Spellsinger 04 - The Moment Of The Magician Read online

  his cousins, for where there should have been beaks

  he saw only hungry, razor-sharp, strangely curved

  fangs.

  THE MOMENT OF THB MAOICIAW

  29

  No matter how he strained he couldn't outdistance

  them, and they closed the space between with terrify-

  ing ease. Hoping to lose them in the trees, he dove

  for the crowns of the forest. They followed easily,

  closing ground still more when he reemerged from

  the branches. He dipped and rolled and dodged,

  employing every maneuver he could remember, some-

  times vanishing among the foliage, sometimes dou-

  bling sharply back on his route before rising again to

  check the sky. And the demons stayed with him,

  inexorable in their pursuit, malign in their purpose.

  For Pandro they meant only death.

  One veered just a little too near the mass of a giant

  tocoro tree and smashed into the bark. Glancing

  backward, Pandro was relieved to see it fall, spinning

  and tumbling and broken, to smash into the ground

  below. There was still hope, then. Demonic visitors

  his tormentors might be, but they were neither invul-

  nerable nor immortal. They could be killed.

  Six of them had fallen on him. Now there were

  five left. But he couldn't continue the battle at this

  speed. All the diving and dodging among the trees

  was wasting his strength at a much faster rate than

  mere flying. Yet having tried to outrun them and

  failed, he didn't have much choice. He had to keep

  to the woods-

  One of his pursuers swooped around the bole of a

  forest giant, only to find itself caught in the grasp of

  a huge, carnivorous flying lizard. Blood spurted as

  the two combatants tumbled groundward, unable to

  disengage. The lizard was stunned by the ferocity of

  the much smaller creature it had caught, while for its

  part the demon was unable to break free from sharp

  talons. They struck the earth together.

  Four left, Pandro thought wildly. His heart was

  pounding against his chest feathers and his wing

  muscles ached. One of the demons was right on top

  Aim Dean Foster

  30

  of him, and he had to fold his wings and drop like a

  stone, plummeting desperately toward the ground

  only to roll out at the last second. Even so, curved

  fangs slashed at his left wing in passing, sending

  black feathers flying.

  He checked the injury as he climbed cloudward.

  The wound was superficial, but it had been a near

  thing. Too near. And his assailants seemed as fresh

  and untired as when they'd First attacked. He had to

  do something drastic, and soon. He couldn't keep

  dodging them forever.

  Once more he drew his wings in close to his body

  and fell earthward. As though of the same mind, the

  four demons followed in unison, screaming at him.

  Again he rolled up and over before crashing, but

  this time he landed behind a chosen tree. His pursu-

  ers split and came at him from two sides. The first

  one went over his head, the second missed him on

  the right. The third went straight for his throat and

  crumpled itself against the tree, teeth flying in all

  directions as the head shattered. The fourth turned

  away to reconsider -

  Pandro pushed air as he flew back toward Quasequa,

  hoping they wouldn't see him and intending to make

  a wide curve back northward once he'd lost them.

  Looking back over his shoulder he spotted two of

  them skimming low over the treetops, hunting him

  in the opposite direction.

  But where was the third surviving demon?

  He turned just in time to duck, but the teeth bit

  deeply into his neck and back, barely missing his

  face. Blood flew with his feathers. The clouds began

  to swim in front of his eyes, blotting out all the blue

  sky. He felt himself falling toward a green grave.

  Good-bye, Asenva of the saucy tail, he thought.

  Good-bye fledglings. Good-bye worried wizard, may

  THE MOMENT OF TBE MAGICIAN 31

  your skin never be dry. I tried my best. But you

  didn't tell me I would have to fight demons.

  The first tree reached up to catch him. He hit

  hard.

  Prugg enjoyed the expressions that came over the

  faces of Kindore and Vazvek when the demons

  returned. The two members of the Quorum made

  protective signs in front of their faces and all but hid

  beneath the master's cape. Markus let them quake in

  terror for a few minutes before assuring them they

  were in no danger and that the faceless fliers were

  his servants. Even so, Vazvek did not emerge from

  behind the magician until the demons had settled

  one at a time into waiting wall alcoves.

  As soon as he was sure they had fallen asleep,

  Prugg approached them. He did not want to show

  fear in front of the Quorumen, but he feared the

  master's magic nonetheless.

  "Go on, Prugg," said Markus helpfully. "They won't

  hurt you. They won't move unless I command them."

  Prugg studied the trio. True to the master's word,

  they ignored him. They were not very big, especially

  for demons, but those curved fangs were very

  impressive. Prugg ran a finger over one and still its

  owner did not stir.

  "Only three of them," Markus murmured- "I won-

  der what happened to the other three." He shrugged.

  "Doesn't matter. I can always call up more." He

  tteraed to face his supporters.

  "What do you think, Kindore? Should I bring

  dievq back to life and have them dance in the air for

  you?"

  "No, oo, no, advisor," said a badly shaken Kindore.

