Liavek 3

by Will Shetterly

  "I been here before," Sessi whispered.

  Rusty set his hand on her shoulder. "Yes. The Magician's. He sent you to live with Mom and Dad, thinking they had no children. "

  "I like him. He's got cats."

  "I suppose so," he answered, and the conversation suddenly seemed very strange. "Well. Let's get the ball and go, hey?"

  "Sure, Rusty." The girl ran along the flagstones. She reached for the ball, then straightened up, leaving the ball where it lay. "Something's funny about the door."

  ''I'm sure it is, kid." He grabbed the ball.

  Sessi stood before the brass gargoyle. She reached out to pat its nose, and before Rusty could stop her, her hand passed through the illusion. She gasped. "Something's wrong, Rusty!"

  "I know," he said carefully, moving toward her. "It's my birthday. I should be asleep in my own bed. I should not be on Wizard's Row, trespassing on The Magician's lawn. Let's—"

  Sessi stepped through the illusion of The Magician's door.

  "I hate kids," Rusty whispered. He breathed deeply, touched his short sword with the back of the hand holding the ball, and entered 17 Wizard's Row.

  •

  For Trav, several things happened so quickly that he could not place them in order. His thoughts were of investiture, of coercing his birth luck into his favorite vessel. The birth luck struggled against his will, as it always did, but he felt himself close to success. Then Gogo seemed to start, or maybe her abrupt cessation of motion only seemed to have begun with a tiny movement, the slightest anticipation of surprise. Her words ceased, and so did the flow of power from her spell of youth. The sky fell upon him, as if it would crush him into the sofa. His attempt at investiture collapsed. The birth luck returned to his helpless body, but he did not have the strength to try to use it.

  The light in the room grew dimmer, then disappeared just as three shadows seemed to appear. His mouth fell open, but he could not speak. He lay motionless. Something in his mind shrieked in fear. Something else said, This is death. Accept it.

  •

  In the crowded office, the three Tichenese sorcerers looked at the withered thing that was The Magician. "He still breathes," said the short man.

  "For a while," Djanhiz said.

  "He has all his teeth," the short man said. ''I'd think that he would lose his teeth."

  "He took very good care of them."

  "Ah." They listened to Trav's slow breaths. "I could smother him," the short man offered.

  "No," the tall man said.

  "No," Djanhiz agreed. "We are not murderers."

  The short man looked at her in surprise, then covered his surprise and said nothing. The tall man spread his fingers wide before them. "Our hands are hardly clean."

  "No," Djanhiz agreed. "Nor am I proud of this. But I will be proud of success." She glanced at The Magician. "I wonder if he still lives because his birth luck is within him? Or if it is only that death has not yet recognized its opportunity?"

  "Does it matter?" said the smaller man. Djanhiz shrugged. "No. He cannot live much longer. We will wait."

  •

  The hall was dark, lit primarily by light reflected from a far room. The illusion of the closed front door remained inside the house; either the magic that created it also blocked light, or it preserved the illusion very thoroughly. Rusty walked in, wanting to tiptoe in hopes of leaving undisturbed and wanting to stomp so the residents would know he did not come as a thief or an assassin. He opened his mouth to call Sessi's name.

  Movement toward the middle of the hall proved to be the girl, huddled against a door. Her motion was the bringing of her finger to her mouth for silence. In spite of himself, he obeyed as he came up to her. He reached for her shoulder to grab her and take her away when he heard Tichenese voices from The Magician's study.

  That was not odd. Many Tichenese lived in Liavek, and many visited for reasons of politics or trade. The Tichenese embassy was not far from here. Rusty had spent a year in Tichen; he respected the people and their culture. He also knew enough of their language to be surprised when a woman said, "Chiano Mefini failed the Empire, but we will not. Indeed, The Magician's death restores glory to his name."

  "Perhaps," a man said. "What of the woman?"

  "We will let her live. Perhaps she will inherit The Magician's title. It will be good for the head witch of this little nation to have known failure at Tichenese hands."

  "And now?"

  "Now we wait. I've completed a spell to ensure privacy. No one, wizard or other, will be able to enter the house until one of us leaves."

