Spellsinger 04 - The Moment Of The Magician Read online

  Spellsinger 04 - The Moment Of The Magician

  Foster, Alan Dean

  "And I say Opiode should give way!"

  The speaker. Asmouelle the tamandua, stood be-

  fore the narrow wooden oval that was the Quorum

  table and glared at his colleagues. His nose was

  damp and glistening, and so was the table. Most

  everything stayed damp in Quasequa, a city built on

  numerous islands in the middle of the Lake of

  Sorrowful Pearls. Causeways joined the islands together,

  and each isle sent its duly chosen representative to

  ^ argue for it in the Quorum.

  This afternoon the arguments raged hotter than

  the air outside the Quorumate. The members were

  debating the selection of an advisor in matters ar-

  cane and magical.

  The unexpected challenger for this mystic position

  sat and brooded in a chair at the far end of the

  Quorum chamber. Reluctant attendants saw to his

  needs. They were afraid of the newcomer. So were

  several members of the Quorum, though none

  confessed such unseemly fears openly.

  Two members openly supported the challenger,

  but not out of fear. Kindore and Vazvek saw a

  chance to better themselves by striking a bargain

  with the newcomer for their aid. The rest of the

  2 Alan Dean Poster

  Quorum regarded this naked display of sycophancy

  with disgust.

  And now Asmouelle appeared to have joined

  them.

  The tamandua sat down. Domurmur the lynx rose

  and spoke dispassionately. "And / say this wanderer

  has yet to prove himself capable of anything stronger

  than bad breath." His paws rested on the ancient

  table, which was as black and shiny as a bottle of

  oil.

  Kindore responded with an insult of some subtlety,

  and once again the debate dissolved into chaos. It

  ceased only when Trendavi raised a hand for silence.

  He did not stand. Long experience had taught him

  that it was not necessary for a legislator to jump up

  and down like a toy in a box to make a point.

  The aged pangolin squinted down the length of

  the table, studying the challenger silently for a moment.

  Then he nodded to his left.

  "Opiode the Sly has been principal advisor in

  arcane matters to the Quorum of Quasequa for

  nearly thirty years. Skillfully and well has he served.

  The city and its citizens have profited much from his

  advice." Trendavi showed scaly palms. "As have we

  all."

  Words of agreement rose from the members while

  Kindore and Vazvek were conspicuous by their silence.

  The newcomer said nothing.

  "It is true that this Markus person"—and Trendavi

  gestured toward the individual in the solitary chair,

  who sat smiling to himself as if at some secret joke—

  "has demonstrated to the Quorum nothing more

  than a facile tongue."

  Now the newcomer stood and approached the

  black table. "Since you credit me with it, let me use

  it, friends." The towering form of his personal body-

  guard moved to stand close to the door. "Can I come

  TSOS MOMENT Of THB MACMCiAflr 3

  nearer?" He smiled pleasantly and even Domurlnur

  had to admit that this Markus the Ineluctable, as he

  styled himself, could be downright ingratiating in

  manner when he so desired. Especially for a human,

  a species not noted for its social graces.

  Trendavi nodded. All eyes focused on the newcom-

  er as he moved close.

  For his part, Markus the Ineluctable sensed antag-

  onism, fear, curiosity, and some open support among

  the members of the Quorum. He would concentrate

  his efforts on persuading those who seemed to be

  wavering. Of the ten, he could count on three. The

  two who openly feared him he could ignore. He had

  to persuade at least two others.

  And he had to move carefully lest he panic them

  all. It was too early to press his demands. His posi-

  tion was uncertain in Quasequa, and despite his

  powers, he had no wish to raise a formal alliance

  against him. Far better to make friends of them than

  enemies. Of a majority, anyway.

  "I've come here from a faraway land, a land far-

  ther off and stranger than any of you can imagine."

  "So you've claimed." Domurmur had become some-

  thing of an unofficial spokesman for Markus's

  opposition. "All that you claim is difficult to be-

  lieve."

  "Yet much of it is proven by my presence, isn't it?"

  "Not necessarily," said Newmadeen, preening her

  whiskers casually. One of her long ears was bent

  forward in the middle, a sign of beauty among the

  hares.

  Markus turned away momentarily and coughed.

  He did not need to cough, but he didn't want them

  to see the expression on his face. He didn't like being

  called a liar- Calming himself, he turned to face

  them again. Newmadeen he didn't reply to, but he

  4 Alan Dean Foster

  would remember her. Oh, yes, he would remember

  her. Markus the Ineluctable never forgot an enemy.

  "Why not?"

  Cascuyom the howler shrugged. "There is nothing

  unique or remarkable about your person. There are

  many humans living in Quasequa. All species mix

  freely here. Or you could have come from any one

  of several neighboring lands with denser human

  populations. Your humanness is proof of nothing."

