Ishta turned up an empty palm. "If Semma is far enough to the south, perhaps there were simply no warlocks there to begin with."
"But wouldn't some have moved there?"
Ishta frowned. "Why?"
Lar was visibly discomfited. "The thing – the Calling. I have heard about that, and isn't it worse farther north?"
Ishta sighed. "You know about the Calling?"
"Yes. I've heard that it draws warlocks to the north, and is weaker the farther south one goes."
She shook her head. "It's not north or south," she said. "It depends entirely on how far you are from a certain spot in Aldagmor. You're right that it would be weaker in the southern Small Kingdoms, but the stories haven't made us feel welcome there. When warlocks flee the Calling we usually go west to Ethshar of the Rocks, or Tintallion of the Isle, not south. And most of us don't flee. There is no safe place anywhere in the World, and most of us prefer to stay in our homes and fight it there, with our friends around, not go running off into the wild somewhere to live among strangers."
"The Calling can be fought?"
"To a point." The warlock appeared uncomfortable saying this. "I'm told it can help to have other warlocks around, which is another reason not to flee to your Semma. You understand, though, this isn't something we discuss freely with outsiders."
"Of course, but if my grandson is going to hear this Calling someday, I want to know about it."
"He may never hear it, if he's careful. I have been a warlock for sixteen years, and haven't heard it at all yet. I use my magic to do delicate, small-scale work precisely because it's sheer magical power that attracts the Calling; the things I do require intense concentration, but very little raw energy. You won't see me flying about the streets, flinging magic around."
Emmis remembered how she had glided across the room without touching the floor, but said nothing, and tried to let his face show nothing. She might not even know she had done it, and he had no idea how she would react if he mentioned it.
She was not yet thirty, and she was using magic without realizing it. She might not have heard the Calling yet, but Emmis would not have wagered a copper bit on her chances of reaching sixty.
"I see," Lar said, with a quick glance at Emmis. "Let us suppose, though, that we were to apprentice him to a less cautious warlock; what would happen if his master was Called before he turned fifteen?"
"Oh, another warlock would take him on to complete his training. It's happened, I won't deny it. But I'm safe enough."
"And if he made journeyman, and then came home to Semma, he would be less… I don't know the Ethsharitic. The danger would be less?"
"A little, yes. And his magic would be weaker, as well, though it would strengthen with use."
"Would it?"
"Oh, yes. The more magic a warlock uses, the more power he has available. It's very tempting – but yielding to temptation means the Calling, so we resist."
"Your magic – what does it do, exactly?"
"Oh, at the most basic level, warlockry is just the ability to move things without touching them. But it can be used in thousands of ways, because we also have the additional senses to let us perceive what things really are. Everything around us is made up of smaller things, of tiny particles, and we warlocks can sense where they all are, and we can see how to move some of those particles and not others. We can create heat by moving anything, even the air, against itself; we can make light by… by pushing the air inward; we don't really have the words to explain it. I can heal wounds by making the edges flow and grow back together; I can repair broken things by making the space between the pieces go away. I can cure some diseases by killing the tiny little creatures in the blood that cause them, or by drawing out poisons. But really, it's all just seeing what's there and moving it into the places and shapes I want it in."
"You can teach my grandson how to do this?"
"I can change something in his head so that he will be able to do it, yes. That only takes a moment, and then, once he can hear the power and draw upon it, I will train him to use it safely and effectively. That training will last the three years of his apprenticeship."
"And after that, he can come home to Semma?"
"Or he can stay here in Ethshar, as he pleases, yes."
"There's no reason he couldn't come home? The Council of Warlocks wouldn't object?"
"They wouldn't object. Why should they?"
"I don't know. It just seems odd that there are no warlocks in Semma."
Ishta turned up an empty palm. "It just happened that way."
"I see." Lar pushed his chair back and rose; Emmis hastily followed suit. "Thank you," Lar said, bowing.
"You're quite welcome. Will your grandson be coming to see me, then?"
"We'll need to discuss it amongst the family."
"Of course." Ishta got to her feet as well.
"Thank you again. We'll be going."
"Of course," she repeated.
A moment later Lar and Emmis were out on the street, marching back toward Arena Street. Emmis looked around, but Hagai was nowhere to be seen.
He probably got bored, Emmis thought. He had no way of knowing how long they might be in the warlock's shop.
"I think I'd like to talk to a wizard next," Lar said.
"I thought we'd be going home," Emmis said.
"Wizard first," Lar said.
Emmis looked back to see Ishta's door close, and a moment later her window went dark.
He sighed. "Wizard Street is that way," he said, pointing.
Chapter Eight
"We've passed a dozen open shops," Emmis said. "Was there something specific you're looking for?"
"Yes," Lar said. "I want a wizard who answers questions."
"You mean a seer?"
"Something like that, yes."
Emmis looked up at the signboards above the doors ahead. "TARISSA the FAIR," read the nearest, "Love Spells amp; Potions, Aphrodisiacs." The next announced, "KARDIG of SOUTHGATE, Curses Cast amp; Removed." He had to admit neither of those sounded very promising.
They were walking east on Wizard Street. It was late enough now that most of the shops were dark, the signboards unlit. "Perhaps we should come back in the morning," Emmis suggested.
Lar shook his head. "Tonight," he said.
"Why? Why is it that important? You said you could take as long as you needed for whatever it is you're doing."
"Yes, but tomorrow someone may be following us again."
Emmis blinked. "What?"
"That Lumethan is gone – hadn't you noticed?"
"Well, yes," Emmis admitted.
"You told them I was interested in warlocks, and I wasn't talking about anything very secret with Ishta in any case, so I didn't mind him following us there. He's welcome to anything he can learn from her. What I want to ask a wizard is a little different, and I don't want the Lumethans to know about it, so when we left Ishta's shop and I saw that he was gone, I knew I want to talk to a wizard tonight, before the Lumethans come back. They won't expect me to visit two different magicians about two different things in the same night – that's why he didn't stay, I'm sure. He probably went to tell the others that they should talk to Ishta tomorrow."
"Why didn't he stay to talk to her tonight, then?" Emmis asked. "I know she put out the lamp, but he left before that. He didn't wait around to talk to her after we left."
"Because he doesn't speak Ethsharitic, remember?"
"Unless he does."
"Even if he does, he probably wants to… I don't know the Ethsharitic word. Shichak. He wants to talk to the others before he does anything."
"Confer?"