The Unwelcome Warlock

Chapter Twenty-One

Hanner was sitting alone in the dim parlor, trying to decide what he wanted to do with the rest of his life, when someone knocked on the big front door.

He had been sitting there for hours, unable to settle on a course of action. Not only had he not developed any long-range plans, he had not even managed to deal with immediate questions, such as whether or not to inform Ithinia of Vond’s arrival, or whether to go look up his sisters or his children. He wanted to see Faran, and Arris, and Hala, but did they want to see him? He had abandoned them when he flew off to Aldagmor, and he didn’t know whether they would understand that he had had no choice, or would blame him for giving in to the Call.

He knew he probably wouldn’t even recognize them – they had been children when he left, and they were adults now, with children of their own. He might have already passed them on the street without knowing it. From his point of view he had seen them barely a sixnight before, but for them it had been seventeen years.

At least he was reasonably certain he would recognize his sisters, Nerra and Alris, but they, too, were seventeen years older. Seeing Mavi had been a shock, even before she chose her new husband over him, and he was not quite ready to see how his siblings had changed, but he knew he could not put it off for long without offending them.

And his children – did they know he was still alive?

He had been letting his mind run in circles, getting nowhere, for much of the afternoon.

He told himself that after his ordeal in Aldagmor, and the stress of the Calling before that, he deserved a little rest, that his family would understand, but he was not at all sure that what he was doing was really rest, rather than paralysis.

The knock broke the spell, at least for a moment. With a sigh, Hanner got to his feet and ambled to the door – there was no one else in the house to answer it. Vond and Zallin were still off on their tour. Rudhira had returned and joined him for lunch, but was now making a second trip to the markets, intent on stocking the kitchens before the weather turned foul enough to make shopping difficult. Sterren had departed immediately after lunch, saying he was going out to look for someone named Emmis of Shiphaven.

Whoever was out there was impatient, and knocked again before Hanner could get to the door. “I’m coming!” he shouted. He hastened his pace a little, and swung the door open, expecting to see Sterren or Rudhira.on the steps; he doubted Vond or Zallin would bother to knock. If it was Rudhira she might need help with her purchases.

It wasn’t Rudhira, nor Sterren. There were half a dozen people standing there, all of them bedraggled and exhausted, several of them shivering, and all but one in nightclothes of one sort or another. It was a safe assumption that all of them were former warlocks; it would seem, Hanner thought, that the wizards had finally started delivering some of the Called back to Ethshar of the Spices.

“Chairman Hanner?” one of them said.

Hanner looked at the speaker; her face was slightly familiar, but he couldn’t place it. The rest he did not believe he had ever met. “Yes?” he said.

“May we come in?”

Hanner hesitated. He didn’t know these people. He was not particularly in a mood to welcome strangers into his home. Ithinia had told him to be a comforting friend to displaced former warlocks, to encourage them to go on without magic, so he should invite them in and hear them out, but she had also told him to keep former warlocks away from Vond, and Vond was not somewhere a hundred miles away in the Small Kingdoms; he was staying here.

“We don’t have anywhere else to go,” a white-haired old man said, “and it’s cold.”.

That decided it. “Come in,” Hanner said. “All of you, come in.” He flung the door wide and stepped back to let them past.

A moment later the seven of them were seated in the parlor. “Now, tell me what’s happened,” Hanner said. “Who are you all?”

The middle-aged woman who had called him by name said, “I’m Edara of Silk Street, Chairman; we met shortly before I was Called, in 5211.”

“I’m afraid I don’t remember,” Hanner admitted.

“I don’t suppose there’s any reason you should,” she said. “I was just one more frightened warlock hoping to avoid the inevitable.”

“Which turned out not to be as dreadful as we thought, didn’t it?” Hanner pointed out. “What brings you here?”

Edara blinked, as if fighting back tears. “We didn’t know where else to go!” she said. “We came through the gate, and it was wonderful to be back in Ethshar, but when I went to my parents’ house on Silk Street it was gone – there was a completely different shop there! No one knew what happened to my parents; hardly anyone even remembered them.”

“It’s been twenty-five years,” Hanner said gently.

“But they’re just gone, everything’s gone! The whole neighborhood is different.”

“Wasn’t there anywhere else you could go?”

