The Unwelcome Warlock

Chapter Thirty-Six

Ithinia knelt before the low table where she was making preliminary preparations for Varrin’s Greater Propulsion. She could not complete the spell for another four days – well, three and a fraction – but the early steps could be done at any time, and she wanted them out of the way. She kept her hands moving in the necessary gestures, her eyes focused on the elements of her spell, as she said, “How long has it been?”

“Two or three hours, Guildmaster,” Rothiel replied, standing well back from the table.

They were in a guard-room to one side of the overlord’s grand audience chamber; it was not as centrally located as Ithinia might have hoped, but it did have several large casements that gave a good view and would aid in navigating the palace when the spell was complete.

Right now, the view from those windows showed her the night-lanterns of Crooked Pier and the lights of the Newmarket waterfront. She had thought the spell would be needed to keep the palace from falling when Vond eventually let it go, but it was no longer airborne; instead it stood on a sandbar a hundred yards out from the beach. The spell would still be necessary to set the palace back in its proper place, of course, and at any rate, once she had begun it was not safe to stop until she reached one of the spell’s natural breaks.

“Do we know what happened?” she asked.

“That’s why I’m here, Guildmaster. We have received reliable reports that Vond did indeed follow Hanner and the rest through the tapestry Arvagan made.”

Ithinia considered that silently for a moment, swaying back and forth gently as her hands circled over the seven stones.

“Hanner had that tapestry made as a refuge from the Calling, I believe?” she said at last. She was not really asking Rothiel as much as reminding herself what Arvagan had told her.

“That is my understanding, Guildmaster.”

“But when he tested it, he was Called immediately.”

“So I was told, yes.”

“Warlockry should not reach through a Transporting Tapestry.” She frowned. “But I don’t think Vond would want to give up his magic even for a moment, and Hanner’s refuge apparently did not protect him seventeen years ago. Perhaps there is yet another source of magic on the other side, one that increased Hanner’s susceptibility to the Call.”

“We have no way of knowing, Guildmaster.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Rothiel. Dozens of Called warlocks went through that tapestry, and were then chased back to Ethshar by Vond’s hirelings – they would know whether there is a third source on the other side. We can ask them.”

“Oh,” Rothiel said. “Of course.” Ithinia glanced up from her work long enough to see that the man was actually blushing.

“Everyone misses the obvious on occasion,” she said. “Now that your oversight has been pointed out, perhaps you will make up for it by talking to some of these refugees and learning as much as you can about Hanner’s other world. What does Vond want there? Why hasn’t he returned yet? When will he return?” She paused. “You might want to talk to Arvagan about what return mechanism he provided when Hanner first purchased the tapestry. Talk to the refugees first, though. I’m sure you can think of the questions we want to ask.”

“Yes, Guildmaster.”

“Was there anything else I needed to know before you attend to interviewing the refugees?”

“Not about the general situation, but Lady Alris wishes to speak to you.”

“Then by all means, send her in.”

Rothiel bowed, then turned and left the room.

A moment later Lady Alris entered.

Ithinia did not know the Lady of the Household well; Alris’ duties generally kept her in the palace, while Ithinia had preferred to stay out of the seat of government. Still, they had met before, in passing.

“You will forgive me, my lady, if I do not bow,” Ithinia said. “As you can see, I am in the midst of a spell I hope will restore the palace to its proper place.”

Alris nodded. “Of course, Ithinia.”

For a moment neither woman spoke; then Ithinia asked, “Are you here on behalf of Lord Azrad?”

“I am here as his representative, yes,” Alris replied, “but I am also here on my own behalf.”

“Are you?” Ithinia’s tone was polite, but uninterested.

“Yes. But first, the overlord wishes to know what he might expect from you and this demented warlock.”

Ithinia nodded. “Please extend to Lord Azrad my apologies for allowing this situation to arise. I regret to say I am not entirely sure what he should expect. Emperor Vond has disappeared. He may return at any time, and when he does I expect he will lift the palace off this sandbar and once again suspend it over the city.”

“Lord Azrad has been given to understand that the emperor has done this because you attempted to deceive him in some fashion.”

Ithinia sighed. “Yes, we did. We had hoped to discourage him from using his magic recklessly.”

“Who is ‘we’?”

“Myself and certain other magicians, most particularly a witch named Kirris of Slave Street. I very much regret to say that Kirris is dead now; Vond killed her.” Ithinia allowed herself a sigh. “We meant no harm.”

