Spellsinger 04 - The Moment Of The Magician Read online

  Tucking his head down inside his shell until only

  the crown was visible, he slid off the bed and waded

  out into the brambles, quite safe from the thorns.

  They couldn't penetrate his body armor, but neither

  did he have the strength to force a path through

  them. Finally he gave up and returned to the bed.

  "It's no good, lad. I'm neither as young nor agile

  as I once was."

  Alan Dean Foster

  48

  "How about a spell?"

  Clothahump's reply to that suggestion was tart.

  "You spelled this jungle up: you unspell it."

  Jon-Tom's fingers twisted against each other. "I

  don't think I ought to try that."

  Clothahump looked dazed. "What's that? What's

  this? Some small hint of humility? How gratifying.

  Today we pass another signpost on the road to

  wisdom." A powerful, resonant voice interrupted his

  sarcasm.

  "THERE'S SOMEONE AT THE DOORI"

  "Drat, that's the bell," the wizard groused. "Why

  am 1 blessed with visitors who have such wonderful

  timing?"

  They waited patiently on the bed. Minutes later an

  uncertain voice called to them from the vicinity of

  the doorway.

  "Uh, Master?" They could just make out the four-

  foot-tall shape of Clothahump's apprentice standing

  in the opening. For a wonder, Sorbl sounded almost

  sober this morning. That was something of a magic

  itself.

  "There is someone at the door, Master."

  "We know that, you idiot," said Clothahump with a

  grimace. "We heard the bell too. Who is at the door?"

  "He says he's come a long ways on a mission of

  great importance. Master."

  "Don't they all."

  "His name is Pandro. He's a raven and he says he

  comes from a city named Quasequa."

  Suddenly Clothahump was more interested than

  indifferent. "Quasequa, you say? Well, I have not

  heard from anyone in that distant land in some time.

  I recall mention of a young sorcerer of some promise,

  a fellow name of Opiode, who was trying to set

  himself up in business down there."

  THE MOMENT OF TOE MAGICIAN

  49

  "That's who's sent him here, sir!" said Sorbl excitedly.

  "This Pandro says it's most urgent."

  "Opiode, yes, that was the name. Though I can't

  be certain. My memory's not what it used to be. I'll

  see him, though." The turtle's tone darkened. "You

  > will not offer him any liquid refreshment stronger

  than fruit juice!"

  "Master, I? Do you think that I... ?"

  "Yes, I do. Now, shut up, see him comfortably in,

  and inform him I'll be along directly. Then go to the

  storage bin outside the parlor. Inside you'll find

  some large wood clippers. Bring them back here and

  cut us out of my bedroom. Then, while we are

  listening to this visitor's tale, you may take the re-

  mainder of the day to prune around my bed."

  The owl let out a resigned sigh. "As you direct,

  Master." A brief pause, then, "Would it be improper

  of me to ask what happened here?"

  "Not at all. You should find it instructive. This

  E minor botanical catastrophe sprang from the heart

  of our young spellsinger here. He is in love, you see.

  One would tend to say he has a green thumb. The

  ^ actual problem, however, lies with the protuberance

  which arises from between his shoulders."

  ^ It was a mild enough reprimand and Jon-Tom

  fought to accept it gracefully. Lest he do additional

  damage, he forced himself to put all thoughts of

  the beauteous Talea aside and concentrate instead on

  *the potential import of whatever this far-ranging

  truest might have to say.

  |^ Clothahump's spell-sharpened shears soon cut a

  11" tunnel to them through the tangled growth, and the

  ^ two of them were able to crawl to freedom.

  iffl '

  "^ "A good job," the wizard complimented his appren-

  ; .^- lice. "Now clean out the rest of it, but leave those

  •^ pink blooms over there, the ones under the window.

  Alan Dean Foster

  00

  They're rather attractive, and that part of the floor's

  always damp anyway."

  "Yes, Master." They left him hacking away with the

  shears at Clothahump's bedchamber.

  The raven awaited them on the guest perch which

  had been installed by Clothahump for the comfort of

  winged visitors. He might have come a long ways,

  but he didn't look particularly fatigued to Jon'Tbm.

  Of more interest was the bruise on his forehead, the

  feathers missing from one wing, and the ugly scar

  which ran down the back of his neck. The wounds

  looked recent, and Jon-Tom wondered if they had

  anything to do with the raven's reason for coming to

  the Bellwoods.

  If Clothahump noticed any of this, he gave no

  sign, preferring instead to stare grimly at the

  widemouthed glass from which the raven was sip-

  ping decorously.

  "What's that?"

  "What's what?" said the raven uncertainly, looking

  up as they entered. "Oh, this?" He gestured with the

  glass. "A drink, and nice and strong, too- I sure as

  hell needed it. Thanks to your—"

  "1 know who to thank," rumbled Clothahump

  dangerously, "He did not by any chance have one

  himself? Just to prove that he could be a proper

  host?"

