Rick Cook - The Wizardry Quested

One side of Wiz’s mouth twitched up in what might have passed for a smile. "Some technical problems here."

"I Know," Moira said sadly. "I’m afraid the bedroom is a mess. When I got back my first thought was to throw myself on the bed and cry. But the bed was not made to support this body’s weight and I am afraid we shall both nave to sleep on the floor tonight."

"That’s all right."

Moira twisted around to look at him. "Do you know dragons cannot cry? No matter how sad they are, or how miserable or how frightened, they cannot cry." Wiz felt the tears flowing down his own cheeks. "I guess:" He took a deep breath. "I guess I’ll have to do the crying for both of us."

Then his head came up. "I swear I’ll get you back. I don’t care who’s behind it, I’ll get you back and make them pay!"

"I know you will, love," Moira said simply and snuggled her head into his lap. Wiz wasn’t sure how much either of them was lying for the other’s benefit. The late-rising winter sun was just a dull glow through the fog and low-hanging clouds, but already the programmers’ workroom was full. Jerry was still in a coma, but Danny was hard at work at his desk. June was sitting in the corner with Ian more or less asleep in her lap. Malkin was in another corner, very ostentatiously touching up the edges of a double-edged dagger with a bit of fine-grained stone. Beside her lay a swordbelt with a cup-hiked rapier. Moira was off attending to what she delicately referred to as "dragon business."

"Anything?" Wiz asked as he strode into the room.

Danny didn’t take his eyes off the screens. "Not much. Mostly it just confirms what we knew last night. I’ve got a little more on how this spell works, but boy is it peculiar. I wish Jerry was here, this is more his kind of thing." He turned to face his friend. "Do you want to take a crack at it?"

"Not right now. I’ve got some other stuff to do."

Malkin tested the dagger’s edge against her thumbnail, paring off a nearly transparent scraping. "Like what?"

"Like a little scouting expedition. The one thing we do know is that the Enemy seems to be headquartered at the City of Night. The other thing we know is we need to know a lot more about him. So I intend to go poking around and see what I find."

"What you are likely to find, Sparrow, is more trouble than you can handle." Wiz turned and saw Bal-Simba standing in the doorway. "This enemy is dangerous enough on our ground," he continued as he came into the room. "He is likely to be far more dangerous on ground he has made his own."

The big wizard settled into his over-sized chair. "I met Moira in the corridor," he said by way of explanation.

"She said she believed you had formed a plan last night and begged me to discover it."

"It’s kinda hard to get any sleep when you’re sharing a small bedroom with a dragon," Wiz said.

"And it is not wise to plan great matters when you are fatigued," Bal-Simba responded. ’This idea of yours does not seem to have much to recommend it"

"Relax. I’m not going to take this character on alone. All I’m going to do is get the lay of the land so we’ll have a better idea what we’re dealing with." Bal-Simba raised an eyebrow and said nothing.

"Look, you said it yourself. The Council won’t move until we know more. We’re likely to find out more by scouting this guy than sitting around here. I’ve been in those tunnels more than anyone else. Once when I rescued Moira from the Dark League, then when I was kidnapped back there and then when we went back to lay Bale-Zur."

"We didn’t go into the tunnels that time," Danny said. Wiz glared at him.

"Anyway, the point is, I’m the logical one to scout it out because I know that place."

Bal-Simba’s skeptical silence reminded Wiz just how untrue the last bit was. Wiz had seen only a tiny fraction of that giant maze and, being the kind who loses his car in a supermarket parking lot, he couldn’t remember much of anything about the layout.

"At some point we’re going to have to scout, and now’s the best time. Besides, we can’t just react. We’ve got to act and information is the only thing that will get the Council off dead center. Besides," he added after a brief pause,

"Moira doesn’t have time to waste."

For a long while Bal-Simba said nothing. Then he sighed. "If I could forbid you I would. But we both know I cannot and giving commands which you cannot enforce is unbecoming of a leader. So go if you must, and we will contrive without you." Malkin stood up and jammed her dagger home in its sheath. "You’ll have to contrive without me as well."

Wiz shook his head. "Sorry, this is a one-man show."

"I have a stake in this," Malkin said, jerking her head back toward the room where Jerry lay. "Besides I’ve got a feeling you’re going to need the best thief you can get."

"Meaning you?" Danny interjected.

Malkin spread her hands, smiled slightly and shrugged.

"Shiara does say she is as good as she herself was in her prime," Bal-Simba put in.

"Shiara’s not giving her enough credit," Wiz said sourly, remembering Malkin’s escapades as his "assistant" in the Dragon Marches.

"So you need me. I’m coming." Then her face softened and her eyes sparkled.

"Besides, it should be a tremendous adventure."

And if it’s not at first, you’ll make sure it is. His previous experience had left him all too familiar with Malkin’s taste for excitement. He looked over at Danny for support but June was beside him, clutching her husband’s arm.

"I’m in this too," he said.

June paled and bit her lip. Then she took Danny’s arm. "And me," she said simply.

"Why doesn’t that surprise me? Why don’t we just take every wizard in the North?"

"You cannot do it alone, Sparrow," Bal-Simba said mildly.

"This is supposed to be a surgical operation. The bigger the team the harder to hide."

Malkin and June just looked at him.

"Okay," Wiz sighed. "We’re four."

"Five, I think," said Bal-Simba, looking over Wiz’s shoulder.

Wiz looked hard at the big wizard "You too?"

"No," came a voice from behind him, "me."

There was a dwarf in the doorway. A rather young dwarf with a large and very gaudy sword slung over his shoulder.

Wiz wasn’t good at telling dwarves apart, but in all the World there was only one sword decorated in such hideously bad taste.

"Glandurg?"

"I told you once, Wizard, the day would come when you would need doughty fighters. I promised you then-that on that day I would stand with you."

"Uh, thanks," Wiz muttered. He and Glandurg had never been formally introduced. That had something to do with the fact that Glandurg had spent most of their acquaintance trying to kill him. This had been the result of some kind of deal between Glandurg’s uncle, a very minor dwarf king, and a gang of trolls. That had been patched over, but to say that Wiz wasn’t thrilled to see the dwarf again was to put it mildly.

Glandurg reached over his shoulder and patted the gem-encrusted hilt of his weapon. ’The sword Blind Fury has dispatched one of your enemies. Now it shall sing in battle against your new foes."

That was the other thing. Blind Fury was not only decorated in eye-searingly gaudy style, it was enchanted and no one could withstand its blows. But like its present wielder the spell was seriously lacking in ept. The sword had indeed slain an enemy programmer-magician by slicing through a suit of heavy power armor like it was soggy toilet paper. However, the blow had been aimed at Wiz, and Craig, the programmer, had the misfortune to be standing next to him. Wiz cast a look of mute appeal at Bal-Simba. The big wizard simply spread his hands. "If you will excuse me, Sparrow, I have other matters to attend to." With that he rose and left.