Gene Wolfe - The Wizard

Etela said, “Doesn’t Lord Beel know magic, too? That’s what Toug said. If he does ‘n wanted to kill somebody, he’d do it like that.”

Thiazi sat down and stared at Etela, who met his gaze boldly. At length he said, “Would I be a fool to treat a child’s counsel as serious?”

I smiled. “A fourth question, My Lord?”

“Let us make it so.”

Mani cleared his throat, a soft and almost apologetic sound. “You limited yourself to three questions, My Lord Thiazi. Allow me to answer that, and so preserve your honor. Wisdom is wisdom, and doesn’t become foolishness in the mouth of another speaker. A child’s counsel should be heeded if it is wise. But not otherwise.”

“Could not the same be said of a cat’s?”

“It would take a wise man, My Lord Thiazi, to discover foolishness in a cat’s counsel.”

“Just so.” Thiazi bent toward Etela. “My child, we do not know that magic was not employed. It may have been used to render the assassin invisible, for example.”

“I didn’t know that,” Etela said.

“Naturally not. You have a lively intelligence, but little experience of the world, and less learning. You must take both into account.”

“Yes, sir. I mean, My Lord.”

“Would you laugh if I were to tell you that an invisible creature has been seen in this keep?”

“No, sir, I wouldn’t. Only I wouldn’t understand ’cause you just said invisible.”

“Invisibility is never complete,” Thiazi told her, “as every grimoire dealing with topic asserts. Beings rendered invisible by magic are partially or entirely visible under certain circumstances. These circumstances vary with the spell employed. Rain and strong and direct sunlight are perhaps the most common.”

Clearly impressed, Etela said, “Oooh...”

“Invisible entities sometimes cast shadows, more or less distinct, by which their presence may be detected. They also leave footprints in mud or snow, though that does not really represent a loss of invisibility.”

“Invisible cats,” Mani added, “are completely invisible only at night.”

“I did not know that,” Thiazi said, “and am pleased to have learned it. I repeat: would you be surprised to learn that an invisible being has been glimpsed in this keep?”

After a glance at Lynnet, Etela nodded.

“One has been, and the first glimpses followed Lord Beel’s arrival. I would suspect this being of having stabbed our king, were it not that it seems to fracture the cervical vertibrae. For obvious reasons, invisible beings rarely bear arms. When our king was stabbed, five others had their necks broken. The fact has been lost to sight in our distress over the wounding of our king. Yet it remains.”

I snorted. “Is this supposed to implicate Lord Beel? It seems to me it makes him less likely than ever. If the being is his—I don’t think it is—and he wanted to harm King Gilling, wouldn’t he use it? If it isn’t, and it didn’t stab the king, why are we talking about it?”

Mani raised a paw. “Well said. May I add that in my opinion you’ve answered Lord Thiazi’s questions as required?”

Thiazi nodded. “You’ll receive the boon you’ve asked—I’ll do what I can for this slave, although I can’t promise great improvement. What is your final boon?”

I had to think about things then; it was my last chance to turn back. When I looked up, I said, “I love a certain lady. Who she is doesn’t matter, she’s real and I can’t be happy without her. I’ve returned here to Jotunland for her sake, from a far country.”

Thiazi nodded.

“I’ve been told the Sons of Angr never love. If that’s right, why did King Gilling rise from his bed and rush out to his death at the sound of Queen Idnn’s voice?”

“You have been misinformed.” Thiazi’s words might have been the wind moaning through a skull. “We love. Shall I supply the fact which misled your informant?”

I shrugged. “If you please, My Lord.”

“We are never loved.”

“Not even by each other?”

“No. Your final boon?”

“All my life I’ve been aware of—of an emptiness in me, My Lord. There was a time when I acquired a new shield, and my servant, who’s my friend too, suggested that it be painted with a heart.” I hesitated. “I’m called Sir Able of the High Heart, My Lord.”

“I am aware of it.”

“Though I have never known why. My friend suggested that a heart might be painted on that shield. I was very proud of it—of the shield, I mean.” Toug looked away.

“And it came to me that if a heart were painted on it, it would have to be an empty one, thin lines of red dividing, curving upward, and coming together at the bottom. I said no. I felt, you see, that my heart was filled with love for the lady whose love brought me here. Just the same, a heart on my shield would need to be empty, and I knew it. You’ve got a room, a famous room since I heard of it long ago, with Here Abides Lost Love carved in the door. Is that true?”

Slowly Thiazi nodded.

“From what you said, I understand why you’ve got it and why you value it. It can’t be one of these doors—there’s nothing carved on them. Another door in this suite?”

Thiazi said nothing.

“May I, only once and as a great favor, go in? It’s the third boon I ask.”

“You will have to come out again.” Every word seemed weighted with double significance.

“I never thought I could stay there.”

“I will grant you both boons.” For a moment it seemed Thiazi would rise from his seat; he stayed where he was, his face gray, his huge hands grasping the arms of his chair. “But you must do something for me. You must take the slave woman with you. Will you do that?”

“Lynnet? Where’s the door?”

By a slight motion of his head, Thiazi indicated one of the five doors, the narrowest, a door of wood so pale that it looked almost white.

“Through there?” I stood and took Lynnet’s hand. “Come with me, My Lady.”

“Manticores and marigolds.” She rose, and her rising was neither awkward nor graceful, and neither swift no slow.

I said, “She’s sleepwalking.”

Thiazi shook his head. “A terrible rage burns in her.”

I looked at him. “I’m still a kid—a boy still—in a lot of things.”

“We envy your good fortune.”

“Is she really angry? At this moment?”

Etela said, “Mama never gets mad.”

“I would not advise you to look into her eyes.”

Toug cleared his throat. “I told you a little about the battle, Sir Able. She was—was fighting then. With the whip that came with the wagon we bought. I guess I didn’t say the Frost Giants were scared of her, but they were. She was blinding giants with it.”

I said, “I didn’t know that.”

“I know I didn’t say I was scared of her, too. She was on our side, but I was scared anyhow.”

“Yet you fought on.”

Toug shrugged. “Then Sir Garvaon came with men-at-arms, and they were scared about having to fight, and I could see it. I saw how scared they were, and I thought you tough men, you don’t know half, not even half.”

Thiazi said softly, “Angr was our mother’s name, Sir Able. We are descended from her, all of us. Thus we know something of anger. I tell you that this woman must control hers or destroy everything in her path. She seems a woman of wax to you?”

“Something like that, yes.”

“You will have seen a candle stub thrown into a fire. Remember it.”

“I’ll try. Come, Lady. I’ll open the door for you.”

Thirty steps took us to the door Thiazi had indicated, and although it was narrowest of all, it was wide and high for me; I had to reach over my head to lift the latch. When I touched it, I saw the graceful script of Aelfrice in the pallid wood: