“I did not realize,” said Purple, “that my flying egg was moving. You had painted thick gray goo over all the knobs and dials, so that I could see none of the settings on my —” he hesitated, then used the word, “— spellmakers.” The loss of his speakerspell must have taught him to think his words out more carefully.
To his own villagers, Purple explained, “Somehow they had gained entrance to my flying egg — which I have told you about — and done terrible things to it.” To us, he continued, “I was furious, Lant. I would have killed the pack of you.”
I shuddered. He still might. In fact, what was he waiting for?
“Later,” he continued, “I realized that you had acted from ignorance. Perhaps you thought that the egg was alive and dangerous. Perhaps that was the reason for Shoogar’s earlier attacks on me. I wanted to know why, why you had dirtied and broken implements in my flying home.”
“Unfortunately, I did not realize how badly you had damaged it. There is a spell in any flying device that compensates for sudden, sharp motion. It also compensates for the lack of a world underfoot. Well, I did not know that I was in the air. The windows had been painted gray, the screens likewise, the dials had all been tampered with.
“When I opened the door to go looking for you, the wind of my passage picked me up and sucked me out. When I realized I was falling, I pulled my hood up and curled in a ball. My impact suit saved me by holding my shape — much as water in a vase does not change shape when you set it down hard.”
“I wish the vase had broken,” muttered Shoogar.
“The fall knocked me out,” continued Purple, “but I broke no bones. But I saw very little of the landscape coming down. I still don’t know just where here is — my flying egg does not respond to my signals. It has not answered me for months. I fear it may be beyond my scope.”
“True enough,” I answered. “Shoogar’s spells entirely destroyed it. It was over the mountain called Critics Tooth when Elcin’s hammer struck it.”
“Elcin?”
“The small, but mighty, god of thunder.”
“Ah, yes. I know him. You say he struck my egg?”
“He struck it with a great flash, and a sound loud enough to shake the world and shatter the sky. I could neither hear nor see for many moments afterward.”
Purple made an odd strangled sound. Tell me, Lant, does the ground glow blue at night now?”
“In the old village, yes. And all the trees and grass have died. Villagers and animals as well. Look, Pilg and Ang have lost their fur, and Pilg is covered with sores.”
Purple looked, he stepped closer; Pilg, brave man that he was, did not shrink from Purple’s feverish examination. Both their faces were pale. “It’s true,” Purple murmured, “I am marooned.” He used a word from his own demon’s tongue. “Those are radiation sores.
“Radiation sores,” he repeated. “You blew up the pile,” He was trailing off into gibberish in his excitement. He looked blindly around. “You hairy half-humans have smashed my flying machine. I’ll be lost here forever! Curse you, curse you all —”
We all shrank back, even Purple’s own villagers. He was being too free with his curses. But Gortik and several of his Advisors stepped forward to comfort Purple. There, there,” they murmured, patting his shoulders with visible reluctance.
“Let me alone!” Purple cried, jerking loose from the hands that held him. He collided with Pilg who still stood forward baring his naked and festering chest. Purple hesitated.
“Can you cure me?” asked Pilg with a quaver.
Purple looked at Pilg’s disease-ridden body as if for the first time, he looked into his eyes, then he stepped forward and took Pilg by the shoulders. “Oh, my friend, my friend, my poor dear friend.” He released the shaken Pilg and turned to the rest of us. “My friends, all of you —”
Again we shrank back. There was not a man in two villages who wanted to be the friend of a raving, hairless madman.
“My friends, I need you more than ever now. I have lost a major source of my power. My flying egg has been destroyed. All the wonderful things I said I would do for you when I recovered it, I can never do now.”
At that Shoogar straightened a bit. “And I did it,” he reminded us. There was a hint of pride in his voice. He was the only one smiling.
“And you did it,” Purple echoed, in such a way that two Advisors stepped up to take his arms.