  Happy birthday to me, Rusty thought.

  Danger or caution or surprise had left him unable to do more than listen. Still considering the implications of the woman's words, Rusty mimicked Sessi's gesture and prayed she would understand to be silent. He tugged Sessi's shoulder. She shook her head, but when he tugged again, she began to follow.

  Halfway to the door, a floorboard creaked loudly under his sandal.

  Three people in bulky robes raced into the hall. One whirled, pointing back into the study and saying to another, "Very well. Kill The Magician."

  Rusty pushed Sessi toward the door. "Run!" Would anyone's departure cause the woman's spell to fail? If so, Sessi could bring someone back....Rusty felt her ball still in his hand, so he flung it hard down the hall at the head of the Tichenese returning to The Magician's office, It hit and the man fell, and Rusty praised his birth luck.

  Rusty spun to flee and something seemed to envelop his legs. Sessi stopped before the door, crying, "Rusty!"

  "Go on!" he shouted at her. He drew his sword, knowing that steel was useless against wizards. "Run, Sessi! Get help!" The woman who seemed to be the Tichenese leader walked toward him. She smiled grimly as she raised a carnelian ring.

  He slashed at her hand. She dodged, laughed, and said something quickly, and his sword arm was caught in whatever held his legs. Watching the ring approach his chest, he yelled again, "Run, Sessi! Get out! Get help!"

  At the edge of his vision, he saw Sessi leap through the illusion of the closed door. The spell dissolved, and the hall brightened with admitted sunlight.

  The tall male Tichenese ran past them to catch Sessi halfway down The Magician's walk. She screamed and kicked in his grasp, and he carried her back with difficulty.

  The Tichenese woman turned her hand to touch Rusty's chest with her palm rather than the ring. "What have you gained, Liavekan? A moment of time and nothing more." Casually, she tapped Sessi with the ring as the tall man passed by them, and the girl stiffened in his grasp.

  "Damn you—"

  "No," the woman said, touching his lips with her finger. "You've been nuisance enough. I'll restore my spell about this house, and then—"

  A small red bird glided through the open door.

  •

  The Magician wrestled with the question of what had happened to him, to his house, to Gogo, to Gogo, to Gogo.... Something in him said, Live! For her, live! And something answered, How? I'm old, old…. He tried with one supreme effort to raise himself and he felt pain in his chest.

  He relaxed then, and the voice that said, Die now, Trav, die gracefully, for it's time, was pleased. It said, Yes. Accept this. It's been a good life. And the voice that said, Live, Trav! Live for her, for yourself, for your city! was pleased. It said, Yes. Save your strength. Relax. Breathe shallowly. Think. You are The Magician of Liavek, Trav Marik. Survival is success. Survive.

  •

  As Rusty watched, two tiny things leaped from the stiff red bird. They landed on the hall tiles, becoming an old Tichenese woman and a nomad boy, both dressed in dark blue robes. The boy immediately ran to pick up the bird, which seemed to be a toy of lacquered paper. The three Tichenese in desert robes bowed very low to the old woman, the tallest man first placing Sessi carefully on the floor. Rusty thought the old woman must be their leader, come to view their success.

  He began to wonder if this was true when the young Tichenese wo
man said, "Teacher, this is not your concern. I—"

  The old woman gestured for silence, then turned slightly away to accept the toy bird from the boy. As it began to shrink even smaller in the old woman's palm, the young woman snapped her carnelian ring toward the old woman's side.

  Rusty grabbed the young woman's wrist with his free left hand. She exhaled loudly, almost a bark, in frustration or annoyance.

  The old woman placed the red bird in her pocket, turned, and smiled at them both. For a moment, Rusty wondered whether he had done the best or the worst he could do by acting.

  The old woman flicked her hands as if flinging water from them. The three Tichenese in desert robes disappeared. Tiny things like black beads lay where each had stood. The nomad boy gathered the three beads and presented them to the old woman. She nodded to Rusty and suddenly his limbs were free.

  "Thank you," she said. Before he could reply, the woman and the boy entered The Magician's office.

