A Bad Spell in Yurt woy-1

by C. Dale Brittain

  I didn’t see the stranger, although they had. He must have gotten by me, if indeed I had seen him here by the Lady Maria’s door, and had not imagined it while dazzled by the sun. He clearly was able to make himself invisible if he wished, and he did not have my problem of invisibility stopping at the knees. He was certainly finding the chase hilarious.

  It was well past time for it to stop. I saw him then, walking quickly but unconcernedly along the parapets. I set my teeth and began preparing a paralysis spell.

  A paralysis spell is complicated, and I had only ever cast one successfully once, over a year ago, when I had frozen another young wizard in the middle of the classroom. Then it had worked spectacularly well, even though the instructor had spoken to me very firmly after class. I put the words of the Hidden Language together as rapidly as I could and cast it toward the stranger’s retreating back.

  This time the spell did not work at all. The stranger kept on walking, just as unconcernedly, and then either slipped into a doorway or made himself invisible again. I ran down into the courtyard to intercept the others.

  They were all panting, even the queen, and quite willing to stop. “This person is a wizard,” I said, even though I did not think of him as a wizard in the sense that I was one, or Zahlfast was, or the old Master in the city or my predecessor down in the forest. But it was too complicated at the moment to explain that this was someone able to walk through my best spells-and probably responsible for breaking my magic locks. “He’s deliberately making us chase him, to tease us, because he knows he can always disappear when we get close.”

  “But can’t you stop him with magic?” said the constable.

  “His magic is nearly as strong as mine,” I said. This was a wild understatement, but Dominic was glowering at me as though it were all my fault. “I’m trying to stop him, but it may take me a while. At the moment, I don’t think he’s doing any damage to the castle. But we don’t want him to escape before I’ve had a chance to capture him and find out who he is and why he’s come here.”

  I turned to Dominic. “Let me have the cellar key. If I catch him, I’ll lock him down there. Meanwhile, rather than amusing him by running around the courtyard any longer, let’s stop until I’ve found a way to break down his magic defenses. But put a guard on the gate, to be sure he doesn’t sneak back out.”

  Privately, I was rather hoping he would sneak back out. If he made himself invisible, he would have no trouble slipping past guards at the gate, unless they put the drawbridge up, which I didn’t think they would do. I had never seen the bridge raised since coming to Yurt, and the rest of the castle servants weren’t all back yet. And even then, this stranger who was impervious to a paralysis spell, which had taken the instructor five minutes to break the last time I used it, would have no trouble flying over the walls.

  The pursuers all agreed readily. Dominic handed me the rusty cellar key without comment. Even the queen had had enough of this fruitless chase. But as she stood next to me, her bosom rising and falling with her rapid breaths, I again found it impossible to suspect her. If she had married the king in the hopes of being a widow soon, why had she nursed him so tenderly when he was ill and been so grateful when he was healed?

  The others went in search of lunch, but I got a coat from my chambers and sat down on a bench in the courtyard, where I could watch the gate. Dominic put two knights there to guard as well. I wished the chaplain would come back soon.

  Several times during the afternoon I caught a glimpse of the stranger. New attempts at casting a paralysis spell on him had no more effect than had the first attempt. I did however miss with one of my efforts and catch one of the stable boys. He froze, as unmoving as wood, in the middle of the courtyard, and it took me ten minutes and a quick trip to my books to break the spell and free him. Fortunately, we were around the corner from the guards at the gate, and when motion suddenly returned to him he just shook his head, looked at me as though embarrassed to have gone into a sudden revery in my presence, and hurried back to the stables.

  At one point in the afternoon I became so desperate that I decided to try to telephone Zahlfast. I got down one of my glass telephones, added a few spells that I hoped might make it work this time, and spoke the number of the school telephone. But it worked no better than it had for Maria and me. I could see a young wizard answering it, but he could neither hear nor see me, and a moment he hung up with a gesture of irritation.

  All right, I thought. Zahlfast had told me that they didn’t want the young wizards asking for help with every little problem anyway. I would have to solve this one myself.

  I realized that, by refusing to chase the stranger, I was giving him the opportunity to talk at leisure to the Lady Maria or anyone else he wished, but I was fairly sure he would able to do whatever he wanted anyway, even with me close at his heels.

  Several times, when he had not shown himself for twenty minutes or more, I hoped that he had gone, slipped back to wherever he had come from. But when, with trepidation, I tried probing for him, he was always there, a mind so evil that I was always shaken even when expecting it. He seemed deliberately to be mocking me. My spells did not have any effect on him, but his very presence nearly paralyzed me.

  And then, very suddenly, he was gone. I did not see him, and I did not feel him. I probed delicately, then boldly, and found only the same oblique evil touch that I had long felt in the castle. Not knowing whether to be jubilant or wary at this abrupt departure, I looked up and saw Joachim crossing the bridge into the castle.

  I ran to meet him, looking with some apprehension up into his face.

