by Diane Duane
She nodded. “God, how awful…” For a creature with the intense possessiveness of a fireworm to be unable to remember what it had in its hoard would be sheer torture. It would never be able to be sure whether everything was there; if something was missing, it might not be able to tell. And to a fireworm, whose pride was in its defense of its hoard from even the cleverest thieves, there was no greater shame than to be stolen from and not notice and avenge the theft immediately. The Eldest must live constantly with the fear of that shame. Even now it had forgotten Kit and Nita and Fred as it dug and muttered frantically, trying to find something, though uncertain of what it was looking for.
Nita was astonished to find that she was feeling sorry for a creature that had tried to kill her a few minutes before. “Kit,” she whispered, “what about the bright Book? Is it in there?”
He glanced down at the dark Book, which was straining in his backpack toward the piled-up hoard. “Yes it is. But how’re we going to find it? And are you sure that defense shield is going to hold up at close range, when it comes after us? You know it’s not going to just let us take something.”
Why not trade it something? Fred asked suddenly.
Nita and Kit both looked at him, struck by the idea. “Like what?” Kit asked.
Like another Book?
“Oh no,” they said in simultaneous shock.
“Fred,” Kit said then, “we can’t do that. The—you-know-who—he’ll just come right here and get it!”
So where did you get it from, anyway? Doubtless he could have read from it anytime he wanted. If you can get the bright Book back to the Senior wizards in your world, can’t they use it to counteract whatever he does?
Nita and Kit both thought about that.
“It could work,” Nita said after a second. “Besides, Kit—if we do leave the dark Book here, can you imagine the guy up in the Tower getting it back without some trouble?” She glanced up at the mound, where the Eldest was whispering threats of death and destruction against whoever might come to steal. “He wouldn’t have put the bright Book here unless the Eldest was pretty good as a guardian.”
Even through the discomfort of holding the dark Book, Kit managed to crack a small smile. “Gonna try it?”
Nita took a step forward.
Instantly the dragon paused in its digging to stare at her, its scaly lips wrinkled away from black fangs in a snarl, but its eyes frightened. “Eldest,” she said in the Speech, “ we don’t come to steal. We’re here to make a bargain. “
The Eldest stared at Nita a moment more, then narrowed its eyes further. “Hss, you’re a clever thiefff,” it said. “ Why ssshould I bargain with you?”
Wizardry is words, the book had said. Believe, and create the truth; but be careful what you believe. Nita gulped. “Because only your hoard, out of all the other hoards from this world to the next, has what we’re interested in,” she said carefully. “Only you ever had the taste to acquire and preserve this thing.”
“Oh?” said the Eldest. Its voice was still suspicious, but its eyes looked less threatened. Nita began to feel a glimmer of hope. “ What might thiss thing be?”
“A book,” Nita said, “ an old book something like this one.”
Kit took a step forward and held up the dark Book for the Eldest to see. This close to its bright counterpart, the dark volume was warping the air and light around it so terribly that its outlines writhed like a fistful of snakes.
The Eldest peered at the dark Book with interest. “Now there is ssomething I don’t have,” it said. “Sssee how it changes. That would be an interessting addition…. What did you ssay you wanted to trade it for?”
“Another Book, Eldest. You came by it some time ago, we hear. It’s close in value to this one. Might be a little less,” Nita added, trying to sound offhand.
The dragon’s eyes brightened like those of a collector about to get the best of a bargain. “Lesss, you say. …Now, sssomeone gave me a book rather like that one, ssome time ago, I forget just who. Let me ssseee…” It turned away from them and began digging again. Nita and Kit stood and watched and tried to be patient while the Eldest pawed through the trash and the treasure, making sounds of possessive affection over everything it touched, mumbling counts and estimating values.
“Wish it’d hurry up,” Kit whispered. “I can’t believe that after we’ve been chased this far, they’re not going to be down here pretty quick! We didn’t have too much trouble getting in—”
“You didn’t open the wall,” Nita muttered back. “Look, I’m still worried about leaving this here.”
