Magic Casement (49 page)

“No!
No!” Rap howled, struggling to keep his face turned, his eyes closed. “Shut
the window! “

“Good
show!” Little Chicken insisted, squealing with joy. “It is Raven Totem!
There my brothers! Watch what I do now!” Rap forced his eyes open
momentarily and then shut them tight again quickly. The victim did look like
him, and not very much older than the face he had glimpsed in Hononin’s
kitchen mirror. And yet, there had been something wrong! He sneaked another
quick glance and again had to shut his eyes hastily to prevent a fit of nausea.
It was his face, but somehow blurred-fuzzy? Little Chicken sniggered wildly at
some new horror and the goblin spectators burst into applause again.

Then,
mercifully, the light faded against Rap’s eyelids, the excited babble of
the crowd died away, and he felt the icy touch of the polar night and the cool
caress of snow on his face. He relaxed and opened his eyes.

A
thump on the back from Little Chicken almost laid him on the floor. “I
told true! “ he sniggered. “I kill you! We make good show. “

“Neither
dragon nor Kalkor?” Sargon said acidly. “You are indeed a hard
young man to kill. Perhaps that is all the message we are going to get-you will
survive the imps, so why worry? “

“More
likely it’s telling us that I’m as good as dead already!” Rap
cried, and was ashamed at the shrillness of his voice. “Or that the imps
may give me a better death than anything else in my future. “

“In
either case it would just show the imps killing you, I think,” the old
man remarked calmly.

Inos
put an arm around Rap and led him away from the window.

He
might survive jotunn or dragon, Rap thought, but he would not want to survive
goblin. The victim in that last scene had already been horribly mutilated.

“Was
it me?” he whispered, trying to control his trembling. “I thought
it looked strange-blurred, somehow. “ Say it was not me! Small wonder
that Inos’ great-grandfather had gone mad.

Sagorn
hesitated. “Yes,” he muttered. “I noticed that. I thought it
was just the smoke stinging my eyes, but your friend here seemed sharp
enough... So we have seen you three times. The first two glimpses were
ambiguous and the third time was suspiciously unreal. I wish I knew more about
these things! It is all so insubstantial! What we need is a sorcerer to explain
them.”

Crash!
The door shuddered. The imps had arrived. Only one bolt now lay between Rap and
their vengeance.

Inos
hugged him more tightly. “But you will be my champion,” she said.

That
was a nice thought, but for the rest of his life he would know that his
eventual fate was to return to Raven Totem and the loving care of Little Chicken-while
not looking very much older than he did now.

He
wondered what would happen if he killed Little Chicken first. He had put down
the sword somewhere, but now he wished he had it handy. Would it be possible to
make a liar out of the casement? Was that why Bright Water had warned him not
to harm the goblin? Had she foreseen Little Chicken being hurt by Rap?

Again
the ax crashed against the door. Not long now.

“We
might as well let them in!” Rap said wearily. “I think I agree with
the casement that a quick hanging might be all for the best. “

“No!
“ Inos shouted. “Doctor Sagorn, a sorcerer could beat a dragon,
couldn’t he? And Kalkor? That’s what it means! That is the
message-we must share our words of power with Rap! He can’t share with
us, but if we make him a sorcerer-a mage-then he will save you from the dragon
one day, and beat Kalkor as my champion! Don’t you see? That is the only
way he can survive the dangers we have seen in store for him, and he must
survive two of them--I mean at least two, Rap, of course. And that fuzziness
you saw-he was using magic against the goblins, too!”

Rap
groaned. Not a sorcerer! Farsight was bad enough. The imps would be better than
that.

“Darad-”
Sagorn said, and paused. “I am too old to risk weakening my power, child.
My health... You must share yours with me, also.”

“Yes!”
Inos said. “You and I share, and then share with Rap. We’ll each
have two, and he’ll have three.”

Rap
groaned.

“Why
not?” She stamped her foot with rage and dug her fingernails into Rap’s
arm.

He
was finding it very hard to think straight with Inos holding him like this. “Inos,”
he said hoarsely, “I don’t want to be a sorcerer, even a mage.
Sagorn is saying you must tell him first. Then he becomes an adept, right? He
might call Darad to kill you to become a stronger adept! I don’t think
you should trust him, not that much.”