  He was actually smiling. “The little boy is fine,” he said as I helped him dismount. “I do not think he was ever dangerously ill. The doctor’s draught had, I believe, already put him well toward recovery, and the village priest’s prayers had assisted him long before I even arrived.”

  “That’s wonderful,” I said. It sounded inadequate, even in my own ears, but at least it was better than, “How nice,” or, “Congratulations!”

  “It looks like I’m even in time for supper,” said Joachim, still smiling. “I don’t know about you, but I’m in the mood for one of our cook’s excellent dinners after the overspiced food we were served at the duchess’s castle.”

  I carried his saddlebag up to his room for him, then left him to change and wash for supper while I returned to my chambers to do the same. At first I only felt an intense relief that he was back and the stranger gone. But while I was drying my face, I began to wonder how the two events were related. Perhaps his saintly presence was enough to drive away someone embroiled with evil, in which case I never wanted him to leave the castle again, no matter who might be sick in the village.

  But perhaps in some way he was the stranger. This was such a terrifying thought that I froze with my face in the towel. I had never known of such a thing directly, but one heard stories and rumors. When he left, as the good, pious chaplain, perhaps he left behind his twin, evil, self, who then was able to run wild through the castle until the good self returned and the two were again united.

  I shook the towel out with much more than necessary energy. This was the kind of story the young wizards liked to tell the new students when they first arrived. In any event, I was going to do my best to see that the good, pious chaplain did not leave again.

  IV

  The morning of the day of Christmas Eve dawned snowy, but by the time I had eaten my cruller and drunk my tea-both brought to my door satisfyingly hot by Gwen, who had a sprig of holly in her hair-the sun had come out, and the snow in the courtyard sparkled like diamonds. It seemed almost a shame when the stableboys came out with big brooms to sweep it aside.

  The duchess, the two counts, and the old wizard were coming that evening. Preparations for Christmas had kept everyone busy enough that they seemed to have forgotten about the elusive stranger and to be satisfied with my statement that he had vanished magically in the late afternoon, and that while I still did no
t know where he had come from, I was fairly confident he was not coming back.

  An enormous fir had been cut in the forest the day before and set up in the corner of the great hall overnight, while the snow dried from its branches. Now, under the queen’s supervision, the servants hoisted it upright at the head of the hall. Boxes of ornaments were brought out, and the queen and the Lady Maria spent much of the morning running up and down stepladders hanging the decorations. There were glistening silver stars, angels made of of lace and velvet, colored balls that reflected the light, tiny wreaths made of straw, red velvet bows, and scores of tiny magic lights, made years ago by my predecessor. The king himself climbed on a ladder to help hang these deep in the branches of the tree, where they shone with a pure white gleam.

  I brushed my best clothes and worked on the magic tricks I knew I would be called on to perform in the next few days. Since the old wizard was going to be there, with illusions much more solid and realistic than anything I could produce, I was going to have to find other ways to keep the royal party and their guests amused during the twelve days of Christmas.

  I decided to try some transformations. I spent much of the day with Basic Metamorphosis and Elements of Transmogrification, actually realizing at last exactly where I had gone wrong with the frogs.

  In the three weeks since the stranger’s appearance and subsequent disappearance, I had been able to make no progress in determining who he was or where he had come from. I suspected everyone in the castle in turn, except for the king-even the boys being trained as knights in Yurt. I wished I dared tell Joachim my fears, but every time I decided that he was the presence of good that was keeping evil at bay, I found myself suspecting that the stranger might have been the manifestation of his own evil side.

  I remembered when I had first come to Yurt I had wondered what I would be doing to fill my time away from the City. Somehow my days had become so busy that I had not even made any progress on the telephones, even though I had intermittently tried one or another new spell. At one point I had promised myself to complete them for the queen for a Christmas present, but that was impossible now.

  In the late afternoon, we started looking out for our guests. The cook and the kitchen maids had been baking for days, and the smell of pies, cakes, crullers, and bread, mixed with the piny smell from the Christmas tree and the evergreen boughs hung throughout the castle, was almost overwhelming. I stood by the gate, looking out toward the sunset. The air was clear and still, and the sun was framed by the red and ice blue of winter.

  The stable boys went out with lanterns and poles, which they pushed into the ground at intervals along the road up the hill, so that the lanterns could light our guests’ final approach. At the bottom of the hill, they met a figure on foot.

  I recognized the old wizard, even at a distance, and went down to meet him. In his tall white hat, leaning on his oaken staff, he was unmistakable. As I came closer, I could see that he had brought the calico cat, perched on his shoulder.

  “Welcome, Master,” I said, doing the full bow in spite of the thin layer of ice on the road under my knees. I gave the stable boys a stern sideways look, and they ran back up to the castle, doubtless eager to tell the rest of the staff about the meeting between the old and new wizards.

  “Greetings, young whipper-snapper,” he said in what was for him a cordial tone. “Getting too high and mighty in the castle to come see me much anymore, huh?”

