing to marry me and my king looking at me askance? I had 
not before drought of it in diese terms, but I did know diat at one level 
Theodora was right: magic was as much a part of me as breatiiing. But Antonia 
was even more important tiian my own breadi.
It was no use asking eitiier Joachim or the school
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C. Dale Brittain
how to resolve diis. They would both tell me that as long as I was a wizard I 
could not also have a family, and this was an answer I had no intention of 
accepting.
But I was distracted from these thoughts by another, by a sudden realization 
that something I had pushed to the back of my mind as part of my delerious 
dreams was actually real: the old Romney woman's "fortune." "He's coming by 
night," I told the bishop, leaning abruptly toward him. "Vlad, the dark wizard 
from the Eastern Kingdoms."
Joachim had been on that trip to the East and certainly remembered Vlad. "When 
will he arrive?" he asked soberly, the faint spark of humor gone from his face. 
It was doubtless a tribute to the abilities he thought I had that he did not ask 
how I knew.
'The Romneys told me," I said excitedly, not wanting to take credit for extra 
powers, "but fighting that wolf knocked the memory out of me. But it all comes 
back now and it all makes sense. Vlad probably hoped that if he could make our 
days as dark as night he could travel more easilylight destroys whatever holds 
his half-dead body together. And that was one of his wolves he sent ahead. But 
when I dispersed his clouds he realized it would be too dangerous to try to 
travel by day, because I or any other wizard could bathe him in sunlight with a 
few weather spells."
"And this has something to do with Cyrus?" asked the bishop with an air of 
trying to understand what I was suggesting.
"Of course." But even as I spoke all the certainty went out of me. "That is, I 
don't know. The undead warriors did appear to be made with Vlad's form of 
eastern magic, and the wolf seemed specifically spelled against a western 
wizard. ..." I paused and looked at Joachim uneasily. 'Vlad has had reason to 
hate me for years, and he may finally have decided to come after
Dauchter of Macic                          211
me as he threatened to do. Cyrus seemed to know who I was, but. . ."
"Would Vlad have summoned a demon?"
This was the same problem I was having. Just when I thought it all made sense, 
it stopped doing so. "I don't think so, Joachim, not if he's coming by night. 
There was nothing demonic about the warriors. If Vlad had gotten supernatural 
assistance in rebuilding bis body, he would no longer have to fear sunlight or 
anything elseexcept of course hell. . . ."
'Too many wizards have no respect for either heaven or hell," said the bishop in 
disapproval.
"Well, that's probably true from the Church's point of view," I said slowly. 
"But wizards still try to avoid black magic: supplementing their powers with 
those of a demon. If nothing else, it's considered a sign of weakness not to be 
able to gain results with unaided magic. Vlad wouldn't be hiding in darkness if 
he had a demon working with him, so he must be relying on natural magic." I 
stared into the candle flame, disturbingly reminded of Cyrus's face in the 
market. "So I don't know what this has to do with your cathedral, Joachim, or 
for that matter widi die Lady Justinia. But if a bishop can ever listen to a 
wizard, listen to me and make Cyrus stop."
Before he could answer we were interrupted by a rising murmur of voices. It 
seemed to be coming from the square in front of the cathedral.
The bishop and I looked at each other. "I've got them!" came a man's voice, loud 
and harsh, over the general murmur. "I've got die sinners! Let's put diem to 
deadi now\"
Joachim and I raced out into die night. I hadn't moved this fast since the wolf 
attack. Many of die same people who had been with Cyrus at die covered market 
now
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milled around in the building site before the cathedral, carrying torches. Cyrus 
himself stood halfway up the church steps. He turned smoothly, as though acting 
a part, his eyes coming to rest on a heavyset man at the back of the crowd.
"I've got them, Your Holiness!" the man called triumphantly. His voice was harsh 
and a little slurred, but it made up for it in volume. My heart gave a hard 
thump when I realized that by 'Tour Holiness" he meant not the bishop but Cyrus.
Each of the man's big fists clutched a Romney by die collar. One was a 
gray-haired old man, the other the woman who had told my fortune. They hung 
limply, tbeir feet dragging the ground, and their black eyes wide with fear. 
There was a faint squeaking from the piled building materials that might have 
been rats. The torchlight glinted incongruously on die brisde on the old woman's 
upper Up as the two captives were dragged forward.
"They're sinners, all right," the burly man continued. The two Romneys seemed to 
be putting up little resistance, but he had a bruise coming up across his 
forehead and her dress was half ripped off under the shawl she clutched around 
her. Joachim beside me drew in his breadi sharply.
"Sin, sin, drive out sin," murmured the crowd together. The mayor reappeared at 
die back of the crowd, as though drawn against his will.
I could have paralyzed die heavyset man witb magic and snatched the Romneys from 
him, but with the crowd in a potentially ugly mood, acting too quickly could 
make the situation even worse. Panting from sudden exertion while still weak, I 
silendy started putting die first words of a spell together.
'These are the ones who brought all those rats to town!" die man shouted. "They 
confessed it diemselves
Daughter of Magic                        213
when I applied a litde, shall we say, persuasion. Let's hang diem at once! It's 
die Christian diing to do. Then we'll go set fire to all their caravans!"
At diat the bishop strode forward through the crowd, his dark eyes ablaze. The 
people stepped aside for him with surprised faces. What had started to be 
general sounds of loud agreement were abrupdy cut off. Maybe I wouldn't have to 
use my spell after all.
Joachim, reaching the front, did not hesitate. He put his own hands on the heads 
of the Romneys and met die man's gaze. "Let diem go, in God's name," he said 
quiedy but very firmly.
The man was taken aback. Joachim was as tall as he was even if only about half 
as bulky. But after a second the man tightened his grip again. "Why do you care 
about these people, Fadier?" he sneered, giving them a shake. 'They're not even 
Christians! Killing them would be like killing an animala rat!"
There was a murmur of assent from the crowd but with die slightest note of 
uncertainty.
"All men and women are God's children," replied Joachim clearly. "Rats do not 
have immortal souls; humans do. No one, Christian or not, can be put to deadi 
without a legal judgment, and no one but yourself believes that the Romneys have 
anydiing to do with the vermin in our city."
The torches hissed in the sudden stillness, and the sky above lowered heavy and 
black. The people stood motionless, watching the burly man and the bishop stare 
at each other. A few rats darted out into die crowd but immediately disappeared 
again.
"Don't you believe in overcoming sin, Your Holiness?" the man said after a 
moment. His voice was not so loud or so assured, and I noted he had returned 
Joachim's tide to him. "Don't you thinklike Cyrus!that God wants us to root 
out evil?"
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'To kill the defenseless," replied the bishop, his hands still resting 
protectively on the Romneys' heads, "is to embrace evil, not drive it out."
"Are you so sure, then," said the man doggedly, "that you always recognize evil 
yourself when you see it?"
Joachim winced at diat. Before he could answer, another voice came from die 
crowd, a woman's voice. It was the Lady Maria. "Oh, let them go!" she called. 
"Of course we have to overcome sin! But rats aren't sin. And aren't you just the 
tiniest bit ashamed of yourself for dragging an old man and woman out of their 
homes? I am not, of course, nearly as old myself as they are, but I can imagine 
how frightening it must be!"
Cyrus had been standing silendy, widiout moving, as though waiting to see die 
crowd's mood before reacting. His expression had been very strange, one moment 
distant and ediereal, but the next alert and almost cunning. At the Lady Maria's 
words he resolutely stepped forward, hands held high. "Praise God!" he shouted. 
"For He has spoken through His humble handmaiden!"
T'm no handmaiden!" the Lady Maria snapped back, her voice loud and clear. T was 
born the daughter of a castellan lord and am die aunt of die queen of Yurt!" 
After a second's starded silence, there came a new note to die sound of the 
crowd, a note of surprise, almost a giggle. Although it passed away again almost 
immediately, die tension was broken. Cyrus looked as diough he wanted to stare 
Maria down. "Well, if you want to use the term in die Biblical sense," she said 
defensively, giving her skirt an indignant flounce. "But I'm glad you have die 
wit to realize I'm talking sense."
"See how the devil tempts us all!" Cyrus cried, raising his eyes from die Lady 
Maria to die black sky above. "God's daughter has spoken truly! Sin comes 
masquerading as
Dauchter of Macic                     215
goodness, luring even die most righteous into error! Repent, my children! 
Repent!"
"You mean I have to let diem go?" die burly man asked truculendy.
"Yes!" said Joachim and Cyrus togedier.
He thrust die Romneys from him widi disgust. "All right, Holy Fadier," he said, 
and it was not clear which man he was addressing. "But don't blame me if the 
rats get worse!"
The Romneys stumbled and would have fallen if die bishop had not caught diem. He 
put an arm around each and, sweaty and grimy as diey were, gave diem die kiss of 
peace on both cheeks. "Let me apologize to you on behalf of all die priests of 
Caelrhon," he said, loudly enough diat everyone could hear. "I see die mayor is 
here, and I am sure he expresses die same sentiment on behalf of Caelrhon's 
citizens." The mayor made an incoherent sound diat was more assent dian 
anydiing. "One misguided and overzealous Christian is not representative. Would 
you like some assistance returning to your caravans ?"
But the Romneys, dieir eyes still wide, wanted no assistance. The crowd, 
shamefaced, parted for diem as diey hurried away.
I turned from watching diem go to see die bishop standing sternly in front of 
his newest seminary student, his left hand extended at waist level. After only a 
moment's hesitation Cyrus knelt and kissed die episcopal ring reverendy.
"Praise God!" he shouted dien as he rose to his feet, as though wanting to 
reassert his authority over die crowd. "For He has given us a truly holy bishop 
to lead us!
"Cyrus," said Joachim, not at all mollified, "I shall speak to you in the 
cathedral office first diing in die morning."
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C. Dale Brittain
The bishop strode away with a swirl of vestments. "I see," said Cyrus behind 
him, unoowed, "that before any other Christians are tempted into sin I shall 
have to do something about those rats."
II
It was just before dawn when a sound woke me. I lifted my head from Theodora's 
couch to listen, unsure at first if it was dream or reality.
It was reality, all right Faint but clear, from the direction of the docks, came 
the sound of piping.
As I listened the music grew louder, as though the piper was coming this way. 
The notes rose and rose again, wild and compelling, a music that entered the 
brain and called the body. That piping had me swaying on my feet with my hand on 
the doorknob before I even realized what I was doing. It tugged at the magic 
within me with a call that overcame all feeling, all will, nearly all thought.
"No," I gasped, and the sound of my own voice gave me back a little of my 
senses. I made a desperate effort and pushed away from the door. No magic I knew 
could oppose this. Theodora emerged from the bedroom in a long white nightgown, 
her eyes only slighdy open, and brushed past me, reaching for the knob.
I seized her and held her to me. She struggled but as though only dimly aware of 
my presence. Faint light from the curtained window fell on pallid cheeks and 
tumbled hair. "Theodora. Wait. Stop. Don't follow it," I managed to choke out.
But it was Antonia, clutching Dolly and stretching to unlock the door, who 
seemed to make Theodora aware of where she was. She shook herself, gave me a 
quick look, and pulled our daughter back into the middle of the room. The three 
of us clung together desperately as the piping came closer
Daughter of Magic                     217
"It's a spell," I said in a low voice, hoping that the sound of a human voice 
would keep us anchored here in this room. The notes were mixed with another 
sound now, almost a squeaking. Antonia had ceased struggling but was crying 
silenuy. "Someone is working a summoning spell. I don't recognize his magic at 
all, but I thinkI hopeit's not for us."
Summoning was specifically forbidden by the masters of the wizards' school as 
the greatest sin a wizard could commit.
"It's only because we all know magic that we're more susceptible tiian most 
people to spells," I tried to continue in a calm, explanatory tone.
But now the piper was direcdy outside Theodora's door. I stopped speaking as it 
took all my effort just to keep myself from abandoning my family and all my 
reason to follow that music.
There was a moment in which I must have squeezed Theodora's arms painfully, 
because she had purple bruises later, but with my eyes tight shut I was unaware 
of her, only of my desperate need to follow and equally desperate determination 
not to. But after what seemed an endless time, diough it could only have been a 
few seconds, the piper passed by. I took a deep breath that was almost a sob as 
the power of his spell diminished.
Antonia plopped down in the middle of die floor, crying hard, and Theodora tried 
to comfort her. I lifted the curtain to look out. The piper was gone, and I did 
not see any of Theodora's neighbors following.
"It looks like that was only a spell for magic-workers," I started to say, 
trying to make it a joke.
But then I saw the rats. Hundreds of them, thousands of them, brown rats poured 
like a river down the middle of the street, their hairless tails arched over 
tiieir backs. More came scampering out of cellars and alleys to join the stream. 
Theodora joined me at the window and
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C. Dale Brittain
stared in amazement. I had not realized how thoroughly the city had been overrun 
with rodents until I now saw them all together.
"Well," I said when I could speak again. "It looks like Cyrus really has done 
something about the rats."
We bathed, dressed, and had breakfast to give ourselves time to calm down. "It 
wouldn't have to be a demonic spell," I said to Theodora as we went out two 
hours later. I leaned again on my predecessor's silver-topped staff.
There was a narrow crevice at the center of the cobbled street where rainwater 
drained. The thin layer of mud on the bottom was marked with the prints of 
thousands of rat feet.
"The school doesn't teach summoning anymore," I continued, "in part because such 
spells are almost impossible to resist, even for a skilled wizard, and they 
don't want the students practicing on each other. I wouldn't even recognize an 
eastern summoning spell, especially one designed for rats, but it still almost 
captured us."
"Where did all the rats go?" asked Antonia with interest. She had cheered up 
quickly once the music of the piper had passed. "Will they come back? Do you 
think our pet Cyrus was with them?"
"I thought Jen's mother and I told you to let him go," said Theodora 
reprovingly.
"Well, he probably got out of his box anyway," said Antonia, skipping ahead.
Everyone in the city seemed to be out in the streets, talking excitedly about 
the rats' disappearance. I caught snatches of conversation as we headed toward 
the cathedral, and it appeared that, according to the bargemen, an enormous 
number of rats had appeared downstream from the city this morning, many drowned
Dauchter of Macic                     219
in the river, the rest looking confused but showing no sign of returning. 
Although quite a few people had heard the piping, no one had actually seen the 
piper. That did not keep everyone from assuming it had been Cyrus.
"fie tried to tell me he'd given up magic," I told Theodora. "But it looks like 
his purportedly religious desire to put his past behind him is less important 
than his desire for acclaimespecially with Joachim reasserting his spiritual 
authority."
No one else seemed to have been lured by the magic. The question flashed through 
my mind whether it might be not Cyrus but Vlad who had come into Caelrhon with 
the magic to summon rats. But I could imagine no reason why that dark wizard 
would care about the city's rodent population, and piping at dawn would be too 
dangerous for someone liable to disintegrate in daylight.
We found Joachim in the cathedral office. The acolyte outside the door at first 
feigned ignorance whether the bishop was even there, then claimed he wouldn't 
want to see usmost of the cathedral attendants had looked at me dubiously ever 
since I burst in on him last month, and that was not even knowing that I had 
intended to kill himbut I pushed past.
The bishop sat without moving, staring at nothing in particular, and looked up 
in surprise when we were already halfway across the room. He rose then and came 
to meet us, his face gaunt and troubled, without even an attempt at a smile. 
Theodora knelt to kiss his ring, which made me wonder if Cyrus had left some 
sort of infection on it with his lips, and then of course Antonia had to as 
well. Joachim rested his hand on her head a moment in blessing.
"Did you talk to him?" I asked, too worried not to be brusque, even though 
Theodora kicked me in admonishment. "Did you hear about the rats?"
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C. Dale Brittain
Joachim nodded his head fractionally. "I am not so removed from the cares and 
concerns of the city as you appear to think, Daimbert," he said, and just for a 
second humor glinted in his eyes. I might not be able to do much about black 
magic, I thought bitterly, but I seemed to be good at cheering up bishops. "Yes, 
Cyrus came and spoke to meapparently, as I learned once he left, almost 
immediately after leading the rats out of town."
"What did you tell him?" I demanded. "Did you tell him he can't keep on 
preaching if he s going to encourage townspeople into all sorts of excesses, 
including worshipping him?"
Joachim turned to Theodora, the faint humor again in his eyes. "Do you have the 
same problem with him?" he asked conversationally. "Does he keep acting as 
though you couldn't carry out your own responsibilities without his 
supervision?"
"But what did he say?" I cried impatiently.
Joachim opened a drawer with infuriating deliberation and gave Antonia some 
paper and colored chalk. She sat down happily to draw at the far side of the 
room. It looked as though she was drawing a crowd of rats following a man. The 
bishop, completely serious now, pulled up chairs for Theodora and me.
"I did tell Cyrus that it was inappropriate for a seminary student to be 
preaching so regularly," he said quietly, "especially in a cathedral city where 
the faithful never lack access to God's word. But when he pleaded with me it was 
hard to resist him. It was, after all, his prayers that miraculously restored 
the burned street."
"I already told you what I think of that 'miracle,' " I said grumpily.
"And he did help return the townsmen to the voice of their consciences last 
evening, when that man tried to turn them against the Romneys."
Daughter of Magic                          221
"That wasn't Cyrus, Joachim. The Romneys were saved by youand the Lady Maria."
"I could not sleep last night," the bishop continued slowly, "so I slipped out 
of the palace in the darkest hour and went toward the Romney camp. I am not sure 
why I wentperhaps to apologize again or to be sure those old people suffered no 
serious hurt. But it did not matter. They had left."
"AM the caravans?" I asked, and he nodded. I could see the Romneys' point; I 
would have left too.
"Sometimes I have thought," Joachim went on, "that God sent the Romneys to 
Caelrhon for a purpose, so that I might be able to win them for Christianity. 
But now what must they think of a faith in whose name a man would threaten to 
murder them without cause?"
"But did Cyrus say anything about the rats?" I asked, not wanting to get into 
questions of God's hidden purpose and also not wanting to bring up the point 
that I myself had once threatened to murder the bishop, equally without cause.
"He said nothing," Joachim replied shordy.
"Well, I still think he's deceiving you with a pious facade. That was very 
powerful magic to summon those ratsit almost trapped Theodora and me too." I 
paused a moment but then went on, because whatever else I had always tried to be 
honest with Joachim. "It wouldn't have to be a demon this time. In fact, I keep 
being convinced that he brought me undead warriors to Yurt, but that wasn't 
black magic either. But if he won't admit to wizardry of any kind he's 
concealing a lot from you."
'Then I shall speak to him again, Daimbert. You know my concern has always been 
whether he was truly working miracles or practicing renegade magic in the guise 
of miracles. A summoning spell is scarcely the work of the saints."
Theodora had been listening to us in silence. Now
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C. Dale Brittain
she said, "It sounds to me as though he's confused popular approval with real 
goodness. He won the friendship of tlie children by mending their toys and pets, 
and he received the keys of die city from die mayor for restoring the burned 
buildings. What will he want for cleansing Caelrhon of rats?"
Ill
The old king of Yurt, Paul's father, had spent much of his time sitting on die 
throne in the great hall, dispensing justice, talking to other members of the 
court, or reading rose growers' catalogues. Paul, on the other hand, only used 
his throne on the most formal occasions.
So my heart sank when he sent for me upon my return to Yurt and I found him 
seated diere, resting his chin on his fists. This could be it, I thought, 
squaring my shoulders, my dismissal from Yurt for having a family contrary to 
all the traditions of wizardry. Well, I had always told Theodora I would happily 
do magic tricks on street corners if I could do so with her. I might now be 
emulating the man who had first taught me illusions.
But King Paul did not speak at once of <lismissal. He appeared uneasy and kept 
crossing and uncrossing booted legs. The warm air of a summer evening washed 
dirough die room's tall windows. "So Theodora is safely home now?" he asked 
vaguely, giving me a quick glance and looking away again.
"That's right," I said cautiously, waiting for what was coming next.
"Why didn't you ever tell me about her, Wizard?" he demanded almost accusingly.
"Well, I must apologize," I said stiffly. "I realize now I should have told you 
at once, but I met her die summer of your coronation, and you will recall a lot 
happened that summer."
Daughter of Magic
223
Paul gave a quick grin. "Only adventure you've ever let me go on," he remarked. 
"But why not tell me about die httle girl?" he continued, looking uneasy again. 
"You didn't need to pretend she was your niece!"
"As I say, I know now I was wrong," I said, standing widi my arms straight down 
my sides and heels togedier. "Organized wizardry does not want wizards to be 
fathers, and out of cowardice, I'm afraid to admit, I decided to say nothing. 
Once I had begun die deception, it was difficult to end."
Paul had stared off toward die odier end of die empty room as I started 
speaking, but he now turned back and grinned again. "So I'm not die only person 
in die casde who has odiers planning for him if and whom he's going to marry, 
with or without his consent!"
It slowly dawned on me diat Paul had been asking me about Theodora not as a 
prelude to requesting my resignation but to avoid talking about what was really 
on his mind.
He took a deep breath, planted his boots on the throne's footrest, and faced me 
squarely. "How would you like to be Celia s spiritual sponsor?"
"Her what?!"
"I knew you'd react like diis," he said, shaking his head. "That's why I agreed 
to talk to you myseE I tried to tell her diat wizards have never had much 
respect for the Church, but she insisted she wanted you. I wish you would at 
least consider it. It would mean a lot to her."
"Excuse me, sire, but I don't know what you're talking about."
"Celia comes of age in two weeks," said Paul gravely. "She has told her parents 
that on her birthday she will ride over to the Nunnery of Yurt and make her 
maiden vocation. The chaplain and I have checked into the requirements for her. 
They won't, of course, let her
224
C. Dale Brittain
take her final vows until after a year as a novice, but there's a ceremony when 
she enters, and she needs a sponsor. Preferably a man, the abbess told me, 
someone of mature authority. Prince Ascelin won't do it because he's still not 
reconciled to his daughter becoming a nun. I offered, of course, but Celia said 
she would rather have you."
"But if she's going to be a nun, Paul, she doesn't want a wizard! Especially me. 
The abbess won't want me either. I don't know what Celia told you, and she 
hasn't talked to me herself for weeks, but. . ."
"She told me you'd raise these objections. But listen, Wizard. This is very hard 
on Ceha. First she decided to become a priest, but no one would take her 
seriously not her parents, not her own sister, and not even the bishop. Then 
she met that miracle-worker over in CaelrhonCyrus, isn't that his name? 
Studying with him was the first thing I think she felt she'd ever done that she 
chose for herself, rather than having others choose it for her. Then somehow 
that didn't work out. I'm still not sure what happened, but at some point while 
trying to learn from him she decided to give up her plan for an active spiritual 
career and become a nun instead."
She had run straight into a spell of madness, but I wasn't going to mention that 
now.
"Then she found outexcuse me, Wizardthat you weren't always as pure as a 
priest yourself, which only confirmed her desire to retreat from anything 
worldly, in spite of increased opposition from her parents. So you see," he 
finished somewhat shamefacedly, "that she considers it a suitable act of 
forgiveness and penitence to begin her life in the cloister with you beside 
her."
It sounded to me as though King Paul was going out of his way not to say 
anything judgmental about my
Dauchter of Magic                       225
conduct. Of course, it was rather irritating that people here in the casde 
seemed to be trying to demonstrate how broad-minded they were by overlooking 
sometiiing which, in fact, had not happened for years.
But if I was not dismissed then I should be able to stay on in Yurt, I thought 
with a flood of relief diat surprised me by its intensity. Perhaps the Golden 
Yurt award really did mean diat Paul respected me and my service to the kingdom, 
no matter what. But I had to concentrate on Ceha. "So what does a spiritual 
sponsor do?"
Paul turned his emerald eyes fully on me. "Then you'll do it? This is wonderful, 
Wizard." He jumped down from the throne and clapped me on the shoulder. "I knew 
you'd agree if I explained it all to you. I'll go tell Celia. She'll be 
delighted."
As he hurried out I found myself wondering which would be harder to explain to 
Zahlfast at the wizards' school: that I had a daughter or that I had agreed to 
sponsor a novice nun.
"You realize," commented Joachim, "that you're probably the only wizard in the 
western kingdoms who worries about seminary students." His face in the glass 
telephone looked unworried, even amused. I wished I felt the same.
"But what is Cyrus doing?" I demanded again. It had been two weeks since I 
returned to Yurt, and I had heard nothing from Caelrhon beyond a few 
pigeon-messages from Theodora, saying little more than that she and Antonia were 
fine and sent dieir love. I had tried again to get help from Zahlfast, but he 
had said even more frostily dian before diat if diere was indeed a renegade 
eastern wizard holed up in Caelrhon's seminary, dien die wizard of Caelrhon and 
I would just have to keep an eye on him.
226                        C. Dale BriUain
"Cyrus is attending seminary classes," said Joachim, "studying, praying, the 
same as any other student."
