Rick Cook - The Wizardry Quested

Charlie was unfazed "I’m going to taxi right up against the thing," he yelled over the engine noise. "As soon as we get there everyone get the hell out." With that he stood on the rudder pedal and gunned the engine to send them bouncing over the desert at a speed that threatened to ground-loop them at any instant. Off in the distance Gilligan could see columns of dust rising where vehicles left the pavement and raced toward them. He looked sideways at Charlie, but the old man seemed oblivious to the approaching danger.

There!" Jerry yelled in Charlie’s ear, pointing past his head to an utterly unremarkable spot in the desert. Charlie nodded, kicked the pedals to bring them around and gunned the engine for one last burst of speed.

Then he stood on the brakes, chopped the throttles and the Kuznetsov radial died in ear-shattering silence.

"Everyone out folks," Charlie called back into the cabin. "Come on. We’re gonna have company in just a couple of minutes."

Gilligan was out of the seat and back into the cabin in a flash. Jerry fumbled with the door until Vasily reached past him and opened it with a practiced twist. Then the dragon, wizard, programmer, pilot and Russians all piled out onto the dusty lake bed.

The desert was chilly, but the glare from the bare soil was disconcertingly bright and the dust kicked up by the prop stung their eyes and skin.

"Is this the place?" Gilligan asked. "If so, do it quick."

Coming over the lake bed were three Blackhawk helicopters painted in green camouflage. Squinting, Gilligan thought he could make out door gunners. Two more columns of dust marked where vehicles were speeding toward them across the desert.

"Stay where you are!" the loudspeaker on the first helicopter blared. "Put your hands up and stay where you are."

"Everyone ready," Bal-Simba boomed.

"My Lord, the circle:" Moira began.

"No time," Bal-Simba said, raising his staff. "Stay close," he roared. The group huddled together at the sound of his voice.

As the F-16s circled and the helicopters flared for a landing, the wizard raised his hands and began to chant.

The security forces, mistaking Bal-Simba’s gesture for surrender, barreled in. They couldn’t hear his voice rising and falling and when the air around the group began to twist and shimmer it looked like heat rising from the desert floor.

As they dropped lower the helicopters kicked up clouds of fine, powdery dust. Even before the wheels touched, the combat-equipped Air Police were jumping from the ships to secure their prisoners.

By the time the dust cleared there was nothing in the desert but a dozen bewildered Air Policemen with M-16s at the ready.

The world twisted, darkened and lightened again, leaving the party dizzy and blinking. Instead of the brilliant desert sunshine there was the softer light streaming through the windows of the Great Hall.

At the eight points of the compass wizards gaped at them. Behind them, a crowd of castle folk gaped too.

There was plenty to gape at. Unfortunately, the summoning spell wasn’t precise without a physical circle to delimit it. Fortunately, the great hall of the Wizards’ Keep was very large. Fortunate because when Bal-Simba looked over his shoulder he saw he had brought Charlie, biplane and all, with them. As the castle folk gaped at the arrivals, most of the newcomers gaped back.

"Boshemoi!" Kuznetzov gasped.

"Holodeck City," Taj said, looking around. "Awesome."

"Son of a bitch," Charlie said softly. "Son of a goddamn bitch."

Mick Gilligan didn’t say anything. He had done this before, after all. Instead he craned his neck, searching for a familiar head of blond hair.

Arianne advanced across the now-useless circle to greet them.

"Merry met, My Lord," she said to Bal-Simba. "Was your quest successful?"

"I believe so, My Lady." He turned and gestured. "This is E.T., the one we sought."

"Stunned," said the Tajmanian Devil.

Arianne dropped a graceful curtsy.

"Charmed, too," he added.

"Forgive me, My Lord, but we were not expecting so many." Arianne was doing her best to ignore the airplane and Bal-Simba’s rather improbable outfit.

"Things became a trifle complicated," the big wizard said dryly.

"Karin?" Mick called into the crowd gathered behind the wizards.

"Mick! Oh, here Mick."

A blond woman in dragon rider’s leather detached herself from the crowd and threw herself into his arms.

"You came back! Oh, you came back."

"Hey, I told you I would, didn’t I?" Mick Gilligan said softly. "Just took a little longer."

"Have the shadows come back?" Bal-Simba asked his assistant.

"Somewhat. But we have better spells to hold them off, thanks to the time you bought us."

"Any word from the others?"

His assistant shook her head.

"Well then." Bal-Simba sighed. "We had best get our new guests settled and then decide how to proceed."

"I will have their quarters prepared immediately," Arianne said, gesturing the seneschal forward. Then she paused.

"My Lord, just one other thing."

"Yes?"

"How are we going to get this," she asked, gesturing at the airplane, "out of the hall?"

Bal-Simba pursed his lips. "That may pose a problem," he said at last. It was a wonderful, glorious morning when Mick Gilligan awoke after a wonderful, glorious night. The sun was well up and the whole world was so perfect Gilligan thought his heart would burst.

He propped himself up on one elbow to admire Karin beside him. She responded by snuggling closer, a wisp of straw-blond hair falling across her lightly freckled cheek. He leaned over and gave her a wake-up loss. A long, fingering wake-up kiss.

"Hmm," said Karin, stirring beneath him and kissing him back. Then her eyes popped open and she broke the clinch.

"Good morning, beautiful."

"What time is it?" she responded. "Oh, I’m sorry Mick." She gave him a quick Kiss. "I’ve got to go look after Stigi. I should have been down to the aerie long ago." She threw the covers back and swung her long legs over the side of the bed, giving Mick a wonderful view of her trim, athletic back.

"Oh," said Mick, deflated in more ways than one. "I’ll wait here for you then." She turned to look at him and the view from that side was even better. "Oh, come along. This won’t take more than a few minutes." She searched briefly on the floor before finding the chemise she had dropped there several hours before. Yeah, " Mick said, " but Stigi doesn’t like me. I think he’s jealous." He didn’t add that the feeling was mutual

Karin pulled on her flying breeches and cinched the buckle. "Pooh. Stigi didn’t dislike you. Besides, I’m sure he’s forgotten all about you. Dragons aren’t very smart, you know."

"You don’t have to be smart to dislike someone and that dragon doesn’t like me."

"Come on, get dressed. I’ll show you how wrong you are."

As he hunted up his clothing strewn about the floor Mick remembered how his ex-wife used to make jokes about being jealous of his F- 15. Mick was beginning to suspect that those jokes had been more pointed than he knew.

Wiz was dreaming of Moira. She was with him again and they were back in their chambers at the Wizards’ Keep, all tangled together in the big bed with the feather comforter. Moira was in his arms and she was kissing him all over. As she covered his body with warm, wet kisses Wiz smiled and groaned in his sleep. He knew it was a dream, but he didn’t want to wake up from it, ever. It was so real, so vivid. He could not only see Moira and feel her moist tongue as it stroked his flesh, even the smells were real.