But when he turned around again, Joachim looked old, his hair more streaked with gray than I remembered and his cheeks lined. Only his eyes, enormous and deep-set, burned with the same fire that had always been in them. "Christ came to redeem us from sin and death," he said slowly, "to tell us that the grave is not the end, that we may all yet meet again. We can only pray to believe this."
When the bishop fell silent and looked unlikely to speak again, King Paul rose from his place. "I think it would be good," he said, his voice rough, "if those of us who knew Daimbert best were to say a few words in his memory, so that the good he did may not be forgotten. I shall always revere him as the man who saved the castle of Yurt from black magic more than once over the years. I rewarded him with the Golden Yurt, slight recompense for the mortal danger he put himself into for all our sakes. And all the men who receive that reward in future generations will know that they have a difficult model to emulate."
Paul turned toward the wizards then. "It is because of my respect for wizardry that I have invited these two old friends of his from the City to be here." He spoke firmly, as though refuting some argument against their presence—had either the bishop or Theodora tried to exclude them? "In Daimbert's honor, I have rejected any insinuation that wizards should not be governors of men. Nor shall I participate in any force joined to oppose wizardry. But it is not for Daimbert's use of magic that I shall principally remember him. I shall remember him as a counselor, a companion, and a friend."
Something was going on here that I had clearly missed— was he referring to Elerius's role as regent of his kingdom?
Gwennie rose then when the king stopped speaking. "Daimbert was my friend as well," she said, a quiver in her voice. "Man or woman, great lord or servant—it made no difference to him." She took a deep breath as though intending to say more, but instead put her handkerchief over her eyes and sat down quickly.
Paul turned to look at Theodora, as though inviting her too to say a few words. She shook her head, almost imperceptibly, and the king murmured something low and put a sympathetic arm around her shoulders.
The duchess rose then. "I've worked with at least four different wizards over the years, both royal and ducal, and Daimbert was by far the best. I'm horribly sorry he's gone now. If it hadn't been for him I might never have married," with a tender look for her husband, "so I have a personal reason to thank him, but there was always more. Daimbert had spunk."
But I was distracted from listening by watching Theodora and the king. I wasn't at all sure I liked him sitting with his arm around her in such a proprietary way. Gwennie, looking toward them with narrowed eyes, her handkerchief forgotten, had noticed too.
It meant nothing, I told myself sternly, being only an expression of Paul's affectionate nature. But the nagging voice pointed out that Theodora was now, as far as she knew, a widow, while Paul was the same man who had already proposed marriage to two different women essentially back-to-back. Maybe he thought the third time would be the charm. Well, I thought with a small smile, he'd have to ennoble her first, and I guessed that Theodora's reaction to that would be the same as Gwennie's.
A number of people looked toward the two wizards when the duchess had finished, clearly expecting to hear from them next. They glanced at each other uncertainly, hesitating, but instead the Lady Maria bounced to her feet.
"I knew the wizard Daimbert before a lot of you were even born," she announced, "back when I was just a slip of a thing myself." She had actually been a mature woman at the time I first arrived in Yurt, but I was certainly not going to correct her. "When he came I was at a difficult stage, but he acted as my knight, polite and gentle, guiding me both in the ways of judgment and the ways of the heart." I remembered this somewhat differently. "And everybody's been talking about their sorrow and the hope for a better place, but I want to say that it's just terrible that he's dead! And I want to find out why, how he let his guard down, what kind of dragon ate him, and if somebody sent him up there on purpose to get eaten!" It sounded as though my ruse with the air cart had worked perfectly, though I wasn't sure I liked the direction her ideas were taking.
Lady Maria suddenly gave a little scream, cutting off the flow of her words and making everyone jump. "Look! Look there!" she cried. "Saint Eusebius is telling us the real culprit!" And to my amazement I saw that the statue of the Cranky Saint had taken one gilded hand off his staff and was pointing. "It's that wizard who killed our Daimbert!" Maria shrieked. And indeed the saint was pointing straight at Elerius.