"I hope you've made him give up those meetings of his where people come and 
revere him." I knew as I spoke that die bishop would drink dris one more example 
of my not trusting him to carry out his own duties, but I had to know. "The Lady 
Maria's returned to Yurt now, but she won't say anydring about himjust tells me 
my mind isn't pure enough to understand true holiness."
Maria had come back looking pleased widi herself but was surprisingly 
untalkative, except to say that die Princess Margareta had decided to stay on in 
Caelrhon for a few weeks. The princess, finding her own royal casde, Yurt, and 
die city all filled with ennui or embarrassment for one reason or another, 
seemed to have decided diat, overall, the city offered the most possibilities.
Joachim hesitated for a moment, as diough wondering himself if the topic of a 
seminary student's behavior was fit for a wizard's ears, but then continued as 
diough diere had been no pause.
"After the incident with the rats, of course, I ordered him to stop preaching or 
even speaking on spiritual issues to anyone but a priest. He could not deny diat 
was magic, and he understood why I could not allow someone practicing wizardry 
to pass as the Church's representative. I suspect he is irritated widi me, in 
spite of his penitent attitude, as well as with you for detecting his spells." 
Joachim seemed remarkably unconcerned about it. "But he is studying hard and 
making good progress, I hear. Many seminary students come in diese days with die 
impression diat diey are already spiritually advanced, scarcely needing our 
guidance, so if he's had a few rough spots in his early training he has 
company."
"We're not talking about rough spots. We're talking about someone who works with 
a demon."
"I know you believe diat, Daimbert," said die bishop
Daughter of Magic                     227
good-naturedly, "but I have yet to see die slightest sign of anything of die 
sort. If there is black magic in his background, he has struggled hard to 
overcome it."
"Has die mayor made him any more presentations?"
"Nowhy should he?" Joachim looked amused again. "Cyrus already has die key to 
die city, somediing die council has granted no other seminary student or 
priestnot even me."
I diought but did not say tiiat I would find menace radier tiian humor in 
someone trained in eastern magic, someone who had had demonic help witii at 
least some of his spells, whatever die bishop might drink, and who was doubdess 
now furious widi die organized Church, witii die mayor and council of Caelrhon, 
and with me. Even if he were trying to break away, tiirough prayer and study in 
die seminary, from a demon he had unwisely summoned, he had set himself a very 
difficult task. The demon would haunt him whenever he was not actually in 
church, magnifying his sense of wrongs done to him, and tempting him widi 
spectacular ways to get even.
"I hear you will be Celia's spiritual sponsor at die nunnery," Joachim 
continued, having put concerns about Cyrus behind him. "I plan to ride over 
myself for die ceremony, so I shall see you tomorrow."
Celia, Hildegarde, and I rode down to die Nunnery of Yurt togedier. Given die 
circumstances, I had decided not to wish die twins a happy birthday. Their 
parents had announced at the last minute tiiat they would accompany us. Celia, 
looking at die resignation and reluctance on their faces, which they made no 
effort to hide, took them away for a few minutes' private conversation and 
returned widiout them, silent but widi red eyes. She did not speak die whole 
journey.
The nunnery was only a few miles from die royal casde, but it could have been 
located in anodier kingdom
228                           C. Dale Brittain
for all the contact we had with it. One could see its church spire, rising above 
some trees, from the road, but I had never gone any closer. It was a hot day of 
midsummer, and the sun beat down on us and our black clothing, so I was relieved 
when we turned down the lane, bright with asters, that led to the nunnery.
The lane took us around the shoulder of a hill and into the nuns' valley. A low 
wall, its gate open, circled the nunnery complex. The church itself, surrounded 
by its claustral edifices and farm buildings, looked peaceful and prosaic. In 
the surrounding fields the nuns' tenants, stripped to the waist in the sun, were 
bringing in the hay. They waved to us cheerfully as we rode past
"There's still time to change your mind," said Hildegarde hopefully. She had 
been itchy and uncomfortable in her black dress since we left Yurt. "You know 
they don't want women who aren't absolutely sure of their vocations. No one will 
think any less of you."
Celia shook her head without bothering to reply.
A priest came out to meet us as we clattered over the paving stones in front of 
the church. Roses bloomed by the entrance: nearly as good, I had to admit, as in 
Yurt's royal garden.
"The Lady Celia, I believe?" the priest said, having no trouble distinguishing 
her, with her sober, weary eyes, from her flushed and irritated sister. "The 
abbess awaits you within. And this must be your spiritual sponsor."
"My name is Daimbert." I had done my best not to look like a wizard, having even 
borrowed a belt from one of the knights so as not to wear mine, with its 
self-illuminating emblem of the moon and stars on the buckle.
The priest noticed me admiring the roses. "Those were a gift, many years ago, 
from old King Haimeric of Yurt," he told me proudly. "He sent us the rootstock."
Daughter of Macic                     229
Our horses were led away and the priest led us inside. Celia was whisked off to 
meet with the abbess, while two elderly nuns sat down with Hildegarde and me, to 
spend the next hour making sure we were clear on the details of our roles in the 
ceremony as family member and as spiritual sponsor.
What am I doing here? I wondered. I didn't believe any young woman should be a 
nun, I didn't think Celia herself really wanted to be one, and I was having 
trouble taking seriously the words and symbols that the elderly nun was trying 
to explain to me.
"Then, after you have spoken these words," she said, looking at me over her 
spectacles, "dip your finger in the sacramental water and touch Sister Celia 
three times, once on each eyelid and once on the chin. Use your forefinger." She 
was tiny and would have appeared fragile were it not for the cheerful energy 
that flowed from her. "But remember, don't speak and certainly don't dip your 
finger in the water until the priest has finished the initial prayers and the 
abbess has led the Amen
twice."
I heard the sound of more hooves outside and concluded that the bishop had 
arrived with his attendants. Why couldn't he have been spiritual sponsor 
instead? I asked myself in irritation. He probably was used to performing 
rituals like this all the time.
"And you know, I hope," the nun continued, "that you have to take her by the 
hand to lead her up to the bishop when it is time for her to make her maiden 
vows before him. We are very honored that the bishop himself will perform the 
office today, rather than one of our own confessors. We want everything to go 
perfectly." She looked at me intently. "Will you be able to remember
all this?"
Hildegarde's role, I gathered from snatches of conversation from the far side of 
the room as I repeated
230                              C. Dale Brittain
my instructions back, would be much simpler. After the rest of the ceremony was 
overso that it was clear that the nuns had accepted Celia for herself, not for 
any paymentHildegarde would convey to the abbess the stone, the clod of earth, 
and die applewood staff that symbolized the property which the duchess had 
agreed to give the nunnery if her daughter really did insist on joining.
"Come," said the nun briskly. "It is time to go down to the chapel."
IV
The chapel was hot and stuffy, a small room with an altar at one end and rows of 
nuns packing the sides. In their black robes and headdresses, they looked very 
much alike in spite of variations in size, shape, and age. All had wedding rings 
on their left handsbrides of Christ, I reminded myself. Their faces wore 
identical expressions of reverence.
Hildegarde and I took our positions at either side of the door, opposite the 
altar. I looked for but did not see Celia. The room was heavy with the scents of 
lavender and incense. The nuns must have received some signal I didn't catch, 
for they abrupdy began to sing in unison, a sweet hymn of praise.
When the hymn ended, the abbess swept in, diree priests scrambling to keep up 
with her like small boats in the wake of a ship. Even in a nunnery, I thought, 
diey used men for priests. It looked as diough Celia's original plan never had a 
chance.
The abbess was even ' iller than the twins, and her piercing blue eyes didn't 
look as though they missed much. She nodded rather distandy to Hildegarde and me 
and went to stand by die altar. There was a stone font next to it, like a 
bapti<^i__Lfont, diat I assumed
Daughter of Magic                          231
must hold die sacramental water. Forefinger, I reminded myself, both eyelids and 
the chin.
Then Joachim entered, formal in his best scarlet vestments diat Theodora had 
embroidered for him. He caught my eye for a second but gave no other sign of 
greeting as he joined die abbess. Each of diem gave die other a slight bow, but 
she showed no sign of kissing his ring. He might be the chief spiritual 
authority in two kingdoms, but this was still her nunnery and he was here on her 
sufferance.
The nuns began to sing again, and then the novices entered. They made a striking 
contrast with the nuns, for they were dressed in white rather dian black and 
dius sprang into relief against the background of the older sisters. They wore 
no wedding rings. All carried white wax candles diat flickered in the still air 
as they walked.
Although die novices wore identical, very simple white robes, and all had dieir 
heads shaved, the differences between them were much more pronounced than 
between die adult nuns. Many were girls, who would remain novices until they 
were sixteen and old enough to choose their own vocation. One didn't look much 
older than Antonia; she walked with great solemnity, keeping her eyes on her 
candle. Another, a graceful girl about the same age as the Princess Margareta, 
had somehow managed to pin or tie her plain white robe in a way to suggest great 
elegance, without doing anything blatant enough to draw the abbess's censure. 
Her shaved head was carried at an angle diat suggested diat she personally knew 
diat women without hair were much more alluring than women widi hair. She looked 
at me a moment longer than necessary as she passed, raising an eyebrow in a way 
I would have had to call coquettish. She at least would not be here once she 
turned sixteen.
232                              C. Dale Brittain
The other novices were older, one or two young women like Celia, and a handful 
of mature women who were probably widows. These would all be full nuns widrin 
the year, unless the abbess found them unsuitable or unless they changed dieir 
minds.
The novices, holding their candles, lined up in ranks in front of the black 
nuns. They began a new song then, one that startled me so much when I heard the 
words that I nearly spoke out. This had better just be something symbolic out of 
the Bible.
"Let him lass me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine. 
Because of the savour of thy good ointments, therefore do the virgins love thee. 
The king hath brought me into his chambers: we will be glad and rejoice. His 
left hand is under my head, and his right hand doth embrace me." I almost felt I 
should rush over to the girl Antonia's age and cover her earsbut she was 
singing too.
The door beside me opened, and Celia came in: dressed like a bride and carrying 
roses.
She walked very slowly, not looking at Hildegarde and me or at anyone else. Her 
black hair hung loose over the shoulders of a white lace gown and down to her 
waist in back. It-would all be shaved off by nightfall, I thought. WIr'te 
ribbcns and white rosebuds formed a headpiece. The singing continued until she 
reached the middle of die chapel, facing the bishop and abbess, and halted.
Joachim stepped forward. First die bishop's address, I thought, dien die prater 
by die abbess's chief priest, dien, right after the V^en, I would say my piece. 
Two Amens, I told myself."Don't be hasty. Then die second prayer, dien Celia 
would pronounce her vows, dien The bishop had just opened his moudi to speak 
when there were quick footsteps in die passage outside, and die door burst open. 
The abbess took a step forward,
Daughter of Magic                          233
eyes snapping at diis interruption. A woman hurried into die chapel but froze 
when everyone turned to look at her.
She wore a dark blue dress and a white apron housekeeper, I diought. Before the 
abbess's glare she became silent and rigid, even started to walk out backwards. 
The novices' candle flames swayed in the slight breeze from die open door.
But after only a few seconds the housekeeper remembered the reason she had come 
with such urgency and stepped forward again. "Excuse me, Reverend Modier, but 
it's a very important message for die bishop from the cadiedral."
Joachim crossed to stand beside her. She spoke quickly and in an undertone, 
which a quick and highly irreverent spell allowed me to overhear. "I'm so sorry 
to interrupt, Your Holiness, but a pigeon-message just came in, and it said at 
die top that you must receive it at once. It's something about your 
goddaughter."
The blood turned to ice in my veins. Antonia!
"Excuse me just for a moment, Reverend Mother," said Joachim quickly and hurried 
away. Without excusing myself at all, I was right behind him.
The housekeeper led us up flights of stairs and down echoing, vaulted corridors 
to a litde enclosed courtyard off die kitchens. The pigeon loft was on die far 
side, and several maids stood diere, looking uneasy. One smiled widi relief when 
she saw me. "Oh, are you named Daimbert? A second pigeon just arrived, widi a 
message to you from die royal casde. It says it's urgent."
Both messages, Joachim's and mine, were ultimately from Theodora. She had, it 
appeared, bullied the cadiedral priests into letting her use the telephone in 
die office diere to call Yurt. When Gwennie told her I wasn't home, she had 
instead sent a pigeon-message to Joachim, at die same time as Gwennie was 
writing
234
C. Dale Brittain
a message conveying the gist of the phone call to me. "She was nearly 
hysterical," Gwennie wrote at die end.
Hildegarde came panting up. "There you are!" she said cheerfully. "When you 
botii left the chapel so abrupdy I knew it had to be something pretty important! 
I'm afraid I don't have my weapons widi me, but it shouldn't take long to stop 
back at die casde for diem. What's happening?"
I felt almost hysterical myseE "It's Antonia," I managed to gasp. "And all the 
odier children of Caelrhon. Cyrus has piped diem out of town and no one can find 
diem."
My heart was pounding so hard it was almost impossible to diink clearly. The 
flying carpet, I told myself over die roaring in my ears. It could fly a lot 
faster dian I could. Even widi a detour back to the casde to get it, I would 
still reach Caelrht 1 faster man by my own unaided flying. And if we had to 
quarter and search all the rivers and forests and fields around die city, it 
would be good to have die fastest transportation possible.
"Tell Celia I'm sorry, but she'll have to have a different spiritual sponsor," I 
said to the bishop and shot off, not even caring if it was irreverent to fly 
widiin the precincts of die nunnery.
This was so horrible I couldn't let myself believe it. It had to be oxne 
mistake. The children had gone for a picnic and someone had started a foolish 
rumor. They would all be home, laughing to hear how frightened everyone had 
been, by the time I reached Caelrhon.
The pit of my stomach didn't buy any of this.
A summoning spell like the one Cyrus had used on the rats, I thought as I flew 
madly back toward die casde, but a spell widi a subtle change to summon children 
instead. Feeling aggrieved at die bishop for making him give up the prayer 
sessions where people
Dauchter of Magic                          235
essentially came and worshipped him, at me for exposing his use of magic, and at 
die mayor and council for not coming to find him in the seminary with some even 
better reward than die key to the city, heor the demonhad decided to take his 
revenge through die children. His piping would have drawn them all as surely as 
it had drawn the rats; Antonia, whose flair for magic made her particularly 
susceptible, wouldn't have stood a chance.
Now I just had to try to find some clue to show where diey had gone. Not taken 
downstream and dropped off like the rats, either to drown or wander away, I 
tried to persuade myself. According to Gwennie's account, fuller than what 
Theodora had written the bishop, Cyrus had invited a number of his old friends, 
die children from the artisans' quarter, for a country stroll. Antonia's friend 
Jen had apparendy been one of them, and Antonia had gone along. Adults had heard 
piping in the distance, but only Theodora had realized, when she felt a faint 
tug herself, what it meant, and by then odier children were leaving dieir chores 
and their games to race through the city streets and out die gates. By die time 
die grown-ups went after them, every child under fourteen was gone.
But was there even more to diis? Had Cyrus been especially interested in my 
daughter? He had seemed to know who I was when we first met, and if he was, as I 
intermittendy suspected, part of Vlad's planned revenge on me, then seizing 
Antonia would be doubly sweet, since he was already furious with me. Any of 
several people could have told him I was Antonia's fadierTheodora's neighbors, 
even the Lady Maria, who had been so uncharacteristically closedmouthed since 
coming home. Was summoning die rest of the children both generalized revenge and 
also a chance to conceal his nefarious plans for one particular child?
236
C. Dale Brittain
I flew over the walls of die royal casde and went straight to the Lady Justinias 
chambers. "I need your flying carpet, my lady," I said with minimal effort 
toward politeness. "And I need it now."
Her automaton leaned threateningly toward me. "This is passing abrupt, O 
Wizard," Justinia said coolly. "The carpet is mine, given me by the mage 
Kaz-alrhun for my own transportation to safety, not for the convenience of 
western wizards and their daughters."
I didn't have time to explain properly or to respond to the sarcastic note in 
her voice. "Antonia's been kidnapped by an evil wizard, and I have to go after 
her."
Justinia immediately looked much more sympathetic. "She is always getting 
herself into one difficulty or another, of a certainty! I give tliee leave, 
then, to use my carpet to help in die search for her, on uiis condition: that I 
myself accompany thee."
I didn't hav<3 time to argue. All I said was, "In diat case, please leave your 
automaton behindlast time it tried to kill me." It already seemed as diough 
hours rather dian minutes must have passed since the pigeon-messages arrived at 
die nunnery. We dragged die carpet, widi die automaton's help, out into the 
courtyard. Gwennie and Paul, hearing die commotion, came running.
The king must have gotten the details from Gwennie. "I will help you, of 
course," he said, very sober and. very concerned. "Move over. Are diere handles 
or anything on diis diing?"
"You just sit on it and hope it doesn't tip," said Gwennie from experience.
I didn't want diem along but I really didn't have time to argue. The automaton 
glided nervously around die courtyard, and Justinias elephant trumpeted from the 
stables, angry at being left behind. The flying carpet
Dauchter of Magic                          237
shot off toward Caelrhon carrying, besides die foreign princess to whom it 
actually belonged, die king, die constable, and the wizard of Yurt.
V
"When I couldn't reach you," said Theodora, fighting to keep her voice steady, 
"I telephoned Elerius. He seemed to know who I was widiout my having to tell 
him. I know you don't trust him, Daimbert, but you've always said he's die best 
wizard of your generation, and" Her mouth quivered, making it impossible for 
her to go on.
I put an arm tight around her. "We'll find her. Everything will be just fine." I 
wished I believed it myself.
"And the mayor's just phoned the royal wizard of Caelrhon," she continued, 
trying to compose herself. "It turns out fhat die Princess Margareta is among 
die missing."
"Poor kid," said Paul, showing unexpected sympathy for die girl he mostiy 
referred to in die context of not wanting to marry her. "She must be terrified. 
And she's started developing a woman's formwhat will an evil magic-worker want 
witli her?"
"Come on. We'll find them," I said widi a desperate effort to sound assured. 
"Cyrus won't be able to bide from three wizards."
The carpet shot off into die air again and out over the city walls. I had probed 
for and not found any lingering trace of Cyrus's magic by which we might have 
followed him. He'd covered his tracks, which meant we had to assume the children 
could be anywhere. There might once have been footprints, but any physical 
traces of dieir passage had been obscured by die feet of desperate parents. The 
fields near die city were duck widi die citizens of Caelrhon, shouting dieir 
children's
238
C. Dale Brittain
names, thrashing their way through clumps of bushes, dragging every body of 
water. A few looked up and pointed as we sailed past.
It was a good thing, I thought, that the Romneys had been gone for two weeks. 
Odierwise the people who had already been suspected, at least by some, of 
setting fire to the high street and of bringing the rats to town would probably 
find themselves killed by hysterical parents.
"I hope the Thieves' Guild in Xantium does not learn of this stratagem," 
commented Justinia. "They could win an exceeding number of concessions from my 
grandfather the governor in return for the city's children."
"It's all my fault, Daimbert," said Theodora, breaking down completely. "I told 
her she could spend the day with Jen. I should never have let her out of my 
sight. Will you ever forgive me?"
"It's not your fault," I murmured, holding her close. "There's nothing you could 
have done. The piping would have drawn her just as surely as it drew all the 
other children. *
We were now some two miles from the city, beyond where the parents were beating 
the underbrush. They probably assumed their children could not have gone far. I, 
on the other hand, realizing the force of a summoning spell, knew that they 
would have kept running, following the piper, even with their legs worn down to 
bloody stumps. "We'll circle the city by air, and if we don't see them on the 
first circuit we'll go out a few more miles and try again." My attempt to sound 
calm and rational was a failure in my own ears. "That many children can't have 
disappeared without a trace."
The flying carpet turned at Justinia's command and briskly traced a wide circle 
around Caelrhon. All of us lay flat, our heads over the edge, desperately 
searching
Daughter of Magic                          239
the land below with our eyes. Gwennie and Justinia, on either side of the king, 
kept giving each other surreptitious glances over his head, but I had no time 
for them. .
I had never realized before how much forest covered the hilltops and river 
valleys of the kingdom of Caelrhon, dense stands of trees that could have hidden 
hordes of children and were impervious to my magic unless I probed each clump 
individually. In spite of a far-seeing spell my vision kept blurringwind, I 
told myself.
We saw notliing on the first circuit and started on a second, larger circuit. 
How much time, I tried to calculate, since Cyrus's piping had summoned the 
children? The sun was well down the western sky. They could be^miles from home 
by now, or they could be concealed in some cave only a short distance from town. 
On this circuit we spotted the towers of the royal castle of CaelrhonEvrard, I 
thought, was probably now somewhere looking for us. Well, let him and Elerius 
start their own hunt. I had no time to try to make contact with them. Maybe 
they'd have better luck than we were having.
Gwennie nudged me. "Wizard," she said in a whisper, "don't you think it just a 
little suspicious that someone you say knows eastern magic should show up in 
Caelrhon at the same time as an eastern princess shows up in Yurt? Especially 
since she seemed to know Antonia was your daughter before anyone else did?"
"I don't find it suspicious at all," I whispered back. Justinia had done nothing 
I could see to make me suspect her of evil. She was just a woman in hiding from 
her enemieswho, assuming the undead warriors and the wolf had been aimed at me 
rather than her, had so far hidden successfully.
&#9632;"Wizard," said Paul briskly as the flying carpet approached our starting point 
again, "I know this is
240                           C. Dale Brittain
the most systematic way to search the whole area, but we'll only be able to spot 
them if they're out in the open. And it's going to be dark before very long. 
It's time to make a guess and go that way."
"What do you suggest?" I asked bleakly.
"The river road heading upstream from the city. It's a good road, so even 
children could travel fast on it, and it's tree-shaded most of the way. Because 
it's not a major trade route, Cyrus might hope he wouldn't meet anyone to bring 
the tale to Caelrhon. If we fly low we may be able to pick up something."
It was worth a try. We swooped down over the treetops and swung back near the 
city, then started following the road from just beyond where the parents were 
dragging the river. Justinia ordered the carpet to fly more slowly, and I probed 
magically as we flew, trying without success to pick up some indication that the 
children had come this way.
The direction we were following took us slowly and obliquely toward Yurt. After 
several miles the road emerged from the trees and ran a short distance in the 
open, among meadows where cows grazed unconcernedly. Justinia set the carpet 
down, and Paul and I leaped off.
The road was hard-surfaced, but the margins were damp from the proximity of the 
water meadows. "Lots of feet," said Paul, "an enormous number of feet just 
today. And look. Most of them are very small."
"Then you were right, sire," I said, springing back onto the carpet, suddenly 
feeling enormously more hopeful. "We may still catch them by nightfall."
The carpet moved faster now. If Cyrus kept to the road, we should be able to 
hear the children even if we did not see them, as long as we stayed close over 
the treetops. It was a good thing we had the carpet, I thought, or my own flying 
powers would have been exhausted hours ago.
Dauchter of Magic                    241
Theodora still sat disconsolately, but Paul audi stared eagerly ahead. Gwennie, 
who had taken Theodora's Viand reassuringly, looked up at me. "Is there any 
chance Antonia has turned Cyrus into a frog?"
"What?!"
"When she stayed in my chambers, she boasted she knew how to do transformations. 
Does she?"
I looked inquiringly at Theodora but she shook her head. "Not that I know of," I 
said. "It would certainly make things easier if she did." But even as I spoke I 
thought that if Cyrus knew she was my daughter, he might be especially careful 
around her and have counter-spells all arranged. I kept probing for his mind, 
but he must have his counter-spells all ready for me as well.
Justinia suddenly shivered. "I still am not accustomed to what ye of the West 
call summer weather. It is scarce this cold in Xantium in winter!"
She was right. Although I hadn't been noticing, after being hot all day the air 
had rapidly grown cooler. Ahead of us, dark storm clouds loomed, trailing 
curtains of rain. "It's going to be dark even sooner than we thought," said Paul 
concernedly.
"Not if I have anything to say about it," I replied grimly and started on 
weather spells. Did this mean, then, that Vlad had finally arrived? And if so, 
had Cyrus taken the children of Caelrhon straight to him?
The clouds began at once to lift, but in a moment they rolled together again, 
and lightning flashed directly
in front of us.
"There's a mind behind this weather," I said through my teeth, "and he's very 
close. Theodora, do you know any weather spells?"
She shook her head, still not speaking. But Gwennie asked her with interest, "Do 
you know magic too? I hadn't realized that. Are diere women wizards, then? Or 
are you a witch?"
242
C. Dale Brittain
All of Theodora's and my secrets were now on display. It hardly seemed to 
matter.
I redoubled my spells, trying to force the storm clouds apart. But someone 
enormously powerful was trying just as hard to keep them together. This had 
better not be Vlad, I thought with the grim conviction that it was. I had 
overcome his weather spells twice, but the first time, in the eastern kingdoms, 
he had been badly wounded, and the other time, just before I met his wolf, he 
had still been a great many miles away.
