Rick Cook - Wizard’s Bane

"Should you summon more of the Mighty to help?"

Shiara considered and then shook her head. "There is nothing others could do here that I could not. Involving others only means risking them as well."

Cormac shrugged acceptance and Shiara set to work on unravelling the puzzle. Three times she passed round the great gloomy chamber, testing each object.

"It is no good," she said at last. "All of the spells are interlinked and apparently none of them are the key."

"I thought you said there had to be a key."

"I thought so, but I can find no sign of one."

"Well, Light. Where does that leave us?"

Shiara frowned and tapped the wand against her jaw. "I do not know. It seems beyond reason that all this exists merely as a death trap for the unwary. There must be a key. Else why not destroy everything in the beginning and be done with it?"

"Malice?" Cormac suggested.

"A poor motive for all this work. Those of Amon-Set’s skill seldom did things for such simple reasons."

"Well then?"

"There is one alternative. Rather than remove all these objects we could destroy them here."

"Wouldn’t that scar the land?"

"Most probably," Shiara agreed. "It also means the loss of all the knowledge here. I do not want to do that unless I have to. But Cormac, we cannot allow what is here to fall to the wrong person. Even a hedge wizard could rise to bestride the World with what is in this place."

Cormac sighed. "Do as you think best, Light."

She nodded. "I think with the right spell I can destroy all of this at once."

"How do you propose to do that?"

"Earth magic. The forces are finely balanced here. They can be upset with but little effort—well, little enough in terms of the results. I believe I can fashion a spell to turn the magic against itself and so unbalance the flow."

"Earth magics are hardly a specialty of the Mighty," Cormac pointed out.

"Earth magics are uncontrollable. But all we want is destruction. It should be an easy matter to take the top of this mountain off."

"And take us up with it?"

"No. I will set the spell in motion through a counting demon. We will have time to get away."

Again Shiara knelt with her bag and set to work. She had nearly finished the spell when Cormac came over to her. He waited at a respectful distance until she paused.

"You know, Light, I have been thinking."

"And?"

"Well, curse my suspicious nature, but it occurs to me there may be more here than we see. We know that none of the visible things is the key to this pile of magical jackstraws, but did it occur to you that there might be something here that is not visible?"

"Cormac, you are brilliant! Of course the final key would be hidden! Why did I not think of that?"

"Because you’re an honest thief, lass," Cormac grinned. "Now myself, I’m a bit of a rogue."

She leaned over and kissed him. "You are that."

He looked around the room. "Now if I were a master sorcerer with a secret to hide, where would I hide it?"

"Someplace close, I think," Shiara said, looking around the great room. Either in this room or in a room off it." She started toward one wall and then stopped.

"Cormac, I want you to examine the room carefully for anything strange or unusual."

"In this place? Fortuna! But what will you be doing?"

"I am going to finish my spell." She bit her lower lip. "Even once we find the key we may not want to use it. And I wish to finish this business and be away quickly."

"As you will, Light." He moved off.

"And Cormac, touch nothing!"

Again the grin. "Since it’s you who ask, Light."

While Cormac searched, Shiara concentrated on completing her spell. She forced herself to think only of the technical aspects, blocking out the unease that almost stifled her. Only when the spell was complete and primed and her counting demon duly instructed did she look up.

"Have you found anything?" she called to Cormac across the gloomy expanse of the hall.

"Nothing I care to think overmuch on," he called, crossing the black-and-green floor. "The place is strangely proportioned, these pedestals seem strewn about at random and the pattern on this miserable floor makes my eyes ache." He looked down at the patterned marble at his feet.

"The floor," Shiara said reflectively. "Yes." She looked up. "There may be a message here." She stepped back to the entrance and looked out over the elaborate pattern formed by the squares of marble that floored the hall.

From the door the tiles made the floor seem to sweep away in a roller-coaster perspective, tilting and writhing off into the distance. There seemed to be no horizon line and no point of perspective save madness in the bizarre geometry of the tiles. And yet…

"Cormac, walk out that way," she said pointing toward one corner of the hall. The swordsman followed her pointing finger. "A little further. Now stop." Inexorably the pattern seemed to pull him to the right. It was somehow wrong to move to the left at that point.

"Now go left," she commanded. Cormac dubiously obeyed. "Further left. No, don’t look down at the floor! Don’t close your eyes. Just keep to your left." With his gaze locked at the shoulder level Cormac moved more to his left and off into the gloom.

"Now what do you see?"

"Nothing much," Cormac called back. "I just bumped into a wall. Wait a moment, I seem to have company."

Shiara gasped.

"Nay, lass, he’s not dangerous now. But I think you will enjoy this."

"Stay where you are." Shiara moved away from the door and toward Cormac who was invisible in the gloom. "Talk to me. Anything, just so I can follow the sound of your voice."

"Well, it’s dark over here, darker than any other part of the room. And our friend isn’t much of a conversationalist."

"Fine," said Shiara coming up to him. "Don’t look at that floor. It’s both a trap and a hiding place. It is designed to draw you away from this spot and perhaps ensnare you if you are so foolish as to watch the floor as you walk."

She nodded to Cormac’s silent companion. "I think that’s what happened to him."

Standing almost next to Cormac with his eyes fixed on the floor was a black-robed wizard. He was obviously alive but equally obviously caught fast in the grip of a spell. He could neither move nor talk but his eyes burned with venomous hatred as he looked at the floor.

"Why it’s Jul-Akkan isn’t it?" Shiara said pleasantly. "I thought you might be along on this and of course you’re too old a fox to be caught by the death spells around the hoard. What did you do, wait outside while the others rushed to the pedestals?"

She turned to Cormac. "Note him well, Cormac. Jul-Akkan is high in the Council of the League. Indeed he bid fair to become a master of all the League, were he able to rid himself of one or two of his more troublesome colleagues. Now here he is, caught like a fly in a honey bowl."

Cormac shifted and raised his sword for the killing stroke.

"No," Shiara commanded. "I don’t know what that would do to the spell and I doubt you could kill him so easily. No, best leave him while we attend to our main business." She stooped to examine the wall behind Cormac.

"Now let us see what is here."

A quick search of the wall revealed a thin narrow crack in the polished black stone of the wall. Carefully she ran her hand along it, feeling rather than seeing the unevenness that marked a panel in the otherwise solid stone.

She knelt down and pressed her hand against the panel. "It is locked and enchanted, but not guarded, I think."

"Don’t bet your life on that, lass," Cormac warned. "This fellow was tricky enough for ten wizards."

"I will venture nothing on the chance. I merely make the observation."

Shiara looked up at him from where she knelt. "You do not have to be here for this."