Chapter Twenty-One: Wizard Tales

Chapter Twenty-One: Wizard Tales

"I've never seen one at all like it, but I haven't done as many clan adoptions as you have," Siofre said. "I thought you might have."

Bridie put on her glasses and examined the stone, then she took them off and held it close, examining it minutely. "It is unusual. It is rare to have a stone of more than one colour, and I've only seen two with any metal, and those were of silver and tin." She looked up sharply at Siofre. "Did you test it? Is it metal as it appears? Is it indeed gold?"

"Aye, gold. Chiefly gold."

"Quite pure, then. And the red and green stone through it . . . these are not so uncommon, but usually you only see one or the other, as you have noticed. Sometimes two. I have never seen three materials, though . . . and then the symbol."

"I know. That puzzled me almost more than the rest."

"I have only seen three like it, and all three were witches, and none had these, these extra markings," Bridie said, indicating the few lines radiating from the cup.

"It is more complex than usual, as well, I thought. The wizards I have brought into the clan, or whose artifacts I have seen, have had crossed lines, arrows, parallel lines, cross-hatches, triangles, zigzags."

Bridie nodded. "I have seen many, and they are all also of that general type." Bridie shrugged and handed back the stone. "I am more interested now to meet this wizard. He will be at young Murdoch's party?"

"Aye. I will introduce you then."

"Good."

"You have nothing else to say of it?" Siofre asked.

"What would you say?" Bridie asked in return.

Siofre looked at the stone that lay in her palm. "It must have something to do with me, as well..."

"It always does, an' you know that, too," Bridie said.

"But . . . more than usual, I think. Perhaps because I invited him into the clan as well as performing the ritual. There was no third person there, no sponsor. It was only my own blood and magic that I used . . ."

"Aye, and that is the key. Your blood, your magic, his blood, his magic. An' this says something about your relationship to the man, and his to you...the relationship that goes beyond the binding ritual, beyond the kinship ties you created. The relationship that already existed between you, and perhaps which will exist in the future."

"Is the marking mine, then? The chalice? It is a witch's symbol," Siofre said. "But I've never heard of the binder's magic influencing it in this way. The symbol should be that of the one brought into the clan."

"There are also the rays, remember." Bridie shook her head. "I am no Diviner, Siofre hen. I canna tell you what these markings may mean, not beyond what I've already said. It could be his own symbol, simply influenced by you...your presence, your magic, his feelings toward you. Or it could be that the chalice is yours and the rays are his, though that is more doubtful. I have no answer for you. But if he is a gardener, as you say, a nurturer, I see no reason to discount the chalice as his. If he has a . . . a receptive soul, an open heart, that with his nearness to you and the warmth of his feelings could have created this symbol as his own."

"Will it remain a mystery, then?"

Bridie laughed. "You do like answers, I know that. You always have, since you were a bairn. Sometimes . . . sometimes the only answers are the ones we create. You will read that aright when the time comes an' it'll tell its tale, if that's even an interest for you then."

Siofre nodded, willing to wait. "Thank you, Bridie."

"How is your arm today?" Bridie asked, reaching out one hand.

Siofre twitched her right shoulder. "A wee bit sore, but the magister...that is, Johannes...cast the healing spell on it, an' it'll be fine in a day or so." She let Bridie push up her left sleeve and examine her arm. There was still a slight pink line reaching from near the wrist all the way up Siofre's forearm. "His seemed to heal a wee faster, but I likely have more practice with the charm."

"Aye, 'tis healing well, though. Good you did a clean cut," Bridie said with a nod of approval.

"I never have hesitated, not e'en the first time, you know that," Siofre said. "'Tis worse an it's not begun well and with determination."

"That is why Cousin Cait does not ever join any into the clan...after the first two, I decided it best she dinna. Especially for the two poor wizards who were in more pain for her hesitation than if she'd been quick and steady about it. She has a kindly heart, though."

"Johannes was steady, as well. I don't believe he e'en felt it much."

"Good, then." Bridie chuckled. "You know David Pugh...poor lad fainted the first time I tried to begin the ritual. His wife and I had to revive him, heal the wound, then start again. Saw his own blood, and down he went."

Siofre laughed. "Men are worse that way, I think, and often the most unlikely ones."

"Aye, you're right there, hen!"

Siofre drew her watch from around her neck. "I am off now. I need to go and see Lachina before I return home, but Malcolm sent an owl earlier today asking to see me, and he'll be coming for dinner. I don't know when he will arrive, but as it's Friday, it may be early. I told him to come as soon as he wished."