The others huddled together in the middle of the carpet as tie temperature 
continued to drop. The king had his arms and wide cloak around both Gwennie and 
Justinia, though looking only at the latter, a faint smile at the corners of his 
mouth.
Cold rain started falling, first a few drops, then a downpour. Rivulets of water 
ran down our hair and clothes and across the carpet to drip off the edge. "This 
was my finest silk dress," announced Justinia, "but now it is ruined." We flew 
on, slowly now, through heavy darkness as thunder rumbled around us. I wondered 
uneasily what a direct lightning strike would do to a flying carpet.
As near as I could tell through cloud and rain, we were approaching the 
headwaters of the river that flowed through the city of Caelrhon. The road 
veered away as die ground rose abrupdy into rocky cliffs. Justinia, huddled in 
on herself and shivering in spite of Paul's arm, muttered that I might as well 
fly die carpet myself. We circled once over tlie tops of die cliffs, tben I 
directed die carpet to follow die road out across die plateau.
Theodora suddenly stirred. "Daimbert!" she cried excitedly. "I diink I've found 
her! I've found Antonia! She's alive!" Paul and I let out identical triumphant 
whoops. I
Daughter of Magic                          243
turned die carpet at once to head back toward die cliffs, where she said she had 
sensed our daughter's mind.
But now she seemed confused. Probing myself, I found no hint of any humans in 
die vicinity. "But I know I sensed her," Theodora said doggedly. "Unless it's 
some kind of trick"
"Wait a minute," said the king, peering over the edge of die carpet at die 
nearly invisible naked rock below us. "There's supposed to be a casde here."
"What casde?" I cried.
"There's always been a ruined castle right below us, on top of tiiese cliffs," 
said Paul patiently, trying unsuccessfully to wipe rainwater from his face. "Or 
at least I assume it hasn't always been ruinedbut it must have been since die 
Black Wars. We're close to die border of die kingdom of Yurt here. This is die 
casde I told you about tiiat I was exploring earlier in the summer."
I did remember now tiiat he mentioned it. "Well, you must be mistaken," I said 
wearily, not even trying to wipe die streams of water from my face. "I know it's 
hard to tell distances from die air."
Suddenly I stopped and grinned. Maybe we had them after all.
"You're absolutely right, sire. A ruined castie would be exacdy die place to 
hide a large group of children. And all die easier if you're a wizard with die 
powerful spells to make a whole casde invisible." Vlad's obsidian castie in the 
eastern kingdoms had been invisible unless he wanted someone to see it. If it 
weren't for Theodora's witch-magic breaking through his defenses for a brief 
moment, and for Paul's knowledge of local geography, we would have gone right by 
these cliffs without a second
look. "Now I just have to find die way in," I said fiercely.
244
C. Dale Brittain
Antonia was still alive. "The casde's stones are here though hidden, and we 
could rip the carpet landing on a jagged wall even if we can't see it." With the 
heavy darkness and the rain, we wouldn't have been able to see much of the casde 
even without a spell of invisibility. "Down at the bottom of the cliffs," said 
Paul, "there's a back entrance that was probably where they once brought up 
goods from the river." I immediately directed die carpet slowly downward. Rain 
was now falling so hard it bounced from die carpet's surface. "Do you think, 
Wizard," the king added as we descended, "that they'll know we've arrived?" 
"They'll have a pretty good idea," I said shordy. Would it just be Cyrus we had 
to face, I wondered as I gendy landed die carpet amid jagged rocks that must 
have fallen from a ruined wall above, or did he have Vlad with him now? And had 
diese two dark wizards brought a demon along?
"The rest of you had better stay outside," I said quiedy setting my jaw 
determinedly. "I don't know how long diis may take. But if I'm not back by dawn, 
Justinia, take die carpet and"
But none of them wanted to be left behind. Theodora cared as little about her 
personal safety as I cared about mine when it came to Antonia, and Paul flady 
refused to wait patiently for the adventurers' return. Justinia insisted she 
would freeze to deadi if forced to stay out in the driving rain for five more 
minutes, and Gwennie had no intention of being left alone on a night of magical 
darkness and hidden evil.
It was going to be hard enough to get myself out of this alive without worrying 
about all of them. I should have dumped them all off miles ago. But then I would 
never have located die casde. "Come on," I said. "Let's try to find die way in."
PART SEVEN
The Ruined Castle I
"Here's the door, Wizard," called Paul, feeling his way along a cliff face 
streaming with water. "I can't see it but I can touch it." Standing next to him 
I could feel it as well, a half-open old door, falling from its hinges, witii a 
musty passage beyond.
I had groped for and found pieces of driftwood that had come ashore here where 
cascades from the hills above flowed together to form the river: torches if we 
could discover a way inside out of the storm. "Hold hands," I told die odiers 
over the rumbling of thunder, and led diem straight into and straight through 
what looked, in what litde light we had from lightning flashes, like unbroken 
rock. Theodora was right behind me, and I could feel die bite of her fingernails 
as we passed dirough the illusion of solid cliff face, but no one spoke until we 
were all inside and wringing out our hair.
At least tiiis casde was perfecdy visible once we were within the walls. "God be 
praised, it is dry in here," said die Lady Justinia.
Paul blew out the air between his lips and commented,
245
246
C. Dale Brittain
"Glad you never decided to make my royal castle invisible, Wizard."
Theodora and I lit the torches with fire magic; they never would have burned 
properly without a spell. With me in front and she in back, we started 
cautiously up the tunnel before us. The torchlight showed a shadowed and dismal 
passage, hung with dusty festoons of cobweb, its floor strewn with rubbish where 
animals had denned.
"It's not very far," Paul said in a low voice, "a straight way leading slightly 
upward, and then the big storage cellars. It's possible the children are there."
Sitting in the dark, I thought, in utter terror. Would we see them even if they 
were there, or would they be as invisible as the casde itself was from the 
outside?
The light flickered on the uneven walls, and our footsteps echoed hollowly. It 
really would be night soon, I thought, and the night would be Vlad's, with 
nothing to stop him before the dawn. The weight of the cliffs above seemed to 
press down on us, and a fetid odor rose in the stale air from beneath our feet.
I kept straining, both with my ears and my magic, for indications of life, and 
at first found nothing, either good or evil. The sound of the thunder was very 
distant here, and I could hear nothing beyond our footsteps and our rapid 
breathing. Were the children even in this casde, or was it all an elaborate 
feint? But after only a few dozen yards I picked up the sound of distant 
moaning.
We came to an abrupt halt. "Antonia!" Theodora whispered.
But I shook my head. "Wait," I whispered back. The floor before us came alive in 
the torchlight: glossy black cockroaches, spiders, and a six-foot viper that 
looked at us with glittering eyes, then slithered away. Gwennie was at my 
shoulder, and I could feel her trembling. In
Daughter of Magic                          247
any of the others' position, I would have run screaming back down the 
passageway, with a new appreciation for spending the night in the pouring rain, 
but no one moved.
Then, faint in the distance, I picked up a sound like the rattling of dry bones.
"What was that?" hissed Paul.
"Oh, Christ," I said, mostly under my breath. It sounded to me exactly like a 
skeletal apparition, the residue of death and evil left over in this old casde 
from the time of the Black Wars, now given life by a demon. It seemed to be 
getting closer.
The slightest whiff of brimstone, I said to myself, and I'm gone.
As if in response, the roughly quarried stones on either hand rapidly began to 
grow warmer. Justinia, in relief, started to lean against the wall, but she 
pulled away with a sharp intake of breath as it grew hotter and hotter. Raw 
horror, even beyond what was rational given what I had just seen and heard, 
seemed to roll down die tunnel toward us. And wafting through the air came a 
small cloud of stinking smoke, poisonous yellow in the torchlight.
"Right," said a rational voice in the back of my brain. "Zahlfast can't argue 
with you anymore. Time for the demonology experts. Fly the carpet back to Yurt 
and telephone the school."
"And when will they arrive?" I asked myself testily.
"Tomorrow," said the rational voice, sounding less certain. "And in the 
meantime, while we're waiting, you can try to locate Elerius and Evrardthey 
must be around somewhere, looking for you." But I couldn't wait for tomorrow. 
Antonia was in this casde now.
And could she and all the other children be sitting, not just in the dark, but 
in a dark they shared with vipers, with brimstone, with skeletal apparitions, 
and with a
248                           C. Dale Brittain
demon that was even now killing them one by one with terror?
"No, of course not," babbled the rational voice. "Cyrus loves children. He may 
use a demon to help his magic, but he doesn't want to hurt them. He's always 
wanted the children to love him back."
The voice had a point. If Antonia was indeed still alive, then Cyrus must have 
brought the children here for a reason, rather than dumping them into the first 
convenient widening in the river. He therefore wanted them for some specific 
purposeransoming perhaps, or a refined revengeeven if he did not love them for 
diem selves.
And I therefore had to find them before his purpose took effect.
This mental argument with myself had taken only a few seconds. 'The children are 
not in the big storage cellars," I said in a low voice, not mentioning what I 
was fairly sure was there. "Sire, is there any other way up to the rest of the 
casde widiout going through die cellars?"
"There's a narrow staircase on the left," said Paul, "just a little farther on." 
I noticed he'd drawn his sword not that it would do any good. "It's partially 
blocked by fallen stone, but it's passable."
"Theodora," I said, "light die others back to the doorway and stay there until I 
get back. And if"
But it was no use. In spite of what we had seen so far, and in spite of having 
to assert dirough chattering teeth that diey were not at all frightened, Paul 
and Theodora had not given up dieir intention of accompanying me. Gwennie and 
Jusfinia claimed they preferred staying widi the rest of us, even if it meant 
advancing dirough giant cockroaches, to waiting alone widi hot walls and die 
moaning and clattering and no magic to keep a damp torch lit. Three of diem, not 
knowing magic, might not
Daughter of Magic                     249
be as susceptible as I was to the disembodied and demonic terror pouring out of 
die storage cellarsbut Theodora was.
No time to argue. "Then let's hurry," I said and strode forward. Pushing against 
waves of horror was like pushing against the tide. I kept my feet moving widi 
sheer will. The ratding of bones kept coming closer, as insects scurried out 
from underfoot. Paul's narrow stairway was an empty black opening in the tunnel 
wall.
Good dung it wasn't any farther or I might not have made it. I felt inside the 
opening witii my handnot as warm as the tunnel where we stood. When I dirust in 
die torch it was to see worn and cracked stone stairs spiraling upwards. There 
would be halls, chambers, and passages higher up, some certainly roofless, but 
some doubdess still whole, and Antonia had to be up there.
I led die way again, climbing as quickly as I could on die uneven steps, my 
heart pounding wildly. The staircase was so narrow diat diere was scarcely room 
for my shoulders between the stone central post and die outer curved wall. A 
little rivulet of water found its way down die spiral, making surfaces slick and 
forcing me to be careful when I wanted to do nodiing but run and run. The 
moaning and die ratding faded behind us. Someone slipped but caught diemselves 
after a hard diump.
"Do you think the children had to climb all diese stairs?" Gwennie whispered.
"I'm sure they were brought in the front way," I whispered back. Wild terror 
receded as we climbed unfortunately rational terror did not. "But we couldn't 
even find the front way, and I'm still hoping we can get to wherever they're 
being held widiout being discovered."
I spoke confidently, but whatever hope I had was a desperate one. Someone who 
went to die trouble to
250                           C. Dale Brittain
make his castle invisible and to surround it with dark clouds would certainly 
have set up spells to detect a wizard sneaking in.
How far had we come? It was impossible to tell distances, except to know that we 
had climbed high enough that my legs were aching. My wet clothes had begun 
drying on my back into clammy stiffness. This had once been an expensive black 
wool suit, I recalled, bought just for Celia s vocation at the nunnery.
Ahead I thought I could pick up the smell of rain-washed air over the general 
mustiness, and then I began to hear a louder dripping. We came around a twist of 
the stair and saw Paul's "partial blockage" before us.
Part of the wall had collapsed inward, leaving a gaping opening looking out into 
night. Rain still lashed down. I redoubled the fire spell on my torch and put it 
and my head outsidestill sheer cliff above and below, but we must be getting 
close to the top.
The collapsed wall covered the staircase with chunks of stone, but beyond it 
continued to spiral upwards. The stones east heavy shadows in the torchlighthad 
that been another viper? No, I tried to reassure myself, just another shadow.
"You have to climb carefully over the loose stones," said Paul. "It was daylight 
when I did this before, but"
I stopped him and lifted myself with magic to fly up and over. One at a time I 
then lifted Gwennie, Paul, and Justinia to bring them past the obstacle and up 
beside me. Theodora flew unaided, holding the flaring torch well away from 
herself. Gwennie, impressed, started to say something but didn't.
Flying spells, I thought as Theodora found her footing, would announce to any 
wizard paying attention that another wizard had arrived. I would feel more 
comfortable about this if I could pick up the slightest
Daughter of Magic                     251
trace of himor if I didn't keep imagining what might already be working its way 
up the stairs behind us, heating the stones as it came until the rivulets of 
dark water vanished into steam.
"We're almost there," said Paul quietly. "We'll come out in what was once the 
kitchen. The roof is long gone, but there's another passagestill covered:that 
should take us to the great hall in the central keep. That's the most intact 
part of the castle: the children may be there." A final turn of the stair, and 
we staggered out onto a level if gritty surface, next to an enormous fireplace. 
Ducking under the stone mantel to shelter from the rain, now falling harder than 
ever, we all paused to catch
our breaths.
I kept straining to pick up any sound over the rain's steady drumming or any 
magical indication of who else was in this ruined castle, but still found 
nothing. I lifted an eyebrow at Theodora, but she shook her head. "I haven't 
sensed ber again since that one time."
"This way," said Paul. Back under an arched roof, we tried to walk quietly, but 
five sets offset on flagstones sent echoes running up and down the passage 
around
!us. The light from our torches was too dim to see any distance ahead or behind, 
though it made our shadows on the stone walls grotesque and gigantic. little 
puffs of wind tugged at our damp hair. Suddenly the torches went out. We all 
crashed together in the dark, then Theodora and I desperately tried to relight 
them. It was no use. Plenty of unburned wood remained, but our fire spells no 
longer seemed effective. And then, down the passageway ahead of us, I saw a 
small yellow light, like a candle flame. As we all held our breaths we could 
hear the steady tap of approaching
feet. The dead torch fell from stiff fingers. "No use
running," I said quietly. "They've found us."
252                              C. Dale Brittain
&#9830;-&#9632;<$--.&#9830;
Paul and I stood with the women behind us, waiting for whomever was coming. The 
cold knot in my stomach already knew. Someone dressed in black satin emerged 
from the shadows. Just before he came close enough to pick out the features on 
the white face, Paul gave a sudden, startled grunt and dropped his sword.
I looked down. The blade had transformed itself into a black and white striped 
snake that now slithered away. Paul reached for die knife at his belt but I 
nudged him and shook my head.
The person kept on'coming. I could see his face now clearly, dead white, split 
by a smile that showed an unusually large number of sharp teeth. One of the 
cheeks was just a little crooked; the eyes, behind half-lowered translucent 
lids, were expressionless stones.
"Daimbert, we meet again," he said in a friendly tone.
One of the women behind me gave a brief moan of terror. I took a deep breath. 
"Greetings, Prince Vlad," I said.
II
"As I recall," he said, looking me up and down and still smiling, "we had not 
finished our negotiations when you left my casde so abruptly, the last time we 
met. I believe I was explaining to you why you should bring me the treasure from 
the eastern deserts that a certain ruby ring would reveal. . . ."
As I recalled it, when we had last met I had nearly killed him and he had called 
down curses on my retreating back. But if he wanted to talk for a while before 
he murdered me that was fineit gave me time to try desperately to think of a 
way to get the others out of here.
"You were about to agree to bring whatever you found
Dauchteh of Magic                       253
back to me," he continued. I wished he wouldn't keep showing his teeth as he 
talked, or that his stone eyes would blink, or something. "Since you still 
appear to be the Royal Wizard of Yurta tiny kingdom which, I shall gladly 
admit, was very hard to findand have no startling new powers, I assume you 
didn't find it. Well, I am here now, ready to forget our little differences in 
the past, even ready to give you some assistance if you want to look for the 
treasure again."
For a second I considered agreeing with him, telling him that I would be happy 
to have his company searching the East for treasure, and that when we split what 
we
I found I would even let him have the larger share. But I dismissed this as a 
ploy. Spending weeks or months crossing the eastern kingdoms and the deserts 
beyond by night, probably with all the others brought along as hostages for my 
good behavior, and then having to explain to Vlad at the end why there was 
nothing there to find, would only postpone the problem.
"It's no use, Prince," I said, trying to keep die tremor from my voice. "We 
found it fifteen years ago, even widiout your assistance. But both die treasure 
itself and the ruby ring diat unlocked its secrets are now gone beyond recovery, 
sunk in the deepest part of the Outer Sea."
A faint expression of disappointment passed over his white features. Under diat 
living mask, I thought, must be the face'of a corpse.
"Then we shall need to discuss other arrangements," he said suavely, "by which 
you and the kingdom of Yurt might compensate me properly for what you have done 
to me over the years. Otherwise, I shall have to kill you. Nothing personal, of 
course!" holding up a white hand. "Just scientific curiosity: how long does it 
take a western wizard to die? And of course sound political practice: I would 
not want it known widely in the eastern
C. Dale Brittain
kingdoms that someone had done to me what you did and gotten away with it.
"But I am forgetting my manners!" he continued, turning toward the others. His 
very politeness made it even worse. "Who are these friends you brought with 
you?"
"Don't tell him!" I said sharply. This intrigued Vlad. "So at least one of them 
is someone important," he said thoughtfully, "someone in whom I might be very 
interested if I knew their identity. Let me look at them." He lifted his candle 
higher, and his pebble eyes looked us over. "A rather bedraggled group, I must 
say. I had hoped for a minute for a member of the royal family itself, but no. . 
. ."
Just when I thought diat Pauls creased and filthy tunic had fooled him he shot 
an arm past me and put his hand on Justinia's shoulder.
"But this one!" he said triumphandy. "She is darker complexioned than most of 
you in die west, and this was once an extremely expensive silk garment. Much 
more than a townswoman looking for her lost children. Who then could she be?"
He stretched it out, enjoying the suspense. Lost children, I thought, 
desperately trying to find reason for hope. Then diey reaBy were here in the 
ruined casde! But where were they, and where was Cyrus?
Justinia shrank away from Vlad's touch, but her almond-shaped eyes flashed. I 
was afraid she would tell him defiandy that she was a governors granddaughter, 
but she had been brought up amidst intrigue. "My name is of but the smallest 
import to thee," she shot at him.
"A Xantium accent!" said Vlad, even more interested. "That I find most unusual. 
Could she be . . . ?"
Paul grabbed the wizard s arm to wrench it away from Justinia, but Vlad lifted 
the littie finger on his other hand and the king staggered backwards, doubled 
over in pain.
Dauchter of Macic                          255
"Do not interrupt me," Vlad said chidingly. "She is clearly important, a 
princess perhaps?" He enjoyed the suspense a moment longer, then said, "I think, 
my lady, that you are none other than Justinia, granddaughter of the governor of 
Xantium! The Thieves' Guild is looking very hard for you."
Paul, gray-faced in the candlelight, caught his breath and wiped sweat from his 
forehead but showed no sign of trying anything else.
"And who informed thee I was here?" Justinia snapped. "Who hath betrayed me?"
"Vlad widened his mouth in a tooth-filled smile. "Then you are the Lady 
Justinia! Thank you for confirming my guess. The Guild will pay me extremely 
well for discovering you."
She pulled her lips together angrily, either at him or at herself for letting 
herself be taken by such an old trick. The mage Kaz-alrhun had entrusted 
Justinia to me, I thought bitterly, and I had brought her straight to someone 
who would deliver her to her worst enemies.
"When they could not find you in Xantium, my lady," Vlad continued pleasandy, 
"they put out the information all over the East that diey were looking for you. 
News even crossed the Central Sea and the mountains to reach my own litde 
principality. A rumor or a guess that you might have fled to the western 
kingdoms was all they had to go on. I promised, of course, to help in the search 
for you during my own quest to the kingdom of Yurt. The Guild should pay me 
enough when I deliver you to them that I may be able to buy the services of 
Xantium's greatest mages, thus making up at least in part for the loss of that 
which Daimbert so carelessly let disappear in die Outer Sea."
"If thy plan is to hire Kaz-alrhun to assist thee in making the simulacrum of 
life from dead flesh and bones," said Justinia haughtily, "thou shalt be most
C. Dale Brittain
gravely disappointed. These are forbidden arts, and even the greatest of Xantium 
s mages will not follow their dark ways."
"He may change his mind when he sees the Guild's money," suggested Vlad.
"By now," I interrupted, "Kaz-alrhun must have all the money he could possibly 
want and more."
Vlad dismissed these concerns with a shrug. "Then my money shall buy whatever 
does still interest him." He took a step backwards and motioned with his arm, 
like a genial host inviting in his guests. "In the meantime, I need to keep you 
safeI am quite sure you will be worth more to the Guild alive than dead. And 
all these other people may have secrets of their own. If not, I shall still want 
to keep them secure until after Daimbert and I have finished our, shall we say, 
negotiations." He blinked once. "Perhaps there is some personal feeling after 
all in what I would like to do to Daimbert. Some of that feeling might be 
assuaged by giving him the opportunity to watch his friends die slowlybut that 
is a matter for later. Come with me, and I shall take you to a dry chamber."
The second he turned his back I threw together a spell of light that should have 
lit up the passage in a blinding flash. light, the light that broke down the 
magic of blood and bone, was the only weapon I had against him.
But the words of the Hidden Language twisted and turned to dust before I could 
finish formulating them. "I must say I am disappointed, Daimbert," said Vlad 
without turning around. "How could you have tliought I would not be prepared for 
the spell with which you defeated me last time?"
We reluctantiy followed Vlad, holding tight to each other, because there didn't 
seem much else to do. The chattering of my teeth was due to much more dian the
Daughter of Magic                          257
chill of die night, and from the sound of Theodora's breadi she was again on die 
verge of hysterical tears.
Lit only by Vlad's candle, the tunnel was nearly black, but at least I saw no 
giant cockroaches and heard no bones rattling. The demon must still be down in 
die bottom of die casde. The children had better not be down there witii it.
Vlad opened a heavy oak door and motioned us within. "I am afraid I moved into 
diis casde very recendy," he said apologetically, "and have not yet had a chance 
to install suitable furnishings." The candle showed a cold and empty but dry 
room, its only window very far up and much smaller than a human could squeeze 
through.
As he motioned die odiers inside, lightning flashed for a second from the high 
window, followed by a sharp clap of diunder. Vlad flinched at the lightning. 
"Your weadier is not as tractable as I had hoped," he said. "I wanted clouds but 
not lightning. I am afraid we shall have to postpone our conversation at least 
briefly, Daimbert, until I have restored suitable conditions. You will be so 
good as to wait for me, I am sure."
He handed me die candle and slammed die door, and I heard die bolt going across. 
His feet tapped away down die corridor.
All of us let out shuddering breatiis. I counted to twenty to give Vlad time to 
get away, dien started on a lifting spell to slide die bolt back again. But it 
was no use; he had put a magic lock on it.
"Shall we try kicking die door down?" suggested Paul, his jaw set.
"A magic lock strengdiens die door itself as well as die locking mechanism," I 
said, shaking my head and dunking fast "But we might be able to set it on fire"
I immediately began working on fire spells, and Theodora, who had been trembling 
and clinging to Gwennie, took a deep breatii and started on her own
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C. Dale Brittain
magic. But our spells were no more effective on die door than they had been on 
our torches. Vlad must have wanted to be sure there were no sources of light in 
his casde other than the small candles he lit himself. We were safe and even dry 
for the moment, safe from Vlad, safe from the demon. But the safety only lasted 
until Vlad returned. And I still had no idea how, even if we escaped alive, I 
was going to find Antonia.
"How about the window?" said Paul, low and urgent. There was another lightning 
flash and more thunder. Good, I mentally said to the weather. Keep Vlad occupied 
as long as possible.
"I could transform us all into birds so we could fly out," I suggested 
halfheartedly. Keep thinking, I told myself. Don't dwell on the demon 
downstairs. Don't think about how evil Vlad is. Think of a plan. "But I couldn't 
shape the words of the Hidden Language as a bird, so we'd all have to stay 
transformed unless another wizard realized who we really were and broke the 
spell. Or I could transform the rest of you and stay behind, and then, when you 
were all safely through the window break the spell from in here. ..."
"Leaving us sitting on the roof in the storm?" asked Paul.
"No," I agreed, "we'd all still be trapped. Maybe all becoming birds is still 
the best plan. We'll get away from here and wait somewhere along the road for 
Eleriushe's bound to find this castle eventually," I heard myself babbling. 
"And when he comes maybe we can spell out a message in birdseed or something. 