Gortik glanced at me, at Purple, at Shoogar. He must have been thinking furiously. He had thought his magician better than ours; but now Purple had admitted to being hurt, and hurt badly, by Shoogar’s dueling spells. Obviously both magicians were powers to be reckoned with.
How they must hate each other! It boded not well for either village.
Gortik, the Speaker, drew me aside. “I think we had best break up this meeting.”
“Before our magicians do it for us,” I agreed.
“You take yours back to your encampment, we will return ours to his nest. You and I will meet later, privately, to discuss this situation. If either of our villages is to survive, there is much that we will have to work out.”
I nodded immediately. How much longer would Shoogar restrain himself? We had to get away from Purple’s own dueling ground as fast as we could. I waved my hands frantically at my Advisors. “Let’s go, let’s go.” All I wanted was to put as much distance between Shoogar and Purple as possible.
We hurried back up the slope. One thought was uppermost: we were trapped on an island with two mad magicians — Elcin’s Wrath — what had we done to deserve such a fate? Could we have possibly angered the Gods that much?
It did not take long for the word to spread. The wave of dismay was a visible thing as it washed across the encampment. Women began wailing, strong men trembled, children bawled in confusion. Dogs barked.
Many began tugging at their tent ropes, pulling them down. Exhausted as they were, they were ready to move on, so great was their fear of Purple.
Incredible! — that these few pitiful families had once been a strong and fruitful village. Yet so we had been before the coming of Purple. We had seen that village reduced to rubble, seen our friends and neighbours dead, and our property obliterated because of the feud between Shoogar and the mad magician.
And the duel was not yet over.
Purple still lived. He had followed us, and he would destroy us.
No. He had flown here in a single night. For a quarter of a cycle, he had been waiting for our arrival!
Shoogar was unapproachable. That Purple still lived, was indication of his failure. He had cast his finest spell, and the other held not even a grudge. Angrily, Shoogar shook off his two escorts and stamped off across the already sea-dampened field. The crowd parted before him like goats from a pool of defiled water. Anxious mothers herded their children safely out of sight.
All over the camp tents were falling now as the word spread. The people were ready to flee; they did not know where they would go, but they were willing to die trying, so great was their fear of Purple.
Here and there, sobbing women were loading their packs. Children tugged at their skirts. Many of the men I passed were putting extra sets of hobbles on their wives — there is no telling what a hysterical woman will do.
Several members of the Guild of Advisors were standing and arguing. They broke apart when they saw me. “Ah, Lant, we were just discussing whether to go east or south — or perhaps west, into the hills —”
“What foolishness are you babbling, Pilg?”
“The journey, the journey — we cannot possibly stay here?”
“We cannot possibly go anywhere else — unless you have learned how to walk on water —”
“This is not the only spot on the island, Lant,” said Hinc. “You heard Gortik. There are others.”
“You heard him too,” I snapped back. “This is a small island. Four villages and the Heights of Idiocy.”
Hinc shrugged, “If we must flee to the Heights, then so be i
t. We can be a renegade tribe, moving by night —”
“That way we’ll have every village on the island after our necks.”
“We have no choice. Shoogar is going to start a duel!”
“Has Shoogar said so?”
“Hah! We don’t need to talk to Shoogar to know he’s planning a duel — he’s sworn to kill Purple, remember?”
“Now, listen,” I said, “you are making foolish conclusions. This is what we are going to do. First, there is not going to be a duel. Second, I am going back to the lower village and dicker privately with Gortik. I am going to try to stick to our original plan of trading our services for their food and land. It is the only way.”
“Hah!” snorted Hinc. “Do you think you can stop Shoogar from planning a duel?”
“I am the Speaker now,” I said. “That gives me the authority —”
“Just a minute, Lant.” Hinc said. “When we let you be Speaker, it was only to talk to the villagers down below. We had no intention of letting you — only a bonemonger — assume any of the other rights and privileges of Speaker.”
