Tangle Box (16 page)

Questor sighed. “No, I don’t suppose he will.” He paused thoughtfully. “Abernathy, do you think I look anything like that man?”

Abernathy stared. “What an odd question.”

“Well, it bothers me that I might. I mean, we are both in the conjuring business, aren’t we? And sometimes they say that all conjurers look alike. You’ve heard that, haven’t you? Besides, we’re both rather tall and slight of build and
at times awkward, and we both have rather prominent noses and … well, sharp features …”

Abernathy held up one paw deliberately. “You look as much like Horris Kew as I look like his bird. Please, no more of this. Just decide if we see them tonight or not. I suggest we do not put it off.”

Questor nodded. “No, I agree. Let’s get it over with.”

They went out of the room, down the hall, and descended two flights of stairs to where visitors were kept waiting until they could be received. They made a strange pair, the white-haired, gangly wizard with his colorful patched robes and the dog with his shaggy coat and fastidious dress. Questor grumbled the whole way, griping about this, bemoaning that, keeping such an edge on things that at last Abernathy was forced to ask him in rather rude fashion to be quiet. Two old friends whose shared history made them inseparable in spite of themselves, they could track each other’s life steps as if the paths were already laid out before them.

“You know, Abernathy,” the wizard confided, as they reached the ground floor of the castle and prepared to turn into the front hall. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think Horris Kew had something to do with Holiday’s disappearance. It’s just the sort of thing he would precipitate with his unbalanced magic, conjuring up trouble here and there, all willy-nilly. But he doesn’t have that kind of power!” He thought it over. “He doesn’t have enough brains either.”

Abernathy sniffed. “It doesn’t take brains to be dangerous.”

They walked down the front hall to the anteroom where Horris Kew and his bird would be waiting and stepped inside.

Horris rose from the bench on which he had been sitting. The bird was perched on the back of the bench, sharp-eyed and sleek. Next to them on the floor rested two iron-bound wooden trunks.

“Questor Thews and Abernathy!” Horris Kew exclaimed with what seemed excessive delight. “Good evening to you! Thank you for coming to see me so quickly. I am deeply appreciative.”

“Horris, let’s skip past the pleasantries, shall we? What are you doing back here? As I recall, you were told to come back when the High Lord sent for you. Has he done so without my knowledge?”

The conjurer smiled sheepishly. “No, regrettably, he has not. I continue to live in hope and expectation.” He brightened. “That is not why I have come, Questor. I am here for another reason entirely. I have some very exciting news to share.” He paused and glanced past them hopefully. “I don’t suppose that the High Lord is about?”

Questor grimaced. “Not at the moment. What is this news you bring, Horris? Nothing dealing with farm animals, I trust.”

“No, no,” the other answered quickly. “I remember my promise and I will not break it. No conjuring. No, this is something else entirely.” Again he paused. “May I confide it to you, to the two of you, as Court Wizard and Scribe, since the High Lord is otherwise occupied?”

Questor said something in response, but Abernathy was looking at the bird. Was he losing his mind or had he heard the bird snicker? He glared at the myna, but the myna simply ruffled its feathers indifferently and looked away.

“Well, then,” Horris Kew declared, and cleared his throat officiously. “There are times, more than a few I might add, when stress from work and the burden of our obligations wears us down and we find we need some sort of amusement or diversion to relax us. I am sure you will agree that this is true. I speak now not just of the high-born, but of the common man, the workers in the fields and factories, in the markets and shops of our farms and cities. I speak of every man and woman, of every boy and girl all struggling to make their lives a better and more productive—”

“Get to the point, Horris,” Questor interrupted wearily. “It has been a long day.”

Horris paused, smiled, and shrugged. “Indeed. A diversion, then. A way of removing stress from our lives for a few hours. I believe I have found something that will provide that relief.”

“Very commendable,” Abernathy snapped. “But someone already made that discovery quite a long time ago. They are called games. Sometimes they are played in groups, sometimes by a single individual. There are all forms of them. Have you discovered a new game? Is that what you are here about?”

Horris Kew laughed politely, though he seemed to be doing so through clenched teeth. “Oh, no, this is not about games. This is something else entirely.” He paused, then leaned forward conspiratorially. “A mind’s eye crystal!” he whispered hoarsely.

