November 14
Mitty knew that Malek was going to be grumpy about Saratin teaching her magic, she just hadn’t anticipated the silent treatment that had issued when they’d returned home. After the meeting adjourned, Malek had wrapped his arms around her waist, apparently his favorite way of popping and said simply, “Take us home.”
Of course when they got home, it was quite late, and they had prepared for bed. Malek had knocked about in their new bedroom in the dark, refusing to light a candle, even though Mitty could now probably create as many as she pleased.
“Good night, Malek,” she’d said when they were in bed. She nestled close to his heat and he opened his arms. But he didn’t say anything. She’d drifted off to sleep and woke to the smell of breakfast. When she opened the door to the bedroom, she saw Malek with his head buried in a cupboard. He emerged with two plates.
“Good morning,” Mitty said. Malek simply put the plates on the table and began to dish out servings of what he liked to call “scrambled eggs ala Malek.” He usually tossed in whatever he could find and it always tasted wonderful. Looking at the table, Mitty saw that Malek had already managed to find the rest of dishes, and even a loaf of bread.
“It looks good,” Mitty said as she sat down. Again, nothing. His silence was intimidating. She was wondering if she might prefer him to yell at her. Mitty ate silently, trying to decide what Malek would do next. When they were finished, Mitty collected the dishes and began to wash them. Malek went into the bedroom. Mitty crammed her neck to see what he was doing, but couldn’t manage to wash and look through the doorway at the same time. She definitely didn’t want Malek to know she was curious to know.
She’d thought she’d like a bedroom, where she didn’t have to dress in the kitchen or lay her sewing across her bed. Now it seemed to separate her from Malek, and his simple ways. Mitty had become used to his fluid movements as they danced in the small space, each seeming to know where the other one was headed. Malek just seemed clumsy in their new home.
Mitty should have broken the news to him more slowly. She’d gotten so carried away with the ease of magic, she’d gone a bit crazy with the changes, and let her imagination get carried away with her.
Malek emerged from the bedroom. He was wearing his city shoes. “Are you ready to go?” Mitty wiped her hands on her apron, then took it off and hung it on a hook.
“I suppose so.” Malek grabbed her around the waist. Mitty concentrated, picturing the inner gates to the city. After her last enthusiastic foray into the great hall, and the attention they had garnered from hundreds of diners, she decided to be a little less conspicuous. Her plan failed. She nearly knocked over an old man with only one leg.
“Hey, where’d you come from? No cuts. The lady up there says so,” he shouted as she straightened him out.
“Sorry. We’re not cutting, we’re…” Mitty said. Malek headed towards the front of the line. Mitty forgot the rest of her apology and rushed after him. Malek seemed deaf to the other people waiting in line as he proceeded to the table where Pogle was scribbling out the latest complaint. Trevelyn stood behind him. She looked quite surprised to Malek heading for her.
“Good morning,” she said. “I didn’t expect to see you this morning.”
“So where are these objects?”
“Oh, Brother Kensin can take you there. We’ve put them in a room. He seems to be very good at handling them.”
“Where is he?” Malek asked.
“Just follow the green signs,” Pogle pointed to a signpost marking the way.
Malek turned to Mitty, and said simply, “I will see you later.” Then he walked off into the direction of the signs. Trevelyn joined Mitty in watching him until he was out of sight.
“He’s very much to the point, isn’t he?” Trevelyn asked.
“Those are actually the first words he’s said to me all day. No, wait I take that back. He asked me if I was ready to go.” Mitty placed her hands on her hips and surveyed the line that filed off out of sight through the gates of the city.
“It looks like you’ve got your hands full.”
“Master Mitty,” Pogle said as he put down his quill. “I was wondering when our new robes will be ready? I’m second in command for Master Trevelyn, so I get to wear blue with a black belt.”
“Well, I’ll make that the first thing on my list,” Mitty said with a smile.
“Actually I think finding your own chief of staff would be a better first thing to do. There’s a group of brothers already started on sewing up the new garments. I don’t think we have any signs… but you can follow the purple signs, and when they part from the green signs, turn an immediate left, and it will be on you right.”
