Mage Quest - Wizard of Yurt 3 (19 page)

“He didn’t trust you, either,” I said. I paused, pushing back terror, and continued, “So you didn’t actualy the?” More than anything else, at the moment I wanted reassurance that, whatever he might have done with his body, his dead soul had not been sent back to earth from hel.

But he did not give me that reassurance. “Because I did not trust Prince Dominic, I didn’t tel him that part of the magic necessary to uncover the Wadi’s secret was an opening spel I attached to the ruby ring itself.”

“What a shame,” I lied. “We left the ruby ring home inYurt.”

To my surprise, he seemed to believe me. The living map of the eastern kingdoms, I realized, would not give him enough detail to be able to see for himself. I presumed he didn’t trust King Warm’s chancelor either and had therefore not questioned him closely about the jewelry worn by the visitors from Yurt. I spread out my own hand ostentatiously, to show my eagle ring set with a tiny diamond.

“It’s probably gone from the Wadi by now anyway,” he said regretfuly. “When that servant left for Yurt, he took the ring with him, and I was—wel, too weak to stop him or folow him. And I certainly have never liked the idea of wandering the western kingdoms, threatened by school-trained wizards. So I have waited a long time for someone from Yurt to come east and have never even bothered going to the Wadi.”

“What was hidden there?”

My question came out much louder than I expected and hung in the air between us. The wizard half turned away, then smiled slowly. “Maybe I don’t trust you, either, Daimbert If you want to know that, you’l have to teach me much more of the magic of glass and steel.”

“Glass and steel?” I said cautiously.

“That’s what we cal school magic here in the eastern kingdoms, your technical magic that can keep working even without an active mind saying the spels. Our magic is a magic of bone and blood.” I had assumed that the wizards of the eastern kingdoms, without anything comparable to the organization of the wizards’ school in the west, would be hard pressed to restrain warfare. Instead, it sounded as though war and death were their normal occupations.

“What did you give King Warm’s chancelor in return for the information that we were coming?”

“You have so many questions, Daimbert!” he said, showing his teeth again. “And you’ve given me no information yet. Before I tel you anything else, I want to know that spel of yours that alows western wizards to live wel past two hundred.”

I considered this for a moment, keeping my eyes on my companion’s black satin suit because I didn’t want to look at his face. The powerful spel that would slow down—though never reverse—natural aging was not taught until near the end of the eight-year program, and the teachers always impressed on us that our oaths to help humanity did not include meddling with nature s cycle to give al our friends an extra century or two of life

But a wizard, even one here, surely knew that spel anyway. By showing him the spel I might be able to convince him that I had no secret knowledge he wanted. “Give me some paper,” I said. “I’l write it out.”

It was a long spel and took a while. While I wrote, I thought over what little information I had from him so far. If King Warm, via his chancelor, had some sort of connection with the wizards of the eastern kingdoms, then that might explain why Evrard had caled him a sorcerer. The strange form of magic that had shaped this castle and maybe even the physical being of the man across from me might look like the black arts, at least to someone like Evrard who had never actualy met a demon.

This would mean that Elerius had not lived for twelve years in the castle of a man who had sold his soul to the devil, which was a relief, though I continued to suspect he might have picked up some form of magic he would prefer not to share with the masters of the school.

I stil didn’t know what connection there might be, if any, between Joachim’s brother on the one hand, with his talk of King Solomon’s Pearl, disappearing caravans, and the very real present his wife had tried to send with us and, on the other, the mysterious object of which Prince Dominic had learned shortly before his death. The only person who might understand the connection was King Warin. And I doubted Warm would trust this wizard either.

I passed the pieces of paper across to Prince Vlad. “Here it is, but I’m sure you already know this spel.”

He seized the paper avidly, but I thought I could again see disappointment in his features as he scanned the spel. “But this wil do nothing to make someone younger!”

“That’s what I told you.” I hesitated, then pushed on. “For that you need the supernatural.”

He shot me a sudden glance from his stone eyes. “Or to know something that apparently even you don’t know.”