  Markus stepped up to the table, enjoying the way

  several of the members shied away from him. "But

  I'm no mere human! I'm not your usual mortal. I

  am a magician—the magician. Markus the Ineluctable!

  I have powers you cannot comprehend, abilities you

  cannot conceive of, talents you cannot imagine!"

  "A mouth big beyond belief," Domurmur whispered

  to the beauteous Newmadeen.

  Trendavi cleared his throat, spoke thoughtfully

  and, he hoped, with some degree of neutrality- "You

  must think quite highly of your skills to come straight

  to the Quorum to challenge the faithful and talented

  Opiode without first passing time as an apprentice.

  For the nonce I will credit you with boldness instead

  of ignorance. Whether Opiode will be as forgiving

  remains to be seen." He nodded toward the salaman-

  der seated in the advisor's chair off to his right.

  Red-orange blotches decorated what was visible of

  Opiode's back. He wore a single garment that resem-

  bled a raincoat. It was not close-fitting. No salaman-

  der could wear anything close to its skin because its

  natural bodily secretions would cause the material to

  stick.

  Opiode's long tail flicked nervously
back and forth.

  What he'd heard of this Markus the Ineluctable

  hadn't pleased him. Now that he saw him in the

  flesh, he liked the man even less.

  Still, he'd held his peace because protocol demanded

  THE MOMENT OF TISK MAOTCMUT 5

  it. Not that his personal opinion would be accepted

  as evidence. The selection of chief advisor to the

  Quorum was purely a matter of business. He would

  have his turn in due course. So he continued to sit

  quietly, ignoring the debate as best he could while

  trying to still the twitching of his tail.

  Markus was talking on. "I can do things you won't

  believe by means of a magic you've never encountered

  before"

  "More talk," said Domurmur, slapping the table

  with a paw- Markus grinned at him.

  **I suspected it would come to this. You want more

  than talk from me."

  "That'd be nice," said Domurmur sarcastically.

  "We've had to contend with applicants whose loquadou&-

  ness far exceeded their abilities before"

  For an instant, it seemed as if Markus the Inelucta-

  ble was about to lose his temper. His barely concealed

  rage didn't faze Domurmur. He was made of sterner

  stuff than some of his colleagues.

  "Yes." said Opiode suddenly, unable to contain

  himself any longer. "Let's have an end to this talkl"

  All eyes turned to the chief advisor as he rose

  from his seat. The glow bulbs hanging by their single

  Strands from the curved stone ceiling pulsed a little

  brighter as the salamander stood. It was his spelling

  which provided their soft, steady light. The servitors

  flanking the doorways whispered expectantly among

  themselves. Attendants and Quorum members alike

  could feel the power flowing from the old wizard,

  could sense that he was completely involved in what

  was taking place.

  About the challenger there was no such percepti-

  ble aura of strength. There was only the air of

  mystery and feeling of alienness he had brought with

  him from the moment he'd stepped into the chamber.

  6 Alan Dean Poster

  That, and the regal bearing he affected, which some-

  how seemed not to fit.

  Nor was his actual appearance particularly impres-

  sive. He was tall for a human but not spectacularly

  so, round of countenance, and crowned with less fur

  than most. In hand-to-hand combat it was unlikely

  he could have defeated any of the Quorum with the

  exception of old Trendavi, for he displayed a consid-

  erable paunch above his belt line.

  The forthcoming batde would not be physical,

  however. Opiode approached the Quorum. "I see no

  reason to oppose a challenge. Indeed, I could not

  turn it down if 1 wished to. Nor is there any way you

  can choose between us without a contest of wills. The

  people of Quasequa deserve to have an advisor who

  has proven his abilities" He sighed deeply, looked

  resigned as he smoothed the slime on the back oT his

  hands with a fold of his voluminous robe.

  "I have demonstrated my fitness many times be-

  fore and expect to have to do so many times again."

  He cocked an amphibian eye Coward the newcomer.

  "Have you any objection to a public contest?"

  "Here and now suits me fine." Markus fairly oozed

  confidence. "I'm a little new at this kind of duel. Do

  we need seconds?"

  "1 think not. In any event, my assistant Flute is

  quite young and I would not want him subjected to

  mystic influences that could injure him at a delicate

  Stage of his development."

  "Aw, I wouldn't do that." Markus turned. "Prugg,

  no matter what happens you stay there and keep out

  of the way. Understand?" The huge bodyguard nod-

  ded once and backed away from the table. He was

  not completely impassive, however. Like everyone

  else in the chamber, he was curious to see how his

  master would fare. He was even a little worried.

