The Wilder (The Trouble with Magic Book 1) Read Free Page A

stood before him. It was a complete transformation. Grub’s shoulder-length hair which Symon had thought was black, was now a rich chestnut brown, tied into a neat queue at the nape of his neck. The absence of blood and grime revealed a rather square-jawed face, deeply tanned from long hours spent outdoors. A lively intelligence lit dark eyes above a potentially infectious grin, marred only by a small chip in one of his upper front teeth.
    Holding his arms wide, Grub made a quick turn on the spot. “What d’you think?”
    Symon rubbed his chin, nodding his approval at the dark trousers, blue tunic and rather well worn but serviceable leather jerkin. “I think you have good taste for one of such tender years.” His brow furrowed. “Did you put some of that salve on your cuts and bruises?”
    Grub nodded. “Yes. Thank you. Look!” He pulled up each sleeve of the tunic in turn and showed Symon his wrists. The angry red weals inflicted by the chafing manacles had already faded to narrow bands of pink, still conspicuous against his tanned skin.
    Symon smiled and stepped forward. “Good. Now, let’s get rid of this dirty water, then we can have a cup of tea, something to eat…” He reached down and grasped the handle at one end of the bathtub, while fixing Grub with a determined look. “…and a good … long…chat.”
    Grub’s face took on a sullen cast as he grasped the other handle. “I don’t think it’ll take all that long.”
    Lifting his end of the tub, he gave a startled little gasp as the murky water rushed down to Symon’s end, threatening to slop over the edge and soak his robe and feet. Just in time, Grub lowered his end a little, and the water rolled lazily back along the tub in a miniature tidal wave. They exchanged relieved glances. With Grub forced into a most uncomfortable looking crouch, the two carefully carried the tub outside into the early autumn sunshine and headed for the ditch.
    The bathwater disposed of, Symon indicated the well. “Draw some water, rinse out the bath and put it back under the stairs. I have one more thing to take care of, then we’ll go up.”
    Grub’s old discarded clothes made a pitiful bundle, lying against the tower’s grey wall. A few carefully uttered words and a simple gesture were sufficient to ignite the soiled and tattered garments. As the smoke began to drift towards him, Symon moved upwind, just as Grub emerged from the doorway. Skirting the little bonfire, he stood beside Symon and gave him a sheepish grin.
    He wrinkled his nose and his lip curled. “Paugh! they do whiff a bit, don’t they?”
    The little magician’s mouth made a wry curve as he gave Grub a sidelong glance. “Just a tad, my boy; just a tad”
    When nothing remained but a little heap of ash for the autumn breeze to toy with, Symon moved towards the open door. “Come on in, Grub. We’ll go up and I’ll make some tea.”
    He began to lead the way up the dog-legged stairs to his comfortable living quarters at the top of his tower. Grub was about to follow, when a grey cat sidled round the edge of the open door. It gazed up at him from large amethyst eyes, blinked slowly and began to rub its face against his ankles. Crouching down, Grub gently stroked the affectionate feline’s long silky coat. The cat pushed its face into his hand and began a deep reverberating purr.
    Symon gazed intently at the little scene for a moment before giving a satisfied nod. “That’s good. She doesn’t take to everyone, you know.”
    He turned to climb the stairs and Grub heard the old magician say to himself, “Good, good, an excellent start.”
    Abruptly ceasing its display of affection, the cat bounded up after the magician, disappearing into the semi-darkness above, leaving Grub to bring up the rear.
     

CHAPTER FOUR
    Nothing in his imagination had prepared the boy for Symon’s rooms, and he felt a little deflated by the absence of the anticipated crystal balls, strange devices, tall candle-sticks