The Sorcerer_s Skull

" When would she like us to be there?"

" This evening?" the man suggested. " For a semi- formal dinner?"

" It' d have to be less formal than that. My clothes are a bit the worse for wear and tear."

" The Suzerain understands. Clothing suitable for the occasion will be sent. The third hour after sunset?"

" Fine," said Lan, puzzled. As he shut the door, he said to himself, " This is a more civilized city than I thought. Not only do I get a free meal, I get some clothes- and all for parading Krek around. Not bad, not bad at all!"

The tunic fit perfectly, but the gold threads cut into his flesh and the diamond bits woven into the fabric sent cold shivers throughout his body. Still and all, Lan Martak felt well taken care of. The envoy had chosen the clothing for him, and, while it didn' t suit him as to taste, Lan had allowed the man to foist it off on him. This was the Suzerain' s party.

Krek bounced from one side to the other in a nervous motion that soon got on Lan' s nerves.

" Calm down, will you? They' re not going to eat us for supper. The Suzerain herself invited us. She wants to meet you."

" Meet me? Me, a poor spider from the depths of the Egrii Mountains? On this world, there are not even any Egrii Mountains."

" You said you were a Webmaster. Doesn' t that make you some sort of nobility?"

" Nobility?" shrilled the spider. " Far from it. I ran from my lovely Klawn after our mating. I forfeited my claim to any nobility with that cowardly act. I should have allowed her to devour me, to cocoon me for our hatchlings' first meal. What right have I to meet with nobility? My offspring may starve because of my failings."

Lan sighed and ignored the piteous whinings. He stared in frank admiration at the room in which they waited. The walls were frescoed by an artist of great talent. Every character seemed alive, eyes burning with emotion, their motion merely checked, the scenes intellectually involving and thrilling to study. On the floor lay a rug of a strong, fine weave that crushed delicately as Lan paced over it. As he walked, a tiny fragrance of pines rose to tease his nostrils. Gentle music reached his ears, music caused by his light steps on the rug; the combinations of feel, scent, and hearing beguiled him with the ingenuity. The furniture was on the sparse side and appeared too fragile for any significant weight; Lan decided against sitting in the antiques. The carved wood door had been polished to a luster approaching a mirror' s, and the door lever might have been wrought from the finest of gold leaf. Lan couldn' t wait to see the rest of the Suzerain' s palace.

" This way, gentle ones," came the almost- whispered words of the chamberlain. He bowed as Lan and Krek passed him.

Lan hesitated as he passed. His arm had bumped into the chamberlain' s. Cold metal instead of flesh ran under the lush velvet tunic. Seeing his reaction, the chamberlain smiled and said, " I am a mechanical. The human servants are reserved for more: personal duties."

" Totally mechanical?" asked Lan, frowning. The man- the mechanical- reached up and caught a corner of his face. He stripped back enough of the false flesh to reveal metallic bone.

" Totally mechanical," confirmed the chamberlain. " While it limits many things, it does relieve humans of tedious duties."

" I can imagine," said Lan, glancing back at the chamberlain. A slight clanking sound was the only indication that the servant wasn' t completely human.

" By the Great Web," muttered Krek. " To spin a web here! It would be an act of daring and skill second to none."

The hall' s vastness awed Lan. A four- story hotel had seemed extravagant use of time and material; it would fit into the chamber with space to spare on all sides. The vaulted ceiling of the hall vanished into the distance. He fancied tiny clouds formed their own weather patterns in the immense distance where the groined arch met. Pillars of alabaster supported the roof, and an opalescent material formed the floor. The entire audience chamber told of immense power and wealth- and, thought Lan, a rare quantity among rulers, great taste.

The pair clicked and walked along the floor to the far end of the chamber. At the raised throne sat a small child of indeterminate sex, hardly more than six or seven years of age. Lan' s eyebrows rose at the idea of so young an urchin ruling Melitarsus.

" He' s my son, gentle one," came a lilting voice from Lan' s right. He turned and again felt awe rising. The woman swirled past in a diaphanous gown that appeared to be spun of storm clouds and lightning, shifting, changing, rolling with vibrancy and power. The dark billows flowed in such a fashion that creamy skin was exposed as she moved; brilliant flashes of light were emitted from the deepest recesses of the fabric. A single strand of pearls circled the woman' s throat. Other than this, she wore no jewelry.

" You are the Suzerain Nashira?"

" I am. And you are Lan Martak. And this is Krek of the Pinnacles, Krek- k' with- kritklik." How such an alien name flowed so easily from a human mouth amazed Lan. He' d tried for some time to properly pronounce Krek' s name- and he' d repeatedly failed.

" Nashira," said Krek, bending all eight legs and forming a brownish lump in the middle of the gleaming opal floor. " You do this weak, pitiable one too much honor by your presence."

" Nonsense, it is Melitarsus that applauds you. I' ve heard of your exploits with the caravan, and your heroism. The least I could do was learn your name."

Lan frowned slightly. He couldn' t pronounce Krek' s full name, so how had Nashira learned it? Before he could pursue this line of thought, the woman spun about. Her dress opened slightly at the neckline from the motion and exposed a flare of lily- white breast that took Lan' s mind off such erudition on the woman' s part.

" Food. We must eat. Run along and play, Kyle."

" Do I have to, Mama? I want to watch the spider."

" Well, only if you behave." She smiled fondly as the child nodded, wide- eyed. " He' s so good. He' ll make a fine ruler for Melitarsus one day."

" You' re so young, that day must be far in the future," said Lan, trying for his most gracious of compliments.

" I' m older than I appear, gentle one, but thank you. Now, food. For all of us!"

Krek' s mandibles clacked in a ferocious manner when he spied the delicacies prepared for him. An entire table had been laid with half the members of the insect kingdom.

" Your pardon, Suzerain," Krek said, his large dun- colored eyes focused on the platters presented for his approval. " I must honor you by doing justice to such fine food."

Nashira smiled as the spider began eating the grubs, worms, and insects fried, dipped, and spiced for him.

" Our other dishes are somewhat more enticing- to humans." She seemed unable to take her eyes off Krek, however, as she and Lan sat at a nearby table. Lan blinked hard as he " felt" magics surround him; the spells came from nowhere, seemed to be everywhere.

" This is a most progressive city, Suzerain," said Lan, trying to draw her attention away from Krek. " I noted you don' t even use the royal ' we' when referring to yourself."

A dainty hand made a motion of dismissal.

" Such things are beneath me. Being Suzerain carries heavy burdens. My subjects, my loyal subjects, require continual work on my part. Taxes must be spent wisely."

" They seem to be," cut in Lan. " Melitarsus prospers."

" You like it here?" she asked, for the first time interested in him. Lan stirred uneasily. More than a faint touch of magic now flowed through the conversation. His magic- sensing ability " itched," but not enough to make him wary, just curious.

" The city is unparalleled in my travels. And it' s ruler is the most gorgeous I' ve ever seen."