“Or will I maybe never die again? Doesn’t the Bible say that, after Lazarus was brought back to life, he became immortal?”
This time he laughed. “You’re not Lazarus. Besides, that story isn’t in the Bible, which only tells us that Christ raised him. It’s the kind of story young priests like to tell, but it’s not true. All of us are going to die, and you’re not an exception.”
He smiled cheerfully, as though he had just said something very comforting; and in a way he had. He went out as Gwen came in with my second breakfast.
She hurried away without a word, and when I heard a step outside a few minutes later, I assumed Joachim was returning, having forgotten something. “Come in!” I called, when the step seemed to hesitate.
My door swung open, but it was not the chaplain. It was two wizards, one in a tall red hat and the other with piercing blue eyes and an enormous white beard: Zahlfast and the Master of the wizards’ school. “May we indeed come in?”
V
“Yes, yes, come in,” I said, flabbergasted. I struggled to raise myself from the bed, to make the wizards the full bow, but fell back without success. “What are you two doing here?”
They entered in a stately manner, closed the door, and found chairs. “The supernatural influence is gone, I note,” said Zahlfast. “We saw the remains of the dragon’s carcass down by the edge of the forest as we flew in, and then your constable told us you’d overcome a demon! He took us for an escorted tour of the cellars, including the hole he said the demon made when it returned to hell.”
“The hole?” I had no idea what he was talking about.
“It’s at the very end of the cellars,” said Zahlfast soberly, “a black hole about two feet across, and it’s still smoking. When you look down, you can’t see anything, only darkness so black it’s almost solid, and when you drop something down, you can’t hear it hit. We put a triple pentagram around it. As you know, nothing should come back up unless summoned, but it seemed to make your constable feel better, and we wanted to save you the trouble. He plans to cover everything over.”
That sounded like an excellent plan to me.
“Now,” said the Master, “could you tell us exactly what’s been happening?”
I told them, although when I had left the City for Yurt and imagined some day telling the Master of my triumphs, I had not imagined doing so sitting up in bed in yellow pajamas. Besides, it wasn’t a triumph I was describing.
“So I guess it’s all right now,” I finished, “even though I’ll know, if it ever happens again, to get a demonology expert right away. Someone else, more expert, might have been able to negotiate a settlement with the demon without having to offer it his own life. But what are you doing here? Did the chaplain send you a message?”
“No,” said Zahlfast, “we got no message, unless that was you calling a month ago. The phone rang at the school, yet there was no one on the line. When I heard about it, at first I just thought someone had called us by mistake, or was doing so for a joke, but then I remembered you and your far-seeing but inaudible telephones.”
“That was me,” I said. “The demon had grown bold and was teasing us by running around the castle in daylight, while the chaplain was away. It was afraid of the chaplain.”
Zahlfast and the Master looked at each other, the same slightly skeptical look they had given each other when I told them Joachim had miraculously brought me back from the dead. “I want to show you these telephones, Master,” said Zahlfast. He reached one of them down from their shelf and spoke the name attached to the wizards’ school instrument.
This time it worked perfectly. The base lit up, as it always had, but when the tiny figure of a young wizard picked up the receiver, he could hear Zahlfast.
They spoke for several minutes. “Yes, that’s right,” said Zahlfast. “So we’ll probably be home tomorrow or maybe the day after. No, there’s no problem now.”
“Congratulations, young wizard,” said the Master, his frost blue eyes sparkling. “You’ve made an original contribution to wizardry and will probably have your name in the new edition of Ancient and Modern Necromancy. Not bad, for someone not yet thirty.”
“It works!” I gasped. “I’d told the constable an anti-telephonic demonic influence was affecting my phones, and I was actually right!”
“You’ll have to teach us that spell,” said Zahlfast.
I thought ruefully that they seemed more impressed by my telephones than my return to life. “But what are you two doing here?” I asked, returning to my original question, wondering if I could possibly reconstruct the sequence of spells I had tried on the telephones over the past few months. “Were you just so busy it took you a month to get here after my call?”
“Well,” said Zahlfast, looking surprisingly embarrassed, “at first I didn’t think anything of it, though I should have realized immediately it was you asking for help. It wasn’t until we heard about the dragon going over on Christmas day that I began to think there might be something seriously wrong in Yurt.
“First we got telephone calls from the wizards in courts with telephones, and then the next day the messages started coming in from the pigeon relay station. When we plotted them on a map, it became clear that the dragon had been heading for Yurt, for no one south of Yurt had seen it.”
“And even then,” said the Master with a chuckle, “we had an idea that you might be a competent enough wizard to handle a dragon, although we probably should have considered the likelihood of a demon as well.”
“Didn’t you,” I said accusingly, “even for a minute, suspect that I was practicing black magic and might have brought the dragon down for my own purposes?”
Zahlfast blushed, which I had never seen him do before.
“Not at all,” said the Master. “At most, one or two people had momentary doubts. Besides, we knew there was another wizard here, the retired wizard of Yurt, who could help you.”
“He did help me with the dragon. I never could have killed it without him. But what do you know about the old wizard?”
“I’ve only met him once,” said the Master, “this summer. That’s when he came to the City to try to find out about you.”
“He came to the City?” I cried in amazement. “You didn’t tell me this, Zahlfast.”
“That’s because I only found out about it myself the other day.”
The Master laughed. “He said when he arrived that he would talk to the head of the school or to no one, so he had to talk to me.”
“But I always thought he didn’t want to have anything to do with the wizards’ school.”
“I don’t think he ever does. But he wanted to know about you. He said he’d left you sleeping among his herbs for the whole day, while he flew down to the City. Said he’d never been to the school before, hoped he’d never come there again, but he thought this was the fastest way to find out about someone he called a ‘young whipper-snapper.’ Took me a few minutes to realize he meant you.”
“So what did you tell him?” I asked, feeling highly inadequate. Once again, everyone else seemed to know my business much better than I did.
“I told him you had flair and promise, if you ever applied yourself. And from the look of the telephones, it’s clear that you have. To say nothing of killing a dragon and defeating a demon, even if you nearly got yourself killed in the process.”
“Did get myself killed,” I corrected, but they pretended not to notice.
Zahlfast stood up. “You look tired. I think we should let you rest.”
“Just don’t leave Yurt yet,” I said. “Most of the guest chambers are still sound, in spite of the dragon. And you’ll want to try our cook’s excellent holiday meals. I hear they had to leave the boar at the duchess’s castle, but I’m quite sure she wouldn’t have left the Christmas cookies.”
“We’ll stay tonight at least,” said the Master. “Sleep now, and we’ll talk more later.”