Wood Nymph and the Cranky Saint- Wizard of Yurt - 2 (12 page)

Evrard was stil in the ful bow, his arms outstretched. “Wel, greetings, Wizard,” the old wizard said to him grudgingly. “I doubt you’l like Yurt.”

“But I think 111 like Yurt very much,” said Evrard with a cheerful smile, standing up again. “It’s a charming little kingdom.” The old wizard snorted. “Somebody used to the vain pleasures of the City won’t be satisfied with country charm. Tel the duchess I warned her she won’t have her fancy young wizard for very long.”

“Oh, no,” said Evrard seriously. T’m planning to stay with the duchess for years and years.

‘Maybe she’l learn a lesson at last, then.”

Evrard was either working hard to maintain the old wizard’s good temper or else he was too good-natured to take offense easily.

“But as for you, young whippersnapper,” said the old wizard with a glare for me, ‘ I’d like to know what you think you’re playing at! First you came around here casting spels to reveal the supernatural, as though after al this time you thought I might be practicing black magic, and then I find out you’re doing something similar yourself!” I took a deep breath. “What are you talking about?”

“That creature made of sticks,” he said brusquely. “Thought I wouldn’t find out, did you? What happened, somebody made the horned rabbits under your nose and you got so jealous of your position as Royal Wizard of Yurt that you decided you d try something of your own, eh?”

Evrard, I noticed, was wandering off in the direction of the old wizard’s cottage with an air of not hearing our conversation.

“At least you made it with plain magic,” continued my predecessor, almost grudgingly. “Nothing demonic about it, which may be why it was a pretty pathetic excuse for a magic creature.”

“No, I didn’t make it,” I said loftily, stopping myself just in time from saying that Evrard had. 1 know al about it, of course. But how did you find out?” The old wizard glanced in Evrards direction and snorted. But he didn’t say what he seemed to have guessed. “I found it, of course. When you told me there were magical creatures roaming through the kingdom and that you didn’t know what to do about them, I figured there ought to be at least one wizard in Yurt acting responsibly. I spotted the duchess and that giant chasing the horned rabbits—where did she find him, by the way?—so I decided to let them have their fun. I did improve the spels a little, though, to give them more of a chalenge.” He gave a malicious chuckle.

“But you brought the manlike creature back here with you,” I said. Could Evrard’s stick-creature have been what threw him out the door?

“What was left of it,” said the old wizard. “It had dropped most of its sticks by the time it got here.”

Then it was not Evrard’s creature inside the house. That meant—

“So you decided to make a few improvements,” I said with a glare to match his own. I puled my eyebrows down into a frown that I knew would have been more impressive if they had been as shaggy as his.

“When I came here today,” I continued sternly, not giving him a chance to deny it, “I had not expected to find a wizard from whom age and isolation had taken his reason. But now I learn you’ve been giving old bones the form of life! You know only renegade

wizards try to create life. As Royal Wizard, I demand that you dismantle the thing you’re making!”

The old wizard was, for a few seconds, too taken aback to answer. I had never talked to him like this before—or, for that matter, to any older wizard. Then he bent over sharply, making creaking sounds.

For a second I was afraid I had sent him into a fit. But then I realized he was laughing.

“It isn’t funny,” I said, trying to preserve at least some of my dignity.

The old wizard straightened up, wiping spit from his mouth and stil chuckling. “You re certainly amusing, young wizard, trying to act as wise as though you were four times your age and actualy knew some magic, and trying to face me down in my own valey.”

“You have to tel me what you’re doing,’ I said, refusing to be distracted. “I’m responsible for the oversight of any wizardry practiced in this kingdom. It’s horribly complex magic. I would think a wizard of light and air had better things to do with his time than mutter long spels over dead bones.”

The old wizard had started to turn away. Now he shot me a sharp, sideways glance from under his eyebrows. “And what do you know of complex spels and dead bones?” he asked.

“Look,” I said, speaking to the old wizard directly, mind to mind, which I had never dared do before. I probed for magic, as I had down in die valey by the Holy Grove. And here, as there, were magic forces channeled by a powerful spel. “Don’t deny it now!”

