The Magician of Hoad by Margaret Mahy Read Free Book Online Page A

It was strange that he should be here and not there among the other Lords, where fortunes and futures were being settled. Heriot could tell Great-Great-Aunt Jen’s anxious welcome was not simply because he was the rock upon which so much of their prosperity depended. Some other anxiety was involved. Her voice rose with a vague desperation, and for the first time in his life Heriot heard her say something that was almost a lie.
    “What boy? The place is full of boys.”
    Lord Glass laughed and patted her arm. His next words were lost, but then a slight turn of his head brought his voice clearly to Heriot’s ears. “And, Jenny, we’re too old for these games, you and I. Word’s got around. Even out here people enjoy gossip, and gossip flows. So just put the perplexing Heriot here before me, please. You might as well do it now as later.”
    Great-Great-Aunt Jen slowly turned and looked over at Heriot, sitting in his corner, the cards spread out in front of him in their four suits—Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. She crooked her finger at him, so he carelessly swept his cards together before he rose and, sliding them into his pocket, walked reluctantly across the courtyard. Great-Great-AuntJen met him and took his hand, placing him directly before Lord Glass.
    “This is my great-great-nephew Heriot Tarbas, my lord. He’s a good boy, very dear to us all. I don’t know what you’ve been told, but he’d never intend any harm to Hoad, the land, or the King. In many ways I don’t think he believes they exist.”
    “Well, I am here to convince him they do,” Lord Glass replied. “Hello, Heriot Tarbas… your fame has gone abroad in the most gratifying way.”
    From behind Lord Glass, Wish was making impatient signs to Heriot, so he made a clumsy, ducking movement that was his idea of a bow. “Now I’ll come to the point at once, something that I almost never do. Someone tells me you have had a vision of a sort. Is this true?”
    Heriot’s thoughts began to run quickly but somehow coolly. He shot a look at Great-Great-Aunt Jen, then looked back to Lord Glass.
    “I warn you I shall take silence for assent,” said Lord Glass a little sharply. “Don’t stand there looking stupid, because by now I know a lot about you. I know you’re not stupid, and if you pretend to be, I will get cross, and we won’t get on. Don’t you think that would be a pity?”
    “My lord, you’re confusing him,” Great-Great-Aunt Jen cried indignantly.
    “Come now, Jenny, he’s not so very confused,” Lord Glass said. “I’ll swear he knows exactly what I’m talking about. Heriot, I didn’t come alone. Just look toward the gate there, and my companions will ride through.” He raised his gloved hand by way of a signal. “First, on the bayhorse, comes Dr. Feo, the Queen’s astrologer and the master of the King’s clocks. He is very wise and tutors noble children in Diamond. And behind him, look carefully, is that a face you know? Ah, I see it is.”
    The second rider, on a white horse, pushed his white hood back from his bloodred hair, and it was the Wellwisher, the Assassin of his vision. This time he was dressed entirely in white, his face painted and powdered white, but Heriot was in no doubt about whom he was seeing. The pale blue eyes with their dreadful emptiness, the straight nose under the dyed and braided glittering hair were part of his memory forever. He would always recognize the single nature of this creature, who seemed entirely without the many falterings self-doubt puts into the human heart.
    “Oh, I’d definitely say you were recognized, wouldn’t you, Cloud?” Lord Glass fluted cheerfully, lifting his eyes from Heriot’s stricken face.
    The long lips parted. “He recognized me,” said Cloud in a very soft voice, little more than a whisper, touching the corner of his eye reflectively as though minutely adjusting his vision, and then falling silent again.
    “It is the recognition, you see,” said Lord Glass.