The Wizard of Karres wok-2

by Mercedes Lackey

  The Sedmons continued without a pause for breath—easy for them, of course, since they could speak in turns. "I suspect, although I would have preferred them not to be involved, that their Wisdoms of Karres will match that in the near future."

  That threw Pausert right off his moral stride. Match ten million maels?

  "I've lately gotten the feeling," said the second Sedmon, looking pointedly at Captain Pausert, "that they don't entirely trust the Daal of Uldune, though I can't imagine why. That's me, by the way. So we propose one-third ownership."

  "Of course you will retain day-to-day control," said Sedmon, smoothly.

  Pausert was still mentally stumbling. Even cut in half . . . Match five million maels? HOW?

  Himbo Petey stared at the Sedmons, his eyes resembling the proverbial saucers. Then, turned his very wide, blue-eyed gaze on the others. "Uldune . . . and Karres! I should have guessed. It wasn't stage magic at all, was it?"

  Goth was still-faced. The Leewit fidgeted. Then, the little blond witch half-wailed: "It's not cheating to use the real thing!" She glared about, the surface belligerence in her eyes covering not-so-veiled anxiety. "Well, it's not. I don't think."

  Ethulassia barked a laugh. "Ha! An interesting question, that. Our magicians will probably spend a year wrangling over the professional ethics involved." The Dame bestowed a fond and approving look upon the Leewit. "Never you mind, dearie. Even if those cranky magicians crab and complain, you'll always have a place in the thespians' company."

  The Leewit beamed. Goth's face still held no expression, but her brown eyes seemed to lighten a bit.

  Pausert kept his mouth shut. Five millions maels? HOW?

  If didn't occur to him until some time later that, in addition to his—their?—other talents, the Daal of Uldune would be a superb card player. And he had just bluffed the captain right out of the hand by simply cranking up the stakes.

  For the first time since the disastrous fight, Himbo Petey let his round face slip into the creases of his familiar smile. "It is against magicians' union rules, as a matter of fact. Says so right there in Section III, Article 1, Clause 3(f): 'no use of exotic mental powers to imitate stage magic and fakery.' " He glanced about the area. "But since there are no members of the magicians' union here . . . Well, if you don't tell them, I won't."

  He did something totally unlike himself, then. He took the waxed end of one of his proud mustachios and chewed it.

  Everyone was silent, waiting. Then he pulled it out and twirled it in a familiar manner. Nodded abruptly. Took a deep breath, knelt on the floor and began picking up the premier deluxe-box tickets he'd scattered about.

  "Well, come on. All of you! We'll be needing these. Collect them up before someone stands on them. We can't waste funds by throwing tickets on the floor." He turned to Pausert and waved a handful of tickets at him. "I'll be looking to Karres to provide us with a counter-weight to Uldune. They're notorious criminals, you know, the lot of them." Then he waved the tickets at the two Daals. "And you will have to keep an eye on the witches. Their reputation is no more savory than yours."

  "We have been trying to do that."

  "It's less easy than we would like," said the other. "Do we have a deal, then?"

  Pausert was uncomfortably aware that the Venture's account stood at four hundred thousand maels in credit. That once-magnificent amount seemed measly now, when compared to the resources the Daal of Uldune had on call. "Well . . ."

  Goth interrupted him smoothly. "I reckon Karres will buy in, Sedmon—if we can get through to the Imperial Capital in time for the Winter Carnival. But you'll just have to wait for our share of the money until then. And help us get there."

  Pausert knew that if they didn't get there, it wouldn't matter if Karres agreed or not.

  Himbo Petey nodded. "I think we have a deal."

  "You're undervaluing the Petey, Byrum and Keep," said Dame Ethulassia, her brassy voice miraculously returning. "She's more than just a lattice ship. More than a mere showboat. She's a body of Artistes!"

  The Incredible Bosom made a grand entrance. Ethulassia put a hand on Himbo's shoulder, as he knelt and gathered tickets. "The Greatest Show in the Galaxy, with real dramatic and artistic merit. She's worth at least twice that!"