  He pulled at his thin coat, working to refasten the

  buttons which had come loose as he'd scrambled to

  32 Alan Dean Foster

  avoid the demons. "I have never seen demons like

  that"

  "How many demons have you seen?" Markus

  grinned at the squirrel. "They're harmless now. We

  can resume our discussion."

  This was done. When Markus's questions had all

  been answered, he gave the pair his orders. Not

  advice, orders. Markus the Ineluctable had already

  moved beyond making suggestions, and Kindore and

  Vazvek hastened to carry out his bidding. Things

  were moving rapidly now, and the master was pleased.

  He dismissed them, watched with amusement as

  they retreated quickly, and then walked over to in-

  spect his now-silent aerial servants.

  "Only three." He rubbed a forefinger across his

  lower lip, then gestured at the last demon in line.

  "See, there's blood on this one's teeth."

  "I saw. Master."

  "But whose blood? Could it be demon blood?"

  Prugg strained but could not come up with a quick

  reply.

  Markus looked pained. "You're slow, Prugg, you

  know that? Real slow."

  "Forgive me, Master. 1 know that I am stupid. But

  I try.
"

  "That's okay- I don't keep you around for your wit.

  You may as well know that it can't be demon blood

  because there is no blood in any of these creatures,

  Just as there is no life in them. They only live at my

  command. They're not sleeping, Prugg. They're dead.

  Until I choose to give them life again. Therefore it

  stands to reason, doesn't it, that this is the blood of

  the black messenger?"

  "Yes, that must be so," agreed Prugg. "Yes, the

  black flier must be down, along with whatever mes-

  sages he carried from that slimy bad loser, Opiode."

  THE MOMENT or THE MAOICIAN 33

  prugg looked pleased. "Can I tell the old wizard his

  ^'Servant has been killed?"

  ^ "No, Prugg, you cannot. Nor will I tell him. Let

  faun squat in his bath believing his messages are

  going to be received. Let him think his trusted

  messenger ran out on him. Let him stew those possi-

  bilities over for a while. It will keep him out of our

  hair for now." He smited thinly. "I have a lot to do

  ^and I don't want to have to waste time worrying

  ^about the salamander."

  •^•~r

  f-

  ^ "What's wrong with him?"

  Pandro heard the words faintly through the black

  ^haze that was the inside of his head. There was a

  Hflaoment during which he thought the words might've

  ^fceen part of a dream, a bad dream he'd been having.

  1'Then more words, different, a little more intelligible

  ^Cthis time.

  "How the hell should I know? Do I look like a

  ^ohysician?"

  H • "You always did look like something escaped from

  ||a hospital," countered the first voice. "One where

  j|they treat mental problems."

  j- "Shut up, you two. I think he's coming around,"

  ^commanded still a third voice.

  ^ The voices went away again- It occurred to Pandro

  $fhat perhaps they might be waiting for some kind of

  ^response from him-

  ^- "I... can hear you okay, but I can't see you. I'm

  ||»lmd"

  ^l' "He's blind," said one voice, not in the least

  f Sympathetic.

  ^ "Have you tried," said the third voice, a little more

  rntly, "opening your eyes?"

  Pandro mulled this over. "Why, no. I haven't."

  |»"Try," the voice urged him.

  H Pandro blinked, discovered he was lying on a crude

  34 Alan Dean Foster

  platform built between two branches high above the

  forest floor. The foliage around him was swarming

  with the graceful, swift shapes of fellow fliers. They

  had one thing in common: every one of them was

  considerably smaller than he was. None stood more

  than a foot high.

  Two of the three who were staring down at him

  wore blue-and-black kilts with bright chartreuse vests,

  while the third was clad in a kilt of white and yellow

  with a pink vest. This attire was subdued compared

  to their natural coloration, which was brilliant and

  metallic.

  At first he had a hard time telling them apart.

  They hardly ever stopped moving, darting in front

  of him, behind, making erratic loops around the

  branches, arguing constantly with each other, and

  occasionally flitting overhead to sip from one of the

  huge tropical blossoms that burst forth from the

  tree.

  Shoving backward with his wingtips, Pandro sat

  up, winced in pain- His wing came away from the

  back of his neck unbloodied, however. If he hadn*t

  turned at the last instant, the demon would have bit

  him in the face. The image that produced in his

  mind made him queasy all over again.

  "Where are you from?... What are you doing

  here?... Who are you?... Why the neck chain... ?"

  The trio threw one question after another at him

  and didn't wait for replies- One of them was tapping

  him on the shoulder as it spoke.

  "Take it easy," Pandro pleaded. A quick inspection

  revealed that the surrounding trees were filled with

  tiny homes and traditional covered nests. "My turn

  first- Where did you find me?"

  One of the querulous hummingbirds drifted in

  front of Pandro, fanning his face with wings that

  were sensed rather than seen- It nodded to its right.

  THE MOMENT or TAB MAOJCUW 35

  *You came down over there." Crimson flashed

  ^beneath its bill. "Busting branches all the way down.

