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

“I understand your boy has not left the farm, and Cloud will swear, moreover, that they have never met, for he has never once been here. And yet apparently the boy described him in detail, and news of that description has seeped over to the old battlefield.”
    Great-Great-Aunt Jen looked around the circle of faces as Wish came up from the stable and stood behind the women and children.
    “Someone has been talking of Heriot’s illness,” Great-Great-Aunt Jen said to him. “I hope it was no one in our family.”
    Lord Glass signaled to Dr. Feo and Cloud, dismounting as he did so. “People will do it, Jenny, they will do it,” he said cheerfully.
    “The boy’s mother had better be sent for,” said Great-Great-Aunt Jen in a resigned voice, and she gave Heriot’s shoulder a reassuring pat. “Baba, get your mother, will you? Wish, it might be a good idea to call Radley in. Come, my lord. Will your companions come with you?”
    “Oh, Feo will. I may need him, and somehow I think it would be hard to keep him out,” Lord Glass replied. “He’s such an enthusiast. Now, Cloud would prefer to stand here by the door, wouldn’t you, Cloud? He’s a very observing creature—and his presence always makes people
think
, you know, and to my mind that’s always a good thing, particularly out here in the country where we can easily become so casual.”
    “Anna,” Great-Great-Aunt Jen cried as Heriot’s mother arrived from work in the still room, wide-eyed and anxious. “Don’t worry, Anna. Nothing’s wrong, but come to the big room with us. Baba—will you and Joan bring wine and cakes?”
    Lord Glass, following Great-Great-Aunt Jen, marched through the house into the big room with a self-confidence Heriot resented. Lord Glass promptly seated himself at the head of the table, inviting Great-Great-Aunt Jen, with a courteous wave of the hand, to sit in one of her own best chairs, and pointing Dr. Feo to another. Lord Glass’ssmoky eyes flitted with curiosity over the glass lamps and the carved chests where curtains and blankets were kept folded in dried camphor and lavender. Baba and Joan carried in trays of glasses and goblets.
    “Very nice, Jenny,” Lord Glass said. “Oh, it warms my heart to see that you have fallen on good times. So well-deserved, too! And now, Heriot, you’re not the first person we’ve met who is reputed to have had a vision. Feo here is quite an expert on visions, so I want you to tell him everything you can about yours, particularly what it felt like. And, in return, Feo may be able to help you understand what happened.”
    “Speak up, Heriot,” said Great-Great-Aunt Jen. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.” But she was frightened herself, even as she said this, so it was not in her power to comfort him.
    Dr. Feo was a slender, stooped man with a grimacing smile that curved his lips down rather than up. He had very long, well-kept hands. He smiled at Heriot now, folding these hands one over the other as he prepared to listen. Heriot, speaking into the space between Dr. Feo and Lord Glass, began telling the story of his courtyard vision. Born on a farm, he had often seen blood, for animals were always being killed and cut up for food, but as he recalled Carron’s face and his lively lips spilling words and blood with equal passion, he stumbled and grew silent, putting his hand over his left eye, his puzzled one, to stare hard at Lord Glass for a moment before he dropped his hand and looked at the floor again.
    “Well, Feo?” said Lord Glass. “Is this child a Magician of Hoad, or is this another wild goose chase?”
    “How could he be a Magician of Hoad?” asked Heriot’s mother. “The Magicians of Hoad are madmen… so empty of themselves that something else talks through them. That’s what we hear of Izachel, the King’s Magician.”
    Lord Glass saw Heriot glance at her and read something in his expression.
    “A good point!” he agreed. “Izachel is a Magician, and like