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Spellsinger 04 - The Moment Of The Magician

Page 7

by Foster, Alan Dean;


  "That doesn't sound very familiar," Jon-Tom re-

  plied slowly. And he'd been so positive!

  "From another world, perhaps, but not necessarily

  yours," Clothahump told him. "Interesting. Not nec-

  essarily dangerous, but interesting."

  "Even if he is from your own world, sir," Pandro

  told Jon-Tom, "1 wouldn't plan on him helping you

  to get back to wherever you're from. From what

  Opiode says, this magician helps no one but himself."

  "Maybe because he's frightened," Jen-Tom suggested.

  "Maybe if by working together, the both of us can

  return home, he'll turn out to be much less threaten-

  ing."

  "If you can get him to leave, regardless of how you

  help yourself, sir, all of Quasequa would be grateful"

  He hesitated. "Opiode did not say as much, but

  there are rumors that this Markus has plans for

  • doing away with the Quorum and installing himself

  as an emperor or king or something. That would be

  a disaster for Quasequa. We have no tradition of

  powerful, single rulers. I think what Opiode the Sly

  is saying is that now is the time to stop the newcomer

  before he can put any evil designs into effect."

  "y he has any such intentions. That may be noth-

  ing more than your employer's paranoia at work."

  'That is something Opiode felt you would sense,

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  58

  sir. He said that you were wise and knowledgeable,

  brave and bold."

  Clothahump removed his glasses, spoke while clean-

  ing them. "Even as a student, I recall this Opiode

  being somewhat of a stickler for accurate descriptions"

  "I wish I could tell you more, sirs, but I am only a

  messenger."

  "You've done better than could have been expected

  of you."

  "So you will send help?" asked Pandro hopefully.

  "Certainly I will."

  "You'll come yourself?"

  "I will send help," Clothahump said firmly. "You

  may convey that message to Opiode. I'm sure he

  expects some sort of reply, and that should cheer

  him. As for specifics, I prefer not to divulge my

  methodology to the hired help."

  "I understand, sir," said Pandro, bowing and

  finishing his stiff drink. He set the glass aside and

  headed for the front door. "Any other messages,

  sir?"

  "Sorbl. Sorbl!" Clothahump yelled. "Never mind.

  I'll do it myself." The door swung inward at the flick

  of his hand. It was a tiny magic, very minor wizardry,

  but it impressed Pandro nonetheless. A good impres-

  sion the raven would carry with him all the way back

  to Quasequa.

  "No, no other message. Tell Opiode if he feels the

  need to convey additional information to me to send

  you back again."

  "Oh, no, sir! He may send more information back

  to you. but I won't be bringing it. I've had enough of

  wizardly goings-on. Humans from other worlds, face-

  less demons, no thank you, sirs! I'll inform him

  you're sending help down to Quasequa and I'm sure-

  he will be heartened by that, but if he wants to thank

  THB MOMENT OF THE MAOJCUUV 89

  you he can do it himself. I've had more than enough

  of such doings. Never again."

  "Don't you mean 'nevermore'?" Jon-Tom asked

  him.

  Pandro eyed him oddly for a moment before bow-

  ing a last time. Then he left, closing the heavy

  wooden door behind him.

  "Hope for the better rather than for the worst,"

  said Jon-Tom after the raven had taken his leave.

  *TU start packing our supplies."

  Clothahump coughed softly. "What do you mean

  *our* supplies, my boy?"

  Jon-Tom hailed in mid-stride. "Now, wait a minute.

  What about all that business about your being

  'courageous, brave, and bold'?"

  "Dear me, is that what he said?" Clothahump was

  studying the ceiling. "I thought certain he said

  'courageous, brave, and old.' Because that is an accu-

  rate description. In any case, I'm certainly not about

  to leave my work here to embark on some long hike

  simply to salve the injured feelings of a deposed

  wizard. As 1 said, this hardly sounds to me like a

  crisis"

  "No crisis, eh? Some evil sorcerer from another

  world throws a colleague of yours out of office and is

  scheming to take over an entire city with who-knows-

  what eventual aims in mind, and you don't call that a

  crisis?"

  "It's not my city, and I'm not the one who's been

  deposed. As for Opiode the Sly's being a colleague.

  I've never worked with him and know of him only by

  reputation."

  / "That's one hell of a cold attitude."

  "I would rather say realistic. However, I did say I

  would send help, and so I shall. You are so con-

  vinced that this Markus the Ineluctable is from your

  world that I wouldn't think of putting off the day of

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  60

  that meeting by so much as an hour. I would only

  slow you down, my boy." He indicated the duar

  Jon-Tbm cradled against his side.

  "You can handle anything that comes before you.

  You now know enough of this land and have mastered

  sufficient of your spellsinging skills to extricate your-

  self from any minor difficulties." He grinned. "Should

  this Markus turn out to be as belligerent as Opiode

  feels, you can always threaten him with a bouquet.'*

  Jen-Torn gave the wizard a sour look. "What would

  I do without your confidence and support?"