The
old man flushed angrily. Inos released Rap with a sob. “The God promised
me a happy ending. Carried off captive by imps? Breeding sons for Kalkor? And
you’re going to be thrown in the dungeons at the least, you dummy! I
think that stupid casement is too old! It wasn’t working right! “

The
door shuddered and splintered. It had lasted longer than the others, so perhaps
it held some residual magic. Rap could farsee the burly imp wielding the ax,
the heads and shoulders of others behind him, lower on the stairs, seeming cut
off at floor level.

“Listen!
“ Inos said firmly. “I will tell Doctor Sagorn my word, and then he
will tell both of them to Rap. You won’t be in danger then, Doctor, will
you? I will trust you, as Father said I should.”

The
old man shrugged. “Your plan makes sense, Majesty. I can think of none
better. We have indeed been instructed to share our words with Master Rap. You
will just have to reconcile yourself to becoming a mage, young man! Obviously
that is what the casement was telling us to do. “

Rap
groaned again.

Crash!
Splinters flew. That blow had come right through the planks.

Inos
clasped his hand. “Rap? Please?”

Please?
He was making his queen beg? What sort of loyalty was that, to refuse the very
first command she gave him? Rap squared his shoulders.

“Of
course, your Majesty!” Then he sensed the spasm of hurt that crossed her
face. That wasn’t right, either! “I’ll be proud to be your
court magician, Inos-if I can be master-of-horse sometimes?”

He
tried to smile and discovered that he had forgotten how to. Inos took his hand.
“Thank you, Rap.”

“And
you know that if I knew a word of power, I would tell it to you gladly?”

Sorcerer?
Prying into people’s minds as well as their clothes and houses?
Manipulating people, like Andor? Killing them off when they got in the way,
like Darad? Hateful! Hateful!

“Perhaps
we should pray?” princess Kadolan said quietly. “When the God
appeared to Inos--”

Inos
started to say something, then glanced at the door as a whole plank shattered,
hurling more splinters across the floor. Rap sensed the big imp outside
lowering his ax, and the others surging up close behind him with swords drawn.

But
he had seen the splinters, seen them with his eyes. The door was brightly
lighted. So was the floor, with five shadows stretched out across it.

No!
Six shadows!

Fleabag
yawned and lay down. He had a shadow, also-seven! Simultaneously they all swung
around to see. Light was streaming in the still-open casement from a strange,
many-colored mist that glowed outside. The extra shadow came from a woman
standing before it, inside the chamber.

Disaster!
Idiot! With his stupid pig-headed refusal to obey his monarch, Rap had delayed
too long. He had been warned that sorcerers could sense occult power being
used, and here was a sorceress come to investigate.

The
magic casement had given the answer, the solution to all their problems, and he
had mulishly thrown it all away.

Now
anything could happen.

“Well,
well, well!” said the newcomer. “What have we here?” Rap
grabbed Inos’ hand and spun around, heading for the door-and his boots
froze to the floor. He windmilled his free arm wildly to regain his balance. He
tried to pull his feet out of his boots, but they would no come loose either-he
was rooted. The others had all reacted in the same way and they were all
similarly immobilized, cemented to their own shadows. Meanwhile, a brawny arm
reached through the hole in the door and fumbled for the bolt.

Rap
twisted around awkwardly to watch the woman plodding forward to inspect her
captives. A sorceress! Dumpy and wide, she walked with a heavy-footed gait. She
was swathed all over in some soft fabric of pure white, even more hidden than a
goblin woman, for a veil concealed all of her face below her eyes. She was much
too large to be Bright Water, witch of the north.

The
rest of the Four were men, warlocks, so this was someone new, someone
unexpected.

“A
magic casement left open?” she said. “No bug screen? Someone has
been very careless!” She was speaking impish, but with a strange, harsh
accent.

Then
she seemed to notice the legionary’s hand, still struggling with the bolt
at a difficult angle. She made a small gesture, and the imp froze. So did all
those behind him, so far as Rap’s farsight would reach-completely
petrified. Struggling to comprehend the sheer size of this latest disaster, he
registered vaguely that the newcomer had just used magic on Imperial troops.
Was that good or bad for Inos? Would the warlocks now descend in fury on
Krasnegar?

Yells
of alarm came drifting up the stairwell as the soldiers farther down discovered
what had happened to their leaders. The woman stopped in front of Inos’s
aunt, hands on hips and feet spread, in a stance more like an angry fishwife
than whatever Rap would have expected of a sorceress.

