David Grace - The Accidental Magician

The mouth of the cavern stood halfway up a hillside overgrown with vines, springwood trees, and creepers. A procession of low, rolling hills marked the landscape ahead.

"Castor, do you know this place? Where are we?"

"I have never been here, but Buster lived in Cicero a long time and heard many things. He instructed me in Gogol geography. We are just beyond the northern edge of the city. To the west lies a great plain all the way to the Endless Ocean. These estates are farmed by the Grays under Topor's direction. To the east the country is poorer. There Gogol freemen have staked out their homesteads between Cicero and the edge of the Weirdlands. Directly ahead the foothills continue all the way to a group of peaks the Gogols call Satan's Chair. A bit to the east of us a major trail follows a winding valley between these mounds all the way to the headwaters of the Mephisto River. From there barges travel downstream to the city of Mephisto itself. To the northwest one can skirt the foothills and travel the boundary between Topor's estates and Satan's Chair. The country is by and large rough but not impassable. It is said that if one continues far enough he will reach Grog Cup Lake."

"Are you suggesting that we turn this into a tourist expedition?" Grantin asked.

"Buster said that Zaco's mine is to the northwest, at a place where a meteor had long ago smashed into the earth. It could be Grog Cup Lake."

"A lake?"

"Now it is a lake, but it might have begun as a meteor crater. It is said that in the middle of rolling country its walls rise hundreds of feet above the surrounding soil. The cliff is perfectly circular and the bowl within filled with clear water and in the center is an island. Where else could Zaco's meteor crater be?"

"Where else indeed?" Grantin said testily. "You expect us to embark on a wild-goose chase across hostile, uncharted wilderness, racing toward a colony of evil sorcerers, on the word of some third hand geography lesson? For all you know there might be hundreds of places which could just as easily be the location of Zaco's mine."

"What else can we do? Surely we haven't come this far just to escape? Hazar must be defeated."

Grantin snorted in dissatisfaction. He turned to Chom, who had been studying the countryside below.

"Chom, you're very quiet about all of this. What do you say? Can you give me one good reason why we shouldn't wait until nightfall and then make our way home?"

"We each have our own goals. You must find your own reasons for doing what you do. Neither mine nor Castor's can properly be sufficient for you."

"And what does that mean? Tell me this-if I declared my intention to go home would you come with me or go running off on some wild-goose chase with Castor?"

"I do not wish to affect your decision. Assume that I will do what is in your best interest as balanced against the best interests of my people."

"Riddles! Double-talk! I'm in the company of a mad Ajaj and a logic-chopping Fanist. Castor, let me ask you this-how would you propose that we defeat Hazar if, in fact, we did find Zaco's expertly manned and guarded bloodstone mine? What am I to do-throw rocks at him?"

"It seems to me that with the great power stored in your ring and with the assistance of Chom and myself a potent spell could be forged."

"Perhaps you have forgotten that I came all this way to be freed of that ring? Has it escaped your attention that I no longer wear it?"

"Your ring? Gone?" Castor grabbed Grantin's hand with a wild motion. "What happened to it? It isn't lost?"

"While you and Chom were clearing the passage I had Mara remove it."

"But you can't abandon us now," Castor shouted. "Does saving my people mean nothing to you? Can you stand by and allow the slaughter of the Grays?"

"What would you have me do?"

"Can there be any question? You must put the ring back on."

Grantin threw up his arms and paced a tight circle inside the cave's entrance. "Chom, what do you have to say about all this? Can you bring no sanity to this discussion?"

"I can say this: we should leave this cave at once. At any moment Hazar's guards may discover evidence of our presence in the storeroom. We cannot allow ourselves to be caught here. Whichever direction we go, we must move quickly."

Grantin seethed with frustration. He peered through the trailing network of vines in a vain attempt to locate a path to the Guardian Mountains far to the east. Why should he feel responsible if Hazar slaughtered the Grays? He hadn't asked them to rescue him. But you didn't refuse their offer, a small voice at the back of his mind reminded him. And what about your uncle? Grantin rejected his conscience's argument. His uncle had chosen to get involved with the devil-worshipers. His fate was of his own making. And what of Mara? She sacrificed herself to save you. Mara, lovely Mara -but she wasn't the only woman in the world. With his uncle's property he would find plenty. Against his will the vision of Buster's murder and Mara's capture flashed through Grantin's mind. Blast! Blast! Why could not his life be simple, uncomplicated, and pleasant, like that of other normal men?

"Grantin, we must leave," Chom prodded. "You must make up your mind. Are you coming with us or going home?"

"He'll not go home like this. If I be a mad Ajaj, as they claim, I may as well be one to perfection. I'd sooner draw my knife here than let Grantin abandon us all to the Gogols,"' Castor said as he reached down to pull out his blade. Almost as if by lazy accident, one of Chom's fore arms snaked out and grabbed the Ajaj's wrist.

"An unwilling wizard is worse than no wizard at all," Chom said quietly. "This must be a question for Grantin's own conscience.'"

"Chom, you're going with Castor no matter what I do?" Grantin asked.

"For what good it will do. Shenar's spell still binds me. My powers are still blunted. I had hoped that with the help of you and Castor we might be able to restore them. As it is"-Chom shrugged-"we will have to do the best that we are able."

"But this is madness!"

Castor jerked his hand free from Chom's easy grasp but made no move to withdraw his blade.

"Grantin, we must leave now. We wish you good luck," Chom said as he ushered Castor toward the edge of the cave.

"Wait! Apparently, Castor, your madness has contaminated me as well. Very well, then, we may as well march out of here together and all of us throw our lives into the very jaws of death. Why is it that the honest fellows such as myself are always sucked into the maelstrom of others' tribulations?"

From his pocket Grantin absentmindedly extracted the patch of cloth within which was wrapped the ring. "Always it is the innocents who are called upon to hurl their bodies in the path of evil, ordinary citizens who like nothing better than a quiet evening at the inn, a harmless dalliance with a local maid, the simple life of genteel companionship. Why is it always we who are called upon to perform heroic deeds?"

Without looking at his hand Grantin unwrapped the fabric and positioned the ring just beyond his index finger. "I am surrounded by reckless beings who urge me into a dangerous undertaking only to fulfill quixotic desires of their own. Ah, that is my flaw, my good-hearted nature! I am too easily taken advantage of. I know the error of my ways, but I am too weak to help myself."

A psychic shiver rippled through the cave as Grantin again slipped the ring over his finger. An inaudible snap reverberated through the ether as the band contracted and once more affixed itself to his flesh. "There, now I've done it! Are you happy? Are you pleased? Are you overjoyed at the position into which you have maneuvered me? Very well, lead me to my death! Forward to horrible trials and tribulations! Onward into the very maw of evil-but don't say I didn't warn you!"