The Wizard of Karres

Leewit. The worry steadily built into anger. By the time Arvin Warmaker finally walked into her room of confinement, she was quite ready to start her brawl with him all over again.

But . . . the High Lord looked even smaller than he had when she first met him—and a lot younger. All the Sprites she'd seen seemed much smaller than her people, which was something of the opposite to the way history had painted the matter.

He also looked very worried. 'I had planned to leave this until the gathering tomorrow. But now the littlest of your band has escaped or been seized. Why are you trying to push us into this war with Delaron? I have tried very hard to avoid it. We've had generations of war. Surely that is enough?' His tone was plaintive.

The wind was taken out of Hantis' sails. 'Avoid . . .'

'Despite what Nalin and his cohorts say, I am not convinced that it would be wise,' said Arvin. 'Or that we would win anyway, even if it were.'

Hantis took a deep breath. She could tell that he spoke the truth.

So, it was history that had lied. Well, it wouldn't be the first time.

'High Lord Arvin, do you have a truth-speaker among your councilors?'

He shook his head. 'Such klatha powers are rare. It is a pity, because they are useful to a ruler.'

'Very,' she said dryly. 'You see, I am one. And despite everything I was raised to believe, I know you to be speaking the truth of your heart.'

He looked at her, extremely suspiciously. 'You say 'despite everything you were raised to believe.' So, you are one of our ancient foes, after all. I had wondered. Will you make peace with us, then? Is this an overture that has been terribly misunderstood?'

Hantis wished that, like humans, she could weep for this boy-man. 'I am not one of those you term 'our ancient foes,' but, yes, this has been a terrible misunderstanding.' She sighed. 'But I fear I have not come make a peace with Delaron. I fear, I fear terribly, that I may have come to make you go to war with them.'

It was his turn to gape at her. 'What? If you are not from Delaron, then where have you come from? And how did you know the kin-words of Clan Aloorn?'

'I was taught them,' said Hantis calmly. 'They were among the first things I was ever taught. Even in my cradle they were sung to me. I know how the flame walls are triggered. I know where the tooth-traps lie. I know the portal songs for each and every of the inner chambers.'

He looked fearfully around. 'You must indeed be a spy!'

'Why would a spy come here if they already knew all of our defenses?' asked Hantis.

He drew back between his two guards. 'You are an assassin!'

She issued a small, wry laugh. 'Why would I admit to knowing all of our ancient secrets, High Lord, if I were an assassin? No, I am one who would know these things by right. The only one who could know all of the secrets of Aloorn, besides yourself. Think, High Lord Arvin. Who has the right to know as much as you do . . . except one born to the inner Clan? I am of Aloorn, but I am from your distant future.'

'That is not possible.'

She shrugged. 'Nonetheless, it is true. I am a distant descendant of yours. You are one of the most . . . well- known Sprites from the era of the Nanite plague wars. The most ill-famed and notorious, to be precise.'

His eyes nearly popped out of his head. 'Leave,' he said to both of his guards.

'But, High-Lord . . .'

'Go! You may remain in the passage.'

Reluctantly, the bodyguards obeyed.

The High Lord of Aloorn waited until they were out of earshot. 'You know something that is secret from all but the High Lords. This is either a very cunning trap . . . or the truth. Prove to me that it not a trap.'

'I can show you the secret exit to your chamber, which is activated by placing your palm on the points of the tsaritsa flower in the middle of the window-wall. And I can tell you that the early secret quarantine will fail. It has already failed.'

He blinked, his double lids covering his violet eyes. 'Who are you? I mean who are you where you come from?'

'I told you. I am your direct descendant. I am named High Lady Hantis des Shaharissa of Clan Aloorn.'

'Why have you come here? How have you come here?'

'A vatch.' As Hantis recalled, there had always been vatches. They had just become more numerous around humanity. Klatha wielded by humans seemed attractive to them and, to creatures to whom time and space were equally insubstantive, they could congregate where they willed.

He bit his thin lips. 'It is possible, I suppose. We know the vatches sometimes use their power to play Sprites as pieces in great dramas. But what test have you and your companions come to Nartheby to perform? Aloorn is no place for such deeds.'

'I think,' said Hantis carefully, 'that I was brought here as part of a vatch joke. I was supposed to kill you, and thereby—having destroyed my own progenitor—destroy myself. This vatch seems more malicious than most. But you are wrong about the role of Aloorn. Aloorn played a great and central part in the plague wars. And there is need. The Nanites are here already.'

Arvin, he who would be called the Warmaker, the destroyer of Delaron whose infamy for the burning alive of those in the towers lived on through centuries . . . looked horrified.

'But—we'll contain them! A cure will be found. There'll be no need for violence. The problem can never spread as far as Nartheby.'

Hantis shook her head, sadly. 'This is an intelligent plague. I should have realized before that the historical accounts made no sense. They came here to Nartheby first. We always believed the plague started in the outer realms and was fought, planet by planet, inward to Nartheby. But why would they act in such a mindless manner? Of course the Nanites would have struck for Nartheby first! If they could decapitate the Sprite dominium, the rest would be theirs for the taking.'

She did not say, but did realize, that the strategy she sketched was exactly what the reemergent Nanites had set out to do in the Empire, centuries in the future.

'But . . . do you not know how the plague was fought?' demanded Arvin.

'The records from the plague years are very confused. What I do know—what I was taught, rather—is that High Lord Arvin, he who was called the Warmaker, brutally took control of all Nartheby and isolated her.'

The young High Lord gaped at her. 'I did what?'

'Took control of all Nartheby and isolated her. You went to the council of High Lords and in the Hall of Truce, killed three of the High Lords and their advisors and kinsmen. The three who, besides yourself, were the most powerful. Then made the rest bow to your will.'

'That is mad!'

'I wish it were,' said Hantis sadly. 'I conclude that you must have taken Pul with you, and sniffed out those of the High Lords and those who were Nanite infected, and killed them.'

'Pul?'

'My grik-dog. I believe you breed them.' She raised her eyebrows at him. 'It is one thing history gives you great credit for: breeding grik-dogs that could sniff out Nanite infection. That was how the plague was eventually dealt with, other than in open warfare.'

For the first time there was a slight smile on the face of High Lord Arvin. 'My grik-dogs are bred to smell out truffle-fungus. Their noses are fantastically keen. I've been trying to reduce the toxicity of their bite to make them easier to handle. They're far more intelligent than most people realize.' It was obviously a subject dear to his heart and one he'd rather talk about than the Nanite plague or the domination of all Nartheby.

She smiled at him, too. It appeared that being besotted with the yellow-furred creatures was a hereditary trait. 'Intelligent and loyal, High Lord. My grik-dog is with one of my human companions. Why don't you go and ask Pul to confirm my story?'

He was plainly quite taken with this idea. 'Their speech is a bit limited. It's one of the things I've been working on.'

'I think you will be pleasantly surprised at how well Pul speaks,' said Hantis graciously.

* * *

When High Lord Arvin returned a few minutes later, he had Goth and Pul with him. He bowed. 'High Lady