  "Oh, I support you, my boy, I support you. Your

  talent is developing nicely. I merely try to keep a

  close watch on the diameter of your head, lest in a

  dangerous moment of overconfidence it grow too

  large.

  "Opiode desires speed in this matter and so do

  you. I would be an encumbrance to you both. I am

  quite confident of your ability to manage this matter

  on your own."

  "What if he's not from my world?" wondered

  Jon-Tom, suddenly thoughtful. "What if he is some

  strange demonic being in human guise? That raven's

  description of his attire and his attitude, those don't

  make him sound much like an old friend from back

  home"

  "Then you must deal with him as the circum-

  stances dictate," the wizard told him firmly. "I can't

  wet-nurse you through maturity."

  "I'm already mature."

  "Then act like it." He winced. "Besides, my arthri-

  tis is acting up."

  "Funny how your arthritis always seems to act up

  whenever there's a long journey to be taken."

  "Yes, it is peculiar, isn't it?" Clothahump admitted

  without batting an eye. He lumbered toward his

  bedroom, peered through the doorway. "Ah! Sorbl

  THE MOMENT Of THK XAOICIAW 61

  has excavated my bed. I can hear him shearing away

  in there. Presumably he is not so drunk that he has

  cut off either of his wings." He raised his voice
.

  "Sorbll How are you managing in there, you useless

  befeathered sot?"

  "I am tired. Master," came the faint reply from

  somewhere deep within the thorny brambles. "These

  vines are tough." A pause, then, "Can't you just

  magic them away?"

  "Perhaps I could, but I did not acquire an appren-

  tice so that I might engage in menial labor. Besides,

  a little exercise is good for the system, especially

  when that system is overloaded with ethyl molecules."

  "With what. Master?"

  "Liquorish magical symbols."

  "Not me, Masteri I would never—I"

  Clothahump closed the door to the rosebush-ridden

  bedroom, shutting off Sorbl's too-emphatic protesta-

  tions of innocence. He turned back to jon-Tom,

  peered up at him over steepled lingers.

  "Opiode has a reputation for exaggeration, my

  boy, and all salamanders are notoriously paranoid. I

  know that you will enjoy the journey to Quasequa. It

  will be a long but pleasant trip. The city itself is

  rumored to be most beautiful, constructed on a

  series of islands out in the middle of a body of water

  called the Lake of Sorrowful Pearls. If 1 were a hun-

  dred years younger, I would not hesitate to accompa-

  ny you."

  jon-Tbm was nodding knowingly. "Sounds delightful.

  In fact, it sounds a lot like our recent relaxing

  vacation jaunt to distant Snarken."

  Clothahump shifted his eyes away from the tall

  youth- "Ah, any excursion can be dogged by unforeseen

  bad luck." He cleared his throat self-consciously. "This

  time you will encounter no oceans to cross, no mo-

  rose moors to traverse. Merely shallow tropical lakes

  03 Alan Dean Footer

  and lagoons, such as the one on which Quasequa

  itself is constructed. A land of moderate tempera-

  tures and quiet beauty. A veritable paradise com-

  pared to these cold Bellwoods. Often's the time I've

  thought of traveling there with an eye toward retir-

  ing in such a place."

  "You'll never retire. You like your reputation too

  much."

  "No, 1 mean it, my boy. Someday I will consider

  it seriously. Perhaps when I turn three hundred."

  "When you hit three hundred 1 hope I won't be

  around to see it."

  "Yes, your unquenchable desire to return home.

  Perhaps this Markus the Ineluctable will turn out to

  be helpful."

  "You're just trying to make me feel better about

  going off without you, but you're right. I'd go

  anywhere, under any conditions, if I thought there

  was a chance I could get a little closer to home."

  "And what of Opiode's concerns?"

  "Maybe he exaggerates, just like you say. If this

  Markus is from my own world, I'm sure that if the

  two of us can get together and chat for a while, he'll

  be as happy to see me as I will be to see him, and we

  can work something out"

  "And if he's not of your world, and Opiode does

  not exaggerate?"

  Jen-Tom took a deep breath. "In that case, I've got

  my duar. If it comes to a battle of sorceral skills, I

  think I can handle anything." Except my own mistakes,

  he added silently to himself-

  "Good for you, my boy! That's the spirit! Main-

  tain that attitude and I'm sure you'll have things in

  Quasequa sorted out in no time."

  Jon-Tom looked uncertain. "There is one drawback.

  I can't make a journey like that all by myself. Oh, I

  understand if you don't feel up to coming along or

  TBK MOMENT Of THK SSAQSCZAM

  63

  don't feel it's necessary, or whatever. But I won't risk

  a trip like this all by my lonesome. I know that flier

  wouldn't have guided me. Not his job, and fliers get

  bored having to hang back with us land-bound types.

  That much I've learned. What about making use of

  public transportation systems along the way?"

