Part 33 (1/2)

Faran was striding out the gate into the street, and the soldiers were being swept back, as if a gigantic invisible bubble were expanding outward from the dooryard. They were colliding with one another as they were forced back, stumbling against each other, and some were falling to the ground as they lost their balance. The captain was pressed back flat against the iron fence, his helmet askew.

The wizards were reacting to this a.s.sault; orange flame suddenly burst into being in the dooryard, only to be instantly smothered. A wizard gestured, and Lord Faran staggered briefly, then resumed his march.

”The first one, Thrindle's Combustion, was just silly,” Manrin remarked. ”And the second one was Felshen's First Hypnotic, which is a better choice but still not much of a spell. Even in my present condition I'm sure I could still do that one.”

”Maybe we should get down there, Master,” Ulpen said worriedly.

Manrin stroked his beard, considering, then nodded. ”I think you're right,” he said. ”We could be useful.

I'll just grab a few things.”

Hanner, leaning out the cas.e.m.e.nt, saw Rudhira marching out into the street behind Faran, still in her white silk tunic and long green skirt, and Varrin appeared behind Rudhira. The empty circle around them was thirty feet across now, the full width of the street; the sea of soldiers had been parted. The guards to the east were tumbled atop one another, trying to get themselves upright and scramble back; the guards to the west, on Coronet Street, had managed to keep more order, and were all still standing.

And Rudhira was looking back over her shoulder.

Looking north.

”I'll meet you down there,” Hanner said, turning.

He didn't even take the time to close the cas.e.m.e.nt before running for the stairs.

Chapter Thirty-four.

At the foot of the stairs Hanner pushed his way through the little crowd of warlocks. At the door he looked out and saw that Lord Faran and at least a dozen others were marching eastward on High Street, away from the house, pus.h.i.+ng the soldiers before them.

”Where are they going?” he asked.

”The Palace,” someone said. Hanner turned to see little Hinda standing beside him. ”Lord Faran said that he was tired of inter ... interm...”

”Intermediaries,” Hanner suggested.

”Yes, thank you, my lord. He said he was going to go talk to Lord Azrad face-to-face, to settle this once and for all.”

Hanner looked out the door.

Desset was standing in the street directly in front of the house, facing west, and Hanner realized that she was single-handedly blocking the street so that none of the soldiers on that side could approach.

Off to the left the rest, with Faran, Rudhira, Varrin, Kirsha, and Yorn forming a line at the front, were marching slowly but steadily to the east, toward the Palace.

Hanner estimated that about half the warlocks who had gathered at the house were in that party; the other half were gathered in the hallway and at the parlor windows, watching eagerly.

This was, Hanner thought, monumentally stupid, or at the very least seriously overconfident. Faran and the others had no way of knowing what might be waiting for them there. There could be a trap. The wizards out here had apparently been nothing to worry about, but there might be far better wizards guarding the overlord. There could be witches, with their subtle spells, or sorcerers, with their mysterious talismans, or theurgists who could call the G.o.ds to their aid, or demonologists who could, of course, summon demons.

Warlockry might be powerful magic, but it was hardly theonly magic.

”I had better go with them,” Hanner said. ”They may need someone else, someone who's not...”

He didn't finish the sentence, because he could not honestly say he wasn't on either side. He was his uncle's nephew-and he was a warlock, even if no one knew it.

If they were walking into a trap-well, he would try not to walk into it with them.

The sensible, safe thing to do would be to stay where he was, of course-or better still, slip out the back and head to Mavi's house, where he could wait out the coming confrontation. No one but Sheila knew he was a warlock, so far as he knew; certainly the overlord didn't. He could just wait it out, and when everything was settled he could move back into the Palace, back where he belonged.. .

But Uncle Faran wouldn't be moving back into the family apartment with him. No matter what happened, he couldn't imagine that. Faran would be dead, or exiled-or if this march turned out the way Hanner thought Faran expected, Faran would be the city's new ruler, and would presumably be living in the overlord's apartments. But, Hanner thought, he and Nerra and Alris could stay on at the Palace, surely.They hadn't done anything.

He wondered what was happening to Nerra, back in the Palace. Did she know what was happening out here? Was she frightened left alone there, her brother, sister, and uncle all locked out?

She was probably fine, he told himself. Alris was fine. They were safely out of the way.

But Uncle Faran was on his way to confront Lord Azrad the Sedentary, and Hanner couldn't just stand by and watch. He pushed past the other warlocks and out the door.

The air in the vacant stretch of street felt oddly still and lifeless-clearly, the warlocks were not just pus.h.i.+ng the soldiers back, but had created barriers blockinganything from approaching Warlock House.

Hanner began to sweat as he hurried through the dooryard and out the gate, then turned left and followed his uncle.

Desset glanced at him as he pa.s.sed, but said nothing and stayed at her post, holding back the soldiers in Coronet Street. Hanner noticed that some of those soldiers were slipping away to the north, presumably planning to return to the Palace by another route.

He was also vaguely aware that a handful of the other warlocks were following him, belatedly joining their comrades, but he didn't concern himself with them.

Faran's party of warlocks was marching relentlessly forward, side by side-not fast, but advancing steadily, pus.h.i.+ng the soldiers back along High Street, regardless of whether those soldiers were standing or fallen. Most of the guards were retreating in disorder; some were standing their ground until actively dislodged by the advancing wall of magic, or were trying to help fallen comrades to their feet.

Some soldiers were no longer resisting at all, but just lying in the dirt, allowing themselves to be shoved or rolled along.

”Give me room!” someone shouted. The cry was strangely m.u.f.fled, and Hanner realized it was coming from beyond the magical barrier the warlocks were pus.h.i.+ng forward. He tried to see who had spoken.

It was one of the wizards, a man about Hanner's own age in a gold and white robe; soldiers were pus.h.i.+ng and shoving to get out of his way, even more desperately then they were trying to avoid being knocked down by the warlock wall.

And Hanner could see why. The wizard was holding aloft a dagger, and miniature lightning was playing around the blade in crackling blue-white arcs. Hanner ran forward, calling a warning.

His cry was not necessary-Faran was already pointing the wizard out to his companions.

The wizard pointed the dagger at the warlocks, launching a bolt, at the same instant that Rudhira raised a hand in a warding gesture. A blaze of blue-white fire leaped from the knife blade- and spattered harmlessly into a shower of sparks against the invisible barrier.

The knife trembled in the wizard's hand, but did not fall. Lord Faran looked questioningly at Rudhira.

”It's enchanted,” she said. ”It's so full of wizardry that I can't affect it.” ”Leave it, then. On to the Palace!”

”The Palace!” Varrin and Kirsha cried-but Hanner, pus.h.i.+ng through the group and panting up behind the five leaders, noticed that Yorn did not join in, but merely looked unhappy, while Ru-dhira's cry trailed off in midword.

She was looking northward-not toward the Palace, but beyond.

”Uncle Faran!” Hanner called.

Faran turned without stopping his steady march. ”What are you doing here, boy?” he asked. ”It's not safe.”

”I can see that,” Hanner said angrily. ”But you might need another voice when you talk to the overlord.”