Part 7 (2/2)
”Maybe,” Faran agreed. ”Has someone spoken to any of our hired magicians to ask if they know what's going on?”
”My brother's attending to it.”
”Ah ... which brother, my lord?”
”Lord Karannin, of course. He's Lord High Magistrate.”
”The Lord of the Household works with magicians as well, my lord.”
”Clurim has enough to do.”
Faran started to ask just what Lord Clurim had to do, then decided not to. If Azrad wanted to tell him, he would-and if he didn't, Lord Faran would find out elsewhere.
”Lord Karannin deals with several magicians, but none of them are of any great note, my lord. Perhaps I should go speak to Guild-master Ithinia-” ”If you leave the Palace you won't get back in,” Azrad interrupted. ”Not even you, my lord.”
”Then I won't go,” Faran said promptly.
He didn't like it, though. Ifhe couldn't get back in, then no one could. He wondered where Hanner was-not in the Palace, according to the guards at the entrance, but that left all the rest of the World.
Faran hoped he was safe in Mavi's bed, but somehow he doubted that Hanner had managed that.
”We'll send Ithinia a messenger later,” Azrad said. ”For now, though, I want to get back to my bed, and when you've answered one more question I plan to do exactly that.” He s.h.i.+fted in his seat and then continued, ”Tell me, then-do you know anything about this magic that's running loose?”
Faran hesitated.
Sooner or later he might want to admit the truth-or he might not; if the magic turned out to be temporary, something that vanished at sunrise, then perhaps it would be best quickly forgotten.
Right now, though, Faran was not about to tell Azrad that he, the overlord's chief advisor, was one of the people touched by the mysterious power. Lord Azrad was clearly in no mood to tolerate such a revelation.
”Not a thing, I'm afraid,” Lord Faran said.
Elken the Beggar smiled to himself as he hurried along Wall Street.
Those other fools back in the Wizards' Quarter had obeyed when that fat little lordling told them to follow him to the Palace, but Elken wasn't stupid enough to do that. He had other plans.
n.o.body knew what this new magic was or what it could do, but they were already trying to find ways to control it. Lord Hanner and his party, Mother Perrea and the witches, all the wizards and guardsmen and the rest, they just wanted to put everything back the way it was.
And they would probably succeed. The new magic would be erased or controlled all through the city streets, and everything would once again obey the overlord's laws.
Except that there were places where the overlord's laws had never meant much, and Elken lived in one of them.
Other people with the new magic would want to improve themselves with it. They would probably pretend to be real magicians and would go into the streets looking for ways to use it to earn money. They would obey the law.
They wouldn't stay in the Hundred-Foot Field with the thieves and beggars. Which meant, Elken thought, that there was an opportunity here. Being one magician among many was nothing special, but being theonly magician in the Hundred-Foot Field would be another matter.
He smiled again, looked out across the Field, and casually, purely for the enjoyment of the sensation of control, tipped over someone's tent fifty feet away before hurrying on.
The streets were quieter now. Kennan had been grabbing pas-sersby, if they were on foot rather than airborne and didn't look dangerous, and asking them if they knew what was happening; so far he hadn't gotten anything close to a decent answer. The mad ones, the ones flying by or flinging objects in all directions, he had sometimes hidden from, sometimes shouted at, but they had not been any better.
Some sort of magic was loose in the city, clearly-but n.o.body seemed to know what. People had disappeared-Aken was not the only one-but no one knew who had taken them or why.
The only guardsman Kennan had seen had pulled away, saying he was too busy to worry about one missing man.
Kennan stood in the doorway of his house, looking out at the empty street, with Sanda pressing up behind him, peering over his shoulder. He was thinking.
At last he reached a decision.
”Someone has to know what's going on,” he said, ”and someone has to be doing something about it. I'm going to go to the Palace and demand an explanation.”
”I'll come with you,” Sanda said.
Kennan turned and pushed her back inside.
”No, you won't,” he said. ”You'll stay here and look after the children.”
”They're all asleep ...”
”No, I said!” Kennan glowered at her, his hand still pus.h.i.+ng at her shoulder. ”What if little Sarai wakes up and wants her mother? What if one of them gets sick? What if the magic tries to take one ofthem}”
”I couldn't stop it...” Sanda began halfheartedly-but she was no longer resisting the pressure of Kennan's hand.
”And what if Aken comes back as soon as I'm out of sight around the corner and finds usboth gone?”
Sanda blinked, suddenly silent, and stepped back into the house.
”I'll stay here until you come back,” she said.
”Good,” Kennan said, lowering his hand. ”Good.” He tried to smile at her, without much success. ”Don'tworry, Sanda. I'll find him. I don't know why the magicians took him or what they did with him, but I'll find out.” He stepped back inside long enough to give her a quick, rea.s.suring hug, then turned and marched out of the house, closing the door tightly behind him.
The overlord would probably be asleep at this hour, closer to dawn than sunset, butsomeone at the Palace was surely awake, and someone there would either give him the answers he wanted or direct him to where they could be found.
If they didn't, they would regret it.
Chapter Nine.
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