Диана Уинн Джонс - Дом ста дорог [with w_cat]
[100] Ah. A wash house, she thought. I think you have to put those laundry bags in the tank and boil them up. But how? I'm beginning to think I've led a much too sheltered life.
[101] "And a good thing too," she said aloud, thinking of the washerwoman's red hands and mauve face.
[102] But that doesn't help me wash dishes, she thought. Or about a bath. Am I supposed to boil myself in that tank? And where shall I sleep, for goodness' sake?
[103] Leaving the door open for Waif, she went back indoors, where she marched past the sink, the bags of laundry, the crowded table, and the heap of her own things on the floor, and dragged open the door in the far wall. Beyond it was the musty living room again.
[104] "This is hopeless!" she said. "Where are bedrooms? Where is a bathroom?"
[105] Great-Uncle William's tired voice spoke out of the air. "For bedrooms and bathroom, turn left as soon as you open the kitchen door, my dear. Please forgive any disorder you find."
[106] Charmain looked back through the open kitchen door to the kitchen beyond it.
[107] "Oh, yes?" she said. "Well, let's see."
She walked carefully backward into the kitchen and shut the door in front of her. Then she hauled it open again, with what she was beginning to think of as the usual struggle, and turned briskly left into the door frame before she had time to think of it as impossible.
She found herself in a passageway with an open window at the far end. The breeze coming in through the window was strongly full of the mountain smell of snow and flowers. Charmain had a startled glimpse of a sloping green meadow and faraway blue distances, while she was busy turning the handle and shoving her knee against the nearest door.
[108] This door came open quite easily, as if it were used rather a lot. Charmain stumbled forward into a smell that caused her instantly to forget the scents from the window. She stood with her nose up, sniffing delightedly. It was the delicious mildewy fragrance of old books. Hundreds of them, she saw, looking round the room. Books were lined up on shelves on all four walls, stacked on the floor, and piled on the desk, old books in leather covers mostly, although some of the ones on the floor had newer looking colored jackets. This was obviously Great-Uncle William's study.
"Oooh!" Charmain said.
[109] Ignoring the way the view from the window was of the hydrangeas in the front garden, she dived to look at the books on the desk. Big, fat, redolent books, they were, and some of them had metal clasps to keep them shut as if they were dangerous open. Charmain had the nearest one already in her hands when she noticed the stiff piece of paper spread out on the desk, covered with shaky handwriting.
[110] "My dear Charmain," she read, and sat herself down in the padded chair in front of the desk to read the rest.
[111] My dear Charmain,
Thank you for so kindly agreeing to look after this house in my absence. The elves tell me I should be gone for about two weeks. (Thank goodness for that!, Charmain thought.) Or possibly a month if there are complications. (Oh.) You really must forgive any disorder you find here. I have been afflicted for quite some time now. But I am sure you are a resourceful young lady and will find your feet here quite readily. In case of any difficulty, I have left spoken directions for you wherever these seemed necessary. All you need do is speak your question aloud and it should be answered.
More complex matters you will find explained in the suitcase. Please be kind to Waif, who has not been with me for long enough to feel secure, and please feel free to help yourself to any books in this study, apart from those actually on this desk, which are for the most part too powerful and advanced for you. (Pooh. As if I cared for that!, Charmain thought.) Meanwhile I wish you a happy sojourn here and hope to be able to thank you in person before very long.
Your affectionate great-great-uncle-by-marriage,
William Norland
[112] "I suppose he is by-marriage," Charmain said aloud. "He must be Aunt Sempronia's great-uncle, really, and she married Uncle Ned, who is Dad's uncle, except that he's dead now. What a pity. I was starting to hope I'd inherited some of his magic." And she said politely to the air, "Thank you very much, Great-Uncle William."
[113] There was no reply. Charmain thought, Well, there wouldn't be. That wasn't a question. And she set about exploring the books on the desk.
