The Wizard

Chapter 21. A Bargain With Thiazi

You’re young and healthy.” I paused to study the wounded face turned toward the floor, the jaw set hard. “This will heal. The bone will knit. In a year or three it will be a lot easier to forget than that puckering scar on your cheek.”

Mani sat motionless save for his tail, which switched and curled and straightened again. I sensed that Mani, too, was waiting for Toug to speak; but Toug did not speak.

“The broken ends didn’t go through the skin,” I said. “Sometimes they do, and that can be bad. Fatal, too often. When they don’t, the break nearly always heals.” I wound another strip of rag around Toug’s shoulder—pulling it tight, and knotting it more tightly still.

Etela said, “He can’t die. Don’t die, Toug.”

“Do you hear us?”

Slowly, Toug nodded.

“Good. You have to understand the point of all this bandaging. Why am I doing it when you’re not bleeding?”

“He is!” Etela exclaimed.

I nodded. A child at the edge of womanhood, I decided, and wondered whether Toug knew it, or knew what it portended.

Mani said, “The bleeding’s not severe or serious. Just skin lacerations and a little from the old wound because the bandage was torn away.”

“Cats can’t talk!” That was Etela.

“This is actually the knight speaking,” Mani declared smoothly. “The knight can throw his voice.”

“I don’t believe you!” Etela jumped to her feet.

“But you must,” Mani told her. “Cats can’t talk.”

I watched Toug’s lips, hoping for a smile. “Mani’s right,” I said. “The salve would be enough if the bleeding bruise were the only problem. Perhaps a pad to hold the blood. All these bandages, with the stick, are to keep the ends of the break from moving. If they move they won’t heal, or won’t heal right. Let them stay where they are, and don’t assume they’ve healed because the pain is not as bad as it was. What’s the moon, Mani?”

“Almost gone.”

I nodded. “Let it go, Toug. Let it come back and go again. Then we’ll see.” There was moonlight in the eyes of the strange woman Etela called Mama; I wondered what those eyes would be like when the moon was full, and found myself hoping I would never see them by moonlight.

Etela said, “He can’t fight, can he? They’re going to come in here after us, but Toug can’t fight them.”

“He can fight,” I said carefully. “He simply can’t fight with his left arm. He can’t hold a shield, or fight with a big sword like the one he used today. He’s a knight, save for being knighted, and knights often fight in spite of their wounds. Toug could do that.”

Almost imperceptibly, Toug shook his head.

“If you and your Mama were threatened. He may think he wouldn’t. When the swords were out, it would be different.” To my surprise, Gylf licked Toug’s hand.

“They know the king’s dead,” Etela continued hopelessly, “‘n they’ll come, too many to fight. Too many for anybody. ‘N we’ll scream ‘n run ‘n hide. Only they’ll find us, one ‘n then ‘nother one, ‘n kill us.”

Toug raised his head. “Too many for Sir Svon and Sir Garvaon and me, Etela. Maybe too many for Schildstarr, too. But not too many for Sir Able. You’ll see.”

“Well said!” Mani declared.

“But I wish Baki was here.” Toug’s voice had dropped. “There’s something I’ve got to tell her.”

I stepped back. “It’s a good thing she’s not. You may want to think your declaration over before you make it.”

“No, I know what I’m going to say. I just want to say it. I want to say you’ve got to stay here, stay with us. Baki wants you to go off someplace and fight somebody.”

“Aelfrice.” I supplied the words. “Garsecg.”

“But you’re here, and we need you. If you’re not here we’ll all die.”

“You’re both wrong.” I seated myself on the rung of a chair. “You take too dark a view, and so does this girl.”

“Etela, sir.”

I nodded and smiled at her. “Etela. I don’t blame either of you, but you’re wrong just the same.”

Speaking for the first time, the strange woman said, “I will not run or hide.”

“Correct.” I nodded. “You were slaves here before. Why shouldn’t you be slaves again? The Angrborn would kill Sir Garvaon, Sir Svon, and me—if they could. They might kill our men-at-arms and archers, too, or most of them. They might even kill Toug, Sir Garvaon’s squire, Lord Thiazi and Lord Beel. But why kill slaves? Slaves are loot, not foes.”

“Nor am I a foe,” Mani remarked, “or at least they won’t think so. Do you think they’ll kill Queen Idnn?”

I shook my head.