“Let’s
start with you, dearie,” she said. “Who’re you?”

The
princess’s pearly gown was bedraggled and tea-stained, her white hair
mussed, but she drew herself up as tall as she could-which wasn’t
very-and said haughtily, “I am Princess Kadolan of Krasnegar. And you?”

The
sorceress’s eyebrows vanished up into her headcloth, and Rap sensed
amusement. “Well! I’m Rasha aq’Inim, Sultana of Arakkaran.”

“Oh!”
The princess thawed at once and smiled. “How nice that you can join us,
your Majesty!”

A
sultana was a Majesty?

The
self-styled queen laughed coarsely. “My pleasure entirely. Do excuse me
just dropping in like this, without formal invitation and all.”

“I
only wish we could offer you proper hospitality. “

“Oh,
I quite understand! You’ll excuse me a moment?”

She
pulled off her head covering to reveal hair of a dark-red hue, its magnificent
gleaming waves cunningly held by combs of silver and mother-of-pearl. Her gown
was of much lighter, sheerer material than Rap had realized, and it sparkled
with many jewels. How had he failed to notice those earlier?

This
astonishing sultana glanced coyly around the great circular chamber, dirty and
cold and lighted only by an opalescent glow from the magic casement, and then
she dropped her veil. She was much younger than Rap had realized, and of no
race that he had ever met. Her skin, like her glorious hair, was a deep ruddy
shade, her nose high-prowed and arrogant. She was not conventionally beautiful,
perhaps, and past her first youth, but a magnificent, statuesque woman, with an
air of power, and mystery, and, yes!-beauty! Certainly beauty-a stunning woman!

Princess
Kadolan said, “Oh! “ again, faintly, and then rallied. “I am
sorry to say that you find us in rather a state of confusion, your Majesty.”

Sultana
Rasha glanced at the petrified arm protruding through the door. “I
noticed. The lower orders can be tiresome at times, can they not?”

“Indeed
they can. May I present my niece, Pri-Queen Inosolan? “

The
sorceress glanced across at Inos and seemed to disapprove. Rap, at her side,
tried to maintain a stern, warning expression, as if he were truly a protector,
but he was struggling against a craven yearning to smile at the beguiling young
Rasha.

“We
are honored, your Majesty,” Inos said frostily.

Queen
Rasha’s dark eyes narrowed. “So you should be. I do not recall a
Queen Inosolan? Krasnegar? Goblin country?” Princess Kadolan said, “My
niece has just lost her father, King Holindarn. Today? I suppose it’s
tomorrow now just yesterday. “ The sorceress sneered at Inos. “And
you inherited a magic casement, so the first thing you wanted to do was to play
with it?”

“I
was desperate! “ Inos shouted. “Imperial troops have seized my
kingdom, the people are on the brink of civil war, and Kalkor is going to
invade as soon as the ice goes!”

Sultana
Rasha’s exquisite eyebrows rose again. “Kalkor?”

“The
Thane of Gark.”

“Oh,
yes, I have heard of him.” Now she was certainly intrigued. “And
what is the imperor’s interest in a flyspeck fiefdom like Krasnegar? That
doesn’t sound like Emshandar. His new marshal, perhaps? He seeks to
provoke the jotnar?”

“I
don’t think the imperor even knows his troops are here. The proconsul in
Pondague made a deal-”

Inos
stopped abruptly. Rap wondered why; he was having great trouble keeping his
mind on the conversation. The sorceress was taking up far too much of his
attention-the diamonds twinkling below her gorgeous earlobes, the smooth
perfection of her arm. Funny how at first he’d mistakenly thought her
arms were draped in sleeves! The effort of not using his farsight on her was
making his head throb, and yet he hardly needed it, for her hot, ruddyhued skin
seemed to glow through the gauzy stuff of her draperies.

Rasha
strolled toward him, but her attention was on Inos. “A deal? Don’t
lie to me, girl. I can read your mind if I wish, or cast a truth spell on you.
I prefer not to-it takes all the fun out of things. What sort of deal?”

For
a moment Inos and Rasha stood eye to eye in silent challenge. They were about
the same height, the same age-but how had Rap ever believed that Inos was
beautiful? How plain and dull she seemed, compared to the other girl’s
radiance! How weary and bedraggled! Her grip on Rap’s hand grew very
tight, then she dropped her gaze.