* * * *
The chapel was filled with startled exclamations as everyone started to push forward for a better look, then stopped, overcome with awe. I myself was so surprised that for a moment I almost lost track of my invisibility spell. The air was suddenly heavy with the odor of roses—months out of season.
Elerius was so taken aback that open shock showed on his face, though I didn't think anyone but me noticed. He would have had little contact over the years with the supernatural, only with natural magic: he had dealt with a demon once, but never with saints, who might interfere less than did the dark forces in human affairs, but whose power, when they used it, was such to make all the might of wizardry laughable.
The bishop alone approached the statue, cautiously and reverently. "The saint, the patron of this kingdom, has indeed sought to tell us something important," he said at last. "Perhaps he is merely admonishing the wizard Elerius always to remember the self-sacrifice and the rejection of absolute power which Daimbert demonstrated in his life. We must pray to understand the saint's true meaning."
"I just told you his true meaning!" snapped the Lady Maria, completely uncowed. "That wizard told us himself he sent our Daimbert up north to the land of dragons, on some 'secret' mission. Why else would he have done it if not to make sure the dragons would eat him?" She whirled toward King Paul. "I'll never understand why, sire, you thought it appropriate to invite the obvious murderer to our Daimbert's funeral!"
But before either Paul or Joachim, must less Elerius, could answer her, a high voice piped up, quavering with shyness and emotion, yet absolutely determined. "Maybe the saint is just telling us to ask Elerius where my father has gone," my daughter exclaimed. "Because I know he's not dead."
Elerius, his composure fairly well recovered, spoke then for the first time. "I most certainly did not kill your father, Antonia," he said smoothly, "as I had hoped he would help in the difficult task of making the transition from the old Master's governance of the wizards' school to whatever new order we decide upon. As acting Master, I require all the assistance possible." Still only acting Master, I noticed; maybe the other wizards wouldn't be as pliable as he hoped. "But I am interested to know why you think he is still alive." There was more in his words than an adult's kindness to a bereaved child. Could he somehow have detected my presence?
"Because I'm a witch," Antonia answered, between pride and mortification. "Witches can tell what's happened to people they love—though I must say my mother has given up awfully easily!"
"Antonia, dearest, we saw the blood and the toothmarks—" But Theodora did not have a chance to finish.
King Paul sprang to his feet. "You have deceived me, Wizard!" he almost shouted at Elerius. "I did not want to believe it, for I knew that Daimbert had always thought well of his friends at the wizards' school. And I did not credit King Lucas of Caelrhon and his stories about how all the wizards are now planning to eliminate all the kings, or how we have to fight them—Lucas came up with some story like that a dozen years ago, and it was all nonsense then. But this time he may be right!"
Is that what I had seen in Caelrhon? Troops massing to march against Elerius's kingdom—or even against the wizards' school itself?
"For Daimbert warned me," Paul continued darkly. "He made a veiled suggestion that 'something' might happen at the wizards' school, something that would require me to hire a new wizard. At the time I paid little attention. But I see now that he knew he was going into mortal
danger when he returned there."
Zahlfast answered for Elerius, who seemed more surprised than angered at this accusation. "But wizards do not kill each other," he told the king. "Not since the Black Wars has there been a single instance of one wizard murdering another, as much as we might sometimes quarrel. What possible motive could Elerius have for wanting to murder his friend?"
Paul, deflated, did not answer, but Theodora spoke for him. "There was in fact a very good motive. I have told no one of this before."
"Except me," put in Antonia. "And in fact I was the one who found it!"
They had the full attention of everyone in the room— including me. Theodora reached into her pocket. "Here I have a letter from the late Master of the school, naming Daimbert as his successor. He was too modest to tell any of us—the letter was hidden in the back of a drawer, where Antonia and I found it as we were going through his effects. But Elerius must have known—and killed him because of it."