  After all, Opiode was the most noted wizard in the

  THB MOMENT OF TSB SSAWCSAM 7

  land. It was simple for his master to overawe the

  peasant folk with his magic, but outwitting Opiode

  would be another matter entirely.

  Markus the Ineluctable seemed anything but

  intimidated, though. He grinned and gestured

  expansively toward the salamander. "You first."

  Opiode did not smile. "Food is vital to the health

  of all. No food is more important to the people of

  Quasequa than the fish that swim in the lakes around

  us." He slid back his sleeves, cleared his throat, and

  his words rolled through the chamber.

  "The bounty of the lake

  I bid you aH to share

  Your hungers may you slake

  With meat beyond compare

  For while I advise Quasequa there will be

  No nutritional dystopia

  But always instead if you look you will see

  An ichthyological cornucopia."

  Quorum members and servitors alike watched with

  the fascination of children as a small, glowing blue-

  green whirlpool formed in the air above the floor.

  You could smell the lake water as the vortex hummed.

  Then the fish poured forth, falling head upon tail,

  until there was a heaping mound of flopping, bounc-

  ing weewaw lying in the middle of the floor. Weewaw,

  the hardest to catch and tastiest of all. And Opiode

  had brought forth this expensive and improbable

  feast with a wave of his hands and a few words.

  The wizard spoke only when the last fish had

  • tumbled to the stones and the whirlpool had vanished.

  "Can you so readily insure the supply of food to the

  citizens of the city?"

  Markus frowned a moment. Then his grin returned.

  He raised his hands above his head, the fingers

  8 Alan Dean Poster

  pointing outward. His black cape fluttered behind

  him. The Quorum members strained to listen, but

  those with good hearing could make no sense of the

  newcomer's words. Even Opiode, who could hear the

  incantation clearly, did not understand. The words

  were strange and sharp.

  Sense they might not have made, but there was no

  denying their effect. A bright green glow appeared

  before the table. A few of the members shifted

  nervously in their chairs, and Markus casually as;

  sured them they had nothing to worry about.

  The glow expanded and thinned. Markus looked

  smug as the glow formed a floating rectangle above

  the floor.

  It was an aquarium without sides- Magic alone

  held the water in place. Swimming to and fro within

  the drifting section of lake was a whole school of

  weewaw. suspended before the Quorum.

  "I don't know about the rest of you, but I hate

  waste. Wouldn't it be better to get your fish one at a

  time and keep the others fresh for the taking?"

  Opiode muttered something and his pile of dead

  weewaw vanished. Markus did likewise and the float-


  ing aquarium also disappeared, save for a few mis-

  placed drops which stained the floor-

  "Well brought!" said Kindore, only to have his

  colleagues shush him. Opiode glared at the flying

  squirrel, then turned his attention back to the smil-

  ing Markus. They had determined one thing already.

  His challenger was for real.

  "It is not enough to feed a population in times of

  difficulty, stranger. One must be able to defend

  them as well" Again he lifted an arm, made sinuous

  motions in the air.

  "Let those who threaten

  beware, beware

  THE MOMEMT OF THE MAGICIAN 9

  We will not fight

  with air, with air

  We mold our weapons

  with care, so there

  Be metallurgical might!"

  Fire this time, bright and hot. The Quorum mem-

  bers shielded their faces as the set of armor co-

  alesced before them, melting out of the flames. Sword,

  shield, and long spear accompanied it. The fire

  cooled and flickered out.

  Notorian moved from his seat to inspect the newly

  forged weapons. He hefted the sword, tapped the

  armor with it.

  "Fine instruments for fighting."

  "For one fighter, yes," Markus agreed readily. "For

  a trained warrior. But what of the ordinary citizen?

  How does he, or she, defend the community?"

  Once more he raised his hands, once again he

  intoned an invocation none could comprehend. This

  he concluded by swinging his cape around in front

  of him, to form a funnel in the air.

  There was a tinkling sound as something fell from

  the base of the funnel. Then another, and another.

  It became a metallic clashing as the flow increased,

  until the flow of knives was a shining waterfall pouring

  from the bottom of the cape.

  Notorian the wolf picked one up and tested the

  edge. "Finest steel I've ever seen," he declared to the

  stunned Quorum. The rush of metal continued until

  Trendavi finally raised a hand himself.

  "Enough!" Markus nodded, let the cape swirl back

  around his neck. As he did so, the clanging waterfall

  ceased. The floor of the Quorum chamber was awash

  in knives of every shape and size- Markus kicked a

  few of them aside and bowed.

  "As my employers wish." He swept a hand out to

  Alan Dean Fofltcr

  10

  encompass the armory. "A gift to the Quorum and to

  the citizens of Quasequa, my adopted home."

  "They're only knives," Cascuyom muttered.