Right now, there was a circle of five mages with contented looks on their faces, and as many pages waiting impatiently for some of the loaves to cool enough to snatch up and devour. Those would probably be the sweet loaves, stuffed with nut paste, chopped fruit, or other similar fillings. The pages tended to ignore the savory loaves, but she knew the ones filled with cheese on sight, and gravitated toward one.
When it was securely in her possession, she sat down on the floor out of the way and unashamedly began to devour it.
Sai took the last of his loaves out of the oven, put the stopper in the door, and turned toward the circle of urchins. “I suppose you want me to cool those loaves down for you?” he said, sounding cross.
The chorus of shameless begging rose to fill the room, and he made an abrupt gesture to silence it.
Then he made another, as if he was gathering something in from the loaves and tossing it up to the ceiling. “There,” he said. “They’re just cool enough to eat without burning yourselves. Shoo, little piggies!”
The little piggies each snatched up a loaf and raced for the door.
“The cheese bread is brilliant, as always, Master Sai,” Delia called around a mouth full of it. “You’re a genius!”
“I know,” said Sai, preening a little as he took his place on his cushion-chair, and Ceri rolled his eyes. “If I ever need to hide from the Emperor’s mage-hunters, look for me in a bakery.”
Dole, who was seated near her, tilted his head to one side at the bread, suggestively. Since she had eaten all she wanted from the loaf, she passed him the rest. “Why are you baking bread today, anyway?” she asked.
“It helps me think,” he said, astounding her by actually answering her question in a sensible fashion. “The more I need to think, the more bread I make. That’s not always the case, mind you. Sometimes I make bread because I very much need to hit someone, and pounding dough is a good substitute for punching a doughy little face, but mostly I bake because I need to think.”
She blinked a little at that statement. “What’s going on?” she asked, carefully. “Why do you need to think?”
“We wonder that all the time,” Ponu replied, snickering. “And when we need him to think? He becomes a baker. Bread or brains! But it is a tasty trade-off, so we have learned to live with it.”
Ceri said, “I mostly like his layered breads. What one layer knows, the second layer over on each side can’t learn,” and his brother Sai nodded sagely.
Sai sucked in his lower lip. “I don’t think I can tell you that, Delia,” the mage said, finally. “Ask your sister; she’ll tell you if she thinks it’s safe for you to know.”
Safe? What on earth is going on?
“Need to know,” Dole said sagely, telling her exactly nothing.
“I’m not a child,” she retorted, feeling irritated.
“You are also not in charge of this Duchy,” Dole reminded her sternly. “We owe you nothing. You are entitled to nothing from us!” he proclaimed, raising a finger for emphasis.
“Oh, don’t be so hard on her,” said Ponu. He might have said something more, but at that moment, the whole tower vibrated for a few moments. It wasn’t long, and it was barely detectable, but she knew she hadn’t imagined it when all of the mages suddenly looked wary. Dole looked at his finger suspiciously, then settled down.
“What was that?” Delia demanded.
Ponu frowned as the others gave him a look that suggested they wanted him to answer her. “Well,” he said finally. “We know what it isn’t. It’s not caused by something in the Duchy. It’s not natural, in the sense that nothing natural like a rockslide is causing it. It’s been going on for years, actually, but most of the time no one notices it. Lately, it’s been getting stronger, and we are fairly sure it comes from the Capital.”
“So . . . something the Emperor’s mages are doing?” she hazarded.
He nodded. “We haven’t investigated it closer, because we don’t want anyone knowing we’re here.” He shrugged. “That’s the cost of being in hiding. There is a lot we can’t do without revealing ourselves. Or others.”
“Is it dangerous?” she demanded.
“It could be. It isn’t yet. And we think it’s related to Elemental magic. Probably Earth Elementals. That’s the best answer we have right now.” Ponu settled back in his seat with the air of someone who was done talking.
“Thank you all for speaking with me,” she said, knowing she wasn’t going to get anything more out of them for now. “And thank you very much for the bread, Sai.”
“Glad you enjoyed it,” the mage said with clear satisfaction, as another couple of people came in, attracted by the aroma. She got up, made a little sketch of a bow, and decided to go see if she could get anything out of Isla. It was clear there was something going on, something extremely important, and . . . to be honest, she was a little resentful that she was being kept out of it!
But as soon as she left the Circle’s tower, she almost literally ran into Isla, who took her by the elbow and said, “Delia! I’m running out of some wild herbs. Let’s go hunt for them.”
Now, as far as Delia knew, that was a lie. Isla never ran out of anything; she was fanatical about keeping supplies on hand. But Delia took the basket that Isla gave her, and followed her sister out of the manor, between two meadows full of grazing mares and new foals, and down to the woodlot that was deliberately kept wild to allow the propagation of certain herbs that not even Isla could get to grow in the garden.
Once they were under the cover of the forest, Isla grabbed her by the arm and pulled her along a thread of a path with some urgency, until they reached an odd cluster of boulders that formed a tiny cave. Isla gave her a little push, and squeezed into the cave beside her, then made a couple of motions in the air that Delia thought might be magical gestures.
Her guess was confirmed when her sister said, “There. Warded. Now—you have been very busy this morning asking questions, and not all about horse training.” She folded her legs and sat herself down in the moss and leaf-litter in the cavelet, patting the ground next to her. Gingerly, Delia joined her on the ground.
“Well,” she replied, looking into Isla’s gray eyes, “Something’s going on. How did you know I was asking questions?”
“Because Ceri is a Mindspeaker like me, and he told me,” she replied. “And now I have to make up my mind whether to tell you what’s happening, or ask you to stop asking questions. Either one creates problems, and I’m trying to decide which course is safest.”
“Safest for whom?” Delia retorted, feeling more than a bit impatient with her sister.