A Wizard of the White Council

by Jonathan Moeller

  Arran thought this over. “Could you take me on a tour of this city, this Chicago?”

  The boy rolled his eyes and looked back at his glass rectangle. “Dude, I got better things to do with my time than to take a smelly old guy on a tour.”

  Arran dug in his pocket. “Wait.” He pulled out one of the dollars that the drunken man had given him. “In exchange for this dollar, will you show me the customs of the buses?”

  The boy’s eyes got wide. “You’ll give me fifty dollars to show you around on the buses?”

  “No, it’s just one dollar.”

  The boy snatched the dollar from Arran’s hand. “Right. Sure. Okay, mister, you got a deal. If I went home I’d just have to mow the lawn. I’ll show you how to use the buses. But you better not be a kidnapper or a pervert or something like that. If you try anything I’ll kick you in the balls until they burst.”

  “That sounds unpleasant.” Arran spread his hands. “I just want to find my way around the city.” If he could learn to use the buses, they would be an invaluable aid to him. “What’s your name?”

  The boy thought about it. “You can call me Robert.”

  Arran nodded. “Arran Belphon, at your service.”

  “Okay, Mr. Belphon.” Robert scratched his arm. “Stupid mosquitoes. We’ll wait for the bus. We might have to stand, since it’s Saturday and everyone’s going shopping.”

  “Saturday?” said Arran. “What’s that?”

  “You know. Saturday. I get off school and my parents get off work.”

  “A day of rest, then,” said Arran. Robert had to be the son of a noble or a scholar. No one else could afford to attend a university.

  “So where do you want to go?” said Robert. “Are you visiting relatives here or something?”

  “No,” said Arran. “I’m looking for two people. An old man named Alastarius and a boy named Lithon Scepteris. Lithon would be two or three years older than you, I think.”

  Robert shrugged. “Never met either of them. Are they friends of yours?”

  “No.” Arran stared into the street and watched the jeeps drive back and forth. “Alastarius was a…a friend of woman I knew in my homeland. She told me to find him before she died.”

  “Was she sick?”

  Arran shook his head. “No. She was killed. I saw it happen.”

  Robert’s eyes got wide. “Wow, Mr. Belphon. That sucks.”

  “Indeed.” Arran closed his eyes and thought of everything that had happened since Marugon had returned from Earth.

  They sat in silence.

  Robert jumped to his feet and craned his neck. “The bus is coming. So where do you want to go, Mr. Belphon?”

  “Just show me around the city.”

  Robert grinned. “It’s a big city. That might take a while.”

  A bus stopped at the intersection. “Then show me the important places. The market square, the residences of the lords, places like that.” Perhaps he would find Marugon's gun-merchants there.

  “I think we’ll go downtown, then,” said Robert. “We’ll take the bus, and then switch to the EL.”

  “The EL?”

  “Here.” Robert handed him eight small coins. Arran gave the coins a dubious glance. They did not look like real silver. “Since you gave me fifty dollars, I suppose I can pay for your bus fare. Put those coins in the machine. The driver will give you a ticket. Then we’ll go find a seat, if there’s one free.”

  The bus ground to a stop before the bench, and the doors hissed open. Robert bounded up the steps and put his coins in the machine. The driver, a large black-skinned woman, handed him a small piece of paper. Arran followed Robert up and put his coins into the machine.

  The driver gave him a dubious look. “You can’t be taking those big swords on the bus.”

  “My swords?” said Arran. “Why not?” He was relieved he had hidden his guns.

  “They’re just painted plastic,” said Robert, leaning back. “My Dad's taking them to school with me so we can use them for the play.”

  “All right.” The driver pushed a pedal on the floor, and the bus lurched into motion. Arran grabbed at a support pole for balance. “But you cause any trouble, I’ll be calling the cops on your sorry ass faster than you can blink.”

  Robert led Arran through the crowded bus. No one spared them a glance. Robert claimed an empty seat, and Arran sat beside him.

  “Charming woman,” said Arran. The bus’s vibrations made him feel queasy. “And I’m not your father.”

