The Ladder in the Sky (12 page)

On the point of leaving the room, another thing occurred to him, and he paused. It was bad that Rureth and the doctor, or anyone at all, should fear him. The black things did not harm each other, and where there was no conception of damage or destruction, fear could not exist; equally, when there was no danger of damage or destruction, it was illogical for people to be afraid of his powers.

He reassured them. When he had done so, he went out of the room, and out of their lives, and out of their minds. For good.

XXII

This was the place she had been told to come to. She looked at the door for a long time before going in, as though finding the decision to enter a difficult one. Still, she felt so desperate, and the tales she had heard were so convincing.

She opened the door and went in.

Like most houses of the traditional Berak pattern, this one consisted of an open ground floor with pillars the bases of which formed cushioned seats, and another floor above. On one of the seats was a man in dark clothes, who looked up as she entered. He was quite young, she saw, and rather good-looking, although he had a certain air about him which made her sure at once that he was the man she was looking for.

She said, “Are you—are you the conjurer?”

“Some people call me a conjurer,” he said with an ironical half-bow. “They bring their problems to me, and I help if I can.”

He indicated a seat facing his own, and she moved to it, glancing about her. The house was well appointed; he was clearly prosperous, and he seemed quite affable—not what she had been subconsciously expecting.

“What can I do for you?” he said, leaning back on his own seat and studying her with a thoughtful expression.

“I need—I don’t know what I need,” she said. “I need out, if you like. I was born here, in the Dyasthala, which has gone now.”

“The thieves’ quarter, they called it,” the conjurer nodded.

“That’s right. When it was cleared away, I went to work on Vashti for a while—five years. I had to get away because of a man; I thought I could make myself independent in that time. What I didn’t consider was that I had only Berak to come back to. And things have gone wrong since my return, and I’m—oh, trapped.”

The conjurer nodded. “Yes, Berak is no place—yet—for people like you. And it’s not easy to get out of. The mines on Vashti don’t recruit casual labor any more, do they? And there’s little opportunity elsewhere on this planet. So you came to me. Why?”

She made a vague gesture. “I’d heard talk. About how you could help people change their lives even if they hadn’t any special talent. I haven’t, which is half my trouble. I’m too ordinary.”

“No,” the conjurer said. “Not ordinary.”

“Thank you. But I know different. I wouldn’t have thought about coming to you if I wasn’t so hopelessly confused. I always used to scoff at conjurers and witches and people like that. In the Dyasthala they were all fakes, and everyone knew it, and only went along with the pretense because they used to squeeze money out of superstitious rich people, who were fair game. But there is one very odd story which you hear now. You aren’t from Berak, are you?”

“As a matter of fact, I am,” the conjurer said.

“Are you? I—well, then you know about Luth’s rebellion.”

The conjurer nodded.

“The other day,” she said, “I met a woman. I don’t think she can have been old, but she looked old, and she talked so wildly I thought she was crazy. Now I think perhaps she was just drunk, but I’m not sure. She made the most extravagant claims. She said she was Bryda, who used to be Luth’s mistress, and she told me about a conjurer who made Luth’s escape possible.” Looking doubtful, she broke off. “Was it nonsense?” she added after a moment’s pause.

“No,” the conjurer said.

“You aren’t the same conjurer, are you?”

“No to that too,” was the smiling answer. “But we’re in the same line of business, you might say. And Bryda may have been drunk, and she may by now be crazy, even, but what she told you was true—Clary.”

“How did you—?” she began, and could not finish.

Kazan got up, still smiling, and took from a nearby table a simple ring of gold and copper with a curious chased design around it. He said, “You’ll know in a moment. I’ve been hoping that word would get to you. I’ve been waiting.”

He did something to the ring which made it expand, and laid it down on the floor at Clary’s feet. Then he came behind her where he could lay his hand on her shoulder reassuringly.

“Don’t be afraid of anything,” he said. “You used not to be afraid of devils. You don’t have to be afraid now. There’s much that I owe you, and I want to repay it.”

“But—!” she said in a timid voice.

“Wait,” Kazan said.

The ring on the floor began to glow with a faint, faint blue radiance. Darkness seemed to gather within the circle, and out of the darkness looked two ember eyes that were not at all like eyes.

“What world is this?” said an awesome voice like a gale in a range of mountains.

Kazan tightened his hand on Clary’s trembling shoulder and replied.