“Neither do I.” Mani considered, his sleek head to one side. “I’ll do what I can for her, and I feel sure she’ll do what she can for me. We’ll come through all right. She’ll want to save her father, too, and perhaps we can.”

I grinned at him, then at Etela. “So you see, Toug, Gylf, and I are the only ones present who’re in real danger, and only Gylf and I are in much.”

Gylf’s growl was loud and very deep.

“He says they are in danger from him,” I interpreted, “and no doubt he’s right.”

“Is it all right if I pet him?” Etela asked.

“Unless he moves his head away.”

Gylf did not.

“Let’s get to the other things you and Toug said. Toug wants to notify Baki that he’ll no longer honor his promise to persuade me to go to Aelfrice. He feels I’m needed here to protect you and your Mama.”

“And me,” Toug said.

I ignored it. “He’s wrong, because there’s no reason for him to sully his honor. I won’t go to Aelfrice or anyplace else as long as you need me. You have my word.”

Etela smiled and thanked me, but neither her mother nor Toug gave any indication of having heard.

“I want to go to Aelfrice, I’m—”

The oaken door (one of five doors of various woods and sizes) opened, and Thiazi stepped into the room.

I rose. “Your pardon, My Lord. This chamber wasn’t locked, and I thought we might wait for you here.”

Thiazi went to the largest chair. “You think I leave it unlocked so that my visitors may wait in comfort.” A slight smile played about his mouth.

I shook my head. “I thought nothing of the kind, My Lord. Only that since your door wasn’t locked you wouldn’t object to my bandaging Toug here, if we did no harm.”

“I keep it unlocked as a boast. It has been my boast that there was no one in Utgard so bold as to come in without my invitation. These two slaves,” Thiazi indicated Etela and her mother, “presumably know nothing of me. Even if they knew, they can’t have known this apartment was mine unless you told them. Did you?”

“No, My Lord. If I had I would’ve had to explain why I wanted them with me when we talked, and I wanted to bandage Toug instead. That was far more urgent.”

“You have bandaged him now,” Thiazi pointed out.

“I have, My Lord. This girl is Etela.” I turned to Toug. “Is that right?”

Etela herself said, “Yes, sir.”

“And this woman is her mother. I think I know her name, but it would be better if she were to introduce herself.”

Etela’s mother seemed not to have heard.

Etela said, “She don’t talk a lot except just to me. Sometimes not even to me.” Thiazi made a steeple of his fingers and smiled above it. “An exemplary woman.”

“Too much so,” I told him. “Your art is famous. King Gilling was very near death, yet you would have saved him.”

Thiazi’s glance darkened. “I could not discern the identity of his assassin, thus I could not.”

“I didn’t mean that.”

“He’s under a spell of protection. There can be no other explanation. I safeguarded our king, but he left his bed...” The steeple vanished, and the great hands clenched. “He heard that woman, and rushed from his bed. Pah!”

“Toug thinks our situation grave. Don’t you, Toug?”

Toug lifted his head. “I guess I do. They hate us. I don’t know what we did, but they do.”

“The Angrborn are descendants of those Giants of Winter and Old Night who had to leave Skai,” I told him. “Those who forced them to go are our Overcyns.”

“Mythgarthr was made from the body and blood of Ymir,” Thiazi added. “It’s ours by right.”

Mani lifted an admonitory paw. “Gentlemen! Gentlemen! Surely you see that this quarrel is not in the best interest of either side.”

“The Giants of Winter and Old Night,” I said levelly, “take whatever they can by force and keep it. The Sons of Angr behave in precisely the same fashion.”

“You wish to quarrel with me,” Thiazi muttered.

“Why, no.” I smiled. “Toug reminded us of our ancient enmity. Can we agree to set it aside? For the present?”

Thiazi started to speak, but fell silent.

“Toug believes that thousands of Angrborn will storm Utgard, butcher everyone and burn it to the ground.”

Etela touched my arm. “It’s rocks, mostly.”

“So it is. Nothing of the sort will happen, of course. Those who would have set up a new king attacked Sir Svon and Toug, whose force consisted of themselves and seven slaves, three of them women and one a child. All fought like men from what I saw. Schildstarr and a few followers joined them, and the mob couldn’t overcome them. Hundreds against one knight, a squire, some slaves, and twelve or fourteen of their own people. Sir Garvaon arrived with a few men-at-arms, and the hundreds who would have overthrown King Gilling couldn’t keep his supporters—”

Etela’s mother said, “Fewer than fifty.”

