“If ever thou takes! up a knife in thy hands again, be it even for so innocent a thing as the buttering of bread, the metal of me knife shall find revulsion in my touch, and break again into a thousand splinters. But those splinters will pierce thy eyes and my heart. Go now. Remember I have granted thee mercy this time, but justice will be mine the next time.”
He nodded, he wept, and in agonized fear he thanked the man who had maimed him, groveling away from his feet.
Wizard stood, watching him go. Power swelled in him, pulsing through his veins. This was a better way, so much a better way.
In the instant he had frozen the knife, he had seen the killer’s maggoty little soul. He would take up a knife again; not tonight, or even this month. But when the hunger became too much for him, he would take up the knife and perish by it, even as Wizard had foretold. He had wielded his power fearlessly and permanently. No knife would tolerate his touch.
He felt more man satisfaction as he watched the staggering figure retreat. Exultation. The wheel of his existence had rotated a half turn, carrying Wizard from the bottom to the top.
The magic was back, in such strength as he had never known.
He who had been the prey was the hunter; from being at the mercy of circumstances he had risen to be the controller. He had found his strength and his dreams would fall into his hands.
So heady was this feeling he could not keep the smile from his lips. Suddenly he had it alclass="underline" the magic, Cassie, and the strength to conquer his enemy.
He turned his strength inward, found the lurking gray inside himself, and squeezed it to a thing of infinite smallness. So simple once one knew how and was not afraid. Was this what Cassie had been trying to tell him? Pick up your weapons, indeed! Had even she guessed at the new strength of his magic?
Like a butterfly pumping fluid into his wet wings, he stretched to feel the limits of his power and laughed aloud.
The gasp of a quickly drawn breath recalled him to himself.
A small shame nibbled at the edge of his conscience. So enraptured had he been by his vanquishing of the killer that he had forgotten the victim.
“Come out now,” he called softly to her, peering into the darkness of the alley. “You’re safe now.”
There was no answer. Concern that she had been hurt more than he suspected creased his brow. He stepped quickly back to the place where the killer had crouched over her. “Where are you?” he called again, and spun as she broke cover behind him. He caught a fleeting glimpse of her under the streetlamp as she ran, her torn clothing clutched around her bruised body.
“Wait! I won’t hurt you!” he called after her and started to follow, only to stumble over leather straps. He nearly fell.
Reaching down, he untangled her shoulder bag from about his stockinged feet. Her purse, torn from her grip by her attacker and forgotten in her panic. He heard the jingle of keys, felt the lump of wallet inside it. She’d need it. He tucked it under his arm and ran after her.
By the time he reached the mouth of the alley and looked around, she had already turned a corner and was out of sight.
He stood still, perplexed, flinching at the thought of her fleeing through the dark streets with no way to get home, not even a quarter for the phone. Who else might target her as a victim?
Then he chuckled at his own foolishness. Could he forget so soon? He reached after her. There. The scent of her fear was as distinctive as perfume in the cold air. He ran lightly after her, his robe and cloak rippling soundlessly behind him.
Terror had spurred her, and she had fled like a rabbit, turning as corners presented themselves to throw off her pursuer. Wizard felt a touch of pity for her- She couldn’t know as yet that he meant her no harm. Yet her pathetic efforts to elude him had a touch of humor he could not deny. It was like a toddler trying to hide from the night things by putting a pillow over his head. In his night, in his city, no one could evade him. For two blocks she eluded him with the winged feet of fear. He caught full sight of her at last and called to her. “Wait!”
With a smothered shriek, she was off again. He paused and took a breath in exasperation. The damp front of his robe clung to him annoyingly. With an impatient shake of his head, he dried it and chased the chill from his body. He stooped to pull Up his socks, then wished them dried and water repellent. All was as he ordered it. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? He supposed he had grown long accustomed to discomfort and inconvenience. Now, where had the girl gone? He closed his eyes and groped after her. He was getting better at this with every passing instant. He located her easily this time, running through an alley some block and a half distant and weeping as she ran. No need to pursue her. He could now predict, even guide her course. It would be child’s play to cut her off. He lifted his long robe and ran lightly down the sidewalk to his planned interception point, chuckling soundlessly as he ran.
He appeared in the mouth of the alley before her, leaping out silently with outstretched arms to catch her. She screeched in horror, pursued beyond sanity. She stopped so swiftly she fell to her knees. Without trying to rise, she Jerked herself around and scrambled away from him on all fours. The alley was cluttered with garbage cans and dumpsters. An inordinate amount of plain junk was scattered about, as if the contents of a room had been thrown down from above. She scuttled and hid from his eyes but he could see her. He didn’t mean to laugh; she was so scared, when all he meant her was good. But it was too ridiculous a situation; no doubt when she realized she had been fleeing her benefactor she, too. would see the humor.
And he was tired of the pursuit. Poor little fool; best for her if she were captured and it was over.
He waved his hand, and the other end of the alley closed before her. The wall he had called up glowed with a fungus light, and dark shapes coalesced beyond its translucence. She snatched herself back from it, breathing in little moaning pants.
She fell and cowered upon the paving stones, huddled in on herself.
Come here, now,“ he ordered her in a kindly voice.
She only whimpered.
“No harm will come to you if you do as I say. Come to me.
She rolled herself into a tighter ball. He frowned at her stubbornness- He began to pick his way through the junk and clutter, then halted. It would be better for her to come out and face her fears, he decided abruptly. For her own good.
Having been driven himself, he well knew how to drive.
With a gesture he freed a sinuous gray shadow from the wall of light. It oozed toward her like a monstrous slug, elongating itself to surround her and force her to its master. She screamed at its touch and staggered up and forward a step before she collapsed again. Wizard shook his head. She had so little stamina. Was this the woman he had risked his life for? Idly he held his creature in check to see if she would rally. She didn’t.
Very well, then. He would have to go to her. He banished the creature back to the wall and began clambering over junk to the woman. But as he stooped over the cringing woman, he realized his creature had not returned to the wall as he had commanded it. Instead, the wall had come to it. It pushed even closer.
He gasped in recognition.
Mir laughed in acknowledgment and surged forward to join him over their prize.
He wavered then, in a moment as long as his life. Kinship and camaraderie and the electrical excitement of being the conqueror seethed within the wall. Come forward to join Mir and be no longer alone. Nagging doubts would vanish, and he would know, not peace, but headlong decisiveness and life burned to the socket. At last they had found one another. His long exile was over.
Revulsion, sudden as an explosion, rushed over him. He threw his strength against it, every strand of power be had discovered and tested this night. He flung it up before gray Mir in a restraining web and rushed forward to lift the woman with his human hands. She staggered up and leaned against him, unable to stand. He could not bring himself to look into that tortured face. A rush of shame burned him as he pushed her purse into her nerveless hands. She took it, seeming scarcely aware of what she did. Tottering free of him, she pulled ineffectually at her torn clothes, trying with feeble hands to hide her nakedness from the November wind.