Is This Apocalypse Necessary? - Wizard of Yurt - 6 (10 page)

This time it took me several minutes to find the diamond ring, half-buried in the straw. I put a tracing spell on it before dropping it into my pocket, in case this kept on happening.

I slipped out of the stables a quarter hour later, deciding to postpone further experiments with the air cart—for one thing, it was getting dark.

From the direction of the kitchen I could hear the clattering of washing up and an occasional voice, raised in question or laughter, but the rest of the castle was silent.

Back in my chambers I returned to the battered magical book and found my place, where the long-dead wizard discussed the hiding of the Dragons' Scepter he had created. He seemed to be caught between believing no other wizard would be nearly wise or clever enough to wield it as he had, and wanting future generations to be able to marvel, awestruck, at his powers if they actually witnessed the Scepter in action. The latter form of pride finally triumphed—even if he doubted anyone else would ever be as skilled as he was, he wanted to be very sure that posterity believed him.

Naurag thus overcame what I read as deep reluctance and described the place where he had hidden the Scepter, including an explicit description of the magic that should help one find its location, even centuries later, and of the spells that would be needed to counteract the spells of concealment he had laid upon it. I paused, chose a new pencil on which to chew, and wondered if it could possibly be as easy as he here suggested.

Armed with a fairly simple set of spells, only a few of which even required exotic herbs, a wizard should be able to discover Naurag's Scepter, activate its power, and command the dragons as he had once done. Once the Scepter was in one's hand, one wouldn't even need to be a wizard to access its powers. But if this was all that was required, why had the Master himself never gone to retrieve it?

Suddenly I understood. I looked again at Naurag's description of the Scepter's hiding place, but it was as I feared. Even though a wizard should, theoretically, be able to make the largest dragons obey him once he held it, the hard part would be holding it in the first place. For Naurag had concealed it in the floor of the mightiest dragons' lair.

That was it, then. I couldn't duplicate the spells Naurag had originally created to tame the dragons, because I would have to be standing in the dragons' valley to do so, rattling off page after page of phrases in the Hidden Language and waving around a handful of herbs I probably wouldn't recognize even if I did find them. I couldn't locate the Scepter to which Naurag had attached the spells, because one would in essence already have had to use those spells to get past the dragon who guarded it.

The Master's hope that I could somehow use this centuries'-old magic to oppose Elerius was therefore nothing but a futile dream.

This was all a great relief, I told myself the next morning, standing in my dressing gown eating cinnamon crullers and looking out toward the courtyard, through the climbing roses. A spider had died down in the corner of one of my window panes; her legs were sprawled out and body bleached white by the sun.

It was much better this way, I said to myself again. I wondered absently why the crullers seemed to have no flavor this morning; maybe a new girl was making them. Perhaps I should get dressed, I thought, except that the inferior crullers seemed to have sapped my initiative.

I opened the old ledger again half-heartedly, but saw nothing I had not seen last night. There was the spell for finding the Dragons' Scepter in the floor of a dragon's cave, a blank page, the word "Afterword" written in a shaky hand, and then nothing more.

Voices came from the courtyard and the sound of hooves. Princess Margareta, elegant and slim in her riding habit, led her mare toward the mounting block.

"But you have only just arrived, Margareta!" the queen mother cried, hurrying up to her. "Did you and the king perhaps have some sort of quarrel last night?" she added hesitantly. "Because if you did—"

"No, no, my lady," Margareta answered coolly. Refusing Paul seemed to have given her a resolution she had never had before; she could now refuse anybody. "Nothing like that at all. I had always intended to spend but a single night in Yurt. My parents will want me home again today. I am sorry if you did not understand or if the brevity of my visit has caused you and the staff any discomfort."

The knights from Caelrhon who had accompanied the princess here were hurrying to bring out their own steeds. "We are always glad to have you, Margareta," the queen said, worried but not wanting to give offense.