There was a murmur of agreement from the others.
“You are right, of course, Hinc. And I did not want to be Speaker in the first place. But you insisted — you were one of the loudest — and now that you have taken me as your Speaker in dealings with other men, you must also accept the fact that I represent you in your dealings with the Gods.”
“Huh?”
“Well, think about it. Obviously, we are being tested by them. This set of tribulations that has been thrust upon us is nothing more than a test of our faith and our worship. The Gods wish to see if we will continue to believe in them despite our troubles and pray to them for relief, or if instead we will forsake them in our despair.”
“What does that have to do with whether or not you should be allowed to give orders?” demanded Hinc’s half-brother, Lesser Hinc. They shared the same father, of course, but were of different mothers.
I fixed him with my best angry stare. “Certainly it should be obvious, even to a frog brain like you! If you deny the traditions and the ancient ways, you are denying the Gods themselves. Our whole way of life is based upon the whims of the Gods we serve. Only a magician can control the Gods, and only the village speaker can control the village magician. Shoogar engraves his secret name into the Speaking Token, so that only the owner of that token has power over him.
“But you don’t have a token,” Lesser Hinc said.
“Right!” snapped Greater Hinc. “We owe you nothing! Come, let’s go.” They started to turn away. “We can choose another Speaker. Shoogar can just as easily make a token for him.”
“Wait!” I cried. I had to think fast. “You have forgotten one thing.”
There was something about my tone. They stopped. “You have forgotten about Gortik, the Speaker of the new village. He does not know how new I am to the art of Speaking — as far as he is concerned, I am as experienced as he. But if you introduce another man to him as your Speaker, he will know just how inexperienced that man is — and he will wonder why you have elected a new Speaker at such a crucial time for the village. All of the villages on this island would be able to take advantage of us, knowing that they were dealing with an unskilled Speaker.”
They muttered among themselves. They moved a bit away and discussed the subject heatedly. “Better no Speaker than —” “But there is this new village —”“We don’t need another inept Speaker —” “But we are already committed to —”
“And there is one more thing,” I called. They paused, looked over at me. There is Shoogar. How do you think he will react when you tell him that his best friend is no longer Speaker? Is there one among you who thinks he can control an angry magician?”
There wasn’t. They looked at each other warily. At last, Hinc nodded his assent, and the others nodded with him. “All right, Lant — you win. Next time we will be more careful who we push forward.”
“It certainly won’t be anyone with such a fast tongue,” muttered Lesser Hinc.
“Let’s just hope he can use it against Gortik,” said Snarg.
“Don’t worry,” said Greater Hinc. “If he can’t, we can always strangle him with it.”
“I am more concerned that he use it on Shoogar,” babbled Pilg. “And quickly. He is probably planning a duel right this minute.”
“Nonsense,” I said, “he can’t be planning a duel! It’s the darkless season. There are no moons.”
“Oh, you know your seasons well enough, Lant — but I don’t think you know Shoogar.”
“I am a bonemonger,” I said with dignity. “I have to have a good layman’s grasp of magic to make bone implements. Believe me, Shoogar cannot possibly be planning a duel.”
Shoogar was alone with his shelter and his bicycle. I found him staring up into the sky and muttering to himself. “Goat kidneys, frog follicles, ant feathers — why did this have to come during the darkless season?”
“Shoogar,” I said. “What is the matter?”
“The sky, you idiot — the sky!”
“I am not an idiot. I am the Speaker now.”
“Being a Speaker does not preclude you from being an idiot,” he snapped. His eyes were watery-red from peering so long into the sun. “If only it weren’t for that god-cursed sky!”
“What is the matter with the sky?”
“I can’t see the moons,” He stood and gestured, “Elcin’s Wrath! How can I know what the configurations are if I can’t see the moons? Red day, blue day, red day, and no darkness ever. I’ve stared and stared —”
A dreadful certainty was stealing over me. “Shoogar, what are you doing?”