“A what?” Questor Thews demanded, his brow furrowing.

“A mind’s eye crystal,” the other repeated carefully. “Do you know of it?”

Questor did not, but he did not want to admit to being ignorant of anything to Horris Kew. “A little something, perhaps.” He pursed his lips. “But tell me about it anyway.”

“A crystal,” Horris said, holding up a single finger. “A crystal that you look into as you would a mirror. And when you do, it shows you images of the past and of the future, images of yourself and those you love. The images are pleasant and welcome, and they take you away from your troubles for a time. The perfect diversion from your cares.” He rubbed his hands. “Here, let me show you.”

He reached into his supplicant’s robes and pulled forth a crystal to hold up before them. It was about the width and length of an average thumb, five-sided, pointed at one end, flat at the other, and clear enough to see through.

“Would you like to try it?” he asked Questor Thews, and held out the crystal for the wizard to take.

“Wait a minute.” Abernathy was between them instantly. “This thing is magic, is it?”

Horris nodded calmly. “It is.”

“I thought you said you would give up conjuring unless asked. You swore to the High Lord that you would give it up, in fact. What happened to your vow, Horris? Where did this crystal come from if you did not conjure it up?”

Horris Kew held up his hands in a placating manner. “I have not broken my vow, Abernathy. This”—he held forth the crystal a second time—“was shown to me in a dream. I was asleep in the deep woods … uh,” he hesitated, “north. I was asleep, having fasted and contemplated the misdealings and mistakes of my life all day after returning from my visit here, and I dreamed. In my dream I was shown this mind’s eye crystal. It was a vision of great power. It told me of the crystal and where it might be found. It told me to seek it out. When I woke, I was compelled to do so. I did and I found it as promised. Knowing that I have not as yet had my exile lifted, I felt compelled to bring it to you.” He paused, looking down at his feet. “I admit I hoped that it might in some small way influence you to take me back.”

Abernathy was not impressed. He stood his ground, dog face fixed and dog eyes searching. There was a lie in here somewhere, he was sure of it. “You have never, in your entire life, employed a magic that did not end badly for anyone who came into contact with it. I cannot believe that this mind’s eye crystal will be any different.”

“But I am not the same man!” Horris Kew protested with a dramatic gesture. “I have changed, Abernathy. I have repented my former life and resolved to follow a different path. This crystal is my first step down that path.” He drew himself up. “Tell you what. Why don’t you try it out first, instead of Questor Thews? That way if there is a problem,
Questor can use his formidable magic to do with me as he will. Surely you agree he is more than a match for me in case this is some sort of trick. And anyway, why would I chance anything so foolish this close to the dungeons into which you have already indicated you would like to see me thrown?”

He had a point. Abernathy hesitated. “I would not put anything past you, Horris,” he muttered.

“Hooray for Horris, hooray for Horris!” the bird cawed suddenly, and clacked its beak.

Abernathy glared at the bird. “What do you think, Questor Thews?” he asked, and glanced back at the other.

The wizard’s mouth was a tight line. “There are guards all about. If this goes awry, Horris goes into the keep and stays there. I stand ready if there is magic to be combated.” He shook his head. “It’s up to you, Abernathy.”

“You will not be sorry,” Horris offered, advancing the crystal another few inches toward the scribe. “I promise.”

Abernathy sighed. “Very well. Anything to put this matter to bed. What do I do?”

Horris was beaming. “Just take the crystal, hold it in your hand, look into it, and think happy thoughts.”

Abernathy grimaced. “Good grief. All right, give it to me.”

He reached out, took the crystal from the other’s hands, held it up before him, and stared into it. Nothing happened. Sure enough, Abernathy thought disdainfully. No surprise here. He was supposed to think happy thoughts, though, so he tried to picture something that would make him feel good and came up with an image of Horris and his bird in a dungeon cell. That made him feel better right away, he decided, and started to smile in spite of himself.

