“My father got a telephone phone call from a dark-haired girl none of us knew,” Lucas growled, “saying that ‘something rather striking’ was about to happen in the cathedral city, and that if we considered that spectacular we should wait until the bishop died! I headed for the city at once, of course, but when I got there I found the gorgos had already been seen-and you had just arrived. And you wonder why I decided to wait you out?”
So the renegade wizard I couldn’t find had actually sent the royal court of Caelrhon a warning two months ago, boasting obliquely of his gorgos? He must have persuaded one of the Romney girls to telephone for him; no wonder the band had left town in a hurry!
“Sengrim wanting revenge on me I could have understood,” continued Lucas grimly, “for dismissing him after years as Caelrhon’s royal wizard. But when magical dangers persisted even after he blew himself up, I realized that more of you school wizards must be involved in a conspiracy of vengeance. But the gorgos on the cathedral and you, Wizard, in the city made it clear that I wasn’t the only target for wizardly revenge. The goal was the destruction of both the cathedral and the kingdom of Caelrhon.”
“I’ve never plotted against anybody in my entire life,” said Paul calmly. “And our wizard certainly wasn’t in Caelrhon at our orders; we’d been wondering all summer when he’d come home.”
One piece at a time. The wind whispered through the branches of a tree behind me. I found myself reluctantly admiring Lucas’s courage. He had stayed in the city for weeks, convinced there was a wizard there seeking his own death but still determined to defend his kingdom and the church. Little wonder he had been so surly with me, both in Caelrhon and on this trip, if he thought I was that wizard! And his rapid looks around at the end of the bishop’s funeral, which I had found so suspicious at the time, came from the threat of ‘something spectacular’-a threat Lucas could not tell to either Paul or me since he thought we were behind it.
“You’re right, Prince,” I said, “that there has been a renegade wizard in Caelrhon. The only flaw in your logic has been thinking it was me.” That and persuading himself that if wizards were eliminated, aristocrats could become glorious heroes out of legend, but I wasn’t about to tell Lucas that. “This wizard’s real goal is the destruction of the Church,” I continued. “The gorgos’s attack on the cathedral was intended as a direct insult to the memory of the old bishop.” Joachim, I thought, should hear me now-or, for that matter, Zahlfast.
But I kept on coming back to the unanswered question of who this renegade might be. Any wizard could have asked Vor about a gorgos, but it would have taken enormously powerful magic to call one from this northern land to Caelrhon and then to imprison it somewhere for weeks, much less elude all my efforts to find him.
I even wondered briefly if Elerius, who had graduated far ahead of good old Book-Leech with half the effort, might have been involved. Elerius’s magic would certainly be stronger than mine, and Zahlfast would respect his judgment. My old teacher’s sudden and irrational conviction that priests were working to destroy wizards made much more sense if he had been told this by someone he trusted, someone who, on the contrary, was seeking to destroy priests. But a wizard with a post at one of the most powerful western kingdoms would not become involved in the affairs of Yurt or Caelrhon. And, I reminded myself, a remarkable number of young wizards had graduated ahead of me.
“There are plots within plots here,” said Vor to Lucas. Unlike me, he seemed full of theories. “Someone, probably even starting while your wizard was alive, arranged an elaborate masquerade to persuade you and your father to turn against wizardry.” His eyes gleamed in the forest shadows. “Who would most like to see you helpless, with no wizard to come to your defense? Isn’t it most likely to be Prince Vincent, your own younger brother?”
Lucas gave a start but did not answer immediately-he had considered this explanation. But this was terrible! Had Vincent contracted a nefarious plot to ensure that he, and not his brother, became king of Caelrhon? And only one man stood between Vincent and the crown of Yurt, once he was married to the queen the very day after Paul’s coronation: Paul himself.
“What are you implying about my brother?” roared Lucas to Vor, finding his voice at last and, I thought, roaring even louder to cover up his hesitation. He might have plenty of suspicions of his own about Vincent, but he was not going to let anyone else voice them.
I ignored him, having for the moment an even more important concern. “Paul,” I said, “I want you to promise me not to ride your stallion anymore.”
“Not ride Bonfire?!”
“Vincent gave him to you. He’s a trap. He’s planning to use that horse somehow to kill you.”
Paul regarded me stiffly. “I can decide for myself what horses to ride, Wizard.”
I didn’t have a chance to answer. Lucas pushed himself up onto his one good foot. His hand on his sword hilt, he hopped and shouldered his way between the two of us, making for Vor.
But before he could test whether the sword was faster than the spell, Paul leaped up. “Stop it! All of you, stop accusing each other for one minute!” A stray ray of sunshine had worked its way down through the leaves and glinted on his hair. “We’ve all been working against each other,” he announced, “and we’ve all got to stop! No more accusations, no more lies, no more attempts to overpower each other. We need each other’s help, not just to get away from the nixie but to save your kingdom, Lucas.”
I watched him admiringly. I did hope we made it home to Yurt alive, because he would be a superb king.
“So you, Wizard,” Paul continued, turning on me, “have got to stop acting as though only you were wise and knowledgeable.” I opened my mouth and closed it again. “Vor, you’ve got to think less of your revenge and more of the welfare of the city where you now live and work. And Lucas, you have to admit that you’ve been deceived.”
It took Lucas about ten seconds to make up his mind. But then he took a deep breath and said, “All right. I agree we’re going to have to work together. But first I want some reassurance, real reassurance, that you are not plotting to reunite Yurt and Caelrhon with yourself as king.”
There was a tinkling laugh behind us. All of us froze, then turned slowly. The nixie stood surrounded by her glittering stars. She was even more alluring than I remembered.
“Come now,” she said with a smile. “You had tried to tell me that you had no energy, but for the last hour you have been quarreling with each other! That seems energetic to me!”
Paul threw himself on his bed, his back toward her. Lucas let himself down more gingerly. “You’re offering us something delicate and enticing, Lady,” said Vor. “We may need just a little more time to let the sour taste of the outer world pass away.”
“If you keep on putting me off,” she said with a coy smile, “I may have to take affairs into my own hands.”
I sat down, not looking at her. Trapped here in the borderlands I was powerless to find the wizard who must be behind it alclass="underline" the magical attacks on Joachim’s cathedral, the vague warnings I had received against priests, Vincent’s abrupt wooing of the queen.
I lifted my head. Vor and the nixie were still exchanging light banter. He seemed to be enjoying their conversation hugely, but he also seemed to have put her off again. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow morning!” she said and slipped away. The dancing stars lingered for a few seconds behind her.
None of us felt like talking when she was gone. After a few minutes, Lucas reached for the apples.
When the silence threatened to last all day, I said, “I guess I’d better start on my spells to get us out of here. I’ll try to work fast.”
I went to the edge of the grove and sat down, my back against a tree, and started probing the magical structure of the invisible barrier. Paul followed me. He pressed his face against the barrier as against a window, looking for the horses. I had closed my eyes but opened them when I heard a sharp whistle. Paul was trying to attract the horses’ attention.