The Flying Sorcerers

Shoogar was alone with his shelter and his bicycle. I found him staring up into the sky and muttering to himself. “Goat kidneys, frog follicles, ant feathers — why did this have to come during the darkless season?”

“Shoogar,” I said. “What is the matter?”

“The sky, you idiot — the sky!”

“I am not an idiot. I am the Speaker now.”

“Being a Speaker does not preclude you from being an idiot,” he snapped. His eyes were watery-red from peering so long into the sun. “If only it weren’t for that god-cursed sky!”

“What is the matter with the sky?”

“I can’t see the moons,” He stood and gestured, “Elcin’s Wrath! How can I know what the configurations are if I can’t see the moons? Red day, blue day, red day, and no darkness ever. I’ve stared and stared —”

A dreadful certainty was stealing over me. “Shoogar, what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to plan a duel.”

“Gods protect us, Lant! How can I even hope to defend myself if I can’t see what the configurations are?”

“It is unfortunate,” I agreed. Virn knows how I managed to keep my voice steady. “But perhaps it is also auspicious.”

“Auspicious?” He whirled on me. “Auspicious? How can it be auspicious? How can I plan a duel when all the auspices are hidden?”

“Maybe,” I said carefully. “Maybe, it’s a sign that you shouldn’t duel.”

“Shouldn’t duel? — Are you mad? Lant the Speaker!” he mocked, “he only knows how to speak in circles.”

“I am not speaking in circles,” I said firmly. “I mean that for once you won’t be able to depend on your magic for an easy solution. Perhaps, for a change, you will have to think out the wisest course of action instead of just rashly casting a spell with dangerous side effects. Remember, whatever you do, we won’t be able to flee the side effects of it until the waters recede.”

“Are you questioning my magic?” He peered at me, narrow-eyed.

“Me? Never! I am your staunchest supporter — but you have to admit, Shoogar, you do sometimes use your magic in situations where a little diplomacy might be better. You are too hasty to cast spells before you know how they will work out —”

“How else will I find out how they work??” he snapped.

I ignored the interruption. “You must admit, Shoogar, that my skill with words is better than yours.”

“Yes,” he said. “You use more of them than I do. You should be better.”

“Be that as it may — if you don’t know how the moons are positioned, then you are unable to cast any kind of moon-dependent spell. Instead, you must depend on me, as Speaker, to avoid situations where your magic will be needed.”

“It’s too late, Lant. We’re already in a situation where my magic is necessary. I have to protect us from Purple. Obviously, he’s going to try to kill me — and you — and the rest of the villagers! If only to retrieve these!” He held aloft the trophy that he had picked up when he vanquished the black egg: Purple’s quartz lenses, their black bone frame glistening in the blue light.

“Nonsense,” I snapped back at him, surprising even myself with my audacity. I was already beginning to feel like a Speaker. “Obviously, you don’t remember Purple as well as I do. I don’t recall that he ever once used violence, or ever once tried to cast a spell against you. In fact, all of the spell-casting done at the old village was done by you. Purple has yet to retaliate for any of your attacks.”

“All the more reason to beware. We’re in his village now — when he does retaliate, it will be a moon-destroyer, Lant.”

“Again, nonsense. Purple is a talker, not a doer.”

“My magic is necessary to protect us, Lant —”

“Granted, that you should protect us, but that does not mean that you must attack Purple right off —”

“The only good defense is a strong offense —”

“And you will have the moons falling out of the sky on top of us! Why don’t you wait to see what he is planning? You forget that you have power over him, Shoogar — you have his lenses. He’ll want them back. He’ll do anything to get them back, perhaps even swear an oath of truce.”

“Truce?” exploded Shoogar. “Truce?!! Lant, you have the mind of a flea! There can be no truce with magicians. I ought to know!”

“And you have the temper of a goat!” I snapped back. “If it weren’t for me, you would have killed yourself long ago attempting to hurl fire balls at Elcin!”

This stopped Shoogar for a moment. He looked at me speechlessly. “Lant,” he said quietly. “You surprise me. I had no idea you were so violent.”

“It’s been a long hard journey, Shoogar — I’m tired. Most of all, I’m tired of suffering because of poor judgment on the part of a magician. Now use your brain for once — or if you haven’t one, let me use mine for you.”

“What is it you are suggesting…?” he sighed.

“Wait — that’s all. Wait. Swear an oath of truce, if necessary. It is too soon to duel with Purple, much too soon. If you attempt to duel with him on his home ground you are doomed to lose. Wait until you are on equal terms at least.”

Shoogar didn’t say anything. He examined his fingernails thoughtfully, and scratched at his thin fur.

“Well…?” I asked.

He didn’t answer. He continued to scratch.

“There is one other thing you should consider, Shoogar. Purple always claimed that his spells did not depend on the gods or on the configurations of the moons. You’ve always thought that he was lying. But if he is not, then the endless sunlight does not hamper him.”

He didn’t answer — but at least he stopped scratching.

“Well? Will you wait? Or will you at least agree not to do anything until you talk it over with me?”

He looked up. I’ll talk it over with you before I do any-thing.”

“Fine.”

When I left he was still cursing the sky — but at least he was packing away his spellcasting equipment.