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Authors: Michael Moorcock

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BOOK: The White Wolf's Son
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“You and I are the only ones who can leave,” said Oona. “We are the only two not under the spell.”

“This Sebastocrater? What’s his game?”

“None, I suspect. He means well, but he’s none too bright,” said Lord Renyard. “It’s my guess that Klosterheim and von Minct
have fed him lies and have almost certainly frightened him into doing some stupid things, including invading the Deep City,
which is protected by so many ancient spells. It could set off catastrophic consequences here. If Klosterheim and von Minct
have convinced him they are helping you against us, that might be the answer to what’s happening. Of course, I don’t know
him well. He and I never socialized, except at ceremonial occasions. He ruled here, and I ruled in the Deep City. Everything
was as it should be. In equilibrium.”

“Why is that equilibrium disrupted?”

“It began some years ago,” said Lord Renyard. “When Manfred von Bek first visited us. He was not the cause of the disruption,
merely an early sign of it. Some serious movement of the Cosmic Balance.”

Prince Lobkowitz answered. “I have known this city and her rulers for many years. I have enjoyed conversations here and never
had cause to suspect the kind of trick which has imprisoned us. My suspicion is that von Minct
and Klosterheim have placed the Sebastocrater under some kind of charm or debt and are using him in their own plans.”

“To find me?” I asked.

“I think you either have something they want, my dear, or access to something they want.”

“The Staff which Mrs. House mentioned.”

Lord Renyard explained how he took me to see the oracle. Could Onric have been the boy Mrs. House was talking about? I gave
up trying to introduce this. Nobody was listening to me. Understandably, they were focused on their own immediate problems.

“Then it’s as we all guessed,” said Oona. “The Grail has disappeared again. What force works to disrupt the Balance over and
over in increasingly close episodes?”

“I believe it is our friend’s dreaming that creates the problems,” said Prince Lobkowitz. “Yet that dream is due to end very
soon, and when it does it could mean oblivion for all.”

“No.” Oona shook her head. “The dream’s merely ending will not bring destruction, of course, but what is in place at the moment
of its ending will decide between continuing life or complete annihilation. He will die to ensure that equilibrium, but without
our help he might die for nothing.”

“And the child”—Prince Lobkowitz glanced at me as if apologizing for speaking of me in the third person— “she carries the
secret?”

“Klosterheim and von Minct evidently believe that. This will be their third attempt, however, to gain control of the Grail.
Twice we have frustrated their plans. This time they hold more power than ever. A certain mademoiselle here plays a significant
role in their machinations.
That is why it is important you get to safety, child.”

“All I want to do is get home.” My response was heartfelt. “But I did promise a boy I’d try to help him. He works in the factory
over the river. He said—”

“I don’t want to be gloomy,” said Oona, “but we could be moving further away from our world, not closer to it.”

Seeing my alarm, she softened. “In terms of the multi-verse, which is vast and infinitely varied, we are not too far away,”
said Oona. “All realities meet in the Middle March. You have no doubt already experienced that.”

I nodded. Then I paused. “Did you say you had plenty of food, Lieutenant Fromental, because if you have, I wonder if it would
be possible—?”

“Of course, my dear. Of course. Bon appetit!” And he flung open the basket with a grand gesture. I saw now that Mum had packed
some of it with my favorite snack foods. I picked out a sausage roll, some salt-and-vinegar crisps, an apple pie and a diet
Dr Pepper, consuming them rather greedily. Almost at once I felt like a new girl!

“Now you and I had better get out of here,” said Oona. “My warriors lack my particular gifts and were caught in the spell
before I understood what was happening. I have to free them. They were loaned to me by one of my oldest friends. I doubt he
would be amused by what I have led them into.”

I looked at the Indians. “What tribe are they?”

“They’re related to the Iroquois,” she said. “They call themselves the Kakatanawa, the People of the Circle.”

“Who’s your friend?”

She smiled widely. “You’d know him as Hiawatha. Do they still teach that poem at school?”

“My granny reads it,” I said, giving her what I thought was a penetrating look.

“No doubt,” said Oona, with a sudden grin. She was my granny, all right! Every instinct told me she was. I gave up trying
to work out the logic of it. That only confused me more. So I stopped.