“Right. They couldn’t keep a scant fifty from reaching the gate. Queen Idnn appealed for peace, and by then they were eager to agree. Anybody who thinks they’ll go to work tomorrow on a ramp knows nothing about war.”

“I never said I knew a lot,” Toug declared.

I nodded. “You fought to exhaustion and were wounded. Both have colored your thinking. You need to realize that.”

“It was Queen Idnn that got you to come back?”

Mani’s voice was smooth, “Indirectly, it was I. I moved my royal mistress, and she Sir Able.”

Toug nodded. “I think I see.”

I said, “Then we don’t have to talk about it.”

Thiazi shrugged. “I won’t try to plumb your secret. I can do it easily anytime I think it important. You’ve told us what won’t happen, and I agree. What will?”

“Will you seek the throne for yourself?”

He smiled bitterly. “Would you support me if I did?”

“That would depend.”

“I will not. It is a dangerous seat, and I am by no means popular.”

“Someone will. Someone popular or at least plausible. Probably not one of the those who instigated the attack.”

Toug said, “The first one got killed.”

“Then I’m right.” I spread my hands. “Somebody else. If we’re lucky, he won’t surface before His Grace arrives. If we’re not, our position will be weaker. In either case, we’ll offer our friendship and our king’s, and ask him to let us leave Jotunland in peace. Since he’ll have everything to gain and nothing to lose by that, I think he will.”

“What of me?” Thiazi asked.

“You’ll serve your new king loyally and ably, just as you served King Gilling.”

“He may have scores to settle.”

“If he does, he won’t settle them, though he may think he has. Every king requires a sorcerer, and somebody who’ll take the blame for unpopular decisions. You’re both. He’ll ask himself why he shouldn’t make use of you, at least at first, and congratulate himself on his cleverness.”

“I congratulate you on yours, Sir Able. You make your speculations sound very plausible.”

“That’s because they are. Have I earned a boon?”

Thiazi nodded. “Several, if you want them.”

“Swell. I need three. First, the division of slaves—”

“You wish to claim some for yourself? Or for our queen? You must speak to Sir Svon now.”

Toug looked up. “You’ve divided them already?”

Thiazi shrugged. “You were wounded, and we saw no need of your presence. I acted for you, in your interests.”

Toug started to speak, but Thiazi silenced him with a gesture. “First you should know that there were but six to divide, one having perished in the fighting. Another has an injured arm. Sir Svon got first choice, you’ll remember.”

Mutely, Toug nodded.

“He chose the sound man, naturally. I, acting for you, choose the other man. His name is Vil,” Etela gasped.

“A strong slave and a skilled one, from what I gather. When his arm heals, he should be a valuable possession. Sir Svon then chose one of the women—not this one. I, knowing your fondness for this child, chose her.”

“I was his already!” Etela exclaimed.

Thiazi shook his head. “You were not, but you are now. Sir Svon took the other woman—understandably, I’d say—and I was left with your mother for this squire. Thus you and your mother belong to him, together with the smith Vil.”

Toug said, “That’s good. I—I never really liked you much. I was wrong.”

“You failed to understand me,” Thiazi told him, “as you fail now. I do my duty as I see it. Will you give a slave to Sir Able? If you do, Sir Svon will surely give one of his to the queen. All of them, perhaps, but we’ll have to see.”

“I don’t want any,” I declared. “I do want boons. This woman. What’s her name, Toug?”

“I don’t know. What is it, Etela?”

“Lynnet. I say Mama, only it’s Lynnet really.”

The strange woman whispered, “Marigolds and manticores.”

“That’s something she says,” Etela explained. “I told Toug, ‘n he said marigolds were flowers.”

Thiazi added, “Symbolizing wealth or the sun.”

Etela nodded gratefully.

I said, “Manticores are beasts the size of Gylf here. Their heads are like the heads of men or women, but they have the teeth and claws of lions. Their tails are like the tails of scorpions, though much larger, and their sting is fatal.”

“Why does she say it, Etela?” Toug asked.

“I don’t know. Why do you say why?”

Thiazi snorted. “I’ve a better question. What’s the second boon you crave, Sir Able? I may grant it if I can.”