“Has anyone told you that you are doing a marvelous job?” Mitty asked, thoroughly impressed with the precision Trevelyn had been able to manage. Trevelyn simply blushed. Mitty smiled and headed off to follow the signs.
She wasn’t prepared for the sight that met her at her destination. There must have been 20 brothers, all wearing bright orange cassocks, happily sewing away on foot peddle machines. Behind them were at least another five cutting huge bolts of green fabric. It took a few minutes before one of the busy brothers noticed her. He smiled brightly and approached.
“Can I help you?” he asked. “Do you perhaps need a new dress? We’re taking orders.” He picked up a quill that sat on the counter.
“No. Actually. I’m here to help.”
“Oh,” he said, with a slightly puzzled expression, that quickly turned back into a smile. “The more, the merrier, I suppose. What’s your name? I’m Brother Axio. The others have rather elected me their leader, until Great Mage Mitty arrives. So far we’ve manage to make ourselves orange robes, and right now, as you can see, we’re working on blue. We’re almost done and ready to work on pink. That’s Great Mage Lynah’s color. I have a list of all of them over here.” Brother Axio shuffled through papers on the counter, absently humming to himself.
“Oh, here it is. We’ve gotten orders for quite a few cassocks. We’ve decided to make sure that every brother has at least one robe of their mage’s color before working on a second set. The fitting department is next door. Of course, it’s mostly just hem work in there.” Brother Axio began to walk her through the room. “We’ve got 20 push pedal machines, and five cutting tables. Most of the brothers here are from Sirine Monastery. We have, or should I say had a reputation for supplying most every brother with his cassock. And now we actually get to make different colors! We also kept and maintained the tapestries which we’ve brought back to the city.”
“You take great pride in your work,” Mitty remarked as she watched a brother carefully cutting the pink fabric. It was an odd sight to see a bunch of brothers with scissors on strings, tape measures around their neck, and pins stuck into the front of their cassocks.
“Of we don’t just sew. We are going to be in charge of seeing to the comfort of every brother. Most brothers don’t complain much. They are happy serving and doing things for others, and so it will be our job to find what they lack, without them telling us. We have some very good snoops.” He wound his way back to the counter and picked up his quill again.
“So where would you like to help…” He paused and thought for a moment. “Did I even get your name? I think I was talking too much. Ha! I must write a memo to myself. ‘Don’t talk too much’ is what it should say.”
“My name is Mitty.”
“Mitty. Right. That name sounds familiar… wait a minute!” He started at her, growing redder by the moment. “You aren’t…”
“I’m afraid I am.”
“Goosh Gosh!” Axio shouted before bowing low. He misjudged the distance and smacked his head on the counter. He straightened up, only to fall over the other way, landing on his butt. Mitty knelt by him, and tried to help him up. Before she could ask if he was all right, he was scrambling to his feet.
“I’m sorry. So, so, so, so.”
“It’s all right,” Mitty said. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”
“I just, I just didn’t expect for you to be so…”
“Plain?” She asked.
“No. Friendly,” he flashed her a tentative smile. She turned and saw the rest of the brothers had stopped working to watch their exchange.
“Well, perhaps you should introduce me,” Mitty prompted.
“Forgive me, Master Mitty,” he said, bowing again, this time, not so low. “Dear esteemed brothers, I have the honor and the pleasure to introduce to you, the Great Mage who you have devoted yourselves to serving, Master Mitty Adeo.” The brothers stood as one and bowed low.
“Thank you brothers. And I would like to introduce my new chief of staff, Brother Axio of Sirine, if he will accept the position.” Brother Axio’s jaw dropped and his face went from red to white.
“Are you sure, Master Mitty, I seemed to have made quite a fool of myself.”
“If the esteemed brothers voted you as their spokesperson and leader, then I trust their judgment. Do you still hold Axio as your representative?” She turned to the brothers who applauded enthusiastically.
“So who wants to make him a black robe?” Mitty asked. The brothers laughed and one of them produced a package wrapped in brown paper and a string. He handed it to Axio, who looked a bit stunned.
