Yesterday's Magic Read Free

presents later.”
    The creature snorted. “Not really want wife. But prezzies good.”
    Ignoring their banter, Merlin remarked, “I don’t quite like the feeling of this bunch. Maybe it’s just that they were associated too long with Morgan and her Otherworld and mutie friends. But they have an unsettling aura about them.” Frowning, he said, “I’m going to the Manor so I can be with Arthur when he greets them.” Hurriedly he descended a narrow flight of stone steps.
    Troll followed, but Heather stayed a moment, studying the newcomers for herself. From above, she couldn’t see or sense anything clearly threatening, but there were definitely various degrees of mutations in the party. That wasn’t saying much, she knew. All modern horses, due to radiation exposure, had mutated back to an earlier, three-toed form. Even the warhorses Arthur had been breeding for size retained the three toes. And after the destruction of Earth’s protective ozone, the humans most likely to survive all had darker skin. The palest people she’d ever met were Merlin and Arthur—and Morgan—all of whom had originally lived long before the Devastation.
    Still, although she didn’t have Merlin’s sensitivities, there was something about the party now passing through the gate beneath her that left Heather uneasy. There was some sort of mental stench about them, like when cooks use spices but fail to cover up the taste of rotting meat. Perhaps the fact that King Douglas had once been an ally of Morgan’s was enough to explain it. Everything Morgan brushed against had a smudge of evil about it. With a shiver, Heather turned and hurried after the others. Behind her, Rus jumped up and stuck both heads out through an embrasure. He growled as the last of the Norfolk party passed underneath. Then with a whine he turned and trotted after his mistress.

P REPARATIONS
    Y ork’s narrow cobbled streets twisted between buildings showing many centuries of architecture. Usually Rus would range widely, darting up alleys and smelling every cornerstone. But now he trotted close to Heather as she quickly threaded her way to the Manor. The sprawling building had known many uses in its days. It now served as the residence of Basil, Duke of York, and the temporary guest residence for King Arthur of Cumbria and Margaret, Queen of Scots.
    Admitted automatically by the guards, Heather hurried through the now-bustling courtyard. She patted Rus’s heads and gestured for him to go to the kennels. Instead of going, he whined and pressed against her legs.
    Sorry, Rus,
she thought at him,
but you really freak out those girls I’m rooming with. We can stick together once we’re away from York. Arthur’s party is a lot more used to you, after all.
He kept whining, but she pushed him firmly in the direction of the Duke’s kennels, then hurried up the back stairs toward the rooms she shared with three ladies of Duke Basil’s court.
    The three were all now in the common room primping to look their best for the new arrivals. Heather figured she’d better at least change into a dress. She went into her own small room and pawed through a couple of crumpled linen dresses in her trunk before settling on a plain gray wool. She’d given up thinking that clothes could do much for her appearance. No matter what she wore, her body was still skinny, her face long, and her muddy blond hair thin and wispy.
    She returned to the common room and studied herself in the room’s one cracked mirror. Her frown slid away. She didn’t care about all that so much now. She had once, but not anymore. She felt the new happiness bubble through her. She wasn’t just the homely misfit lucky to have a couple of friends. Somebody
loved
her. Somebody she loved so very much.
    She smiled at the other girls, who were giggling among themselves. They were several years younger than she and were all looking for husbands or already engaged. Heather knew that the dangers of her world and the