"He fled; he fears me, and with good reason."
She whirled to see a tall, forbiddingly whiskered person, standing in the doorway through which she had entered. He wore a tattered gray robe, the same nondescript color of his hair, whose eyes were the eyes of a madman, wild and staring and very frightening.
"What do you mean?" she asked, chilled by this newcomer's sudden appearance, and by the realization that he had seemed to be reading her thoughts.
"I killed him once, when I first arrived here. And I would have done it again if he had but waited for my entrance."
"Who are you?" she demanded as the man advanced into the dining room. His face was gaunt behind the massive effusion of his beard, and those crazed eyes were sunk into deep sockets, like wells in the face of his skull. From within those caves, his eyes sparked and glittered, fastening on Coryn's face with an almost physical intensity. She had never seen such a tall person, nor one so frightening. His hands twitched with nervous energy, and she saw that he was passing a white, smooth stone back and forth from hand to hand. She remembered the Master's words-the warning that there was an evil being in the Tower-and did not doubt that this was the evil.
He raised a long, slender finger, wagging it toward her. The pearly gem was tucked into the palm of this hand, and she saw that it glowed with a pale, sickly brightness.
"You are the traveler, come seeking sustenance and shelter." His tone was stern, rebuking. "You break in, stealing my food-"
I did not break in! she thought, then immediately did her best to control her thoughts. There was something edgy, unpredictable, about his man, and she did not want to agitate him any more than she had already. He loomed over her, glaring down, and she sensed a coiled violence, an evil barely restrained. "I did not mean any offense," she said calmly.
"And you dare to ask my name? Insolent child! It is I who should be asking for a name, a purpose," he continued. "Who are you?"
For the first time, Coryn noticed a second man, shorter than the first, short-bearded and rotund, looking at her almost apologetically as he slunk into the room behind the first. Remembering the words of the Master, describing one sorcerer who was far more dangerous than his companion, she had no trouble determining which was which. She faced her interrogator with her head held high-it was the only way she could look up into his unsettling eyes-and made her own tone as solemn as she could.
"My name is Coryn Brinefolk. I come from the Icereach, the village of Two Forks. And I did not come seeking shelter- I was invited in. The door opened to admit me."
"I know of thieves who have been hung for less blatant infractions," said the man dourly. He took another step closer, allowed his eyes to sweep over the array of foods on the table. Coryn felt a stab of protective jealousy-it was her food! -but he made no move to reach for a morsel. Instead he looked at her as if she were just another item on the buffet.
The young woman fought her fear. This tall, lanky person menaced her in a way she had never felt before, not even in the midst of Samuval's bandits. A small, cowardly voice in the back of her mind urged her to turn and run, right through the anteroom and out the front door, never looking back.
She clenched her jaw, stifling that voice and stiffening her resolve. It wasn't just for herself that she was going to stay- she could feel an emanation, almost a plea, arising from the walls and the floor around her. She remembered the suffering and pain she had sensed within the Tower, which had been affirmed by the Master. She knew that this man, this interloper, was the enemy of the Tower. She was needed here.
"How did you get here?" asked the second man. "Oh, pardon me," he added hastily. "We don't get many visitors. Any, in point of truth. But our manners, I'm afraid, have lapsed. My name is Luthar, and my master, here, is Kalrakin. Perhaps you would care to finish your meal, before you talk to us?"
The tall man glowered at her-and Luthar-during this pleasant speech. Coryn could see that the one named Kalrakin was the real power, the real danger, here. She would not allow his compatriot to lull her with pretty words.
"I have had enough food, for the time being," she said. She saw Luthar's eyes widen suddenly, surprised; she spun around to see that the entire meal, including all the dishes and utensils, had soundlessly vanished.
"Perhaps you can now trouble yourself to answer our questions," Kalrakin snapped with a bored look. "What are you doing here?"
She drew a breath, deciding that boldness would be her best tactic. "I have come to take the Test of Magic!"
She wasn't sure what to expect from her announcement, but the contortion across the whiskered face of the tall man frightened her deeply-then it made her mad. Before he could speak, she lashed out.
"Who are you to make such a fuss anyway?" she demanded. "I was invited here, and I came!" She felt a growing sense of righteousness, certain that she belonged here as much as or more than this bearded maniac. However, he was powerful-she glanced again at that pearly gem and shivered inside.
As if sensing her wavering, Kalrakin flicked his hand. The floorboards under Coryn's feet rippled. She tumbled to the side, watching from a sitting position as three stout beams twisted and warped, snapping like twigs.
A moment later, she felt a surge of fresh agony, a thrumming of deep pain that washed over her through the floor, the air, the very essence of the Tower.
"Stop it!" she shouted, clenching her fists. Trembling with fury, she jumped up and faced him. Her mind flitted through the few spells that she knew. Somehow, however, she sensed that her feeble magic missiles would prove but sputtering fireworks in the face of this sorcerer's obvious great power.
She instinctively grasped the nature of the conflict in which she had become involved. It was wild magic that tortured the Tower, that had broken apart the floor under her feet-the same she had turned to her own purposes since she was a little girl. But she understood one more very important fact.
Wild magic was blasphemy here.
"I am here to take the Test, and I intend to do just that,' she repeated, keeping her tone level, giving no hint that her knees threatened to turn into water.
"You dare to make such pronouncements?" Kalrakin sneered contemptuously. "You will not take this test-and your very life itself depends on my pleasure. Have a care with your tongue, girl!"
"My lord!" Luthar spoke urgently, immediately drawing the taller man's attention. Kalrakin lowered his hooked beak, which, Coryn saw, extended outward and down over the tangled nest of his bristling mustache.
"What?" he demanded.
"Please, let us confer discreetly." The shorter man stepped backward through the arched entryway, beckoning his companion, who, after another glowering look at Coryn, followed Luthar out of the room.
She let out a long, tremulous sigh, relieved to be alone again, even if it was only for a few minutes. Picking up her chair from where it had toppled onto the floor, she sat down heavily, feeling the trembling of nerves in her limbs as she tried to think what to do.
Coryn's plan had progressed no farther than an admonition to herself: "Be careful!" when the two men returned to the room. This time Kalrakin halted a few steps behind, and it was Luthar who advanced toward her. His round face was beaming, but she glared over his shoulder at the tall sorcerer, unwilling to be softened by charm or blandishments.
"Of course, you shall take the Test," Luthar said graciously. "And please forgive our initial surprise. In fact, you are the first visitor to arrive here since we made this Tower our home. You must understand that we are new to these duties-but of course, as you say, this is the Tower where the Test is given, and naturally this is what you have come here to do."