Диана Дуэйн - Wizard's Holiday

She looked at her name one last time and sighed. It was no shorter than it had been when she first started her wizardry, but some of its terms had changed to shapes not strictly human, and a number of the characters were truncated, or

indicated power levels much reduced. “You guys hardly even need me for this,” she said, “it’s so perfectly tied up.”

Filif rustled at her. “You’re here,” he said, “because this is your Sun. You’re its child, native to the space inside its heliopause. It knows you. It will listen to you where it might not listen to us.”

“Yeah,” Dairine said, allowing herself a breath of laughter. “Sure.” She knew she was no longer quite the power at wizardry that she had been, but she was good enough to hold up her part of a group working and make sure that if anyone else needed help, they would get it in a hurry.

She glanced at her watch. “We’d better move,” she said. “The bubblestorm area’s going to be coming around toward the Sun’s limb soon.”

Roshaun nodded, and took his position near the part of the wizardry that held a precis of its blueprint and the coordinates they were heading for, along with the latest data that the manual had for them on the depth of the tachocline. There would be no more precise data until they got closer to the Sun and could correct for relativistic errors and other problems.

The others arranged themselves around the rim of the wizardry, and then each took one step into it, into the locus prepared for them—the area that held optimum life support for each and that also contained a last-ditch “lifepod” wizardry intended to at least get them out with their lives if anything went wrong. But if anything goes that wrong, Dairine thought, we’re not likely to have time enough to implement the lifepods, anyway…

It was a thought she kept to herself as she looked past the circle and saw the tall shadow standing there in the dark, watching her, saying nothing. She raised a hand to him. He didn’t move for a few breaths…then raised his own.

“Ready?” Roshaun said.

“Ready,” each of the others said, and “Ready,” Dairine said, though she was starting to shake. This wasn’t like the wizardries she did by herself, where if anything went wrong, she was the one to blame, and the only one who would suffer.

“Then let’s speak,” Roshaun said, “and the Aethyrs be with us, because we really need Them tonight.”

The four wizards looked down at the wizardry that surrounded them. In unison, they started to speak its basic propositions in the Speech. The fire of it came up around them, blue green to start with, rapidly tinged with the gold of the star on which they were about to operate. The silence of a listening universe leaned in around them as they spoke the words; the power built—

They vanished into a suburban silence only slightly troubled by the echo of the hiss of solar wind

****

Flashpoints Nita and Kit left the Peliaens’ homestead early the next morning, partly with the intention of seeing no one. And they did see no one, which hurt Nita, but there was

nothing she or Kit could do about it right now. They’ve got to feel we’ve violated their trust, she thought. Quelt, especially. And we so very much didn’t mean to, but —She let out a long breath of discomfort. Explanations would have to wait.

“You ready?” Kit said to her.

“Yeah.”

Doing a short transit to the Naos was the matter of a few moments; there, in the morning mist, Nita and Kit stood at the bottom of one of the flights of steps and looked around them uncertainly.

“She’s late,” Kit said.

“I very much doubt that,” Nita said. “The big question on my mind right now is, where’s Ponch? I thought you said he would meet us here.”

“I thought he would,” Kit said. “After he’s been out all night, he usually meets us first thing in the morning.”

Nita sighed. “Where’s the leash?”

“That’s the problem. I left it on him last night.” Kit shrugged. “I do that sometimes. He usually comes back at night so that I can take it off him. Last night he didn’t come back.” Kit shrugged. “He’ll turn up.”

Nita sighed and sat down on the bottom step. “I feel so rotten,” she said.

“I know.”

“But I didn’t think she was going to react so badly. I mean, this isn’t as if it was something that was going to happen overnight. Or even terribly soon. Think about it! The stricture said that if the Alaalids wanted to reject it, and remake their Choice, they had to do that unanimously. They’re never going to—”

Kit shook his head. “Yes, they could. Or, specifically, not them. The wording Druvah used was, ‘Our descendants in power.’” Kit shook his head. “When you were reading the orientation pack, did you look up the Alaalid word for ‘wizard’?”

Nita shook her head.

“Tilidi’t,” Kit said. “ ‘One who walks in power.’”

Nita gulped. “Oh no,” she said.

“And it’s easy for a decision among wizards to be unanimous,” Kit said, “when in a whole world there’s only one…”

“Oh no,” Nita said again. Suddenly it all made sense. She could just see herself if someone offered her such a piece of information. Know what? Your whole species is in danger of never achieving its potential. But you can do something about it…you, all by yourself. And what happens to all of them hinges entirely and only on you…

Nita shivered. “Shouldn’t Ponch have turned up by now?” she said.

“Yeah…”

But they waited, and waited, and he didn’t turn up. The one who did turn up was Esemeli, still impeccably clad in white and looking wearily amused. “So,” It said, “you’ve decided to trust me after all.”

Kit didn’t say anything. Nita said, “Let’s get on with it. Where are we headed?”

“Down,” the Lone One said. “Do you want to handle the transit yourself, or shall I do it?”

Kit made an ironic after-you gesture.

The three of them vanished.

“This is where it begins,” the Lone One said.

They were standing somewhere else, in the mist at the bottom of a huge cliff. The cliff was some dark stone, towering up into the mist, lost in it; and in the stone of its base was a huge vertical cleft that ran down from the cliff, across the ground, nearly to their feet.

Nita and Kit looked dubiously at the great opening in the Earth. Nita had started taking Latin in school, and the sight of the crevasse suddenly made her remember something she’d translated from the Aeneid last semester: It’s easy to get into the Underworld. The door stands open night and day. But retracing your steps, getting back up to the light—there’s the real work, the tough part—

She took a deep breath. It doesn’t matter, Nita thought. We’re as prepared as we can be. Except for one thing—

She glanced over at Kit and saw that Esemeli was regarding him with an expression of concern. “Where’s your doggy this morning?” It said.

Kit looked at the Lone Power. “I can’t believe, somehow, that you don’t know.”

“I told you,” Esemeli said, “that my ability to perceive what’s going on is severely limited here. So I have no idea where your dog is. And, anyway, after what she made me promise”—and It glanced in annoyance at Nita—”if I knew, I would have to tell you if she asked.”

“Where’s Ponch?” Nita said immediately.

“I don’t know,” the Lone One said.

Kit stood still and closed his eyes for just one last try. Nita heard him calling Ponch silently.

But there was no response.

“You can wait, if you want,” the Lone One said.

“No,” Nita said. The state in which they had left Quelt was very much on her mind. “The sooner we get the proof we need for Quelt, the better. Let’s get going.”