Street Magic - By Tamora Pierce Page 0,82

pockets, following the large garden around the house. Grasses sprouted in his wake, the burst of soaring green life rustling like the sweep of an imperial cloak. As he enjoyed the growing cool of the evening, Briar roused every plant and seed around him. People rarely crossed mages; it was his duty to remind the lady why tonight.

Evvy stirred, her head banging. She lay on some kind of mattress. When she sat up, she discovered that her hands and legs were free; the blindfold was gone. She was in a dark room, but the door had a panel in it that was carved. Flickering light shone in from outside.

She heard footsteps in the distance. "… don't know how much juice she's got." It was crisp-voice; Ikrum, the Vipers had called him. "She was shaking and all over sweat after she pulled those stones out of the wall."

"If she is strong, we must keep her drugged, until she sees reason. She will destroy no walls here"

Evvy would never mistake this lovely female voice. It was Lady Zenadia's, and she was not far from the door.

Life as a slave and a thukdak meant learning to think fast at bad moments. She wanted her power for later; she did not want to be drugged again. Evvy thrust her magic away, into the stone of the floor, the wall and the ceiling of her room, into stone walls above her room. She saw her power in her mind's eye, fizzing its way through marble and slate: it built a picture of the house above for her. She thrust and thrust at her magic, sending away as much as she could, leaving her body with just a trickle of it while voices murmured outside, and keys jingled, and the door swung open.

Evvy shaded her eyes against fresh lamplight. When she could see past the glare in her vision, she saw the lamps were carried by a tall, thin Viper and a servant woman who bore hers on a tray. They followed Lady Zenadia and a pale white woman whose clothes were styled like those worn by the eknubs west of Chammur.

Evvy moaned and collapsed onto her pallet again, keeping her eyes covered. "My lady, I'm sorry," she said in a tiny voice. "My head hurts."

A billow of some unusual scent washed over her; expensive silk rustled. Evvy uncovered her eyes. The lady sat on a low chair she had drawn up. She watched the girl over her veil with concerned eyes.

"Ikrum, you may have given too much potion the second time," the lady said, resting a cool hand on Evvy's cheek. "My dear child, welcome to my home."

She had seen people around the nobility often enough to know how to act like one. She grabbed the lady's hand and kissed it, struggling to sit up. "Thank you! I thought the Vipers would kill me, and Pahan Briar wouldn't let me come live with you! If I'd known they were bringing me to you I wouldn't have been so bad…" She kissed the lady's hand again, and promised she would scrub every part of her that touched the lady with strong soap when she was free.

The lady gave a small gasp of polite surprise. "Do you mean to say you wished to accept my offer?"

Evvy nodded briskly, then clutched her temples. That was no show for the lady: her head banged like a drum.

"Something for her headache, if you please?" The warmth fled the lady's voice as she looked at the healer, a mistress giving an order to a servant. The healer took a cup from the tray held by the maid, looked at Evvy, then added something to it from a vial on the tray. She swirled the contents of the cup, then crouched beside Evvy.

"How strong is her power?" the lady asked the healer.

The healer shook her head. "I feel only a residue, mistress. There are medicines I must give her to offset the magical draining. Did that boy teach you nothing?" the healer asked Evvy. "Young mages must not overextend. The damage could be permanent."

"I thought they were going to hurt me," Evvy grumbled. There was no help for it; she would have to drink whatever was in that cup, or the lady would be suspicious. She prayed it wasn't a drug that would fuzz her mind again. "Is that for my head?"

The healer passed the cup to Evvy, who drank its contents with a prayer. The banging in her temples slowed; the