..." "This is the most stupid plan I have ever had assail my ears," said 
Justinia, her voice ragged.
Theodora took my arm. "Vlad has not harmed us yet
in spite of his threats, and we know we must be close to
the children." At least she didn't say my plan was stupid.
We huddled together in a corner, my arms around
Daughter of Magic                          259
Theodora, Paul again with an arm each around Gwennie and Justinia. A corner of 
my mind was interested to note how social conventions did not stand up against 
true danger; this was not a king embracing a foreign princess and his own cook's 
daughter, but three people trying to deny their fear by clinging together 
desperately. Rain pounded above our heads, and the candle flickered as the wind 
blew in. For a minute the storm seemed to be weakening, but then three lightning 
flashes in a row cast glaring blue light into the room. Vlad should be occupied 
for a while yet.
Justinia seemed to be struggling between fury and despair. "I should have been 
far wiser than to let Kaz-alrhun ever send me into the western kingdoms," she 
muttered. "I should have known that I would stand out to die first person who 
came seeking me, and that the local magic-workers would have no protective 
spells."
I declined to mention that if she had let me take the carpet myself she would 
now be safely home in Yurt.
"Perhaps the path of wisdom is to cast myself from this castle to the rocks 
below," she continued determinedly, "so that the Thieves' Guild will not have a 
live prisoner with which to pressure my grandfather, and so that I need not 
submit to the caresses of a dead man!" Paul held her tighter and made soothing 
soundsas he would to one of his horses, I thought.
"Is he even alive?" Theodora asked quiedy. "And do you know why he captured the 
children?"
"He's alive," I said, "and he's not using the supernatural power of a demon 
himself, but that's all the good I can say about him. I don't know if capturing 
the children was his idea or an independent plan of Cyrus's."
For a minute I paused, waiting for some sort of reaction from Vlad if he were 
listening. But weather spells, I thoughtas well as maintaining his defenses 
against fire and Hght here in the casdemust be taking
260
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all his attention not already devoted to keeping the castle invisible. "I think 
half of his body is made from the flesh of others," I went on, "and much of the 
rest from stone. The flesh must rot; I don't want to think where he gets 
more.... He is aged beyond reckoning, animated only by spells darker and more 
subtie than any I know."
"I remember hearing your tales about him," said Paul, "years ago, when you and 
Father came back from the East." He turned to Justinia with the good-natured 
assumption that she would want to hear the story too. "They were maneuvered, by 
wiles that set the eastern kingdoms aflame with war as I recall, to a black 
obsidian casde. And there lived a princely wizard who had once, a great many 
years earlier, betrayed my uncle, an uncle who died long before I was born."
I nodded slowly. "When we met him in die East he already felt injured by the 
royal family of Yurt, and since dien he's had an especial reason to hate me. He 
has wanted for years to find Yurt."
"And it was the will of God diat he find it when I was tliere," said Justinia 
gloomily.
We fell silent, listening to the thunder continue to rumble around the ruined 
casde. Gwennie suddenly spoke up. "Do you remember, Paul," she said, not 
bothering with his tide, "one time when we were litde, and it started to thunder 
like this, and you put your arm around me like this and told me you'd protect 
me?"
Justinia looked past die king at die other woman, her eyebrows raised as diough 
in approval. He gave a low chuckle. "I certainly do remember. I was just as 
scared as you were but I didn't want to admit it. What would we have beenmaybe 
about five?"
Antonia's age. And there was no one to comfort her.
Theodora shifted and spoke as diough deliberately trying to distract her own 
mind from Antonia. "So Cyrus, you think, is Vlad's pupil?"
Dauchter of Magic                     261
"He must be. The unliving warriors who attacked the royal casde were made by the 
same magic. I think now diat Cyrus was sent into die West as Vlad's agent, to 
find Yurt and to attack die casde for him, and to send word back when he found 
it. If die warriors and die spell of madness in their bonesor the wolf 
succeeded in killing me or the king, all was well; or, if not, Vlad himself 
would soon arrive. At the time I diought diose attacks a litde too easy to 
overcome."
"What do you mean, easy?" protested Theodora. "You were almost killed!"
"Well, yes, but I did overcome diem. I still haven't found a way to oppose 
Vlad's magic direcdy." With this depressing thought we all fell silent.
Then, over the sound of me storm, I heard approaching steps. Here he comes, I 
thought, pushing myself to my feet. If I could take him off somewhere for a 
private conversation, he might not guess who King Paul was, and maybe I could 
stall until morning or until such time as Elerius ever got here
But it was not the regular tapping of Vlad's feet. It was someone running.
He hit the door hard, and dien I felt more than heard a sharp crackle. Blue 
light flared for a second around die doorframe, and I could sense a powerful 
spell breaking up. I hadn't known it was even possible to break a magic lock.
"Elerius?" I called with a wild surge of hope.
The bolt shot back and the door swung open. "No, it's me. Cyrus."
Ill
The otiiers pressed into the doorway behind me. "Where," said Theodora between 
gritted teedi, "have you taken my daughter?"
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"She's fine," said Cyrus with an expansive gesture. "You'll see her very soon. 
But you have to come with me."
I spread my arms protectively, keeping the others back. Paul reached for his 
knife again, but I distracted him with an elbow in his ribs. "We're not going 
anywhere with you, Cyrus," I said defiandy. 'Tou've already tried to kill me 
twice, and you're working with a demon. You denied it to the bishop, but your 
'miracles' owe more to the supernatural power of evil than to the saints. And 
you'd need a demon's power to break Vlad's lock."
He shrugged. "Well, the demon might have helped me there. But he's not with 
mehe's somewhere else," he added vaguely. "And this is the last spell on which 
I'll need his help!"
"Why hast thou come to unlock our door?" said Justinia fiercely. "Didst thou not 
think we would recognize such a trick?"
"No trick! I am here to save your lives. Vlad wants to kill you all, but I 
don't."
How did he, Vlad's accomplice, expect us to believe that he would save us from 
Vlad? The candlelight glittered in his dark eyes. He was, I thought, completely 
mad.
"Dost thou intend instead to obtain all for thyself the reward from the Thieves' 
Guild?" demanded Justinia.
Cyrus shook his head. "I know nothing of the Thieves' Guild. Come at once! All 
of you! You have to trust me if you want to escape. Do you not wish to preserve 
your lives?"
"Well, I do," said Justinia with sudden decision. "I am dead if I stay in Vlad's 
captivity."
"And if you have my daughter," said Theodora, intense and low, "I don't care how 
many demons you're working with."
'Then follow me!" said Cyrus and turned to walk briskly
Daughter of Macic                          263
down the corridor. Justinia and Theodora followed as surely as if he had been 
playing his enchanted pipes, and the rest of us, after only a second's 
hesitation, hurried behind. At least we were no longer locked in, I thought 
grimly.
"Vlad told me he sensed you arriving at his castle, Daimbert," said Cyrus over 
his shoulder. Thunder continued to rumble loudly over our heads. "He says he's 
wanted to see you again for fifteen years! But I was fairly sure his intention 
was evil. That's why I knew I had to provide a distraction in order to rescue 
you."
"You mean the lightning is due to you?"
Cyrus chuckled. "You can do a lot when you've got a demon on your side! The 
thunderstorm shouldn't let up before morning. Of course," he added, "that was 
the next-to-last spell on which I had die demon help me. Breaking the lock was 
the last."
Somebody who had sold his soul to the devil, I thought, didn't stop asking a 
demon for favors. There was always just one more thing. The demon would happily 
provide him all the favors wanted as long as he askedor until the demon became 
bored and decided to play tricks of his own on the man who had summoned him.
We darted down a maze of corridors, several times coming out from under shelter 
into a roofless area where the driving rain soaked us again. I didn't dare use a 
spell to shelter us against die wet for fear of attracting vlad's attention, and 
Cyrus seemed neither to notice nor to care. In a few minutes we reached a wide 
staircase. "You'll be safe here," said Cyrus confidentiy, leading the way up.
"I think the chambers up here were built for a visiting dignitary," said Paul as 
we climbed. "It's some of the newest construction in the castle, and it's rather 
separate from the rest. The roof is still intact."
"You know the castle too?" asked Cyrus, pleased. Paul
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bit his lip, but Cyrus did not ask more. Instead he seemed eager to show us into 
the chambers.
We all stopped and stared. The large room beyond the door at the top of the 
stairs was furnished with soft couches and tapestries, and a fire crackled in 
the fireplace. I blinked and tried the two words that would end an illusion, but 
this was no illusion.
"It should be nice and comfortable for you here," Cyrus said, watching our 
reaction. He was hoping, I thought, for more praise and adulation. "Aren't you 
pleased? Aren't you impressed? And Vlad won't find you. It will be for him as 
though this part of the castle didn't even exist."
"This certainly didn't exist before," said Paul, entering slowly. Justinia, 
however, rushed straight to the fire and held out her hands. The flames seemed 
real enough.
"The demon helped you out again?" I asked cautiously.
'"Of course! It was the second-to-last spell on which I had his help. You'll all 
find some dry clothes on that couch over there. Vlad told me there were some 
people with you, Daimbert, but I wasn't sure how many or what sizes you were, 
but something should fit."
He smiled, his eyes strangely bright. "And if you're still worrying that I'm 
evil just because I occasionally have a demon help me, let me assure you that 
the saints help me as well. You implied that the miracles that made me famous in 
Caelrhon were all demonic, but I'll have you know that rebuilding the burned 
street was due to the saints. I certainly prayed over it, and as I was walking 
home from the cathedral, thinking about it, an angelic messenger came and 
whispered in my ear."
I looked away, feeling sick. The demon had started to toy with him already.
"Now!" Cyrus said cheerily. "I need to go show myself an obedient pupil to Vlad, 
appear to be helping him with his weather spells, so that he won't be 
suspicious.
Daughter of Magic                          265
But I'll return soon. We'll go see the children together when I dothe dear 
little things. You see how much I trust you? I'm not even locking you in!"
He hurried away, leaving us staring at each other. None of us, not even 
Justinia, showed any interest in dry clothes conjured up by a demon. "At first I 
didn't believe it," said Gwennie in a small voice. "But how else could he . . . 
I've never known anyone who sold his soul before."
"Summoning a demon and asking for favors is certainly the surest way to damn 
yourself," I said quietly. "I don't think even the saints can help you then. But 
it's still not the quickest or easiest way to damnation. If Vlad imagines his 
soul can still be saved just because he's stayed clear of demons himself, he may 
have a nasty surprise on Judgment Day. At this point, a demon wouldn't even be 
interested in himno use making bargains for a soul that already belongs to the 
devil."
"If we really aren't locked in," said Paul, trying the door, "let's get out of 
here."
"No," said Theodora, short and hard. I noticed that, under the pressure we all 
felt, she too no longer treated Paul with the respect usually offered a king. 
"He said when he came back he would take us to the children. It may be our only 
chance to find Antonia, and we don't dare make him angry. He and his demon will 
certainly be able to find us wherever we are in the castle, and if he's telling 
the truth then at least for the moment we're safe from Vlad."
I nodded glumly, although the last thing I wanted to do was to wait, in a room 
filled with comforts a demon had provided for us, for a madman: one who had 
imagined that a demon's soft voice in his ear was an angel's, or for that matter 
that there was any way he, with human power alone, could break free of the 
devil.
The three women and I seated ourselves on the couch
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by the fire, our clothes steaming in the heat. The king remained standing, 
tapping his foot, ready for a fight that was not there. "I wonder if I'll ever 
see my sword again," he muttered, "and whether it's still a snake."
"Steel won't do any good against wizards like these," I said resignedly, "much 
less a demon. This castle was ruined by armies during the Black Wars, but the 
same armies that were able to do this much destruction were stopped by wizards 
who had become sickened by the carnageand that was only wizards like me, 
practicing white magic. Come sit down."
The storm continued unabated outside, but in this warm room it seemed far away. 
"I thought Cyrus was a preacher in Caelrhon," said Paul, settling himself 
between Justinia and Gwennie. "Celia said he was studying in die seminary. 
What's he doing practicing black magic?"
"He was a seminary student, all right," I said slowly. "It makes no sense 
whatsoever. It never has. It's almost as if he were two different people, one of 
whom wants to be genuinely pious, and another who has learned magic from Mad and 
relies on a demon's help for his most spectacular effects." I didn't add that it 
looked to me as if the conflict between these two personalities had pushed him 
over the edge into madness.
Theodora roused herself to tell the others about Cyrus's first appearance in 
Caelrhon under the name of Dog-Man, his apparendy miraculous healing of the 
children's toys and pets, and his evolution, once he had been accepted into the 
seminary, into someone who preached Christian doctrine to large and reverent 
crowds.
"And who kidnaps little children," said Paul grimly. "Since they're all from 
Caelrhon they aren't my own subjects, but it doesn't make any difference. It's a 
good thing you didn't try to leave me behind again, Wizard.
Daughter of Macic                          267
I couldn't consider myself a king if I didn't go after someone who did that to a 
group of helpless kids."
I had no idea how Paul and Joachim managed to consider themselves fathers to 
entire kingdoms; I had enough trouble being the father of one five-year-old. 
"Just don't kill Cyrus quite yet, sire," I said. "For one thing, I don't think 
you could. For another, at the moment he's all we've got."
"You-don't trust him, do you, Wizard?" Gwennie said
incredulously.
"Of course not. Not even for a second. The third reason I don't want Paul to 
kill him yet is that I want the pleasure of doing it myself. But in a ruined 
castle now harboring a wizard who is genuinely and unequivocally evil, a demon, 
and my daughter, I've got to use whatever fragile leads we may have to free 
her."
We sat in silence then, listening to die thunder and the fire's crackle. I 
wondered how long we had been in the castle and how many hours there might still 
be of nightor if the clouds would ever lift at all. We may even have dozed a 
little, warm and exhausted, but all our heads came up abruptly when there were 
quick footsteps on the stairs and the door swung open again. "Good, I'm glad you 
didn't try to slip away!" said Cyrus cheerfully. 'Then I would have had the 
trouble of finding you all over again." 'To deliver us to Vlad?" I asked 
fiercely. "Of course not," said Cyrus, coming to warm his own hands at the fire. 
"He still thinks you're locked up where he left you. Weren't you listening? I'm 
trying to protect you! I brought you to this nice room so you'd have a chance to 
start thinking better of me, but it doesn't seem to be working. And you haven't 
even put on the clothes I prepared just for you. You'll have to learn to
trust me." The others looked at me as though expecting me to
268                             C. Dale Brittain
know what to say or do. "If you want us to trust you, Cyrus," I said carefully, 
"then we'll need to understand a little more clearly why you should want to 
rescue us from your master, the man who taught you magic, to whom you brought 
the children of Caelrhon."
"I told you all that back when we first met, Daimbert,"
he said, flashing me a happy, crazed look from his deep-
l          set eyes. "Vlad was my master once, it's true, but when
I entered the seminary at Caelrhon I decided to put
all magic behind me."
'This," I said accusingly, motioning at the comfortable room around us, "does 
not look to me like putting magic behind you. Nor does putting a summoning spell 
on children." Keep him talking, I thought. Find out all I could about him: his 
reasoning, his motivation, his magic. So far I hadn't seen anything that could 
help. I'            "Are you just not paying attention, Daimbert?" he asked
and shook his head in a scolding way. "I really have given up magic. Your bishop 
inspired me. So if I've worked just a few little spells since then ... Have you 
ever worked with a demon yourself?" he added suddenly.
"No." It came out harsher than I intended; I was, after all, trying to seem 
friendly, at least until he took us to Antonia.
"My, you sound dismissive. You're as bad as Vlad. It's quite a challenge, I'll 
tell you! You find yourself doing things you hadn't quite intended, like killing 
a frog and bringing it back to life to impress the little ones. That's why I've 
decided not to do magic at all anymore."
"Are you sure the demon will be as willing to break away from you as you are 
from him?"
"Willpower, that's all it takes," said Cyrus airily. "After all, while I was in 
Caelrhon I often went several weeks without practicing magic of any land. But I 
remember well the arguments Vlad gave me when I first asked
Daughter of Magic                          269
him about black magic. He tried to tell me that he'd never had demonic 
assistance with his spells, that it would be a sign of incompetence if he 
couldn't get results with unaided magic, and that as well as taking your soul 
demons will often make your life miserable even while supposedly granting all 
your wishes. My guess," and he gave a broad wink, "was that Vlad had tried 
himself to interest a demon in helping him and got turned down flat. Why should 
the devil offer anything valuable for a soul already on its way to hell? Mine, 
of course," with a smug smile, "was different."
Something he'd said caught my attention. "Are you sure," I asked cautiously, 
"that Vlad wasn't trying to goad you into summoning a demon because none would 
work with him, or did he still hope to shield himself from the effects of black 
magic? It sounds as though he was hoping to put all the burden on you but get 
the benefits himself." .
"If so, it didn't work," Cyrus replied, still smug. "He did hint that I should 
ask the demon to repair his body for him, but I refused, of course. I knew 
already that I planned to save my soul, and helping such an evil old man 
couldn't do any good!"
"Have you," I asked in amazement, "said any of this to the bishop?"
"Not yet. I intend to surprise him once the saints assure me that I'm truly 
saved."
If this wasn't the only man who could take us to Antonia I would have fled. 
Horror and revulsion filled meboth at him, with his self-absorption, 
complacency, and pathetic belief that he could save his soul through willpower, 
and especially at the demon, who had allowed him to believe he still had the 
slightest chance.
Cyrus became serious suddenly. "I know you've studied magic a lot longer than I 
have, Daimbert, but haven't you sometimes felt its inadequacies?"
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C. Dale Brittain
"Magic," I said carefully, "is part of the same natural forces that shaped the 
world, but even the best wizards can do no more than tug at its edges."
Cyrus looked at me a long moment, and for once his eyes looked both sober and 
sane. "You've put it better than I could. Though I might add, magic s other 
limitation is that it only works in this world. To transcend material 
limitations, you need religion. That's the message I learned in Caelrhon's 
seminary. The bishop will be very happy when he hears I've rescued you."
"What about kidnapping the children?" demanded Theodora. "The bishop wasn't 
happy about that! And you told me you'd take us to them."
"Soon, very soon," he replied, his expression once again wild. "Piping them out 
of town was actually the demon's idea, not mine. It was a good one, though!" 
with a chuckle. "I certainly taught a lesson to all those citizens of Caelrhon 
who couldn't even say thank-you politely after I'd cleared up their rat problem 
for them. But you see, that's the beauty of Christianity. You can sin, but its 
all right if you're penitent and make restitution afterwards."
It sounded to me as though he had not been paying very close attention to basic 
concepts in seminary.
"So I'll make restitution by letting them all go again! I have to tell you, 
Daimbert," with almost a giggle, "that I was especially pleased to get revenge 
on you. It was your meddling that made the bishop distrust me in the first 
place, when my ultimate purpose was always so pure! Once I found out you-had a 
daughter in Caelrhon, I knew my piping would bring her along with the rest. Vlad 
especially thought that was a good ideahe's planning his own revenge, of 
course. It did occur to me that she might know a spell or two, so I was on 
guard. Good thing I was, too! Do you know, Daimbert, she tried to put a 
transformations spell on me?"
Dauchter of Magic                          271
"What have you done with Antonia?" cried Theodora.
"Nothing at all," said Cyrus, turning to look at her. "I haven't even pointed 
her out to Vlad. I just broke her spell before it took effect. Pretty good spell 
for one so small!"
So Antonia did know at least the elements of transformationcould Elerius have 
taught her?
"And of course," Cyrus continued, "I told her very sternly not to try anything 
again with a man who was friends with a demon. Are you then this girl's mother? 
Curious, Daimbert. I had assumed the blonde"with a nod toward Gwennie"was your 
sweetheart."
Gwennie blushed pink, but Cyrus wasn't paying attention. "We should go see the 
children now. Vlad is still occupied with the lightning storm I settled over the 
castle. This has been a fascinating discussion, Daimbert, but I sense your 
sweetheart is growing impatient. Come, and I will take you to where the children 
are hidden."
IV
Again we hurried down stairs, corridors, and twisting passageways, scrambling 
through narrow openings mostly blocked by fallen stone, at one point descending 
a staircase set within a wall: probably once a secret stair before the wall that 
concealed it had fallen. In the damper passages our hands brushed against 
mold-encrusted stones, in dryer ones the sharp, sticky threads of giant cobwebs. 
A distant moaning could have been the wind or could have been the calls of evil 
apparitions of men long dead. At least we never seemed to approach the cellars 
where the demon lurked.
There had to be an easier way, I thought, to get where we were going. Either 
Cyrus was deliberately confusing us or else he was staying out of Vlad's part of 
the casde.
272                              C. Dale Brittain
I tried to keep track of our many turnings and, looking at Paul, tliought he was 
doing the same. It must be easier for himafter all, he had explored this castle 
by daylight.
"Now, you won't be able actually to talk with the little girl," said Cyrus, 
"but"
Theodora whirled on him so fiercely that he backed up a step. "You said we could 
see her! You said she was all right!"
"Yes, yes!" he said quickly. 'Tou can see her, but she won't see you. Vlad has 
imprisoned all the children behind an invisible shield."
I didn't want to dwell on what Vlad's plans might be for them. Would he think 
children's flesh, because younger and fresher, better for rebuilding his body 
than that of adults? "How hard would it be to break this shield?" I asked, 
thinking fast. I might be able to improvise a way to dismantle the spellif 
doing so didn't bring Vlad racing through the castle at once to stop me.
"Very hard," said Cyrus, looking concerned for a moment, but he immediately 
cheered up. "I know! I can have the demon break it!"
"You said you'd done your last demon-assisted spell," Gwennie pointed out, her 
lips white.
"Whoops! So I did. See how difficult it is, Daimbert?" he said, hurrying ahead 
of us through an arcade. 'Tou have to be constantiy alert."
Beyond the arcade was a final passageway, shadowed and reeking with menace. But 
the fight from Cyrus's candle bobbed down it without hesitation, and after a 
second I reached for Theodora's hand and followed. The passage opened onto what 
must have once been a chapel. But die stained glass windows were gone and the 
cracked stone altar had a rooks' nest built on it. Desecrated long since, I 
thoughtno aura of tfie saints lingered here. And in the chapel were the 
children.
Daughter of Magic                     273
There were at least a hundred of them. Theodora threw'herself forward with a 
cry, to be stopped by air turned to glass. I probed the spells even while 
straining to see Antonia beyond die barricade. It was complicated magic, 
seemingly built on different principles than what I had used against the undead 
warriors and the wolf.
The chapel was lit only by a few candles. Most of the children were asleep, 
curled up in heaps like puppies on the stone floor. Their shoes were worn to 
ribbons. The poor kttle things," said Cyrus, as sympathetic as though it hadn't 
been his own piping that had brought them here. "They must be exhausted!"
The few who were awake seemed unable to hear or see us. I spotted the Princess 
Margareta, who must be the oldest person there, sitting with two very small 
children on her knees.
Margareta's slighdy squeaky voice was loud in the ruined chapel. "And of course 
the children were frightened in the dark house," she said in the voice of a 
storyteller. "But they would have been much happier if they had only known that, 
just a few miles away, a brave knight was on his way to rescue them!"
Nobody was going to reseue these children unless I found a way through this 
barrier. I looked toward Theodora, wondering if she might have a possible 
approach with her witch-magic, but she was still trying
to spot Antonia.
The brave knight was very handsome and very strong," Margareta continued. "He 
had blond hair and green eyes, and he rode a red roan stallion." I caught Paul's 
eye; his jaw was set in angry determination.
"But did he rescue the children?" piped up the little boy on her lap. "Of 
course. I'm just coming to that part." Theodora put a hand on my arm. There she 
is." Antonia was on the far side of the room, sitting up
274
C. Dale Brittain
talking to an older boy and drawing a horned figure on the wall with a piece of 
chalk. We hurried around to be closer. "You see, you really can't he friends 
with a demon," she was saying seriously. "My wizard has a book that tells all 
about demons. So therefore the Dog-Man must either be a very bad personthough I 
don't think he isor else in big trouble."
Cyrus giggled beside me. "What a sweet little girl, Daimbert! Big trouble! 
You'll have to teach her magic and a little more accurate demonologywhen she 
gets older." He turned to Theodora. "But now, my dear, I'm afraid we have to get 
back to those nice chambers I prepared for you."
"No!" I said brusquely. "I'm going to get my daughter free!" And, not caring 
anymore if it did attract Vlad, I plunged into the forces of magic, trying to 
find a way to unravel this spell.
"Stop! Stop!" cried Cyrus. "Don't call Vlad's attention to tbe children now! 
There's still time to rescue them if"
He was trying to put a paralysis spell on me, but I really had studied wizardry 
a lot longer than he had. School magic worked just fine blocking the 
not-quite-thoroughly understood spells of someone who had only been Vlad's 
apprentice, learning from him the magic of blood and bone but never completing 
his studies.
In a few seconds I had Cyrus tied up in a binding spell. "Now!" I said firmly. 