She spread her hands. “I was an only child. I never married or had children – I didn’t want to leave any orphans when I got Called. Once I realized my home was gone, I came here to ask for your help.”

Hanner nodded. “And the rest of you?”

“The Night of Madness,” the old man said. “At least, that’s what they tell me. I went to bed one night, and had a nightmare, and the next thing I know I’m crawling out of a pit in Aldagmor, surrounded by strangers who tell me it’s more than thirty years later. I never heard of warlocks or the Night of Madness or any of this until I woke up out there!”

Hanner nodded. “Your name is…?”

“Bardec of Cut Street. I’m a cloth merchant – or I was. When I went home just now there were strangers living in my house, and my warehouse had been split into four different shops, and no one knew who I was. I’d met Edara while we were waiting to come through the gate, and we walked up Merchant Street together, and when we found out…what we found out, she said we should come here for help.”

“I see. And the rest of you? Much the same?”

The other four nodded. “I lived on the corner of Embroidery and Velvet,” one nightgown-clad woman began.

She was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Excuse me,” Hanner said.

This time there were only three unhappy strangers on the steps. Hanner ushered them in.

They had just gotten through the introductions when the next knock sounded. This time Hanner sent one of the others to answer it while he asked, “Several of you mentioned a gate; what gate? Didn’t the wizards send you here with a tapestry?”

“No,” several voices said.

“It wasn’t the wizards who did it,” Bardec said. “It was a god.”

“Asham the Gate-Keeper,” Edara said. “It took four theurgists to summon him.”

“It was…it was…” began a woman who had introduced herself as Gita. She groped for words, unable to complete her thought.

“It was a little overwhelming,” finished a woman who had given her name as Hinda. “I never saw or heard a god at all until this happened, and now I’ve heard two, Piskor and Asham.”

“Asham was scarier,” Gita said.

“He opened a gateway from that wilderness where the wizards found us right into the plaza in front of the overlord’s palace,” Bardec said. “We just walked through.”

“Hundreds of us,” Hinda said.

“They made us wait until most of the others had gone,” Edara said. “Because we’d been away so long.”

“It didn’t seem long to us,” Bardec said. “But it was.”

“Thirty-four years,” Hinda said.

“For most of us,” Gita said, with a glance at Edara.

“It was only half that for me,” Hanner said, “but the World does seem to have changed.” He remembered Mavi’s face. “It’s definitely changed.”

“We need help,” Edara said. “We need…we need a place to stay, and someone to tell us what’s happened, and -” She seemed at a loss for words.

“Everything,” Gita finished for her. “We need everything.”

“I can’t give you everything,” Hanner said, “but I can let you stay here until you can make new lives for yourselves. I’m not going to send you out to the Hundred-Foot Field, or let you be taken by slavers – but this isn’t permanent, it’s just until you can find your families, or make new places for yourselves. You understand that?”

“Of course, Chairman!” Edara said, relief plain in her voice. “Just until we find our footing.”

“And there’s a…complication,” Hanner said. “An important one.”

“What is it?” Bardec asked.

“You remember that warlock who called himself Vond, who somehow still had magic? He asked for volunteers, then flew off with them?”

“I remember,” Gita said. “How did he do that? Why does he still have magic?”

“I don’t know how he does it,” Hanner said. “Apparently he has another source, instead of the one we all used when we were warlocks.” He remembered who he was speaking to, and added, “At least, those of us who were warlocks, and weren’t just snatched away on the Night of Madness.”

“There’s another source?” Edara glanced around at the others. “Why can’t we all use it, then?”

“I don’t know,” Hanner said. “Apparently this one isn’t calling for help, and it may be different in other ways, as well. Personally, I don’t want to use it. I don’t trust it.”

“Then why did you bring it up?” Hinda asked.

“I didn’t,” Hanner said. “I brought up Vond.”

“All right, why did you bring up Vond?” Bardec asked.

“Because he’s living here, in this house. He’s declared himself Chairman of the Council of Warlocks, on the grounds that he’s the only real warlock left.”

The others exchanged looks.

“Where is he?” Gita asked. “Upstairs?”

“No, he’s gone out,” Hanner replied. “But he could be back at any time, and I don’t know how he’ll like finding out I’ve invited you all to stay here.”