  “Like, duh,” said Robert. “What was I supposed to tell her? That you’re some crazy guy I met? She’d probably call the cops.”

  “The cops?” said Arran.

  “Yeah, the cops. You know, the police.”

  Arran nodded. “You mean the city guard. So we are going to…Down Town, you said? Where is Down Town?”

  Robert laughed. “No, downtown. The center of the city. There’s a lot of cool big buildings there and stuff. Maybe we’ll go to the Willis Tower. I think it’s open today. Yeah…then you can see how big the city is for yourself.”

  “How long will it take for us to reach downtown?” said Arran.

  “About half an hour, I think.”

  Arran blinked. “Half an hour. In this vehicle?” He felt his stomach twitch. “Just how big is Chicago?”

  Robert grinned. “You’ll see.”

  ###

  “Astonishing,” said Arran, watching the elevated train shoot away. “I have never traveled that fast in my life.”

  Robert laughed. “Airplanes are faster. This way.” He led Arran across the crowded train platform and down a broad set of stairs to the street below.

  “An airplane?” said Arran. “What is that?”

  “You know, an airplane? Wait. You probably don’t. It flies in the air from place to place.”

  Arran blinked. “You mean there are machines that can fly?” He could not fathom such a thing.

  Robert laughed. “Yeah. I’ve been on one. My parents took me to Disney World when I was nine.” He seemed to find all these marvels commonplace.

  Arran frowned. “Disney World? Did…you travel through the Tower?”

  “What Tower?”

  “The Tower of Endless Worlds,” said Arran. “Is that how you reached this world of Disney?”

  “No, we took a plane. Disney World’s in Florida. That’s way south of here. I’ve never heard of this Tower of Infinite Planets, or whatever you said.”

  Perhaps most of the people of Earth did not know about the Tower. After all, the door had vanished as soon as Arran had stepped through it. Perhaps a few merchants had discovered the Tower and used that opportunity to sell guns to Marugon.

  “Mr. Belphon, you okay?”

  Arran nodded. “I’m fine. Just thinking.”

  Robert grinned. “Well, if you like towers, wait until you see this close-up. Remember those things you thought were mountains?”

  “Yes.” He had glimpsed them through the window of the marvelous vehicle Robert had called an elevated train. They looked like strange, angular mountains. “So what about them? Are they truly mountains?”

  “Come on, I’ll show you.”

  Jeeps buzzed up and down the street, while men and women on foot hurried along the sidewalk. Almost all the people wore dark clothes, the fabrics gray or black. The women wore dresses with jackets, though the skirts still seemed high to Arran.

  “So these mountains,” said Arran. “They are the strangest mountains I have seen.”

  Robert laughed. “They’re not mountains, Mr. Belphon. They’re towers. You know, buildings.”

  That was astonishing. “Buildings?”

  “Yup,” said Robert. They turned a corner. “Look at the Chicago skyline for yourself.”

  Arran froze. “By all the gods that ever were.”

  Dozens of huge towers stood clustered in the heart of the Chicago. Some were brown, some gray, others a gleaming black. They were not as large as the Tower of Endless Wor
lds, of course, but forces unknown had reared that Tower. “Men built these things?”

  “Yup.” Robert’s laughter redoubled. “Mr. Belphon, you’d better close your mouth. A bug’s going to fly in there if you don’t.”

  Arran shook his head. “What are these towers used for?”

  “Business, I guess.” Robert shrugged. “They’re called skyscrapers.”

  “I can see why. You mean merchants’ guilds?”

  “Maybe.” He pointed at the biggest of the towers, a colossal black building crowned with two white spires. “That’s the Willis Tower. It used to be the headquarters of Sears, a place that sells clothes and drills and stuff. But now my dad says the Japanese own that building.”

  “If you say so.” Arran stared up at the great black tower. “Do you know how many people live in Chicago?”

  Robert grinned. “Say. If you want to see how big Chicago really is, then come with me.” He crossed the street and headed for the Willis Tower, Arran following. Robert steered his way through the crowds with deft skill. They passed a number of shops, their front windows stuffed with all manner of exotic merchandise. Food smells filled the air, and Arran's stomach grumbled. He would stop and have some jerky after Robert showed him the Willis Tower.

