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Spellsinger 04 - The Moment Of The Magician

Page 30

by Foster, Alan Dean;


  be that this is such a place, long abandoned and only

  recently rediscovered."

  "Damn!" Mudge shouted abruptly.

  "What is it, what's wrong?" Jon-Tom asked him-

  "Tripped over somethin', mate." He fumbled a bit

  in the darkness, lifted something for all of them to

  feel. jon-Tom identified it immediately. It was a

  primate skull.

  Opiode took it from Mudge and they could see his

  hands moving over the bone. "Cracked when the

  owner was thrown from above," he announced. Eyes

  immediately went to that distant circle of light.

  It was quiet for a moment. Then Sasswise said,

  "Come on then, you lazy lot. Let's see *ow big this 'ole

  is. Maybe there's another way in."

  Everyone fanned out and began feeling along the

  wall. Climbing was out of the question, even for the

  agile otters. The damp stones arched to form a

  dome overhead. Only Opiode might have been able

  to manage it, in his younger days. Now he did not

  have the strength to cling to such a slick overhang.

  "Got an idea," said Mudge. "Let's make a pyramid."

  The otters discussed the proposal briefly, then

  settled themselves in the center of the chamber and

  proceeded to put. on an astonishing display of

  acrobatics- They managed to stack themselves four

  high, but Splitch was still yards shy of the point

  where the vertical shaft of the well broadened out to

  form the curved ceiling.

  The pyramid was collapsed and the otters brushed

  themselves off. "Wouldn't 'ave mattered if I could've

  reached the bottom," Spiitch told them- "The shaft's

  as slick as a snowslide, and there ain't a 'and'old in

  sight. She's too wide to bridge." She eyed Jon-Tom

  thoughtfully. "You're long enough to do it, Jonny-

  Tom, but we've no way to get you up there."

  THE MOMENT OF THE MAOICIAM

  269

  "We had best find some way out," said Opiode.

  This skul! is fresh." Everyone shuffled about uneasily.

  "Doesn't mean a lot," said Domurmur. "One of

  Markus's latest victims, no doubt."

  "No doubt," agreed Opiode readily. "The question

  is, if the victinvis a recent one, who or what has so

  efficiently removed the flesh from the bone?" Faint

  light glinted off his bulging eyes as he searched the

  darkness.

  "If I only had my duar," Jon-Tom was muttering.

  "I might be able to sing up a ladder or rope or

  something. If only we—"

  '. He was interrupted by noise from above. Voices,

  and the blare of ceremonial trumpets.

  "Everyone, get back from the opening and keep

  quiet!'* Opiode ordered them. They spread out quickly.

  Sounds of a scuffle overhead, another blare of

  trumpets, and then a horrible high-pitched scream

  - that increased rapidly in volume. It stopped abruptly

  t when something struck the stone floor with a wet,

  sickening thud. The object bounced once and then

  lay still.

  The sounds from above went away. Jon-Tom leaned

  cautiously into the light and saw nothing. Slowly, the

  refugees gathered around the thing that had been

  'thrown down the well.

  It was a small macaque, no more than four feet

  tall. A torn white lace ruffle ringed the neck above a

  green-and-blue jersey which was tucked into dark

  green shorts of bright snakeskin- Gold embroidery

  decorated the sleeves, and a belt of thin gold links

  circled the narrow waist-

  The neck was twisted at an unnatural angle. One

  arm lay bent straight up behind the spine. Open eyes

  stared toward the well.

  "Died instantly," commented .Opiode softly. "Neck

  broke when he hit. Poor fellow."

  270 Aim Dean foster

  Cascuyom pushed his way to the fore. "1 know

  him. That is the honorable Jestutia."

  "Yes, I know him also." Selryndi bent over the

  body. '"One of our most respected citizens." He^ glanced

  up toward the top of the shaft. "Markus must be

  feeling very confident, to begin murdering such promi-

  nent individuals."

