Book of Enchantments Read online

  "What was what?" I asked crossly.

  "The forty-eighth curse," Tumpkin said. He frowned worriedly at me. "Don't you remember?"

  "Of course I remember!" I snapped. "No, Mother and Father haven't broken it, because they still don't know what it is."

  "They don't know?"

  "That's what I said. Didn't you listen? I think they should give up. If nothing's happened yet, the curse probably didn't take and we don't have anything to worry about."

  "Something's happened," Tumpkin muttered.

  "What did you say?" I said. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

  "I said, something has happened," Tumpkin replied quickly. "Your eyebrows are getting thicker."

  I snorted. "Well, if that's all curse forty-eight amounts to, I think Mother and Father should quit wasting time trying to break it. Who cares what my eyebrows look like?"

  He didn't have an answer for that, so he told me about the latest book he was reading instead. I was feeling restless and impatient, but I knew Mother would be annoyed if I came home too early, so I made myself listen politely. At least I didn't have to say anything myself as long as Tumpkin was talking.

  Tumpkin kept giving me speculative looks whenever he thought I wasn't looking. Finally I couldn't stand it any longer, and I left. I dawdled all the way home, and then when I arrived Mother and Father were talking and hardly even noticed me.

  "... beyond the bounds of reason this time," Mother was saying as I came in. "Even you have to admit that."

  "I'm sure the caliph has a reason," Father said in the stiff tone he uses when he knows he's wrong but can't say so.

  "For a curse like this? We aren't talking about a petty inconvenience, Selim. This is a danger to everyone in the city. And there's no cure for lycanthropy."

  "Caliph Arenschadd wouldn't endanger his people," Father said, even more stiffly than before.

  "Maybe not if he thought about it first," Mother retorted. "But I don't think he's thought about this at all. Lycanthropy—"

  "Imani!" Father said, spotting me at last. He shot Mother a look that was half warning, half relief. "When did you come in?"

  "Just now," I said. I looked up at him. His eyebrows were getting thicker; they nearly met in the middle. Mother's were thicker, too. "What's lycanthropy?"

  Mother and Father looked at each other. "You might as well explain, Selim," Mother said. "If we don't tell her, she'll just look it up in the dictionary."

  Father sighed. "Lycanthropy means the assumption by human beings of the form and nature of wolves," he said, and looked down. "That's what the forty-eighth curse is, Imani. We've become werewolves."

  "Well, I don't see what's so terrible about that," I said. I thought of my dream of running in the moonlight. "I think I'm going to like being a wolf."

  They stared at me as if they'd never seen me before. Then Mother got a grim look on her face. "You'll find out soon enough," she said.

  Mother was right. Two nights later I woke up well after midnight, feeling strange and tingly all over. I slipped out of bed and went out onto the balcony that overlooks our private garden. It was deep in shadow, because the moon was still on the other side of the house, rising. I could see the edge of the shadow creeping nearer as the moon rose, and I shivered in anticipation. I sat on the edge of the balcony, watching the line of moonlight come nearer, and waited.

  The moon came over the domed roof of the house. I leaned into the silvery light and felt myself change. It was strange and exciting and scary all at once, though it didn't hurt at all. A moment later I stood on four paws and shook myself all over. Then I sat back and howled at the moon.

  I heard answering howls from the corner of the house, and then two adult wolves came padding into sight below my window. Mother had turned into a slender, coal black female; Father was dark gray and more solidly built. He had white hairs in his muzzle. I leaped down from the balcony to join them, and Mother cuffed me with her paw. I snarled, and she cuffed me again. Then Father made a sharp barking noise and we turned. Together we jumped over the garden wall and into the city streets.

  The first thing I noticed was the smells. The whole city reeked of garbage and people and cooking spices and cats and perfumes. It was awful. I cringed and whined very softly. Mother bared her teeth in sympathy, and even Father coughed once or twice. Then we faded into the shadows and headed for the edge of town.

  If it hadn't been for the smells, sneaking through the city like that would have been a lot of fun. As it was, I was glad we lived outside the city wall. Nobody saw us but a couple of dogs, and they ran when Father snarled at them. And then we passed the last of the houses and came out into the fields.

