Amber spent the next two days studying the spells. Both of them had to be done on Lammas Night, which gave her only a few days to make a decision and prepare for whichever spell she chose to use. Ysetta came every day, but didn't nag her, which made Amber wonder what sort of temper Marius had and how he had treated Ysetta when he was alive—aside from the way he had seduced her and planned to cast her aside when she had served his purposes.
It would serve him right if I did banish him. And would I be doing Ysetta any favors if I did bring him back? Only if he could be persuaded to marry her and treat her well... Persuaded—or forced?
She even went so far as to start looking for a geas—a spell that limited the subject's free will. If there was one thing she didn't trust at all, it was Marius's free will. Of course, putting a geas on someone without his consent wasn't exactly white magic. She shouldn't do it; she knew that. She wasn't sure she could make herself do it, no matter how annoyed she was at Marius and how much she liked Ysetta.
But maybe I don't need a geas; maybe I can do something with the link. After all, he was the one who set it up, so using that would not be against his will—his expectations, perhaps—but not his will. It wouldn't be black magic.
By Lammas Night she was ready. She took Ysetta up on her offer of help, putting her in a separate circle where no harm would come to her or the baby. Then she cast the main circle and started the spell that Ysetta had asked for. Come to think of it, this was the spell Marius had wanted as well. Be careful what you wish for, Marius...
The spell was tiring—and dangerous if one got careless, but Amber was not careless, and she had studied it thoroughly for days, trying to anticipate every place where something could go wrong. Even so, she proceeded slowly and carefully. But the spell worked just as it was supposed to, and eventually Marius lay on the floor at her feet, alive and breathing. Exhausted, she sank to her knees beside him, shielding him momentarily from Ysetta's sight.
His eyes flickered open and he smiled up at her. "My love," he whispered, "I knew you would save me."
Amber frowned at him, pressed her hand over his mouth to silence him, and shifted so he could see Ysetta. "Your promised wife saved you," she informed him softly, "with the help of your daughter. I merely reformed the link you inadvertently broke." She lowered her voice further to continue, "And I didn't tell Ysetta how you broke it. She thinks you love her and the baby, and if you wish to remain alive, you had better. They are your tie to this world; lose either of them and you die again."
Marius glared up at her. "You've trapped me," he whispered angrily, too softly for Ysetta to hear.
"You trapped yourself," Amber whispered back. "As you may remember from your attempt at the travel spell, breaking your link to them breaks your link to this world. All I did was correct your error."
She raised her voice, turning to Ysetta. "I'll stay long enough to dance at your wedding, if your father will give me house room—I certainly can't stay here unchaperoned—and then I can go home."
Taking her dagger she cut a break where the two circles touched so that Ysetta could join them. As Ysetta held Marius in her arms and showered kisses on his face, he did seem to become a bit more resigned to his fate.
"It was a lovely wedding," she told Sammel when she finally reached the school. "Everyone was delighted—with the possible exception of the groom."
Sammel looked concerned. "I wouldn't have felt safe leaving that grimoire in his possession."
"I didn't either," Amber grinned at him. "I took it in payment for my services to him. It will be a nice addition to the school library."
Sammel laughed in delight and hugged her. "It will indeed."
Amber hugged him back with enthusiasm. It was good to be home.
S.M. and Jan Stirling
A premonition of death touched Narvik the Sorcerer as he walked through the fair, the feather-light brush of a dark wing across his eyes. He turned and followed as the feeling drew him across the fairground; it was never wise to neglect the unsought omen.
He tossed long blond hair from his face as he walked, intent on the inner vision, blue eyes thoughtful and slitted against the sun, heedless of those who stepped warily aside from his passage.
The vision drew him to a fortune teller's booth; he stood surprised and a little at a loss. A woman dressed in gaudy rags hunched over her rune sticks like an arthritic crone, casting the carved wood and mumbling. Two boys crouched before her, listening avidly. Suddenly the chubby boy turned cherry pink and his friend stark white. She leaned towards them and they recoiled a little, like dogs before a snake.
A charlatan, he thought. And yet... Reluctantly, he dropped into a light trance and probed gently; with a shock of surprise he felt himself skillfully blocked.
The woman turned her head slowly, unerringly, towards him. Her customers fled as soon as her gaze released them.
Younger than I! he thought in surprise. But very homely. Her nose resembled a generous wedge of cheese, below was a mouth like a slit cut into raw dough, deep-set brown eyes burned beneath wiry brows under a high, narrow forehead. Her hair, under a brown hood, was a frizz of black curls, but clean. The dark eyes watched him coldly, above a smile sly with malice.