“If he’s chairman now, then how can you invite us at all?” Edara asked.

“Because it’s my house,” Hanner explained. “My uncle built it. The Council used it with my permission, but never owned it.”

“Well, then, what business is it of this Vond’s if you have other guests?” Bardec demanded.

“Vond is the last warlock in the World,” Hanner said, “and one of the most powerful to ever live. He’s also Emperor Vond, absolute ruler of eighteen or nineteen of the Small Kingdoms. He’s accustomed to getting his way, regardless of details like law or justice. He has no legal say in whether or not I invite you to stay here, but he may not care about such niceties. If you anger him he may smash you against a wall, or stop your heart, or do something else equally unpleasant.”

“So we won’t anger him” Bardec said.

“We’ll try not to,” Edara said.

“I understand he does have a temper,” Hanner said. “If you’re willing to risk it, then by all means, stay here. If you think you’d rather face slavers or the Field than a foul-tempered warlock – well, that’s a personal judgment.”

“Do you think he could tell us how to use this second source?” Hinda asked.

Three or four other voices chimed in, joining in Hinda’s inquiry.

“I don’t know,” Hanner said, raising his hands for quiet. “I really don’t. And I’d think long and hard before asking him.”

“That’s all right for you,” a man whose name Hanner hadn’t gotten yet said. “You have this house, and probably some of your friends and family are still around. Some of us don’t have anything; our whole world is gone. At least if we had magic again we could earn a living!”

Hanner could not really counter that effectively, but he said, “I’m just asking you not to be too hasty. We don’t know how Vond’s magic works. Let’s give some other possibilities a try before we start harassing the emperor.”

“What other possibilities?” Edara demanded. “My old life is gone!”

“I don’t know what other possibilities,” Hanner said. “But you’ve hardly looked. It’s been what, less than a sixnight since we woke up in Aldagmor? Give it some time! Think about it! Some of you have skills from your old lives; maybe you’ve lost your homes and businesses, but you can start over. Maybe you do still have family, and just haven’t found them yet. I have three children, and they’re all still alive, but none of them live here anymore; they have their own places. Maybe your children, or nieces and nephews, or grandchildren, are still out there, and would be happy to see you if they knew how to find you.”

Most of his guests did not look convinced, but some of them appeared to at least be considering his words.

“And I think,” Hanner continued, “that other magicians might be willing to give some of you a hand. They’ve already gotten us all safely back to the city; they might be willing to do more.”

“Why would they do that?” Gita asked. “Wizards don’t generally do anything for free.”

“As a favor to their fellow magicians,” Hanner said. “The Wizards’ Guild and the Council of Warlocks always cooperated with each other. Besides, I wasn’t just thinking of wizards; theurgists might help out, as well. You all heard Piskor – the gods want us to help one another, and there might be dozens of theurgists who owe her, or some other god, a debt of service. Witches will often help out their neighbors without payment, too.”

“Without payment in coin, maybe,” Bardec said. “They usually find some way to make it worth their while.”

“Well, what’s wrong with that? Aren’t you willing to earn your keep?”

“What can we do, though?” Hinda asked.

“I don’t like counting on the generosity of witches,” Bardec said.

“Or wizards,” someone added.

“Or theurgists,” someone else chimed in.

“But you want mine?” Hanner asked, a little annoyed.

“That’s different,” Edara said. “You’re one of us.”

“Maybe Vond will help us out. After all, he’s a warlock, too.”

“Didn’t he take those others with him to the Small Kingdoms, and promise them things?”

“Did he really give them important positions?”

“Who knows?”

“But if he’s here, he’s not in the Small Kingdoms.”

“If he’s here, where are they?”

“Maybe they’re all in the Small Kingdoms running his empire for him.”

“Or maybe he killed them all.”

“Or maybe he taught them all to use this second source.”

“Where are they, Chairman? Did Vond bring them here with him?”

“No, he didn’t,” Hanner said. “I don’t know what happened to them.”

“So they might be warlocks again?”

“Or they might be dead.”

“We need to know!”

“Well, we don’t know,” Hanner said loudly. “Vond hasn’t said anything about them.”

Several people began to speak, but Hanner raised his hands for silence.

