Rick Cook - Wizard’s Bane

At the bottom of a ruined garden someone was playing a flute. The thin, plaintive music caught all the longing and unfulfilled dreams that ever were.

Guided by the bright moonlight, Wiz made his way among the overgrown bushes over the cracked flag path to the sound.

There was a pool there, rank with cattails and dark with lilypads. A broken marble bench lay beside it. On a dark rock overhanging the water sat the flute player, clad only in a pair of rough trousers with long hair down to his shoulders. Wiz listened until he reached the end of his song.

"That was beautiful," Wiz said involuntarily into the silence.

"Did you enjoy it, mortal?" the player asked. As he turned, Wiz realized his mistake.

It was man-sized and man-like, but it was not a man. The face was utterly inhuman with a broad flat nose and huge eyes with no trace of pupil. The hair was a mane, starting low on the forehead and sweeping back to the shoulders. Large pointed ears peeked out of the mane on either side. The trousers were fur, fur that clad the body from the waist to the tiny hoofed feet.

"Uh, yes. I enjoyed it," said Wiz, startled by the creature’s appearance.

"Oh, do not be afraid, mortal. I cannot harm you. I am bound to this well."

"You play beautifully."

"It is the song of heart’s desire." said the creature.

Around the pool, frogs croaked and trilled in crescendo. There must be thousands of them, Wiz thought distractedly, but he could see none of them in the moonlight.

"When Ali Suliman held here… did you know Ali Suliman?" the creature asked. "No? Before your time I fear. A most refined gentleman and a truly great sorcerer. Such a delightful sense of humor. Well, when Ali Suliman had this place things were much different. The palace was ablaze with light and filled with guests. Often Ali Suliman would bring his—special—guests to this pond to hear me play and discourse with me."

The thing sighed gustily and shook its shaggy head. "All is changed, alas. Few mortals come here now and fewer still hear my music."

"I’m sorry," said Wiz, abstractedly.

The being waved its flute in a dismissing gesture.

"The music is not important. It is the desire it represents that matters. The longing, the yearning in the mortal breast." He gazed at Wiz with opalescent eyes. "I can fulfill that desire," it said with utter conviction. "I can give you the one thing you want most. That is what matters."

The hair prickled on the back of Wiz’s neck. The creature was so compelling that Wiz did not doubt for an instant that it could do what it said. In the back of his mind he knew he shouldn’t be here listening to this, but the promise held him.

"Your heart’s desire, mortal," the creature crooned. "Your heart’s desire." The frogs croaked louder.

Wiz licked his lips. "How do I know you can deliver?" he asked.

"Oh, by magic," cackled the being, its pupilless eyes like opals in the moonlight. "By magic."

"What is my heart’s desire?"

"Why a woman, mortal. A woman not far from this very place."

"What do you want in return?"

"Merely a game, mortal. It grows lonely here and time must be passed."

"What kind of game?"

"Why any kind you chose. Would you have a race? Will you wrestle me?"

Neither one sounded like a good idea to Wiz. The furry haunches were powerfully muscled and the thing’s chest was broad and deep.

"No, nothing physical."

"Then something magical?" The creature made a swipe with his hand and left a glittering trail through the night air.

"I—I don’t practice magic," Wiz stammered.

The creature grinned disquietingly. "A pity. A true pity. Well then, what about a game of the mind? The riddle game? Yes, the riddle game."

Like a lot of programmers Wiz took inordinate pride in his problem-solving ability. He firmly believed that any riddle could be solved by a combination of logic and careful examination. Besides, by using truth tables it is possible to construct some mind-boggling riddles, and Wiz had a lot of experience with truth tables.

Wiz licked his lips and found they tasted metallic. The invisible frogs redoubled their croaking.

"All right. I’ll play your riddle game. Who goes first?"

The thing on the rock chuckled, an eerie, burbling sound. "Oh, there is only one riddle in the riddle game, mortal. And I am the one who asks it."

"Oh." That wasn’t the way the game was played as Wiz remembered it, but now he was committed. "Ask then."

The thing on the rock blew a thin airy phrase on its flute and began to sing:

The frogs fell silent in chorus. Wiz racked his brains trying to come up with something that fit. Precious as gold, worthless as dross… Something that was valuable only to one person? Gained without loss? Wiz’s mind ran itself in tight little circles as he tried to imagine what cold possibly fit.

"The answer, mortal," the creature leaned forward, his yellow eyes glowing with unholy light. "I will have the answer or I will have thy soul."

"Give me a minute," Wiz muttered. "Just give me a minute, okay?"

"You do not have a minute, mortal, not even a second." The thing stretched its arms toward Wiz, its fingers spreading like talons. "Answer or you are mine, mortal. Now and forever!"

Panic crushed Wiz’s chest. His mouth tasted like metal and his lips were dry. The thing’s hypnotic eyes rooted him to the spot as firmly as one of the rushes. He could not run, he could not cry out. He could only tremble as the creature moved closer and closer in its mincing gait, hooves tapping on the rock.

"Leave him!" Moira’s voice rang out. "You cannot have him."

The pressure released and with a great gasping sob Wiz fell to the ground. He twisted his head and saw the hedge witch standing behind him.

"But he agreed," the creature howled, dancing up and down on the rock. "Of his own free will he agreed to the bargain!"

"The bargain is invalid. He is under an infatuation spell and has no free will on this."

Wiz simply gaped.

"He made a bargain. A bargain!"

"Trickster and cheat! There could be no bargain and well you know it. Now be off with you! Seek other prey."

Moira threw her arms wide and her cloak billowed behind her like wings in the moonlight. With an awful shriek the creature whirled and dove into the pond. The frogs cut off in mid-croak and waters parted soundlessly to receive him.

"Mortals, mortals, cursed mortals," the thing’s words came faintly and wetly from the pool. "Doomed and dying mortals. One day soon the World will see no more of you. You will vanish like the dew on the grass. Doomed and dying mortals."

Wiz heard the words but he didn’t look. He huddled in his cloak and dug his fingers into the sod as if he expected to be dragged into the pool at any second.

"Oh, get up," Moira said angrily. It’s gone and you’re safe enough for now.

"What in the World ever made you agree to play the riddle game with the likes of that?" she asked as Wiz picked himself up. "Don’t you know you could never win?"

"He promised me my heart’s desire," Wiz said numbly. "He said he could give it to me by magic."

"By magic!" Moira mocked. "You blithering, blundering fool, don’t you know by now to stay away from magic? It’s bad enough I have to leave people who need me to come on this idiot’s errand, but I have to babysit you every second."

"I’m sorry," Wiz said.

"Sorry wouldn’t have saved you if I had been a moment later. You blind fool!"