"He is doing well?"

"Aye, so it seems. He is still in Hogsmeade."

"And still in love."

"Aye, still in love. I don't believe that will change. This witch has caught him well."

"He is the one who introduced you to Johannes, isn't he?"

"Nay, that was Minerva, when they taught together, but they are friends, Malcolm and Johannes. Malcolm suggested that Johannes work on the estate gardens."

"I see . . . He knows you invited Johannes into the clan and performed the ritual yesterday?"

"Unless Johannes has told him, or Lydia, he does not. I have only spoken with you about it."

"So he is not coming about that."

"Nay. I am going to encourage him to take Johannes back to Hogsmeade with him this weekend, though, as long as he will be there this evening. Encourage the lad to have some fun, get away from the estate a wee, remember the world beyond it."

"Good plan, Siofre. He is young still, after all."

"Though not too young," Siofre said, though she sounded uncharacteristically hesitant.

"Nay, not too young," Bridie said with a smile. "Not with all he's done, all he's suffered. And he sounds like an old soul with a deep well of love."

"He is an excellent Herbology master. Next Saturday, I will have him give you a tour of the gardens he has planted."

Bridie chuckled. "That would be fine, hen. This excellent Herbology master may give me a tour. Tell young Malcolm that it has been too long since he has visited the island. He must come soon and visit his island cousins."

Siofre nodded. "I will."

Johannes had found Siofre in her study when he returned to the house and Sorrel told him that the mistress wished to see him.

"This is for you to keep," Siofre said, standing and reaching into her pocket. "I brought it to my cousin Lachina, who is a Lapidomancer and jeweller, and she set it in a circle of gold for you, and I put a gold chain with it. You may carry it or not, as you wish, or wear it around your neck. Collum used his as a fob for his watch. But others put them in a drawer or on a shelf." She handed him the ritual artifact, its chain flowing like water into his hand.

"Thank you, Siofre," Johannes said, unconsciously rubbing his thumb over the stone's smooth surface. "I think I shall wear it, at least for a while. It will remind me of my new clan." He smiled suddenly. "My clan. Yes, I will need to become accustomed to this." He laughed.

Siofre chuckled, herself. "Aye, that you will."

"Lydia said that Malcolm owled earlier this afternoon and that he's coming for dinner tonight."

"Aye, just after lunch. You had already gone out. The lad wished to see me about something, so..." she shrugged "...I invited him to come for dinner and stay the night. Then you two can return to Hogsmeade together in the morning."

"I have work..."

"I do not force you to leave, Honnie, but you should get out, leave the estate for the weekend. As Lydia always reminds me, there is more in life than work and responsibility. And speaking of responsibility, you must have business of your own that needs minding. But if you do stay here, you must not work."

Siofre thought that Johannes looked almost as astonished as a house-elf told to take a holiday from service, but then he nodded. "You are right, of course, but simply because I am . . . because I am busy in the gardens does not mean that I am working."

Siofre's eyebrows rose.

Johannes laughed and shook his head. "I may be working, but it is also . . . I enjoy it. It is not simply a job, you know."

"Good to hear, lad! I was wondering what our contract was for!" Siofre laughed.

"I work now for more than the contract," Johannes said softly. He looked down, then shook his head, considering his words. "I work for the land and for you, but you could burn the contract, and it would not alter my dedication to the work . . ." He raised his eyes to look into hers. "Nor my devotion to the mistress of the estate, to you," he whispered.

"Magister . . ." Her breath hitched.

Johannes turned the artifact in his hand and held it so that its chain fell free. "I will wear this now, and I will remember the Clan Tyree and the witch whose blood ran warm over my arm, whose magic entered my own, and to whom I made one pledge in words and a second in my heart, one pledge to clan and kin, and another . . . to you." He raised the stone to his lips and kissed it, then he quickly dropped the chain around his neck.

"Honnie . . ." Siofre reached out and touched the stone. "Honnie. Make no pledge to me."

Johannes took her hand and held it wrapped around the artifact. "It is done, and it could not be otherwise." Eyes closed, he bent his head and kissed her fingers before gently releasing her hand.

"You carry the stone as you wish, in whatever manner you desire," Siofre said briskly, stepping back. "Before the grandson arrives, I need to finish this petition to the Wizengamot on behalf of Butterworth and his horses."