How to give motion to inanimate objects, I thought, how to prop up a sagging and decaying body with the dead flesh and blood of others or even with wood and stone. If he had had to rebuild a badly wounded body with incredibly complex magic, no wonder he had not been able to restrain Prince Dominic’s servant from returning to Yurt “I don’t know anything about it,” I agreed.

“Then it may prove less useful stopping you than I thought,” he said slowly, “unless—unless you actualy did bring the ruby ring with you from Yurt.” Caught in my lie, I tried to brazen my way out “We had no idea there was anything magical about that ring itself,” I said, which was true. “You must know that we stopped at Prince Dominic’s tomb to see if it might have any secrets to yield, which we wouldn’t have bothered doing if we’d known the secret was back in the treasury of Yurt.” I paused, then tried to give him an intimidating glare. “If you say you have information for me, why not prove it by teling me who opened that tomb? Was it you?”

This surprised him. “Why would anyone open Dominic’s tomb?”

“You’re lying,” I said, to conceal the fact that I had been myself. “You said we would exchange knowledge, but you opened the prince’s tomb to get something you hid there when he was buried.” He didn’t take the bait. Instead he shook his head. “Maybe that servant—he always was a fool—let some information drop on his way home. Or our source of information on the Wadi Harhammi may have regretted letting that information out—and, before you ask, I’m not going to tel you what that source was.”

“But you know the opening spel,” I said suddenly, not admitting that we had the ring with us but not bothering to deny it any more, either. “That must be more than anyone else has—except, possibly, this

‘source’ of yours. At least one other person is searching desperately for that information but doesn’t have it. Maybe what Prince Dominic caled something wonderful, something marvelous, is stil there! Do you want to come with us to the East to look for it?”

I jumped to my feet as I spoke. This wizard with the artificial eyes was the last person I would normaly have chosen for a traveling companion, but if he was with us where I could watch him, I would not have to worry what he was doing behind our backs.

“I do not leave my castle,” he said slowly. “I had hoped that in return for the information you need, you would find it for me and bring it here.” Something that even such a powerful wizard could covet for fifty years must be marvelous indeed. “You clearly don’t have any knowledge I need or want,” I said. “You’ve been bluffing, Prince.”

“I could tel you what’s concealed in the Wadi. I think you would prefer to know before, rather than after, you use that opening spel.”

“Come with us, men, and tel us as we go,” I said, “orwe’l find out for ourselves anyway. I’m offering to take you along, but if you stay here you know I won’t be back.”

“You won’t know what to do with it, even with the opening spel, even with the ruby. Swear to me by al the forces of magic that you wil bring it back and I wil reveal its powers to you when you arrive.”

“And once you have it, you’l get rid of us? Not likely, Prince.”

His eyes came fuly open as he pushed his face close to mine. “If you try to rush out of here now, even if your magic can fight past the powers that guard me, I think you’l find that armies wil pursue you al across the eastern kingdoms—until they catch you and kil you,”

I grabbed his arm. It felt almost like a normal human arm. “Then our only safety is having you with us. I don’t care if you don’t want to leave this castle. You’re going to now!” With force and magic I dragged him from the room. He struggled against me, but I was stronger. The corridor, unlit by any candle, was completely black. I yeled out a spel and, for an instant, it was lit up as bright as day, and I could see the corridor’s end and the studded nail doors, opening onto night.

I started to rush down the corridor, then heard a gasp from the wizard that sounded like genuine pain. I paused, unsure if this was a trap, and turned on the moon and stars on my belt buckle. They cast a pale glow, no brighter than a candle, but I could see his eyes squeezed shut and a strange, almost melting quality to one cheek.

“Why did you shine that light?” he said in a low, nearly indistinct voice.

To see to get out of here and to scare back your ghouls!”

“You wil not escape from here. You think those doors are safety, but outside it’s midnight and my wolves wil meet you. Let me go and I shal let you live.” My heart was pounding too hard to make any sort of rational decision possible. “I don’t know how long I’ve been in your castle, but it must stil be sometime in the afternoon. Come with me and I’l let you live!”

In the glow of my belt buckle, I hurried on, stil dragging him with me. He was putting up very little resistance now.

But as we reached the door I heard him chuckle. Just outside the door, wolves were howling.