"That should keep you from interfering any more while I find out how Vlad put 
this invisible wall together and take it apart again."
Cyrus looked desperate. "Don't do it, Daimbert. I'm serious! If you start 
dismantling Vlad's spells he's bound to notice. Don't you know what he plans to 
do with the childrendoubtless starting with your daughter? I've got him 
practicing weather spells all night, but you and I have to work together in the 
meantime on a plan
Daughter of Magic
275
to free these children. Let's go back to those comfortable rooms where Vlad 
won't even find us! We can plan there."             '
I had stopped to listen to him, but now I started on magic again. This was an 
arcane, highly convoluted spell and might take a while. "I can't wait any 
longer, Cyrus. I can't trust the man who kidnapped my daughter to help set her 
free."
"But how will I make restitution for capturing the children if you don't give me 
a chance to release them?" His mouth was pulled into a grimace. "Don't make me 
do this, Daimbert! I know you think you're going to help them, but you're 
putting their lives in immediate danger! I've stopped asking the demon for his 
help, but I'll do it again if it's the only way I can stop you from hurting the 
children." He dropped his eyes. "Amen, ever and forever, glory the and power the 
and kingdom the is thine"
"Stop," I said harshly. "All right. Let's go back. You've made your point." He 
didn't even have to say the whole Lord's Prayer backwards. The demon would come 
aid him with only a single mental call. I sniffed but smelled no brimstoneyet.
Nothing, I thought bitterly, would do any good at this point. Vlad might hold 
off whatever plans he had for the children for a few hours yet, but as soon as 
Cyrus and I figured out a way to free themassuming we could, and assuming I 
could trust Cyrus's assistancehe would be on us. I broke the binding spell that 
held him.
"This is much better, Daimbert," said Cyrus, rubbing his arms to restore 
circulation. He started back down the passageway, and Theodora took my arm, her 
amethyst eyes sober, as we followed. "I realize," Cyrus said gaily over his 
shoulder, "that wizards always have trouble working with those who follow die 
path of true religion, but you and I should be able to manage!"
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C. Dale Brittain
I turned for what might be my last glimpse of my daughter. Antonia had again 
taken her colored chalk out of her pocketdie same chalk the bishop had given 
her a few weeks ago, I thoughtand was drawing something else on the floor, to 
the evident interest of the boy with her. "And so they were rescued," came 
Princess Margareta's voice. "There! Wasn't that a good story?"
Paul, I could see, could hardly contain himself. Cyrus and I, back in the 
chambers the demon had provided us, became involved in a rather desultory 
discussion of magic and whether it was possible to break Vlad's spell from here, 
where theoretically Vlad would not spot us at work. There didn't seem to be any 
way. The king, on the other hand, was ready to act, to act now, to start on a 
bold plan to rescue us and a hundred children, and waiting for something to 
happen was not an acceptable alternative.
The women, exhausted by fear and the long night, huddled together, half-dozing, 
but after a while I looked up to see Justinia slowly rise. She met my eyes for a 
second, put her finger on her lips in silent warning to Paul, who had also 
glanced toward her, and advanced toward Cyrus.
"If there isn't a way to dismantie the barrier without Vlad noticing," he was 
saying, "maybe we'll just have to give him even more to think about than the 
thunderstorm."
Again, while discussing strategy and spell structure he had become, at least for 
the moment, disconcertingly sane. "Could you come up with a diversion to make 
him think this casde is under attack?" he continued. "Illusion won't do, I'm 
afraid. And I'm also afraid I used my whole supply of spell bones attacking your 
casde." He gave a chuckle. "But almost any commotion might
Daughter of Magic                          277
work if it was over on the far side of die casde. Your manservant," meaning 
Paul, "seems to know this casde, so he can guide you. If you could try 
something, then in the meantime I"
He noticed Justinia then. Her long black hair, damp and uncombed but still 
magnificent, swung over her shoulder as she came closer, hands on shapely hips. 
'T have not yet had a chance," she said witii a slow smile, "to thank diee for 
saving us all from Vlad."
Cyrus was even more startled than I was. "Well, you're welcome," he said, 
flustered. "I'm glad you're starting to trust me at last." In a moment he 
recovered his composure and leaned suavely back, a gratified-but-humble 
expression on his face.
"Perhaps," Justinia continued, her head tilted sideways, "thou and I might step 
into one of these other rooms and I could thank thee more personally."
What could she be planning? To distract him from everything around him just long 
enough for Paul to stick a knife into him? The king, standing in the background 
twitching with readiness, seemed to think so.
"Well, my lady, you seem to be making a very attractive offer," said Cyrus, 
blushing a little, "but at the moment Daimbert and I are busy planning our 
strategy, and you should also know that I am in training to become a priest."
Before Justinia could make her offer of tiianks even more attractive, the entire 
casde shuddered. There was a clang, as diough from an unimaginably huge bell, 
and the casde shuddered again. All around us we could hear falling stone, as 
half-ruined walls and roofs subsided further. But die distant sounds of falling 
seemed to take place in the heart of a strange and eerie silence.
"What" cried Cyrus, but his words were cut off. The fire, the fireplace itself, 
the couches and tapestries
278                              C. Dale Brittain
were abruptly gone. Cyrus and I smacked to the stone floor from the chairs on 
which we had just been sitting but which no longer existed.
He jumped up, looking wildly around a room now as bleak and bare as the one 
where Vlad had originally put us. Only one candle still burnedthe rest had been 
upended. I reached wildly for Theodora, my heart pounding horribly, as raw, 
unfocused terror poured through the room.
"The storm!" cried Cyrus. 'The storm!" That explained the strange silence. The 
thunder and die lash of rain had abruptly stopped, though die night was just as 
dark.
Panting hard, Cyrus started mumbling, too low and too fast for me to follow 
though it sounded like the Hidden Language. Nothing happened.
"My demon!" he cried in heartbroken despair. "My demon is gone!"
"Then let's go!" cried Paul, jerking die now-rotten door open.
I sprang in front of him. The primeval terror I felt made it seem that a demon 
had just arrived, not gone, but I would try to understand that later. "Wait, 
Paul! It's die demon's magic that has protected us from Vlad!"
That demon's tiiunderstorm and comfortable room had disappeared, and it was no 
longer answering calls from Cyrus. Vlad, suddenly not tied up with weather 
spells and able now to spot us with his magic, would be on us at once.
"Then it has also protected die children!" the king shot back. "We have to get 
to them before Vlad does!"
Theodora evidendy agreed widi him, for she grabbed my hand to pull me along. 
Cyrus glanced up from the floor and appeared to decide at the last second to 
accompany us. I thought briefly of binding him again and leaving him behind, but 
it wasn't worth it. If he'd
Daughter of Magic                          279
been abandoned by his demonic helper, all he had left was an irretrievably lost 
soul.
I tried a spell of light as we hurried out into the corridor, but it still 
didn't work. The demonic spells were broken, but Vlad's magic seemed to be 
operating fine. "This way," said Paul, running down the broad stairs with die 
candle in his hand, the rest of us hurrying to keep up. Cyrus, at the rear, had 
begun sobbing
uncontrollably.
"I am exceeding glad," muttered Justinia beside me, "that this distraction came 
before rather than after I had to kiss him."
Down the first corridor, through an open-roofed chamber where heavy clouds, no 
longer raining, hung overhead, down another passageway, Paul led us at a trot. 
He was right. Without a demon's supernatural power hiding us from Vlad, that 
wizard would know at once that we had eluded his capture. He would also know 
that I had been trying to tamper with his spell that kept the children 
imprisoned and would guess that torturing them, especially when he found out 
which was my daughter, would make me grant him anything he wanted far faster 
than'torturing me.
But what could have happened to the demon? Couldand for a second I felt wild 
hopethis mean that the bishop had arrived and overcome it?
I shook my head even as I ran. Even Joachim wouldn't be able to make a demon 
obey him. Humans had been given free will in this world, which meant that saints 
and angels were very unlikely to step in and dispose of demons that humans had 
summoned.
Might Vlad have somehow caught the demon and imprisoned it in a pentagram? It 
was ironic, I thought, hurrying across an open area where I looked in all die 
shadows for Vlad, that I didn't know whether that wizard might protect us from 
the demon or die demon from
280
C. Dale Brittain
him. But if Vlad had caught the demon, it had been done extremely rapidly. 
According to the Diplomatica Diabolica it might take days even for demonology 
experts to capture and imprison a demon someone else had summoned. The quick way 
required negotiationsin hell's currency of human souls.
And when I delicately probed with magic I could still sensein the second before 
my mind drew convulsively backthe black evil of an active demon lurking 
somewhere in die ruined castle below us.
We reached the old secret stair in the wall, squeezed in, and started down. The 
candle flame flared wildly as we groped our way.
Except that we were suddenly not standing on broken steps but on air.
V
We all grabbed at each other, and die candle smashed and went out. But it too 
lay on what appeared to be solid air. My shoulder touched what felt hke stone, 
yet my straining eyes saw no stone. All around us was a gray dimness, and the 
ruined easde, die stairs, the stones, and the eyeless windows, no longer seemed 
there.
"Cyrus?" I began fiercely.
He had been ranting to himself as we came down the narrow staircase, but he now 
paused and looked around. "Vlad knows where we are," he said in desolation. "And 
he's made the casde invisible from the inside as well as from the outside."
This went far beyond any capabilities of mine. At least, I thought grimly, 
keeping such a powerful spell operational would require an active mind; this 
wasn't the kind of spell you could set up and then walk away from. Maybe his own 
magic would distract him for the moment from catching us.
Daughter of Magic
281
"How do we get down to where die children are, Cyrus?" I demanded urgendy. "You 
know the way take us there, invisible or not."
But he had begun to babble, swaying on an invisible step, looking wildly at the 
empty drop beneath his feet to the cliffs.
"Don't look at it," said Gwennie suddenly. "Close your eyes. It's no worse than 
going into the storeroom for something and not bothering widi a light. Paul, you 
know where the children are. Keep on going."
He gave her a quick grin. "You're better at this than I am. Hold my hand. Down 
to the bottom of the staircase, over that pile of stoneswe'll have to do it by 
feeland then turn left."
Our progress, already terror-ridden, now became a nightmare. Unable to see where 
we were, we groped by feel down invisible passageways, moving what felt 
incredibly slowly as Paul tried to recreate in his mind what he had seen both on 
earlier exploring jaunts and on our previous trip to the ruined chapel. Cyrus 
was no use at all. I tried it both ways, keeping my eyes squeezed tight shut and 
leaving them open. Neither seemed to work, especially as with every step we 
seemed closer to raw evil and to despair. The sky above, I noticed, was moving 
toward dawn at last, but Vlad's cloud cover kept growing thicker, to keep any 
sunlight from reaching
him.
I stopped abruptiy, causing Cyrus to smack into me from the rear, but I hardly 
noticed. "Paul, wait," I said desperately. 'We're going in the wrong direction. 
You aren't taking us to the chapel. You're taking us down to the storage 
cellars."
He looked back at me. "This is right," he said quiedy
but firmly.
"Don't you smell it?" I cried. Faint on the air before us was a whiff of 
brimstone.
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And then, as suddenly as it had come it was gone again. The demon coming up for 
a quick peek? But he seemed to have abandoned Cyrus and all the spells he had 
been helping him with. I shook my head. "I'm sorry, Paul. Keep going."
We crept onward. The king was leading more and more slowly now, stopping at 
every intersection to grope, to pace off distances, to consider whether to turn 
or continue straight. I listened, both with my ears and with magic, for either 
children's voices or Vlad's footsteps, but heard nothing but our own breathing. 
He had not come after us at once, not even to get revenge on his own pupil who 
had so recently tried to thwart his magic. That meant I didn't want to think 
what it meant, but I feared the logical conclusion was that he was starting with 
the children.
"Wait," said Paul, so quietly I hardly heard him. He stood facing an invisible 
wall, feeling along it in both directions with his hands. "There's supposed to 
be a door right here, into the last passageway that goes to the chapel. I can't 
find it."
Then we had taken a wrong turning someplace, I thought. "Back the way we just 
came?" I suggested.
Paul shook his head. "No, this should be it. I know that last turning was right. 
Unless" We all waited. Fatigue and the strain made die king's face hard and 
tight in the dim predawn light. He did not curse, he did not shout at Cyrus, who 
should have at least as good an idea as he did where we were. Instead he said 
after a moment, "Wait for me. Let me retrace our steps just a little way"
And abrupdy the casde was back. We stood in a dark, enclosed passageway, without 
even a night sky above us. The solid rocks under our hands were no longer 
invisible.
Without even thinking I tried a spell of light. And it
Daughter of Magic                     283
worked. The corridor lit up for a few seconds as bright
as day.
"Ha!" cried Paul, the tension gone from his face. "I knew I was right! I'd just 
forgotten we had to turn left and walk twenty feet along this arcading first. 
Come on! We're almost there."
Spells of light were too hard to keep going constantly; a flare would glow for 
only a few seconds unless there was something to burn. In the dark again, our 
eyes too dazzled to see at all, we followed Paul as quickly as we
dared.
Cyrus's hand closed around my shoulder. "How did you do that? Vlad spelled this 
casde against the magic
of light!"
"I don't know," I said trudifully. Vlad had also made it invisible just a short 
time before. Were he and the demon engaged in some gigantic clash that had 
diverted both their attentions?
"And down here to die chapel," die king called back cheerily. "I think I may see 
some light at the end of die passageperhaps the children have lit a bonfire?"
But Vlad, if he had truly overcome die demon, would have had plenty of time to 
reach die ruined chapel before us. I had no idea what might be happening, but 
diat did not keep my mind from churning out terrifying possibilities.
We stumbled forward, almost running. Paul, in die lead, tripped and hit die 
floor hard. 'Watch it," he gasped, waiting to catch his breath before even 
trying to sit up, "there's something big and damp in die middle
of the passage."
A pool of blood? I cast anodier spell of light to see for a moment. Sitting in 
the middle of the passageway, looking at us with mournful eyes, was an enormous 
green
frog. I lifted it slowly, staring in disbelief as my magical
284                           C. Dale Brittain
light faded. "Ugh!" cried Justinia. "How did it arrive here? Put it down, 
Wizard!"
But I did not put it down. I turned it slowly, probing with magic now. The frog 
was held by a transformation spell that trembled just over the line into 
success. The transmogrified creature was strangely misshapen, and something was 
wrong witJi its eyes. "Daimbert?" asked Theodora quiedy.
"Sweet Jesus," I said at last. "I diink it's Vlad."
I stuffed the frog into my jacket pocket; I would have to strengthen the spell 
that held him, but it would do for die moment and even more urgent things 
demanded my attention. Squaring my shoulders I pushed ahead of Paul, down the 
passage toward the chapel. Whatever was there, I thought a wizard ought to see 
it first.
As I came cautiously nearer, I too saw the light that Paul had diought might 
come from a bonfire. But die chapel itself at the end of the passage appeared 
completely dark other dian that ghastiy orange glow. The light did not flicker. 
Vlad kicked in my pocket, but this wasn't his magic; as a frog, he wouldn't be 
able to shape die words of die Hidden Language. This was somediing far more 
powerfuland even worsethan anything of his.
Panting as from a long run, I reached die doorway and stopped, holding on to die 
doorframe with both hands. The chapel was very quiet except for the sound of one 
small person sobbing. My heart suddenly felt as though it had been crushed 
inside my chest, for that voice was Antonia's.
In the center of die chapel were two pentagrams, drawn widi colored chalk. One 
of the pentagrams was empty, diough a little yellow brimstone floated in the air 
over it. Glowing bright red in die middle of the other was a being with curved 
horns, an enormous bloated
Daughter of Magic                     285
belly, two writiiing snakes for legs, and eyes tiiat burned with real flames.
The demon smiled, revealing twice as many teedi even as Vlad, a smile suggesting 
tiiat we were old friends and he was delighted to see me again.
When I stopped dead in the doorway Paul and Theodora, behind me, first tried to 
push forward, then froze themselves. "May God be merciful," murmured Justinia
in horror.
But the sobbing continued. The pentagram was closed, I saw, holding the demon 
trapped. Theodora, Paul, and I wrenched ourselves from the doorframe and sprang 
forward. It was one of the hardest things I had ever
done.
The demon turned avidly to follow our progress. I didn't like the way he looked 
at memeeting Vlad had already been one reunion too many with an old enemy but 
I averted my eyes for something far more important On die far side of the 
pentagram, chalk clutched desperately in one small hand, sat Antonia.
Theodora and I nearly ripped her in half as we both snatched her up. Somehow we 
managed on the second try. The chalk dropped from her fingers to roll away into 
darkness. The demon continued watching but had not spoken; maybe he couldn't 
while trapped unless addressed by die person who had summoned him.
I saw then, all around, the still forms of the other
children. Dead? I thought, my insides going to ice. But
they were breathing, rapidly and shallowly, but breadiing.
"Gwennie!" called Paul, his voice an octave too high.
"We've got to get these kids out of here!"
She might not have entered a room witii a staring demon in die center for anyone 
else, but she did for the king. She ran toward him, gasping for breatfi. 
Theodora and I, selfishly ignoring any child but our own, carried Antonia back 
up die passage as fast as we
286                              C. Dale Brittain
could go, but behind us I heard Paul say, "Just grab as many as you can. We've 
got to get them away from here. Justinia! Cyrus!" I didn't wait to see if the 
others obeyed.
Antonia stopped sobbing as soon as we were out of the chapel, but she clung to 
me like a burr, her face in my beard. Now that we could see the casde again, we 
were quickly able to reach a window and collapse with real light, the light of a 
summer's early dawn, breaking through. The heavy clouds that Vlad had summoned 
were now dissipating and rolling away.
Gently I pried Antonia s hands out of my beard and turned her around. Her face 
was filthy and streaked with tears, but she managed half a smile for us. "I'm 
sorry if I scared you," she said.
Theodora started crying herself, kissing her hard. "We were scared, dearest," 
she murmured, "but it wasn't your fault. We're just so happy to find you alive 
and well. Could you tell ustell us what happened back there in the chapel?"
"I didn't drink it would be so awful," said Antonia, squirming around to get 
comfortable on her mother's lap. 'Tour book should have explained it better, 
Wizard." Suddenly she looked very pleased with herself. "But when everybody else 
fainted I didn't. And I saved the Dog-Man."
"What, exactly, did you do?" I asked, very quiedy and afraid I already knew the 
answer.
"The Dog-Man made us all follow him," she said, enjoying having two adults 
follow her every word widi rapt interest. "I didn't like that. It was as though 
we were rats! And we got so tired and he hardly would let us rest. But dien he 
said he had a demon for a friend, and I started thinking. You have that one big 
book that tells all about demons, though Elerius didn't want me
Daughter of Magic                         287
to read it. And my friend the bishop told me that demons make people do bad 
things. So I knew that the demon wasn't really his friend at all and had made 
him whistle his magic pipes at us. That's when I decided to get the demon away 
from him."
"All right," I said slowly and carefully. "I agree, the demon was responsible 
for bringing you here. But Antonia, could you explain to us how you managed to 
capture the demon? There are masters at the school who can't do it as easily as 
you just did."
"That wasn't his demon you saw," said Antonia complacendy. "His demon is back in 
hell. That was
mine."
Theodora and I exchanged stunned glances. "Just Just tell us," I said, when I 
had my voice working again, "tell us what happened, starting when all of you 
reached
the casde."
Antonia setded back, yawning and smiling at the same time. She was, I saw, 
totally exhausted, but she didn't want to go to sleep while there was anything 
exciting going on. "We were very, very tired by the time we got here," she said. 
"And the Dog-Man took us to die room where you found us. Then another man came 
and stared at us. Or do you think he might have been another demon?" she asked 
thoughtfully. "He looked like he wanted to hurt us, though he didn't try 
anything then. But the Dog-Man kept trying to push him back out of the room, and 
his eyes didn't look like real eyes."
"He was human, all right," I said. "Go on." As I spoke, I felt in my pocket for 
Vlad. Not there. He must have fallen or hopped away while Theodora and I were 
getting Antonia out of the chapel. For that matter, I wasn't entirely sure how 
he had become a frog in the first place. Could Antonia possibly have transformed 
him? But that was unlikely-, it would be very hard to put a spell on a wizard 
that powerful.
288                              C. Dale Brittain
It didn't matter, I tried to reassure myself, who had transformed him and where 
he was now. A quick magical probe didn't find him, but my probes weren't set up 
to find amphibians. He shouldn't be able to break a transformations spell 
himself, even a somewhat weak one, while he was a frog, and Cyrus was unlikely 
to break it for him. I'd catch him later.
"After we were left alone almost everybody went to sleep. Maybe I did myself for 
a while," Antonia added reluctandy "But when I woke up I started thinking. I 
wanted to save die Dog-Man because I knew he was in big trouble, and I diought 
if there wasn't a demon around pretending to be his friend, maybe he would take 
us all home. But I didn't know how to catch a demondiat part of your book is 
hard. So I imp imperv"
"Improvised?"
She shot me a smile. Her sapphire eyes were still bright but her lids were 
drifting shut. "I remembered the way the book told to draw things in chalk and 
say magic words to call a demon from hell. I thought maybe because there was 
already one so close tiiey'd just send him, the Dog-Man's demon, into my 
pentagram." She managed the word on the first try and looked pleased. "But they 
didn't. That was die part where everybody fainted except me."
When die masters had summoned a very small demon, just to show how it was done, 
in demonology class at die school, several wizardry students twenty years older 
than Antonia had fainted.
"They sent this different demon," she said around a long yawn. "And he's really 
scary. I didn't want to cry because I'm a big girl, but I couldn't help it. He 
asked me what he could do for me, and I told him to catch die other demon and 
make him go back to hell. He tried to argue with me but I told him he had to 
obey
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because I was 'Mistress of die Pentagrams.' Doesn't tiiat sound good?"
And widi diat she felLasleep in Theodora's lap, her eyes shut tight and moudi 
slighdy open. We sat still for several minutes, hardly breadiing. Theodora spoke 
at last.
"God in Heaven, Daimbert. Our daughter has just sold her soul to die devil."
PART EIGHT
Demons I
I scrambled to my feet. This all had to be a mistake. A mistake! I stopped 
myself just in time from driving my fist against the stone wall. Of course she 
had summoned a demon, and asked it for favors, a process that both wizardry and 
religion agreed led to eternal damnation. But she was only five years old!
Unlike Cyrus, she'd had the sense to keep it imprisoned in a pentagram rather 
than letting it run around loose. But that reminded me. There must still be 
unconscious children in the room with it, awash in the terror beyond terror of 
death which flowed from a demon, even an imprisoned one.
I hurried back to find that Paul and Gwennie so far had been able to shift about 
two dozen of the children. I needed to do something, anything, even worse than 
the king did. A demon, even an enormous horned demon who kept giving me a 
knowing smile, was not the most terrifying thing I could imagine. Lifting limp 
boys and girls with magicI could manage five or six at onceand carrying them 
away from the chapel was an excellent alternative to dissecting Cyrus bone by 
bone and nerve by nerve.
291
292                           C Dale Brittain
He sat huddled in a corner by die arcading, his hands over his head, and 
Justinia, sitting a dozen yards from him, seemed to have given up trying, but 
Gwennie and the king kept grimly running up and down the passageway. She was 
strong and could easily carry two children at a time. Theodora settled Antonia 
in a corner and came to help.
The others made wide detours around the demon, but I, running with my head down, 
didn't careuntil my foot skidded and almost slid across the chalk line, which 
would by breaking die pentagram have let die demon out.
I wiped cold sweat from my forehead widi a damp sleeve. All die things they had 
taught us in demonology class came rushing back. Someone who has sold his soul 
is even more dangerous to diose around him than someone who has damned himself 
through ordinary sins. Cyrus had barely begun. First die demon fills a person 
widi anger and bitterness, dien offers spectacular ways to harm those with whom 
he imagines he is angry. And why worry about a few murders? His soul is already 
long gone.
And, if the demon is loose and able to work his own tricks, die situation only 
grows worse.
The children started to revive once they were away from die chapel. One little 
boy opened his eyes to find himself in Paul's arms and asked with delighted 
surprise, "Are you die brave knight?"
"I guess I'd better be," he said with a grin, ruffling die boy's hair for a 
minute before putting him down and starting back for more.
In. ten minutes we had diem all spread out in die arcade, well away from the 
passage mat led to the chapel. The king flopped to the floor and leaned back 
against die wall. He reached up with one hand to pull Gwennie down beside him. 
Her face was running with sweat and
Daughter of Magic                     293
looked exhausted, terrified, and grimly^atisfied. "You've always been die best 
friend I've ever had," Paul said, meaning it. He gave her a hard hug as she 
settled herself on die floor, widi no more romantic passion in it than the 
dozens of hugs he had just been giving children. "Once we're home I'm changing 
your tide from acting castie constable to permanent constable. When you told me 
you drought you could handle the duties, did you ever expect them to include 
facing a demon?"