"You will represent Mr Butterworth, then?"

Siofre nodded. "Aye. And the case will be heard in less than two weeks, on May fifth, so there is not much time to prepare. I will be busy this weekend with that."

"Bertrand and Sally will return next week, and then there is the bonfire, the guests, and then the party on Saturday. Will you have the time?"

"Aye, an I do not waste it," Siofre said, sitting down at her desk. "Therefore, I must work this weekend. But the same is not true of you, Johannes. Take time away. 'Twill be good for you."

Johannes looked doubtful, but he bowed slightly and left the room to allow Siofre to return to her work before Malcolm arrived.

Siofre let out a long, shaky breath when the door clicked shut behind her. She closed her eyes and calmed herself, trying to clear her mind to work. Johannes's warm hand around hers, his gentle lips, his quiet but unabashed declaration of devotion to her . . . she had almost forgotten herself and her own pledge to allow Johannes his freedom, and not simply for his sake, but because she only wanted him on that basis: to freely choose her and to freely bind himself to her. For no simple partnership, no common marriage, would satisfy her in this relationship. If she were to have him, she would have him wholly, completely. She would return his devotion with devotion of her own, unwavering. But not that day. Not yet.

She was just finishing the first draft of the petition to the Wizengamot, which she would submit on Monday morning, when she heard a resounding crack of a loud Apparition. Malcolm had arrived, and was either announcing his arrival noisily or had come from some distance, Siofre thought, since he was perfectly capable of Disapparating and Apparating with no more than a slight echoing click if he chose.

She quickly tidied her desk and placed her goose quill in its holder, hurrying but not rushing to leave her study. She approached the top of the stairs, and she heard Malcolm's voice in the hall, greeting Lydia, who was complaining about Malcolm's dramatic arrival.

"Bless me! That booming Apparition still has my heart pounding, Malcolm! I am going to need a cup of tea to calm myself."

"Nay, Auntie, not a cup of tea! Something a bit tastier...and stronger! I'd not mind a glass, myself," Malcolm replied. He looked up the stairs and grinned. "And Grandmother comes. She will join us, won't you, Grandmother?"

Rather than wait for her to come down the great, broad staircase, he bounded up to meet her halfway. He kissed her cheek, then as she stepped down onto the stair beside him, he put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.

"I believe you've been a very busy witch these last days," Malcolm said, eyes sparkling, "but I had an interesting morning today, myself. And I'll tell you all about it...but where's Honnie? The man's not left for the day, has he?"

"He'll be along, I'm sure," Siofre said.

"He couldn't have failed to have heard your arrival even if he were down by the barley," Lydia added.

Indeed, they heard steps above them, coming down from the second floor where Johannes's rooms were. When he reached the first floor, Johannes smiled and trotted down more quickly to meet the others.

"Malcolm! Siofre said you would be here this evening," Johannes said, offering his hand.

Malcolm smiled and grasped Johannes's hand in his own. His smile froze on its way to his eyes, and then returned, though there was still a hint of puzzlement in his expression.

"I thought we'd have a drink in the teak lounge today," Lydia said. "I had Multry prepare some appetisers since you were coming, Malcolm."

Johannes hadn't yet seen the room which Lydia referred to, and followed the others. It was in the less-used part of the house, near the formal dining room and large parlour. The lounge was panelled in teak, as Lydia's name for it implied, and it had heavy, darker, more masculine furniture than that in the light, cheerful parlour or in the family sitting room. Large portraits of a few Tyrees hung along one wall, and tall brass sconces and three chandeliers were lit, warming the room with their candlelight, and a fire crackled cheerfully in the fireplace.

After they'd sat down and Malcolm had poured them each a glass of whisky...save Lydia, who sipped a sherry...their appetisers arrived, and Malcolm picked up three and gobbled them down.

"Laddie! Where are your manners! Egeria taught you better," Siofre scolded.

"Sorry, Grandmother." He waved his hand, and a tray of appetisers rose and floated over to Siofre. "I am famished, though that is no excuse for not offering the snacks around first."

The tray floated to each of the others, and as Johannes selected a small savoury pastry, he caught Malcolm looking at him curiously again, but then Malcolm turned to his grandmother.