"I'm sure Paul will be disappointed not to have been here to say good-bye, but he seems to have ridden out very early this morning. Do you know yet when you might be free to visit us again? Because you do know that—"

"I will doubtless be very busy at home for some months to come," said Margareta, settling herself into the saddle. "Thank you again for your hospitality. Oh, you might telephone my father's court, just to leave a message with his constable as to what time I left here. They always like to know when to expect me."

"Of course," the queen started to answer, but Margareta had kicked her mare and was off across the drawbridge, the knights hustling to catch up.

The queen looked after her, shaking her head, then started in the direction of the room where we kept the telephone. I sipped the last of my tea, wondering what I should do with myself all day. The hours seemed to stretch before me endless and empty. Perhaps I should leave too, since everyone else seemed to be doing so, and go visit Theodora.

Quick footsteps echoed in the courtyard, and I looked up, surprised to see the queen back from telephoning so quickly. She rapped briskly on my own chamber door and called, "Wizard!" I pulled my dressing gown closer around me and opened the door. "You have a telephone call."

"I must apologize for having you run my errands, my lady!" I said, trying to cover my embarrassment with dignity, then bowed and swept out past her. Who could be calling me? But by the time I reached the telephone room I was smiling. It had to be Theodora, asking if I could come visit her and Antonia for a week. A week with her and away from Yurt right now would be highly welcome.

But the face illuminated in the base of the glass telephone was not Theodora's. It was a black-bearded wizard: Elerius.

I could tell that he had spotted me in his own instrument even before I picked up the receiver—no time to try to disguise my pajamas with illusion or to recreate the frilled white shirt and the cape which had failed to impress the Master. "It must be nice, Daimbert," Elerius commented,

"to be the Royal Wizard of such a backwater little kingdom. No responsibilities, nothing to do but sleep 'til noon."

The Master must still be alive, I told the hard pounding of my heart, or Elerius wouldn't be starting our conversation with a joke at my expense.

"In the evenings when you City wizards are all down in the restaurants and taverns," I replied haughtily, "I improve my time with the close study of long-forgotten spells." Now I just had to hope he didn't know I had Naurag's book.

Tawny eyes considered me thoughtfully. "Perhaps you would like to try the City restaurants again yourself. I know from experience that the kings of Yurt have always kept good cooks, but I expect it's been months since you've had any fresh seafood. How about coming down to the wizards'

school for a visit—say, this afternoon?"

"Why this sudden eagerness to improve my culinary variety?" I asked warily.

"I think it would be a good chance for the two of us to talk about Antonia and her education."

"Antonia!" My heart, which had almost resumed its normal rhythm again, gave a great lurch.

"Certainly. Isn't it almost time for pupils to be returning to their classes for the autumn? I'm sure those teachers in Caelrhon have long since taught her everything they have to teach. But I'm her friend—almost an honorary uncle, one might say." Did he linger a little too much over the word uncle? "I'm very interested in discussing with you what would be best for her and her future."

"Of course," I gasped. "What a good idea. I'm so glad you brought this up, Elerius. I'll be there in a few hours." He continued to watch me, to see if I recognized the threat implicit behind his words.

Oh, yes. I recognized it just fine.

As I guided the air cart from the stables, projecting so much fury and despair that the stable boys stayed well out of my way, it crossed my mind that I needed to let my king know I was gone. With no intention of letting him invite himself along, I scribbled him a quick note and pushed it into the reluctant hand of a stable boy. "Unexpected business has come up related to the wizards' school," I wrote. "I expect to be in the City for at least a few days but should be back soon." This last was a lie. I didn't know if I would ever be home again.

I had decided to take the air cart to the City even though flying myself would have been faster. This, I explained firmly to the nagging voice at the back of my mind, was not due to any reluctance to face Elerius. After all, I had barely taken time to pack, only tossing some clean socks and my old wizard's staff into the cart. Rather I was taking advantage of a chance to test more of Naurag's spells on the cart. His ledger was the only book out of all my library of magic that I took with me to confront the best wizard of this age.