We caught our breatiis for a minute. All a big mistake, I told myself again. 
Baptized children went straight to heaven, as long as diey had not yet reached 
die age of reason and dierefore could not commit intentional sin. Didn't tiiey? 
What was the age of reason? Seven for sure. Yes, that was right. Seven. Antonia 
was only five. Did demons recognize how old a person was in human years, or did 
tiiey ask only if they had functioning reasoning abilitiesif, for example, they 
could read and
work magic?
"When I was littie," said Paul, "I always thought it would be exciting to meet a 
demon. Now tiiat I have met one, I can't say I particularly care to repeat the 
experience. Did you see tiiat belly? Those eyes? But I do remember learning 
about pentagrams. Looks like your daughter, Wizard, must have drawn a pentagram 
to imprison itshe's an amazing little girl, and you have no reason at all to 
hide her. One of her chalk lines, I couldn't help noticing, looked scuffed, but 
it was redrawn carefully. And die demon appears pretty well trapped
now."
"Yes," I said reluctandy. "It can't move away or hide, and it can't make itself 
invisible. As long as no one lets it out, it shouldn't be able to do anything to 
terrify us, such as bringing more vipers and apparitions."
"Oh, I'm terrified quite enough already, if it asks," said Paul cheerfully. "But 
it looks like we've won, then!
294                              C. Dale Brittain
Cyrus seems to have broken down completely without his demon to help him," with 
a glance in his direction, "and Vlad's a frog, so once it's a little lighter 
outside one of us can fly the carpet back to Caelrhon and tell the parents all 
their children are safe."
That reminded me. I had better try to find Vlad again.
"And I guess sending the demon back to hell is something you wizards know how to 
do," Paul continued lighdy. He looked around at children starting to sit up 
groggily, many of them apparently deciding the whole episode had been a 
nightmare and lying down to sleep again. The Princess Margareta was awake but 
lay silently, as though trying to make it all make sense in her own mind.
"Maybe Mother has a point," the king went on. "If I got married I could have 
children. Maybe not a hundred. Say, a dozen or so. Wouldn't that be great, to 
have a dozen little princes and princesses running around the casde?"
"You'd better consult your queen on that." Gwennie managed to say it as a joke. 
Margareta, looking startled, rose on her elbows.
Paul laughed without seeming to notice either's reaction. For him, all our 
troubles were over rather than just beginning. "All right. Maybe I'll settle for 
three or four. Too bad I don't have any brothers or sisters of my own, or I 
could have nieces and nephews. And if the duchess's daughters aren't going to 
marry" He stopped. "That reminds me, Wizard. Is Celia a novice nun now?"
I had completely forgotten about the twins since leaving them at the nunnery. "I 
suppose so. They would have had to finish the ceremony without a spiritual 
sponsor."
"I'll ride down there in a few days," said Paul lazily. 'They probably won't let 
me see her, but at least I can
Dauchter of Macic
295
find out if everything is going smoothly. I was looking through some old 
ledgersthanks again, Gwennie, by the way, for helping me find themand it looks 
as though previous kings of Yurt sometimes made gifts to the nunnery, so maybe I 
should too."
Suddenly, unexpectedly, a voice floated through the window. "Hello!" It sounded 
magically amplified. "Is anyone there?"
I knew that voice. I jumped up so fast I almost slipped and leaped to the 
window. Outside, hovering somewhat tentatively in midair, were two wizards, one 
black-bearded and one with a red bandit's beard: Elerius and
Evrard-
Paul joined me at the window and waved enthusiastically. "What's that older 
wizard's name, Elerius, is that right?" he asked me with a low chuckle. "It 
seems like he's always showing up just a few minutes too late, just after you've 
finished disposing of the enemy. You're going to make him jealous at this rate, 
Wizard!"
I didn't have the heart to tell him how wrong he was.
'We'd been combing Caelrhon almost inch by inch for any sign of you and the 
children," said Evrard. "At first Elerius"with a nod toward the other wizard: 
"was able to pick up the remnants of the tracer spell you'd put on the flying 
carpet earlier this summer, but the spell disappeared as we came upriver. And we 
could have sworn this castle wasn't even here!"
Elerius meanwhile was introducing himself to Theodora. They had spoken on the 
telephone but never actually met. "So this is the witch of Caelrhon," said 
Elerius pleasantly, regarding her from under peaked eyebrows, "for whom Daimbert 
has been willing to flout all the traditions of wizardry."
"But about half an hour ago," said Evrard, continuing his story, "Elerius said 
he could sense a major spell
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C. Dale Brittain
breaking up somewhere in this direction. And as we approached a ruined castle 
suddenly materialized before us, towers, battlements, and all!" His cheerful 
blue eyes looked concerned for a moment "And there wasn't much question about 
the presence of the supernatural. . . ."
I flew down to the base of the cliffs to retrieve the carpet, and Paul and 
Gwennie began loading children. Justinia, with no desire whatsoever to stay in 
this casde, agreed to pilot it back to Caelrhon. "We should be able to take them 
all in three or four trips," said Paul. "Princess Margareta had better be in the 
first group, or it could provoke an international incident!" He laughed at his 
own humor. "Yes, that's right," to one of the children. "You'll be back with 
your mother very soon."
"So the demon's already trapped in a pentagram, I gather," said Elerius, looking 
at me thoughtfully. "That certainly saves the hard magic of chasing it around 
the casde. We won't need the demonology experts from the school; the person who 
summoned it can just send it back." He waited expectandy.
The first carpedoad of children took off, awake and laughing now. The king and 
Gwennie accompanied diem, while Theodora stayed with die rest. Antonia was still 
asleep, curled up on the hard stone floor with her chestnut hair loose across 
her face.
I turned back to see Elerius still looking at me. I realized slowly that he was 
wondering just how desperate I had been to rescue her. Evrard himself was just 
working out tliat I even had a daughter and seemed shocked at least in part, I 
thought, because everyone here but he seemed to know about it.
I took a deep breath. This was going to take all the wizardry we knew between 
us. "I didn't summon the demon myself," I said, not mentioning that in only 
slighdy different circumstances I might have. I went on to tell them how Cyrus 
had long been working with a demon,
Dauchter of Magic
297
ever since his apprenticeship days in die eastern kingdoms widi Vladwho I still 
hadn't foundand how Antonia had decided the easiest way to save him from it and 
to get all the children rescued was to summon a demon herself.
"What did you say she was, five?" said Evrard. "Too young to have to worry about 
her soul, dien. Pretty sharp move, Daimbert!" giving me a punch on the shoulder 
as though it had all been my idea. "Let's wake her up and have her return it to 
hell. If she could lisp out die words to call it she should be able to send it 
back all right."
Elerius had known Antonia; Evrard had not. The former had the good taste not to 
take for granted diat there was no problem. He gave me a long, sober look from 
his tawny hazel eyes. "I swear on all die powers of magic, Daimbert," he said 
quietly, "I did not teach her any demonology."
Evrard looked back and forth between us, realizing there was more going on than 
he realized. I shook my head. "I didn't diink you had. That's not what's 
bothering
me."
Elerius nodded slowly. "If someone has sold his or her soul, the only chance to 
get it back is through negotiation, before rather than after the demon returns
to hell."
Evrard wrinkled his forehead in surprise. "Aren't the two of you getting a litde 
overexcited here? Wizardry doesn't worry about people's souls. And even if she 
didn't get off for being so young, she'd still have seventy years or so to worry 
about it. And"
Before he had a chance to tell me reassuringly diat she would probably damn 
herself a dozen different ways in die next seventy years anyway, Evrard found 
himself propelled backwards hard and fast through the air. He hit the wall and 
subsided slowly.
298                           C. Dale Brittain
"All right, all right, I get the hint," he said good-naturedly.
"Daimbert!" said Theodora, who had been following our conversation from a little 
distance away.
But that hadn't been my magic. That had been Elerius.
We sat quietly, close together, our eyes locked. "Why are you doing this?" I 
asked. "Why are you trying to help me?" In part I realized I was stalling; as 
long as Antonia was asleep, as long as die demon down in die ruined chapel was 
imprisoned in the pentagram, things could not get any worse than they already 
were. But in part I wanted to understand.
"We all take oadis to help humanity," he said slowly. "A litde girl is part of 
humanity. But diere is of course more, Daimbert, as you and I know. If we called 
the school, the demonology experts would doubdess tell us that die dieoretical 
danger to a girl's soul, a danger diey would have to discuss with the priests to 
assess properlywhich diey have no intention of doingis nothing compared to die 
very real danger of a demon loose in the world. Back to hell with it at once, 
die school's masters would tell us, before it breaks out of the pentagram, and 
if one girl is sacrificed it's still worth it."
The casde was quiet around us. The children dozed again while waiting, and die 
only sounds came from Cyrus, who sat a short distance from us, his head in his 
hands and muttering. Evrard and Theodora were listening but could have been 
miles away. "That sounds like die kind of logic diat would appeal to you, 
Elerius," I said. "You always claim to be working for the greater good of 
humanity, even if a few standards or a few people have to be sacrificed along 
die way."
He was not insulted. "I am speaking openly, Daimbert. I know perfectly well that 
in trying to help Antonia
Daughter of Magic                       299
and she is a delightful htde girl, one that anyone of any sensitivity would want 
to helpI am not following the school's standards. But diere is a higher good 
here. I have spoken to you of this before. Someday, probably sooner than they 
diink, the masters of the school will have to step aside for younger leadership. 
It's no secret that everyone assumesincluding methat I shall be part of that 
leadership. And when diat time comes I will want your help."
I looked away, not able to meet his calculating gaze any longer. "You said all 
this once before, but I would have thought it would be clear now that I could 
never join die school faculty. They don't want wizards who
have families."
"Because such a wizard would let his judgment be swayed by personal 
considerations?" said Elerius witii half a smile. "It is a good policy, but I 
may have to make an exception here. Certainly I will not now tell die school 
what you yourself have managed remarkably well to keep hidden from them. By the 
time I assume die leadership I will be in a position to make my own rules. I 
don't know what it is about you, Daimbert. Your grasp of academic magic is 
scarcely better tiian Evrard's"the redheaded wizard cringed"and yet somehow 
you are always in die right place at the right time."
I seemed at die moment to be in die wrong place at entirely the wrong time, but 
I didn't interrupt
"And you have imagination and a flair for improvisation, and you have a daughter 
who knows more magic at five than most first-year wizardry studentssomeone who, 
if she is not perverted by a demon, could be very useful to organized wizardry 
herself when just a litde older. Yet you have always been suspicious of me. Call 
dus calculation if you like, but I want your friendship. Trying to save Antonia 
is but a small price to pay for diat friendship."
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C. Dale Brittain
I was not quite persuaded yet. "You realize," I said slowly, "that if these 
negotiations go the way I think they may, I won't even be around to help you in 
your plans and projects."
"That is why you need me now, Daimbert: another wizard to give you a chance to 
get both of you out of this alive. Unless your mistrust of me weighs heavier 
than your fears for Antonia?"
"I'd deal with the devil himself to save her," I said, looking at him quickly 
and then away. "And it looks as though I will."
We woke Antonia gendy. She didn't want to wake up and kept digging her knuckles 
into her eyes and trying to turn away from the light. But when she spotted 
Elerius she sat up in my lap and gave him a broad smile. "I remembered 
everything you taught me about frogs," she said with enthusiasm.
I myself had nearly been forced to leave the wizards' school because of all my 
trouble with those frogs in Zahlfast's transformations practical. She had to get 
this ability from Theodora.
"So that was you who turned the man into a frog?" Elerius asked. We had sent 
Evrard off to scour the castie forVlad.
"That's right. He really was a bad man. After I'd summoned the demon he came 
running into the room where we all were, very excited. I think he was looking 
for the Dog-Man. He had been very quiet and pretend-polite when I saw him 
before, so it made me even more scared because he was shouting and threatening 
That's when I turned him into a frog." She smiled happily. "I think he was 
surprised."
"I'm sure he was," said Theodora from across the room. "I still can't do 
transformations myself." So the Lord knew where she had gotten this ability.
Daughter of Magic
301
And the devil knew where she would get her next startling abilities if we 
couldn't reclaim her soul.
"But I want to hear more about how you summoned the demon," said Elerius gently.
Antonia would clearly have preferred to discuss the frog some more, but she 
reluctantly agreed to provide details. "When he appeared in the pentagram I told 
him I wanted a dema demastra demonstration. The book said sometimes they would 
do one for free. And I said for my demonstration he should catch the odier demon 
and make him go back to hell." She laughed. "That's like a jokedemon, 
demonstration."
"And what did he say?" I said, abruptly hoping against hope. Maybe Evrard was 
right, and I'd gotten myself all worked up for nothing.
"He said that was too hard to be a demonstration. That's when I told him I was 
Mistress of the Pentagrams and he had to do it whether he wanted to or not. He 
did, too," she said, pleased at the memory of wielding such power. "I had to 
make an opening in the pentagram to let him out, but I told him I only did it if 
he promised to come right back. I made the second pentagram to hold the demon he 
caught while I was waiting for diem." She sighed. 'That was probably the worst 
part of all, with two demons right there in the room, before the Dog-Man's 
disappeared and I was able to redraw the line to keep mine in."
Elerius and I exchanged glances. We might be able to persuade the demon to 
return to hell with no one's soul, to convince him that all of this fell into 
the category of demonstrating demonic powers before reaching agreement on a 
soul's sale. I doubted it.
"Don't you think," suggested Antonia, "that now that die Dog-Man doesn't have a 
demon anymore he'll be happier?" Cyrus was making low whimpering noises at the 
moment. It was a nice thought on Antonia's part,
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C. Dale Brittain
but it hadn't worked: with the demon back in hell he had simultaneously lost his 
power to do black magic in this world and any hope for the redemption of his 
soul in the next.
I stood up, clenched and unclenched my fists, and walked over to Theodora. I had 
been kissing her for over a minute before she realized that this public display 
of affection meant that I was saying good-bye.
II
"Should we ask Cyrus for his help?" asked Elerius. "He's certainly had 
experience dealing with a demon." He paused. "I never have."
We both looked toward Cyrus. The Dog-Man, the miracle-worker with the key to the 
city of Caelrhon, the failed seminary student, was huddled in on himself: a 
broken man without the demon who had long accompanied him. "Not unless we think 
we could pass off his soul in trade," I said in disgust. "But at this point I 
doubt even the devil would want it if it wasn't long since his."
"You and me, then," said Elerius, and we started down the passage toward the 
ruined chapel. Antonia reluctantly accompanied us, holding both our hands. 
Either one of us could have sent the demon back to hell at once since it was 
already imprisoned in a pentagram, but we needed Antonia to start the 
conversation if we were going to try to negotiate.
At the last minute Cyrus looked up and rose to slink along behind us, but he had 
the good sense to stop well short of the chapel. A hundred reasons why it would 
be much better to put this off struck me, but I kept on walking, teeth tight 
together to keep them from chattering. Knowing the feeling of raw terror was 
about to strike made it no easier when it did.
The chapel was pitch black, even though outside the
Daughter of Magic                       303
windows it was now early morning. The only light came from the demon himself. He 
was alive, glowing, yet essentially motionless. Our feet slowed and dragged as 
we crossed the room toward the pentagram. Antonia faced the demon squarely, 
visibly struggling to keep from sobbing again. He gave her a wide and evil grin, 
as if she were a dainty morsel he was about to consume.
"By Satan, by Beelzebub," she brought out between trembling lips, and my heart 
wrenched to hear her have to say it, "by Lucifer and Mephistopheles."
At these words of summons he abruptly became twice as alive, twisting in a veil 
of smoke within the pentagram. "I am yours to command, Antonia," he said 
pleasantly or his best attempt. "What can I bring you? What enemies of yours 
can I destroy?"
"I don't want anything," she said stubbornly, keeping her eyes on the floor. 
"But you have to talk to these
wizards."
Not quite the language recommended by the Diplomatica Diabolica, but it would 
do. "Quick, get back to your mother," I whispered, giving her a push.
"But I have to help you, Wizard," she whispered back, retreating only a short 
distance. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Theodora halfway down the corridor 
and motioned to her.
But before I could make sure Antonia was well on her way the demon spoke again. 
And he spoke to me.
"Daimbert, what a surprise! Are you back to take me up on some of the offers you 
rejected last time we
met?"
The final scraps of my courage vanished. Just as I had feared. Thousands of 
demons in hell, and Antonia had summoned this one. Maybe Yurt was his territory
just as it was mine.
The demon fixed me with a malevolent eye. "Before we begin," he said 
conversationally in his high voice,
304                           C. Dale Brittain
"you'll have to let me out of this pentagram so I can work for you. I can take 
your soul, of course, if you'd like to hand it over, but I assume you'll want 
some benefits in return? I thought so. They usually do."
"No 'benefits,' Demon," I said harshly, trying to make myself furious because it 
was the only alternative to abject terror. "You're staying right there until 
we've finished negotiating."
"But I know someone who would like something from me," said the demon coylyor 
as coyly as something red and bulging could manage. "Antonia," he called, "come 
erase the pentagram, even just a single chalk mark as you did before, and I'll 
bring you something you'll really like. Haven't you always wanted to see a 
dragon?'
"A dragon? Really?" She turned and took half a step toward us, then looked fully 
at the enormous mouth and fiery eyes and raced up the passage toward her mother.
I let my breath out all at once and had trouble catching it again. A good thing 
this demon didn't have experience trying to be tempting to little girls while 
trapped inside a pentagram.
"We have come to bargain with you," I said as firmly as I could. "Let us begin 
with nonbinding conversation." I glanced toward Elerius, wondering when he was 
going to add something, and saw him trembling hard. In some ways that was the 
most terrifying thing I had seen yet.
"Nonbinding conversation," agreed die demon good-naturedly, showing a remarkable 
number of pointed teeth. "That way you can ask me for whatever you want without 
worrying about the results." This was actually not accurate, but the Diplomatica 
Diabolica did make it clear that one was less likely to be tricked by a demon if 
the conversation had been declared nonbinding.
"You say you want to negotiate," continued the
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305
demon, "but you have, I fear, caught me in a position of weakness." He gestured 
at the pentagram with an enormous hand. "You see me imprisoned here. If you and 
all your friends just walked away, I wouldn't be able to play any of my little 
tricks that seem to annoy you so much, I wouldn't be able to whisper suggestions 
in Antonia's ear, and, in short, you could forget I even existed! So your coming 
around talking of negotiations suggests you'd actually like something from the 
devil but are just too shy to ask."
"Not at all," I said sternly. So far, so good. The temptation to leave him in 
the ruined chapel and run lasted for only a second. "You know you'd like nothing 
better than to be left right here." I glanced surreptitiously at the pentagram; 
it appeared well-drawn, without flaws. "Sooner or later the chalk would wash 
away, or dry up and blow away, or someone would come exploring die casde and 
break die chalk lines widiout realizing the danger. Leaving you here would only 
postpone the problemor make it a hundred times worse if we had to chase you and 
capture you. I'm not going to walk away and leave you here and I'm not going to 
let you out. And I'm also not going to ask you for favors in this world."
"If you keep on rejecting what I could offer you before I even offer it," said 
die demon widi a flash of fire from his eyes, "you risk getting nodiing at all!"
"Fine," I said shortly. "I only want Antonia's safety." The negotiations seemed 
to have begun. "Now, you claim to want no benefits from me," said die demon, 
settling himself comfortably in the center of die pentagram, "but you and I both 
know diat's not true. You'd like to be a better wizard, you'd like to find a way 
to combine marriage to a witch widi continued association in organized 
wizardryand, oh yes, I don't want to forget, you'd like some assurance tliat 
your
306
C. Dale Brittain
daughter has not yet 'lost' her soul, as your so-called religion so quaintly 
puts it." He grinned evilly. "This sounds to me like a lot to expect in return 
for one soul that's already fairly well stained!"
It was better not to ask how a demon gained knowledge about someone. "You're 
starting from the wrong assumptions," I said roughly. "I don't want" I stumbled 
over the words and started again. "I wouldn't want any of the rest if I only had 
it because of you. All I want is the assurance that you have given up any hold 
over Antonia."
"That sweet little girl will make an especially tasty mouthful for the devil," 
said the demon, licking his lips in anticipation. "Why should I assure you of 
anything of the sort? After all, she summoned me herself and has already asked 
for a very large favor. Don't tell me you think she's not capable of making her 
own choices!" Not yet, she wasn't, I told myself desperately. She was still only 
five. And that the demon had tried to tempt her further, with an offer to see a 
dragon, suggested that he had at least some doubts himself. Either that or he 
was toying with me. "You are not entitled to her soul, Demon," I said with as 
much confidence as I could muster, "and you and I botii know it." The room grew 
slowly but steadily hotter as we talked. "Don't interrupt! Three reasons. First, 
she is well short of the age of reason, which is seven, and therefore cannot yet 
damn herself by her own actions. Second, she may have asked a single rather 
simple favor of you, but it was from the purest motives: she wanted to save 
another mortal. And third, if she 'sold' her soul to you she didn't get what she 
wanted in return, for Cyrus is as thoroughly damned as ever." The demon waved 
his hand airily. "You ought to know diat the reckoning of mortal years means 
little to us. Do you imagine that a child who plotted and executed
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307
the deaths of all his playmates would be safe just because he desisted the day 
before his seventh birthday? And, as I am sure she will confirm if you ask, she 
did not actually ask me to 'save' Cyrus, which I would have not done anyway. She 
only asked me to return another demon to hell."
"And she asked for your help only from the purest of motives," I insisted again. 
"Someone who selflessly gives his life to save another goes straight to heaven. 
How much more then someone who gives his soul?"
"Nice try, Daimbert," said the demon, showing all his teeth. "But how could the 
devil take one soul in exchange for another if you claim that the second thereby 
saved itself? You'll be trying to assert that hell has no claims to anyone at 
this rate."
"She didn't even know she was selling her soul," I said, retreating to a backup 
position. "Souls are always judged on intention. If you now claim her it is on 
the merest technicality."
I had nearly forgotten Elerius was there. Concentrating on the demon and on 
withstanding my own fears left me no time for anything else. When he suddenly 
spoke I jerked convulsively.
"The protocol between wizardry and demons has always been clear on this point," 
he said, managing to sound impressively calm and assured. "A soul that might be 
forfeit, although only on the shakiest grounds, can be redeemed by the offering 
of a human life, not another
soul."
"And therefore," I said, fast before my lips could freeze in terror, "I am here 
to offer my own life in return for
Antonia's soul."
Both Elerius and the demon spoke together. "Not you, Daimbert!" Elerius hissed. 
"I'm trying to give him
Vlad."
"Not this bargain again, Daimbert!" said the demon
308                           C. Dale Brtttain
with a laugh that made his enormous belly shake. "I unwisely agreed to such a 
bargain with you once long ago, and you managed to wiggle out of it. Did you 
think I would be so easy to mislead a second time?"
"All right, then," said Elerius briskly. I was for the moment unable to speak, 
filled both widi bitter despair that the one way I hoped I might have to rescue 
Antonia wasn't going to work, and widi a wild, desperate, and shameful relief 
diat I might still live. "We'll offer you another life instead, the life of a 
wizard right here in the casde."
"Elerius, I'm so pleased to have a chance to meet you at last," said die demon, 
the flames shooting from his eyes spoiling die effect of his friendly words. The 
room by now was as hot as a stove. "I can see you'll be much more engaging to 
deal widi dian Daimbert, who always seems suicidally bent on throwing away his 
life. But you do have to understand somediing first If you want me to take die 
life of diis wizard-frog in return for die girl and diat was what you had in 
mind, was it not?dien it would have to be his own sacrifice. You could if you 
like give your own soul to die devil by murdering diat wizard in cold blood, but 
if you want to bargain with me diere must be less messy ways to do it."
"There are odier protocols to turn to in diat case," said Elerius, sounding 
abrupdy much less assured.
Bodi my life and my soul, I diought. I could offer them together for Antonia's 
release. That might do it. If I was dead as well as damned dien I wouldn't need 
to worry about die evil I would do to all die people I loved for die next two 
centuries. I found my mouth too dry to speak.
"Unlike Daimbert," said die demon to Elerius, shifting his belly to a more 
comfortable position, "you have never paid much attention to die pratde of your 
religion. I'm sure you assume you'll be going to hell in die end anyway,
Daughter of Magic                    309
and dierefore would be more dian willing to gain some spectacular benefits in 
diis world in exchange for a soul diat would never have much chance for 
salvation,"
Suppose, because I was trying to save Antonia, die devil diought my motives were 
too pure and wouldn't accept die bargain, even when I offered body and soul 
together? I might have to have an additional and entirely impure motive. Maybe I 
could stipulate murdering Cyrus as part of the agreement: an appealing 
possibility.
"Do not try to tempt me with talk of benefits, Demon," said Elerius sternly. "We 
are here to talk about Antonia." "And I am delighted to do so. Since you seem so 
concerned about her, why don't we arrange a simple trade, your soul for hers? 