“Can you heal this woman? Toug’s slave?” As I spoke, Gylf looked up at me. From Gylf’s look I knew Gylf knew I could have healed her myself, that such acts violated my oath, and that he was far from sure my oath had been wise.

“I can try,” Thiazi said, “and perhaps I will. Whether I will or not depends on your answers to some questions. Can you tell me who stabbed His Majesty the night of the combat and who took his life? And what is the third boon you ask?”

I sighed. “May I sit, My Lord?”

Thiazi nodded, and I resumed my seat on the rung. “I can’t answer your first question. If you want my opinion, the assassin was the same both times, though I’m not sure even of that. Is my final boon—I didn’t get the first—to be withheld?”

“You may not get the second, either.” Thiazi rose to pace the room, looking as tall as a tower. His voice boomed from the walls. “I will not believe that a man of your penetration cannot offer a guess.”

“I could offer a guess.” I paused, sorting swirling thoughts. “I won’t. I’m a knight, and a knight doesn’t put the honor of others at risk. Suppose I did. Suppose I said that though I couldn’t know, I felt it likely that the guilty party was a foreign knight, Sir Able of the High Heart. The accusation would spread as such accusations always do, and my reputation would never recover. Even if somebody confessed, people would say my character made the charge plausible.”

Thiazi paused in his pacing to say dryly, “You were absent, I believe, upon both occasions?”

“I was. That’s why I accused myself. Schildstarr has a friend with two heads. I don’t know his name.”

“Orgalmir is the left, and Borgalmir the right.”

“Thanks. I don’t say this, but suppose I did. I guess that Orgalmir wounded the king and Borgalmir killed him.”

“Absurd!”

“No more so than lots of other guesses. You wanted a guess. Okay, you’ve got one.”

“You risk your boons. Both of them.”

Etela said, “My mama isn’t—isn’t always like I would like her to be.”

“She was taken from her home,” I made my voice gentle, “and enslaved here. She’s an attractive woman, and she may have been used in ways you can’t understand. The shock disordered her mind. Soon we’ll go back to Celidon—your mother and you, Toug and Gylf and Mani and me, and even this Vil. Your mother will return home, and though the change may be slow, I think you’ll find she gets better.”

Thiazi, who had gone to the window, turned back to us. “I have not said I would not treat her. One of you—you there, sick woman. Put more wood on the fire.”

Etela did it. “Toug says there isn’t much more, ‘n we got to be careful.”

“Lord Thiazi believes things will return to normal soon,” I explained. “So do I.”

“Your boons...” Thiazi’s voice filled the room. “Your boons depend on your answering three questions. Questions I will put here and now. Answer, and I’ll grant them. Refuse as you’ve refused already, and I’ll grant neither.”

“You want me to talk,” I said. “Okay, before I hear your other questions I’ll say three things. My first is that I didn’t refuse to answer your question. I don’t know the answer and I told you so. My guess, if I made one, might be more valuable than this girl’s. But would it be worth, as much as yours? You know it wouldn’t. You were here both times. Your opinion deserves far more respect.”

“Do you accuse me?”

“Of course not. I won’t accuse anybody—that’s what you’re mad about. I’m just saying you’re bound to know more. What are the questions you mentioned?”

“I ask for your second and third remarks.”

“Okay. I remark that you’ve bound yourself to grant both my remaining boons, though you don’t know the last.”

“If you answer my questions, speaking out without quibbling about what your honor requires, I’ll grant it. Assuming I can.” For a second or two, Thiazi’s huge hands appeared to wash each other. “Whatever it is.”

Toug said, “I have an idea.”

Thiazi nodded. “We need some. Let us hear it.”

“Like Sir Able said, he wasn’t there when the king got stabbed the first time. He was down south in the mountains, fighting anybody who tried to come through a pass. This morning when the king got killed, he was pretty close, riding on the air with Queen Idnn. But all of us thought he was way far away. So maybe the person’s afraid of him and wouldn’t do anything except when he was gone.”

“Possible, but unlikely.” Thiazi paced the room again, an austere gray eminence, and his steps sounded even through the ankle-deep carpet. “Until today, he was here for no more than an hour or two. Sir Able, what is your third remark?”

“That though I lose my boons, you could lose more. Your foes, and even your friends, will accuse you of ingratitude.”

“My friends accuse me of nothing, since I have none.”

Etela said, “We’ll be your friends, if you’ll let us.”

“My foes accuse me of ingratitude already, and worse. Here is my first question. I warn you that you must answer all three.”