“We thought it might be you, so we were prepared,” he said, “but we left an extra wide hem, just in case.” The brothers laughed again. Axio clutched the package to his chest.
“Well, then. What are we standing around for? We have work to do!”
Mitty really had nothing to do, once the brothers went back to work. She thought to help out, but couldn’t stand the slightly horrified look on their faces. They had everything under control and so Mitty decided to find somewhere where she could be useful. She followed the signs back to Trevelyn, but somewhere took a wrong turn until she was completely lost.
Mitty had to laugh at herself when she realized she had the ability to transport herself about without the use of her feet, or actually knowing where she was. She closed her eyes.
“Master Mitty?” A voice said from behind her. She turned and saw a brother in black behind her. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t place him immediately. Then she noticed the blue belt and remember that he was Brother Ettu, Trevelyn’s head of staff. Colored robes were quite an ingenious way of identifying people.
“Can I help you in some way?” Brother Ettu inquired.
“Actually,” Mitty replied, “I was about to ask you if there was anything I could do to help you. Everyone seems so organized around here that I can’t find anywhere to help, and I didn’t want to horrify the brothers and sit and sew.” Brother Ettu laughed.
“When you’ve lived most of your life hearing about the Great Mages and the power they possess, it’s hard to adjust to the fact that they are living breathing people. Please, there is plenty to do around here. I’ve been taking care of what has become the infirmary, and for many of them I have been able to do little but make them comfortable.”
Mitty followed him into the infirmary where someone had written little signs on rows of beds. “The good thing is that the supply of beds is unending, literally. Everyone has a bed and we’ve tried to organize them into wards of sorts based of their maladies or the seriousness of their injuries.” Mitty walked with Brother Ettu, reading the signs as she went, “Mysterious rashes, color changes, strange bites, uncontrollable hiccups?”
“Further along we’ve subdivided some of the categories into smaller wards. We have at least twenty people who’ve turned purple.” Everywhere Mitty looked she saw brothers, most of them still in brown, trying to comfort people in pain. It wasn’t crowded, but that was only because the building, like her house, seemed to stretch on into infinite space.
“I’m afraid until Saratin comes up with a solution, we’re only going to get busier.” Brother Ettu commented as patted a young purple boy on the back. “Our traditional cures have little effect.”
“Show me your healing supplies, please, Brother Ettu.” If Mitty could redecorate her house, surely she could cure at least a few of the people in the infirmary. She just needed a place to start.
“This way,” Brother Ettu said, leading her to a small room near the front door. It was packed with bandages, jars of cream and whatnot. “It seems to replenish itself while we’re not looking, but nothing seems to cure most of what we see.” Mitty picked up a bottle of cream from the shelf. “That is rather good at taking away some of the pain of the rashes,” Brother Ettu commented.
Mitty inspected it closely before holding it in her hands and closing her eyes. In her head she visualized what she wanted the effects of the cream to be. She could almost feel the power flow out of her and into the jar.
“This will turn the purple people back to their normal color,” she said as she opened her eyes and handed the jar to Brother Ettu. A flash of disbelief flashed over his face, but he tried to hide it with a smile. He bowed and backed out of the room. She followed, and watched as he gave the little jar to the brother in charge of the twenty purple people.
Without hesistation, he stated calmly, as if he were quite certain it was the answer to the problem, “This will turn the purple people back to their normal color.” A loud murmer rose among those that had heard him, and the news spread throughout the ward. People came running up to watch from their different beds. A hush fell over the group. Children were hoisted on to shoulders to see the magic.
“Who is purple and has the smallest number?” A boy was thrust forward. He held his slip out to the brother who put it in his pocket. The brother carefully unscrewed the jar and scooped a dollop of cream onto his fingers. The boy held out his arm, and the brother applied the cream in a long stroke down his arm. The boy gasped and pulled his arm away. The rest of the crowd made gasps of their own. Then the little boy giggled.
“That tickled!” he shouted. The onlookers laughed off their nervousness.
