“I suspected as much,” Sterren acknowledged.
“Well, it’s so,” Emner said. “She told me, as a fellow Guild member. Naturally, I was curious about how she came to be reduced to that, and she was glad to have a chance to discuss her situation with a fellow wizard. It seems that although she is a true wizard, served the full apprenticeship required by the Guild, and was initiated into the Guild’s mysteries, she never managed to master more than a handful of simple spells. Her master only knew a dozen or so, and she found herself unable to manage some of those, including the ones that provided most of his small income. The spells she did learn, well, they’re real enough, and they have their places, but they aren’t exactly marketable. There isn’t any demand for them, as a rule. And I can’t see how they could be of any use at all in the present situation.”
“You didn’t think your own could help, at first. Perhaps I should ask Annara directly; after all, she’s surely more familiar with the possibilities of her magic than you are.”
Emner shrugged. “Maybe. We’ve agreed to trade spells and better both our positions, but to be honest, I think I agreed to that as much from pity as from my own self-interest. Her spells... Well, for instance, what use is there to an invisibility spell that only works on transparent objects?”
“Transparent objects?”
“Yes, transparent. Water, ice, glass, and so on.”
Sterren nodded. “I see your point. It’s an interesting idea, though, that invisibility spell. What if you were to make weapons out of glass, and then enchant them?”
Emner considered that. “I’m not sure how it works, but you’re right, that might be interesting. Hard to parry a glass sword, I suppose, but easy to break one.”
“I was thinking of glass arrows. You wouldn’t know where they’re coming from.”
Emner nodded slowly.
“Well,” Sterren said, after a moment’s silent thought, “that’s not doing us any good right now, is it? We don’t have a glassmaker’s oven at hand. Thank you for your help, wizard, and if you would go back and send me the warlock, I’d appreciate it.”
Emner bowed slightly in acknowledgment, then trotted back to the wagon and hauled himself back aboard. A moment later the warlock strode up beside Sterren. He wore a heavy black cloak and hood against the rain, and had it pulled well forward, hiding his face completely. Sterren found himself speaking to an oval of black shadow.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Terrible,” the warlock replied, through clenched teeth.
“Oh?” The warlock had been complaining of headaches and constant fatigue since the third day aboard ship. He had also taken to sleeping long hours, he was always the first to retire at night and the last to awaken. The morning after leaving Akalla he had to be hoisted into the wagon still half asleep and had almost fallen out twice since then.
But at least, Sterren thought, there had been no sign of nightmares.
“My head feels as if it’s going to burst.”
“Oh.” Sterren made a sympathetic noise. “Ah... are you aware of the situation here?”
“No.”
Sterren waited for a moment, expecting him to go on.
“No?” he said at last.
“No. Should I be?”
“I think so, yes.”
“All right, then, what’s the situation?”
“Well, over there is Semma Castle, which is what we all came here to defend. And all around it there appear to be campfires and what look like tents, sentries, siege machinery, and so forth. What’s more, judging by this house behind us and the others we passed in the last league or two, the peasants in the area appear to have fled their homes. I would assume that what we see here are the armies of Ophkar and Ksinallion, besieging the castle, but I am not actually certain of that. I called you up here in hopes you might be able to help me settle the matter.”
“You want to know if those are really the armies you think they are?”
Sterren nodded. “That’s right.”
The warlock snorted. “How the hell should I know?” he demanded.
“You’re a warlock, aren’t you?” Sterren asked calmly.
“That’s right, I’m a warlock, I’m not a damned mind-reading witch, or a wizard with a scrying spell, or a sorcerer with a crystal ball, or a theurgist with a god whispering in my ear, or even a demonologist with an imp to run my errands! I can do things, or I could back in Ethshar, anyway, but I don’t have any way of knowing any more about what’s out there than you do.”
“Do you have any way of finding out? Could you fly over and take a look around, perhaps?”
The warlock was silent for a long moment, the only sounds the patter of the rain and the snuffling of the horses a dozen paces away.
“I don’t know,” he said at last. “I know how to fly, certainly, but I’m so weak here...” He took two steps away, then stood, arms raised, hood thrown back, face up.
He seemed to shudder, from his head right down to his muddy boots; his cloak flapped suddenly, although there was no more wind than a moment before.
Then he toppled over backward into the mud.
Sterren hesitated, then decided against lending aid.
The warlock got to his feet under his own power, then glared at Sterren and shook his head.
“No,” he said, “I can’t fly here.”
Sterren nodded. “All right,” he said. He turned back to face the rest of the party, where the others had watched the warlock’s pratfall in puzzled silence.
“We’ll stay here until morning!” he called, first in Ethsharitic, and then in Semmat, pointing at the empty farmhouse.
“Then what?” Lady Kalira called back to him.
Sterren glanced over his shoulder at the dozens of campfires that ringed the castle. “Then we find out who those people are,” he said. “And if they’re the enemy?” Lady Kalira demanded.
“Then,” Sterren said, “we attack!”
CHAPTER 19
Shenna’s shriek awoke Sterren from a sound slumber; he sat up quickly, looking around for the source of the scream.
Everyone else was roused as well, and the other two witches reached her first. After an exchange too quick for spoken words, Hamder turned and called, “Sterren! Shenna says that someone was prowling around the house we’re in, and saw us!”
Sterren was still not really thinking. “Who was it?” he asked.
“I don’t know!” Shenna replied. “I didn’t see him.”
“Then how do you know he was there?” Annara asked.
“I had wards set, and he tripped one, wizard!”
“Well, if he didn’t know we were here before, he certainly does now, the way you screamed,” Emner said.
Ederd and Hamder frowned at that; Shenna chose to ignore it. Sterren said nothing, but mentally filed it away for future reference that the witches and the wizards did not appear to like each other much. He wasn’t sure if it was a personal matter, or something inherent in the two arcane disciplines.
“Did anyone else have any wards, or other spells, set to warn us of intruders?” Sterren asked.
“I don’t even know what wards are,” Annara announced.
“I wouldn’t brag about it,” Ederd snapped.