I nodded. “I understand.”

“Did King Arnthor send Lord Beel with instructions to assassinate King Gilling?”

“No.”

Thiazi paused in his pacing to glare at me. “A simple yes or no will not be sufficient. Explain yourself.”

“Certainly, My Lord. I’m not King Arnthor’s councilor, nor have I ever been. His reputation, however, is that of a hard but honorable man.”

Thiazi snorted. “My second question. In what ways will King Arnthor benefit by King Gilling’s death?”

“In none, My Lord. A king in Utgard could forbid the raids that lay waste to the north. No king can’t. Besides, King Gilling took a share of the proceeds, which discouraged raiding. As long as there’s no king, the raiders can keep whatever they get, and they’ll raid more.”

“While we war among ourselves, we’ll have neither time nor strength to spare for raiding.”

I nodded. “My Lord’s wiser than I am, though many may prefer profit to killing their relatives—still more, to being killed by them.”

“My final question. You’re to imagine that I am King Arnthor. I have explained to you my reasons for wishing King Gilling dead, and although they may not satisfy you, they satisfy me. I then confide that I’ve chosen Lord Beel to act for me. Would you approve my choice?”

“Absolutely, My Lord. When failure is preferable to success, the course of true wisdom is to choose the man most apt to fail. May I speak freely?”

“You may. In fact, I desire it.”

“As I told you, I know nothing directly of King Arnthor. I’ve never seen him. But I traveled with Lord Beel through Celidon and the Mountains of the Mice, and some way across the Plain of Jotunland. I feel I know him well. For diplomacy, he’s the man—levelheaded, courteous, and tactful, with few passions beyond family pride and a father’s natural love for his daughter. If I were a king who wanted peace with my neighbor, I’d look for somebody just like Lord Beel. But for an assassination...” I shook my head.

Etela said, “Doesn’t Lord Beel know magic, too? That’s what Toug said. If he does ‘n wanted to kill somebody, he’d do it like that.”

Thiazi sat down and stared at Etela, who met his gaze boldly. At length he said, “Would I be a fool to treat a child’s counsel as serious?”

I smiled. “A fourth question, My Lord?”

“Let us make it so.”

Mani cleared his throat, a soft and almost apologetic sound. “You limited yourself to three questions, My Lord Thiazi. Allow me to answer that, and so preserve your honor. Wisdom is wisdom, and doesn’t become foolishness in the mouth of another speaker. A child’s counsel should be heeded if it is wise. But not otherwise.”

“Could not the same be said of a cat’s?”

“It would take a wise man, My Lord Thiazi, to discover foolishness in a cat’s counsel.”

“Just so.” Thiazi bent toward Etela. “My child, we do not know that magic was not employed. It may have been used to render the assassin invisible, for example.”

“I didn’t know that,” Etela said.

“Naturally not. You have a lively intelligence, but little experience of the world, and less learning. You must take both into account.”

“Yes, sir. I mean, My Lord.”

“Would you laugh if I were to tell you that an invisible creature has been seen in this keep?”

“No, sir, I wouldn’t. Only I wouldn’t understand ’cause you just said invisible.”

“Invisibility is never complete,” Thiazi told her, “as every grimoire dealing with topic asserts. Beings rendered invisible by magic are partially or entirely visible under certain circumstances. These circumstances vary with the spell employed. Rain and strong and direct sunlight are perhaps the most common.”

Clearly impressed, Etela said, “Oooh...”

“Invisible entities sometimes cast shadows, more or less distinct, by which their presence may be detected. They also leave footprints in mud or snow, though that does not really represent a loss of invisibility.”

“Invisible cats,” Mani added, “are completely invisible only at night.”

“I did not know that,” Thiazi said, “and am pleased to have learned it. I repeat: would you be surprised to learn that an invisible being has been glimpsed in this keep?”

After a glance at Lynnet, Etela nodded.

“One has been, and the first glimpses followed Lord Beel’s arrival. I would suspect this being of having stabbed our king, were it not that it seems to fracture the cervical vertibrae. For obvious reasons, invisible beings rarely bear arms. When our king was stabbed, five others had their necks broken. The fact has been lost to sight in our distress over the wounding of our king. Yet it remains.”