[114] The fat book she had in her hand was called The Book of Void and Nothingness. Not surprisingly, when she opened it, the pages were blank. But she could feel under her fingers each empty page sort of purring and writhing with hidden magics. She put it down rather quickly and picked up one called Wall's Guide to Astromancy instead. This was slightly disappointing, because it was mostly diagrams of black dotted lines with numbers of square red dots spreading out from the black lines in various patterns, but almost nothing to read. All the same, Charmain spent longer looking at it than she expected. The diagrams must have been hypnotic in some way. But eventually, with a bit of a wrench, she put it down and turned to one called Advanced Seminal Sorcery, which was not her kind of thing at all. It was closely printed in long paragraphs that mostly seemed to begin, "If we extrapolate from our findings in my earlier work, we find ourselves ready to approach an extension of the paratypical phenomenology…"
[115] No, Charmain thought. I don't think we are ready.
[116] She put that one down too and lifted up the heavy, square book on the corner of the desk. It was called Das Zauberbuch and it turned out to be in a foreign language. Probably what they speak in Ingary, Charmain decided. But, most interestingly, this book had been acting as a paperweight to a pile of letters underneath it, from all over the world. Charmain spent a long time going nosily through the letters and becoming more and more impressed with Great-Uncle William. Nearly all of them were from other wizards who were wanting to consult Great-Uncle William on the finer points of magic—clearly, they thought of him as the great expert—or to congratulate him on his latest magical discovery. One and all of them had the most terrible handwriting. Charmain frowned and scowled at them and held the worst one up to the light.
[117] Dear Wizard Norland (it said, as far as she could read it), Your book, Crucial Cantrips, has been a great help to me in my dimensional (or is that "demented"? Charmain wondered) work, but I would like to draw your attention to a small discovery of mine related to your section on
Murdoch's Ear ("Merlin's Arm? Murphy's Law?" I give up! Charmain thought). When I next find myself in High Yours alluringly ("allergically? admiringly? antiphony?" Lord! What writing! Charmain thought),
Wizard Howl Pendragon
[118] "Dear, dear! He must write with a poker!" Charmain said aloud, picking up the next letter.
This one was from the King himself and the writing, though wavery and old-fashioned, was much easier to read.
[119] Dear Wm (Charmain read, with growing awe and surprise),
We are now more than halfway through Our Great Task and as yet none the wiser. We rely on you. It is Our devout
Hope that the Elves We sent you will succeed in restoring you to Health and that We will again shortly have the
Inestimable Benefit of your Advice and Encouragement. Our Best Wishes go with you.
Yours, in Sincere Hope,
Adolphus Rex High Norland
[120] So the King sent those elves! "Well, well," Charmain murmured, leafing through the final stack of letters. Every single one of these was written in different sorts of someone's best handwriting. They all seemed to say the same thing in different ways: "Please, Wizard Norland, I would like to become your apprentice. Will you take me on?" Some of them went on to offer Great-Uncle William money. One of them said he could give Great-Uncle William a magical diamond ring, and another, who seemed to be a girl, said, rather pathetically, "I am not very pretty myself, but my sister is, and she says she will marry you if you agree to teach me."
[121] Charmain winced and only flipped hastily through the rest of the stack. They reminded her so very much of her own letter to the King. And quite as useless, she thought. It was obvious to her that these were the kind of letters that a famous wizard would instantly write and say "No" to. She bundled them all back under Das Zauberbuch and looked at the other books on the desk. There was a whole row of tall, fat books at the back of the desk, all labeled Res Magica, which she thought she would look at later. She picked up two more books at random. One was called Mrs. Pentstemmon's Path: Signposts to the Truth and it struck her as a trifle moralizing. The other, when she had thumbed open its metal clasp and spread it out at its first page, was called The Boke of Palimpsest. When Charmain turned over the next pages, she found that each page contained a new spell—a clear spell, too, with a title saying what it did and, below that, a list of ingredients, followed by numbered stages telling you what you had to do.
[122] "This is more like it!" Charmain said, and settled down to read.
A long time later, while she was trying to decide which was more useful, "A Spell to Tell Friend from Foe" or "A Spell to Enlarge the Mind," or perhaps even "A Spell for Flying," Charmain suddenly knew that she had crying need of a bathroom. This tended to happen to her when she had been absorbed in reading. She sprang up, squeezing her knees together, and then realized that a bathroom was a place she had still not found.