  The two Sedmons looked at Hulik do Eldel. Looked at the hand on Himbo Petey's shoulder. The nails were red, and there were a number of rings studded with improbable diamonds on the fingers, and a vast clatter of gold-in-appearance bracelets on the plump wrist. But the grip was a firm one.

  "A point," one of them acknowledged, "but only valid so long as the component parts of the show are kept solidly together." He cocked an eye at his clone, who picked up the train of thought flawlessly.

  "Precisely. So I think—a matter of simple fiscal prudence—that our offer should be contingent on Petey, Byrum and Keep being maintained as a family enterprise."

  The eyes of the two Sedmons, like gun barrels on a single turret, swiveled back and forth from Himbo to Ethulassia. "The deal hinges on an imminent marriage. A young Petey to take over the reins one day. Otherwise who knows what we might get?"

  "The sooner the better," agreed Hulik, doing her best—not entirely successfully—to disguise her glee. "Starship captains are empowered to perform marriages, aren't they, Captain Pausert?"

  Pausert nodded. "Indeed," he said sententiously. "We're often called on to perform the rite. It is legally binding."

  It was a pleasure to see Dame Ethulassia doing a very good imitation of a fish suddenly pulled from the water. For once in her life, she wasn't acting.

  Himbo Petey got up from his ticket collecting. He was quite a lot shorter than the Leading Lady. "Ethy is married to her Art," he said, in a tone which was an odd combination of humility and sarcasm. "I don't even understand it half the time."

  Ethulassia's gaping mouth snapped shut. She bestowed upon Himbo a look that was its own peculiar combination: indignation, calculation, amusement, and . . .

  Something else. Something quite warm, in fact, if Pausert didn't miss his guess.

  "Just as I don't understand the mystical significance of that mustache of yours," she said, a bit acidly. "However—"

  She struck a truly dramatic pose. The Incredible Bosom soared to impossible heights. "We must all make sacrifices for the common good."

  The tone was tragic—but Pausert noticed that the bejeweled hand never left Himbo's shoulder. Never even twitched.

  "He's not such a bad old dope," the Leewit said gruffly. "You could do worse."

  For a moment, there was an awkward pause. Everyone did their best to look somewhere else, sure and certain that the brash little witch would continue the thought: You DID do worse—recently.

  Whether she would have said it or not, would never be known. The Dame, after all, was a lady of many parts.

  Ethulassia laughed, easily and throatily. "Oh, sweetie, you can say that again! I hate to say it, but that bum Vonard probably wasn't even the worst."

  The Incredible Bosom vanished magically. There stood before them, now, just a quite attractive woman of middle years—still with a most impressive bust—her pleasant face lined with much experience. The look she gave Himbo was a fond one, and her hand squeezed his shoulder.

  "We'll consider it a marriage of convenience, Himbo, how's that?"

  He nodded solemnly, though his eyes seemed to twinkle a bit.

  The same twinkle that was in the Dame's eye, in fact. "Of course," she mused, "we'll have to figure out how a marriage of convenience manages to produce the heir our ruthless financial backers demand. A desperate situation. But . . . I dare say two experienced and stalwart troupers like you and me can manage to pull it off."

  "Imagine so," huffed Himbo, rising to his feet. "In fact, a notion has already come to me."

  He glanced towards that section of the wreckage which had once—and might still—contained his stateroom. "This clever witchly trick of faking fakery . . . it has possibilities applied elsewhere, you know?"<
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  * * *

  Hulik do Eldel was the maid of honor. Mannicholo, the best man, in a face of startling pinkness. And the Leewit would have been a flower girl, except that she had a newly broken collarbone from trying to ride Mannicholo's unicycle for the occasion. She was going to have to endure strapping and an hour a day in the bone-growth-promoter for the next two weeks.

  * * *

  She was very grumpy about it. "Back on Karres someone coulda done a bone-meld."

  Goth spoke the usual serene, philosophical phrases spoken in the presence of those recuperating from injury and illness. The Leewit glared at her.

  "You!" She slapped her hands on the rim of the growth-promoter. "Just happy that she won't be sniffing around the captain any more! Can't fool me."

  Goth's serenity seemed untouched. "Don't be silly. Though, now that you bring it up, I notice that Himbo and Ethulassia disappeared right after the wedding."

