When he appeared I gasped in horror. Shoogar had gone gray and haggard; new circles had appeared under his eyes and his skin was discolored in angry red patches as if he had been caught too close to one of his own spells.
But what had startled me most was that Shoogar had shaved off all his fur! He was totally naked and hairless — a frightened caricature of the mad magician!
He greeted me with a wan smile, grateful for my company. I began to lay out the ritual supper for him. It is traditional that on the night before a duel the men of the village serve a meal of faith to their patron warlock. But the others had fled, so that duty had fallen on me alone.
I stood silently by and waited, serving him at each gesture or grunt. It was not much of a meal, but it was the best I could prepare under such circumstances. Shoogar seemed not to mind. He ate slowly, savoring every bite. He looked tired and his hands trembled as he moved. But he ate heartily.
By the time he laid aside his bone foot-stabber, the red sun had long disappeared from the west. The moons had not yet appeared. He moved slowly, but whether from satiation or exhaustion, it was impossible to tell.
“Where are the others?” he asked.
They’ve fled.” I explained what happened. Shoogar listened carefully, occasionally picking at some previously overlooked morsel in the bowls before him.
“I did not expect the stranger to move,” he muttered. “It is a bad thing — but clever. Now I must alter my spell to account for this new factor. You say he tried to talk to the women?” He bit into a fruit.
I nodded, “My number three wife.”
“Ptah!” Shoogar spat out the seeds in disgust, “The man must have no taste. Hmp. If one is going to lower oneself to talk to women, one could at least choose the women of a worthy rival.”
“You have no women,” I pointed out.
“It’s still an insult to me,” brooded Shoogar.
“Perhaps he doesn’t know any better. Remember, he said that the ways of his homeland are very different from ours.”
“Ignorance could be the excuse for his bad manners,” Shoogar grumbled, “but only madness could explain the man’s trespasses against common sense.”
“It is said that a madman possesses the strength of ten …”
Shoogar gave me a look, “I know what it said. Most of the time I said it first”
We sat there in silence. After a while I asked, “What do you think will happen on the morrow?”
“There will be a duel. One will win, one will lose.”
“But who …?’! prompted.
“If it were possible to tell which magician would win a duel, there would be no need for duels.”
Again we sat in silence. This was the first time Shoogar had referred to the duel with any indication of doubt. Always before he had expressed confidence in his own abilities and skepticism for the powers of Purple. Clearly the duel had taken its toll even before the first spell had been cast.
“Lant,” he said abruptly, “I will need your help.”
I looked up startled. “Me? But I know nothing of magic. You have told me that I am a fool countless times. Is it wise to risk such an important undertaking in the hands of a …?”
“Shut up, Lant,” he said softly. I shut. “All you have to do is help me transport my spellcasting equipment up the mountain to Purple’s nest. We will need two bicycles or some pack animals. I cannot carry it all myself.”
I breathed easier at that. “Oh, well, in that case —”
We were on our way within the hour.
It was close to dawn when we reached the site of the encampment. The deserted lean-tos and shelters stood bleak and empty in the night, like some fearful city of the dead. I found myself trembling.
We rode through it wordlessly, finally parking our bicycles on the slope just below the spring. We could hear it babbling carelessly in the dark.
Taking care to keep as quiet as possible, we edged forward, up the hill. I held my breath till we topped the rise, then let it out in a whoosh. Yes, the nest was still there.
I believe I would have cried bitter tears had it been gone. I am sure it would have killed Shoogar. The frustration of having an enemy flee from him in such a manner would have been too much.
We crept back to the deserted encampment, there to wait the coming of dawn. I ached for a chance to sleep, but Shoogar gave me a potion to keep me awake. To keep him company, he said. He began laying out his equipment, organizing and sorting. “If I can only take him by surprise,” he muttered. He paused to oil a metal knife. “And if only there were some way to draw him away from his nest…”
That’s not needed,” I blurted. “He will probably leave it by himself. He is testing again. He said this when I spoke to him. He wants to test the mountain.”
“H’m; said Shoogar. “This is a bit of good fortune. I hope that he tests the mountain the same way that he tested the village; for when he tested the village he was gone from his nest almost the entire day.”
“What if he doesn’t? What if he returns before the curse is finished?”
“Let us hope he does not.”
“Can’t you do something?”
Shoogar paused, thought for a moment, then rummaged in his kit. He produced a small leather pouch of dust and another of herbs. “Here, go and spread this dust around the outside of his nest. It is very fine dust; it will float in the air for hours. If he breathes any of it, it will produce a very strong yearning in him. He will not return until that yearning is satisfied.”
“But, what about me?”
“That’s what the herbs are for. When you finish with the dust, you will take half of those herbs and chew them well. When they turn bitter in your mouth, swallow them, but not until they turn bitter. Bring the rest of the herbs back to me, so I may chew them. They will make us both immune to the power of the dust.”
I nodded, then crept up the hill and did as I was instructed. When I brought the two leather pouches back to Shoogar he was just laying out the last of his equipment. One swollen pouch he handled most carefully. “Powdered magician’s hair,” he explained. I did not blame him for handling it carefully. He had sacrificed much to produce it; his squat and shaven body trembled with the cold.
Abruptly, a troubled look crossed his face, “I am sure that Purple’s power is in some way connected with his nest. I must get into it somehow. That is the only part of my curse that I am in doubt about. I must get into that nest…”
My heart leapt. “But, I can help you there— ” I fairly shouted, then remembered to lower my voice. “Today — I mean, yesterday (for dawn was fast approaching) — I was able to get close enough to Purple to observe how he worked his doorspell.”
Shoogar nearly leapt at me, “Lant, you are a fool!” Then he thought to lower his voice. “Why did you not tell me this earlier?” he hissed.
“You did not ask me.”
“Well, I am asking you now — how does it work?”
I explained what I had seen, the pattern of bumps on the nestwall, how Purple had tapped at them in a certain way and how the door had slid open immediately after. Shoogar listened carefully. “Obviously, the order in which he touched the bumps is the way the spell in controlled. Think, Lant! Which bumps did he touch?”
“That I did not see…” I admitted.
Shoogar cursed, “Then why bother to tell me how to open the door if you do not know? Lant, you are a fool.”
“I am sorry — but it happened so quickly. If I could only remember — If I could only see it again —”
“Perhaps …” said Shoogar. “Perhaps … Lant, have you ever been placed under the spell of the open mind?”
I shook my head.
“It is a spell of great power. It can be used to make you remember things that you think you have forgotten.”