Robert Hughes - The Wizard in Waiting

Panic seized him. He clenched his fists, bent at the waist, and tried pounding on the dull beast’s spiky skull. The fish gulped again, and Pelmen realized he would soon be swallowed. In a rage born of terror, Pelmen extended his arm and bubbled some words toward the surface. For the briefest of instants, a ball of fire burned underwater! But it doused immediately. What was a power shaper to do?

“I am a power shaper Pelmen encouraged himself, but little encouragement came. “And about to be a drowned one!” As his lungs clenched in a mute scream for air, Pelmen invoked the Power. And the Power aided him.

Heir said the Imperial House with a jolt. Everyone in the castle felt its shock as a slight tremor. A number of wild-eyed servants wandered far from their tasks the afternoon had taken on an apocalyptic character.

A power shaper again! the castle crowed gleefully. A door slammed in the Hall of War, and Lord Joss put the soldiery on alert It’s boiled carp for dinner than, chuckled the Imperial House, and though it burned it put its knowledge to work.

Pelmen had fought the temptation far too long. He prepared to yield to the pressure of the deep. Suddenly, however, they were hurtling for the surface, and in much faster time than Pelmen had managed earlier!

Fish and fool broke the surface together and continued into the air a giant leap into a cavern filled with steam. Pelmen’s legs came free in midair, and he plunged toward the water, rejoicing. His joy turned to screams, however, when he struck with a scalding splash. The water around him frothed and bubbled. Apparently, he was not only going to be eaten he was to be cooked first!

Pelmen’s reaction came purely by intuition. His hands shot into the air and a rush of wind blew in through the grating and tore him bodily from the water. He rode a raging whirlwind through the blackness of the grotto, until good sense convinced him that a light was needed, and a ball of fire burst into existence above his outstretched palm.

His eyes scanned the walls in panic, looking desperately for a cleft or prominence, something he could cling to when the wind died, as he knew it must in a moment. Already it was dropping him toward the boiling water again, and he could only sustain it

There! A hole in the wall. He sailed through it and skidded along the uneven floor, scraping his already raw body. He gasped, exhausted. He had expended tremendous resources in those brief, bleak moments of terror. Now he slept.

Behind him, in the pool, the giant fish continued to leap and struggle in the boiling froth, until at last it was forced to yield up its long life and die.

Someone in the kitchen, passing by the cistern, sniffed twice, then called across the large room to the cook: “I thought we were roasting a pig today! Why is it I keep smelling fish?”

BRONWYNN FOLLOWED AD MON FAVE into the central hall of Tohn’s castle and took a seat beside him. They sat on the dais, as befitted honored guests of the meeting, but not at the head^ table itself. It was reserved for members of the ruling Council alone the foremost merchant of each house, plus the leader of the dominant house in each land. For many years that had meant that the house of Ognadzu had seated two representatives at the head table. Flayh had represented the blue and lime both as chief Elder and as the most influential merchant in Lamath. Tohn mod Neelis had also been seated, for his expertise in Man culture had thrust his house far above all competing houses in Ngandib-Mar. But Tohn was dead now, and though his noninvolvement in the recent Mari-Chaon war had won many new friends for Ognadzu in the Mar, its supremacy was far from unchallenged. There was much consternation, then, when Flayh took his central seat at the ruling table and Pezi, smiling sheepishly, took the seat on Flayh’s right hand that had been Tohn’s. The muttering that swept through the lower level of the hall forecast a stormy meeting, but no one had ever expected it to be peaceful. A major power shift was shaping up, and the fever of politics had infected the host of younger merchants who now attended a conclave for the first time.

Another storm of whispers issued when an obviously youthful merchant in purple and red strode purposefully to the dais and took the seat on Flayh’s left as if he owned it. Flayh had been waiting for a hush to settle on the crowd before starting the session. That hush fell quickly when he turned to address Tahli-Damen sharply:

“What do you think you’re doing? Go to your place!” He pointed a long, bony finger at the rows of tables on the floor, where the lesser members of the families sat by houses, ranked according to their influence.

“This is my place,” Tahli-Damen replied evenly, and those nearest to the dais the older members -gasped at his brazenness. “I am representing the house of Uda in Chaomonous I think it’s no secret which house is dominant in the Golden Land.”

“Nor is it any secret who is the leader of that house!” Flayh snarled.

“That he refused to come is his own business! He’s forfeited his voice thereby, and he knows it!”

“He refused to come because you ordered his assassination!” Tahli-Damen shot back, and all the merchants present roared in shock not because it wasn’t true they all knew that but because the young man had the gall to say it aloud!

“Order!” Flayh shouted. “I command order!” He banged on the oaken table with an empty tankard, and order was quickly restored, as merchants of every age and color leaned forward to hear his response.

He disappointed all of them, for he turned his back on Tahli-Damen, choosing to pretend he wasn’t there, rather than confront the lad before the assembly. He could do that much more effectively in private. “Brother merchants!” he began, his voice carrying with surprising strength for so small a man. “I ^have summoned you to this meeting to consider grave matters that threaten our livelihood! The dragon is dead!”

The response pleased Flayh. The gathering seemed to forget the upstart’s embarrassing intrusion, and turned its attention to the real problem.

“This has already cost us,” Flayh warned. Pezi was surprised at how dignified his uncle sounded. “We are faced with a problem unlike any our fathers faced before us. For a millennium our families have been the feeders of the dragon, and in return we’ve built a style of life unmatched by the noblest of nobles, unmatched even in the courts of the three regents. My friends, our position has been gravely jeopardized by Vicia-Heinox’ death! Lest any of you miss its significance let me hasten to explain. With no dragon in Dragonsgate, trade between the three lands will become utterly, disastrously free. Any ignorant lout who thinks himself a salesman can now take it into his head to transport goods between the three lands. Of course, he could never hope to compete with our volume and experience. But he will soak off some of our profits, and if enough free traders begin to move, our monopoly will unquestionably be broken.”

A hiss swept the hall, and Flayh stretched out his palms to hush the whisperers. “There is more at stake than just our businesses, however.

Our very lives are threatened as well.” Shock greeted this statement.

What Flayh had said so far was generally acknowledged as the truth.

This was a new thought. All eyes riveted on the bald speaker. “We have never attempted to ingratiate ourselves with the populace of any land. We are, therefore, unpopular. But peasants in all three lands have been forced to tolerate us, for we were the only source of the goods and services they needed. The crowns have called us arrogant, but never to our faces. They’ve been aware of our power, and of the fact that our united front could topple them from theirs. But the dragon is dead! What happens now?”