  They soon reached the front doors of skyscraper, a massive edifice of polished glass and gleaming steel. Robert led him into a front gallery, polished stone gleaming beneath his shoes. They stood in line for some time, and Robert paid some money to a clerk at a counter.

  “You’ve been here before,” said Arran, staring at the strange architecture.

  “Yup.” Robert handed him a small piece of stiff paper. “Here’s your ticket.”

  “Ticket?” said Arran. “Ticket to what?”

  “The observation gallery. It’s a good view. You can see the city for miles. We go this way.” They walked down a corridor illuminated by lamps set in the ceiling. “Here we go.” A row of black metal doors stood in the wall. Robert pressed a button and waited. One of the doors slid open, revealing a small gray room.

  “What’s this?” said Arran.

  Robert walked inside. “An elevator. Aren’t you coming?”

  “Very well.” Arran stepped inside. “But I thought we were going to the top of the tower…”

  The small room lurched, and Arran grabbed at the wall for support. “What’s happening?”

  Robert laughed. “Did you think we were going to take all those stairs up? It’s a long walk.”

  Arran’s ears popped. “So what is this thing?”

  “An elevator." Arran gave him a look of incomprehension, and Robert sighed. "It’s a big box that’s pulled up and down a tube by a metal cable. Beats taking the stairs for a hundred floors.” He gave Arran a strange look. “You’ve never seen an elevator before, have you? You must have come from a really foreign country.”

  Arran grunted. “You haven’t the slightest idea.”

  The black metal door slid aside, revealing a carpeted room with floor-to-ceiling windows. Robert stepped out.

  “Here we are,” said Robert. He pointed at an odd-looking machine mounted on a metal post. “You can put a quarter in that telescope. But that’s stupid, paying a quarter. I usually bring my binoculars, but I didn’t know I was coming here today…”

  Arran didn’t hear a word.

  The city of Chicago stretched away in all directions. Arran staggered to the railing and stared out through the windows. He saw countless houses, more skyscrapers, endless roads, and thousands and thousands of jeeps. He saw the spires and domes of churches, the curve of a vast arena, and thousands of other buildings.

  “My gods,” said Arran.

  “Oh, yeah,” said Robert, grinning with delight. “I remember. Mrs. Lawson made us memorize stuff about Chicago in social studies class. I think…there are three million people in the city.”

  Arran stared at him. “Three million?” Carlisan had been the greatest of the cities of the High Kingdoms, vast and rich and powerful, and it had held only a quarter of a million people. “Three million people? You must be jesting.”

  “Um…I don’t know what jesting is, so I don’t think so,” said Robert. “But I learned that in school. And if you add all the people in the suburbs, then it’s eight million. Or that might be the metropolitan area. I’m not sure.”

  Arran shook his head. “Eight million? My gods. Chicago must be the paramount city of your world.”

  “Paramount?”

  “The biggest, the greatest,” said Arran, his eyes fixed on the spectacle of Chicago.

  “Oh, no. I think there are two bigger cities in this country. Um…Los Angeles is bigger, I know that, and so is New York.”

  “Gods,” said Arran. He saw a broad expanse of blue stretched beyond the edge of the city. “Is that the ocean?”

  Robert laughed. “No. That’s Lake Michigan. I saw the ocean once. Well, technically the Gulf of Mexico, but that’s part of the ocean, so I guess it counts.”

  Arran shook his head, staring at the city. A sense of amazed hopelessness fell over him. Eight million people? How could he possibly find Alastarius among such a multitude? And Robert had said that the United States held larger cities. The lords of the United States must hold sway over uncounted millions of people. He considered asking Robert the United States’ population, then decided against it.

  He really did not want to know.

  “Um…you okay?” said Robert.

  Arran nodded. “I am. It’s just…overwhelming. I have never seen a city this large, never dreamed of it.” What was he going to do now? “Let us go. If I stare at the city much longer I shall lose my mind.”

