Lord Ildirin's coach was there, with Lord Ildirin and several others still in it; a dozen guardsmen were gathered around it. Standing between the coach and the door were a handful of strangers; three of them were wearing elaborate robes and were presumably wizards, while one wore the white and gold garb of a priest, another the red and black attire of a demonologist.
Above, on the eaves, two gargoyles were moving about, staring down at the crowd, though neither appeared threatening.
"That's a lot of magicians," Emmis said.
"And a lot of guards," Lar agreed, glancing at his own nearest escort.
Then the doors swung open and Ithinia appeared, resplendent in a blue and white robe far more ornate than the relatively plain robe Emmis had seen her wear before. "Welcome to you all!" she called, her voice seeming unnaturally loud and clear. "If you will all follow me, please?" She stepped out into the street, closing the door behind her, and led the way around one side of the house and along a narrow passage – a passage open to the sky but too clean to be called an alley, the walls gleaming with fresh yellow paint and the floor paved with brown bricks.
The entire crowd followed her, the guards helping Ildirin and the other passengers out of their coach; Emmis did not wait to see who the old man had brought with him, but hurried after the wizard and found himself surrounded by magicians as he marched through the passage into the wizard's garden.
Lar caught up to him as they emerged onto a pleasant little terrace. "Who are all these people?" the Vondishman asked in Emmis's ear, gesturing at the magicians.
"I have no idea," Emmis replied.
They were clustered in one corner of a tidy little garden, and at first Emmis wondered why the leaders hadn't moved further in, to make more room.
Then he saw the gargoyles.
The things appeared to be carved of ordinary gray stone, except for the fact that they were moving. Each stood about five feet tall – or rather, crouched about five feet tall, as neither stood remotely straight. Both had claws and fangs and wings, but the details were very different from one to the other; one of them had so many fangs, and such large fangs, that it seemed unable to close its mouth at all.
Emmis had seen the gargoyles on the front of the house, and had seen that they were animated, but looking up at such monstrosities from twenty feet below did not have at all the same effect as seeing them six feet away from you on the ground. Their threatening appearance was much more immediate when they were on the same level.
He glanced up at the back of the house, and sure enough, there were empty niches on either corner that were surely where these two normally stayed.
Then Emmis glanced over to see Lord Ildirin hobble around the corner, followed by his guardsmen dragging several others; Emmis turned to stare as he saw who else had been in the nobleman's coach.
Annis, the Ashthasan merchant, was there, with her hands bound behind her. And beside her was Hagai, the Lumethan theurgist, who not only had his hands tied, but who had a gag in his mouth. His hooded robe was open, the hood flung back. Behind them were the other two Lumethans, hands bound, hoods back, mouths gagged. All four had been disarmed, their belt-knives removed.
And behind the four foreigners was an ordinary-looking Ethsharite in a drab brown tunic, with his hands tied and his ankles hobbled; it took Emmis a moment to recognize him as Tithi, Kelder's partner in crime.
"What are they doing here?" Emmis whispered to Lar.
Lar turned up a hand. "I don't know," he said.
"Thank you all for coming!" Ithinia called, as the last of the crowd squeezed into the garden. "I'm sure many of you have questions, but I prefer not to take the time to answer them. I think all will become clear as events progress. I am about to perform a spell called Hallin's Transporting Fissure – some of you are familiar with it, some aren't. I think it will be obvious why it could not be done inside my house, and why I thought it unwise to do it in Lower Street. I will ask you all to follow me; these gargoyles of mine will bring up the rear and make sure we all arrive safely." She gestured toward the two monsters. "I must warn you, do not attempt to turn back, for any reason – the results could be very unfortunate. If you feel it necessary to pause to catch your breath or steady yourself, that should be safe enough, but do not turn back. Is that understood?"
A mumbled chorus of yeses and several nods seemed to satisfy her.
"Good," she said. Then she pulled a wooden flute from her sleeve, held it to her mouth, and began to play.
It was an odd little tune, mostly a pleasant enough melody, but with certain notes that seemed off and out of place, notes that served to transform the cheerful ditty into something strange and uncomfortable. The wizard played through a dozen measures, more or less, and then held the final note.
It grew louder and louder in a way that would not have been possible for any natural sound, adding deeper and deeper undertones, until it seemed as if the earth itself was shaking.
And then the earth really did shake as the garden before Ithinia's feet vibrated, humped up, and split open like an overripe fruit.
"Gods!" someone said.
The opening in the ground widened, becoming a crevice three or four feet wide and fifteen or twenty feet long. Emmis stared in amazement as Ithinia, still holding that impossibly-sustained note, stepped forward into it.
She held the flute in place with one hand, still blowing, while her other beckoned for her guests to follow her as she descended; then she began playing a tune again – not the disconcerting one she had played before, but a sprightly little melody with many trills.
Most of her audience simply watched at first, too surprised or nervous to move, but the other magicians followed her down into the opening in the earth, sinking slowly out of sight as if walking down a flight of stairs.
Then one of the gargoyles spoke, in a voice like stone grinding on stone – and, Emmis asked himself, what else would it sound like? "Go," it said.
That seemed to break the tension and everyone began moving forward, with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Tithi and Annis seemed especially reluctant; the Lumethans, oddly, appeared more resigned than frightened. Emmis found himself somewhere in the middle of the line marching into the rift, with a soldier ahead of him and Lar behind him.
When he reached the opening he was not particularly surprised to see that there really were stairs leading down into the earth, carved from the soil of the garden. Something was wrong with the perspective, though – the stairs seemed to go on forever without ever reaching the far end of the rift. He could see and hear Ithinia far ahead and below, still playing her flute, and then the other wizards, and the theurgist and the demonologist behind them, then Lord Ildirin, and a few guards, spaced along what seemed to be a hundred yards of earthen steps that somehow fit into a twenty-foot trench.
Then he put his foot down on the first step himself, and it felt as if the World twisted beneath his feet; the midday sky was somehow behind him, more than above him. He tried to ignore the disorienting effects of the magic as he marched on down into the earth.
"Oh, gods!" Lar said behind him, as he, too, took that first step. He muttered something more, but it was in a language other than Ethsharitic that Emmis did not understand.
The warning against turning back had been a good idea, Emmis thought as he walked, because there was a wrongness to these stairs that made him want to turn and flee. He wondered whether there was really any danger, or whether Ithinia had said that to ensure that all her desired guests arrived at their destination.
He wasn't about to test it; there wasn't really room to squeeze past Lar and the others to get back out, and it was entirely possible that the Guildmaster had spoken the simple truth when she said it was dangerous.