Magic Can Be Murder by Vivian Vande Velde Page A

supper."
    "Alone?"
    "Yes."
    "And Alan was...?"
    "At that point," she said, hoping not to contradict anything Alan or Brinna had said earlier, "I didn't know." Hurriedly she continued, "I heard..." Galvin had asked where she was when lnnis had cried out. Was that a trap? Had Brinna told him she heard lnnis, or was it the box crashing to the floor that had brought her running? Nola had to trust that the hints she gathered from him were true, or she would end up being so vague and evasive that he would start suspecting her. All in a rush she said, "I heard a cry, and Alan and I came running, and we got co the door, and opened it, and there was Master Innis lying on the floor, bleeding."
    "Who arrived at the door first?"
    "It happened so fast." She could see Galvin wasn't going to settle for that. She had half a chance of giving the same answer Brinna had this morning. "I think I did."
Alan?
she thought again. Why was he suspecting Alan? Because her answers kept shifting? She didn't want to cast suspicion on Alan, but she didn't want Galvin suspecting her, either. "I'm sorry I'm so confused. Everything happened so fast, and I was frightened. People in the market kept having me repeat everything, and then—by saying ic over and over—I remembered some things I hadn't even realized I'd noticed before." Not likely, but possible. And where was all this going to leave the real Brinna when she came back?
    And it was just as Ñola thought chis that she looked up and saw Brinna through the open shutter, carrying her marketing basket, coming through the courtyard toward the kitchen door.

CHAPTER TEN
    N OLA JUMPED TO her feet. "I must go back to the market," she cried, "before someone finds my basket and decides to keep it! Master Kirwyn will be so vexed with me."
    Even while Galvin opened his mouth to explain, "I'm sorry, but I have a few more questions," he got his foot down from the bench and took a step back as though suspecting she was about to trample him on her way out. It was a nice thought, bur she didn't dare go any farther: If she went past him and he turned to follow or even to watch, he would be able to see out the window as clearly as she could.
    So, instead, she hurriedly turned the other way, to face the table.
    He said, "This doesn't have to cake long, and I can explain to Master Kirwyn—"
    "Only, let me put this pot on the fire first so it can start to simmer and be ready by supper," she blurted all in a rush, talking over his objections, trusting once more that Brinna's good looks would let her get away with being a dithering fool. She hoped Galvin didn't know enough about running a household to be aware that any beans she started heating now would be a sodden mush by suppertime.
    "Brinna," Galvin said, still sounding patient, "really, I must insist—"
    Ignoring Galvin and his protests, she picked up the pot in which the beans had been soaking. Then she let it slip through her hands. It hit the edge of the table, flipped over, and sent beans and water flying all over the floor. And over Galvin's leg.
    "Oh!" Nola cried. "How clumsy of me! I'm so sorry." She grabbed a cloth and went toward him, but he wisely stepped away before she could inflict more damage, which showed a quickness to learn on his part chat Nola had to admire. Nor did he yell at her, but she tallied that as one more benefit she owed to Brinna's appearance rather than as any credit ro Galvin.
    "Stay here," he ordered her, quietly though firmly, as if recognizing that her clumsiness might be an attempt ac a diversion.
    "Yes," she said, in a tone meant to indicate she'd never suggested going anywhere else. "Just getting out of your way." She stepped toward the window so that if he looked up now, she would block most of the view, Brinna was within five strides of the door. There was no way Nola could ever get out of here without transforming in plain sight of either her or Galvin.
    There was only one other choice that Nola could think of: Transform