  It was even better than my dream, to begin with. We ran and ran, and I could feel the wind in my fur and smell the fresh grass and the flowers and the little animals that had hidden as we approached. Now and then we'd stop and howl for the sheer joy of it. And all the while, the moonlight poured down around us in silver sheets.

  Then we ran over the rabbit. Literally ran over it; the stupid thing was too scared to move when it heard us coming, and Father tripped over it. Then it ran, or rather, tried to. Mother caught it before it got very far. She trotted back with it while Father was picking himself up, and we split it between us.

  The moon was getting low in the sky, and we began to feel a need to return home. I tried to fight it; I didn't want to go anywhere near that awful-smelling place again. But all I could do was whine and shuffle and edge closer. Mother cuffed me a couple of times because I wasn't going fast enough to suit her, and finally she nipped my tail. I yelped and gave up, and we ran back toward town.

  As we passed the first house, we heard a baby crying inside. Mother and Father stopped and exchanged glances, just the way they'd done when they were people. Father looked up at the sky. The moon was close to setting; we had to get home. He growled and leaped forward, and Mother and I followed. A few minutes later, we reached our house and jumped over the garden wall.

  Jumping back up to my balcony was harder than jumping down; I had to try twice, and I almost didn't make it in time. The moon set just as I scrabbled over the balcony rail, and I sprawled on the floor as a girl instead of a wolf. I sat up, remembering the wild run I'd just had.

  Then I was sick to my stomach. Raw rabbit may be great when you're a wolf, but it's pretty disgusting to think about when you're a person.

  I didn't get much sleep the rest of that night. I had too much to think about. I felt as if I'd been suckered: all those dreams about running in the moonlight, and not one about raw rabbit. I wondered how many other nasty surprises were in store for me. I thought of the way Mother and Father had looked at each other when they heard the baby cry. A cold shiver ran down my back, and I decided I didn't want to find out any more about being a werewolf. Then I remembered Mother's voice saying, "There's no cure for lycanthropy," and I shivered again.

  Mother and Father were late to breakfast the next morning, and when they came in they were arguing. "It's the only thing we can do," Mother insisted. "And after last night, we have to do something. If Imani hadn't slowed us down coming home, that baby might have been—"

  "There has to be another alternative," Father interrupted. He sounded desperate.

  "Suggest one," Mother said. "Bearing in mind that the moon still isn't completely full, so we'll have at least another three or four nights like the last one unless we solve this problem right away."

  I looked up. "Mother! You've found a way to break the curse?"

  "Not quite," Mother said. "But we've come up with something we hope will work just as well."

  I looked from Mother to Father. "What are you going to do?"

  Father sighed. "I'm going to apologize to Caliph Arenschadd," he said reluctantly.

  Mother insisted that both of us go along with Father to apologize to the caliph. I'm not sure whether she was worried about Father's ability to be tactful or whether she thought Caliph Arenschadd would be more likely to relent
if he were faced with all three of us at once, but she was very firm. So I had to spend all morning having my hair washed and perfumed and my hands painted, and putting on my best clothes. Then I had to wait while Mother and Father finished doing the same things. I had to sit practically without moving so I wouldn't muss my hair or tear my skirts or rub any of the paint off my hands. I hate court appearances.

  When we got to court, we were ushered into the caliph's presence for a private audience. Father bowed and started in on the obligatory courtesies. I didn't bother listening; all that O-Radiant-Light-of-the-Universe stuff bores me. I looked around the audience chamber instead, and that was why I saw Tumpkin sneaking in at the back. I stiffened. Nobody is supposed to be at a private audience except the caliph, whoever he's seeing, and the deaf guards the caliph hires especially for private audiences. Tumpkin would be in real trouble if anyone else noticed him.

  Father finished his apology. "Very nicely put," the caliph said, smiling. "Accepted. Was there anything else?"

  "O Commander of Legions, the curse yet remains," Father said delicately. "That is, the forty-eighth curse of your renowned list of curses, which you in your great and no-doubt-justified anger cast over me and my wife and daughter."