I felt rather than heard reluctant assent. But then the wizard turned his own mind toward me and I staggered back, my own spel disintegrating.

Anyone else’s mind is always profoundly strange when met directly, even the mind of a friend. The old wizard’s mind revealed both powers beyond what I had expected, as much as I had always respected his abilities, and a strange twist I could not identify but which terrified me.

Back in my own body, I stared at him. What had I felt there? Was it depravity, insanity, or just the strangeness of the old magicr His eyes held mine for five seconds, then he started to laugh again.

I tried to slow my heartbeat with calm breaths. “So you can’t deny it,” I said, speaking aloud. “You stil haven’t told me why.” Before the old wizard could answer, I heard a thin, sharp squeak. It sounded almost inhuman, but as I spun around I realized it was Evrard.

He had opened the green door of the wizard’s house a crack and was staring within. A second squeak was forced from him as he took a backward step, and the door slowly began to swing open.

The old wizard leaped forward with a cry. He threw his body against the door and threw a powerful binding spel around the entire house. The door slammed shut again.

But not before I had had a glimpse of the creature inside. It was a creature out of nightmare. It was six feet tal and had arms and legs, but other than burning eyes it had no face. The eyes stared at me as though in comprehension. This was no botched student project. It looked as though it might once have been human.

Evrard clung to me, his head twisted to stare at the house. His face had gone dead white under the freckles. The old wizard, nis dirty beard whipping around him, glared at us with eyes of fire. A whirlwind swirled around him and his whole house.

“Get out,” said the old wizard, his voice magicaly amplified to carry over the roar of the wind. “Get out if you value your lives.” Evrard tugged at my shirt in evident agreement.

“But we can’t!” I shouted. “Master, we have to help you!”

“With your weak school spels? Go, and go now!”

I took a step back. The whirlwind seemed to be

diminishing in power. The binding spel, I could tel, held firm.

It might have been my terrified imagination, but the old wizard seemed to be growing, as tal as his house, taler, until his head disappeared among the branches of the oak that leaned over the roof. Staring fascinated, I let Evrard pul me slowly away. Whatever might be beyond the door, the wizard clearly had the powers to deal with it.

Evrard turned and bolted, and I was right behind him. Our normaly placid mares had retreated back up the valey, tangling their reins until forced to stop.

They roled their eyes and bared their teeth as we approached. Evrard, who I had not expected to know much about horses, spoke to them softly and reassuringly, giving them confident shoves on their sweating flanks as he freed the reins.

Behind us, the sound of the whirlwind stopped. I looked back to see a bent, white-haired figure, restored to his normal size, calmly open his green door and disappear within.

I hesitated with one foot in the stirrup. “We have to go back and help him.”

‘ Didn’t you hear him? He doesn’t want our help!” Exasperation mixed with fear in Evrard’s voice. “Don’t try to show off again.” I had not been showing off, but otherwise he was right. He kicked his horse into a rapid trot. I swung into the saddle and hurried to catch him. “How did you know how to calm the horses?” I asked. “Is it some new spel?”

“My father ran a livery stable in the City—didn’t you know?”

After we crossed the bridge—no sign of the lady and her unicorn this time—we had to dismount to lead our horses under the low branches beyond. Evrard’s light blue eyes were stil nearly round. ‘ What was that in the cottage?”

I shook my head. You saw it better than I did.” I

did not say that to me it looked like a dead human body, resurrected by a renegade wizard who had lost control of his own magic, then given living eyes.

“It looked almost human to me,” said Evrard. “You should have warned me the old wizard knew such powerful magic.”

I doubted I would ever know that much magic, even if I lived as long as the old wizard had. “I’d no idea anyone could work spels like that without the aid of the supernatural.” Unexpectedly, Evrard smiled. “After you’d warned me so carefuly not to antagonize him, you certainly seemed to be trying to do so yourself!” I decided I should feel relieved he could stil smile after what he had just seen, but my immediate thought was that he was taking al this far too casualy. “Evrard, I hope you realize you started this. He only decided to try to make that creature after he’d found yours.”