Now before you start to tell me this is an unequal trade," holding up a huge red 
hand, "wait until I tell you what else I can give you as part of the bargain."
"You cannot give me anything I could not obtain on my own," said Elerius. It 
came out low and diick. "Elerius" I started to say, but he motioned me to
silence.
"Don't interrupt," he said in an undertone. "I should be able to negotiate 
better dian you can, because I don't have personal feelings to interfere."
"You wizards must be the most exasperating mortals there can be to deal widi," 
said the demon with an evil chuckle. "Even priests aren't nearly as stubborn, 
once they get past their initial hesitation. Of course there are things you 
want, Elerius, that you could not obtain without me. To start with, how about 
the immediate leadership of the wizards' school?"
There was a long pause while I waited for Elerius to answer, and he did not.
So far my knees had been holding up fairly well. Now they started to shake so 
badly that I had to sit down quickly before I fell.
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"The school already has a Master," Elerius brought out at last in a thin, tight 
voice, completely unlike his normal way of speaking.
"Your choice then. Shall he have a little accident, or will he suddenly decide 
that failing health makes it necessary for him to step aside?" That was the 
problem of trying to deal with a demon. He might not know someone's higher 
thoughts and aspirations, but he knew all too well the dark imaginings and 
cravings that one tried to hide even from oneself.
"I choose neither one," replied Elerius after only a brief pause, appearing to 
rally slighdy. "I plan to take over the school s direction with my own unaided 
powers, but not for some years yet."
"You're certainly quick now to reject what you know you've always wanted," said 
the demon softly. I tried unsuccessfully to speak, but this had nothing to do 
widi me. "Why waste die best years of your life, die years of your greatest 
strength and mature abilities, waiting for an old man whose only real skill is 
an unusual ability to prolong his own life? Daimbert, I see, would like to give 
you an argument, but he'll come around quickly when he realizes that I'll let 
his daughter have her soul back as part of our bargain."
Elerius ran his tongue along dry lips and barked out a very unconvincing laugh. 
"If I take over the school it will be to help humanity, not to further your own 
evil plans. This bargain will not help me at all."
"Just too dismissive," said the demon, shaking his horned head, "that's your 
problem, just too dismissive of good ideas if they don't accord with your own 
prejudices. Suppose we add a litde radier unusual twist to our agreement? I'll 
make sure you take over the school at once, but then I'll step aside. I won't 
try to tempt you furtiier or direct your plans; you'll be able to do all die 
'good' you want without my interference. I
Daughter of Magic                         311
promise!" He laid a heavy hand over what would have been his heart if he had 
one.
Dear God, I thought, unable to say anything, shouting mentally at Elerius to 
refuse at once and getting no response. All die damage a master wizard could do 
if he had sold his soul flashed tiirough my mind. Between his own powers and the 
added abilities of black magic, not all the western wizards combined could stand 
against him. And someone like Elerius, who had always drought tiiat one needed 
to bend a few rules to reach die final good and justifiable end, would find 
himself bending more and more rules, and would be quite surprised to find that 
he was entirely alone in believing that his goals
were good.
I had come here intending to find a way to save Antonia. Now it looked like I 
would have to save Elerius s soul as welland it was almost too late.
Ill
There was a small, very serious voice behind us. "Don't listen to him. That's 
not a real promise. He's not your
friend."
Elerius gave a great start as diough coming out of a trance. I whirled around, 
finding my voice again. "Antonia! What are you doing here?"
She buried her face in my shoulder to avoid looking at the demon, who appeared 
delighted to have her back. Her voice was indistinct but confident. "Mother was 
trying to calm down some of the littlest children," as though she were not one 
of diem. "So I tiptoed away. You didn't hear me coming, did you! I got here just 
in
time."
I looked over at Elerius, still on his feet but swaying. His face was ashen and 
running with sweatnot just from the heat of the room. He broke his gaze away
312                           C. Dale Brittain
from the demon and sat down very suddenly. "Thank you, Antonia," he murmured.
"I told you that you needed me here to help you," she said, starting to tremble 
now.
She had tried to help Gwennie and the twins by taking them off on a flying 
carpet ride, tried to help the Dog-Man by summoning a demon of her own, and 
really had helped Elerius by showing up when she did. But my stomach knotted as 
I thought what she might do in the very near future, still convinced she was 
helping her friends, once the demon's influence began to work fully on her.
"You've You've negotiated with a demon before, Daimbert?" said Elerius 
hesitantly. "Somehow I never heard about that."
"I don't think anyone but Zahlfast and the Master ever knew," I said shortly.
"I know all the protocols from the Diplomatica Diabolica, of course, and I was 
aware that one had to beware of temptations, but somehow I had imagined diem 
taking the form of wealdi and pliant maidens."
"When you're in charge of die school, Elerius," I said quiedy, "be sure the 
demonology courses make it clearer that power can be the greatest temptation of 
diem all." "We're negotiating here, remember?" interrupted die demon. "If you 
start talking to each other instead we'll never reach an agreement!"
And maybe we don't want an agreement, I thought, but diat idea too was a 
temptation. Doing nothing would mean Antonia's will slowly turning to evil even 
while the demon remained imprisoned, and at some point, far in die future or 
very soon, an escaped demon roaming gleefully dirough Yurt and Caelrhon.
"You have to come now, Wizard," said Antonia to me. 'That's why I sneaked away 
from Modier, to tell you the people are here."
Daughter of Magic                     313
"The king is back witii die flying carpet?" I asked,
keeping my face resolutely turned away from die demon.
"Not him. I couldn't tell who tiiey are. But a whole
group of people are climbing up to the gate, and I think
some of diem have swords. You have to come see diem."
Just a short delay wouldn't hurt anytiiing, I thought,
leaping to my feet. Antonia was right; a group of people
arriving unsuspecting at a castie widi a demon in it was
die last thing we needed. "Come on," I said to Elerius.
"Now tiiat we've gotten the initial temptations out of
die way, we can continue this negotiation shortly."
"You go ahead, Daimbert," he said, shaking his head. Antonia was tugging now at 
my hand. "We don't dare leave the demon, even imprisoned inside a pentagram, now 
tiiat we've started nonbinding conversation. He could talk to anyone who 
wandered into die room do you want him asking one of the other children to 
erase the chalk lines?"
Logically it made sense. But I didn't dare leave him alone. "I'll stay, dien. 
You go with Antonia."
The demon was growing more and more irritated that we weren't paying attention 
to him, but at die moment I only had eyes for Elerius. "You don't trust me, do 
you, Daimbert," he said quietly. "At least give me credit for die intelligence 
to realize die flaw in what he's offering. He's right that I've never worried 
overly about the eventual fate of my soul, but I really do intend to use my 
magic to help mankind, and the first thing a demon would do is to make me unable 
to tell the difference between helping and harming." He managed a grim smile. 
"And I've always been admired for my wizardry skills; don't you realize how 
galling it would be to know that my future abilities would not be mine but a 
demon's?"
"But I have more experience"
"And are much more likely," commented Elerius dryly,
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"to throw away your life and soul together in a reckless effort to save your 
daughter. Now that I have seen die dangers, I shall attempt what other means 
might be found."
"I want you to come, Wizard," said Antonia to me, tugging harder.
Still I hesitated. "If I leave you here, Elerius," I said slowly, "and I find 
that you've deluded yourself, like Cyrus, into thinking that you can use a 
demon's help without it affecting your own judgment and will, then I shall have 
to kill you: quickly, immediately, before the powers of black magic make you 
invincible."
Elerius's face had slowly regained its color. "I don't think I'll be in any 
danger of death from you," he said, managing a smile. I wondered if he meant it 
as equivocally as it sounded.
"Hurry up!" Antonia cried. "If you don't hurry the people will be here, and if 
you make Elerius go instead I'll stay here with you."
That decided me. I scooped her up and found myself running flat out up the 
passage away from the ruined chapel, almost tripping over Cyrus, who was huddled 
by the door. A voice in the back of my mind asked if this urging from Antonia 
might be the first sign of die devil's influence, taking me away from where I 
really ought to be.
It felt so good to be out of the demon's influence, back in cool morning 
sunlight, seizing a startled Theodora and kissing her again when I diought I had 
done so for the last time, that I almost didn't care.
Briefly I told her of our progressor lack of progress so far and looked out 
die window. A group of people had left dieir horses at die base of die cliffs 
and were climbing up the broken causeway toward die castie's front gate. And 
widi a far-seeing spell I recognized diem: Celia and Hildegarde, dieir parents, 
and die bishop.
Daughter of Magic                     315
^        &#9830;        &#9830;
For a few minutes I could imagine that everything was going to be all right 
after all. I flew down and met diem outside the gate, telling diem immediately 
tiiat all the children were safe but leaving out, for the moment, any mention of 
demons.
Prince Ascelin sheathed his sword and slapped me on die shoulder. His face was 
gray with exhaustion, and all the lines in it had deepened, but he still managed 
a laugh. "Thought you could slip away without my knowledge, Wizard? You may have 
wanted to protect me from what you would find here, but it's not so easy when 
you've got the best tracker in a dozen kingdoms on your trail!"
I managed a smile in return. Let him think I had left him in Yurt out of concern 
for his safety. In fact, I hadn't thought about him at all, only wanting to get 
to Caelrhon myself as fast as I could.
"I used to be able to hunt all day and all night even on foot when everyone 
else was mountedwithout getting tiiis tired," he said, shaking his head 
ruefully. "Age is die best tracker of all; he gets on your trail and you never 
lose him. But by now I presume you've captured diis Dog-Man and have die 
children all ready to go home?" he added cheerfully, looking up at die jagged 
turrets of the castie. 'Terrible place, I must say, for children; good thing the 
twins didn't know about it when they were twelve. It looks like your man used a 
spell to hide their tracks a lot of die way, but he was going fast and must have 
had gaps in his spellsplenty there for me to follow."
I looked past him and the duchess to their daughters. "Celia?"
She gave me a grin. She still had all her hair and looked happier and more at 
peace with herself than she had all summer. "When you abandoned me like
316                              C. Dale Brittain
that, before I even had a chance to make my maiden vows, what choice did I have 
but to chase after you?"
"And," put in Hildegarde, "she wanted to help me find Antonia." She, like 
Ascelin, was wearing a sword.
Joachim stood at the rear, not saying anything. The part of me that wanted to be 
optimistic thought that bishops dealt with the supernatural every day, so 
Elerius and I could safely turn the demon over to him.
The part of me that was realistic knew that the aura of the saints around the 
bishop would so terrify the demon that he would refuse to talk to him at 
allmaybe retreating back to hell, but if so taking Antonia's soul irretrievably 
with him.
Before I could say anything to him, I saw past his shoulder a flying dark red 
shape approaching rapidly: the flying carpet. Justinia dipped it over our heads 
and Paul and Gwennie waved. "You're just in time to help out!" called the king. 
"There are a lot of eager parents waiting back in Caelrhon."
The carpet shot in through a broken window high above us. Everyone clattered 
through the gates and up the stairs to join them. It was much easier finding our 
way through the castle in daylight, and without having to worry about Vlad, than 
it had been at night, especially with the castle invisible around us.
But it had been, I thought, a cold sweat breaking out down my back, a very long 
time since Evrard had gone off in search of Vlad. . . .
The duchess went straight up to Justinia. "A pigeon-message arrived in Yurt for 
you about half an hour after you and the wizard flew off. It looked like it had 
been transferred a number of times: it was from Xantium."
"Didst thou mark who had sent it?" said Justinia eagerly.
"I did more than that," said the duchess, slightly shamefaced, producing it from 
her pocket. "I'm afraid
Daughter of Magic                         317
I read it. Well, everyone else who transferred it probably read it too, so why 
shouldn't I? It's from a mageI can't pronounce his nameand he says that your 
grandfather and the Guild have worked out their differences. He's going to come 
to Yurt himself to accompany you home."
"This is joy and gladness!" cried Justinia.
So, I thought, Vlad wouldn't have gotten anything from the Thieves' Guild for 
Justinia anyway. There were distinct disadvantages to traveling slowly and only 
by night: one's information could be seriously out of date.
Antonia ran to greet the twins, and Hildegarde swung her high over her head. 
"You had everybody worried, you scamp!" she said with a great laugh.
"I know," said Antonia seriously. "I didn't want to leave town without telling 
Mother. But I couldn't help it."
"That even happens to grown-ups sometimes," said Celia, smiling. She turned to 
Joachim. "Your Holiness, I have been thinking ever since yesterday, when we all 
left the nunnery so abruptly. I don't really have the vocation to be a nun. What 
took me there, I now realize, was only despair. Don't think" she added hastily 
as though the bishop had been going to interrupt, which he hadn't. "Don't think 
that I look down on women who want to devote their days to prayer. But I want to 
help others, not just worry about my own little sins. I intend to serve God but 
I will have to do so actively in the world."
"Are you certain this is your own decision, my daughter?'
Celia smiled again. "Well, it's certainly not my parents', if that's what you're 
wondering. You've been with us the whole time, so you know they haven't said 
anything one way or the other."
"Though I had to bite my tongue more than once," said the duchess with a grin. 
"And the fact that you're twenty-one now did nothing to stop me. Rather it was
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C. Dale Brittain
the memory of all the things that people used to tell me I couldn't do."
"I shall have to write to the abbess," said Celia more seriously. "She was very 
kind to me. And, Mother, we really ought to give the nunnery something. It's not 
their fault I changed my mind."
Paul and Gwennie were getting a second load of children onto the carpet, with 
Hildegarde's assistance. Justinia, delightedly reading and rereading the letter 
from Kaz-alrhun, was no help. Most of the children were awake now, and some of 
the boys suddenly decided it would be exciting to race off and explore the 
castle rather than traveling home again, even on a flying carpet. Hildegarde's 
long reach and her offer to let children who did not run off hold her sword 
stifled an incipient break.
"Maybe I should rethink those dozen children," said Paul to Gwennie, prying 
loose from his leg a sobbing girl who had been more terrified of the carpet than 
anything else until she saw Hildegarde's sword. "Even aside from what my queen 
would think . . ." He looked at her silently a minute. "Though I don't think 
I'll be getting myself a queen for a while. It's going to take me a very long 
time to find another woman who could be half as much my friend as you are." He 
let it hang, still looking at her, then suddenly turned and shouted to some 
boys, "Sit down again! Don't you know how dangerous it can be to stand up on a 
flying carpet?" This was a curious comment given that they had, for once, been 
sitting demurely.
"You realize," the bishop said to Celia, "you still cannot be a priest."
"I thought you would say that," she said soberly. "How about visiting the sick 
as your representative? How about talking to women who are confused and want 
spiritual guidance but have good reason to feel uncomfortable
Daughter of Macic                          319
around men? How about just sitting very quietly in the back of classes in the 
seminary?"
Joachim lifted an eyebrow. "You seem to have thought of a number of 
possibilities. I shall have to give the question of seminary classes some 
consideration. Many of the students are still trying to reconcile themselves to 
giving up close association with women. ... But then they will have to deal with 
women as well as men through their ministry for the rest of their lives," he 
added briskly. "Yes. When we are all home again, come-talk to me at the 
cathedral office, and we will see what can be arranged"
Celia kissed his ring with a barely concealed look of glee and hurried over to 
finish settling children onto the carpet. At last I had the bishop to myself.
For several minutes, surrounded by people who, if not reaching their hearts' 
desire, were at least working out compromises that might temporarily satisfy, I 
could put the demon out of my mind. But he was still there, trapped in the 
pentagram in the ruined chapel, not thirty yards away. He still had Antonia's 
soul. And unless I did something very soon, my nerve would fail me completely.
"I'd like you to give me the last rites, Joachim," I said quietly. 'Though it's 
not going to do much good. Antonia has sold her soul to the devil trying 
unsuccessfully to save Cyrus from his demonTheodora can give you the 
detailsand it's going to take my life and soul together to redeem her."
He was going to give me an argument. I just knew it. 'There's nothing you can 
do," I said, speaking rapidly. "You know priests can't exorcise people who have 
summoned demons themselves, only those who have been invaded by free-roaming 
demons. And you could use the liturgy to drive the demon out of this castle, 
certainly, but he would have her soul just as certainly."
Before Joachim could replyand he looked very ready to do soI heard a step in 
the passage leading to the
320                           C. Dale Brittain
chapel and whirled to see Elerius emerging through the doorway.
He was so haggard he could hardly stand. "Maybe you'd better try again yourself, 
Daimbert," he gasped. "That demon intends to drive a hard bargain." He noticed 
with vague interest the others who had arrived and then looked back at me from 
dark-rimmed eyes that had lost all their irony and calculation. "I haven't given 
in to his offers, if that's what you're wondering. It's the raw terror, I think, 
that wears you down, until he hopes you'll agree to anything just to get away. 
Watch! I can still walk right up to a bishop."
He staggered more than walked. "Even Cyrus can walk up to the bishop," I 
snapped, not completely sure whether to believe him, then stopped.
"Help me!" a voice echoed down the passage from the chapel. "Help me!" That was 
Cyrus's voice.
What could I do? For twenty-five years I had been trying to help mankind, 
sometimes with limited success, but trying. Without even making a conscious 
choice I flew down the passage into heat and darkness, gritting my teeth against 
the wave of evil waiting for me. And then I realized that Cyrus was not calling 
for my help.
"I can't go on without my powers! Help me get them back!" He was calling to the 
demon.
I dropped to the ground just inside the passage from the chapel and leaned my 
forehead against the stone doorframe. This was it. No matter what Cyrus was 
trying to talk the demon into, successfully or unsuccessfully, when I went in 
there to join him I wasn't going out. I hadn't gotten the last rites from the 
bishop, I hadn't said good-bye again to Theodora, but twice was all I could 
manage. If I had to face that raw terror and raw evil a third time, I would just 
have to let Antonia be lost.
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"And why should I grant any particular powers to you?" the demon was saying. "It 
is not as though you still possessed a soul with which to bargain!"
I looked a last time up the passageway, in the direction of daylight and the 
people I hoped I would never see again, because they, unlike me, would be in 
heaven. Elerius put his head into the passage but I waved him back, and he 
retreated, looking relieved.
"But I used to be able to do tilings!" cried Cyrus. "Good things! I helped 
children! I rebuilt the high street of Caelrhon, and they loved me for it! And 
now," his voice cracking, "the angels won't listen to me, and my demon is gone, 
and I can't do anything]"
Let the demon explain it to him, I thought, trying to take deep breaths to 
steady myself. The poisonous fumes floating across the room didn't help.
"You wizards really are difficult to deal with," said the demon, sounding 
irritated. "You always try to pin us down with specious protocols and bargains 
you have no intention of keeping, and then make ridiculous demands. Can't you 
understand that the demon who used to help you is no longer here?"
I was barely listening, trying instead to rally what little strength I had left. 
No more of this nonbinding conversation, in which a demon might blithely offer 
anything. I would force him to accept binding negotiations, in which he would 
swear by Satan's name to release Antonia in return for my immediate death and 
the reception of my soul in hell.
IV
There was a step behind me, and I whirled to see Theodora striding determinedly 
toward the chapel. She saw me but didn't stop until I wrapped my arms around 
her.
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C. Dale Brittain
"Please, Daimbert," she said in a very small voice. The bishop thinks I'm here 
to talk you out of it. My courage is going to evaporate in about thirty seconds. 
Let me go."
I knew immediately what she meant. "Joachim told you? But you can't! You don't 
know the terms for binding negotiations!"
"Then tell me," she said against my chest, "and tell me quickly. If one of us 
has to die to save Antonia, it has to be me."
"No, I can't let you!" I whispered. "Theodora, my last happy thought before 
descending into eternal torment is going to be knowing that you and Antonia are 
safe. I couldn't go on living if I knew that either of you was in hell."
"And you think I could if you were there?" she said, almost angrily but also in 
a low voice. 'The demon may be satisfied with my life and not insist on my soul. 
The bishop and Elerius told me that this demon already knows and distrusts you, 
but he's never met me. And listen," wiggling an arm out of my embrace to cover 
my mouth, "even in this world you're a lot more important than I am. I've 
thought all this through, so don't argue. The whole kingdom of Yurt needs you. 
The only person who needs me is Antonia, but she can live with you. The king 
might still be uneasy about a married wizard, but he'd be happy with the 
wizard's daughter."
She didn't want me to argue so I didn't, but there was no possible way I could 
agree. I held her so close that for a moment I imagined we might fuse into a 
single person. Life, even in a dark and fetid passage, seemed at the moment 
almost unbearably sweet "I've loved you ever since I met you," I murmured. "In 
six years you've given me more delight than most people experience in their 
whole lives. I do wish we might have been married,
Daughter of Magic                         323
just so I could say before God and all our friends how much I love you, but it's 
still all been worth it."
She tried to struggle but not very convincingly, and she couldn't speak with my 
mouth on hers. In the chapel, Cyrus and the demon were still talking. "Well, 
maybe there is something you could offer," the demon said cunningly. "I could at 
least consider giving you all the powers of black magic again, but first you 
have to let me out of this pentagram."
I spun around so fast that I knocked Theodora bruisingly against the doorframe. 
She gave a brief cry, but the sudden terror in her eyes was not of me. Still 
holding on to her, I plunged into the chapel.
It was too late. As I raced across the floor Cyrus finished rubbing out one of 
the main chalk lines. "I have indeed 'considered' giving you your powers back," 
said the demon to him with a leer that showed all his razor-sharp teeth, "and I 
have decided not to!" And with a white flash and a smell of brimstone, he 
vanished.
Cyrus gave a heart-wrenching cry as daylight reasserted itself in the room. No 
demon in the pentagram meant that the miasma of evil was rapidly draining away 
from hereand going wherever the demon was hiding now.
I advanced toward Cyrus, slowly now. He was huddled on the floor, his face on 
his arms, but he looked up as I reached him. I must have looked even worse than 
I felt for he gave a screech and fled up the passageway.
Theodora and I collapsed where we stood. She rubbed her shoulder absently. "I'm 
sorry if I hurt you," I said. It seemed so inadequate a comment that she didn't 
even respond.
"Does this mean" she asked instead, not daring to hope.
I shook my head. "It only means we have to have this whole discussion over. Now 
that the demon is loose
324                           C. Dale Brittain
there are all sorts of evil tricks it may tryand doubtless willand it still 
has Antonia's soul. We'll have to negotiate again once we corner it." As I spoke 
I wondered if I would have the energy for anything, much less chasing a demon, 
but I didn't have much choice. "If it doesn't want to talk to us that could take 
days. We'd better get everybody else safely out of here as fast as we can and 
call for the demonology experts from the school."
We walked slowly, hand in hand, up the passageway. The demonology experts would 
never let Theodora in on the negotiations, I thought. It was the single bright 
point.
Voices reached us as we walked up the passage, excited and cheerful; I wondered 
vaguely if I myself had ever felt that way. Only Elerius sat against the wall, 
his face in his hands. I wondered if he was regretting not taking the demon up 
on his offer of the leadership of the wizards' school. But everyone else seemed 
fully occupied.
The second load of children was gone, and the twins and their parents were busy 
trying to keep die rest togedier until the carpet returned for its final trip. 
Theodora took Antonia aside and held her in her arms, not speaking, until the 
girl started to become restless and wanted to join the other children in running 
around, but still Theodora held her. "Some of these youngsters are almost as 
rambunctious as you two were," said the duchess to her daughters.
They still didn't realize what was happening in the chapel, and I had no 
intention of telling them. "Prince Ascelin," I said, my voice coming out 
indescribably weary, "could you do me a favor?"
He looked up, extremely weary himself, but nodded.
"Somewhere, probably down in the lower, darker parts of the casde, there's an 
ensorcelled frog. Find him. But
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325
if you start to smell brimstone at any point or hear bones clattering, get right 
back here and tell me. The frog may have started turning back into a wizard, so 
he could be dangerous. I sent Evrard to find himyou remember Evrard, the 
redheaded wizard of Caelrhonbut he's not returned."
"I'll go, Father," said Hildegarde, jumping up. "You did all the tracking but I 
haven't done anything yet this trip." She hurried happily away before either 
Ascelin or I could say anything. He took two steps after her but then turned 
back with a smile. "I think Hildegarde can manage a frog on her own, even an 
ensorcelled one."
Joachim lifted his eyebrows at me from across the room, where he stood a little 
distance away from the rest. I walked slowly over to him. Cyrus lay on his face 
at the bishop's feet.
"All I ever wanted to do," the Dog-Man choked out between sobs, "was to be 
recognized and admired for doing well. When I realized how evil my master was I 
decided to break away from him and help little children to make up for killing 
Daimbert, which of course J had promised my master to do. I didn't mean to do 
magic in the guise of religion. That's why originally I avoided you when the 
people of Caelrhon started to talk of my doing miracles. But when I finally met 
you and realized that if I became as pure as you I really could do real 
miracles, and when the angels told me I had restored the burned street"
"You have sinned, my son," said Joachim gravely, "and sinned grievously. You 
have fallen through your pride and false belief that you can become truly good 
through your own, unaided human efforts. But"
"I'll say he's sinned," I growled, not caring if I was interrupting a 
confession. "He's just let a demon loose. And it's still got Antonia's soul."