  "Of course it remains," the caliph said. He sounded a little testy. "When I curse someone, they stay cursed until they break it."

  "O Fountain of Wisdom, you have said it better than your humble servant ever could," Father replied. "That is our difficulty precisely. For nowhere in all the scrolls and tomes and works of magic is written the cure for your forty-eighth curse, and so we have come to you to beg your mercy."

  "You want me to lift the curse, is that it?" the caliph said, frowning. "I don't like the idea; it would set a bad precedent."

  Father wiped his forehead with the end of his sleeve. "O Auspicious and Merciful Caliph, what is wrong with establishing that a man's punishment ends when he humbly acknowledges his error? Display your justice before the whole court, and remove this dreadful curse from me and mine."

  "Well. . ."

  "O Just and Sagacious Monarch, let me add my entreaties to my husband's," Mother said. She stepped forward and knelt gracefully in front of Caliph Arenschadd. "Have pity! Or if your heart is hardened against us, think of your subjects who huddle within their doors each night in fear while wolves prowl the streets. Think of them, and lift the curse."

  "Get up, Mirza, get up," the caliph said. "You know that sort of thing makes me uncomfortable."

  "O Caliph of Compassion, I cannot," Mother said, bowing her head so he couldn't see the annoyance on her face. "My limbs will not support both my body and the curse that weighs on me. Lift the curse, and I will stand."

  "I can't," said the caliph.

  "What?" said Mother and Father together.

  "I didn't work out how to lift all the curses I made up," Caliph Arenschadd said self-consciously. "I didn't think I needed to."

  "You mean you were too lazy to bother," Mother muttered. Father gave her a horrified look, but fortunately Caliph Arenschadd hadn't heard.

  "O Powerful Sovereign, what then are we to do?" Father said.

  "You'll just have to find a way to break it yourselves," Caliph Arenschadd said. He was trying to sound airy and unconcerned, but I could see that he was really embarrassed and worried. He wasn't much better than Father at pretending he was right when he knew he wasn't.

  "But Commander of Legions, there is no cure for lycanthropy!" Father said.

  "Not usually," Tumpkin said from behind the caliph. "But I think I know one that will work this time."

  I shut my eyes, wondering what Caliph Arenschadd would do to Tumpkin for sneaking into a private audience and whether Tumpkin would be able to tell us how to break the curse before Caliph Arenschadd did it. Nothing happened, so after a moment I opened my eyes again. Mother, Father, and the caliph were all staring at Tumpkin, who looked pleased and proud and a little embarrassed by all the attention he was getting. Nobody seemed to be angry.

  "My son, how can this be?" said Caliph Arenschadd. "You are still a beginner in wizardry. How can you do what my grand vizier"—he waved at Father—"his skilled and intelligent wife"—he gestured at Mother—"and myself cannot achieve?"

  "It's not wizardry, Father," Tumpkin said. "It's just logic."

  "'Father'?" I said indignantly. "You mean you're the prince? Why didn't you tell me?"

  "Imani!" Mother said sharply. "Mind your manners! Pray forgive the impulsiveness of her youth, Your Highness."

  "It's all right," Tumpkin said. "We've known each other for a long time."

  "You seem to have many secrets I was not aware of, my son," said Caliph Arenschadd, but he couldn't keep from sounding proud instead of reproachful. "Therefore, tell us how you think to break this curse."

  "It's just a theory," Tumpkin said. "But you told me once that your curses only work one at a time. If you cast another curse on the grand vizier, wouldn't that take the place of this one?"

  Mother and Father and Caliph Arenschadd all stared at Tumpkin some more. I stared, too, thinking furiously. If Caliph Arenschadd put the next curse on Father, we'd be in the same situation we'd been in when Father got the forty-eighth curse, not knowing what the curse was or how to break it. Curse forty-nine could be just as bad as all this werewolf business. But if somebody else made the caliph mad . . .

  "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," I said loudly.

  Everyone turned to look at me. Mother and Father looked horrified; the caliph looked startled and unbelieving. Tumpkin grinned, and I knew he'd figured out what I was up to.

  "Imani!" Mother said automatically.

  "What was that you said, girl?" Caliph Arenschadd asked ominously.

