Night of Madness

Chapter Forty-two

“Where are we?” Hanner asked as he struggled to regain his composure.

“I quite literally cannot answer that completely, even if I wanted to,” Ithinia said. “You are in a meeting place that is accessible only to the Wizards’ Guild; that’s all you need to know.” Hanner tried to reach out with his magic, and felt nothing at all. He was as powerless as if the Night of Madness had never happened.

“You’ve removed my warlockry,” he said. “I didn’t know that was possible.”

That changed everything. If warlocks could be turned back to ordinary people, then the Calling could be averted, and Lord Azrad’s fears assuaged, and order restored...

Ithinia’s next words dashed that hope. “Itisn’t possible, so far as we know,” she said. “Warlockry doesn’t work here, but when you return to the World it will return, and you will be a warlock once again, at the same level as before.”

“Oh.”

That was different, and less encouraging-but still interesting. Perhaps the wizards could provide a refuge for warlocks who had reached the nightmare threshold and begun to hear the Calling.

“Have youtried to turn warlocks back?” Hanner asked.

“Of course we have,” Ithinia said, visibly annoyed. “We’ve been doing intensive research on that question since the Night of Madness itself. We tried the Spell of Reversal, Javan’s Restorative, the Ethereal Entrapment, healing spells, hypnotic spells, cleansings, holdings, rectifications, instrumental, extractives, transformations, and regressions-multiple trials of each, some of them in slowed or stopped time. We’ve consulted with other magicians; herbalists and theurgists and sorcerers and demonologists couldn’t even do as well as we did. Witches seem to have come nearest to success, and the Brotherhood’s experiments are still continuing, but so far, it appears that once someone becomes a warlock, nothing will change him back. A large part of the difficulty lies in the way warlockry interferes with other magic. We thought we had the answer when we discovered that if a warlock is transformed into something else, such as an ape or cat, he is no longer a warlock— but we discovered that when returned to human form he is as powerful a magician as ever; we can’t transform him into a human who isnot a warlock by any method we’ve tried. Reversible petrifaction did no better. We thought of using Fendel’s Lesser Transformation to turn a warlock into a human being who is identical save for not being a warlock, but we discovered that the spell did not affect the one portion that mattered-the core of warlockry in the subject’s brain. Wizardry simply can’t affect it-not to transform it, nor remove it, nor alter it in any way. The only reason a transformed warlock can’t use his magic is that whatever causes it only operates in human beings; the core always remains present, dormant but as untouchable as ever, in the subject of a transformation. In short, if you’ve come here hoping we can return you and your fellow warlocks to your former state, you’ve wasted your time and ours.”

Hanner waved that idea away. “No, that wasn’t my intent,” he said. He had, as usual, said the wrong thing.

He couldn’t afford to do that again. The time had come to say theright thing. His life, and the lives of all the other warlocks, might well depend upon it.

“I was distracted by the loss of my magic, that’s all,” he said. “I came for two reasons. Firstly, to ask what arrangements, if any, the Guild would like made regarding the remains of Manrin the Mage, and secondly, far more importantly, to offer information that I hope will help you decide the Guild’s attitude toward warlocks.” He looked over the assembled wizards, awaiting some comment.

A red-robed wizard at the far end of the table said, “We will see that Manrin’s remains are transported to his family in Ethshar of the Sands for a proper funeral. You need not worry about that further.”

That was a small relief. “And the information about warlocks?” he said.

None of them moved or spoke but Ithinia. “What information might that be?” she asked.

“I don’t know how much you have already learned,” he said. “Forgive me if I repeat what you already knew.”

“Go on.”

“Do you know about the Calling?”

“The summons to the source-point of warlockry, in southeastern Aldagmor? We are aware of it. We saw Varrin the Weaver and Rudhira of Camptown drawn away, and have observed dozens of others departing, though usually under less dramatic circumstances.”

“Southeastern Aldagmor?”

Ithinia sighed. “It would seem thatwe are the ones providing information, not you!”