  Before the raven could reply, the wizard had whirled

  and was clomping angrily back toward his bedroom.

  "SORBL!"

  Jon-Tom and Pandro eyed each other uncomfort-

  ably for a couple of minutes until Clothahump

  returned.

  "I'll be lucky if he has my bedroom cleaned out by

  nightfall, and he'll be lucky if he doesn't cut off one

  of his own feet in the process- I'll deal with him

  THE MOMENT OF THE MAOICIAJI 51

  Her." He calmed himself as he gazed over at his

  ;uest.

  "Please pardon the interruption. Now then. Your

  | name is Pandro and you come from far Quasequa?"

  . The raven put his glass aside on the shelf that was

  ^attached to the perch- "That's right, sir."

  I "That is quite a journey."

  I "Tell me about it." Pandro fluttered to the floor

  •and hopped over to stand close to them. "Keep in

  : mind that I'm just a hired messenger. I'm not

  [ completely sure what this is all about. I could tell you

  what I know, but 1 imagine these documents I was

  instructed to deliver to you will explain what's going

  ; on in my country much better than I could." He

  | removed the papers from the cylinder hanging from

  | his neck chain.

  [ "These come from Opiode, former chief advisor

  ' in matters arcane and mystic to the Quorum of

  | Quasequa."

  " 'Former'?" Clothahump peered at the messages

  through his thick glasses. "Um." He turned to read

  silently-

  Jon-Tbm tried to make conversation. "What hap-

 
Ipened to your neck?"

  | Instinctively, a wing felt of the recently acquired

  ground. "I was attacked while on my way here. Some-

  tone or something wanted to make sure I didn't n^ake

  |cay delivery."

  | "Who attacked you?"

  | "Demons." Pandro said with admirable casualness.

  I^Taceless demons. Gray and black they were, with

  pong curved teeth and no eyes."

  •is. It wasn't the explanation Jon-Tom expected, and

  ^he was more than a little taken aback. "You don't

  ' IW

  • • "They were demons," Pandro insisted, mistaking

  Jim-Tom's surprise for disbelief. "I know a demon

  Alan Dean Poster

  when I see one, let alone when it tries to take my

  head off."

  "I wasn't disputing you," Jon-Tom replied.

  The raven studied him with interest. "You're the

  biggest human I've ever seen."

  "I'm also a spellsinger," Jon-Tom told him proudly.

  Clothahump .spoke without looking up from his

  reading. "That he is. If you want to see a demonstra-

  tion of his powers, have a look in the next room

  over."

  "It doesn't matter. It's not very impressive," Jon-

  Tom said hastily. "This wizard Opiode: you work for

  him?"

  "I was only hired to make this single delivery. I'm

  not in his regular service, if that's what you mean."

  Clothahump concluded his perusal of the papers

  with a noncommittal grunt. "This doesn't sound too

  serious, even though Opiode's language borders on

  the hysterical- Certainly not important enough to

  warrant my personal attention. Still, if he feels he

  needs help, I suppose it is incumbent on me to

  provide some." He turned back to face the raven.

  "This new advisor, this Markus the Ineluctable

  Opiode refers to: have you met him?"

  Pandro shook his head. "I just run a small messen-

  ger service. I don't get into the halls of the Quorumate

  Complex much. No, I haven't met him. From what

  I've heard, not many have. Keeps to himself a lot.

  But there are plenty of stories about him. And about

  his peculiar powers."

  "And he's a human?"

  Pandro nodded. "That's what they say."

  Clothahump examined the papers again. "A hu-

  man who claims to have come here from another

  world?"

  Jon-Tom felt suddenly faint -,. but not so faint that

  he couldn't interrupt with anxious questions.

  THE MOMENT OF THE MAGICIAN

  S3

  "Another world! Tell me, does he sing his magic,

  spellsing like 1 do, or use a musical instrument when

  he's exercising his powers?"

  Pandro flinched, taken aback by the gangling young

  human's unexpected enthusiasm. "Not that I've heard,

  sir, no. It's said that he whispers his spells so that

  none can hear him. I haven't heard anyone mention

  music."

  "It is not used," said Clothahump, "or Opiode

  would have mentioned it in his communication. The

  rest he does confirm, however." He was watching

  Jon-Tom carefully. "A human magician who claims to

  have come here from another world."

  "It's possible," said Jon-Tom excitedly. "Don't you

  think it's possible? It happened once, to me. Why

  not to another?"

  "All things are possible- However, just because you

  have a good heart and good intentions does not

  mean that this new visitor is as good and kind as

  yourself, or that he even comes from your world.

  The plenum is full of other worlds."

  "That's right," said Jen-Torn, momentarily downcast.

  "I got so excited I forgot about that."

  "In fact," the wizard went on, still eyeing the

  'papers, "from what Opiode says, this Markus ap-

  ; pears to be sadly lacking in the social verities. Opiode

  • is not only afraid of what the newcomer has done;

  he is even more afraid of what he may intend to do

  anext. As for the visitor's magic, it is powerful indeed."