  I swallowed hard and said, "'I said that that list of curses was a stupid idea. And it was even stupider not to figure out how to break them all. Stupid and lazy. And sticking in a werewolf curse was the stupidest thing of all. Everybody knows you can't break a werewolf curse, but I bet you didn't even think about it."

  I paused for breath. The caliph was positively purple with rage; the minute I stopped talking, he pointed three fingers at me and said something that sounded like "Donny-skazle frampwit!"

  I looked at Mother and Father. They were bright green.

  I heaved a sigh of relief; I hadn't been quite sure that Caliph Arenschadd would start over with the first curse on the list for me. I studied Mother and Father again, more closely. Their eyebrows were back to normal.

  "It worked!" I said. I grinned at Tumpkin, then looked at Caliph Arenschadd. "Sorry about that, Your Majesty; I was just trying to make you mad."

  "Imani..." Mother sounded as if she didn't know whether to laugh or scold me.

  I shrugged. "Well, somebody had to do it. And I wasn't sure it would work right if the caliph wasn't really mad at somebody. 'Scuse me, Your Majesty."

  "I believe I understand," the caliph said slowly. He looked from me to Tumpkin and back. "Just don't do it again, young woman. Audience concluded."

  I went straight outside and walked backward around the palace three times, and that took care of being green. Then Mother and Father took me home and fussed over me. Father said I was quick-witted enough to make a fine diplomat, if I'd just learn a little tact, and he'd start my training tomorrow. Mother said that Father was a fine one to talk about tact, and she wasn't going to let him waste my abilities in politics. She was going to start teaching me sorcery that evening.

  I left them arguing and went to see Tumpkin. He was waiting in the garden, just as I expected.

  "You took awhile getting here," he said.

  "My parents wanted to argue," I explained. "Why didn't you tell me you were the prince?"

  "I didn't think you'd believe me," Tumpkin said. "I don't look much like a prince, you know."

  I snorted. "What's that got to do with anything?"

  "It seems to matter a lot to some people," Tumpkin said, and neither of us said anything for a little.

>   "How did you figure out what to do about the curse?" I asked finally.

  "I don't know," Tumpkin said. "I just thought about it a lot, after I found out it was a werewolf curse. I knew it was going to take something unusual to get rid of it, or your mother and father would have figured it out weeks ago."

  "They'd never have thought of getting rid of one curse by replacing it with another," I said.

  Tumpkin looked at me sidelong. "Was it very bad?" he asked.

  "Some of it," I said shortly, thinking of the rabbit and the way the city streets smell to a wolf. Then I thought about running through the grass. "Some of it was wonderful."

  Tumpkin didn't ask any more questions, and he never has. I think he understands, but he won't make me tell him about the details until I want to. That's why we're such good friends. I still call him Tumpkin, even though now I know he's really the prince.

  A couple of weeks ago Caliph Arenschadd issued a new proclamation about punishing people who offend him. He's decided to turn them blue. The more times someone offends him, the bluer they get and the longer it lasts. lather talked him into it by pointing out that it's rather difficult to do most of the jobs in the palace with your eyelids stuck shut or three-foot fingernails, but no one will have to stop working just because he's blue. So no one else will ever work up to curse forty-eight, and we won't ever have to worry about werewolves in town.

  Which is a good thing, I suppose. But sometimes I still dream about moonlight and the wind in my fur as I run, and run, and run forever through endless, sweet-smelling grass.

  * * *

  Earthwitch

  The cave was dark, damp, and smelled faintly of sulfur. After nearly seven years, Mariel knew every small unevenness in the floor, and she walked surely despite the darkness. Empty-handed, as was fitting, she crossed to the inner cavern, where only she was allowed to go. She paused at the threshold, checked by the weight of power and magic within. Then, slowly, she entered.

  The water of the vision pool hissed and bubbled, heated by the lava flows deep within the mountain. Mariel stopped just short of the edge and knelt on the warm stone. Closing her eyes, she stilled her thoughts and emptied her mind. When she was ready at last, she opened her eyes and bent forward, peering into the steamy darkness to see what the earth magic would choose to show her.