“Come on, Daimbert, don’t start talking like a schoolteacher! I’m sure you wanted to impress your king two years ago, just as I’m trying to impress the duchess.” He was right; I was starting to sound like a schoolteacher. I tried to make my next comment sound like one student giving a friendly warning to another. “Sorry about that. But I should tel you something. The duchess’ father, the old duke, once kept a wizard. Nearly everyone, as far as I can tel, considered him fairly incompetent. Yet it was in this fairly incompetent wizard’s books that I first discovered the spel I think the old wizard is using.”

Evrard shrugged and smiled. “Wel, I can use it, too, even if I can’t make anything that impressive. I bet your predecessor’s never had problems like homs faling off!” Not fifteen minutes ago he had been clinging to me in terror. I was irritated enough with his good humor that I let my mare fal behind, so conversation would be impossible. Wizardry students always played tricks on each other and wizards outside the school normaly did not get along at al, but I had been hoping for better relations with the duchess’ wizard.

As we came out of the woods half an hour later and started up the hil toward the castle, I glanced surreptitiously over the wal into the little cemetery where kings of Yurt and servants—and chaplains and wizards—of Yurt had been buried for generations. But I saw no sign that anyone had been digging among the quiet graves.

IV

We had left the castle early and it was not yet noon. The old wizard and his creature would need to be watched, but they were not the only strange events going on in Yurt these days. If I could first determine what the duchess was doing, I told myself, and why her tal huntsman had appeared now, then I’d be able to focus on my predecessor. Left alone for a few days, he might even become less furious with me. At lunch, I made a point of talking to Nimrod.

Sitting next to him was not the difficulty I had thought it might be for, as we al assembled in the great hal, Dominic announced that he had decided that our places ought to be moved around and he seated himself next to the duchess.

Nimrod hesitated, then came over when I motioned to him. He walked very gracefuly in spite of his height, as if he were holding great strength in check. Sitting down, he no longer towered above me. His long hair was neatly puled back and tied with a leather thong, and he had excelent table manners for someone who had emerged from the woods looking like a wild man.

The clattering of dishes and spoons made a good screen for private conversation. But Nimrod spoke

before I could. “I’m glad I’m having a chance to talk to you properly at last, Wizard. What are those horned rabbits, anyway? I know every natural thing of woods and field, and there are none like these.” He spoke in a low voice. I glanced around the table and decided no one was listening to us. Dominic attentively served the duchess before himself and said something which, from his rather forced smile, was probably meant to be a joke. Knowing Dominic, I doubted it was very funny, but Diana laughed appreciatively.

‘They were made by wizardry, but not mine,” I said. I looked at Nimrod from under my eyebrows, wishing again they were shaggy. “You seemed to know about their existence already when you first appeared in Yurt and I’d like to hear how you knew.”

Nimrod gave me a sharp look; then, unexpectedly, he grinned. The suntanned skin made little wrinkles at the comers of his eyes. “Did you suspect me of commissioning a wizard to create magic rabbits, just so I’d have an excuse to come into the kingdom?

“No,” I said although, in fact, at one point I had. I considered giving him an even sterner look and smiled instead. “You stil haven’t said how you first heard about them.” He hesitated, then said at last, “News of strange creatures travels fast among huntsmen, and I like to go where there’s a chalenge.” This rather cryptic statement raised more questions than it answered. I was about to ask him more when Dominic’s voice, louder than normal, caught both our attentions.

“Perhaps we should have a bal in your honor, gracious lady,” he was saying to the duchess. “I’m sure the king and queen woula have wanted to take advantage of your extended stay in the royal castle to show you some sort of distinction.”

For a second I thought this was meant to be a hint, rather subtle for Dominic, that she had already

outstayed her welcome, but when he smiled again and rested his hand on hers it occurred to me that the royal nephew, in his own way, was trying to flirt with Diana.

I glanced quickly at Nimrod to see how he was taking it. He too was looking at the duchess and seemed thoroughly amused.

For a brief moment, Diana stiffened, but she did not pul her hand away. “That would be delightful,” she said, with what looked like a genuine smile, warmly enough to make up for her hesitation.