Stolen Magic by Gail Carson Levine

stutter on the stone floor.
    â€œJohan, Johan,” Ursa-bee said in a sugary voice that annoyed Elodie and must have infuriated him.
    They exited through a door on the east wall. Outside, they followed a short corridor straight ahead and then turned left, the opposite direction from the high brunka’s chamber, into a region of the Oase Elodie hadn’t yet penetrated. As they walked, she hatched a plan to search the other guests’ rooms. She probably wouldn’t find the Replica, since bees had already looked, but doubtlessshe’d find clues. IT would be pleased.
    They progressed down a corridor lit by glowworms: unbroken wall on the left, a series of closed doors on the right.
    â€œWhat are these rooms for?”
    Ursa-bee answered. “They hold relics and books.”
    â€œAre all the walls in the Oase made of stone?”
    Ursa-bee stopped to think. Johan-bee continued for a few steps, then waited.
    â€œAll,” Ursa-bee said, “except the one in the great hall that faces out of the mountain.”
    â€œThe floors and ceilings are carved out of rock, too,” Johan-bee added.
    Nothing could be hidden in solid stone. A little less to search.
    They turned right and came upon a row of doors on the left.
    â€œThe guests are staying in these rooms. Here’s the Donkey.” Ursa-bee pointed at the last door, on which an elegant donkey had been painted in yellow, with a garland of blue flowers around its neck.
    When Johan-bee opened the door, Elodie thanked him twice, to make up a little for the bees’ rudeness.
    The room was tiny. If Johan-bee had spread his arms, his fingers would have touched each wall. The head of the bed abutted the wall next to the door and the foot touchedthe one opposite. Still, a bed was a luxury compared to her pallet on the floor at her parents’ Potluck Farm.
    Next to the foot of the bed stood a three-legged stool. A wooden chest squatted against the adjacent wall. The chamber was warm and glowworm bright.
    Ursa-bee lifted the pillow to reveal a dark-blue linen mask. “Tie this on to block the light.”
    Elodie took off her boots. Ursa-bee and Johan-bee left. As soon as the bees had returned to the hall, she’d leave, too, and start her search.
    While she waited, she’d lie down.
    She was asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
    M asteress Meenore had interviewed the bees who guarded the Replica when High Brunka Marya discovered the theft. Both had been at the Oase for more than fifteen years, and they’d sworn that their post had never been abandoned. If true—and IT had found no reason to doubt them—then the most likely time for the theft was near the end of Ursa-bee and Johan-bee’s turn guarding, when he’d been in the privy and she’d gone to investigate the weeping.
    IT had also already interrogated Johan-bee and Ludda-bee. The conversation with the cook left IT wishing to scrub ITs earholes. Johan-bee’s brief answers had revealed little. He’d talked at length only about his digestive difficulties.
    IT chose Dror-bee to interview next.
    â€œPlease find the Replica, Masteress.” Dror-bee looked hopeful and eager to help.
    â€œI intend to. You are from Zertrum, are you not?”
    â€œHow did you guess?”
    ITs smoke spiraled. “I never guess. You are not permitted to guard the Replica, correct?”
    Dror-bee shook his head. “Yes. I’ve only been a bee for three months.”
    â€œJust so. Who do you think may have stolen it?”
    The bee shrugged, raising his shoulders to his ears.
    â€œSpeculate.”
    He clapped his hands, then wrung them. “Mistress Sirka.”
    â€œAh. Is she avaricious?”
    Silence. He shifted from foot to foot.
    Masteress Meenore wished to hold him in place. The man was never still. But why wouldn’t he answer? Ah. “ Avaricious means greedy.”
    â€œShe doesn’t mind being