Again the panther stood regally in front of me. I climbed on her back, and before I could turn and say good-bye to the others,
the big cat leaped forward, raced across the lawn and jumped over the wall, into the wide avenue running beside it.

I jumped down and ran into the shadows. Oona, a foot or two behind, joined me.

“What are we going to do next?” I asked.

“Find Klosterheim and von Minct,” she said. “It’s all we can do, I’m afraid. I’m going to have to use you as bait.”

“What do you mean?”

“The only way to lure them out into the open is to have you return to Raspazian’s and be seen there. Then we have to hope
that Klosterheim or his companion will seek you out. As long as they don’t come with the Sebastocrater’s guards, we might
have a chance.”

“But what will happen if they capture me?”

“I’ll be there to rescue you. It’s all I can promise.”

“Okay,” I agreed doubtfully, thinking the plan sounded pretty desperate. Still, I couldn’t suggest anything better.

“So let’s get back to Raspazian’s,” she said.

The panther had faded into the darkness. Oona seemed to know how to get to the Deep City the quickest way. We were at Raspazian’s
before dawn. The Sebastocrater’s guards were no longer to be seen. Some of the mobsmen had returned and were hanging around
outside the tavern,
though they had lost much of their old spirit. Kushy appeared from the basement. He had another bloody bruise on his forehead
and was hatless. His clothes were even more torn. But his gap-toothed smile widened as he recognized me.

“’Arry ‘Awk be praised! You’re in one piece! And free! We thought the watch had you, missy. They only left a few hours gone.
You’ll have to be careful ‘cause they could easily come back anytime. It’s you they’re after and no mistake, missy. You didn’t
find Lord Renyard, then?”

“I found him. He’s the Sebastocrater’s prisoner in the grounds of his palace. Unharmed but incapacitated.”

“Kept there by sorcery,” added Oona.

“That’s it, then, ma’am,” said Kushy. “Sorcery’s the only thing that could keep the master imprisoned. The Shallow City has
broken its age-old compact with the Deep City, has it? The capturing of one king by another was always against our rules,
so Lord Renyard told me.”

“They say the times are desperate, Kushy,” I told him.

“They must be, little missy. They must be,” he said bitterly.

“And sorcery’s what’s needed to free him,” said Oona. “Who can help us, Herr Kushy?”

He led us down the steps into Raspazian’s. Inside, the place was crowded with thieves and their doxies. All were heavily armed.
All looked anxious. They gathered around us, wanting our news, horrified to hear that magic was at work. It was rare enough
in Mirenburg. They weren’t so much shocked by the evidence of magic as by the use of it. Magic was unsporting, outside the
accepted traditions. The Sebastocrater played unfairly. They began to speculate among themselves. Why would he do that?
Was he in someone else’s power? Were the Lords of Law and Chaos taking an interest?

At last Oona raised her hand. “I can only say that Klosterheim and von Minct are certainly somehow involved. Does anyone here
know what power exactly they have over the Sebastocrater’s decisions?”

“What do they want?” asked Mrs. Nagel, one of the “diver-divas.”

“Put simply, they want this young lady.”

“What does she have that they seek?”

“I honestly don’t know,” I insisted. “I’m just—I’m just a little girl…” I had never sounded so pathetic to my own ears as
I did then. How lame! I thought.

“Why should we protect you?” someone else wanted to know. “Lord Renyard’s already captive. Ancient agreements have been broken,
and magic’s abroad. Why shouldn’t we give you up to the Sebastocrater’s men?”

I couldn’t answer. I tried but gave up. I felt very guilty, and I was beginning to cry. Oona’s arm around me was a small comfort.

She spoke coolly. “Keep her safe and you can bargain. Give her up and you’ve nothing.”

This calmed them. Sharp-featured Kushy stepped forward. He had found his plumed hat. His expression was grim and set. He spoke
in a low, desperate voice. “We have our honor. We need magic of our own. We’ve no choice now. We must ask Clement Schnooke
to help us.”

I didn’t like the sound of Herr Schnooke. Neither, it seemed, did anyone else.

Oona started to speak but then was interrupted.

“I find such confidence flattering, gentlemen.”

I turned my head towards the door. A round-faced, cheerful little man stood there. His shiny black hair was
slicked down against his skull. His coat was a patchwork of red, gold and green. His brass-buckled shoes were dark green.
His neck cloth was bright yellow. He looked like a clown, but the hiss of the crowd and the way they drew back from him told
me he was disliked and feared by everyone.