  "Quiet, be quiet!" That was Mudge, snapping at

  them from somewhere far off to the left.

  "Listen, otter, one of our colleagues and friends

  has just been foully slain, and I see no reason to—"

  "Shut up, nut-eater, or I'll stuff that tail of yours

  down your throat," His voice dropped an octave.

  "There's somethin' else in 'ere with us."

  A chill raced down jon-Tom's back. Something

  had removed the meat from that first skull. "Mudge,

  we checked out..."

  "There's another tunnel over 'ere, mates. A big

  one. And there's somethin' in it, and I think *tis

  startin' to move."

  "You are trying to frighten us," Selryndi said

  nervously.

  "Oh, why sure, now, that's it, guv'nor," said Mudge

  sarcastically. "I've got nothin' better to do than make

  up scary stories, right?" He rejoined them and put a

  hand on the squirrel's back. " 'Ow about you go and

  'ave a looksee over there, guv, and prove me out 10

  be the liar you say I am." Selryndi's feet dug into the

  floor.

  "Listen, all of you," Memaw urged them- Mudge

  and Selryndi quit squabbling as something scraped

  against distant stones. This was followed by a heavy

  wheeze. Wind from another tunnel, Jon-Tbm thought-

  Or something waking up.

  Unconsciously, everyone retreated toward the drain-

  age tunnel. "What do the old legends say about

  this?" Jon-Tom asked the wizard.

  THB MOMENT OF THE MAG/CMN 271

  "Nothing," came Opiode's whispered reply. "There

  is not supposed to be anything down here. This is

  the place of the dead."

  Chunk! Gravel shifted underfoot, followed by a vast

  exhaling and an odor like burning charcoal. Quoriy

  clung to Miidge's arm.

  "Tis comin' this way!"

  "Stay still, don't let it know we're afraid," Mudge

  told her, trying to edge behind Memaw and Sasswise.

  Optode raised a hand and muttered something

  under his breath, but it had no effect on whatever

  shared the chamber with them. It was moving nearer.

  "It is no use- I am still constrained from working

  magic by the spell Markus laid upon me. 1 cannot

  break free."

  "Get ready to run for the tunnel," Memaw told

  them. It lay close at hand, but it would take time for

  all of them to crowd inside the narrow opening, and

  a sudden rush ran the risk of stirring to action

  whatever was coming toward them.

  There was a brief explosion of flame in the darkness,

  accompanied by a thick acrid smell. Then a low

  growl, rich and throaty.

  "Try singin' somethin*, matel" Mudge urged Jon-

  Tom.

  "But 1 haven't got the duar."

  "Try anyway, mate. Try somethin'l"

  "Sasswise," said Memaw, "you, Flutz, and I will try

  to divert its attention while the others file into the

  tunne
l. The rest of you prepare yourselves." The

  otters scrambled to salvage old bones, rocks, any-

  thing that might be used as a weapon.

  Jon-Tom began to sing. He had no plan in mind,

  no brilliant ideas, and he was certain the magic

  wouldn't happen without the duar's music, but he

  had to try. If nothing else, it might concentrate the

  thing's attention on him while the others fled into

  Alan Dean Porter

  272

  the tunnel. The first notes trembled, but his voice

  steadied as he sang on. He could hear his companions

  rushing for the tunnel entrance,

  An immense outline turned toward him -.. and

  hesitated. Mudge called out to him.

  "That's it, mate! Keep singin'. 'Tis workin!"

  It couldn't be, Jon-Tom thought. There was no

  magic without the duar, none, no way! It couldn't be

  working.

  Yet there was no question of it: the thing had

  halted in its leisurely approach,

  A thunderous whisper filled the chamber then.

  "Jon-Tom."

  "Blimey," muttered Splitch, "it knows 'im!"

  "It knows the spellsinger," Opiode observed aloud.

  "Spellsinger," the voice echoed in the darkness.