  “Let’s go get some supper,” said Robert. “I’m hungry.”

  “Very well.” They walked back into the elevator. Robert pressed a button, and it descended with a lurch. “Is it customary for a child your age to wander about alone?”

  “Probably not,” said Robert. “But my parents are both at work all day and won’t be home until late. So they don’t know. I don’t think they even care, so long as I don’t get myself into trouble.”

  “Are your parents noble?” said Arran. “You seem well-educated enough to be a son of the nobility.”

  Robert blinked. “I don’t know what a noble is, but my mom's a copyeditor and my dad's an ad executive. So I don’t see them much.”

  “Ah,” said Arran, wondering what a copyeditor was. “So you’re like the son of a preoccupied high lord…free to wander the streets of the city while your father is engaged with high matters.” He blinked, a long-forgotten memory rising to the surface. “I used to be like that. Even when I became a squire. When my duties for the day were completed I would get myself into trouble.”

  “A squire?” said Robert. “So you’re like a knight or something?”

  Arran grunted and tapped the hilt of his Sacred Blade.

  “Cool.” He hesitated. “Can…can I see it?”

  The door slid open, revealing the lobby of the Sears Tower. “When we’re outside.” He looked at the people walking through the lobby. Many of the men were fat and looked unused to toil or hunger. The women had a sleek, haughty look in their gray skirts and coats, but Arran suspected they would run screaming at the sight of a bared weapon. “I doubt this crowd would react well if I drew a blade in their midst.”

  Robert laughed. “You can say that again.”

  They walked outside. “More people than before.”

  Robert shrugged. “It’s five o’clock. Everyone’s probably going home from work.”

  Arran saw a bench by the curb. “Let’s sit there. I can have something to eat and you can see a Sacred Blade.”

  They sat. Arran rubbed his leg, some of the ache fading.

  Robert looked curious. “So you going to show me it or not?”

  “Of course.” He drew the Sacred Blade, the steel flashing crimson in the sunlight. A few passers-by gave him strange looks.

  “Wow,” said Robert. “I’ve never seen a
real sword before.”

  Arran flipped the hilt to face him. “Here. You can hold it, if you wish. Take care, though…it will likely be very heavy.”

  Robert snorted. “It doesn’t look that heavy.” He grasped the hilt. His eyes widened and the tip of the blade bobbed towards the ground. “It…is heavy. What’s this made of? Lead?”

  “No.” Arran rummaged through his pack and pulled out a piece of jerky. “It’s part of the way the blade was fashioned. It will only feel light and balanced in the hands of a Knight. And a Knight can only wield one Sacred Blade at time.” He thought of Sir Liam. “Well, usually.”

  “Why do you have two?” said Robert, the sword wavering in his hands.

  “Two?” Arran touched Luthar’s sword, still slung over his shoulder after all these miles. He had forgotten about it. “This was my brother’s. He was…killed in a battle a long time ago, right in front of me. I couldn’t leave his sword for our enemies, so I took it with me. I’ve had it with me ever since.

  Robert’s eyes got wide. “So you’ve killed people with this?”

  Arran took a bite of jerky. “More than I can remember.”

  “Why is the blade all red?” said Robert. He touched it with a tentative finger. “Is…is that blood?”

  “Yes,” said Arran. “The woman I told you of earlier?” Robert nodded. “It’s hers.”

  Robert’s face screwed with revulsion. “You killed her?”

  “No.” Arran shook his head. “No. When she was killed, I dipped the sword in her blood. I used it to slayer her killer. But the stain of the blood stayed. I suppose it serves as a reminder.” He considered telling Robert of the white magic and decided against it. The people of Earth seemed to have no Wizards or Warlocks. He looked up at the towering skyscrapers.

  They didn’t need Wizards. Their machines could do things no Wizard could ever do.

  Robert handed back the sword. “That’s sad.” Arran slid the sword back into its scabbard. “Dude. What is that stuff you are eating?”

  “This?” He swallowed. “Jerky. I think it’s beef. Or possibly pork. After a few months, it’s hard to tell.”