  "A good thought, except that there aren't any, my

  boy. There is no commerce between the Bellwoods

  towns and Quasequa. All trade from Lynchbany and

  Timswitty and the like goes to the Glittergeist Sea or

  Polastrindu."

  "Then I'd like to have an old buddy accompany

  me."

  Clothahump shook his head sadly. "I wonder that

  your choice of company does not otherwise mirror

  your normal good taste."

  "1 Just feel comfortable with Mudge around. He's

  clever with words, knows the customs and ins and

  outs, is good with weapons, and is reasonably trust-

  worthy so long as I keep an eye on him round the

  dock and don't let him get his paws on the expense

  money."

  Clothahump shrugged beneath his shell. "It's your

  neck, my boy. You choose your own companions."

  Jon-Tom frowned. "The only problem is, I haven't

  the slightest idea where he's to be found. Last time I

  had to track him all the way up to Timswitty. Since

  Quasequa lies in the other direction, I'd lose a lot of

  time if I had to hunt through the Bellwoods in..

  search of him." He Finished on a hopeful note-

  "I agree. And don't give me that innocent-apprentice

  look. It doesn't have the slightest effect on me.

  However, if you will insist on having him with you..."

  "1 wouldn't insist," Jon-Tom said quickly. "It would

  Just make me a lot more confident about the whole

  business."

  "Very well, very well. I will see what I can do. I will

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  64

  attempt to locate him and explain that he is wanted

  here.

  "As for yourself, you'd best begin preparing for

  the journey. Fill your backpack with care, make cer-

  tain you have ample spare strings for your duar, and

  try to get a good night's sleep. 1 will be able to

  discuss this matter of your 'friend' with more certainty

  tomorrow rooming."

  "How long do you think it will take for you to

  locate him and give him the message?"

  "We will just have to wait and see, my boy. We will

  have to wait and see."

  Jen-Tom arose the next morning still excited by

  the prospect of meeting someone else from home,

  someone who might be able to help him get back

  where he belonged. It wasn't that Clothahump hadn't

  been good to him- In his own distinctive, demanding

  fashion, the wizard had gone out of his way to make

  the displaced human feel welcome.

  Nor had his sojourn in this land. been uneventful.

  Quite the contrary. But he was more than ready to

  return to the calm, familiar life of an anxiety-ridden

  pre-law student in Weslwood, CA.

  He washed his hands and face in the wooden basin

  that grew from one of the tree's inner walls, wonder-

  ing not for the first time what kind of intricate

  magical spell could provide indoor plumbing within

  the dimensionally expanded trunk of an oak. After

  drying himself and dressing carefully, he went through

  the contents of his
backpack.

  It held jerked meat, dried fruit and nuts, a selec-

  tion of medicinal herbs and potions, a small metal

  box holding the few Band-Aids and pills he'd had on

  his person when he'd been sucked into this world, a

  change of underclothing, and a small assortment of

  toiletry items and personal effects. Packed to bursting,

  it was heavier than it had been when he'd set out on

  Ttffi StOUKHT W THE MAGICIAN

  65

  a previous journey to distant Snarken. On that trip

  Clolhahump had informed him he would encounter

  towns and villages in which to purchase food and

  other necessities. The land between here and Quase-

  qua, however benign, was apparently a good deal

  less urbanized.

  That meant living more off the land. Well, he'd

  always enjoyed camping out, and if Clothahump's

  description of the country south of the river Tailaroam

  was accurate, it should be a relaxing experience-

  First breakfast, then he'd ask if the wizard had

  succeeded in locating Mudge. Probably he'd have to

  meet the otter somewhere. A couple of quick hellos,

  and off they'd go, traveling at a brisk but unhurried

  pace southward, enjoying the clear weather while

  reminiscing about—

  A terrible scream split this image and pushed

  everything else into the background. It pierced the

  thick walls of living wood. was followed by a second

  and third. Each howl was more horrible than its

  predecessor. Jon-Tom's skin prickled.

  His first thought was that Markus the Ineluctable

  was everything Opiode feared and more, and that

  he'd somehow tracked the course of Pandro the

  raven and had sent his faceless demons to do away

  with any potential allies the flier might have made

  contact with. Jon-Tom grabbed his ramwood staff

  and rushed for the next rooms.

  He flicked the concealed switch in the wooden

  shaft, and six inches of sharp steel emerged from the

  base of the staff. If only he wasn't too late and

  whatever had entered the tree hadn't gotten ahold of

  Clothahumpi The screams continued, but their inten-

  sity had fallen somewhat. They seemed to be coming

  from the vicinity of the kitchen. He turned down a

  narrow hall, keeping his head low, and bounced off a

  Alafi Dean Porter

  66

  wall, then skidded to a halt just inside the dining

  area.

  Clothahump sat in his reinforced chair next to the

  table that grew out of the floor. He was spooning

  ground fish and water plant from a steaming bowl.

 

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