  "Course!" sniffed the Leewit. "They're sweet on each other. I always knew. Probably been for years. People are stupid."

  CHAPTER 26

  "This is all very well, Captain," said Hantis worriedly. "But the lattice ship will take weeks to repair, at best. We need to move on if we're to get to the Empress in time."

  The captain tried to focus his thoughts on the business at hand. He'd been completely preoccupied making sure his part of the wedding went off satisfactorily. Despite his public boast, Pausert had never had any occasion to perform a captain's marriage before. He was just grateful that the little vatch hadn't showed up to amuse itself at his expense. It been active enough in the last fight, but it had disappeared since.

  "Well, what I had in mind," said Pausert slowly, "was getting the Venture free from the lattice and heading onward on our own. All the old ship needs now is some fuel. And it looks like we have the credit to fuel her up, and to replace her with a hulk. Maybe we can talk Himbo into faking our presence here for a while. The ISS will come looking again, even if I think we've dealt with the Agandar's pirates once and for all."

  Goth nodded. "Be good to have our own ship again, Captain."

  The Leewit looked across at the hive of activity that was the repair program on the lattices of the PBK. "I guess," she said, at least half-regretfully. "Nice to be in the circus for a while, but home is best. I guess."

  It was curious, thought Pausert, as they walked over to talk to Himbo Petey, that the little fair-haired scrap of a gray-eyed witch should regard the old Venture as "home." Her real home was Karres, after all, along with Toll and Pausert's great uncle Threbus. The captain had stayed at her parents' house when he'd made his one and only visit to the world of Karres.

  True, Goth and the Leewit's world wasn't the easiest place to find, let alone visit, the way it hopped around the Galaxy. A bit like the Venture in that way. And it was a very witchy place. Very like the Venture in that way, these days! Now that he thought about it.

  Himbo Petey was visibly shocked at the news. He glanced at Ethulassia, lounging nearby on a divan, and tugged at his mustachios. "You can't leave! We agreed to take you all the way to the Imperial Capital. And I'm a man of my word, Captain Pausert. Besides, the act of the Great Escapologist Aron is famous! You're one of our most popular shows. People expect to see you. You're a star. I could stretch to a bigger contract . . ."

  Pausert got the distinct feeling that most of that little speech was spoken by rote, while Himbo gathered his thoughts. Just for starters, while the captain's escapologist act was certainly no financial drain on Petey, Byrum and Keep, it was hardly "one of our most popular shows."

  Himbo paused, looking at them with a considering eye. "But there's more to this than just money, isn't there?" he said abruptly. "I suppose money doesn't matter that much to people who can buy into the PB and K to the tune of ten million maels. There's something big going on that I'm not part of, and not supposed to know about."

  He looked at them like an expectant bird. No one said anything, so he went on. "You know, all the kids in the galaxy dream of running away to Vaudevillia. I was born on Vaudevillia, and I couldn't wait for the Petey Byrum and Keep to take off for anywhere else. I dreamed of going to Karres, because there is supposed to be real magic there." He sighed. "Well. I can't stop you. I wish I could, to be honest. You've paid off your debts. Actually, I think I owe you a little. Ethy'll have to check the books. We're going on to the Capital anyway."

  He stood up from his cluttered desk, and patted the two girls awkwardly on the shoulder. "Remember: if your uncle the captain is nasty to you two, there is always a place for you on the old Petey B." He looked sternly at the Leewit. "But no more riding unicycles."

  She stuck her tongue out at him. But there was a quiver in her chin. The Leewit loved the Greatest Show in the Galaxy.

  "Make you a deal, Showmaster," said Goth, looking at the Leewit. "If everything works out, we'll arrange for the Petey B to do a show on Karres. You'd be the first ever."

  Himbo smiled from ear to ear and put out a plump hand. "It's a deal, lady."

  "Huh. Lady," muttered the Leewit. But she also stuck out a hand and shook the Showmaster's hand. She didn't even squirm too much when Ethulassia hugged and kissed her.

  "I'm sure Karres can't wait for a dose of culture," said the Dame. "It will be a great day for them."

