J. Calvin Pierce, page 76
“You are fortunate; you defy Ulda when she is distracted—perhaps unhinged. The rising waters eat at her domain. They threaten to engulf all that she has exerted herself to build and to perpetuate. She has invested Uldum with a great network of force—made it the seat of her power. She cannot bear to see it lost.”
“She would lose her power?”
“She would have to remove herself and everything she has in place. She would lose, if not force, at least much labor, and for a time she would not be the power she was.” Rhastopheris moved to a window that looked out toward the cliffs. “If the water rises to its former limits, Uldum will be nothing but another crumbling city crushed beneath the weight of the sea.”
Marcia said, “She told me her power was not derived. Can you tell me what that means?”
The demon glanced in Alexander’s direction before answering. “Thai, I fear, is a question you must ask of one who gives himself to the study of the old books.” He left the window and returned to the center of the room. “Or we may perhaps speak of these things together in the necromancer’s house, which rests above another ocean, one that is more stable than ours—or thought to be. It will be … easier there than here to have such a discussion.”
When Marcia spoke, it was in the manner of one who thinks aloud. “She called me ‘little sister.’” Rhastopheris caught her eye for an instant, then turned again to the necromancer.
“You are tired, old one, and this is no place for you to rest, to recover your strength, not when you might be so easily in your own home.”
“You are right, of course,” said Alexander. “We must all go.” He started to get up, but fell back against the cushions. “We will have a party,” he whispered, and began to cough.
“The lady should not go,” Rhastopheris said. “Ulda’s promise to watch her is one she will keep, at least while Marcia has more companions than she can protect, and you do not want Ulda to know where you make your home. I can return you to your keep with no help. I have trod that path a hundred times by your invitation. Invite me again, now, and we shall tread it together.”
Alexander nodded. Rhastopheris helped him to his feet. “Who else?” he asked. “The mage lives in solitude, as I do. I think he must have a companion for a time.”
Marcia pulled her thoughts from the multitude of unanswered questions she was accumulating, and concentrated instead on Alexander’s problem. When she asked him, Borphis agreed to go with the necromancer and stay until she found her way to him.
“In that, you will have no difficulty,” said Rhastopheris, “for you hold his names.”
Alexander said, “But you, dear girl, where will you go from here?”
“Home, I suppose,” said Marcia. “And then I have to find—”
“That would be not be wise,”—Rhastopheris said. “If Ulda watches you still, you should not lead her to your home.”
I just rent, Marcia smiled. “Too late, I’m afraid. It was in my home that she first found me.”
Suzy shook her head. “No. I was with her. You were wandering and the ring caught her attention.”
Rhastopheris smiled. Marcia wished he wouldn’t; his heavy, sharp teeth matched his air of refinement very poorly. “And this, old one,” he said to Alexander, “you will describe as chance, I suppose?”
Alexander gave a tired smile. “Lacking deeper understanding, yes, but I am willing to concede your point.” He brought his gaze back to Marcia. “Better somewhere else, dear girl …. I suppose I should not be so informal, now. Might you not rejoin the giant? Perhaps Father has turned up.”
“I had thought of that, but I don’t even know if I can find Breksin. I’ve never been to—what is it?—Devlin.”
Again Rhastopheris smiled his disquieting smile. “I don’t have a deep understanding of your methods.”
“That’s the problem,” Marcia said. “Neither do I.”
“Still,” the demon went on, “I believe if you focus your concentration on the one you seek, you will find him. One caution: Do not travel to another place within the Lower Regions. Once you do, Ulda may then say that the bargain has been satisfied, leaving her free to harry you if she wishes.”
“I understand. But what about Suzy?” She turned to the necromancer. “Can she stay with you as well?”