“What do you want, for me to carry it all the way home too?” He breathed out, a hiss of annoyance that sounded unnervingly like the Eldest.
Then he rubbed his forearm across his eyes. “This thing burns. Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Nita said, slightly embarrassed. “I just wish there were some way to be sure that you-know-who wouldn’t get his hands on it anytime soon.”
Kit looked thoughtful and opened his mouth to say something. But it was at that moment that the Eldest put its face down into the hole it had been digging and came up again with something bright.
The Book of Night with Moon fell with a thump onto a pile of gold and gems and made them look tawdry, outshone them in a way that seemed to have nothing to do with light. Its cover was the same black leather as that of the dark Book—but as one looked at it, the blackness seemed to gain depth; light seemed hidden in it like a secret in a smiling heart. Even the dim green glow of the firefungus looked healthier now that the Book lay out in it. Where page edges showed, they glittered as if brushed with diamond dust rather than gilding.
The Eldest bent over the bright Book, squinting as if into a great light but refusing to look away. “ Aaaaaahhhh,” it said, a slow, caressing, proprietary sigh. “ Thisss is what you wisshed to trade your book ffor?”
“Yes, Eldest,” Nita said, starting to worry.
The dragon laid its front paws on either side of the Book. “Ffair, it is ssso ffair. I had fforgotten how ssweet it was to look on. …No. No, I will not trade. I will not. Mine, mine…” It nosed the bright Book lovingly.
Nita bit her lip and wondered what in the world to try next. “Eldest,” Kit said from beside her, “ we have something more to trade.”
“Oh?” The dragon looked away from the Book with difficulty and squinted at Kit. “What might that be?”
“Yeah, what?” Nita said silently.
“Sssh!”
“You have got to get out of this shushing-me habit—”
Kit ignored her. “If you will take our book in trade for that one, we’ll work such a wizardry about this place that no thief will ever enter. You’ll be safe here for as long as you please. Or forever.”
“What are you talking about!” Nita said to him silently, completely astonished. “We don’t have the supplies for a major wizardry like that! The only one you could possibly manage would be one of—“
“The blank-check spells, I know. Just let me work here, all right?!”
The Eldest was staring at Kit. “No one would ever come in again to ssteal from me?” it said.
“That’s right.”
Nita watched the dragon’s face as it looked away from Kit, thinking. It was old and tired, and terrified of losing what it had amassed; but now a frightened hope was awakening in its eyes. It looked back at Kit after a few seconds. “You will not come back either? No one will trouble me again?”
“Guaranteed,” Kit said, meaning it.
“Then I will trade. Give me your book, and work your ssspell, and go. Leave me with what is mine.” And it picked up the Book of Night with Moon in its jaws and dropped it off the hoard-hill, not far from Kit’s feet. “Give me, give me!” the Eldest said.
Warily, Nita dropped the shield spell. Kit took a couple of uneasy steps forward and held out the dark Book. The dragon shot its head down, sank teeth into the dark Book, and jerked it out of Kit’s hands so fast that he st
ared at them for a moment as if counting the fingers.
“Mine, mine,” the Eldest hissed as it turned away and started digging at another spot on the hoard, preparing to bury the dark Book. Hurriedly Kit stooped and picked up the Book of Night with Moon.
It was as heavy as the dark Book had been, about the size of an encyclopedia volume, and strange to hold—the depth of the blackness of its covers made it seem as if the holding hands should sink right through. Kit flipped it open as Nita and Fred came up behind to look over his shoulder. But the pages are blank, Fred said, puzzled.
“It needs moonlight,” Kit said.
“Well, this is moonlight.” Nita held up the rowan wand over the opened Book. Very vaguely they could make out something printed, the symbols of the Speech, too faint to read. “Then again, maybe secondhand moonlight isn’t good enough. Kit, what’re you going to do? You have to seal this place up now. You promised!”