“Yet here we are, in a palace that has been yanked out of the ground like a weed, dangled over the city for hours, and then flung aside.”

“I am aware -” Ithinia began.

“Lord Azrad is not interested in what you may be aware of,” Alris interrupted. “He has sent me here to express his very great displeasure at being caught in the middle of a feud between two magicians.”

Ithinia was startled; she was not accustomed to being interrupted. She said, “I -”

“Furthermore,” Alris continued, cutting her off, “he wishes me to convey to you his intense annoyance at the apparent hypocrisy involved. We all know your Guild forbids the overlord to interfere with magical business, yet you and the warlock seem to have had no compunction about interfering with the overlord.”

“On the contrary, I am appalled that Vond -”

“Heretofore,” Alris went on relentlessly, “Lord Azrad and his predecessors have allowed wizards a great deal of leeway, as have the other overlords. He would remind you that it was you and your fellow wizards who convinced his father to allow warlocks to live in this city in the first place. He would also remind you that while he knows wizards and warlocks are very powerful, there are other powerful magicians who would be happy to see your position in Ethshar reduced.”

“Yes,” Ithinia said. “I know.”

Alris glared silently at her.

“Are you done?” Ithinia asked.

“I have delivered the overlord’s message,” Alris replied.

“Good. Tell Lord Azrad that he has every right to be upset, and I can assure him that I will be more careful in the future. The spell I am working on, once completed, will allow us to keep the palace airborne for a month, even if Vond releases it. It will not, I regret to say, prevent him from smashing the palace in some other way, but at least if he drops it – if, perhaps, he were to die suddenly while the palace is aloft – it won’t fall, but can instead be lowered gently back into its place. Furthermore, I am doing what I can to make peace with Emperor Vond; I have sworn not to harm him, and I hope that once his temper has cooled we’ll be able to reach some sort of agreement to leave each other alone. I apologize for all this.”

Alris listened, then asked, “You’ve sworn not to harm him?”

“Yes.” Ithinia saw no need to explain any further, or offer any greater assurances than a simple statement.

“Does he know that?” Alris demanded.

“He heard me say it.”

“And yet the palace is still on a sandbar.”

Ithinia grimaced. “Obviously, his temper has not yet cooled. I would also guess that he is not necessarily sure my word is good, or that my friends and allies won’t take action against him without me.”

Alris nodded. “I see. I will tell Lord Azrad what you’ve said.”

“Thank you.” Ithinia frowned as she completed a tricky pass, then looked up from the table and asked, “Was there anything else?”

“Not from the overlord. For myself, though – have you seen my brother Hanner? Do you know whether he’s all right? He was staying in our uncle’s…at Warlock House, and that’s where Vond is now.”

“It’s where Vond was, certainly,” Ithinia said. “My friends and I aren’t entirely sure just where he is now.”

“Do you know where Hanner is?”

Reluctantly, Ithinia admitted, “I’m not sure. We think he went through that tapestry he commissioned before he was Called, but we don’t know for certain whether he’s still over there. You might consult another magician, though; I’ve been rather busy with other concerns.”

“I haven’t seen him since he was Called,” Alris said. “Nerra did – Lady Nerra, our sister – and he visited Mavi, who used to be his wife, but I haven’t seen him, and neither have any of his children. You did, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did,” Ithinia said. “He seemed fine.”

“Did he?” Her tone made it clear that Alris was genuinely concerned for her brother’s welfare.

“Very much so,” Ithinia said. “Like all the Called warlocks, he didn’t age while he was in Aldagmor, so he isn’t any older than he was sixteen years ago -”

“Seventeen,” Alris interrupted.

“Seventeen, then. He looked a little tired and worn after his hardships in the wilderness, but he seemed to be healthy and in good spirits.”

“Tired?”

“Yes,” Ithinia said. She knew that since Hanner had been a warlock, Alris had not seen her brother tired in decades. “Tired. He’s free of the Calling, and no longer a warlock. But he’s fine.”

“Then why didn’t he come to see me?” Alris asked plaintively.

“He’s been busy,” Ithinia said, suddenly sympathetic. “And remember, for you it’s been seventeen years, but for him it’s only been a few days.”

“You don’t think he’s been avoiding me?”

“I’m afraid I really have no idea,” Ithinia said. “I’ve known him for decades, but we’ve never been close; I won’t pretend to know his thoughts. I think he’s found it somewhat unsettling to see how much things have changed in his absence; perhaps he doesn’t want to see how much you’ve aged.”