The spires of the royal castle of Yurt disappeared rapidly behind me. No time to say good-bye, even in my mind, to the kingdom I had served for thirty years. And if I thought too much about the fact that I might never see the castle again, I would not leave at all. As the air cart, zipping along at greater speed than usual due to Naurag's spells, next flew over the cathedral city of Caelrhon, I realized that there was also no time to say good-bye to Theodora and Antonia. I wasn't sure what I was planning to do, even whether I would defy Elerius or seek to persuade him that I was a harmless incompetent who could safely be ignored. My mind kept asserting, obsti-nantly and without good evidence, that I would think of something, but whatever it was my family would be safer if they knew nothing of it.

The towers of the City rose before me long before I felt mentally prepared. With a history that went back over two thousand years and a modern bustle that came from being the most important commercial center of the West, the City was a spectacular sight. Once I had lived here, one more young man among thousands, but Yurt had for many years been my real home. The school on the peak of the City's highest hill— where, I now realized, Naurag had established himself as ruler centuries earlier—seemed to shimmer with magic: the official spells that protected the school itself, but also the overflow of hundreds of unofficial spells, being worked by serious faculty and by students both studious and carefree. As I directed the air cart down, a flock of insubstantial and rather misshapen bluebirds flew up toward me. One of the classes must be working on illusions.

As a visiting graduate of the school who had once even taught a series of lectures here, I was able to get a narrow room at the top of a tower. It was reached by a twisting staircase with broken stone steps—but then the school assumed that anyone who stayed here would prefer to fly up rather than climb. I realized as I closed the door behind me that the simplicity of living arrangements at the school, which had seemed perfectly normal when I was a student here, must have been the result of a deliberate decision by the Master. The organized wizardry he had established was not an organization of either luxury or display.

My outstretched arms could easily reach across the room from one wall to the window on the opposite side, but the ceiling, shadowy and hung with cobwebs, was at least twenty feet over my head. The window looked out into reaches of air, and by craning my neck I could see the great harbor a dizzying distance below. But I didn't take time to admire the view. I tucked Naurag's ledger behind a few dog-eared books of modern spells which lay forgotten on a shelf, slapped magic locks on both door and window, and went in search of Elerius.

I didn't have to look long.

As I hurried out of the residential part of the school toward the classrooms and the library, wondering distractedly if it might be possible to establish some sort of secret base in the maze of tunnels and rooms down below the school, he came around a corner so fast that he almost ran into me.

"Daimbert! How good to see you so soon!" His lips smiled but not his eyes. He must have had his agents watching for my arrival. "I knew you would be eager to come to the City once I mentioned that we could plan Antonia's future together."

When I had thought that the Master's student assistants were Elerius's henchmen, come to kill me, I had found a way to overcome them, I reminded myself. So why this paralyzing lack of good ideas when facing Elerius himself?

"Let's go down to the harbor and find a restaurant where we can have an early dinner," he said as though he were just making light conversation, not threatening my daughter's safety if by any chance I did not cooperate with him. "I'm so busy with the complicated affairs of the school that I'd like a break, and it's too easy to be distracted if one stays here, with wizards and students always running in and out of the office with questions and ideas."

He did an unconvincing job of suggesting that the responsibilities of supervising so many other wizards was a task he would just as soon give up. I followed him down the corridor and out one of the many doors that gave on open air—much faster to descend to the waterfront by flying than on foot. Roofs, narrow streets, and hidden courtyards showing an unexpected green, all flashed beneath us, all of them sheltering citizens who must know that they were always under the eyes of the wizards, but who had much too much else to do to worry about us.

As we descended I glanced back toward the tower in the school where I had been given my room. As long as I was with Elerius I knew he himself couldn't be trying to circumvent my magic locks, but there must be people here who would be only too eager to perform little chores for him. My only hope was that he wouldn't know to look for Naurag's book because he didn't know I had it—sitting hidden on a shelf with other books of spells, it would do nothing to draw even a wizard's attention to itself.