“I’m gonna do what I said. One of the blank-check wizardries.”
“But when you do those you don’t know what price is going to be asked later!”
“We have to get this Book, don’t we? That’s why we’re here. And this is something that has to be done to get the Book. I don’t think the price’ll be too high. Anyway, you don’t have to worry, I’ll do it myself.”
Nita watched Kit getting out his wizards’ manual and bit her lip in annoyance. “Oh no you’re not! If you’re doing it, I’m doing it too. Whatever you’re doing…”
“One of the Moebius spells,” Kit said, finding the page.
Nita looked over his shoulder and read the spell. No question, it would certainly keep thieves out of the hoard. When recited, a Moebius spell gave a specified volume of space a half-twist that left it permanently out of synch with the spaces surrounding it. The effect would be like stopping an elevator between floors, forever.
“You read it all through?” Kit asked.
“Uh-huh.”
“Then let’s get back in the tunnel and do it and get out of here. I’m getting this creepy feeling that things aren’t going to be quiet on ground level when we get up there.”
Nita would have said good-bye to the Eldest, but as she turned she saw that it had forgotten them already. “Mine, mine, mine,” it was whispering as garbage and gold flew in all directions from the place where it dug.
Let’s go, Fred said.
Out in the tunnel, the firefungus seemed brighter to Nita—or perhaps that was only the effect of looking at the Book of Night with Moon. They halted at the spot where the tunnel curved and began with great care to read the Moebius spell.
The first part of it was something strange and unsettling—an invocation to the Powers that governed the arts of wizardry, asking help with this piece of work and promising that the power lent would be returned when They required. Nita shivered, wondering what she was getting herself into, for use of the Speech made the promise more of a prediction. Then came the definition of the space to be twisted…and finally the twisting itself.
As they spoke the words Nita could see the Eldest, still digging away at his hoard, going pale and dim as if with distance, going away, though not moving. The words pushed the space farther and farther away, toward an edge that could be sensed more strongly though not seen—and then, suddenly, over it. There was a sense of something falling, falling, falling forever… but never hitting bottom.
And then the spell broke, completed. Nita and Kit and Fred found themselves standing at the edge of a great empty pit, as if someone had reached into the earth and scooped out the subway station, the hoard, and the Eldest, whole. Someone had.
“I think we need to get out of here right now,” Kit said, very quietly.
As if in answer to his words came a long, soft groan of strained timber and metal—the pillars and walls of the tunnel where they stood, and the tunnel on the other side of the pit, now bending and straining under new stresses that the pillars of the station had handled and that these were not meant to. Then came the first clatter and rumble of something falling, both before and behind.
Nita and Kit turned and ran down the tunnel through air filling with dust and crumbled firefungus, stumbling over newly-fallen timbers and picking themselves up and running again. Fred zipped along beside them like a shooting star looking for the right place to fall. Nita and Kit slammed together into the wall at the end of the track as the rumble turned to a thunder and the thunder started catching up behind.
Nita scrabbled with her hands until she found bare concrete, said the Mason’s Word in a gasp, and flung the stone open. Kit jumped through with Fred behind him. The tunnel shook, roared, blew out a stinging, dust-laden wind, and went down in ruin as Nita leaped through the opening and fell to the tracks beside Kit.
He got to his knees slowly, rubbing himself where he had hit. “Boy,” he said, “if we weren’t in trouble with you-know-who before, we are now…”
Hurriedly Kit and Nita got up and the three of them headed for the ledge and the way to the open air.
Major Wizardries: Termination and Recovery
With great caution and a grunt of effort, Kit pushed up the grille at the top of the concrete steps and looked around.
“Oh, brother,” he whispered, “sometimes I hate being right…”
He scrambled up out of the tunnel and onto the sidewalk, with Nita and Fred following right behind. The street was a shambles reminiscent of Fifth and Sixty-second. Corpses of cabs and limousines and even a small truck were scattered around, smashed into lampposts and the fronts of buildings, overturned on the sidewalk. The Lotus Esprit was crouched at guard a few feet away from the grille opening, its engine running in long, tired-sounding gasps. As Kit ran over to it, the Lotus rumbled an urgent greeting and shrugged its doors open.