Alexander looked as delighted as his condition would permit. “A dreen? Of course. I have always—”
Suzy broke in on his enthusiastic whisper to address Marcia. “You might have left me to Ulda. Should have, I would say. You closed my form; that was ample recompense for my small service to you, which in any event I performed to effect my own release. Now I will stay with you until you no longer wish it.” She looked at the others one by one. “This I say in the presence of the mage of the Middle Regions and the little one of twelve names, and in the presence of the great lord of names unnumbered.”
“In any event,” Rhastopheris said to Marcia, “like you, I can travel with no more than two others.”
That left little else to be said, and in a few minutes, having made their good-byes, Marcia and Suzy were alone in the castle of Rhastopheris.
Suzy was silent briefly, then said, “Lulu, let’s do something. This place is dull.”
“Creepy, too,” said Marcia.
She took Suzy’s hand and began to allow the shift to occur. Together they moved forward into the gathering mist She saw the path that the others had taken, and saw as well that they had traveled on a different level than she used. When Rhastopheris had spoken of treading the path across the boundary, he had been speaking literally. They had walked an unearthly terrain, traversing the same realm in which, somewhere, the little mage of Uldum had his secret refuge.
Marcia found that when she focused her thoughts on Breksin, the path they traveled brought her closer to him. She could not see him, but only knew that he was nearby. When it seemed right to do so, she stepped forward, leading Suzy from the mist that surrounded them. Now she was in a … place from which she could survey her destination, just as she had when she had gone in search of Alexander.
But here there was no network of magical powers, no cage of force. Only in one area, at the edge of her view, were there workings to be seen—small flickerings of a lively, darting spell. Marcia moved closer. This was a strange, naive magic. She thought of witches, perhaps one of no great powers, like the woman who had treated her after the adventure with the little bloodsuckers.
But even that did not seem right. This magic was being deployed. The spells fluttered to and fro like cavorting wrens. Marcia moved closer yet, still with Suzy’s hand firmly in hers. She looked at her companion, then stepped forward through the final barrier of fog.
The boy was nearly hidden in the evening shadows. He was sitting by a large tree and staring intently in the direction of the nearest house. Marcia could just catch the sound of his boyish voice droning on as though he were singing the rhythm of a song but not the melody. With one hand he seemed to be keeping time with the tuneless music.
When he heard the sound of their approach, the boy jumped to his feet, snatching something from the ground beside him and holding it behind his back. He watched the two women take another step, then turned and started to run.
It took Suzy three strides to catch him. She snatched him off the ground. The boy didn’t make a sound as she carried him. Suzy put him down in front of Marcia.
Marcia peered at him in the darkness. “What are you doing?” she said.
“Nothing,” the boy whispered. “Just playing. Who are you?”
Marcia told him their names and asked his.
“Rickey. Chardric, really, but—”
“Well, Chardric the magician, what spells were you working?”
Rickey looked at the ground. “Just practicing,” he muttered.
“Oh? And what do you have in your hand?”
“Nothing.” He knit his brows in concentration, then smiled up at Marcia.
The magic was transparent. It involved a slight manipulation of the same fabric that Marcia passed through when she traveled between Regions, except that what the boy did seemed needlessly complicated to achieve such a trivial result. Marcia reached out her hand and pulled the coins from where he had hidden them. It looked like a stage magician’s trick, snatching things out of the air. Rickey stared at her with his mouth open.
“How did you do that?” he demanded. “Anyway, that’s my money.”
“I doubt that,” said Marcia. “I think it came from that house.”
“Are you a magician?”
Marcia thought for a moment. “I’m a witch,” she said.
“I thought witches did things with potions or something.”
“That’s not the kind of witch I am. Why are you stealing money?”
“I’m not! That’s my father’s house, except he’s dead, and now my uncle is going to make me work on the fishing boats, so I took some money to pay Jicker when he comes to get me in the morning, and that’ll make up for the money he has to give my uncle for me.”
Marcia looked down at Rickey. “Where is your mother?”
“With my father.” He wiped at his eyes with his sleeve. “I’m not going to stay here,” he said defiantly. “I’m going to be an apprentice to a great magician. He’s staying with my aunt and me. I found him on the beach.”