“An exchange is certainly welcome,” Hanner said, smiling— he desperately needed to keep this discussion on friendly terms. “We only knew that they were going north; we didn’t know their destination.”

“Aldagmor. The phenomenon that began on the Night of Madness is centered there, and the closer one goes to that point, the more powerful it is, even now. Most of the Barony of Aldagmor has been depopulated, in fact-themajority of the population there vanished on the Night of Madness, and another large percentage has become warlocks, many of whom have since been summoned. That land is in chaos, and the only comfort we find in the situation there is that it was thinly populated to begin with. We do not wish to see anywhere else similarly transformed.”

Hanner shuddered. “Neither do we,” he said. “We have ereated a Council of Warlocks, and one purpose of our Council is to control the spread of warlockry and to stave off any further Callings.” He hesitated, then asked, “Do you know where these warlocks are going? I mean, what’s in Aldagmor that’s attracting them?”

“No, we don’t know,” Ithinia said. “The Aldagmor source is like the core in a warlock’s brain-wizardry cannot affect it, cannot see into it. Anyone who ventures too close-anyone, wizard, warlock, or otherwise-is drawn into it, and does not emerge.”

Hanner nodded. He had pessimistically assumed as much. This confirmation was no surprise.

“You presumably came here to convince us not to destroy you all,” Ithinia said. “I think you might do well to stop asking questions and start making your case.”

“Yes, I know.” Hanner took a deep breath, then said, “You’re concerned with warlocks because you fear we’re going to cause trouble. You think we might disrupt everything. The Guild exists to prevent magic from spreading chaos-you created it to keep yourselves from doing that.” He suddenly realized that since wizardry could extend life or restore youth, that “you” might be more literal than he had thought-the very wizards who had created the Guild two hundred years before might well still be alive and seated before him. The idea staggered him for a moment, and he paused in his speech. “Go on,” Ithinia said.

“You had to put an artificial limit on your own power,” Hanner said, “because there is no natural limit-wizards can live forever, learning more and more magic. If two of your mightiest members went to war, you could probably lay waste to the entire World.”

“As the demons did to the eastern provinces, and the gods did to the Northern Empire’s heartland,” a gray-robed man said, startling Hanner. “They, too, have bound themselves now.”

“Yes,” Hanner said. “Yes, exactly. So you want warlocks removed, lest we become equally dangerous. But wecan’t. Wedo have a natural limit.”

“The Calling, as you’ve named it,” Ithinia said.

“Yes,” Hanner said. “Exactly.”

A white-haired man stirred in his seat and said, “We do not bother ourselves about witches, whose magic is limited to the energy of their own bodies, nor with sorcerers, whose talismans are not sufficiently powerful or long-lasting to seriously concern us. You warlocks, though, can reach a frightening level of power before the Calling takes you. Your Rudhira demonstrated that.”

“Frightening, yes,” Hanner admitted. “But still limited, and your own people can wreak considerable havoc before drawing the Guild’s attention. I don’t know whether the legendary Tower of Flame in the Small Kingdoms is real-”

“It is,” the white-haired man interrupted. “It still burns.”

“You see? The World is full of dangerous magic, yet it survives. And a powerful warlock who goes rogue can easily be handled.”

Some of the wizards exchanged glances.

“Not so easily,” Ithinia said. “Warlocks resist wizardry. It’s as if you all bear powerful protective spells at all times. We have had some unfortunate incidents already. You know of one of them; the spell we used on your uncle, Lord Faran, was the strongest petrifaction spell we know, and should be utterly instantaneous, yet it took a second or two to work, and he had time to retaliate. And Lord Faran was not a terribly powerful warlock, nowhere near Rudhira’s level.”

“It was not Faran who stopped his killer’s heart,” Hanner said. “I was able to see that, using a warlock’s added senses. I hope you’ll understand if I don’t tell you who did perform the deed.”

That created a stir, but before anyone could speak Hanner continued, “But that wasn’t what I meant, in any case. Yes, you could destroy powerful warlocks with your spells, at some risk to yourself-but you could also slit their throats while they sleep.Manrin knew you far better than my uncle did, yet he didn’t manage to take anyone with him.”

