Since he'd become Markus the Ineluctable's personal
servant they'd stopped laughing. Prugg was just intelli-
gent enough to realize this. He was very grateful to
' the magician. Markus made him feel comfortable,
feven though he understood very little of what his
new master had to say.
But he didn't have to think anymore. Markus did
all his thinking for him, Prugg found thinking
uncomfortable. And nobody laughed at him anymore.
• He was respected and feared. It was a new sensation
<and Prugg found that he liked it. Markus under-
'•Steod him, understood his needs. Prugg responded
^with devoted, unquestioning service.
^' So he considered the question carefully before
)lying. "It is true that the lands to the north of the
24 Alan Dean Foster
city are not as thickly inhabited as those in other
directions. Master."
"What's the land to the north of here like?"
"Open forest where live peoples who do not pledge
their allegiance to the city or to any other government,
Master. North of that is the Wrounipai, the first of
many swamps all connected together that run from
west to east. They cut us off from any lands that lie
still farther north."
"And what about those lands?"
"I do not know. Master. I have never been there. I
do not know anyone from the city who has ever been
there."
"And that's the way this bird was heading when he
left Opiode's place." Markus turned his full attention
on his spy. "You're certain of that?"
"Y-y-y-y-for sure, wise one! I am certain of it. He
f-f-f-flew straight away from the wizard's neighborhood.
I followed him with my eyes from the rooftops
nearby."
"Okay, but how can we be sure he was on a mission
for Opiode?"
The visitor moved nearer, anxious to ingratiate
himself with the magician- His whiskers trembled as
he whispered.
"The wizard Opiode has a young assistant named
Flute. I s-s-saw him conversing with the raven before
he took off for the north." Markus was nodding
absently, admiring the polished hardwood inlay of
the table behind him- A single chair rested against
the table.
It needs something, he thought. A gargoyle or
demon or some such carved atop the chair. Some-
thing to draw the visitors' eyes upward. For that
matter, if the table was going to serve as a desk, it
had to be up on a dais. He'd have to get some
TBE MOMENT OF THE MAGICIAN 25
carpenters in here and get them started on the
alterations he wanted.
He was aware of his spy standing hopeful and
silent by his legs. "That's it?"
"That is all, w-w-wise one "
Markus nodded, glanced toward Prugg. "Give him
a gold piece."
"Thank you, wise one!" The spy was unaccus-
tomed to such largess, but Markus had always be-
lieved in paying his help as much as possible. Other-
wise you ended up with garbage working for you,
ready to sell you out to the first high bidder. Even if
he was overpaying for this particular bit of information,
in so doing he was buying himself a valuable servant
forever.
The mouse took the coin; skittered quickly away
from the ominous, silent shape of Prugg; and did
some admirable bowing and scraping as he retreated
from the magician's room.
When the door was closed once more, Prugg turned
to his benefactor. "What will you do now, Master?"
"What would you suggest?"
Prugg strained. Thinking hurt his head. "There
are faster fliers than ravens, Master. I would send
them after this one. Better not to take chances. Kill
it."
"He has nearly a full day's head start," Markus
murmured, "but I agree with your suggestion." Prugg
smiled proudly. "I will send fliers out after him, yes,
faut 1 will not hire them. I will conjure them forth to
do our bidding."
""Yes. Master," said Prugg admiringly, waiting to
see what the magician would do next.
What Markus did was to assume a wide stance in
the middle of the room. The floor there had been
deared of all furniture and decoration. Prugg moved
to one side for a better view. He found it astonishing
Alan Dean Foster
26
that Markus required no special chamber in which to
perform his wizardry. Nothing but a clear floor and
plenty of arm room.
As always, Markus mumbled the incantation. Not
that Prugg would have understood the words any
better than Opiode, but Markus the Ineluctable took
no chances with his secrets.
The room darkened perceptibly and the air grew
very still. Prugg would have been able to see better
with glow bulbs, but Markus would have nothing of
Opiode's around him and insisted instead on using
simple torches for illumination.
Then a faint whine became audible, alien and
harsh, rising slowly in volume. Prugg strained to see.
In the center of the room, in front of Markus,
shapes took form. If was as the magician had said:
fliers, but fliers akin to none Prugg had ever heard
tell of. He found himself backing away. They were
far smaller than he was, but ugly and threatening to
behold.
Markus, on the other hand, seemed delighted by
their appearance. They danced and whirled over his
head as he guided them with words and hands.
"Beautiful, beautiful! Better than I dared hope
for. If only I could've called them up as a child. Ah,
well, Prugg, it takes time to master the art. See,
they're just as I described theml"
The demons continued to pivot and spin over
their master's head, roaring exultantly and gnashing
their long teeth. In the enclosed space the din was
deafening.
They had no faces, Prugg noted.
No eyes, nostrils, external ears, or visible mouths.
Only those mindless, clashing teeth. Fangs without
jaws. Prugg found he was shaking. There were worse
things in the world than one's own nightmares^
"To the north!" Markus cried, pointing with one
Tsss Moanswr or THE WAQSCSAS 2,7
If v!
ft^
^
m
hand. "There flies the raven named Pandro. Where
he's going 1 don't know, but see that he doesn't get
there. Go!"
One by one, in single file, the faceless demons tore
through the open window. Only when the last of the
growling chorus had faded into the light of mideve
did Markus drop his hands and return to stand
behind his desk.
"About this chair, Prugg. What I want you to do
is—" He stopped and stared at his bodyguard. "Are
you paying attention?"
The huge servant forced his gaze away from the
window where the demons had taken their leave and
back to his master. Markus was speaking as though
die conjuration had never taken place. It was all so
matter-of-fact, so ordinary to him, this calling up of
otherworldly powers.
Truly Prugg was fortunate to have him for a master.
It was a lovely warm day, the air thick with humidi-
ty but not oppressively so. Below Pandro the trees
had closed in, shutting off sight of the ground. He
was already well north not only of Quasequa but of
its outlying villages and satellite communities as well.
Rising thermals allowed him to glide effortlessly
over the dense tropical forest. Since departing
Quasequa he'd stopped only once, and that briefly,
the previous night to catch a bit of sleep. Then up
before dawn for a fast breakfast of fruit, nuts, and
dried fish and on to the north.
In his mind he reviewed the landmarks he would
pass on his way to the distant Bellwoods, a forested