  Jon-Tom squinted, trying to see in the poor light

  as he took a reluctant step forward.

  A blast of fire erupted over his head- Screams

  came from the otters and the Quorum members as

  they rushed in panic for the tunnel, running into

  each other and stumbling over the bones on the

  floor. But Jon-Tom didn't move. The fire had passed

  over him. Nor had it been directed at any of his

  companions. It had been aimed ceilmgward, to gen-

  erate light and not destruction.

  The instant of brilliant illumination hurt his eyes,

  but not so badly that he couldn't recognize its source.

  "Comrade Falameezar," he asked hesitantly, "is that

  you?"

  XVI

  A great clawed hand descended and picked Jon-Tom

  off the floor. He could feel the thick, leathery mem-

  brane that ran between the fingers. The hand lifted

  him until it paused in front of a mouth full of

  curving teeth. A single puff could incinerate him in

  a second, sizzle his bones and melt his flesh. There

  was heat and the smell of brimstone, but no hint of

  cremation.

  "It is you, Falameezar! I'll be damned."

  "We are all damned, comrade Jon-Tom," said the

  dragon somberly. "What are you doing here?"

  Jon-Tom sat down on the slick, scaly palm and

  turned to his triends. "It's okay. He's a friend. This is

  comrade Falameezar, a good proletarian."

  "What is the man talking about?" Memaw asked

  Mudge.

  The otter strode boldly out into the chamber. "We

  know this bloke, we do, 'E 'elped us once before, on

  our way to Polastrindu. Though wot 'e's doin' 'ere I'll

  be buggered if I know." He looked back into the

  tunnel, which was filled with anxious faces. "Everyone,

  'tis all right. You can come out. Only," he added

  more quietly, "wotever you do, don't say anythin'

  about makin' money." He fought to recall some of

  273

  Alan Dean Poster

  274

  the confusing but effective conversations Jon-Tom

  had held with the river dragon as it had carried

  them up the river Tailaroam toward far Polastrindu

  not so very long ago. The dragon was. - - what had

  Jon-Tom called it?... a Marked Met. No, something

  more compact. Marxist, yeah, that was it. The drag-

  on was a Marxist, whatever that was.

  But he was certainly sensitive about it. Dedicated,

  Jon-Tbm had called him. Mudge knew better. The

  dragon was nuts.

  He spoke to his friends as they hesitantly emerged

  from hiding. "Just act collective," he told them.

  "What does that mean?" Memaw asked him.

  " 'Ow the 'ell do I know? Just make sure everybody

  does it."

  Jon-Tbm was patting the dragon on the snout.

  "Comrade Falameezar, it appears we are to be com-

  panions in misfortune."

  "So it would seem." The dragon set him down

  gently, then looked around and opened his mouth.

  Another blast of flame spewed forth. The members

  of the Quorum cowered against the nearest wall. but

  Opiode and the otters edged forward.

  Falameezar's well-aimed blast set a huge pile of

  debris on fire. It burned fitfully at best but provided

  enough light for everyone to see ctearly for the first

  time since they'd fled from their cell. They gathered

  around while the dragon lay down on his belly, crossed

  his arms, and rested his head against them.

  "How did you get here?" Jon-Tom asked him.

  "I wasn't having much luck trying to raise the

  consciousness of the masses who live on the shores of

  the Tailaroam," the dragon explained, "so 1 deter-

  mined to try to find a group of the oppressed who

  were more receptive.

  "I'd heard much of this land, where the lakes are

  large and the fish plentiful. So I made my way here

  TffB MOJttEiVT OF TaE MAOICIAS

  275

  and, surely enough, found the workers badly in need

  of organizing." He sighed and a puff of smoke drifted

  ceilingward. "But as so often seems to happen, the

  people here were reluctant to listen to me"

  "Can't imagine why," Quorly whispered.

  "So I decideokthis time to try to convert the heads

  of state instead of the people."

