“This,” I said accusingly, motioning at the comfortable room around us, “does not look to me like putting magic behind you. Nor does putting a summoning spell on children.” Keep him talking, I thought. Find out all I could about him: his reasoning, his motivation, his magic. So far I hadn’t seen anything that could help.
“Are you just not paying attention, Daimbert?” he asked and shook his head in a scolding way. “I really have given up magic. Your bishop inspired me. So if I’ve worked just a few little spells since then … Have you ever worked with a demon yourself?” he added suddenly.
“No.” It came out harsher than I intended; I was, after all, trying to seem friendly, at least until he took us to Antonia.
“My, you sound dismissive. You’re as bad as Vlad. It’s quite a challenge, I’ll tell you! You find yourself doing things you hadn’t quite intended, like killing a frog and bringing it back to life to impress the little ones. That’s why I’ve decided not to do magic at all anymore.”
“Are you sure the demon will be as willing to break away from you as you are from him?”
“Willpower, that’s all it takes,” said Cyrus airily. “After all, while I was in Caelrhon I often went several weeks without practicing magic of any kind. But I remember well the arguments Vlad gave me when I first asked him about black magic. He tried to tell me that he’d never had demonic assistance with his spells, that it would be a sign of incompetence if he couldn’t get results with unaided magic, and that as well as taking your soul demons will often make your life miserable even while supposedly granting all your wishes. My guess,” and he gave a broad wink, “was that Vlad had tried himself to interest a demon in helping him and got turned down flat. Why should the devil offer anything valuable for a soul already on its way to hell? Mine, of course,” with a smug smile, “was different.”
Something he’d said caught my attention. “Are you sure,” I asked cautiously, “that Vlad wasn’t trying to goad you into summoning a demon, either because none would work with him or he did still hope to shield himself from the effects of black magic? It sounds as though he was hoping to put all the burden on you but get the benefits himself.”
“If so, it didn’t work,” Cyrus replied, still smug. “He did hint that I should ask the demon to repair his body for him, but I refused, of course. I knew already that I planned to save my soul, and helping such an evil old man couldn’t do any good!”
“Have you,” I asked in amazement, “said any of this to the bishop?”
“Not yet. I intend to surprise him once the saints assure me that I’m truly saved.”
If this wasn’t the only man who could take us to Antonia I would have fled. Horror and revulsion filled me-both at him, with his self-absorption, complacency, and pathetic belief that he could save his soul through willpower, and especially at the demon, who had allowed him to believe he still had the slightest chance.
Cyrus became serious suddenly. “I know you’ve studied magic a lot longer than I have, Daimbert, but haven’t you sometimes felt its inadequacies?”
“Magic,” I said carefully, “is part of the same natural forces that shaped the world, but even the best wizards can do no more than tug at its edges.”
Cyrus looked at me a long moment, and for once his eyes looked both sober and sane. “You’ve put it better than I could. Though I might add, magic’s other limitation is that it only works in this world. To transcend material limitations, you need religion. That’s the message I learned in Caelrhon’s seminary. The bishop will be very happy when he hears I’ve rescued you.”
“What about kidnapping the children?” demanded Theodora. “The bishop wasn’t happy about that! And you told me you’d take us to them.”
“Soon, very soon,” he replied, his expression once again wild. “Piping them out of town was actually the demon’s idea, not mine. It was a good one, though!” with a chuckle. “I certainly taught a lesson to all those citizens of Caelrhon who couldn’t even say thank-you politely after I’d cleared up their rat problem for them. But you see, that’s the beauty of Christianity. You can sin, but it’s all right if you’re penitent and make restitution afterwards.”
It sounded to me as though he had not been paying very close attention to basic concepts in seminary.
“So I’ll make restitution by letting them all go again! I have to tell you, Daimbert,” with almost a giggle, “that I was especially pleased to get revenge on you. It was your meddling that made the bishop distrust me in the first place, when my ultimate purpose was always so pure! Once I found out you had a daughter in Caelrhon, I knew my piping would bring her along with the rest. Vlad especially thought that was a good idea-he’s planning his own revenge, of course. It did occur to me that she might know a spell or two, so I was on guard. Good thing I was, too! Do you know, Daimbert, she tried to put a transformations spell on me?”
“What have you done with Antonia?” cried Theodora.
“Nothing at all,” said Cyrus, turning to look at her. “I haven’t even pointed her out to Vlad. I just broke her spell before it took effect. Pretty good spell for one so small!”
So Antonia did know at least the elements of transformation-could Elerius have taught her?
“And of course,” Cyrus continued, “I told her very sternly not to try anything again with a man who was friends with a demon. Are you then this girl’s mother? Curious, Daimbert. I had assumed the blonde”-with a nod toward Gwennie-“was your sweetheart.”
Gwennie blushed pink, but Cyrus wasn’t paying attention. “We should go see the children now. Vlad is still occupied with the lightning storm I settled over the castle. This has been a fascinating discussion, Daimbert, but I sense your sweetheart is growing impatient. Come, and I will take you to where the children are hidden.”
IV
Again we hurried down stairs, corridors, and twisting passageways, scrambling through narrow openings mostly blocked by fallen stone, at one point descending a staircase set within a walclass="underline" probably once a secret stair before the wall that concealed it had fallen. In the damper passages our hands brushed against mold-encrusted stones, in dryer ones the sharp, sticky threads of giant cobwebs. A distant moaning could have been the wind or could have been the calls of evil apparitions of men long dead. At least we never seemed to approach the cellars where the demon lurked.
There had to be an easier way, I thought, to get where we were going. Either Cyrus was deliberately confusing us or else he was staying out of Vlad’s part of the castle. I tried to keep track of our many turnings and, looking at Paul, thought he was doing the same. It must be easier for him-after all, he had explored this castle by daylight.
“Now, you won’t be able actually to talk with the little girl,” said Cyrus, “but-”
Theodora whirled on him so fiercely that he backed up a step. “You said we could see her! You said she was all right!”
“Yes, yes!” he said quickly. “You can see her, but she won’t see you. Vlad has imprisoned all the children behind an invisible shield.”
I didn’t want to dwell on what Vlad’s plans might be for them. Would he think children’s flesh, because younger and fresher, better for rebuilding his body than that of adults? “How hard would it be to break this shield?” I asked, thinking fast. I might be able to improvise a way to dismantle the spell-if doing so didn’t bring Vlad racing through the castle at once to stop me.
“Very hard,” said Cyrus, looking concerned for a moment, but he immediately cheered up. “I know! I can have the demon break it!”
“You said you’d done your last demon-assisted spell,” Gwennie pointed out, her lips white.
“Whoops! So I did. See how difficult it is, Daimbert?” he said, hurrying ahead of us through an arcade. “You have to be constantly alert.”