"Except that he's not dead," put in Antonia, but no one was listening.
For the first time that I could remember, Elerius was genuinely dumbstruck. This revelation that he had not been the Master's favorite, coming so close after the pointing statue, hit him unprepared. Zahlfast snatched the letter from Theodora, and several other people craned over his shoulder to read the Master's shaky hand.
That's done it, I thought. I had faked my own death knowing that Elerius would want to manipulate me in life. But with this letter he now had a genuine motive to find and kill me.
The bishop spoke into the silence. "The statue of Saint Eusebius is no longer pointing," he said. "He seems satisfied that we have received his message."
Everyone had shifted away from Elerius, even Zahlfast, leaving a wide empty space around him. "The statue means nothing," he said harshly. "Maybe the lady just imagined she saw it move. Or maybe somebody moved it by magic," with a scowl for Theodora.
But then he took a breath, straightened his shoulders, and I could see him becoming calm and reasonable again through sheer will. "And this letter is not the startling document you all seem to think it is. I'm sure the Master was only here confirming something I had already determined for myself: that Daimbert and I should jointly head the wizards' school. I know that my own abilities are such that no other candidate will presume to present himself to oppose me, but I also wanted Daimbert, with his flair for improvisation, to assist in my tasks. Doubtless the Master worried that the other wizards might feel uncomfortable with having someone as their co-head who had as weak an academic background as Daimbert did, and that is why he thought this letter was necessary. Didn't Daimbert tell you he had agreed to rule jointly with me?"
"No," said Theodora and Joachim together, clearly not believing a word of it—though I could have told them that parts were true.
But Zahlfast's reaction was the most pronounced. "You cannot decide for yourself, Elerius, that you are going to head the wizards' school, with or without a co-ruler! We have yet to elect the man to replace the Master, and you cannot simply assume it will be you!"
Elerius's peaked eyebrows gave a sharp twitch; he had miscalculated, something he rarely did, and he knew it.
"I have been second in command at the school for years," Zahlfast continued, almost in a growl, his face close to the other's. "Yet you do not see me making any such presumption!" With an open quarrel between powerful wizards, this was going to be the liveliest funeral Yurt had ever seen. "I would have thought your position as regent for your kingdom would have disqualified you for the permanent leadership of the school—especially since you have been widening your activities lately with your campaign for City mayor. I cannot speak for the other wizards, Elerius, as you seem to think you can, in believing that they will all choose you: but I can certainly speak for them in saying that you are presuming far too much!"
Antonia, watching them, was again playing with something in her pocket. She took it out, and it glinted a moment in the candlelight. My attention was momentarily jerked away from the two wizards, for I recognized it. Antonia was holding her mother's old ring of invisibility.
And then she slipped it on. Normally one invisible person cannot see another—in a room full of wizards practicing their invisibility spells one would see nothing but shadows. But I could still see my daughter, seeming to shimmer slightly around the edges as she tossed back her braids.
Everyone else was staring at the two wizards. Antonia looked straight at me and slowly started to smile.
I raised a finger to my lips. Theodora's ring not only made the wearer invisible but, because it had a spell to reveal that which is hidden carved into the gold, it allowed the wearer to see through others' spells of invisibility. Antonia smiled wider and nodded, a finger to her own lips.
Then she slipped back into visibility, just as her mother took her sharply by the arm, muttering, "Give me that ring, now! I told you not to play with it."
While I had been distracted, Elerius and Zahlfast had clearly exchanged further remarks, because both were now flushed. "Why fight me, old man?" Elerius was saying, almost in a shout. "Why fight the new ways, in which wizardry will rule the earth? If you don't want to be part of it retire, as you should have years ago. We wizards have served society for centuries with our magic—now we'll dominate society for its own good!"
The older wizard did not like this at all, but he did not answer. Instead I realized with dismay that he was trying to turn Elerius into a frog.
