Ithanalin's Restoration. Lawrence Watt-Evans

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СКАЧАТЬ she called, “you keep hold of those things, but could you send the kids out here to help me?”

      “All right,” Yara replied. Kilisha could hear her retreating footsteps.

      “Excuse me, sir,” she called to a nearby pedestrian. “Did you see a coat-rack go by?”

      “I think so,” the man answered uncertainly.

      “Which way did it go?”

      “Um…that way,” he said, pointing west.

      Muttering to herself, Kilisha set out back down Wizard Street.

      She had gone less than a block when she spotted the coat-rack, its square peak visible over the heads of the handful of intervening pedestrians.

      “Stop!” she called. “Coat-rack! Come back!”

      The top of the coat-rack vibrated at the sound of her voice, but it did not come to her; instead it stepped sideways, as if looking for an alley to hide in. It ducked behind the open door of a shop—Adagan the Witch was sweeping out, and had his door at right angles to the frame.

      Kilisha let out an annoyed sigh. She turned to see whether the children had emerged yet.

      Telleth was leaning out the door of the shop, looking puzzled.

      “Telleth!” Kilisha called. “Come here, please!”

      Hesitantly, Telleth came. Lirrin and Pirra appeared in the doorway, and Kilisha beckoned. “All of you, come here.”

      Kilisha glanced at the coat-rack—or rather, where she had last seen it. It was now completely hidden behind Adagan’s door.

      She could just march over there, but the silly thing might run away again; apparently it had all Ithanalin’s doubts and uncertainties. Until now Kilisha hadn’t entirely realized her master had any.

      With a little planning, though, it shouldn’t be hard to catch. Planning ahead had always been one of her weaknesses—she usually just dashed in to confront a problem, and only figured out later what she should have done—hardly the proper wizardly approach.

      This time, she promised herself, she wouldn’t do that. Too much was at stake. She would do this properly.

      She stooped down and whispered, “One of your father’s spells has gone wrong—I’m sure you already realized that. Well, I know how to fix it, but first we need to capture all the escaped furniture. Do you understand?”

      Telleth and Lirrin nodded, but Pirra turned up an empty hand.

      “It’s bad magic,” Telleth said to his baby sister. “Kilisha can fix it, but we need to help.”

      Pirra still looked worried and uncertain, but Kilisha decided it didn’t really matter whether the girl understood, so long as she did what was needed.

      “Over there, behind that door,” Kilisha said, “is the coat-rack from beside the front door. It can move around now, and we need to get it back home. It’s very shy, though, so we need to catch it.”

      “How?” Lirrin asked.

      “Well, I was thinking that if you three got behind it in a line, and held hands so it couldn’t get past you, you could chase it this way, and I could grab it and push it inside.”

      The three children looked at one another uncertainly.

      “It may threaten you with its hooks, but I don’t think it really wants to hurt anyone,” Kilisha said. “It’s just scared.”

      Telleth swallowed.

      “I think Pirra should be in the middle,” Kilisha said. “If she’s on the end it might be able to dodge past her, since she’s so small.”

      “That’s right,” Lirrin said. “Come on!”

      “Wait!” Kilisha called, before Lirrin could take more than a single step.

      “What is it?” Lirrin demanded. “We need to go, before it gets away!”

      “Yes, you do,” Kilisha said. “But make sure you go past it separately, without frightening it, and then form a line and chase it this way.”

      “Right,” Telleth said. “Come on, then.”

      This time Kilisha straightened up and let them go.

      They were brave children. They hadn’t argued with her, or cried, or said they were scared; they had just gone to help. Yara and Ithanalin ought to be proud of them.

      She wondered which piece of furniture held the wizard’s parental pride.

      She waited a moment, to give the children time to get into position, then began strolling toward Adagan’s door. “Oh, coat-rack!” she called. “Won’t you come back with me?”

      Adagan chose that moment to thrust his broom out the door, pushing a fair-sized heap of pet hairs and fireplace ash. He paused, startled, at the sound of Kilisha’s voice, then leaned out and said, “Coat-rack?”

      Kilisha had been focused on the coat-rack, so that this sudden intrusion threw her into complete confusion. “Uh?” she said.

      “You have a boyfriend named Coat-rack?” Adagan asked.

      Kilisha blinked at him. “I don’t have any boyfriend!” she said. “I’m trying to catch the coat-rack that’s behind your door.”

      The instant the words left her mouth she knew she had made a mistake. Sure enough, the coat-rack bolted. She caught a glimpse of it as it tried to dash away—but then it ran into the children, who had formed their line as instructed, and all four of them—three children and an over-sized ambulatory stick—fell to the street in a tangle.

      “Kilisha, help!” Telleth called, and Pirra burst out crying. Kilisha ran.

      Adagan, astonished, turned to watch as the wizard’s apprentice grabbed for the twisting, curling wooden bar. He clutched his own broom tightly, as if he expected that, too, to make a bid for freedom.

      Kilisha did not try to untangle the children; she concentrated instead on getting her hands on the coat-rack, and after two or three attempts she managed to get a solid two-handed grip on it.

      It struggled for a moment, but then Kilisha pulled it out of the tangle of arms and legs and heaved it up above her head, holding it at arm’s length.

      It thrashed wildly for a moment, then paused, as if considering its situation.

      “You can’t get away,” Kilisha told it. “If you try, we may have to hurt you.” It gave another twitch, and Kilisha said sharply, “Stop that, right now, unless you want to be chopped up for firewood!”

      The coat-rack straightened out into its natural shape, beam straight and hooks curled—but it was still quivering slightly.

      Trembling, Kilisha supposed.

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