  •

  Power coursed suddenly about Trav, as though he were immersed in a pool of the raw essence of magic. His eyes opened. Cool air filled his lungs. He smelled foreign scents, perfume and sweat. He sat up, starting to reach out about him to learn where he was, and then he could see. Shapes resolved themselves in instants. Gogo sat before him with an expression of desperate relief.

  He caught her, or maybe he threw himself into her arms; he could not tell. After a moment, he looked around his office and saw they were not alone. An old woman watched with something like cold approval on her face. She wore a silk robe of a blue that seemed darker than black, and after a second, Trav recognized her.

  He released Gogo to lean forward in a deep bow, bringing the fingers of both hands to his forehead. "Bejing Ki, Old Teacher of the Guild of Power. I would never have expected mercy from you, though I thank you for it."

  The woman's face wrinkled into a smile. "Trav The Magician. This is not mercy; this is an attempt to restore honor. You must forgive me."

  "If you will explain what has happened," Trav said carefully, "I think I will forgive anything."

  "Explanations later," Gogo said. "We have an investiture to complete."

  The old woman lifted both eyebrows. "You hope to succeed, with so little time remaining?"

  "He is The Magician," Gogo replied.

  Trav set his hand on Gogo's. "And I have friends."

  •

  In the hall, Sessi suddenly leaped up, crying, "Rusty, what—"

  He caught her. "'S'all right, Sessi. I think. C'mon, let's—"

  A short, scowling, dark-haired man in a green tunic stood by the front door. The man touched both hands to his forehead and bowed low. "He says you're owed an explanation, too. I don't think so. Come."

  "Who's he?" Reluctantly, Rusty sheathed his short sword.

  "The Magician, of course. Owes me an explanation first. No matter. Come."

  The man opened one of the many hall doors, gesturing them into a sitting room, then brought refreshments and left again. Sessi whispered, "That's the door thing."

  "The servant?"

  She nodded, then began to feast on honeycakes and lemonade. A gray and white cat hid under her chair, as though it had not decided whether it approved of these visitors. A cream-colored cat climbed onto Rusty's shoulder, where it purred contentedly, occasionally drooling a bit.

  The sullen man opened the hall door again and the old Tichenese woman and the boy entered. Rusty stood to salute in the southern fashion and the two bowed. "An explanation soon," the woman said. The gray and white cat brushed against her ankles and she smiled.

  Half an hour passed while Rusty and Teacher Ki talked of Tichen and Liavek and the importance of free trade. Sessi and the boy found a shah set. Ignoring the board, they improvised some game with its pieces, and bits of their conversation occasionally interrupted that of the adults: "An' the whip lady says, 'Hi, Master Emperor, I like sausages and beans a lot!'"

  Trav, Gogo, and the scowling man returned. Trav made introductions: "Mistress Gogoaniskithli and Master Didieskilor..."

  "Gogo and Didi will suffice," Gogo said.

  "For her," said the scowling man.

  "... Lieutenant Lian Jassil and his sister by adoption, Sessi Jassil..."

  "Hi," said Sessi.

  "...Mistress Bejing Ki, Teacher of the Guild of Power, and Chiba of the Tilandre clans."

  The Old Teacher nodded. "l owe all of you an apology, I fear." She opened her hand, showing three dark beads. "These hold the souls of my Young Teacher, Djanhiz ola Vikili, and two of her aides." She glanced at Trav. "How much shall I tell before these outsiders?"

  "Enough to explain what has happened."

  "Very well." The three beads disappeared and the woman laced her fingers in her lap. "Some time ago, the previous Young Teacher, Chiano Mefini, laid a trap for The Magician. It failed, but in the course of events, he learned several of The Magician's secrets. The Magician allowed him to live, after he took a vow on his life and luck never to reveal those secrets."

  "A vow which he seems to have broken."

  "Not by choice, Trav The Magician. There are factions in the Guild of Power, as there are factions in any group. Djanhiz led the most radical of those. When Chiano returned to Tichen in disgrace, he gave up the title of Young Teacher, left our guild, and turned his attention from the study of magic to the study of science. Djanhiz had accompanied him to Liavek, and she knew that he had learned more about The Magician than he had said, so she forced a spell of compulsion upon him and he told her all he knew."