Kushy said in a defeated tone, “Mornin’, Clement Schnooke. Talk of the devil, eh, sir?”

“I’ve been telling you for years that your snotty Sebastocrater deserves a spot of sorcery to put him in his place, Kushy.
Now that zoological monstrosity you call a master has failed to save you from the Greek’s soldiery, you turn at last to Clement
Schnooke. Suppose I refuse my services? Have you some other sorcerer who’ll make it his business to represent the interests
of the Deep City the moment he gives his word on the matter?”

“Lord Renyard forbade you to practice magic on pain of banishment,” said one of those furthest from him.

The harlequin whirled to find him, pointing. “Banishment? Just as well I didn’t take my leave when it suited me, eh? What
is it I can do for you? Now, I mean? Now I’m needed. Lord Renyard forbade—what was it? Where is Lord Renyard, by the way?
Ah, you wish me to free your master from some imprisoning spell. So that he’ll return here and punish me for using sorcery?
Doesn’t make sense to me, fellow citizens. I’ll need a suitably generous stipend, I suggest, if I’m to risk releasing your
haughty master. Then I’ll ask for a free hand to use black sorcery against the city. ‘Tis time that the old arts were practiced
here again, and Clement Schnooke given the justice and rewards he deserves!”

Another actor, I thought, whose success on stage had gone to his head. I felt cold and clammy in his sibilant
presence as he preened and pranced defiantly in the faces of those who loathed him. He removed his cap and bowed to me. But
he addressed Oona, the dreamthief’s daughter.

“I’ve heard of you, dreamthief. And I met your mother once. She, too, insulted and demeaned me. You show me no respect. Tell
me why I should show you any!”

“I don’t want your respect,” said Oona evenly. “I want your services. What’s your price?”

He cocked his wicked head to one side. “Price? A soul or two, perhaps?” He smiled his horrible smile again and danced before
us in triumph, wriggling and writhing, pointing his toes and fingers, so that I half expected him to begin shedding his glittering
skin. “But gold’s more useful. I need enough gold to take me out of here and see myself where I belong. Where I came from.”

“Where’s that?” I asked.

His cold, sardonic eyes fell on me. “Where’s
that,
little miss?” he hissed. “Where’s that?”

I looked him back in the face. I knew evil by its eyes, and I knew the extent of its power by the depths of those eyes. “That’s
what I asked.”

He dropped his gaze and sighed. “I was once a prince in Cincinnati. Not the Cincinnati you may know, but a fabulous city,
all slender towers and ziggurats, whose cats can speak in complex tongues, where my success as a sorcerer was acknowledged
and appreciated, where the fair sex were sweet and plentiful. All I need for happiness is in Cincinnati.”

“Why do you need gold to get there?”

“Gold’s what I said I’d seek, and gold’s what will preserve my reputation. I can find my way on the moonbeam
roads but never find my nation. The maps must be bought fresh every six months. And such maps are expensive.”

“What if I put you on your way? The secrets of the silver roads are mine.” Oona stepped towards him.

“I would still need gold.”

“We’ll give you gold,” said Kushy. “And if FräUlein Oona can guide you to your home, will you free our master and his friends?”

“I’ll do my best with my rusty powers,” promised Clement Schnooke. “You all know me and what I’m capable of. For in spite
of Lord Renyard’s repression, half of you have sought me out for potions and spells over the years, and I’ve obliged.”

“At high prices,” declared an old woman.

“Reasonable, sister, given the risks.”

“You’ve killed more than one customer,” accused another. “You’re hated here and you know it. Frau Fröhlich caught the palsy,
and Herr Nipkoch shrieked his life away for days before he died. We know Fröhlich the carpenter failed to pay you to harm
his wife. And then his
nose
turned black and his head dropped off.”

Clement Schnooke smiled and bowed. “I appreciate your endorsements, my friends. They have brought me customers and added to
my small savings.”

“Well,” said Kushy. “We’d be rid of you, so here’s a way we can all be served.”

Schnooke sneered and postured. “Give me a day or so and I’ll have your master free. It will cost you a century in gold.”

“By weight?”

BOOK: The White Wolf's Son
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