Foster, Dean - Spellsinger 04 - The Moment Of The Magician

advanced," Falameezar replied in surprise.

"They're working on it," Jon-Tom assured him.

"Aren't you?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" The conscious members of the

Quorum managed to reply with enthusiasm, if a bit

too quickly.

Falameezar looked pleased. "It is good to have

right-thinking company in such sad circumstances-

As it is good to see my old comrade again. You, too,

Mudge. even if you did express the occasional reac-

tionary thought." The otter allowed himself to be

stroked by a single swordlike talon.

"If only I could get ahold of my duar," Jon-Tom

mumbled. "Markus hasn't placed any anti-magic spells

on me."

"That is so,'* admitted Opiode. "I would have

sensed it if he had."

TUB MOMEATT Or THE MAGICIAM 277

"Then there's only one thing left to try." He started

toward the tunnel. "I have to go back to our cell."

"You're jokin', mate." '

"No, Mudge. It's the only .way. I've got an idea.

Mudge, will you and Quorly come back with me?"

"Count on me, Jenny-Tom," she replied. Her ready

agreement made Mudge's acquiescence a foregone

conclusion.

"I'll be back in a little while, Falameezar"

"Good luck, comrade."

"Just a minute." Men-law stepped in front of Jon-

Tom as he bent to enter the tunnel. She looked

significantly past him. "What do we talk about with

the dragon?"

"Anything you can think of. He likes to chat- The

last weather we saw outside, jokes... Falameezar's

great with jokes. Simple things. Just make sure no-

body talks about how rich they'd like to be. Fame you

can talk about, but not fortune. Tell him how much

you all despise the capitalist bosses."

"What are those?"

"Never mind. Just do it. It'll please him."

Memaw was still reluctant to let him leave. "What

are you going to do, work some strange magic on

our behalf?" He nodded. "But I thought you told us

you required your duar in order to work magic."

"There's magic, and then there's magic." He winked

at her, then bent and began gathering bones. As

many as he could carry. He directed Mudge and

Quorly to do likewise.

"Oi, it works better when you use the duar, mate.

There's less to carry." Staggering beneath his grue-

some burden, he followed Quorly and Jon-Tom into

the tunnel.

Making their way through the narrow tube had

been difficult enough with their hands free. With the

armfuls of bones it was twice as hard. But the otters

Aim Dean Foster

278

never complained, and Jon-Tom was damned if he

was going to be the one to call for a rest.

Eventually they found themselves beneath the en-

trance to their cell. They dumped their loads. Mudge

went up Jon-Tom's back as lithely as he would have a

tree, and listened.

"Dead quiet, mate. They 'aven't checked on us

since we took our little walk. No need to, really.

Wasn't likely we'd be goin' anywhere, now, was it?"

"Move those stones and let's get up there."

"Right, mate, but you'd better know wot you're

about."

"You'll understand soon enough."

Sure enough, once their cargo had been arranged

according to his instructions, Mudge knew just what

his lanky, furless friend had in mind.

"What was that?" The javelina turnkey spoke to

the fennec seated across the table. The fennec's

oversized ears immediately cocked sideways.

"Beats me. 1 heard it too." He put aside his

handful of odd triangular cards and shouted toward

the stairway. "You prisoners be quiet or you won't get

your next ration of slop!"

The eerie moaning which had interrupted their

game grew louder.

"Don't sound like the otters," said the javelina,

cleaning a nail on one upthrust tusk. He then used

it to strip the bark from a piece of cane, stuck the

clean pulp in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

When the moaning continued he put down his cards,

careful not to reveal them to his companion, and

issued an irritated grunt-

"We'd better see what's going on down there."

"Maybe they're killing each other."

"They'd better not be. Thomrack himself ordered

me to make sure they stay healthy until the new

magician decides what's to be done with them."

THB MOMENT or THE MAGICIAN 279

He took a three-foot-long knife off the wall. The

fennec opted for a long spear. This was excellent for

poking at prisoners through bqrs.

Each grabbed a torch as they started down the

stairs. Soon they were on the lower level, staring

through the bars^of the big cell. Staring hard.

"By the curl in my grandmother's tail!" the stunned

javelina muttered. "What's happened to them?" His

initial irritation had turned to panic.

"Dead," moaned a quavering voice from the back

of the cell, "they're all deeeaddd."

"What do you mean, all dead?" the fennec stuttered

as he struggled to locate the speaker. The voice

responded with a moan.

"Open it up," he told the turnkey. The javelina

nodded, used his keys and then his hands to swing

the huge grate slightly ajar. Hefting the long knife,

he entered cautiously while the fennec waited by the

door in case any of the prisoners tried to make a

break for it-

No one did. There was no one in the cell.

Except... in the farthest corner he found the tall

man sitting with his back against the wall. His hands

half covered his face, and he was shaking in terror.

"What's the matter with you?" The turnkey's eyes

roamed the deserted darkness nervously. "Where are

the rest of them?"

"The wizard, it was the wizard who did it," Jon-

Tom moaned feebly. He gestured with a shaky hand.

"Pid it to all of them."

"Did what?" The javelina's blunt muzzle twitched

as he followed the pointing Fingers.

A substantial pile of white bones lay nearby, heaped

up in a jumble against the wall. Had the turnkey

taken the time to look closely he might have seen

that none of the skeletons belonged to otters, or a

salamander, or a pangolin, but to entirely different

Al«n Dean Foster

280

species. It might not have mattered anyway. His

knowledge of anatomy was pretty much restricted to

knowing where the best place to stick a knife was.

**By the Ovens of Suranis!" he whispered fearfully.

"What is it, where are all the prisoners?" The

fennec stuck his head into the cell, trying to see.

"Gone, all gone. Nothing left of them except their

bones." The javelina swung his torch to illuminate as

much of the cell as possible, "What manner of sor-

cery is this?"

"He did it. The salamander did it,"

"Old Opiode?"

"Yes, yes, the slimy one! He said he was tired of

this, tired of everyone and everything, and he did

this. Only I was s-s-spared."

"A spell was put on him to prevent him from

working magic. The new wizard did that himself. We

were told," the javelina insisted.

"I know, I know, but the slimy one struck a bargain

with the creatures of the dark, and now he's going to

do that to all who oppose him." Jon-Tom pointed

toward the pile of bones- "1 saw, 1 saw him do it. He

made the flesh run like butter from their bones.

made it melt and drip..."

The fennec couldn't stand it anymore. His mind

told him there was only one live prisoner left in the

cell and his curiosity was killing him. He held his

spear in front of him as he entered.

"What's this garbage this fool's saying?" he asked

the turnkey.