C. Brittain: The Witch, the Cathedral

“This is the bribe, then?” I asked, fists still clenched along my sides. “I get hired onto the permanent faculty of the school now, in part so you can keep a closer eye on me, and then you promise that when you take over I can stay?”

“Wouldn’t you find this a tempting bribe, Daimbert-if I were making one?”

“No. I am Royal Wizard of Yurt. And I do not want to be part of any attempt to control the rest of the world. I know you are a better wizard than I could be in a thousand years, but even you can’t control it. If I have thwarted you, it’s not because I have outmaneuvered you. It’s because the world, and that includes me, is much too messy and unpredictable, impossible for even the best wizardly planning to guide successfully.” I rose abruptly to my feet. Get out while I was still alive. “Thank you so much for tea, but I should get home to Yurt tonight.”

Elerius rose too and went to the door, the gracious host, to see me out. I followed him, feeling sweat trickling down my neck. Almost. I was almost out of here to safety. But he paused with his hand on the latch.

“Don’t take accusations to the school, Daimbert, when you have no proof,” he said quietly. “You can take pride in having kept organized wizardry unchanged if that was your goal. But I would still like to be your friend. Think over these ideas how the school might be improved. Anyone who can overcome a fanged gorgos with spells that shouldn’t work, become friends with a bishop, and make such imaginative and highly romantic guesses about what I might have been planning, deserves closer study!” He opened the door. “Have a pleasant trip home-but keep in touch.”