"Bar's over there," said the haughty voice, only minimally warmer. It turned out to be coming from a sawed-off little squirt of a guy with a long, thin nose and large, limpid eyes. "We had to move it from the original location while the new library was being installed. Half the books kept absorbing the alcohol. Although you can still have a drink in there. Some of the members need it while they're reading."
"Thanks," I said. "Say, can you tell me if one of my buddies came in in the last couple of hours? He's a Pikinise. He's got a book he said I could borrow."
"Oh, him! Yes, he's in the library." Squirt pointed us toward the huge oil painting of a room full of leather-bound books on carved wooden shelves. It was a magikal illusion that covered the doorway. Another couple of stage assistants stood by to acclaim anyone who came or went through it. "Guy sure can drink. Not much for talking."
"Thanks." I started in the direction he indicated.
"Come on," I said to Tananda and Calypsa. "The library's filled with tall shelves. We can surround him and sneak up on him."
"I fear not, good Aahz," Ersatz whispered to me from inside his illusory disguise as a set of twirling batons. "I can sense Payge, therefore he can sense us. He may alert Froome. We must hurry."
"Right." I sauntered faster. "Move it."
Five feet from the oil painting, we bounced off an invisible barrier. I shoved at it, but it seemed to stretch out in every direction. I stormed back to the concierge's desk.
"What's the idea?" I demanded.
"Sorry," Squirt said. He blinked at us. "Are your two very fetching assistants fully qualified magicians? Because if they're not, they can't go in. Sorry for the inconvenience, ladies. Rules of the house. You know that. Chapter 18 of the Magicians' Club Guidelines and Grimoire."
I shrugged to the others. That caveat had slipped my mind. The big reception room and the bar were the only parts of the club that strangers, that was to say, nonmembers, could enter. Which was a shame, since it was a pretty interesting building, with its own handsomely-appointed, plush theater for club-only performances where magicians tried out their new acts for one another, private rooms for banquets and business meetings, repair facilities for magikal items, a wine cellar that would astonish maitre d's at the hotels around us.
"That's all right," Tananda said, sauntering toward the deep, velvet-covered couches and divans that were arranged in cosy conversation groups all over the vast room. "We'll just make ourselves comfortable."
"Say, Bub," I said, drawing the sawn-off doorwarden aside. "Is there any way I could arrange for a private conference with my friend in there? I don't want to disturb anyone else, but we've got to have a major professional conversation."
The Squirt eyed me. "You know the rules about ruining the decor. No incendiary magik, no summoning
elementals, no ordnance except what's specified in the Magus Convention."
I held up an innocent palm. "If anyone rips the wallpaper, it isn't going to be me," I promised him.
"All right. I'll have a word with the others and see if they'll give you a little privacy. Come with me."
I trailed him to the library door. He stepped through and turned to give me a harried look.
"Well? I haven't got all night."
I rammed into the invisible barrier. I pounded on it with my palms, then my fists. It didn't make a sound, but I couldn't move any farther forward. "What the hell is going on here? I'm a member in good standing."
"Hmmm." The Squirt came over to me, then held up his palms and walked all the way around me. He frowned. He did the hand test again. Then he beckoned. From amidst the trapeze show on the ceiling swooped a gray-skinned, winged and fanged hulk in a tuxedo. I recognized him as Savona, a Scourge, denizen of a dimension I didn't visit very often, partly because the locals make me think of vampires on steroids. Villagers with torches and pitchforks don't run after them, they run away. Scourges were very long-lived, very smart, and very tough. The Club had employed them for millenia. I suspected that the current employees might even be the originals. They have senses not unlike those of bats, including hearing that make Pervects seem as deaf as elderly Klahds. If you whisper a drink order anywhere in the club, the Scourge behind the bar will make it for you and send it to your table on a wisp of force. They believe in good service, but they still give me the creeps. Having one show up when you aren't expecting him is a good way to get a cardiovascular workout while sitting down.
"How may I serve, Mr. Polka?" this one asked, very politely.
"Test him, Mr. Savona," the Squirt said.
The Scourge's left eyebrow went up. "But, this is Mr. Aahzmandius."
"That's what he says. Test him. Something's wrong. Why can't he go through the members-only barrier?"
Savona fixed his gaze upon me. The large black eyes seemed as though they were looking right through to my backbone. He lowered his voice.
"Mr. Aahzmandius can't pass the barrier because his ties to the force lines are broken."
"He has no magik?" Polka asked. "Then, why did the main door let him through? Even if a stranger answers all the questions, it doesn't mean the portal recognizes him."
"He is carrying a very powerful magik item in the bag over his shoulder," Savona said, aiming a talon-like fingernail at Asti's bag. "No doubt the door thought it was coming from him. The same for the ladies in his company." He bowed to Tananda and Calypsa. Tanda wiggled a couple of fingers at him and smiled invitingly. Savona's complexion turned a deeper gray. Even Scourges weren't immune to Trollops' charms.
"Items? What kind of items?"
"All right!" I said, slapping Polka heartily on the back. "You got me! It worked!"
"What worked?" Polka asked, his little face wrinkling in concentration.
I leaned forward confidentially. "The board of directors didn't want it known yet, but they wanted to check the security systems here in the club to make sure they are working. They've sent in several other members over the last month—maybe you've noticed a few of them? They seem perfectly normal, but there's something a little off about them?"
Polka looked astonished, but Savona cleared his throat gently. "Like the Deveel that had been multiplied into triplets? He only had one membership card, but he requested admission for all three of his simulacra, sir."
"I remember. We let him in. I wasn't happy about it, but his was the face on the card. However, we did not allow him to buy three drinks for the price of one."
"Yes, that's right," I said. "You handled that one just right, too."
Polka frowned.
"So let me get this straight—you let the Board remove your powers temporarily so you could trigger the 'members-only' barriers?"
"Yup. And to see if I could get you to let me into the rest of the club premises even though I don't qualify." I laughed heartily. "But you stuck to procedure. They're gonna be really pleased with you, lemme tell you!"
Polka looked horrified. "Why would anyone do that? Leaving yourself. ..helpless!"
"Well," I said, looking modest. "Sometimes you've just got to take one for the club, you know? Rule 46: a member must keep the well-being of his fellows uppermost in his mind at all times."
"That's Rule 47," Polka said, peevishly. "
Savona cleared his throat again. The soft sound had menace behind it. His fangs gleamed.
"He's lying, Mr. Polka."
"No, I'm not," I said, heartily. "I'm just a good guy helping out."
"This is the first that I have heard of a test of the security system. I have been in charge of that department for 1,043 years. The Board has never shown any signs of being discontented with my work or that of my colleagues. There have been no significant breaches that would provoke them to undertake such a test. I believe he must have lost his powers under some other circumstances. I am afraid, though, that such a loss does constitute grounds for dismissal from the membership."