Page 32 of Feathered Thief

“I’m not following your purpose,” she admitted.

Bogumil fell back in his chair. “A stumbling?—”

“What I don’t understand is your reasonto ‘weed out’ potential curse-breakers. Don’t you want the spell to be broken?”

“Of course I do! Look. Any serious spell-breaker will come to this boring place of yours for a good night’s sleep and a nutritious meal. But all the thrill-seekers will head straight for the bright lights, loud music, drink, cake, and dancing. I made the Quest Inn look like the most shocking thing since lightning eels. Why, it’s so much fun, I almost trapped myself in it! Guests are free to leave whenever they like. But they neverdolike, if you take my meaning.” He grinned.

“I see.”

So much for her retirement plan. She should have known this clever magical leech would quantify her magic and latch on. For her, there could be no escape from responsibility.

Late that night, Euzebia looked in her hand mirror, wielded her magic to subtly age her appearance, then studied her lined face and sighed. “No one needs to know that I run this place now.”

From that day on, she was Madame Kaczmarek.

Bogumil’s stumbling block proved to be shockingly efficient at weeding out thrill seekers. The Quest Inn’s lights burned at all hours, glasses clinked, and lively music stole the villagers’ sleep.

After Euzebia’s plump cook arrived, delighted to come out of retirement, the menu improved, and business picked up. Serious treasure hunters and sensible travelers kept her magically soundproof inn solvent, and she soon settled into thisnew lifestyle. Monitoring the results of Bogumil’s Quest wasn’t difficult. But why the WMC had chosen an inexperienced part-fay mage to lead its first magical-crime investigation in centuries was something of a puzzle.

What were they thinking?

Did they choose him just to spite her after she urged them to renew the WMC but refused to be its Head Mage? If they did, she was in no position to criticize, since she had so far avoided all responsibility associated with her magical gifts.

After marrying Warin Lisiewicz for his looks and charm, recognizing too late that his politically ambitious father had pushed him to marry an heiress, she had withdrawn from life, attempted to extinguish her emotions, and nearly succeeded . . . until Kazimierz was born. The gift of her son had renewed Euzebia’s faith and restored meaning to her lonely life. Since then, she had quietly thwarted many of her husband’s nefarious dealings, provided Geoffroi and Solara as much freedom as possible, and done her best to raise her only child to be an honest man.

All those years, she had guarded her secrets so closely that only two other people in the world—King Ryszard and Ludwik—had known that she was quite possibly the most powerful mage alive.

But now, the World Magic Council knew, including Bogumil.

Her secret was out, and Kazik was on his own.

But his sweetheart needed her help.

10

APPLE AND FRIEND

When the freckle-faced boy smiled at her and his brown eyes twinkled, she felt carefree, happy—even giddy.He likes me!

“Coming, Lenka?”

Wait. That voice wasn’t right . . .

The boy’s eyes held her gaze for an instant longer . . .

Then he vanished, the happiness faded, and her eyes opened into darkness. It happened almost every time. As soon as she became aware that she was dreaming, she would wake with a sense of loss. Why could she never remember her dreams?

“Lenka? Are you awake?”

“I am now. Coming, Papa.” She sat up on the mat and folded her blanket.

Careful to avoid cracking her head on the loft’s slanted ceiling, Lenka dressed quickly, then pulled a little wooden horse from a secret pocket in her kirtle, laid it on her lap, and began to braid her hair into a long rope. The loft was dark yet, so she couldn’t see her toy, but she’d long since memorized every detail. Someone special had carved it for her. Someone in her forgotten past.

Someone who loved her.

I will always love you,the little horse—she called him Zeke—spoke into her imagination.Never doubt it.

“I love you too,” Lenka whispered. She had rubbed the toy so often for comfort that it was polished to a shine. Her toy horse and her apple tree were all she had left of whatever life she’d lived before coming here.

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