  Privately, Captain Pausert thought that the people of Karres, living in their tranquil houses in the forest, with their wonderful music, might just show the statuesque leading lady another side of culture. But he thought that the witches would probably like the circus side. A lot of the witch-children might like it too much, in fact. He could foresee a lot of runaways.

  He said as much to Goth and the Leewit on the way back to the Venture.

  The Leewit glanced at him as if he were an imbecile who'd just issued an especially mindless statement.

  "Well, sure. What you expect."

  Goth shrugged. "It's really a lot safer than most adventures young witches get into. Remember where you found us?"

  Pausert grunted. "Um. Point."

  The Leewit giggled. "Half of the younger ones will want to go on a trip with the Petey B. Old Ethy will be pulling her hair out, never mind her wig off, after a week or two."

  "I wouldn't worry, Captain," said Goth. "Witches can look after themselves. Besides, Himbo is good people. So's the Dame and Richard Cravan. And it is good cover. Witchy stuff on a showboat doesn't stand out. That's why I reckon Karres will be happy to buy into the lattice ship. You don't look for the real thing in a shipload of fake magicians and trickery merchants." She rubbed the tip of her nose. "Have to reach a private understanding with the magicians' union, of course. We don't want them mad at us. Some of their skills aren't all that fake."

  Pausert thought about it, then nodded. "I guess you're right. It would be a good way to do a lot of Karres' work in future."

  "What I thought," said Goth, looking up at him with those big brown eyes.

  "Goth is sweet on the captain!" jibed the Leewit. Then the little witch scampered off.

  "You just wait," said Goth. But Pausert noticed that she didn't bother to run after the Leewit to chastise her. And it occurred to him that "you just wait" wasn't necessarily a threat aimed at the younger sister. It hadn't been spoken like a threat, certainly; just stated in that serene tone of voice that came so naturally to Goth, when she contemplated the workings of fate.

  The captain's estimate of just how seriously he ought to take Goth's assumption they'd eventually get married cranked up another notch. He was beginning to understand how his great uncle Threbus must have felt, many years before, when Toll made the same confident prediction.

  Pausert chewed on the matter for a time, as they walked together in silence, for the first time giving it some serious thought. It wasn't as if the prospect bothered him, after all. In fact . . . he was beginning to find himself sharing Goth's opinion that there ought to be some way klatha could affect the aging process.

  But, if there was, he'd never heard o
f any. So, since they were nearing the ship, he just dismissed the whole matter from his mind. Whatever happened, it was a matter for the future.

  * * *

  At the ship they met up with the Sedmons. "Well?" said one of the two. They both had their arms around Hulik do Eldel. That was something Captain Pausert was still getting used to. He always felt as if he were seeing double around the cloned Sedmons. Hulik seemed to accept it, though. She'd once told the captain that she didn't think she'd ever meet a man she would love enough to marry. Apparently, in her own inimitable style, the do Eldel had found a solution to the problem.

  "We're going to have to split up and each try to reach the Empress Hailie," he announced, "since we're running out of time. I think, Hulik, you'd better travel with the Daal. If you get through, at least you can get the Imperial Navy pulled off our back."

  The Sedmons nodded, clearly not inclined to argue the point.

  Hulik nodded also. "I don't want to desert you, Captain. But I was going to ask if you'd mind if we did that. I think I should keep an eye on him. Both of him," she added impishly.

  * * *

  The Venture and the Daal's Thunderbird made quiet, low-fuss departures that night. Darkness would not shield them from watching instrumentation, but it might hide their departure from human spies. Even instruments might not spot the Thunderbird, actually. The Daal's ship was equipped with the very best antidetection gear available.

  The best that they'd been able to do for the Venture, on the other hand, was adding a few mock-ups from the Dame's props, which slightly changed the outline of the ship. If whatever watchers there were—and by now the captain was sure that there must be some—didn't see Pausert's trademark wobbly take off, and didn't have instruments tracking, then they were away, at least until daybreak.

  No atmospheric revolt-ships rose after them, at least. The Leewit left off manning the rear turret of the nova guns and came back to the Venture's control room. She was rubbing her shoulder. "You'll kill us all yet with these take offs, Captain," she complained. "My shoulder hurts. And I'm bored already and we've only just left the circus."