With a Single Spell

CHAPTER 24

“This is fascinating,” Tobas said as he lay back on the velvet-covered couch in one of Karanissa’s favorite, sitting rooms. “That must be why that room doesn’t have any windows; the angle of the sunlight would have to match exactly. And a rainy day might be a real problem. These tapestries aren’t as clever as I thought.”

Karanissa, on a nearby chair, shrugged. “They’re clever enough to get us stuck here.”

“The notes said something about time being tricky; that must be what he meant, the angle of the sunlight. I wonder, will a tapestry just not do anything if the light’s wrong? The note said that transit time could be affected; maybe, if you step in at the wrong time, you just aren’t anywhere until the light changes.”

The witch shuddered slightly. “If that were it, why didn’t I just vanish completely when I tried to use the tapestry? I should be in limbo somewhere, waiting for poor Derry’s skeleton to disappear, and that would leave you stranded out front, starving to death, unless you could talk the servants into opening the door, anyway.”

Tobas thought about that. “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe there’s a difference between predictable, regular changes, like sunlight, and unpredictable changes, like moving the skeleton. Or maybe that scene will never exist again, the roof will fall in before the skeleton is removed, or something, so that the tapestry couldn’t work at all.”

“I don’t like that idea, either,” Karanissa said, hunching forward.

“It’s just a suggestion,” Tobas said with a shrug. He thought for another moment, then said, “I guess it couldn’t just create a new world because the room used to exist exactly the way it’s shown. Once the spell was established, going to one place, it couldn’t switch to another; it could only shut itself down.”

The witch said nothing.

“And as far as one tapestry changing transit time while another doesn’t work at all, I suppose that’s possible, too. Wizardry is funny stuff. Some little variation in the original spell, something too small to detect, could make a difference, the spell would still work pretty much the same, but would react differently to special circumstances. Roggit told me about things like that, where a spell could work just the same, but would need a different countercharm, depending on whether the wizard held his left thumb up or sideways on one gesture. With something as complicated as the tapestries, I’d guess there will just about always be a little variation, I mean, the preparatory spell takes twenty-four hours! Nobody can do exactly the same motions, down to a fraction of an inch, over an entire day and night. And the magic goes on into the weaving, too, so even the scene itself might affect the spell.”

Karanissa shook herself, then asked, “Well, whatever the reason is, what do we do now?”

“I’m not sure; I guess we could put the skeleton into the scene, weave it in somehow, but I’m not sure that would work. I think I’d have to completely redo the entire tapestry...” He stopped dead for a moment, then demanded, “What am I thinking of? That’s stupid. The tapestry’s fine the way it is. What we have to do is remove the skeleton; then the scene will be right again.”

“How are we going to do that?” she demanded. “We can’t get back through the tapestry to move it until it’s been moved!”

“Oh, come on, Kara,” Tobas replied. “You’re a witch! You don’t have to reach out and touch something with your hands to move it. Can’t you move the skeleton from here?”

“No, I can’t!” she snapped. “I need to know where something is relative to myself, before I can do anything to it. I can sense such things ordinarily, I have the witch-sight and the witch-smell and I can hear minds and read hearts, but not from this world into another. We aren’t anywhere here. I don’t know where to look or how to look. I tried to call for help when I first found out I was stuck here and I couldn’t do it; I’m cut off.”

“Oh.” Tobas looked thoughtfully at the ceiling.

“Can’t you do something? Don’t you have some spell that will remove the skeleton?”

“I don’t know,” Tobas said. “I can’t think of any off hand.”

“What about that dream-spell. Couldn’t you-”

Tobas sat up, cutting her off. “Sure! Of course I could! At least, that is, I think so. It’s supposed to work no matter where the other person is. And we know wizardry works between worlds, even if witchcraft doesn’t, because you said Derithon got some kind of alarm or message from his other castle while he was here with you.”

“That’s right,” the witch said. “He did. You can call someone to come and move the skeleton.”

“I have to send the dream to someone specific; that’s the way the spell works.”

“Well, so what? You must know somebody.”

“It’s got to be someone who knows where that castle is, though; I can only send a message a few minutes long, and I couldn’t give clear directions. Not in a dream, anyway. I don’t know how much anyone would remember of one of these dreams when he woke up, either. The Lesser Spell doesn’t work in both directions; it just sends, it doesn’t receive, so I can’t check, can’t be sure I’m getting through.” He hesitated. “There’s only one other person who knows where the castle is; it’ll have to be him. I hope he hasn’t gone and fallen off a cliff or something.”

“Who?”

“His name is Peren the White; we met in Dwomor, no, in Ethshar, really. He went off eastward when we split up, across the mountains. I hope I can talk him into coming back.”

“Well, you’ll certainly have to try.”

“I suppose I will.” He lay back again, running the plan through his mind to see if there was anything obviously wrong with it.

It seemed sound. He would call Peren with the Lesser Spell of Invaded Dreams. Peren would come and remove Derithon’s skeleton, restoring the hidden room to its original condition and allowing the tapestry to work once more. He and Karanissa would be able to just step through into the fallen castle then. It should work, he decided.

“You called it the Lesser Spell,” Karanissa remarked, breaking into his thoughts. “Is there a greater one?”

“Well, yes, there is,” Tobas admitted. “And it works both ways at once, both sending and receiving, and gives the user complete control of someone’s dreams for up to half an hour, according to the book. But it’s much harder. It uses blood and silver and... well, it’s harder. Probably fourth-order.”

“You said you thought you could do a third-order spell; is there that much difference?”

“Oh, I suppose not, not really, but I’m not sure I’ve done any third-order. They might have just been tricky second-order, really.”

“Well, what harm can it do to try?”

“I don’t know, that’s what scares me.”

“I think you should try it,” Karanissa said emphatically.

“That’s because you don’t know any better. There are wizards who live their entire lives without getting past third-order spells, and you want me to go from a single spell to fourth-order in a couple of sixnights!”

“Oh, Tobas, don’t get so upset! You’re the wizard here; you do as much as you think you can. But fourth-order doesn’t sound like so much; you said Derithon must have used something higher than seventh to have created this castle, didn’t you?”

He nodded. “It would need at least that, but Derithon was probably a very talented wizard and two hundred years old. I’m seventeen, or more likely eighteen by now, and I don’t really know if I have much aptitude for wizardry or not. And these things aren’t just one-two-three, really; second-order is supposed to be eight or ten times as difficult as first, and third-order ten times harder than that, and so on. First-order spells are easy for me now, and I can handle second, but fourth...”

“Oh.” Her voice was small. “I hadn’t realized it worked that way. I don’t know much about wizardry.”

“There’s no reason you should. I’m sorry that I’m not a more powerful wizard, but I’m not; I’m just a failed apprentice, really. I’m going to go try that spell, though — the lesser one. I ought to be able to handle that. You go to bed now and get some sleep, I want to test it on you, see if I can send you a message in your dreams.”

“All right,” she agreed. “I could use a nap, anyway.” She rose, yawning.

They separated in the hallway without touching one another, he bound for the study and she for her chamber. Tobas glanced back over his shoulder at her departing figure and caught Karanissa looking back at him. He faced forward again, smiling.