Hanner paused for breath and heard someone mutter, “Elken, too.”

He ignored that, and continued. “Even that isn’t what I meant, though. Don’t you see? You can use the Calling to do your work for you!” Again, his words triggered unrest; the wizards shifted in their seats and looked at one another.

“If you keep throwing things at a dangerous warlock, it doesn’t matter whether any of your attacks succeed,” Manner said. “He’ll use his magic to defend himself. The more magic he uses, the more powerful he becomes. And the more powerful he becomes, the stronger the Calling becomes. Rudhira destroyed herself by lifting those ships-after she did that, the Calling was always there for her, growing steadily stronger.”

For a moment the place was silent; then Ithinia said, “An interesting point.”

Hanner knew he had said the right thing, finally. He was swaying them.

“That’s one side,” he continued. “Warlocks cannot cause the same level of destruction you fear, so there’s no real need to destroy us. But there’s another side. Wecan make any attempt to destroy us very costly.”

“Go on,” Ithinia said.

Hanner knew he had to phrase this carefully. He did not want to anger these people by seeming disrespectful or by threatening them openly. “You know we can kill you without touching you. You’ve seen us be obvious, smashing doors and so on, but we can be subtle. We can hide. We don’t need to look like anything but ordinary people-did you knowI was a warlock before this morning?”

“No,” Ithinia said, “but we do have ways of finding out.”

“And if a wizard’s heart suddenly stops in the street one day, can you find out which of the dozens of people in the area is responsible?”

Ithinia frowned and glanced around at the others. “Go on,” she said.

Hanner thought he heard someone whisper something faintly. He ignored that, as he had the earlier muttering, and went on. “You may think that there are only so many warlocks, and that once you’ve disposed of us all you’re rid of the problem-but we can make others into warlocks. It’s very easy, very subtle-the person altered wouldn’t necessarily even know it at first.”

“Wait a minute,” the white-haired wizard said. He drew a dagger and placed it on the table, then fumbled with a pouch on his belt.

“What are you doing?” Ithinia asked.

“The Spell of Truth,” the other replied. He mumbled something, gestured with the dagger, and did something Hanner couldn’t see with his other hand. Then he pointed the knife at Hanner and said, “Repeat what you just told us.”

“I said that we can make more warlocks. We can makeanyone a warlock, easily, with or without their permission or knowledge.”

“Are yousure of that?” the white-haired man demanded.

Hanner hesitated. He wanted to say yes, but he couldn’t honestly. He admitted, “No, I’m not sure. We believe so, but there might be people we can’t change. We can certainly change most people.”

The wizard nodded. “Good enough,” he said. “Then whyhaven’t you? Why not turn all the World to warlocks?”

“I’m not eager to do something irreversible when we don’t know what the results will be,” Hanner said. “Besides, it’s not as if most of us have found warlockry an unmixed blessing.”

“But if you turned your enemies to warlocks-”

“They might still be our enemies-and they might be more powerful than us.”

“But you have more experience.”

“And we’re closer to the Calling. We aren’t in any hurry to go see what’s in Aldagmor. If wedid turn everyone to warlocks, and the Calling took us all, we might destroy the entire World. We don’t want that any more than you do.”

“Go on,” Ithinia said.

Hanner sighed.

“That’s most of it,” he said. “If you do declare war upon us, we will fight, and we will fight with any means at our disposal. Wizards will die of heart failure, die in their sleep, die as they walk down the street. Wizards will find themselves transformed into warlocks, their familiar magic suddenly unreliable. Warlocks will appear throughout the city, throughout the World, anywhere we can get within a few yards of some unsuspecting innocent for a moment. You might win in the end, you might exterminate us or drive us all to the Calling, but would it be worth the cost?”

“What alternative do you offer?” the white-haired wizard asked.