  L'He folded the papers.

  I "This is none of my business. I'm not one to

  [insinuate myself into another wizard's difficulties.

  Opiode admits that this Markus defeated him in a

  battle of talents. These 'fears' he alludes to may

  merely be a reflection of his own disappointments.

  And he speaks only of worries and concerns, not of

  any actual threat. I see no reason for such panic.

  Alan Dean Foster

  This Markus hasn't instituted any sort of reign of

  terror or inquisition or anything so boring since

  assuming Optode's office, has he?"

  **No sir," Pandro admitted. "As far as the average

  citizen is concerned, nothing's changed. At least, not

  insofar as I've seen. Of course," he added thoughtfully,

  "I was attacked on my way here, and the forest where

  I encountered my assailants is not noted for having a

  large demonic population."

  "I wouldn't know," Clothahump murmured. "1 am

  not familiar with that part of the world. What do you

  think of all this, Jon-Tom?"

  Sorcerer and spellsinger discussed the matter while

  Pandro stood and waked quietly. While hardly an

  experienced judge of wizardry qualities, if asked, he

  would have had to confess that Opiode was whistling

  up the wrong trunk if he expected to get any aid

  from this bunch. The apprentice who'd ushered him

  inside was an obvious drunk, the turtle showed signs

  of senility, and the tail human struck the cosmopoli-

  tan Pandro as something of a hick.

  Still, surely Opiode the Sly knew what he was

  doing in sending here for help. And what was it they

  were arguing about?

  "I'm telling you, this guy's from my own world,

  from my home!" Jon-Tom was saying. "He's got to

  be. Transported here by accident, just like me."

  "There have been no recent disturbances in the

  ether as there were when I brought you over,"

  Clothahump told him.

  "Maybe he crossed over in a different way. Do you

  know of every path between the dimensions?"

  "No," Clothahump admitted, a mite huffily. "As I

  said before, all things are possible. All 1 am saying

  now is that there is nothing to suggest that this

  Markus the ineluctable came over from your world.

  For one thing, according to Opiode, this fellow seems

  THE MOMBWT OF THE MAOICIAN

  55

  to have been practicing his magic for quite a while,

  whereas you discovered your spellsinging ability pure-

  ly by accident and only after you had been in this

  world for some time. Furthermore, all this blather of

  coming from another world may merely be typical

  wizardly showmanship, an attempt to cow and over-

  awe impressionable Quasequans. There are many

  humans in this world, as you well know. This Markus

  may not be a transdimensional traveler; he may be

  nothing more than a slick talker. Remember, my boy,

  that your materialization here was an accident."

  "Maybe this isn't an accident," Jon-T
om argued.

  "Maybe some wizard from another world has found

  a way to cross over on his own."

  "As I recall, there are no wizards in your own

  world."

  Jon-Tom slumped. "I know. But maybe he was

  something else. Maybe he's an engineer like you

  thought I was, and he can make magic here by

  reciting engineering theorems, or something. The

  point is, Fve got to know. Don't you see, Clothahump?

  If he got through on purpose, by design, maybe he

  can return home the same way. Maybe with the two

  ;of us working together we can manage a way home

  ; for both of us!"

  '• Clothahump was nodding. "That is how I thought

  you would react to this information, my boy. Well, it's

  only natural that you should be excited. 1 certainly

  will not stand in the way of your finding out."

  TBK MOMENT OF THE. SSAOICtAtf

  57

  IV

  Pandro had been silent long enough.

  "Look here, I'm not at all sure what you two are

  talking about any more than I knew what Opiode

  was talking about. Like I said, I'm just a messenger." 3

  He gestured with a wingtip toward the papers ^

  Clothahump held- "One thing Opiode did tell me,

  though. He said that if this Markus is truly from

  another world, then it must be a place of evil and

  darkness." He eyed Jon-Tom uneasily.

  "And you say you're maybe from the same place?"

  "Maybe. We've no reason to believe that yet," .

  Clothahump replied. T

  "Well, he's sure peculiar-looking, but according to ^

  the descriptions I've heard, mighty different from ^

  this Markus the Ineluctable."

  "What's he supposed to be like?" asked Jon-Tom

  eagerly.

  "Definitely human. Tall, but much shorter than

  you. Fat, and older. Not much fur left on his head."

  Jen-Tom was nodding. "He could be an engineer

  from my world."

  "And it's said he still wears the clothes he was

  wearing when he came into our world."

  "Tell me about them, describe them! Does he wear

  56

  jeans—pants of rough blue material? Or maybe a

  suit, something with a long V-shaped opening in the

  front, with a white shirt underneath, and maybe a

  long strip of material tied around his neck?"

  "No," said Pandro thoughtfully, "the description

  that I heard was somewhat different. I was told he

  dresses entirely in black of some slick, finely woven

  material, with a black cape to match, and a strange

  black tower atop his head, and a spot of petrified

  blood he keeps always over his heart."