“Now, rub it in yourself,” the brother said. The little boy scrubbed at his arm enthusiastically, then stared at it intently.
“I’m still purple!” he shouted even as Mitty could see the tint beginning to fade from his skin.
She decided she had better get started on making more cures before the crowd got too impatient. She was halfway back to the room when the celebrating began. People began dancing and singing. Purple people began clambering for the jar. Families began making plans for the return trip home. Mitty simply smiled, went into the room and grabbed another jar. She’d made three jars before Brother Ettu managed to fight his way through the crowd. He was quite red.
“I… I need to apologize. I… Master Mitty,” he stammered. She refused to let him.
“This one is for yellow people, this one is for green, and this one is for blue people,” she stated as she handed him the jars. “Now don’t get them mixed up. I can’t guarantee they’ll work on a different color than I intended them for. I’m also going to need a list of what jars I need to make, and most likely I’ll need to see someone who is suffering from that malady.” She turned back to the jars and Brother Ettu left to deliver their contents. Mitty was distracted for a moment by the cheers, but then quickly recovered herself.
Brother Ettu returned a short while later with a list and a quill with which to label the jars. Mitty began to transform the simple anesthetic cream into magical cures for everything from blindness to polka dots. She even created a cream that regrew legs, after a short failure, she realized she needed one cream for right legs, and one for left.
After about an hour and 30 bottles later, Mitty suddenly felt very tired. She tried to concentrate on a cure for regrowing fingernails, but after five minutes of deep concentration yielded nothing but a slight headache, she knew it was time to stop. She’d simply run out of magic. She sighed before standing and taking the last jars out to the waiting brother.
Brother Ettu was standing near the first bed, observing reorganization of the infirmary. For once, more people were exiting than entering, and people coming in were diagnosed and placed in line for a cure, or sent to the ward awaiting a cure.
“I’m afraid that’s all for today,” Mitty said trying to suppress a yawn. “I’m quite all magic out.”
“You must have cured 200 people today. We’re still working on a final count. That’s quite enough progress for me.”
“I think I shall find a bite to eat,” Mitty said.
“May I accompany you?” Brother Ettu asked.
“You’d better. I don’t exactly know how to get to the Great Hall from here,” she replied.
The pair headed out of the infirmary. When they were alone, Brother Ettu spoke. “Master Mitty, I wanted to thank you and I wanted to apologize for my lack of faith. I honestly didn’t think you could make a difference.”
Mitty laughed, though stifled it quickly. She didn’t want to offend the serious brother. “I didn’t know I could do it myself. I’m still not quite sure how I do it, so your apology is unnecessary. We’re all learning here… but now that I know I can do it, I think it’s time to teach Trevelyn. Two of us will be much faster at helping than one.”
Brother Ettu did not speak. He bowed low as they reached the great hall. Mitty was about to enter the great hall when a brother came running up to him. “Brother Ettu,” he said. “You’re needed in the Department of Magical Items.”
“That’s where Malek is. Perhaps he wants some dinner. May I accompany you?”
“Of course, Master Mitty, it would be a pleasure.
Lasser was surprised at how easy he got out of the tasks at hand, and finagled the only one that didn't seem to have some sort of magic attached. He simply had to go to the king, help him pick an heir, and then Lasser would be free to meander his way through the forests, discovering what he may... and with Snult on his shoulder he didn't have to worry about dragons, or lacking for companionship. Snult and he seemed to share most of the same ideals, as far as danger was concerned. Neither minded it, but they didn't go searching it out.
Lasser
wandered out of the forest that he used to know so well. Snult had flown them as far as his old
stomping grounds, stopping in the cave where he had slept for many years. It was comfortable enough once he allowed
Snult to warm the stone up a bit. Of course
the dragon, whose favorite sleeping place was in fireplace, liked it a bit
hotter than Lasser could stand. Lasser
had walked the distance to
When he finally hit the dirt road that marked the beginning of civilization, he gave up on trying to catch a glimpse. The trees began to thin and the beginning of civilization was marked by a noticeable difference in the quality of the road