“It is not midnight,” I said between clenched teeth. A flash of lightning hit just below us on the hil; for a second I could see the wolf pack, enormous furry beasts, nearly as tal at the shoulder as I, their eyes and teeth glowing phosphorescent.

The natural world, I told myself, was much more powerful than any wizardry. Prince Vlad could make it appear night, but it would not actualy be night until the earth had turned. Even his storm clouds, brought with the magic he caled the magic of blood and bone, could be blown away by the wind.

Especialy if that wind was aided by weather spels. Standing just inside the door, stil holding onto him, I shouted the spels that should drive a storm higher, further away, that wil bring the sunshine back out over a threatened crop.

And the sky split open. If I saw the Last Judgment with living eyes, I thought irrelevandy, I would know what to expect.

Black, tattered clouds puled back, letting the late afternoon sun pour its light onto the wizard’s hil. The wolves, even bigger and closer than I had thought, gave me a startled look, then turned and trotted away.

But everything else lay revealed with the sickening, partialy decayed look of something rediscovered after long burial. Only the obsidian castle, with its window eyes and gaping mouth, stayed solid and untorn.

The wizard shrieked. I released his arm involuntarily, then stared at him in horror. He had his face in his hands, but two round stones dropped from between bis fingers and roled away.

I went down on my knees beside him. “My Godl Have I kiled you?”

“Don’t—mention—God—to—a—wizard,” he said very slowly, as though having to force out each word. Several other parts of his body now seemed loose, only held in place by his clothes. He dropped his hands and turned his eyeless face toward me. One cheek was nearly gone. “I told you I never left my castle,” he said, slightly more strongly. “You haven’t kiled me, you’l be disappointed to discover. But it wil take me years to rebuild this body. Curse you, Daimbert!”

He tried to make it a resounding shout, but it came out as a half-stifled rattle. I didn’t wait to see what particular curses he might cal down on me. I fled down the hil, pausing just once to look back and see him crawling in through the door of his obsidian castle.

“He’s not dead,” I said, lying stetched out on the ground with my face on my arms, trembling al over. “But I don’t think he’l be able to come after us.” Joachim put a hand on my shoulder, but no one said anything for a moment. “I think you should have kiled him,” said Hugo. “After al, he wanted to kil you.”

“That was a direat,” I said. “He didn’t want me dead so much as he wanted information—information which in fact does not exist.”

“He betrayed my father by withholding information,” said Dominic darkly. “Even after fifty years, that betrayal must be avenged.”

“I avenged your father without meaning to,” I said. “I never even imagined that the wizard’s physical body was only held together by spels that would dissolve in daylight. At least I know why he’s never come to Yurt after the ruby ring.”

“I should have avenged my father myself,” Dominic muttered. The one useful thing we’ve learned is that whatever he wanted us to find in the Wadi is probably stil there—and involves my ring. Al the business with Arnulf and Warin and the bandits must be something entirely separate.”

“Unless King Solomon’s Pearl is real,” I said in a low voice, “and that’s what’s in the Wadi. If it realy wil give someone his hearts desire, that wizard is hoping it wil give him the ability to rebuild his body properly.”

There was another long pause. “You realize,” said Hugo to me at last, “that we never saw anything—not the hil, not the castle, not even the wolves.”

“It’s al real,” I said, making myself rol around and sit up. “It’s concealed by magic, but it’s stil there. That’s why I know he’s stil alive—the spels are much too complicated to be maintained without an active mind behind them. Keeping those spels going wil take al his energy for a long, long time.”

“Then let’s go,” said Ascelin. “The further we are from real wolves the better.” He offered me a hand to pul me up. “So he admired my ability to leave no tracks, you say?” he added with a grin.

We sat on the terrace outside an inn, eating griled fish and salad with dark-cured olives and drinking white wine. A trelis covered with climbing flowers shaded us from the afternoon sun. Off in one direction we could see sage-covered hils, scattered with gray-green olive trees and, in the other, sunlight flashing on the Central Sea. Red sails leaned in the wind as ships large and smal headed in or out of harbor. We didn’t recognize the kind of fish we were eating or most of the herbs in the salad and none of us cared.