“A magician?”
“He was washed overboard in a storm. I found him and I’m going to get him to teach me magic. He already showed me this one spell.”
“A spell for stealing money?”
“No, no. It’s for hiding. He wrote—indited it for me and I learned it. Then I just changed it around a little. When I get it better, I’m going to show him.” He paused for a moment. “He says whilst.”
Marcia said, “Ah.”
“He’s from a great city and he lives in a palace and he works for a king. He’s real fat.”
“The magician?”
Rickey laughed. “No, the king. Rogan is kind of skinny. He doesn’t like food.”
“Rogan? Rogan the Obscure?”
“You know him? I told Aunt Edorra he was famous. Just like he said.”
The house was by itself, beyond the village in the direction of the sea. The woman who got up when they entered was a head taller than Suzy. Rickey introduced Marcia and Suzy and went skipping through an inner door before his aunt could stop him.
“Well,” said Edorra as she put water on for tea, “this is an odd place for travelers, miss. I don’t have much room, but I’ll work out some bedding for you here in the parlor. There’s grander houses in the village, but it’s a sour sort of place and I wouldn’t like to send you on.” She looked over her shoulder at them. “Have you eaten?” she asked.
“Not that you’d notice,” said Marcia earnestly, before she remembered herself. “Oh, but we don’t want to inconvenience you.” She noticed Suzy looking at her strangely.
At that moment, Rogan entered the room, shepherded by Rickey.
“Greetings, ladies,” he said guardedly. “Chardric tells me we are acquainted.”
“We haven’t met,” said Marcia. “But you know my friend Hannah, I believe?”
Rogan looked surprised and glanced down at Rickey. “Why, ah, yes. We are, that is, she—”
“And Daniel,” Marcia went on. “He and I are from the same city.”
“Felshalfen?” said Rogan hopefully.
“No. The other place.”
“Ah. I see.”
Marcia was distracted by Edorra, who was putting bread and cheese on the table. From the expression on Suzy’s face, Marcia doubted she would see much dabbing and nibbling from her friend tonight.
As they ate, Rogan told the story of how he came to be lost at sea.
“It was that idiot. Reffex,” Rogan said. “Completely lost his head. I can hardly wait to see him; I’m going to turn him into a frog.”
“Really?” said Rickey with a wide-eyed stare.
“What? No. That’s a joke.” Rogan looked at the ceiling. “I wish I could, though.”
Edorra said, “And I wish you could turn Dilmur into a frog.” She began to clear the table. “Or a man with a conscience. You might as well say he’s selling the boy, his own brother’s son.”
“He’s unpleasant, I admit,” said Rogan. “But if he would put Rickey out at a better trade than fishing, that would not be so bad.”
“I’m going to be a magician,” Rickey said in a fervent voice.
“Now, lad, I’ve tried to explain to you the matter of aptitude—talent.”
“He seems pretty talented to me,” said Marcia. She took the coins from her pocket. Rickey turned away from his aunt and kept his eyes on the floor as. Marcia described the magic he had wielded.
“But that’s impossible,” said Rogan indignantly.
Marcia fell a surge of impatience, almost anger. “I saw it, magician,” she said evenly. She raised one of the coins, holding it lightly by the tips of her fingers. She tilted the spectrum just enough to catch the fabric and dropped the coin out of sight.
Rogan stared at her. “Witches don’t do that,” he protested.
Marcia reached out and opened her hand. The coin dropped into her palm.
There ensued a lengthy discussion of just exactly what it was Rickey had done, followed by some demonstrations.
Rogan was flabbergasted. “My boy, you have learned seven years’ magic in a few days,” he said in a shaky voice. “It’s unheard of.”
“This is going to mean trouble,” Edorra said.
“No. Not at all,” said Rogan. “The only danger is if the talent isn’t disciplined.” He sent a stern look in Rickey’s direction. “The stronger the talent, the more volatile it is.”