I snorted. “Is this supposed to implicate Lord Beel? It seems to me it makes him less likely than ever. If the being is his—I don’t think it is—and he wanted to harm King Gilling, wouldn’t he use it? If it isn’t, and it didn’t stab the king, why are we talking about it?”

Mani raised a paw. “Well said. May I add that in my opinion you’ve answered Lord Thiazi’s questions as required?”

Thiazi nodded. “You’ll receive the boon you’ve asked—I’ll do what I can for this slave, although I can’t promise great improvement. What is your final boon?”

I had to think about things then; it was my last chance to turn back. When I looked up, I said, “I love a certain lady. Who she is doesn’t matter, she’s real and I can’t be happy without her. I’ve returned here to Jotunland for her sake, from a far country.”

Thiazi nodded.

“I’ve been told the Sons of Angr never love. If that’s right, why did King Gilling rise from his bed and rush out to his death at the sound of Queen Idnn’s voice?”

“You have been misinformed.” Thiazi’s words might have been the wind moaning through a skull. “We love. Shall I supply the fact which misled your informant?”

I shrugged. “If you please, My Lord.”

“We are never loved.”

“Not even by each other?”

“No. Your final boon?”

“All my life I’ve been aware of—of an emptiness in me, My Lord. There was a time when I acquired a new shield, and my servant, who’s my friend too, suggested that it be painted with a heart.” I hesitated. “I’m called Sir Able of the High Heart, My Lord.”

“I am aware of it.”

“Though I have never known why. My friend suggested that a heart might be painted on that shield. I was very proud of it—of the shield, I mean.” Toug looked away.

“And it came to me that if a heart were painted on it, it would have to be an empty one, thin lines of red dividing, curving upward, and coming together at the bottom. I said no. I felt, you see, that my heart was filled with love for the lady whose love brought me here. Just the same, a heart on my shield would need to be empty, and I knew it. You’ve got a room, a famous room since I heard of it long ago, with Here Abides Lost Love carved in the door. Is that true?”

Slowly Thiazi nodded.

“From what you said, I understand why you’ve got it and why you value it. It can’t be one of these doors—there’s nothing carved on them. Another door in this suite?”

Thiazi said nothing.

“May I, only once and as a great favor, go in? It’s the third boon I ask.”

“You will have to come out again.” Every word seemed weighted with double significance.

“I never thought I could stay there.”

“I will grant you both boons.” For a moment it seemed Thiazi would rise from his seat; he stayed where he was, his face gray, his huge hands grasping the arms of his chair. “But you must do something for me. You must take the slave woman with you. Will you do that?”

“Lynnet? Where’s the door?”

By a slight motion of his head, Thiazi indicated one of the five doors, the narrowest, a door of wood so pale that it looked almost white.

“Through there?” I stood and took Lynnet’s hand. “Come with me, My Lady.”

“Manticores and marigolds.” She rose, and her rising was neither awkward nor graceful, and neither swift no slow.

I said, “She’s sleepwalking.”

Thiazi shook his head. “A terrible rage burns in her.”

I looked at him. “I’m still a kid—a boy still—in a lot of things.”

“We envy your good fortune.”

“Is she really angry? At this moment?”

Etela said, “Mama never gets mad.”

“I would not advise you to look into her eyes.”

Toug cleared his throat. “I told you a little about the battle, Sir Able. She was—was fighting then. With the whip that came with the wagon we bought. I guess I didn’t say the Frost Giants were scared of her, but they were. She was blinding giants with it.”

I said, “I didn’t know that.”

“I know I didn’t say I was scared of her, too. She was on our side, but I was scared anyhow.”

“Yet you fought on.”

Toug shrugged. “Then Sir Garvaon came with men-at-arms, and they were scared about having to fight, and I could see it. I saw how scared they were, and I thought you tough men, you don’t know half, not even half.”

Thiazi said softly, “Angr was our mother’s name, Sir Able. We are descended from her, all of us. Thus we know something of anger. I tell you that this woman must control hers or destroy everything in her path. She seems a woman of wax to you?”

“Something like that, yes.”

“You will have seen a candle stub thrown into a fire. Remember it.”

“I’ll try. Come, Lady. I’ll open the door for you.”

Thirty steps took us to the door Thiazi had indicated, and although it was narrowest of all, it was wide and high for me; I had to reach over my head to lift the latch. When I touched it, I saw the graceful script of Aelfrice in the pallid wood:

The door seemed to weigh nothing, and it may be that we stepped through without opening it.