Allan COLE - Wizard of the winds

When the tray was empty he stepped over to Olari's table; as usual, no one paid him the slightest attention, other than to order a drink or to berate him for being lazy and slow. Zeman smiled blandly at the insults, gradually working his way toward Timura. He was just at Olari's elbow, bending his head close as he could to hear the whispered conversation between the two, when Safar suddenly looked up and saw him. His eyes were wide as if someone had just said something surprising. Then they narrowed in what seemed to be sudden understanding.

Zeman couldn't bring himself to tear his gaze away from Safar's stare.

He knows, Zeman thought. Timura knows I'm an informer. But that's not possible! How could he?

Then Timura broke his gaze and touched Olari's hand in warning. The young noble snipped off whatever it was he was saying and leaned closer so Timura could whisper something in his ear. Zeman saw him jolt and start to turn to look in his direction, but another warning touch from Timura stopped him.

Zeman calmed himself. His imagination was running wild, he thought. There was no way Timura could know he was a spy. Safar's behavior was the result of guilt, not knowledge. He and Olari were obviously planning something and Timura was smart enough to make sure that not even someone he held in such contempt as Zeman would overhear. But he still felt uncomfortable, so he hurried away from the table on the pretense of fetching the orders for wine.

Safar watched Zeman dodge through the crowd, the empty tray clutched tightly to his side.

"How do you know he's an informer? Olari asked. He's so stupid and lazy, it's hard to believe Kalasariz would ever want him."

"Trust me, Safar said. Or at least, humor me. My information comes from an impeccable source."

Gundara's hissed warning had come just as Olari was discussing the disturbances he intended to stage after Safar's spellcast disrupted the Founder's Day ceremony. Safar had been nearly bowled over when he realized the little Favorite had fingered Zeman. After his initial surprise he had felt pity for poor Katal. His next thought was the realization that it was none other than Zeman who had put Kalasariz on his trail with trumped up charges. Anger boiled over in his belly, rising to sear the back of his throat. It was Zeman's fault that his life and Nerisa's were in danger. Under the circumstances anger was futile, as were any thoughts of revenge that would delay his flight from Walaria.

"You probably think I've suddenly gone mad, Safar said. Insane or not, you can't be harmed by following my advice and being careful around him."

"I don't think you're mad, Olari said. But I do wonder how you got your information."

"I can't say, Safar said.

"Anyone else we should be wary of? Olari asked.

Safar knew if mentioned Ersen, Olari really would think he'd gone crazy. So he said, Look at it this wayif someone like Zeman can be a spy, then who can you trust? The most unlikely person could be a direct pipeline into Kalasariz. Why, even Ersenjester that he iscould be with the enemy."

"Ersen? Olari said. What brought his name into this?"

Safar shook his head. Please, just be careful. Question everything. Everyone."

"Actually, Olari said, Ersen makes more sense than Zeman. His father ran into some trouble with Kalasariz a few years ago. He seemed doomed for awhile, but then suddenly everything was fine again. And he's done nothing but rise in the ranks of the Walarian Council since Ersen started at the University."

Safar didn't respond and after a bit Olari realized he wasn't going to say anything more.

"For a man who doesn't like politics, Olari said, you sure have a talent for wading into it up to your neck."

An hour later Safar lit the oil lamps in his rooms above the old city wall and got out his chest of magical implements. He had an idea for the spellcast he'd promised Olari and he thought he'd work on it while waiting for Nerisa.

The spell links came to him quickly and he jotted them down for reference and then got out a clean casting scroll and his brushes and magical paints. Gundara was busy devouring the sweet rolls he'd been promised and was quiet for a time. As he nibbled on the last of his treats, the little Favorite noticed what Safar was doing and watched with some amusementpicking dried berries and crumbs off his tunic and popping them in his mouth.

Safar used a narrow brush to paint sorcerous symbols on the rough white surface of the scroll, building up the spellcast's foundation.

"You can tell you're a student, Gundara criticized. Too complicated. And do you really want to put the water sign in the center? Most wizards I know shove it in a corner out of the way."

"I'm not other wizards, Safar said. And in this particular spell water goes in the center."

"O-kay, Gundara said. If that's what you really want. But I think it's pretty stupid. He'd finished the rolls and with no other tasties in sight he didn't see any reason for continued politeness.

"You'd better pray I'm right, Safar said, because you're the one who's going to carry it out."

"Oh, that's just wonderful, Gundara complained. Here I am, the product of history's greatest wizardly minds, reduced to student pranks."

"This happens to be a prank, Safar pointed out, that may save your master's life."

"Oh, in that case, Gundara said, leave the water sign in the center. I'll get a new master quicker."

Safar, mind buzzing with the spell cast he was forming, started to get irritated. But when he saw the Favorite licking the sugary remains off his ugly little face he had to laugh.

"You win, he said. He dabbed white magical paint over the blue water sign. Will the right hand corner do, O Wise One?"

Gundara shrugged. Put it where you like. Makes no never mind to me. The Master knows best, that's my motto from now on."

"Fine, I'll put it there, Safar said. Now, what symbol would you suggest for the center?"

Gundara got interested in spite of himself. How about Fire? he said. That's a good symbol."

"Fire it is, then, Safar said, loading his brush with new paint and making red flame-like flares in the center."

"Of course, Lord Asper would've used his serpent symbol, Gundara said. But I suppose he's out of favor with the younger wizards these days."

The name caught Safar by surprise. Asper? he goggled. You know of Asper?"

Gundara sniffed, superior. Certainly I do. You don't spend a couple of thousands years knocking around wizards laboratories and not run into Lord Asper. Of course, his stuff was always more popular with demons. Since he was one. And I don't do demons. That's Gundaree's job. But I've picked up enough about him over the millennia to get by."

Safar pushed the scroll in front of him. Show me, he said, holding out the brush.

Gundara hopped closer and grabbed the brush. Small as it was, it looked like a large spear in the little Favorite's taloned paws. He washed off the red in a water dish and loaded it with green paint.

Gundara lectured as he drew. The serpent had four heads so it could see in every direction. Each head had four poison fangs to help guard the center. He daubed in the long body. And there was a poison stinger on the tail in case the serpent was attacked from overhead. And then up here, right below where the heads join, you need to give the serpent wings so he can escape into the air if he needs to."

When he was done, Gundara stepped back to examine his work. Not bad, he said, even if I do say so myself."

His twin must have uttered an insult, for he suddenly turned toward the turtle idol, which was sitting next to the brazier. Oh, shut up, Gundaree! he snarled. Shut up, shut up! He turned back to Safar. He's so rude, the Favorite said. You can't believe the things he says to me!"