The Black Swan by Mercedes Lackey Read Free Book Online Page B

Probably her father had, too; they must have been new in his great-great grandfather’s time, if then.
    It ought to be easy enough to work out a way to send the dirt elsewhere without damaging the fabric. If the colors proved to be faded, she would conjure up the old brightness.
    She smiled, pleased with herself. She needn’t even say anything to him; that was the best part of the plan. He’d see for himself what she’d done the moment he entered the manor.
    As for the next of his magics for her to master—she picked a direction almost at random, full of relief that she had a course of action at last. I have the transformation spell; I should work out the binding spell, too, and a counter for it. Newly energized by her plans, she wiped the tablet clean and put it aside, the broken stylus with it. It occured to her, as she entered the Great Hall and looked up at the tapestries, that there would be other applications of magic to clean fabrics. She could set the spell on every fabric in the manor; curtains would no longer collect dust and cobwebs, bed linens and blankets would stay fresh, clothing would not need laundering—
    Practical and pleasurable for me, too, she thought with amusement. And it will further free the Silent Ones for other tasks, which will please Father even more. Well, it isn’t a fact yet, and it won’t be unless I can work it out.
    The trick, of course, was to remove every bit of dirt without removing other things—the nap of the velvet, for instance, or jewels and bits of gold thread. Not the Law of Similarity, then. She nibbled her lower lip as she paced the perimeter of the room, staring up at the tapestries and the banners above them. I may have to clean each element in the tapestries separately. That would complicate her work, but it might be the surest and safest road to success. Let me see; there’s an easy spell to take the tarnish off metals—I can find out what it does to the gilt threads up there. . . .
    She chose an insignificant corner of one of the least important hangings, and carefully insinuated her spell into the weave of the tapestry, observing the effect, and calculating changes.
    With a little more experimentation, she felt confident enough of her results to bind the three spells she’d chosen together, and set them loose on the walls. By this time, she’d gathered a crowd of Silent Ones, for magic attracted them. She felt their interest as a force of its own. A glowing mist, rather than dancing colored motes, enveloped the tapestries in a rosy haze. It was quite pretty, as if dawn-tinged clouds had invaded the hall to dance up and down the tapestries.
    She’d reckoned that it was better to be sure than swift, so the spells worked slowly and there was no perceptible change at first, except for a growing pile of soft dust mixed with soot in the center of the floor. No more than a smudge at first, then a slight hummock, then a real pile—as the filth was removed from the tapestries, it had to go somewhere, and she had decided to make a pile of it and sweep it out of the way as soon as the tapestries were clean. Besides, she was curious to see just how much dirt had accumulated up there over the years. It was the sort of thing that gave an otherwise dull task a touch of pride and accomplishment.
    Slowly, layer by layer, the hangings showed their true colors, and all the details of their weavings. The sheer amount of detail startled her when she realized how much there was—what she had taken for plain, dark backgrounds proved to be intricate landscapes straight out of a nightmare; sinister caverns with shadowed shapes lurking behind rock formations, and haunted forests peopled by half-animated trees with tortured limbs. The glint of very tiny gems gave an uncanny spark to eyes, catching the light unexpectedly and in startling ways. Not exactly the most pleasant of subjects, but very effective. The use of jewels and gilded