Christopher Stasheff - The Warlock is Missing

"Then make them hear it again," Magnus grunted. He waited a moment, then asked, "How doth it work on them?"

"They do begin to fear," Gregory reported. " 'Tis not great, and buried deeply—but it hath begun."

"So much the worse for them," Cordelia declared. She turned to Fall. "Hast thou the spiders?"

"Aye, a thousand for each door. They have begun spinning a giant web before each portal."

'"'Tis well." Cordelia turned back to Magnus. "Are the elves in place?"

Her brother looked the question at Kelly. "Aye," the lepre-cohen grinned, "and greatly delighted they are."

"Then let them laugh," Cordelia declared.

A hideous cackling rang through the house from every nook and cranny.

"Trace!" the guard shouted. " That sound shows a waveform, Captain!"

"At last! Something real!" The captain hit a touchpoint on the wall beside the desk and a siren whooped throughout the house. Agents tumbled from their cots, bleary-eyed and fuzzy-brained, hearing the captain's voice booming near their ears, "Search every place large enough to hold a loud-speaker!"

They searched. Behind the terminals, behind the stacks of boxes of organic powder, throughout the storerooms they searched—but they found nothing more than spiderwebs, cur-iously without spiders. As the siren faded, they heard what they were looking for—or its evidence; shrill, manic laughter, at exactly the right pitch to set their teeth on edge and make chills crawl up their backbones. Inside the closets they searched, around the hearth and inside the chimney—but they didn't peer into the crannies between the stones. Down in the time-lab, up on the landing pad, under each cot they searched —but they didn't pull out the wainscoting. Inside every desk drawer, behind every toiletry, inside the cabinets they searched—but they didn't look inside the pipes, or behind the mirrors in the bathroom.

It was just as well they didn't. They wouldn't have be-

lieved what they found, anyway. Even if they had, it wouldn't have made them feel any better.

In every nook more than two inches wide with a foot of space behind it, an elf crouched. Inside the walls, in back of the baseboards, and behind the food synthesizer hid pixies, shooing away mice—and from every minute crack and each open grille echoed their laughter, growing more and more hilarious with every passing moment.

"It's mass hallucination!" the captain bellowed. "It couldn't be anything else!"

"How about sabotage?" called a civilian official.

"From where?"

"Bid them coax the mice to where they can see these fellows," Magnus instructed Kelly.

The elf protested. "Why not the Wee Folk?"

"We dare not let the Big People find them! 'Tis too dangerous," Cordelia explained.

Geoffrey nodded. "And, too, if they did find something that could explain the noises, they might become able to bear their fear."

"Assuredly, we do not wish that," Kelly grinned, and he turned to instruct an elfin courier.

Inside the house, elves coaxed mice into mouseholes that the men didn't know existed. Quivering, the mice stared out at the huge beings who were hurrying from place to place, peering and seeking, growing more and more frantic with each passing minute.

Cordelia closed her eyes, opening her mind to the kitchen mouse. "Aye, I can see them. That cup, there…"

The cup shot off the counter and flew through the air, narrowly missing a plainclothes agent. The agent's head snapped around watching it; he winced as it smashed itself to smithereens against the wall. He looked about with a sudden stab of foreboding…

… and saw the saucer spinning right toward his nose.

In the watch office, the captain heard a crash. He spun about to find the terminal cover in a dozen pieces and molecular-circuit gems strewn about in a circle.

-

At the guard station, the terminal beeped. The guard turned toward it, wide-eyed, and saw a mass of print scrolling frantically upward on its screen.

The print stopped abruptly.

Slowly, the guard stepped toward it, scanning the letters. "Regulations concerning surprise inspections…" He darted frantic glances at the screens, but they were all blissfully peaceful. He stabbed at a touchpoint and called, "Captain… I think somebody's trying to tell us something…"

But a civilian agent down the hall suddenly ducked as a vision pickup wrenched itself out of the ceiling and went whistling past his ear to smash itself to bits on the wall. The agent screamed, "Poltergeist!"

With sweat dripping off his brow, Magnus asked, "Have the gnomes tunneled under the foundations?"

"Aye," Kelly reported. "A score stand under each comer —and the Puck is with them."

Magnus nodded. "Tell them the contest hath begun."

"It's enemy action!" the captain said to an agent, white-faced and trembling. "That High Warlock has to have figured out where we are, and he's sending an army of espers against us!"

"The High Warlock is missing," the agent snapped. "Remember?"

The whole room shivered.

The agent looked up, white around his eyes. "What the hell was that ?"

At the guard station, the desk suddenly heaved upward as the floor bucked beneath. The guard toppled over, howling, "Earthquake!"

"If it's an enemy action," the agent said to the captain, "it's a damn good one!"

The floor again heaved upward a foot, then dropped back down. The agent and captain tumbled shouting to the floor.

Out in the hallway, a civilian agent grabbed at a door frame for support, but the jamb jumped under his hand.

"Enemy action, supernatural, or just unexplained phenomena—it's lethal!" The agent jumped to his feet and stabbed a touchpoint on the desk. "Everybody evacuate!"

"They might come out at any number of places," Geoffrey said angrily.

Gregory shook his head. "They wished the house to be proof against burglars— so they filled the windows with slabs of glass so thick they cannot be broken, and cannot be opened."

"Then there are but the two doors," Magnus said, grinning.

"They come!" Cordelia cried.

The door slammed open and the men came running out at full speed—and slammed into a huge net that had been spun by a thousand spiders. It stretched, but it held. The men flailed about, howling, but the web closed behind them, netting a bagful of a dozen agents at each doorway.

Then up to the front doorway strode the High Warlock.

Higher than usual—he was nine feet tall if he was an inch, crowned with flames where he should have had hair, and his eyes were glowing coals.

The chief agent stared up at him in horror. "But you were kidnapped!"

"Didst thou truly think any trap could hold me?" the High Warlock boomed.

The agent plucked up his nerve. "One of our traps might have—but what can you expect of an anarchist? Of course their trap didn't hold!"

In the gully, Cordelia read the man's mind, and whispered to Magnus, "He doth speak truth—he knoweth not how Mama and Papa were captured."

The High Warlock boomed, "Yet thou didst collaborate with them! Even now, thine agent doth seek to seize power!"

"None of our men are trying a damn thing," the captain yelled, and the agent said, "Go talk to SPITE about it."

"They lie," Cordelia said. "Their thoughts leapt to the Shire-Reeve; he hath been their man for many years, and they have told him exactly what they wished him to do when the chance came."

"As it hath." Geoffrey frowned. "But that chance was not of their making?"

"Nay," Cordelia answered.

Magnus was silent, face screwed up in concentration, staring over the rim of the gully at the house and the nearest bagful of agents, into whose minds he was casting the simulacrum of his father.

"Who doth support thy Shire-Reeve in the other counties?" the High Warlock boomed.