He was not going to be successful by himself. Even as I recognized that, even as I tried to shape a spell to assist him that would still leave me invisible, Elerius broke free of the other's magic.
And the statue of the saint raised both hands in horror, dropping his staff, as a great wall of fire rose in the middle of the chapel. Elerius rose with it, laughing defiantly, then both he and the fire disappeared with a shower of golden sparks— and I felt him rush past me, not seeing me any more than I could see him, as he flew from the room and from the castle.
Part Five:
Xantium
I
This was no longer me against Elerius. This was a split within institutionalized wizardry.
As I flew rapidly back toward Caelrhon, where I had left Hadwidis and the purple flying beast, I tried to imagine what Zahlfast was telling the rest of the wizards back in the City. I didn't dare get close enough to the telephone room to catch more than an occasional word, but he had shot straight there as soon as Elerius disappeared, missing Joachim's only partially successful efforts to restore the dignity of my funeral long enough for a somber hymn. Zahlfast was talking loudly into the telephone and waving his arms wildly when I left.
Elerius should most definitely not, I thought, have tried to defy him. The older wizard had never been flashy, but he had not become second in command at the school without an enormous amount of magical ability. And he also had the respect of the schools' teachers —of whom Elerius had been by far the youngest. And now Elerius was suddenly no longer the Master's apparent heir and no longer had the school's resources to draw on, but would have to operate from in hiding.
Shadows were long as I dropped from the sky into the grove where Naurag and Hadwidis were hidden. First thing tomorrow, I thought with renewed spirits, it was off to the East. If I could escape dragons, I should be able to master an Ifrit, and with the latter's power I would easily discover Elerius's hiding place and bring him bound in magic fetters to the school.
Where by now everyone knew that the old Master had wanted me to succeed him. I pushed this thought aside as Hadwidis sprang up to meet me.
It was a little embarrassing to realize how delighted she was to see me, considering I had not thought of her even once all day. There was, I thought, a tinge of relief in her happy smile, but she spoke as though she had never doubted I would return.
"Naurag ate all the melons while you were gone," she told me cheerfully, "and I ate almost everything else, so I hope you had something for lunch wherever you went!" I hadn't
but let it pass. The purple flying beast pushed his snout into my chest in a welcoming way, and I rubbed his head above the bony eye ridges. "Did you know, Wizard, they hardly ever let us eat meat at the nunnery? Only when we were sick—though I must say, some of the older sisters seemed to get 'sick' pretty often!"
"I'm going to have to take you someplace safe," I told her, "someplace where you'll have plenty to eat and a warm place to spend the nights until your hair grows out. You know you can't keep on sleeping under bushes—the next person you meet might not wish you well as much as I do."
"That's no problem," she answered, handing me the remains of the bread and cheese. There was what appeared to be a fang mark on the cheese, as though she had tried feeding it to the flying beast but he hadn't liked it. "I'll just stay with you."
I knew she'd say that. I broke off the corner of the cheese where Naurag had nibbled and ate the rest. "I'm afraid I'm going someplace too dangerous for you. But I've thought of a wonderful spot for you to stay. The royal castle of Yurt isn't far from here, and the people there are very friendly—or so I've heard," I added quickly.
Gwennie, I thought, would take care of her. Now I just had to make sure that Hadwidis didn't drop any clues that would allow Gwennie to deduce she had been with the recently deceased wizard of Yurt—without telling Hadwidis that that was who I was.
Her face fell, and she put both arms around Naurag's neck, suggesting that if I left her behind I wouldn't be taking my purple companion either. "But you can't leave me, Wizard," she said stubbornly, eyes downcast. "Saint Eusebius wanted me to find you, and there's no telling how cranky he'll be if you take off without hearing the information I'm supposed to give you."
"And have you remembered it?" I asked hopefully.
She gave me a quick, coy look from under her eyebrows— as if, I thought, she had been spending the day practicing to be a tavern wench. "I might remember if you took me along."
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