“What’s that?”
Rogan said, “It means if your talent isn’t controlled, it could burn up. Just because you can do something, doesn’t mean it isn’t beyond you. You must master all the details, all the simple things.”
“That is not what I meant,” Edorra said. “I’m talking about the money. Dilmur is a great one for keeping up his books—counts his money every night before he goes to bed, he docs. And don’t think he doesn’t know every penny that’s there.”
“But why,” asked Rogan. “should that be trouble for you?”
“Because Dilmur keeps his money well tucked away. But Rickey grew up in that house, and knows the hiding places, that’s one thing. The other is, it would take a magician to get at those coins, and we,” she said with a level gaze at Rogan, “have the only magician in the village.”
“Surely.” said Rogan, “a few coins—”
From outside came the sound of a distant shout. Edorra looked up. “He’s bringing Jicker and the men with him,” she said. In a moment, voices could be heard approaching.
“I can hide the coins,” Rickey said. “They’ll never find them.”
“They won’t care, Rickey. Their minds are made up. Remember Wincie and those nets and lines. Look how he was punished for that, and punished harshly, when they all knew he didn’t do it. It makes them feel important to shout and rumble around.” Edorra looked at Rogan. He was making gestures and mumbling. “By the Daughters, man, what are you up to?”
“Rebuffs,” he said, looking startled. “They won’t just come striding in here.”
Marcia said, “Don’t bother.” She glanced at the lines of the spell and dismantled them with a thought.
“Hey!” Rogan looked helplessly down at his hands.
Moments later the door burst open. The first man through was tall with unruly dark hair, like Rickey’s, Marcia noticed, as Edorra swept the boy behind her.
“Dilmur!” she shouted. “What do—”
Dilmur’s face was dark with anger. Four or five men piled into the room behind him. “All right, boys. We know what we’re looking for. If anyone gets in your way, just give them a kick.” His eye fell on Suzy, “Except for this one, of course.” The men’s laughter rattled against the walls. Dilmur pointed at Rickey. “And Jicker, there’s your prentice. You’ll take him tonight and we’ll settle in the morning.”
Marcia stood up. She felt oddly removed, as one might who was observing events rather than participating in them.
“Don’t get in the way, girlie,” Dilmur shouted.
How simple to stop his heart. How his mouth would work, his eyes go wide with stupid terror.
“How far is it to Devlin?” she asked in a quiet voice.
Dilmur flashed an ugly grin. “Well, boys, I think we have a pair of Devlin whores come to visit. We’ll have to make them welcome.”
He would expire in a flood of pain and fear.
“But how far is it?” Marcia asked again.
The man called Jicker spoke up. “Even with the poor winds, less than a full day.” He looked around at his companions with a foolish smile. “If you want to arrange a passage, I’ll be glad to oblige.”
Marcia looked at him calmly. “You will be taking us tonight.” She turned to the magician. “You are accepting the boy as an apprentice?”
Dilmur had been looking on with a befuddled grin. At this, he and the others began shouting angrily. Rogan was able to quiet them with a gesture. “Gentlemen,” he said, “I believe you are in the process of making a profound error.”
“Well, let’s see your magic, then. Granddad,” Dilmur shouted, then laughed as the others raised a din.
Marcia leaned toward Suzy and whispered something, pointing at Dilmur and Jicker. Suzy nodded. She walked around the two men. There were four others behind them. With a sudden motion, Suzy reached out, bundled them together, and dragged them roughly through the door.
Dilmur and Jicker stared after them, then turned to face Marcia.
She said, “Let’s arrange that passage now, shall we?”
Chapter 22
It was not much after dawn when Jicker’s boat arrived at Devlin and put its passengers down on a beach of broken shells. Edorra protested when Suzy shouldered their hastily prepared bundles of clothing and other belongings. She seemed determined to pretend she had not seen the pretty young woman handle four angry ruffians as though they had been unruly children.