“For now,” Hanner said, before anyone could argue further, “you can stay here, but I am not responsible for anything that happens if you bother Emperor Vond. That includes anything that happens if you do learn to use the Second Source the way he does – just because he hasn’t yet heard a new Calling doesn’t mean there isn’t one, or perhaps there’s something different, something worse. For all I know, his new source isn’t in the World at all, and could suck him into some other universe at any moment. I know I’m not in any hurry to test it out.”

“He’s been using it for years, hasn’t he?” Gita asked.

Hanner shook his head. “Months,” he said. “Only a few months. At least, if you don’t count the fifteen years he spent in Aldagmor.”

Some of the others exchanged thoughtful glances.

“There’s no need to rush,” someone said.

Hanner held his peace for a moment while the others gradually fell in line; then he said, “Now, let me show you where you can sleep,” and beckoned them toward the stairs.

He had assigned rooms to perhaps half the new arrivals when the next group knocked at the door.

A rather bemused Rudhira was with them; she watched as Hanner welcomed them in and ran through more or less the same conversation, listening to them explain how they had nowhere else to go, then telling them that they could stay, but should be careful not to bother Vond. She looked past him, up the stairs at the guests leaning over the rail and listening.

Hanner noticed her gaze, and turned up an empty palm. He also saw that her arms were full of supplies she had brought from the markets. “Let me help Rudhira, then I’ll show you to your rooms,” he said to the others. Then he took the largest bundle from her arms and headed toward the kitchen.

“How many are there?” Rudhira asked when they were out of earshot.

“There were nine in the first two groups,” Hanner said, as he set the bundle on a table and reached for a cabinet door. “How many were there who arrived the same time you did?”

“Five, I think.”

“Fourteen in all, then.” He frowned thoughtfully. “I don’t want to use the upper floors, not until I have a chance to see what’s up there, but we can fit fourteen on the second floor. They won’t all get individual rooms, but if the furniture is still what it used to be, they can all have their own beds.”

“Are you counting Sterren and Zallin?” Rudhira pulled two heads of cabbage from a bag and studied the cabinets, trying to decide where to put them.

“And the two of us, yes. Eighteen. Not counting Vond – I don’t think anyone’s going to share his room.”

“Not unless she’s pretty.”

Hanner grimaced.

“It’s not so bad,” Rudhira said, pushing the cabbage into a tin-lined bin. “After all, you had thirty or forty people staying here when I was Called.”

“Did we? I’d forgotten. That was seventeen years ago for me.”

“It was only a few days ago for me.”

Hanner had not really thought about that, and was not comfortable with the idea. “I think we can manage, then,” he said, sliding a wheel of cheese onto a shelf. “Especially once I make sure the third floor is safe.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

Hanner didn’t have a good answer for that. Uncle Faran had kept the top two floors closed off for his own exclusive use, and had stored his magical devices up there, but Hanner had long ago disposed of most of the arcane paraphernalia and moved the remainder to the back rooms on the fourth floor. The third floor, and most of the fourth, should be perfectly suitable for guests.

“No reason,” he acknowledged. “We should be able to fit everyone easily.”

“For now,” Rudhira said. “But what if they keep coming? There were thousands who disappeared on the Night of Madness.”

“I don’t know,” Hanner said. “We can’t fit that many. They’ll need to find refuge somewhere else.”

“Where?”

That was an excellent question, and for a moment Hanner’s mind was completely blank, but then a thought struck him. He blinked. “I…might have an idea,” he said. “I’ll need to see if I can find a wizard named Arvagan the Gray.”

“Who?”

“You wouldn’t know him,” Hanner said. “I don’t think he came to the city until after you were Called. I met him about ten years after you left.”

Rudhira cocked her head to one side, sending a wave of red hair rippling across her shoulder. “So you think this Arvagan can do something other wizards can’t? If you need a wizard, couldn’t you just talk to Ithinia?”

“Well, she might know where he is, but no, I don’t want a wizard, exactly. I want something I last saw in Arvagan’s shop. I’m assuming he’ll know where it is.”

“If it still exists, whatever it is.”

“If it still exists,” Hanner agreed, as he stuffed a final bag of turnips into a bin. “Now, let’s go get our guests settled in.”

They were crossing back through the dining room when another knock sounded at the front door.