"I had a very interesting commission today. Wizard wrote me in a panic yesterday. Sure he's been cursed, needs my help desperately, heard I'm the bee's knees, all that usual stuff, but he did sound more desperate than most, so I hopped on over to Cornwall bright and early this morning." Malcolm took a long swallow of whisky. "The man is in a state, pacing back and forth, hadn't slept the night before, and there wasn't a sensible word out of his mouth at first. I thought he might be a bit, you know, 'disturbed,' as they say," Malcolm said, tapping the side of his head. "His wife was making breakfast. I'd eaten already, but to be friendly and set the man at his ease, I sat down with him to a hearty breakfast of kidneys and salty porridge...actually rather nice...then told the lady of the house to have a seat and rest herself a bit. She looked about ready to pop. Must be nearing her fortieth week, easy. Thought I might be enlisted to deliver the bairn then and there, she's that close."

"Egeria will be pleased that you retain so much knowledge of midwifery," Siofre said drily.

"Well, she shouldn't have dragged me along with her all those years if she didn't want me to learn something. It was supposed to be educational, after all...even if I did enjoy my outings with you more," Malcolm said with a cheeky wink at his grandmother. "You're still my best lassie!"

Siofre shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"I know who you were seeing!" Lydia said excitedly.

"Indeed," Johannes agreed. "I believe we all do."

Malcolm gave them a crooked grin and turned to his grandmother. "So what have you been up to, Grandmother? I've never seen a man in such a swither over a few Temperance Charms placed on his threshold!"

"It wasn't only Temperance Charms I placed," Siofre replied.

"Nay, I could tell that, too. The entire house reeked of your magic...if you'll pardon the expression...and there's no magic like Siofre Tyree's. No mistaking it. I even found the wee hole you'd punched through his wards so you could Apparate into the kitchen, you sneaky old witch. But I listened to the man's tale of woe nonetheless. It was certain, he was, that some mysterious force had been following him the other day, too. Would that mighty force have been you?"

"Aye," Johannes said, "she followed Terwilliger on Wednesday, all day, from the time he left his house until he returned that evening."

Malcolm glanced over at Johannes, again seeming to look at him oddly.

"Did you tell him what the charms were?" Siofre asked.

"Nay, even before I recognised you there, I thought the man could do with a bit of temperance with a baby on the way. Thought there had to be a reason for the charms, and if he didn't know of them, the wife must have laid them, or had them cast for her, and I'd not deny a pregnant witch a sober husband."

"What did you tell him?" Lydia asked.

Malcolm smirked. "I thought I might help Grandmother along a little, so I told him quite honestly that I didn't detect a single trace of a curse on either him or his house, but that there was an unusual store of magic there. I said I'd seen it before, and suggested to him that we should have a little private talk out of earshot of his wife. I think she was a wee bit nervous then, but I had Cadoc help me clean up the breakfast dishes...I do believe he was thinking of leaving them to his wife, as if she were his house-elf or something...and we repaired to the sitting room. I made a great show of putting an Imperturbable on the room, then I sat him down for a wizard-to-wizard chat." Malcolm laughed. "I must say, I did have a bit of fun with this. Not quite sporting of me, maybe, but I told the fellow a few tall tales. Told him that it was a much hidden, highly guarded secret, and a rare occurrence, to boot, but that some wizards became magically pregnant as their wives' pregnancy progressed..."

Malcolm had to pause in his story to accommodate the others' laughter, Lydia whooping and slapping her knee, his grandmother chuckling, and even Johannes laughing and wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

"Well, anyway, I told him that in cases of a wizard's magical pregnancy, the wizard's excess energy often transfers itself to his abode, whatever it might be, and that in the case of stone houses such as his, the magic could resonate for many years to come, but that it would also provide a special nurturing energy for his bairn as she grew. I said it was a rare honour for a wizard to be able to provide such protection for his family, but that there were some costs to be borne, such as a reduced tolerance for drink. I asked him whether he'd noticed any such side-effect, and he nodded eagerly, agreeing that in the last few weeks, he'd scarcely been able to hold his liquor. Drink taken in his home made him sick, he said, and if he came home after having more than a pint or two, he'd pass out as soon as he crossed the threshold. It was one of the things that had made him believe he was cursed."

"Oh, dear, laddie! What have you wrought! What if he tells his mates?"

"Took care of that...said that the Ministry doesn't like this to be common knowledge...made up some balderdash about that which he swallowed easily. I told him that this magic pervading the house meant that he would be a superlative father and that his daughter...or son...would be an outstanding witch or wizard who would bring him great pride. I told him that the consequences would be severe for him if he tried to ignore the magic and its nurturing imperative, then made up a few tales of woe about wizards living under bridges with trolls, only a single robe to their names, begging for Knuts, and said that's what happened to any wizard who rejected the call to abide in accordance with the pregnancy magic and nurture his child in partnership with his wife."