  "It was not his fault, then."

  "Perhaps not. Perhaps he thought if he had been more careful, he would not have been trapped by her. He escaped from the trap she had left him in and came to me. After he told me what had happened, he willed his death."

  "I am sorry."

  "As am I. Still, I came to preserve our honor, if I could. You needn't worry about your secrets, Trav The Magician. My apprentice and I have both taken the same vow that Chiano took. So long as Liavek and Tichen are rivals, we will be your opponents, but we will not use Chiano's knowledge against you."

  The Magician nodded. "Thank you. What of the three who attacked us?"

  "I will take them to Tichen, where they will have a choice. They will each bind their luck forever into a thing of my choosing, and they will accept a magical compulsion to never tell what they know of you. If they do not, I shall transform them into beads again and throw those beads into the ocean."

  "I see."

  Rusty said, "You both seem rather trusting, for enemies."

  All the magicians in the room stared at him and he said, "Urn, I mean—"

  Trav said, "Please. Rivals."

  Bejing Ki laughed. "You are not a magician, Lieutenant Jassil. You wonder what honor is among magicians? I will tell you this. We may have too much power for any human to wield. Even young Chiba could, with time and great effort, call tidal waves or hurricanes. There are not many in the world of our power, but there are enough. If wizards did not accept constraints, a war of magicians could destroy the world. You understand?"

  Rusty nodded slowly.

  "I can think of no proper reward for your part in this, Lieutenant Jassil," the old woman said. "But gold is usually appreciated." She drew a purse from the pocket of her robe and gave it to him. "As for your adopted sister, you may tell your parents that Bejing Ki will sponsor her at any of Tichen's universities, when she is of age."

  "Thank you." The explanation seemed to be at an end, so Rusty stood and took Sessi's hand. "I don't think we deserve your gifts, or if we do, it's only because I was too stupid to stay in on my birthday, but—"

  "Your birthday?" The Magician said.

  "Yes. Every fourth of Fruit. Thank the Twin Forces the next is a year away."

  ''Today is the third."

  Rusty stared. "But all the coincidences!" He hesitated, then said, "The secret that these people learned was that today is your birthday."

  The Magician nodde
d.

  "I won't tell anyone."

  "I know."

  "Then I was affected by your luck, not my own? That's incred—"

  "No," said Gogo. "I can still feel birth luck in this room, and Trav's birth hours have ended."

  Rusty looked at every face in the room.

  Sessi smiled shyly. "Do I get a present?"

  "Before the Paint Is Dry" by Kara Dalkey

  COLOR CAME AGAIN to the Market of Liavek as the street merchants returned from their naps, unrolling their bright silk booth awnings and laying out their wares on patterned carpets. The sun was already hidden behind the taller buildings, making the Fruit-month heat a little less intense. In the distance, the eerie drone of conch-shell trumpets from the tower of the Black Temple called those of that faith to prayer, over the clatter and din of the merchants and the bellows of obstreperous camels.

  Strolling with easy, long-legged strides, Aritoli ola Silba looked at booths of Ombayan fruit, Tichenese porcelain, and brass Zhir lanterns. A warm wind redolent of cinnamon, garlic, and sweat tousled his shoulder-length, wavy black hair. He was pleased the woman on his arm had chosen to wear pale gold that day, as it did not clash with his green silk blouse.

  "'Merchant Councilor Tafiya Mielo'" said the woman, her amber eyes flashing above a brilliant smile in a ginger-hued face. "I like the sound of that. Such an impressive tone it has."

  "I am sure you will wear the title well, Tafi," said Aritoli. "Do you intend to keep running your import company while you are a councilor?"

  "Of course. Merchant Councilors are expected to have interests to defend while in office. The Lord Councilors don't give up their estates and heritage when selected for the Levar's Council, do they?"

  "True, they certainly do not. Though to hear First Lord Ezvi ola Thinoli speak of it—"

  "You listen too much to rumor, Ari. It isn't true that he doesn't approve of Merchant Councilors. Ezvi's been perfectly polite to me. Oh, look over here. I want you to see these."