  ^.Wonder is that you didn't bust your skull."

  "Some others tried to,"

  "Oh ho!" said another, whose throat was blue as

  an alpine tarn. "A fight! If it's a fight they're looking

  -for..." He curled the tips of both wings into fists and

  glared belligerently at the sky, looking for someone

  ^Co sock.

  " "Watch your blood pressure. Spin," said the third

  ? bird. He was slightly less hyperkinetic than his

  ; companions.

  "Watch your rear." The bird dove on him, and the

  'ithree of them went round and round in the air,

  iJabbing with feet, wings, and beaks. When they fmal-

  ^ly separated, Pandro saw that no harm had been

  H-done. None of them was even breathing hard. Two

  ^ buzzed upward for a sugary drink while the third

  ;' regarded the injured visitor sorrowfully.

  .^ "That's the trouble these days. Nobody knows how

  ^.to have a good fight anymore."

  ("I know civilization's in a bad way." Pandro agreed

  dryly, "but it's going to be worse if I don't carry out

  U wy mission."

  ^ "Hot damn, a mission!" He danced all around

  JrfPandro as the raven stood and tested his wings.

  ^ Emeralds flashed on his tiny chest.

  ,, Except for a few missing feathers and the naked

  ^-•Icar that ran from the back of his neck downward,

  ^randro seemed to be intact.

  ; "Yes, a mission for the wizard Opiode, former

  }-®hief advisor to the Quorum of Quasequa."

  tit "Never go into Quasequa," declared the humming"

  >ird, shaking its head and forcing Pandro to duck

  °ack to avoid the swinging bill. "Nothing going on

  lere. Talk about dull."

  , "Cousin, to your kind, everything is dull. Are the

  36 Alan Dean Foster

  rest of us responsible if you happen to live at a speed

  twenty times faster than anyone else's?"

  "No, you're not," said the one called Spin. "You

  can't help it if you're slow and boring. The whole

  rest of the world is slow and boring."

  "It's liable to get exciting real soon," said Pandro

  grimly. "Some weird human's taken over as chief

  advisor in Quasequa. This Opiode's worried about

  what he might do. The newcomer's a powerful

  magician, and Opiode doesn't seem to think much of

  his plans." He had a sudden horrible thought, and a

  wingtip went to his chest. When he clutched the vial

  containing the messages, he relaxed. The demons

  had ripped off his backpack, but they'd missed the

  chain and vial hanging around his neck. A good

  thing he'd taken care
to put the messages there for

  safekeeping.

  He eyed the sky. "1 guess they think they got me."

  "Who thinks they got you?" asked Oun, the second

  hummingbird.

  "The demons. They must've been sent after me by

  Markus the Ineluctable, that new advisor I just told

  you about. Opiode warned me to watch out, but

  there wasn't anything I could do. They were just too

  fast for me"

  "Demons, wow!" said Spin. "About time we had a

  decent scrap." He turned to his two companions. "I'll

  go find Wix and the rest of the gang and we'll—!"

  "Hold on a minute," said Pandro. The humming-

  bird pivoted in midair. "You don't want to go looking

  for these things."

  "We're not afraid of anything that flies"

  "I'm sure you're not, but these were different." He

  shuddered, remembering that cold, barren contact

  on the back of his neck. He made a chopping motion

  with one wing. "And they've got teeth, not just bills.

  They'll take you apart."

  THS MOMENT OF THE MAGICIAN 37

  "Condor crap!" snapped the second hummingbird,

  ^darting through the air and striking out with lefts

  1 and rights at imaginary opponents. "We'll pull their

  wings off! We'll—!"

  "Do nothing of the kind," said the spokesman for

  the trio, "because there aren't any demons around."

  Oun's crimson chest feathers flashed. "There aren't?"

  ^ "Seen any demons lurking about? Either of you?"

  is; "Well, no." Both looked abashed and finally land-

  Is ed on the platform. "Not actually." Spin lifted slightly.

  |l "But if Pandro here could lead us to them..."

  t The raven shook his head violently. "Thanks, but

  ; I've got a job to do. Anyway, if they were still looking

  ',,-for me, I'm sure you would've seen them by now.

  They brought me down, but they didn't kill me." He

  flexed long black wings and rose from the platform.

  No damage to the vital shoulder muscles. Consider-

  ing that he'd recently missed death by inches, he felt

  pretty good.

  "Listen, thanks for your help, but I'd better be on

  my way. I'm beginning to share some of that

  Salamander's concern about what's happening in the

  world."

  "Phooey," muttered Spin, "who cares what some

  ^-old wizard thinks?"

  "Some might," said the third flier thoughtfully. He

  Stared at Pandro. "Fly high, cousin, and don't look

  back."

  "Don't worry." Pandro rose skyward. "And while

  I'm gone, consider this: Opiode the Sly believes that

  ^ihis new wizard may have evil designs that extend