Scent of Magic by Andre Norton Read Free Book Online

refused a third. Willadene tossed what she held in the palm of her hand from her and quickly caught up the flask.
    It was one of those Halwice had made particularly for her uses from which only one drop at a time would issue. Now the eyes ordered three drops over what had already begun to smoke in the brazier.
    The smoke thickened. It seemed to take the form of a cord which grew ever denser. When it had reached near Willadene's own height it began to spiral, and that spiral moved—to surround Halwice, hiding her totally from sight.
    Willadene stumbled back against the counter. The scent was full fragrance of the richest kind, almost enough to smother one. And she was not even within its hold.
    For a moment, which seemed to last past an hour, it curtained Halwice from sight. Then, as one might snap fingers, it was gone. Halwice was moving, raising her hands from her lap, turning her head from side to side, as if she was testing the disappearance of her bondage.
    Then she spoke, “Star sent you here this day. But this coil is not yet untwined.” She tried to stand but collapsed once more onto the chair. “Time, I need time, and I think there is very little of that left. Child, clear away all this—'’ she nodded at the brazier, the flask, and the packet “—to their proper places. We can at least hope that the one who set the dark spell does not learn—or at least soon—that there is the means of breaking it under this roof.
    “You came for spices.” Her voice grew ever brisker as she spoke. “Will you be missed?”
    Willadene's flight seemed very long ago, wiped out by her labors here.
    “I was not sent, mistress, I—I ran,” she confessed.
    “From what?”
    “Jacoba. She would sell me for a good bride price to Wyche— I think that is why she has kept me.” Willadenetwisted her hands in the rags of her apron. “And, mistress, she has such a right, the Reeve will say so.”
    “So. Wyche—” Halwice repeated the name as if it stood for some offal. “Jacoba is no member of the council to say that the Reeve will allow her to dispose of you so. It is not quite as easy as she believes. I have not gone against her for these past few years—for reasons which are quite removed—but now, now I will take a hand!” She said that with the authority of one well used to giving orders and having them straightway obeyed.
    “However—first there will be a game we must play.” She made another effort to rise from the chair; however, it was very apparent that some weakness defeated her and her usually emotionless face showed an increasing frown.
    “What about him—the dead man?” Willadene pointed to the curtain of the inner room.
    Halwice, with great determination, had managed to get on her feet, and Willadene hurried to offer her support, her question unanswered. It was not until Halwice, leaning heavily on her, reached the counter to which she swiftly transferred her hold that the Herbmistress spoke.
    “He is not dead—and can be dealt with later. But for now—- Can you manage the shutters?'’ She nodded toward the still-closed front of the shop. “Try to attract as little attention as possible. It must seem to any watcher to be as always—ready for business.” However, there was a look of strain on her face now, and the girl could see that her hold on the edge of the counter was tight.
    That tenseness was shared by Willadene. She could make no possible guess at what had happened, or was going to happen, but she was very willing to follow any orders in order to please the gaunt-faced woman struggling in her own battle.
    Outside in the street she tried not to fumble too much in the unfamiliar task set her. There were three other nearby shops, but luckily their proprietors were out of sight within and there seemed to be only a few passersby—noneof them, she assured herself by a quick glance now and then, paying any attention to her.
    When the last of those night barriers swung back, ready to be secured