[123] "Oh, how do I find the bathroom from here?" she cried out.
Reassuringly, Great-Uncle William's kind, frail voice spoke out of the air at once. "Turn left in the passage, my dear, and the bathroom is the first door on the right."
"Thank you!" Charmain gasped, and ran.
[124] Chapter Three
IN WHICH CHARMAIN WORKS SEVERAL SPELLS AT ONCE
[125] The bathroom was as reassuring as Great-Uncle William's kindly voice. It had a worn greenstone floor and a little window, at which fluttered a green net curtain. And it had all the fitments Charmain knew from home. And home has nothing but the best, she thought. Better still, it had taps and the toilet flushed. True, the bath and the taps were strange, slightly bulbous shapes, as if the person who installed them had not been quite sure what he or she was aiming at; but the taps, when Charmain experimentally turned them on, ran cold and hot water, just as they were supposed to, and there were warm towels on a rail under the mirror.
[126] Perhaps I can put one of those laundry bags in the bath, Charmain mused. How would I squeeze it dry?
[127] Across the corridor from the bathroom was a row of doors, stretching away into dim distance. Charmain went to the nearest one and pushed it open, expecting it to lead to the living room. But there was a small bedroom beyond it instead, obviously Great-Uncle William's, to judge by the mess. The white covers trailed off the unmade bed, almost on top of several stripey nightshirts scattered over the floor. Shirts dangled out of drawers, along with socks and what looked like long underclothes, and the open cupboard held a musty-smelling uniform of some kind. Under the window were two more sacks stuffed full of laundry. Charmain groaned aloud.
[128] "I suppose he's been ill for quite a time," she said, trying to be charitable. "But, mother-ofpearl, why do I have to deal with it all?"
[129] The bed started twitching.
[130] Charmain jumped round to face it. The twitching was Waif, curled up comfortably in the mound of bedclothes, scratching for a flea. When he saw Charmain looking at him, he wagged his flimsy tail and groveled, lowered his frayed ears, and whispered a pleading whine at her.
[131] "You're not supposed to be there, are you?" she said to him. "All right. I can see you're comfortable—and I'm blowed if I'm sleeping in that bed anyway."
[132] She marched out of the room and opened the next door along. To her relief, there was another bedroom there almost identical with Great-Uncle William's, except that this one was tidy. The bed was clean and neatly made, the cupboard was shut, and when she looked, she found the drawers were empty. Charmain nodded approval at the room and opened the next door along the corridor. There was another neat bedroom there, and beyond that another, each one exactly the same.
[133] I'd better throw my things around the one that's mine, or I'll never find it again, she thought.
[134] She turned back into the corridor to find that Waif had come off the bed and was now scratching at the bathroom door with both front paws. "You won't want to go in there," Charmain told him. "None of it's any use to you."
[135] But the door came open somehow before Charmain got to it. Beyond it was the kitchen. Waif trotted jauntily in there and Charmain groaned again. The mess had not gone away. There were the dirty crockery and the laundry bags, with the addition now of a teapot lying in a pool of tea, Charmain's clothes in a heap near the table, and a large green bar of soap in the fireplace.
[136] "I'd forgotten all this," Charmain said.
[137] Waif put both tiny front paws on the bottom rung of the chair and raised himself to his full small length, pleadingly.
"You're hungry again," Charmain diagnosed. "So am I."
[138] She sat in the chair and Waif sat on her left foot and they shared another pasty. Then they shared a fruit tart, two doughnuts, six chocolate biscuits, and a custard flan. After this Waif plodded rather heavily away to the inner door, which opened for him as soon as he scratched at it. Charmain gathered up her pile of clothes and followed him, meaning to put her things in the first empty bedroom.
[139] But here things went a trifle wrong. Charmain pushed the door open with one elbow and, fairly naturally, turned right to go into the corridor with the bedrooms in it. She found herself in complete darkness. Almost at once she walked into another door, where she hit her elbow on its doorknob with a clang.
