David Grace - The Accidental Magician

What to do about that troublemaker? First he must be isolated from his own kind. Without the support of his fellows, Castor's death was far less likely to cause annoying repercussions. Hazar crossed his workroom and stuck his head into the anteroom beyond. "Rupert, come in here, I have a task for you." Rupert urged his sweaty, dumpy body to its feet. The deacon's skin was a pallid, waxy white and glistened softly under its sheen of oil. The brown, thinning hair was greasy and combed straight back in limp chestnut strands.

"Rupert, I have a job for you. I want you to get yourself over to the Ajaj settlement and straighten out one of the Grays. Word has reached me that one of these fellows has been urging his associates to resist my orders.

"You talk to the chief of that race of sheep-the chief decision maker or random factor or whatever it is they call her-and tell her to take steps to solve this problem. You make sure that she orders this Gray, this Castor, to cease his seditious propaganda and to withdraw all his previous remarks. Be sure she understands that if she does not silence Castor herself we will take steps to do so. Further, she must realize that there is to be no unpleasantness if we are forced to take matters into our own hands."

"I am to obtain the promise of the decision maker to deal with this fellow, then?"

"Nonsense! One doesn't trust a sheep to do the job of a huntcat. First talk to the decision maker, then secret yourself in a likely spot, recite the appropriate incantation, and observe how she handles the problem. If the matter is concluded, all well and good. I will then reduce Castor to the position of a scullery assistant or garbage picker for his impertinence, and that will be that. On the other hand"-Hazar now fixed Rupert with an intent steely gaze-"if for any reason this Gray continues in his treason, you are to kill him in a most spectacular method. Nothing ordinary, now-no drops of poison or clean slash of the knife. Turn him into a human fireball. Explode him like an overinflated bladder. Cause him to pull off his legs and beat himself over the head with them – something to make an example of him."

"It shall be as you command, Hazar."

"Of course it will. Now, get to it!" Rupert hurried from the room with a strange rubbery grace. Hazar closed and locked the door behind him. In a moment the wizard had forgotten Castor and the Ajaj, and Greyhorn as well. Instead he turned to his workbench and commenced even further refinements of the spell which, when augmented by the powerstones which he would soon possess, would be sufficient to amplify his army's power to the point where it might conquer every being on the planet, Hartford, Gogol, Ajaj, and Fanist alike.

Orange pinpoints glittered from the veins of mica which ran through Castor's walls. The translucent tissue which normally covered the window had been rolled out of the way, allowing the mid-afternoon sun to enter through the grate. Hewn from the center of a monstrous boulder, the room was spacious by Ajaj standards-a full ten feet on a side, with a ceiling six feet high. Behind Castor a narrow passageway connected the main room with a large, circular, rock-walled bath. On one side of the hall a crevice five feet long, three deep, and two high had been hollowed out. Here Castor passed the nights on a thin straw mattress hidden behind a woven screen. Now the Ajaj sat before his window, apparently enthralled by the view ahead and below.

Beyond the walls of Castor's apartment could be seen huge boulders, slabs, and blocks tumbled each about the other, the whole field of stone sloping downward into a narrow valley some three hundred yards below. It was within the crevices, hollows, caves, and hideaways formed by these stones that the Ajaj Grays made their home.

Am I the only one who knows what should be done? Castor asked himself. Am I so different from my fellows? Perhaps I am mad, or cursed.

The view was incomparably lovely. So easy to relax in the serenity of Fane, to block out the world beyond the valley. In these very apartments there was room for the other two members of a triad. Castor was of the proper age to begin a family. It would be no great task to cut two more niches in the wall and add a small fertility closet for the appropriate rites. Impossible, impossible. Destiny pulled him in another direction. Well, that was the Ajaj way. Castor shrugged and gave himself to his fate. He would visit the decision maker and make one last attempt to convince her of the need for them to flee or, failing that, to oppose the Gogols.

Stooping, Castor negotiated the zigzag narrow passage which led between the boulders. His three-foot form slipped effortlessly between the crags. In a few moments Castor had reached the entrance to Obron's lodgings. He made chirping sounds. An instant later two more chirps sounded from within, and he entered Obron's apartment.

"Castor, I thought it might be you," Obron said when Castor moved into the light. "Your suggestions have disturbed many people. The Gogols themselves are enraged."

"The Gogols? How have they become involved in this?"

"How could they not be involved? Your remarks bear directly upon our relationship with them. Surely it was inevitable that one way or another they would be consulted."

His people were slaves of the Gogols, and when someone objected, their masters were asked for their opinion on the topic! Incredible. Yet it should have been predicted. He was so unlike his brothers. Perhaps he was indeed mad. Castor waved his hands in inexpressible frustration.

"I must admit that I had not considered that possibility," he said at last. "Naturally the Gogols were not pleased with my suggestions."

"Naturally not."

"Well, then, now that they are alerted, all the more reason for us to flee. Come, Obron, surely you must see that. You are the soul of the Ajaj-the average, the stereotype, the representative of our common hopes and desires. Surely the random factor would not have chosen you if you did not feel what must be felt and see what must be seen."

"Castor, I feel that it is you who are out of step, not I. You know the Ajaj way: retreat from danger, accept our lot, protect ourselves, and bend with destiny. Here we are safe and secure. Our duties to the Gogols are not overly burdensome, and they offer protection against marauding bandits and rapacious animals."

"We could handle the bandits more easily than we can control the Gogols," Castor replied. "This is Fane. Here there are few beasts to threaten us, no slavers to drag us to some far star. The Gogols provide nothing that we could not provide for ourselves. Each year their service becomes more demanding, their lusts and perversions more repellent."

"No, Castor. Our duty is to protect the race, the tribe, the Ajaj. I've cast the stones five times, and each time they have picked a different member of our company. To each of these I have put your suggestions. Your ideas have been unanimously rejected. The random factor has not failed. We are all of the decision that we will neither fight nor flee. You, of course, may do as you wish, but I warn you that we cannot intercede on your behalf should the Gogols call you to task for your statements."

"I must do what I must do."

"We all do what we must do. Still I am duty bound to beg you to cease your arguments. Already Rupert, assistant to the great Hazar, has demanded that you be taken in hand. There is no doubt that if you fail to change your ways Rupert will have your life. If you continue the rest of us will not, cannot, intercede on your behalf."

Castor arose stiffly and nodded in Obron's direction. The day was waning. The room's diffused orange light turned his silver-gray fur to charcoal black. Castor slid from the room while Obron shook her head in silent despair. Four hundred yards farther up the hill Rupert also shook himself as he broke from his trance. A shiver passed through his body as he opened his eyes. Below, he could see Castor making his way back up the hill to his apartment. Clearly the insolent creature had to be dealt with.