"And what did you say about the force he thought was following him?" Lydia asked excitedly.

"Ah, now that I told him was the result of his attempts to escape his fate, and that worse than that would follow him if he didn't become the family man his magic was calling him to be. I told him that great joy and fulfilment could come to him if he lived in harmony with his natural parental magic...though I told him there were no guarantees there, and that the outside world did exert forces upon him and his family, as well...but that if he chose to follow this rare and splendid opportunity, he could be a very happy man."

Lydia laughed. "Such stories you make up, Malcolm! And he believed you!"

"Aye, because he wanted to. I could tell he wasn't a bad sort, not really, just married a wee bit young, maybe, and a bit lacking in self-confidence. Besides, there was a kernel of truth to it all...fatherhood is a wonderful calling, I'm sure, and being a good father should be a reward in itself. Provided, of course, that the child doesn't turn out to be a miserable creature." Malcolm shrugged.

"Well, I do hope you did more good than harm with that story, lad," Siofre said.

"I think so. I told him not to let on to his wife about it all, just to tell her that all was well and that he was looking forward to being a daddy. I also told him that if there are other sources of stress in his life, he should find ways to deal with them in a practical and constructive manner. That's when he told me he hated his job and his boss but was afraid to quit because of the baby on the way. Naturally I told him not to quit until he found another job, but suggested that he begin looking for one after the baby was born. Told him to consult a Seer or Arithmancer who specialises in career advice. I gave him Gertrude's name and told him that she takes commissions for particularly worthy cases, and if he mentioned my name, she might be able to make time for him...he just got out of Hogwarts a few years ago, so he knows who she is, but he didn't take Arithmancy, so he doesn't know her at all well."

"You'd better tell your witch what tales you spun for the fellow so that she doesn't say anything that out-and-out contradicts you," Siofre said.

"I didn't give him any career advice, per se, so if she concentrates on that...or whatever Seer he might choose concentrates on his career...my little tales should remain intact."

"Well, you might want to mention the newspaper business to Gertrude. I sent Kiera with a letter to a friend of mine at the Prophet," Siofre said, "and mentioned that he might try to run into Terwilliger in a casual way and talk to him about the newspaper business."

"And this friend, he will do this?" Johannes asked curiously. "Simply . . . run into the man and discuss jobs with him?"

"Gerald Mackintosh owes me a favour or two, so he will. But not to discuss jobs. Just the business in general, and if Terwilliger sees an opportunity and tries for it, that depends upon him, and there is no obligation on Mackie to hire the man if he's not suited."

"I remember Gerald," Lydia said dreamily. "I haven't seen him in years, though. Wonder if he's still the same . . ."

"I ran into him in Diagon Alley a few months ago, Aunt Lydia, and he's still a bonny one!" Malcolm said with a grin. He added to Johannes, "You can count on Aunt Lydia to remember the good-looking men! Quite an appreciative eye, she has!"

"Oh, go on!" Lydia said. "You make me sound like some lecherous old hag!"

"Not at all, Auntie! You simply have an artist's appreciation for beauty! And if it happens to come in a masculine package, so much the better!" Malcolm teased. "I'm sure the others are in agreement with me, too, that no one could ever mistake you for a hag, lecherous or otherwise."

Johannes, though used to Malcolm's sense of humour and his gentle...or not so gentle...teasing, did feel compelled to defend Lydia. "She is, indeed, an artist, and, if I may speak so plainly," he said with a gentlemanly nod at Lydia, "she is also quite lovely herself, and in no way hag-like."

Malcolm laughed at that, and Lydia chuckled.

"Thank you, Johannes. You are a gentleman," Lydia said with a fond smile.

"I see why you two ladies like to keep the man here," Malcolm said with a smile. "But he is quite right, too." Malcolm got up from his chair, setting down his empty glass, and went over to Lydia. He bent and kissed her cheek. "You are lovely. But," he said as he straightened and turned to the others, "Honnie should remember that it was not I who compared her to a hag, but the lady herself."

A light, clear tone rang through the house, and Siofre set down her own glass and stood. "That would be dinner. Let us not keep Multry's meal waiting...especially as the grandson is likely still famished despite the dozen tidbits he ate...such tale-telling does work up an appetite!"