  “I’ve been busy all fall,” I said. “I’m delighted to see you. We’ll have plenty of time to talk while you’re here.” Although I did not mention it immediately, the principal topic on which I had to talk to him was the north tower. He would certainly find out very quickly that his magic locks were gone. Although he would have to admit, once I had told him about the stranger, that I had not been personally responsible, he would still certainly feel it had somehow been my fault for letting supernatural influences into the castle in the first place. He had told me unequivocally that there had been no supernatural powers in Yurt in his day, and although I didn’t actually believe this, he might think it was true.

  “I notice no one thought of sending a horse for me,” he said, leaning on his staff going up the hill. “Just because I’m a wizard, no one remembers that I’m also an old man, and walking for miles in the winter is not easy.”

  I had already noticed that his white hair was windblown beneath his hat, in spite of the still air, and had concluded that he had flown most of the way, only setting down on the ground once he was within view of the castle. I decided not to mention this.

  The constable and his wife met us at the bridge, with kind greetings to which the old wizard responded primarily with snorts, although I knew him well enough to see that he was actually extremely pleased to be remembered so fondly. “Let me show you the guest room we’ve prepared for you,” said the constable, leading the way toward the rooms beyond the south tower.

  “Perhaps I could have a word with you now, Master?” I said, hurrying beside him. It would be much better if I could tell him about the empty tower before rather than after he found out for himself.

  “Later, young wizard, later,” he said. “An old man gets tired after walking for miles, and I have to prepare for some really spectacular illusions over dessert. You probably haven’t been able to equal anything of mine, have you?”

  Since this didn’t seem to call for an answer I didn’t give one. Here, at the furthest point in the castle from the north tower, he would not accidentally notice the missing magic locks. Perhaps I could wait and tell him after dinner. My only fear was that he would slip out of his room to check them himself as soon as I was gone.

  He turned on some of his own magic lamps in his room and closed the door behind him. As I was wondering whether I should leave him alone or knock in a few minutes, there was the sound of horses’ hooves, jingling bridles, and voices calling from the gate. The rest of our guests had arrived.

  The two counts and the duchess had apparently met on the road, and they all arrived together. For several minutes, there was a jumble of greetings, laughter, people running to and fro, and the constable taking the guests and their parties to the rooms prepared for them. The king and queen came out into the courtyard to welcome them. I stayed out of the way, wandering over to the north tower and its door locked only with a bolt, not with magic. I stayed there for half an hour while it grew darker and colder, but the old wizard never came.

  After half an hour, I heard the brass choir start playing Christmas carols and knew that dinner would shortly be served. The secret of the tower was safe for now from the old wizard. I hurried to the great hall to be formally introduced to the counts.

  One of the counts was fairly old, about the king’s age, and his wife was a round and smiling middle-aged woman who looked as I had originally expected the queen to look. Their sons, they told me, were off adventuring in the eastern kingdoms and had not been able to come home for Christmas.

  The other count was young, probably my age, and had come into his inheritance just last winter. He had beautiful alabaster skin, wavy chestnut hair (about the color mine would be if I hadn’t dyed it gray), and gold rings on every long finger. Looking at me imperiously from wide-spaced brown eyes, he had the look of mystery and authority I had always hoped I projected but knew I did not.

  I did the full bow to him as I had already done to the old count and his wife and to the duchess. The latter had actually put on a dress in honor of Christmas Eve. It was a lovely dark wine color that suited her well, but it was also exactly the same shade as what the queen was wearing, even though the two dresses were styled very differently. I noticed the cousins looking at each other sideways with little flarings of the nostrils. The duchess looked at me, however, with a small and somewhat ironical smile, as though interested in seeing my reaction to the counts.

  “So you have a new wizard,” said the young count to the king in what I was pleased to note was a high and rather nasal voice. “I myself would neve
r have one. I’d been hoping that when your old one retired you’d have the sense not to get another.”

  Since I had just finished bowing to him, and my predecessor was standing only ten feet away, this struck me as unusually rude, even for a member of the aristocracy, but he kept on talking about us as though we weren’t there. “My father kept a wizard-or he said he was a wizard, someone I think my father had picked up at a carnival somewhere-but as soon as I inherited, I sent him packing right away, you can be sure.”

  “We’ve always been very happy with our wizards,” said the king stiffly.

  “Is there anything in particular you object to about wizards?” asked my predecessor with a calmness that he was having trouble maintaining.

  “Everything about them is so, well, on the surface!” said the young count, waving his beautiful white hands. “Once you’ve seen an illusion or two, you have nothing left but vague talk about the powers of darkness and light, which someone like me sees through at once.”

  “I think you’re underestimating real wizardry,” continued my predecessor, with an evenness of tone I admired.

  “You’re the wizard who used to be here, aren’t you? My father told me about your illusions over dessert, back when he used to visit the king. But really, when you go beyond illusions, what do you have?”

  I turned him into a frog.

  There was total, horrified silence in the great hall as everyone stopped breathing. The only sound was the crackling of the great logs in the fireplace. Where the young count had stood a minute ago, a large green bullfrog squatted on the flagstones, looking up at us with human eyes. The eyes seemed confused and rather alarmed.