Free A Matter of Magic by Patricia Wrede

folding stage worked.
    The curtain was heavier than its faded, threadbare appearance had led her to expect. She examined it more closely and found a series of lead weights sewn into the hem. Her surprise lasted only a moment. Mairelon wouldn’t want a stray breeze to reveal the luxurious interior of his wagon while he was performing. Kim frowned, wondering why he hadn’t put a folding panel behind the curtain for added security. She’d have to remember to ask him later; she was certain he had some good reason. She lifted one end of the curtain and peered behind it.
    There was a foot-wide space between the curtain and the back wall. Kim slipped into it and let the curtain fall shut behind her. A little light filtered in around the edges, providing a gloomy reddish illumination. As she waited for her eyes to adjust, Kim ran her fingertips lightly across the rear wall. There was no break in the surface; this must be the floor of the stage, then. She crouched to study the base of the wall. Yes, there were hinges, carefully sunk into notches in the wood. They hardly showed at all, and when the stage was lowered, they would lie flush with the floor, providing no inconvenient lumps for a performer to trip over.
    She completed her inspection and straightened, just as the sound of hoofbeats came clearly from just outside. Old habits took over; Kim froze, half crouched behind the curtain. She heard a shout and the muffled sounds of conversation, but she paid little attention. She was too busy reminding herself that she was doing nothing the nabbing cullscould nick her for. She hadn’t nicked anything for nearly two years, not since she’d been on her own. She had just managed to convince herself that it would be perfectly safe to go outside and see what was happening when steps sounded on the stairs and she heard the wagon’s door open.
    “—and you can take a look at it,” Mairelon’s voice said.
    “Well, that’s good news,” an unfamiliar voice replied. “What’s this Hunch says about you picking up another stray?”
    Curiosity kept Kim motionless. “I would hardly call Kim a stray,” Mairelon said. “And Heaven only knows what would have happened to her if I’d left her in the streets of London.”
    “Um. Still trying to make up for Jamie? No, no, I shouldn’t have mentioned it. But you’re certain she has nothing to do with the robbery?”
    “Quite sure. Now, Edward, do you want to look at the bowl or not?”
    “Yes, of course; let’s have it.”
    Sundry clicks and thumps followed, the sounds of Mairelon unlocking the chest and throwing back the lid. Then light flashed brightly around the edges of the curtain, and the strange voice exclaimed, “My word!”
    “Impressive, isn’t it?” Mairelon replied. “Will you take it with you?”
    “Not unless you want me to. The consensus is that it may help you find the rest of the pieces, but it may also make things more dangerous for you.”
    “How?” Mairelon asked sharply.
    “Magic cuts in both directions. If you can use the bowl to find the platter and the spheres, they can be used to find the bowl. And you.”
    “Of course. But I thought you had more in mind than that.”
    “Marchmont thinks someone at the Ministry has been talking too freely,” Mairelon’s companion said reluctantly. “It may be deliberate.”
    “I see. And there’s still the little matter of finding out which one of our colleagues at the Royal College planned the theft in the first place, isn’t there?”
    “You’ve no proof that anyone—”
    “Don’t be a fool, Shoreham! Someone arranged things very cleverly to make it look as if I were the one behind that theft. Someone
very
wellinformed. It was sheerest luck that I ran into you that night, or you’d be as sure I’m guilty as the rest of them.”
    “All right, all right. But I still wish you’d let me clear your name.”
    “And give whoever it is a reason to try again? No, thank you. Besides, as long as no one knows