“They know we’re here,” Nita said as they hurriedly climbed in and buckled up. “They have to know what we’ve done. Everything feels different since the dark Book fell out of this space.”
And they must know we’ll head back for the worldgate, Fred said. Wherever that is now…
“We’ve gotta find it—oof!” Kit said, as the Lotus reared back, slamming its doors shut, and accelerated roaring down the street, around the corner and north again. “Nita, you up for one more spell?”
“Do we have a choice?” She got her manual out of her pack, started thumbing through it. “What I want to know is what we’re supposed to try on whatever they have waiting for us at Grand Central. You-know-who isn’t just going to let us walk in there and leave with the bright Book—”
“We’ll burn that bridge when we come to it.” Kit had his backpack open in his lap and was peeking at the Book of Night with Moon. Even in the sullen dimness that leaked in the Lotus’s windows, the edges of the pages of the Book shone, the black depths of its covers glowed with the promise of light. Kit ran a finger along the upper edge of one cover, and as Nita watched his face settled into a solemn stillness, as if someone spoke and he listened intently.
It was a long moment before the expression broke. Then Kit glanced over at her with a wondering look in his eyes. “It really doesn’t look like that much,” he said. “But it feels— Neets, I don’t think they can hurt us while we have this. Or if they can, it won’t matter much.”
“Maybe not, if we read from it,” Nita said, reading down through the spell that would locate the worldgate for them. “But you remember what Tom said—”
“Yeah.” But there was no concern in Kit’s voice, and he was looking soberly at the Book again.
Nita finished checking the locator spell and settled back in the seat to prepare for it, then started forward again as a spark of heat burned into her neck. “Ow!”
Sorry. Fred slid around from behind her to perch farther forward on her shoulder.
“No problem. Here we go,” Nita said.
She’d hardly even begun reading the imaging spell before a wash of power such as she had never felt seized her and plunged her into the spell headfirst. And the amazing
thing was that she couldn’t even be frightened, for whatever had so suddenly pulled her under and into the magic was utterly benevolent, a huge calm influence that Nita sensed would do her nothing but good, though it might kill her doing it. The power took her, poured itself into her, made the spell part of her. There was no longer any need to work it; it was.
Instantly she saw all Manhattan laid out before her again in shadow outlines, and there was the worldgate, almost drowned in the darkness created by the Starsnuffer, but not hidden to her. The power let her go then, once she was sure of its location, and Nita sat back gasping.
Kit was watching her with a strange expression, and all she could do was nod “yes” at him several times. “I see what you meant,” she said. “The Book—it made the spell happen by itself, almost.”
“Not ‘almost,’“ Kit said. “No wonder you-know-who wants it kept out of the hands of the Senior wizards. It can make even a beginner’s spell happen. It did the same thing with the Moebius spell. If someone wanted to take this place apart—or if someone wanted to make more places like it, and they had the Book—” He gulped. “Look, where’s the gate?”
“Where it should be,” Nita said, finding her breath. “Underground—under Grand Central. But not in the deli, though. It’s down in one of the train tunnels.”
Kit gulped again, harder. “Trains… And you know that place’ll be guarded. Fred, are you up to another diversion?”
Will it get us back to the Sun and the stars again? Try me.
Nita closed her eyes to lean back and take a second’s rest—the power that had run through her for that moment had left her amazingly drained—but nearly jumped out of her skin the next moment as the Lotus braked wildly, fishtailing around a brace of cabs that leaped at it out of a side street. With a scream of engine and a cloud of exhaust and burning rubber it found its traction again and tore out of the intersection and up Third Avenue, leaving the cabs behind.
“They know, they know,” Nita moaned. “Kit, what’re we going to do? Is even the Book going to be enough to stand up to him?”