Alris stared at Ithinia for a moment, then shook her head. “That’s silly,” she said. “He’s my brother, not my lover.”

“You’re now a decade older than he is.”

“No, I’m younger…oh. Well, yes, but…” She hesitated as she thought it over, then shook her head again. “That’s not it,” she said. She frowned. “But that’s…you know, sometimes I really hate magic.”

Ithinia grimaced as she completed the elaborate pattern of gestures, and lowered her hands. “I’ll need to continue the spell when the lesser moon rises, but for now I can rest.” She looked up at Alris. “I love magic. Yes, it can do strange and unexpected things, but I love it. It gives the World flavor. I think I would love it even if I couldn’t work a single spell.”

“You can have it,” Alris said. “Magic killed my uncle, and snatched my brother away, and now it’s dumped my home out here, where I need the longest ladder we have just to get down from the front door, and I’d need to wade fifty yards to reach the Newmarket beaches. It makes everything dangerous and unpredictable – sooner or later it might kill us all just because some wizard mispronounced a word, or a demonologist said the wrong thing. Yes, it’s wonderful when it works, but it’s not worth it.” She turned away. “I’ll tell Lord Azrad what you said.” She headed toward the door.

“Please make it clear that I do apologize,” Ithinia called after her.

Alris didn’t reply.

Then Ithinia was alone in the room, the makings of her spell spread out before her.

Poor Alris, she thought. Poor Azrad. Poor Hanner. They were all caught up in this mess through no fault of their own. But that was the way of the World; as Alris had said, magic was dangerous. It had consequences and complications, and not just for its practitioners.

Ithinia certainly hoped it would have serious consequences for Vond. That damned fool was endangering everyone by meddling with those towers. Maybe she should have just told him that in the first place, and asked him to be careful, but she had feared he might not believe her, or worse, that he might consider it an opportunity for massive blackmail – let him do whatever he pleased, or he might smash the towers. But she hadn’t told him, and it was obviously too late now. He was in no mood to trust her ever again. She had sworn not to harm him, and she hoped that would be enough to prevent any further open conflict, but she knew better than to think she could talk him into anything.

Of course, she had sworn that she would not harm him – but she was not about to stop anyone else who tried to harm him, and she thought that his spectacular display of petulance, pulling the palace out of the ground, would probably attract others who would do it for her.

Just as she thought that, someone cleared his throat. She looked up, and there was the man in the brown robe who had been in her parlor. “Demerchan,” she said.

“Just Kelder,” he replied. “I am hardly the entirety of the cult.”

“Is Kelder your true name, then?”

“You don’t think I’m stupid enough to give a wizard my true name.” It was a statement, not a question.

“I suppose not. What brings you here, then?”

“A courtesy,” he said. “Nothing more.”

“Oh? And what courtesy would that be?”

“I thought you would want to know. The cult has decided not to remove His Imperial Majesty, the Great Vond. We would prefer to see the Wizards’ Guild make peace with him, as well.”

Ithinia had lived for centuries, and was not easily surprised by the foolishness of others, but this startled her. “Why?” she demanded. “He’s a threat to us all!”

“We do not believe he poses as great a threat as you assume.”

“But he’s interfering with the towers in Lumeth!”

Kelder shook his head. “We think you misjudge his situation.”

“He could make a thousand new unCallable warlocks!”

Kelder smiled wryly. “Do you think he will?”

“No,” Ithinia admitted. “But why risk it?”

“The cult has its own reasons.”

“As does the Guild.”

“Of course. Let me remind you, Guildmaster, that you swore not to harm him.”

“I am not likely to forget it.”

“Let me remind you also that wizards who break oaths die. If the Guild does not see to it, the Cult of Demerchan will.”

“You’re threatening me?”

“I am reminding you of the stakes.”

“I don’t need your reminder.”

“Nonetheless, I have given it. Here’s another reminder – the lesser moon will be rising in less than an hour. You should get something to eat.”

“I know that!” Ithinia snapped. “If you weren’t here with your nonsensical reminders, I would be on my way to the kitchens.”

“I won’t keep you, then.” He bowed, wrapping his brown cloak around himself, and vanished.

“We wizards aren’t the only ones he’s annoyed, you know!” Ithinia called at the empty air. “Sooner or later, someone’s going to cut his throat.”

There was no reply, and after a moment she turned and hurried toward the door. She really did want something to eat before beginning the next part of the spell.