In the next instant the crystal brightened and locked him into it, drawing his gaze into its multi-faceted depths, pulling him out of himself and down into its suddenly brilliant
light. He gasped. What was he seeing? There was something there, something wondrous, something familiar …

Abernathy saw it clearly then. There was a man in the light, striding out to greet the day from his home, waving hello to friends, calling out to passersby. The man was carrying books in his arms and was on his way to his day’s work. He wore glasses and was dressed in the ceremonial clothing of a Court Scribe.

No!

The man was Abernathy as he used to be. Abernathy as a human being. Abernathy before he had been turned into a dog. Himself, once more.

Sudden joy surged through the dog as he watched, a happiness he had not felt for years. He was himself again in the crystal’s image! He was restored! It was his greatest wish in life, to become the man he had been—a wish he had not dared even contemplate upon discovering that Questor Thews, having turned him into a dog, could not turn him back into a man. Countless attempts to remedy the situation had failed, and Abernathy had given up all hope. But now, here, in this crystal’s image, was a chance to feel again what it was like to be a man! He could sense the other’s body—as if it were his own. He could experience anew what it was to be human.

The emotions the magic generated were too powerful to bear all at once. He closed his hand quickly about the crystal and snatched the vision away. He could barely breathe. “How did you do that?” he whispered in disbelief.

“I did nothing,” Horris Kew responded promptly. “And we could not see what you saw. Only the holder of the crystal sees the vision. It is his own, personal revelation, private and inviolate. Do you understand now the uses for such a magic?”

Abernathy nodded, thinking of how wonderful it would be to call up that image of himself anytime he wanted to remember
what his life had once been like. “Yes, I do,” he replied softly.

Now it was Questor who pushed forward. “This thing works?” he asked, turning his old friend about, seeing the look in his eyes. “Well, indeed, I guess it does. Are you all right?”

Abernathy nodded, unable to speak, thinking again of what the image had shown him, of himself restored to who and what he had been. He was fighting hard to stay calm, to keep what he was feeling inside.

Neither saw the brief glance exchanged by Horris Kew and Biggar.
Well, well
, the glance said.

“You can appreciate the enormous potential for this magic,” Horris said quickly, “Escape from the drudgery and stress of everyday life is only a moment away if you possess a mind’s eye crystal. No group participation required, no equipment needed, no time necessary. Use the crystal on a break from your work and return refreshed!” He smiled benevolently. “Don’t you feel happy and rested, Abernathy?” he pressed.

Abernathy swallowed. “Yes,” he agreed. “I do.”

“There you are, then!” Horris beamed. “Abernathy, this crystal is yours. I want you to have it. A gift, for giving me a chance to fulfill my hopes.”

“Thank you, Horris,” Abernathy replied, genuinely pleased, already envisioning his next look into the light. All suspicions of the conjurer’s motives were forgotten. “Thank you very much.”

“You see,” Horris continued, anticipating Questor Thews, who was about to offer a further objection, “I have a few more of these to give out. Quite a few more, in fact.”

He turned to one of the iron-bound trunks, released the catch, and threw open the lid. The trunk was filled to the brim with mind’s eye crystals.

“Thousands of them,” he offered, making a sweeping gesture. “The vision showed me one, but when I followed
the pathway to where it was hidden, I discovered all these. Two trunkfuls, Questor. I have brought them both. I want you to have them. A little penance, perhaps, for my past misdeeds. I cannot comprehend why I was chosen to find them, but I am grateful that I was and I have decided to accept responsibility for their proper use. So I entrust them now to you. My gift to Landover. Pass them out to her people and let them enjoy the images they find therein. A little happiness to dull the edges of their more stressful moments.”

Questor Thews and Abernathy stared at the trunkful of crystals, openmouthed. “Perhaps with the crystals to occupy people’s time there will be less violence,” Horris Kew went on thoughtfully, looking off somewhere into the room’s rafters as if seeking a higher truth. “Perhaps there will be fewer wars and killings over meaningless things when there are so many more pleasant and harmless ways to gain diversion. Perhaps there will be less time spent fomenting rumors that lead to mischief.” He gave the wizard and the dog a surreptitious glance. As he said that, he did not miss the look that passed between them. “Fewer loose tongues wagging on about whether Landover’s matters are being handled as they should and whether her leaders are leading as they ought to.”