“I’m trying to plan a duel.”
“Gods protect us, Lant! How can I even hope to defend myself if I can’t see what the configurations are?”
“It is unfortunate,” I agreed. Virn knows how I managed to keep my voice steady. “But perhaps it is also auspicious.”
“Auspicious?” He whirled on me. “Auspicious? How can it be auspicious? How can I plan a duel when all the auspices are hidden?”
“Maybe,” I said carefully. “Maybe, it’s a sign that you shouldn’t duel.”
“Shouldn’t duel? — Are you mad? Lant the Speaker!” he mocked, “he only knows how to speak in circles.”
“I am not speaking in circles,” I said firmly. “I mean that for once you won’t be able to depend on your magic for an easy solution. Perhaps, for a change, you will have to think out the wisest course of action instead of just rashly casting a spell with dangerous side effects. Remember, whatever you do, we won’t be able to flee the side effects of it until the waters recede.”
“Are you questioning my magic?” He peered at me, narrow-eyed.
“Me? Never! I am your staunchest supporter — but you have to admit, Shoogar, you do sometimes use your magic in situations where a little diplomacy might be better. You are too hasty to cast spells before you know how they will work out —”
“How else will I find out how they work??” he snapped.
I ignored the interruption. “You must admit, Shoogar, that my skill with words is better than yours.”
“Yes,” he said. “You use more of them than I do. You should be better.”
“Be that as it may — if you don’t know how the moons are positioned, then you are unable to cast any kind of moon-dependent spell. Instead, you must depend on me, as Speaker, to avoid situations where your magic will be needed.”
“It’s too late, Lant. We’re already in a situation where my magic is necessary. I have to protect us from Purple. Obviously, he’s going to try to kill me — and you — and the rest of the villagers! If only to retrieve these!” He held aloft the trophy that he had picked up when he vanquished the black egg: Purple’s quartz lenses, their black bone frame glistening in the blue light.
“Nonsense,” I snapped back at him, surprising even myself with my audacity. I was already beginning to feel like a Spe
aker. “Obviously, you don’t remember Purple as well as I do. I don’t recall that he ever once used violence, or ever once tried to cast a spell against you. In fact, all of the spell-casting done at the old village was done by you. Purple has yet to retaliate for any of your attacks.”
“All the more reason to beware. We’re in his village now — when he does retaliate, it will be a moon-destroyer, Lant.”
“Again, nonsense. Purple is a talker, not a doer.”
“My magic is necessary to protect us, Lant —”
“Granted, that you should protect us, but that does not mean that you must attack Purple right off —”
“The only good defense is a strong offense —”
“And you will have the moons falling out of the sky on top of us! Why don’t you wait to see what he is planning? You forget that you have power over him, Shoogar — you have his lenses. He’ll want them back. He’ll do anything to get them back, perhaps even swear an oath of truce.”
“Truce?” exploded Shoogar. “Truce?!! Lant, you have the mind of a flea! There can be no truce with magicians. I ought to know!”
“And you have the temper of a goat!” I snapped back. “If it weren’t for me, you would have killed yourself long ago attempting to hurl fire balls at Elcin!”
This stopped Shoogar for a moment. He looked at me speechlessly. “Lant,” he said quietly. “You surprise me. I had no idea you were so violent.”
“It’s been a long hard journey, Shoogar — I’m tired. Most of all, I’m tired of suffering because of poor judgment on the part of a magician. Now use your brain for once — or if you haven’t one, let me use mine for you.”
“What is it you are suggesting…?” he sighed.
“Wait — that’s all. Wait. Swear an oath of truce, if necessary. It is too soon to duel with Purple, much too soon. If you attempt to duel with him on his home ground you are doomed to lose. Wait until you are on equal terms at least.”
Shoogar didn’t say anything. He examined his fingernails thoughtfully, and scratched at his thin fur.
The Flying Sorcerers Page 11