Wizard's Daughter (Sherbrooke Brides 10)

Nicholas merely shook His head at Grayson. "I don't un­derstand it, but there you have it. You have the book, Grayson, and that is enough."

"But this makes no sense," Rosalind said. "Why did the booksellers remember him, then ten minutes later, forget him entirely?"

There was no reply from either Grayson or Nicholas.

"Why do you remember the old man and the stall if the others don't, Grayson?"

"I don't know, Rosalind, I don't know."

When they turned back to the decrepit old bookstall, it was to see several rough boards littering the ground.

Grayson felt a quiver of something scary deep inside. "This is passing strange." He gave them a false smile. "Nicholas is right. I have the Rules of the Pale. And that's what's important. Perhaps the book broke through the Pale to come to me through the old man. Maybe the old man was the ancient wizard. I remember Mr. Oakby said he'd heard from his own mentor many years before that Sarimund wrote of his talks with ghosts. Perhaps that is why the old man wanted me to have it. He knows of all the ghosts that litter my mental landscape." And he laughed, a laugh that hid questions and the fear of something not to be explained. He looked down at the book he held reverently in his hand. "I must think about all this. I will see you at home, Rosalind." He nodded to Nicholas and quickly left them.

Nicholas wanted that book, wanted it badly, but there was nothing he could do. As he escorted Rosalind back to his carriage, Rosalind said, "How do you know of Magnus Sarimund, my lord?"

"We have watched a drunken juggler, listened to a group of young men sing to you, and I have even eaten part of your lunch. You should call me Nicholas, if you please. How do I know of Sarimund? Well, my grandfather visited the Bulgar. He told me he supped with the Titled Wizard of the East, as he is called, an ancient relic whose beard tip actually brushed over his sandals. The Titled Wizard of the East told him that Sarimund lived five years in the caves of the Charon Labyrinth with other holy men and wizards, the caves more dangerous than any other caverns in the Bulgar, what with their sheer abysses and knife-sharp stalagmites to stab the unwary, more dangerous than even a mad sirocco, he said. The Titled Wizard of the East told him that during the five years of Sarimund's stay, travelers who happened to venture too close to the caves were met by strange frighten­ing visions and plagued by demons in their dreams. My grandfather asked him if wizards still inhabited the caves and the w

izard gave him a smile that bespoke many things he couldn't begin to understand, he or any other human be­ing, for that matter. The wizard said only, 'Of course,' and nothing more."

"Did this Sarimund really speak to ghosts?"

"My grandfather believed he did." Nicholas assisted her up into the carriage. He nodded to the man sitting in the dri­ver's seat, a leather hat pulled low over his forehead. "Back to Putnam Square, Lee."

"Certainly, my lord."

Rosalind said, "He sounds like a gentleman."

"He is," Nicholas said, and nothing more.

"Why is he wearing that lovely leather cap pulled nearly to his nose? Why is a gentleman your servant?"

He gave her a charming smile. "It is none of your affair, Rosalind."

When Nicholas had settled himself across from her, Ros­alind cocked her head at him. "All right, it is none of my business. Now, you swear to me this Magnus Sarimund was a real man?"

"Oh, yes, Sarimund was quite real, according to my grandfather. He lived in the sixteenth century, mostly in York, but also spent a lot of his time in the Mediterranean. On the islands, I suppose, though no one knows where exactly. It is said he had a hidden sanctuary there where he conducted his magical experiments. Then he journeyed to the Bulgar. When he came out, he went to Constantinople, to be welcomed by Suleiman the Magnificent. 'He wrote the Rules of the Pale there. I believe he had twenty or so copies made of his manu­script. It is indeed something of magic in itself to find one of the copies here. And that Grayson found it."

"Evidently the old bookseller made certain Grayson had it. And now it would seem that the old bookseller simply disappeared—that was very strange, Nicholas."

He said nothing.

"How odd that both you and Grayson know about the Rules of the Pale and this Sarimund." He merely nodded.

"Very well, keep your secrets. Did this Sarimund write other books?"

"Not that I know of, at least not that my grandfather said."

"And now the bookseller is gone," Rosalind shivered. "As if he never existed. You have read it, haven't you, Nicholas? You have actually seen another copy of the Rules of the Pale."

"Yes, I have. My grandfather said he found a copy in a dusty old bookshop in York where Sarimund had lived."

"Did he read to you from the Rules of the Pale? Discuss it with you? Do you remember what it said?"

"No, he never exactly read to me from the book itself, simply told me stories about Sarimund before—well, never mind that."

"Was your grandfather a wizard, Nicholas? You said he visited the Bulgar, he met with this old man called the Titled Wizard of the East."

Nicholas said slowly as he stared out the carriage window, "I cannot really answer that. I remember he knew things that most men didn't, he could tell me things about people's thoughts and feelings, but did he simply make it all up? I don't know."