Casket of Souls

replied. “We’d never get anywork done if we accepted all invitations. But yes, we are in demand lately.”
    “Even if we do have to perform for our supper now and then,” the old actor named Zell said with a laugh.
    “Aren’t you worried about the plague in the city?” asked Palmani.
    “If we were still in Basket Street, I would be,” Atre replied. “Fortunately, through the generosity of our patrons, we feel quite safe where we are.”
    “Who have you entertained lately?” Seregil asked.
    “Let’s see,” said Atre. “Duke Almand, Marquis Dorander, and Marquis Kyrin, to name a few.”
    “Don’t forget us!” chided Reltheus.
    “Of course not, my dear Duke. Who else? The late Duke Laneus, Lady Ethia … And at a few of the houses in the Street of Lights, too. Your friend Eirual’s among them. Lovely woman, quite the hostess. I saw her at your party, didn’t I, Lord Alec? And with another beautiful young lady, too. Now, what is her name? I’ve quite forgotten it.”
    All the merriment fled from Alec’s face. “It was Myrhichia. You visited her at Eirual’s house, as I recall.”
    “Did I? It’s all such a whirl!” He paused. “But you said ‘was.’ Did she—?”
    “She died,” Alec said tersely, and Thero was surprised at the anger that lay just below the surface of Alec’s restrained good manners.
    “She was a good friend,” Seregil said smoothing the moment over. “She passed away recently.”
    “I am sorry. We must drink to her memory.”
    A toast was raised and Seregil tactfully steered the conversation in another direction. As skilled as Alec had become at playing a role, the sadness stayed in his eyes for some time.
    “I’m fascinated by Skalan magic, Lord Thero!” Atre enthused over the apple tart. “Is it true that your powers come from having some other blood mixed with yours somehow?”
    “Yes,” Thero replied, rather surprised at the question. Anyone should know that. “Aurënfaie.”
    “Atre hasn’t been in Skala very long,” Alec explained.“He’s from the northlands, like me. No one knows much about Orëska magic there.”
    “What sort of magic do you practice, my lord?” asked young Teibo, the brother of the young woman next to him.
    “Perhaps Thero would favor us with a demonstration?” said Seregil, giving him a wink.
    “Magic! Magic!” the three young children cried, clapping their hands.
    Thero smiled as they watched him with big eyes. While he didn’t appreciate being made to perform for pampered noblewomen, he’d come to like amusing children during the long days in Aurënen.
    “Let’s see.” Cupping his hands over a leftover slice of bread, he concentrated on the form of a tiny dog and released it to run around the table and sniff at the delighted children’s fingers. Then he levitated the dessert plates, sending them into a complex swirling dance above their heads.
    “Those are my best dishes!” the tavern keeper called out nervously, but the rest of the crowd erupted into applause. He brought the plates down again, carefully setting each back in its original place.
    “How wonderful!” Merina exclaimed, kissing him on the cheek. Brader didn’t seem particularly surprised.
    “Do another!” the little girl cried excitedly.
    “Now, Ela, don’t pester our guest,” Brader chided.
    “One more,” said Thero, aware that many around the room were watching to see what he’d do next. If he wasn’t careful, he’d develop a reputation for frivolity. “May I have a strand of your pretty red hair, miss?” he asked, meaning to turn it into a ring for her.
    Brader clasped his daughter’s hand as she went to pull out a strand. “That’s enough now. We don’t want to tax the good wizard’s patience.”
    For a moment the big man looked almost frightened.
    “My friend is still superstitious after all our time in the south,” Atre apologized for him. Smiling, he plucked a strand of his own auburn hair and handed it to Thero across the table. “Here, you can use this.”
    Thero took it and for an instant he felt another fleetingwisp of that strange sensation. The strand of hair felt cold between his fingers. But with everyone looking on expectantly there was no way to examine it more closely. Instead, he wrapped it around the tip of his little finger, then hid it behind his other hand and murmured the spell. The hair transformed into a tiny ring of braided gold, which he took from his fingertip and presented to Ela with a