Bernie’s face cleared. “Oh! No, he wasn’t.”
“Yes, he was.” She frowned. “Who was there, you or me?”
“Hewas there. He says he quickly came to, and—ah—certain convincers suggested the best thing for a man in his position was pretending to be out cold, thus getting no further attention from said convincers or later blame from Organization leaders.”
She felt nearly as relieved as she had when first able to recategorize the wizard from dead to alive. One fewer item on her list of things to be ashamed about. And one less wrongdoing to heap at Hartgrave’s doorstep, though it wasn’t as if that shifted the balance of his deeds in a substantial way.
She sighed, closed the wine box she’d finished checking and moved it out of the way. Just beyond, at the bottom of a stack of plain brown boxes, was a battered trunk—the first thing she’d seen here that wasn’t made of or stored in cardboard.
“Hey,” she said, “this looks promising.”
Bernie, at the other end of the attic, wasted no time by picking his way around the boxes they hadn’t already moved downstairs. He materialized beside her andshifted the boxes stacked on the trunk so they could try opening it.
Locked. Naturally.
She glared at the thing. “Can you convince it open?”
He shrugged, a dubious twist to his lips. “I could try, but I’ve never been taught.”
“Maybe the key’s inanotherbox.” She reached out to examine the old lock. “It seems only appro—oh!”
She jerked back out of sheer surprise.
“What? Are you hurt?”
“No.” She wrapped her fingers around the metal a second time, the vibrations faint but unmistakable.
The lock came apart. She held it up for Bernie to see.
“Jackpot,” he murmured.
Together, they lifted the lid.
26
Narrators
“Well, now,” Emily said many hours later, ensconced in her family’s most comfortable chair. “I’d call this a pretty solid day’s work.”
Bernie snorted. “I’d call that the understatement of all time. Hang on, let’s see if Willi can join us.”
He pulled out his cell phone and dialed. “Willi! Have you closed for the night? ... Good—pop over to Em’s.”
Willi must have asked why because Bernie laughed and said, “Trust me.”
After materializing just inside the front door, Willi took one look at the yellowing paper piled all over the adjoining living room carpet and stepped forward in obvious excitement. “Vintner’s?”
She nodded, grinning.
Willi’s eyes went even wider. “So he reallywasa magic-user? He reallydidmake the room?”
“And wrote in detail about how he did it!” She allowed herself a single bounce of enthusiasm. “Guess.”
He blinked. “Ah ...”
Never mind, she couldn’t wait for guesses. “With awand. Go on,” she said to Bernie, “show him.”
Bernie held up the cedar specimen left in the trunk.