“The Council of Warlocks,” Hanner said eagerly. “We propose to organize all the warlocks, as they’re discovered, and bind them by our rules. The warlocks who accept the Council’s authority will obey the laws of whatever land they live in-here in Ethshar-”

“You aren’t in Ethshar here,” a beautiful woman who had not previously spoken interrupted. “In fact, you aren’t even in the World.”

“I’m sorry,” Hanner said. “In Ethshar, then, they will obey the laws of the Hegemony and the commands of the three overlords. In the Small Kingdoms they will obey the laws of the various kings and queens. In Sardiron they will obey the barons. Whatever the law is, warlocks will be bound by it, and other warlocks will cooperate, free of charge, in bringing to trial any warlock who does not. Council warlocks will operate openly, not in secret-we will distinguish ourselves by wearing black tunics, as you wizards wear your traditional robes. We will transform others to warlocks only as properly sworn apprentices, as other magicians do. We will regulate our members, like any guild-and two or more warlocks working together can overcome a single more powerful warlock, where other magic might encounter that interference you’ve noticed. We will require that no warlock use any other magic.”

“And what do you expect in return?” the white-haired wizard asked.

“Very little,” Hanner asked. “We ask that we be treated as magicians, not monsters. We ask that the Wizards’ Guild not kill us, nor drive us into exile, nor aid others in doing so. And one more thing.” He had almost forgotten it and shuddered at the possibility. Convincing the Wizards’ Guild to leave warlocks alone was important, but it would hardly solveall their problems while warlocks were blamed for other crimes.

The wizards were waiting in expectant silence. He swallowed, then continued.

“All those people who vanished on the Night of Madness,” Hanner said. “They were warlocks who heard the Calling, we’re sure of it.”

“So are we,” the white-haired wizard said.

That statement was a pleasant surprise, and Hanner struggled not to react to it.

“But most people thinkwe made them disappear,” he said. “If the Wizards’ Guild, and perhaps the other magicians, could tell everyone that we aren’t responsible, that Uncle Kelder or Aunt Sarai was not kidnapped or eaten by warlocks, butwas a warlock— that would be what we need to fit in peacefully, which is all we want.”

“Warlocksdid loot and burn and kill on the Night of Madness,” Ithinia pointed out.

“Yes, they did,” Hanner admitted. “And we’re very sorry about that and will be glad to turn over for trial anyindividual who can be shown to have committed any such crimes. We’ve already done that, where we could-I personally delivered four warlocks to the Lord Magistrate of the Old Merchants’ Quarter, who had them flogged.”

“He speaks the truth,” the white-haired wizard said. “The spell is still in effect.”

“We can see that,” the woman who had corrected Hanner’s reference to Ethshar snapped.

“Is that it?” Ithinia asked. “Have you finished your speech?”

“Almost,” Hanner said. “Just one more thing.”

“Didn’t he say that before?” a wizard muttered. Hanner ignored it.

“I’ve told you what we want of the Guild,” he said. “To be left in peace and to have the truth about the disappearances told. I’ve told you what we offer in exchange-warlocks will be kept in order by the Council of Warlocks. I’ve explained why warlocks are not the threat some initially believed, in that the Calling limits us, and I’ve explained that neither are we harmless and easily obliterated, so that the peace we offer is reasonable. There’s just one more thing to add. It’s not a fact, but only a possibility, a consequence thatmight happen if you do refuse my offer and try to stamp us out.”

“What is it?” Ithinia asked.

“You know that hundreds, maybe thousands of people flew off to Aldagmor on the Night of Madness. You know the most powerful warlocks have followed them. But there are things wedon’t know about warlockry. We don’t know what causes it, how long it will last, or any of dozens of other things. So ask yourselves, when you consider declaring warlocks to be a menace to be stopped-what happens if the Callingstops?” He looked at the wizards and spread his arms dramatically. “What happens if all those warlocks come back from Aldag-mor and find out you’ve slaughtered their fellows?” he asked.

He knew that was something they hadn’t considered; he knew he’d said the right thing. He looked at them, trying not to grin.

The wizards stared at him in silence.