  "Uh-oh," said Jon-Tom.

  "Precisely, comrade. 1 allowed myself to be de-

  ceived by the honeyed words of the local ruler, a

  strange human very different from yourself."

  "Markus the Ineluctable."

  "Yes. I did not know at first that he had deposed

  the rightful rulers of this place, nor that he was a

  powerful magician as well as a disgusting fascist

  whose only aim is the exploitation of the masses for

  personal gain. But by the time I learned all this he

  had rendered me sleepy. I vaguely remember being

  brought to the large room above. The floor was

  removed and I was dropped down here, and then

  walled up.

  "I've tried to break out but the stone is solid and

  thick. It will not burn. So here I have remained,

  trapped by this evil imperialist. He does feed me

  well. though. The trumpet calls me when a meal is

  ready." Falameezar moved his head and sniffed at the

  body of Jestutia. "A banker this time. Markus is

  clever. He has learned that I will only eat capitalists."

  "I'm surprised at you." Jon-Tom said accusingly.

  "Even a banker can be converted to the cause of the

  people."

  "Not if he's dead." The dragon sniffed again. "Yes,

  a dead banker. I'm sure of it- I hate bankers, you

  know. Filthy robber-barons."

  Near the back wall Newmadeen was hurriedly

  going through her pockets. Like the recently de-

  ceased macaque, she was also in the business of

  Alan Dean Poster

 
276

  lending money. Until now she'd never had reason to

  regret it. Fortunately, Falameezar was too involved in

  conversation with his newfound friends to do any

  serious sniffing, and she was able to unburden her-

  self of money, notes, and assorted usurious I.O.U.'s.

  "Besides," he was saying, "a dragon has to eat." He

  extended his long neck and snapped up the unfortu-

  nate Jestutia in a single bite, chewed noisily.

  " *Ere now," murmured Sasswise, looking at New-

  madeen, "this one's gone and fainted."

  Falameezar noticed it, too, sniffed curiously as he

  chewed. "What's wrong with your companion? If I

  didn't know better I'd ..."

  Jon-Tom hurried to distract the dragon. "It's the

  air down here. These are the legitimate rulers of

  Quasequa, by the way. They have no more love for

  Markus than you. They constitute the legitimate, uh,

  soviet that the magician has deposed."

  "I did not realize that this government was so

  advanced," Falameezar replied in surprise.

  "They're working on it," Jon-Tom assured him.

  "Aren't you?"

  "Yes, yes, yes!" The conscious members of the

  Quorum managed to reply with enthusiasm, if a bit

  too quickly.

  Falameezar looked pleased. "It is good to have

  right-thinking company in such sad circumstances-

  As it is good to see my old comrade again. You, too,

  Mudge. even if you did express the occasional reac-

  tionary thought." The otter allowed himself to be

  stroked by a single swordlike talon.

  "If only I could get ahold of my duar," Jon-Tom

  mumbled. "Markus hasn't placed any anti-magic spells

  on me."

  "That is so,'* admitted Opiode. "I would have

  sensed it if he had."

  TUB MOMEATT Or THE MAGICIAM 277

  "Then there's only one thing left to try." He started

  toward the tunnel. "I have to go back to our cell."

  "You're jokin', mate." '

  "No, Mudge. It's the only .way. I've got an idea.

  Mudge, will you and Quorly come back with me?"

  "Count on me, Jenny-Tom," she replied. Her ready

  agreement made Mudge's acquiescence a foregone

  conclusion.

  "I'll be back in a little while, Falameezar"

  "Good luck, comrade."

  "Just a minute." Men-law stepped in front of Jon-

  Tom as he bent to enter the tunnel. She looked

  significantly past him. "What do we talk about with

  the dragon?"

  "Anything you can think of. He likes to chat- The

  last weather we saw outside, jokes... Falameezar's

  great with jokes. Simple things. Just make sure no-

 

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