Street Magic - By Tamora Pierce Page 0,70

of it across the windowsills.

Evvy sat against the far wall in the middle of a nest of cats. She was toying with the stones she had brought from home and pouting.

"What did you do?" asked Briar. He fought to keep a grin off his face.

"I didn't mean anything by it," Evvy whined.

"She had her nose in the mouth of a jar of Must-Sleep powder and was about to inhale," Rosethorn said tartly from the top of the stair. She stood with ajar braced on one hip. "I told her not to go poking in the workroom."

"I wanted to know how it smelled," grumbled Evvy.

Briar shook his head. "And if you'd taken a big whiff, you'd be asleep for months," he informed her as sternly as he could. "You have to obey Rosethorn. She mostly doesn't give orders without good reason."

"Mostly?" Rosethorn murmured, coming down the stair. Briar stepped aside to let her pass. "Just mostly?"

"Sometimes you give orders to be crotchety," Briar whispered as she went by. He watched as she put the jar by the front door. "What's that?"

Rosethorn stretched, hands pressed against the small of her back. "I'm about set for those farmers," she explained. "I've packed every last seed for the fields. You can help me bring it down here. Her, too." Bending down, she dragged a finger through the line of powdered herbs across Evvy's door. "Come make yourself useful," she told the girl as the freed cats raced out. "And don't get into anything."

"I just wanted to see how it smelled," Evvy grumbled as she followed Briar and Rosethorn upstairs.

The fruit of Rosethorn's rooftop endeavors, the clover, bean, and corn seed harvested and mage-dried to keep them from rotting, had been packed into jars and sealed with wax. They had to be carried downstairs. So did a dozen sacks of grain. Rosethorn had poured her magic into them, giving them the strength to become a fast-growing winter crop, hardy enough to survive the rainy season. Last of all were small kegs of a growth potion, a small drop of which could fertilize an acre of land for years.

As soon as everything was clustered before the front door, they set about preparing supper. Briar had bought his cooked chicken on the way home; Rosethorn had made lentils and noodles during the day. Once the food was served, Rosethorn worked a protective circle to keep the mewing and yowling cats from climbing on the table.

"They'll get fed," she told Evvy, who seemed much chastened. "But we work hard for our food here, so we get to eat first."

Once he'd devoured a bowl of noodles and lentils and a chicken leg, Briar asked, "Won't you need me to help you in the fields?"

Rosethorn shook her head. "Most of the work's done. I'll be gone three or four days. You two will have to manage without me." She glared at Evvy. "I'm putting wards on the workroom to keep you out. You don't go in until you learn to read."

Evvy nodded, eyes wide.

"Aww, you're getting soft," Briar teased Rosethorn. "Time was you'd have skinned anyone who fooled with your pots."

"I may do that yet," Rosethorn replied, with an extra glare for Evvy. "A mage's workroom is not a spice merchant's shop. Our brews can kill people, or worse. When do you start teaching her to read?" she asked Briar.

"Tonight," he replied, carving more chicken. "I got her a surprise at the market."

"Just make sure it isn't a surprise for me, too," Rosethorn said, wiping her lips. "Will you two be all right the time I'm gone? Earth temple would probably let you move into the guest house – "

Briar shook his head. "We'll be fine."

"Did the lady ask about me?" Evvy asked Briar. "What was her house like?"

Rosethorn propped her head on her hands. "Yes – what was it like?"

"The gardens are… very healthy," answered Briar. "Especially the biggest one. And it's fancy inside, all marble and stone inlays, expensive wood, silk, velvet, gilding. She asked about Evvy again, but I think she listened this time, when I told her no." He added more details about the art he had glimpsed and what the lady wore, used to such descriptions after four years of living among females who wanted to know how others lived. He didn't mention his conversation with the mutabir and his mage. The more he thought about it, the more it troubled him. Rosethorn would need a clear mind to do the work she intended to