326                           C. Dale Brittain
"But God always listens to the prayers of a contrite heart," the bishop 
continued as though he had not heard me. "He who sent His own Son to die for our 
sins will not forget us, if we are truly penitent and seek the redemption He 
offers." I decided not to mention that Joachim himself had once told me diat 
someone who sold his soul to the devil would not be saved until the devil 
himself was redeemed, at the end of time.
"I want to make restitution for all of it," Cyrus babbled. "For kidnapping the 
children, for my pride, for attacking Daimberteven if he did have it 
coming!for endangering sweet Antonia, the dearest of little girls." I didn't 
like the way it sounded on his tongue, even though I agreed with the sentiment 
"If I can only become worthy of you again, Holy Father"
"Do not try to be worthy of me," said the bishop sternly, "a sinning mortal like 
yourself. Prepare yourself rather to accept God's grace, which He brings to all 
of us diough none of us are deserving."
I turned away in despair and disgust as Cyrus began kissing the bishop's ring in 
abject gratitude. "Elerius," I said. "We've got a new problem. The demon's 
loose. I don't think I could fly a hundred yards, so we've got to wait for the 
carpet. But when we get everybody out of here and back to Caelrhon, you're going 
to call the demonology experts at the school. You're the one who plans to be in 
charge over them, so you can just find a way to persuade them that after they 
catch the demon again, they've got to negotiate for Antonia's soul before 
sending it back to hell."
He glanced up, looking disoriented. 'That sounds like a good idea," he said 
without any conviction.
"Unless you and I and Evrard can catch it first," I said with even less 
conviction.
"Where is Evrard?" he asked.
Maybe I should look for him while waiting for the
Dauchter of Magic
327
carpet. I pushed away from the wall, against which I had slumped, and headed for 
the stairs. I realized I probably hadn't eaten in twenty-four hours, so part of 
the hollowness in my belly might be hungerbut most of it was fear. My feet felt 
encased in lead, and I didn't even have the will left to keep going, only an 
inertial movement that wouldn't let me stop.
But I hadn't even left the room before Evrard himself staggered in.
He was covered with mud and trembling. But he managed a grin. "Who did you say 
transformed that wizard into a frog? You sure it wasn't you, Daimbert? Because I 
remember that mess you made way back in Zahlfast's exam, and this looks like 
your work. He must have gotten himself at least halfway turned back into a man."
Just what we needed: Vlad at large in the casde again when the demon was already 
loose. Evrard setded himself gingerly next to Elerius and me. His good humor had 
not yet deserted him. "A pretty sorry spectacle we make," he commented, "for 
three Royal Wizards."
He had found die damp prints of a frog on stairs going down to the storage 
cellars and followed them, finding his way through the dark passages by repeated 
spells of light. When his spells suddenly wouldn't work he knew that Vlad must 
have recovered enough of his powers to be able to block them. He never actually 
saw him, having quite sensibly retreated, but in the darkness he had become lost 
and at one point thoroughly mired in what must once have been the casde's cess 
pit. He had not seen Hildegarde.
Elerius and I looked at each other. "We can't wait for the demonology experts," 
I said. "We've got to find Vlad at once, now, before he finishes breaking out of 
Antonia's spell and gets his own weather spells working
328                           C. Dale Brittain
again. If we have to deal with him and a loose demon at the same time .. . 
Light's the only advantage we have. Torches might do: not damp ones kept alight 
by fire magic, but clear-burning ordinary torches."
'There are some dead pines growing out of the ruins lower down," said Evrard. 
"Some of the wood should have been protected from the rain. I'd have thought of 
that myself, but I didn't realize I'd need a torch until it was too late."
I put a hand to my aching head, trying to plan. If I could just put everything 
in the right order, it might make sense. First get the final carpet-load of 
children out of here, along with the bishop and the duchess with her family. 
Then go after Vlad. Three western wizards ought to be able to catch him, even 
three as weary as we were, as long as any of Antonia's spell held. Then contact 
the demonology experts and, with luck, have the demon back in the pentagram by 
tomorrow. Then make the bargain for Antonia's soul that Elerius had kept me from 
making today.
So I still had a day to five. Instead of feeling grateful "for the reprieve, I 
just felt at this point that I wanted to get it over.
Or maybe we should look for "Vlad first, even before the carpet returned from 
Caelrhon. And we had to find Hildegarde. I shook my head. My thoughts felt so 
fuzzy
Antonia trotted over. Ts Vlad that bad person I turned into a frog? I can help 
you catch him. The demon said he could do things for me, so I'll make him do it. 
He has to obey me because I'm Mistress of the Pentagrams."
"Antonia, no!" Elerius and I shouted together.
"I would just have him do it as a demonstration," she said, puzzled.
Theodora lifted her up. "Remember, you yourself said a demon can't be someone's 
friend," she said sternly. "Don't even think of talking to him again."
Dauchter of Macic
329
At the moment we still had some hope of saving Antonia. But at this rate, I 
thought grimly, the best negotiators from the school wouldn't be able to save 
herif they even cared to try.
"Vlad first," I said to Evrard and Elerius, managing to get back on my feet 
after only a brief struggle. "Come on."
"Where has Cyrus gone?" asked Elerius, looking around. The bishop was by himself 
now, standing by the window with his back to the room, his head bowed. "He must 
have been listening to our entire conversation with the demon."
"He's probably off in a comer somewhere vainly praying for forgiveness," I said 
with supreme indifference. "Evrard, once we have the torches you'll have to lead 
us, as well as you can, to where the magic of light failed you."
But we had gone only a short distance when Hildegarde came toward us at a dead 
run. She didn't even slow down as she passed, blond hair flying out behind her. 
In one hand she held a naked sword, streaked black with blood.
I turned back at once. The children screamed to see her, some in fear, some in 
simple excitement. Hildegarde stood for a moment looking wildly around, as 
though not seeing whom she was looking for or not even knowing who it was.
Then she spotted her sister. Letting the sword fall from her hand she threw 
herself onto her knees. "Celia," she gasped, "you've got to help me. I've sinned 
horribly. I've just killed somebody."
Celia dropped to her own knees and wrapped her arms around her sister. "Tell 
me," she murmured.
They immediately drew an intensely interested audience of a prince, a duchess, a 
bishop, and three wizards. But Hildegarde paid no attention to any of us. "It 
must have been the ensorcelled frog," she got
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out, her breath coming in great gulps. "I'd made a torch from a dead pine branch 
and was well down in the dark part of the castle. Several times I spotted what 
looked like damp frog tracks, and at one point I heard somebody cursing."
"I think that was me," muttered Evrard, "when I fell into the cess pit."
"But I still didn't spot anybody. Then I climbed over some fallen stones and 
sawit was horrible! It was partly like a man, but it had legs like a frog."
"Yes?" prompted Celia.
"He was mumbling to himself, and I don't think he'd heard me coming. But then he 
saw me, and he jumped at me with his frog legs, and his face was all white but 
he had these pointed teeth"
"And so you killed him," said Celia quiedy.
"Not yet. I threw the torch at him. That's when he started to come apart. But he 
was still coming. He was disintegrating, but the teeth especially, as though 
they themselves were alive That's when I put the sword into his heart."
Hildegarde started to sob then. "God still loves you," murmured Celia, rocking 
her like a child. "He loves us all, even terrible sinners."
Vlad had been preparing his spells again as fast as he could transform himself 
back into a man, I thought. He was ready for a wizard but not for a young woman 
carrying a torch. And it never would have occurred to him that she had a sword.
"As soon as he was dead," Hildegarde continued in a minute, lifting a 
tear-streaked face from her sister's shoulder, "he stopped being a frog at all, 
but he fell apart. That might have been the worst part of all. His arm fell off, 
and half his face. . . . There's nothing left of him now but scraps. And those 
started to stink, as though he'd already been dead for months." She looked
Daughter of Magic                         331
up toward Prince Ascelin. "Father, have you ever had to kill someone? When 
they're teaching you to fight, why don't they tell you how horrible it is? He 
might have been awful and half a frog, but at least he was alive until I got 
through with him!"
Vlad was dead. I turned away, not wanting Hildegarde to see the intense relief 
on my face. Now that we'd gotten rid of one nearly hopeless problem, the dark 
wizard, all we had left was the impossible one, the escaped demon.
Antonia put her head out from behind the bishop; I hadn't even realized she had 
been listening. With an expression of deep distress, she went over and put a 
hand gently on Hildegarde's shoulder. "Maybe you shouldn't try to be a knight 
after all," she said "It sounds too scary."
Ascelin swung her up and passed her, protesting, back to Theodora, who had been 
desperately trying to keep the rest of the children calm. But then he said 
soberly to his own daughter, "I think it's too late to make that choice. You are 
a knight now. There's a lot more to it than knowing how to fight. It looks like 
once we're home again I'd better start you on real training."
Hildegarde, still clinging to her sister, appeared not to hear, but Celia gave 
their father a quick smile over her head.
"Do you think," suggested Evrard in my ear, just as though I might need 
something else to worry about, "that the demon will try to reanimate Vlad?"
Before I could shape a reply, the castle shuddered to the clang of what might 
have been an unimaginably huge bell. For a second a wind reeking of evil fumes 
whirled through the room, then it whooshed down the passage toward the ruined 
chapel. I heard Cyrus's voice, but this time it was raised in a frenzied cry of 
pure triumph.
"I have my powers again!"
332                           C. Dale Brittain
V
The air at the entrance of the ruined chapel, when I slammed into it, had turned 
to glass. Of course. With the powers of black magic restored to him, Cyrus would 
have no trouble recreating Vlad's spell which had created an invisible barrier 
around the chapel.
I clawed at it frantically, then tried to calm myself enough to start on spells. 
The chapel was dark again, lit only by a deep, orange glow. If Cyrus had been 
able to locate the demon and persuade it to work with him, then it must now be 
there. If I could reach it I could bargain for Antonia's soul before anything 
else happened to stop me. I gestured for everyone else to go back and then 
turned away from them. This was between Cyrus and me now.
The spell that made the air solid remained impervious to my magic. But as my 
eyes grew accustomed to the dark I could see the pentagram glowing and the demon 
in the middle of it.
But the demon looked strangely different. He had been deep red with an enormous, 
quivering belly. Now he was cadaverously thin and colored a pale orange, 
although the fiery eyes and razor-sharp teeth remained unchanged. "Thank you, 
Master," he was saying, and even the voice sounded different. Its tone could 
have been mistaken for pleasant. "It is much more interesting on earth than in 
hell."
I stared until my eyes stung. When I had spoken to the demon, he had been in the 
right-hand of the two pentagrams Antonia had drawn. He was now in the left. It 
wasn't the same demon.
Dear God. Now we had two demons in the casde: Antonia's, merrily running around 
loose somewhere, and Cyrus's, trapped for the momentbut I feared only
Dauchter of Macic                       333
the momentback in the pentagram in which Antonia had imprisoned him before 
returning him to hell, from where Cyrus had once again summoned him.
At the moment I would almost have been willing to sacrifice all of us, me, 
Antonia, Theodora, Joachim, the duchess's family, and all the children, if the 
saints would just appear and open an enormous hole and send the entire casde, 
with both demons, down to hell. But this seemed very unlikely. If I was ever in 
a position to give advice on the metaphysics of creation, which had seemed less 
and less likely for some time, I would say that this business of free will had 
gone entirely too far.
"I want you to do something for me," said Cyrus urgendy to the demon.
"Of course, Master," he replied suavely. "Do not doubt for a moment I am yours 
to command. As long"and he showed all his teeth"as I have die opportunity for 
evil!"
"There's another demon in this casde," said Cyrus, talking fast. "Yes, the demon 
who captured you. I'm going to free you from the pentagram but only for a 
minute. You have to bring him back and put him in this other pentagram, and 
return here yourself."
And send Antonia's demon back to hell, her soul with it. I pounded desperately 
on the invisible barrier with my fists, widiout success. They couldn't hear me. 
Cyrus had doubdess taken tips from what Antonia had done and deluded himself 
that capturing the demon she had summoned would somehow be helpful. He did not 
realize diat he would thus destroy the one chance we still had to save her.
"There's a flaw in die other pentagram," commented the demon. "It would never 
hold him."
Cyrus looked around, frustrated, then spotted Antonia's lost piece of colored 
chalk, lodged against die base of the cracked altar, and snatched it up. Quickly
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C. Dale Brittain
he redrew the line that he himself had erased when Antonia's demon had lied to 
him, suggesting the restoration of his powers in return for freedom. He then 
turned and made a tiny opening in the pentagram around his own demon.
"Now, go!" he said when the demon seemed to hesitate. "And return at once. You 
have to obey me." And with a blinding flash, the demon vanished. There would be, 
I thought grudgingly, one advantage to selling your soul. No more having to 
negotiate with demons: they had bound themselves to obedience.
The chapel was now completely dark. Behind me I could hear people breathing, but 
none of them spoke. The only ones who could save us now were the saints, I 
thought, but they still seemed remarkably slow to become involved. We were 
reduced to waiting and watching Cyrus.
For a second the passage stank of brimstone, and a sudden onslaught of new 
terror made my bones feel as if they were made of water. With a loud bang and 
two flashes of light, two demons appeared in the pentagrams in the chapel. Cyrus 
redrew the line to imprison his.
"I order you," he cried, "as your Master, to return to hell!"
There goes Antonia's soul, I thought, closing my eyes. I wondered if it would be 
better to kill her with my own hands than to have her grow up to a life of evil. 
I doubted I could do it.
My eyes flicked open again. No! He was commanding his own demon. And it was 
already far too late to worry about his soul.
"But I've barely returned from hell, Master," replied the demon, sounding 
peevish and pulling thin lips back from his teeth. "I thought you were delighted 
to have your powers back!"
"And I intend to use them for good!"
Daughter of Macic                       335
"Doesn't that seem a little foolish? It's not as though you could still 'save' 
your soul, as that bishop you so admire would put it. Since doing good will help 
you not in the least, whereas doing evil"
"I don't care!" shouted Cyrus. "As your Master, I command you! Return to hell at 
once!"
"All right," said the demon reluctantly. "But don't expect me to answer so 
quickly the next time you summon me." With a flash and a thundering that shook 
the entire castle, he vanished.
The barrier collapsed before me. I started to leap forward, but a hand grabbed 
my collar and jerked me back. I spun around, furious, thinking it was Elerius.
It was Joachim. He shook his head and held on tight, with far more strength than 
I could have resisted at this point. There was just enough light for me to see 
the intensity in his eyes.
Cyrus staggered, almost falling. But with his powers of black magic gone, he 
whirled toward the other demon with nothing more than the strength of 
half-learned eastern magic and sheer human stubbornness. "By Satan, by 
Beelzebub," he cried, "by Lucifer and Mephistopheles. Binding negotiations!"
The bulging red demon came to life, and a sudden cloud of brimstone made all of 
us in the passage start desperately coughing, but Cyrus did not appear to hear. 
"Don't you realize you're negotiating from a distinctly weak position?" asked 
the demon with a leer. "Your soul already belongs to the devil!"
"I'm not offering my soul!" Cyrus shot back. "I'm offering my life!"
"Are you sure you wouldn't prefer nonbinding conversation?" asked the demon. He 
seemed to be growing more and more enormous, until his horns brushed against the 
ceiling. "A life for a soul is not a bargain I would care to accept."
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"For a soul to which you are not fully entitled," Cyrus said clearly, "I offer 
my life: a life which should have been long, eventful, and filled with whatever 
I most desired, because of the soul I long ago sold. You can kill me now, but 
you must return to hell at once, and as you go you must release Antonia's soul."
Vlad might never have dealt with demons himself, but he had certainly taught the 
art of demonology to his apprenticewho must also have been listening closely to 
Elerius and me.
The chapel and passage had become almost suffocatingly hot. "Those other wizards 
were also arguing about Antonia's soul," said the demon with a deep and 
resonating laugh. "I've never seen such stubbornness." He looked past Cyrus and 
showed his teeth. He knew very well we were there.
Joachim's grip tightened like steel, and his hand stayed perfectly steady.
"No!" cried Cyrus, furious. He was shaking so hard he could hardly stand, but 
fury and a kind of strange exultation kept him going. "She is below the age of 
reason, she never intended to sell her soul, she acted only from pure motives, 
and she did not even get what she requested of you, the other demon thoroughly 
back in hell, because I was able to summon him again. On any of these points you 
might argue, but not on all of them. She is not truly the devil's, and a life 
can redeem her."
"There are quite a few other people who are more than willing to throw away 
their lives for her," said the demon slowly, shifting his bulging belly. For the 
first time I even dared hope: by not denying what Cyrus had just said the demon 
had agreed with him. "Why should it have to be you?"
"Binding negotiations!" he almost screamed. "You have to answer!"
Dauchter of Macic                     337
There was a long pause during which I was afraid the demon would not say 
anything at all, but then he began to speak. "By Satan, by Beelzebub," he said 
slowly, fire shooting from his eyes, "by Lucifer and Mephistopheles. In the 
space of what you in the natural world call one minute, I shall return to hell, 
not to return to this world unless deliberately summoned by woman or man."
I couldn't have moved even if I wanted to. This was so close to being me. All I 
could do was listen, my eyes squeezed shut, for the slightest deviant word.
"I release, give up, and free Antonia's soul," the demon continued. "But before 
I go, you shall die. Agreed and accepted?"
At the last moment I thought Cyrus would change his mind. I opened my eyes to 
see him stiff and white. Any promptings from his conscience would have been the 
promptings of a conscience perverted by evil.
But then he turned his head and looked toward us. His eyes slid past me and 
stopped. Twice he opened and closed his mouth. Then suddenly his face took on, 
just for an instant, that look of shattering goodness that I had seen in him 
once before. He gasped out, very low but still intelligible, "Agreed and 
accepted."
The demon's booming laugh came one more time as he bent his mouth, huge now and 
filled with hundreds of teeth, toward Cyrus. "See you in hell!" he cried, and 
the air exploded.
When our ears stopped ringing and we could see again, the chapel was empty of 
life. Part of the outer wall had vanished, letting in morning sunshine on the 
two still-smoking but empty pentagrams and Cyrus's decapitated body. The bishop 
strode forward without hesitation and began reciting the last rites over him.
With only minimal hesitation, I followed him and dropped to my knees to begin 
rubbing out the pentagrams.
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If anybody else wanted to summon a demon to this castle, they would have to draw 
their own. I found the stub of Antonia's chalk and hurled it with all my might 
out into the empty air.
Joachim finished the words of the liturgy as I rose shakily to my feet from the 
flagstones. They were empty now of all but Cyrus's blood. The others had 
retreated back up the passage. "I should reconsecrate this chapel," said the 
bishop distantly. "Not today. I should come back with some priests next week and 
do it."
"Why did you stop me from going after Cyrus?" I asked, uninterested in 
consecrated chapels. "I presume he told you exactly what he intended to do?"
"No." Joachim held me with his dark eyes. "But I guessed his heart. He wanted 
somehow, desperately, to make amends for at least some of the evil he had done."
I grew weak all over again. "I thought you knew what you were doing the whole 
time and didn't want me to give up my life and soul needlessly when Cyrus, after 
all, had already forfeited his."
He was silent for a moment before answering. "I am the bishop, Daimbert. I could 
not have made a choice between you, if that's what you mean, even though I would 
have wanted to. All I knew was that he intended to atone for his deeds, and I 
had to give him the chance to do so." He paused briefly again. "And I think he 
has."
"He didn't think he could still save his soul at this point, did he?" I asked 
incredulously.
The bishop shook his head. "He wasn't trying to save his soul. He was trying to 
save Antonia's. He had finally come to the realization of just how deeply he had 
sinned in embracing evil: especially against the children and against you. He 
was trying to do good to you and to one particular child for the sake of 
goodness itself."
Daughter of Magic
339
"That sounds like pure motives to me," I said slowly. "So what happens to his 
soul? He's not going to make heaven after all, is he?"
Joachim shook his head again, and for a second die angles of his cheekbones gave 
the faintest approximation of a smile. "Religion is not like wizardry, reducible 
to formulae and protocols and spells learned from books. Only God can know a 
soul's ultimate destination. I myself, Daimbert," he hesitated briefly, "I think 
he might possibly be in purgatory."
We slowly returned to the others. Theodora was squeezing our daughter tight and 
crying hard. Antonia waved me over. "Why is Mother sad, Wizard? She says she 
isn't sad at all but she just keeps crying and crying. You can tell me what's 
wrong. I'm a big girl."
I put my arms around both of them, very close to crying myself. "Nothing's wrong 
at all. In fact, everything's right."
"Grown-ups are very strange sometimes," pronounced Antonia. I had to agree.
There was a cheerful shout outside, and the flying carpet sailed in again. "I 
think we can get the rest of you on here," said Paul, his usual vigor apparently 
completely recovered. "Whoof, what's that smell? Have you gotten the demon back 
to hell yet, Wizard?"
"Yes," said Elerius, answering for me.
"It was scary again while you were gone," said a little boy accusingly to the 
king.
Paul looked around in assessment, at the twins sitting by the window hugging 
each other, at the haggard looks on everyone's faces, at me clutching my family. 
"You didn't wait until I was gone to have adventures behind my back, did you, 
Wizard?" he asked suspiciously.
I shook my head. But the king, I knew, would feel that I had cheated him once 
again. This might be the last adventure I would ever be allowed to have where
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he himself wouldn't run a serious chance of being killed. The only solution, I 
thought hopefully, was to have Yurt go back to being the peaceful kingdom it 
always used to be.
As we were getting everybody onto the carpet, suddenly I said, "Wait. I need to 
get Cyrus's body. I'll tell you about it later, sire."
"We could always drop him into the old cess pit," suggested Evrard, loud enough 
for me to hear but not quite loud enough that I had to respond.
"He should be buried with honor in the cemetery at Yurt," I said firmly. "But I 
need something to wrap him in."
Paul handed me his cloak without a word and Gwennie added her apron. They waited 
while the bishop and I returned a final time to the chapel. Cyrus's head had 
rolled into a corner. We put it with the rest and wrapped him up carefully, 
making sure no bits were left exposed to terrify the children. When I lifted him 
with magic he hardly seemed to weigh anything at all.
"I'm sorry, my lady," said Paul to Justinia as the carpet shot away from the 
castle at last, "that you weren't in Yurt at a more propitious time. Usually 
it's not nearly this dangerous! But it will be good to have a chance to meet the 
mage; I heard all about him when I was little. You'll have to come back for a 
visit just to see us again, not to hide from your enemies. How about Christmas?"
"I fear," said Justinia with a shudder, "that it would be quite cold at 
Christmas."
"But I expect you've never seen snow," said Paul, somewhat uncertainly. "You 
might like it."
She shuddered again but did not answer. Gwennie, sitting on the other side of 
the king, gave a small smile intended for no one but herself.
Theodora squeezed my hand as we flew along. "I've been thinking, Daimbert," she 
said, very softly. "You
know you have For six years now you" She paused, apparendy embarrassed to go on.
"Yes?" I prompted.
She put her face on my shoulder and laughed a httle. 'That's it. You know what I 
mean. That's what I'm saying. Yes."
I pushed her away to look at her, feeling a great surge of hope. The dimple came 
and went in her cheek. This was not exacdy the most private place to have this 
conversation, sitting on a flying carpet surrounded by thirty children and 
several of the chief dignitaries of two kingdoms, but I didn't care. "Yes, 
you'll marry me?"
Elerius glanced toward us dien discreedy looked away. Theodora laughed and hid 
her face again. "We know we love each other," she murmured, "and for a while we 
were competing for who would die for the other. Everybody knows about us now, or 
at least everyone in Yurt and Caelrhon. Your king," dropping her voice even 
lower, "doesn't seem to plan to dismiss you for having a liaison with a witch. 
And your school's best graduate has been nothing but gracious to me. I said for 
six years tiiat I didn't want to marry you because marriage would destroy your 
career. Now that it's clear that it won't, it would be churlish of me to refuse."
I held her tight, too happy to speak for a moment. Warm summer air whipped past 
us as we flew. "I don't know where we'll live or what we'll do," I said then, 
"but we'll work out something. As soon as we get back to Caelrhon, or tomorrow 
for sure, after we've recovered, we'll have Joachim marry us."
Over her head I caught the bishop's eye for a second. On his lips was a genuine smile.
"And maybe," she added shyly, "we could think about a brother or sister for 
Antonia. Maybe not a dozen children like your king wants, but wouldn't it be 
exciting to have two?"
I looked over toward our daughter. She had climbed into Hildegarde's lap and was 
trying to cheer her up. "If you stop being sad," she promised, "I'll teach you 
how to turn somebody into a frog."
"Exciting," I said, "is not the word for it."