“So if I were to sum the story up into a single sentence,” he said, “I might say that due to a string of accidental mishaps-
“That were by no means my fault!” the kender added hastily.
“That were by no means your fault, the spell you tried to cast was altered in such a way as to destroy magic.”
“Just so!” the kender beamed.
Cedwick gave a longing glance toward the tower and wished he were packing again.
“You do realize that the rest of the world believes magic is gone because the gods have departed, don’t you?”
“Of course!” the kender said. “Uncle Tasslehoff defeated Chaos and the gods departed, and so it’s only natural for everyone to assume that’s why magic is gone!”
“I want you to understand,” Cedwick said, “because of that, the Conclave isn’t likely to believe your story.”
“No?” Halivar pouted. He looked at the apprentice mage. “You believe me, though, don’t you, Master Cedwick?”
“What I believe doesn’t matter, Halivar. Master Laudus and the Conclave must believe.”
“Oh! I’ll go explain it Master Laudus then!”
“No!” Cedwick said quickly. “If you approach him with this story, he is likely to find the idea preposterous. In the end, he may dismiss the idea simply because it came from-” He paused. “Well, from a kender, Halivar.”
The wizard slayer pursed his lips. “He would?”
“Just because Master Laudus is part of the Conclave,” the young man explained, “doesn’t mean he is infallible. Perhaps because of his training, he can’t believe anything less than a god could take away magic. Do you understand?”
“I think so.”
“Good.”
“So you mean to say,” the kender’s eyes widened, “that I’m a god?”
“That’s not what I-” Cedwick began, when suddenly, the tree line exploded in a clap of thunder.
Cedwick fell to the ground, and Halivar clamped his hands over his ears. Green foliage flew in every direction, and behind it billowed a thick black cloud of smoke and debris. Something struck the tower behind Cedwkk with a deafening thud.
Cedwick spun his head around to glance at the tower, expecting part of the wall to be missing. To his astonishment, it appeared entirely undamaged. However, a large lump of metal sat smoldering on the ground where it had landed after deflecting off the wall.
“Good thing there’s some magic left in the walls,” Cedwick thought aloud, but he realized he couldn’t hear his own voice because the warning siren was wailing too loudly.
Warning siren?
Cedwick turned back toward the source of the explosion. A long, cylindrical metal snout emerged from the cloud of smoke. It rode forward unsteadily on a pair of mismatched wheels. Behind it appeared a horde of tiny sputtering men and women. They coughed and gagged and seemed very relieved when they finally cleared the smoke.
Gnomes.
They pushed the cannon forward a few more feet, and then a few of the little creatures began to reload their cannon. Cedwick quickly rose to his feet and began running toward them.
“Stop!” he shouted, his arms flailing.
Much to his dismay, no one heard him. This mainly stemmed from the fact that the gnomes could not figure out how to shut off their warning siren. In fact, they looked rather perplexed that the cannon even had a warning siren.
Several gnomes worked diligently on disengaging the warning siren, while another group occupied themselves with a debate as to why there was a warning siren, and half a dozen more targeted the tower for another blast. Behind the cannon, a delegation of four gnomes busied themselves with looking important and impressive.
Not one of them, in fact, paid any heed to the advancing young man. Nor did it occur to them that someone might be standing directly in the path of their cannon.
That person happened to be Cedwick.
“Stop!” Cedwick cried again, throwing himself to the ground, shutting his eyes, and covering his ears.
A long moment passed, and Cedwick felt quite certain he was about to be the recipient of a cannon blast. Quite suddenly, the siren ended. At last, when he decided that he might be still alive, he opened his eyes.
A dozen gnomes stood around him, looking down at him expectantly. The apprentice mage stood up, brushing off his white robes and trying to look as if falling in the dirt was a normal thing to do.
The lead gnome, dressed in his finest workman’s leather, bowed deeply.
“Howdoyoudo?” the gnome said, then remembering himself, he slowed his speech. “I am Jobin, the executive vice-director of the Subcommittee of Accidents and Mishaps pertaining to the Guild of Magic Analysis and Prestidigital Improvements.”
“I am Cedwick.”
“Are you a wizard?” Jobin asked.
“Of course.”
“Cedwick!” came a bellowing voice from above.
Cedwick turned to see a graven face leaning out of the study window.
“Master!”
“What is that confounded racket? Have you gotten rid of that kender?”
“No, I’m here!” said the kender happily.
“What are these gnomes doing here? Cedwick! If I have to come down there-”
“You won’t, Master Laudus! I assure you. I’ll handle the situation.”
“See that you do!” said the archmage and ducked back into the tower.
Instantly the air filled with a fugue of gnomish chatter. With a shrill toot from a bright silver whistle, Jobin silenced the party.
“We are honored, Master Cedwick, to meet one who knows Master Laudus. We have journeyed long and far to speak with him.”
“Then why were you attacking his tower?”
The gnomes shot each other baffled glances.
“We were doing no such thing!” Jobin asserted.
“You fired a cannon at the tower!” Cedwick cried.
“Yes,” the gnome nodded. “That is our signal cannon.”
“Signal cannon?”
“Indeed! We use it to announce our arrival and to request an audience with whomever we are visiting. It is quite ingenious really! A measured amount of explosive powder is stuffed into-”
“But why fire it at the tower?” Cedwick said, “Couldn’t you have fired it into an open area?”
The gnomes pondered this idea excitedly for a moment. Several of them broke away from the group to examine and modify the cannon.
“Truly you are a wise man, Master Cedwick,” said Jobin solemnly.
“He is! He truly is!” came a voice from behind the apprentice mage. Halivar bounded forward, one hand still clamped over an ear. Apparently, his rings had become tangled with his earrings and the whole mess was proving difficult to separate.
“Who might you be?” the gnome inquired.
“I’m Halivar Wizardslayer,” the kender said, “the god!”
Cedwick interjected, addressing Jobin politely. “May I ask what business you have here?”
“Certainly! As I said, we are here to see Master Laudus!”
“Regarding what?”
“We have very important information that will be relevant to the upcoming Conclave meeting.”
“Conclave meeting?”
“Yes. That’s why we are here, you see-because Master Laudus is going to the Conclave meeting.”
“If you don’t mind me asking-?” the apprentice began.
“Yes?” said the gnome.
“How is it that everyone in the world knows about the Conclave meeting?”
The gnomes looked at each other uncomfortably.
“Is it a secret?” Jobin asked.
“Yes,” replied Cedwick.
“We probably shouldn’t discuss it near the kender then.”
“It’s okay!” Halivar said. “I already know.”
“How did you find out, Halivar?” asked Cedwick.
“My Aunt Fern told me,” said the kender, “only she’s not my aunt. She’s really a second cousin once removed. Or is it a first cousin twice removed?”
“Please, Halivar. Just the explanation.”
“Anyway, she heard it from Glider Snapdragon, who got it from Miriam Redrash, who overheard a drunken wizard talking about it in jail.”
“How coincidental!” said Jobin. “We too heard of the Conclave meeting from a drunken wizard. Only he wasn’t in jail. He was sitting on a fence.”