the first flight of stairs Sterren changed his mind and at the next landing he turned down the corridor and knocked on the first door.
It opened, and Annara of Crookwall thrust her head around the edge.
“Hello,” she said.
“Hello,” Sterren replied. “May I come in?”
Annara hesitated, glancing back into the room, then swung the door wide and admitted him.
Sterren was not surprised to see Agor, the Imperial Theurgist, sitting on Annara’s bed. They exchanged polite greetings.
At Annara’s direction Sterren found a seat by the window. He settled onto the cushion and then fumbled about, trying to figure out how to ask what he wanted to ask.
Annara offered him a plate of honeyed cashews, and he nibbled on those without speaking, while Agor chatted in his newly acquired and horribly accented Ethsharitic about the delightful weather that Vond had ensured.
Sterren glanced around the room, looking for something that might serve to divert the conversation along the lines he wanted. He noticed a sparkle on a high shelf.
Something shiny was moving up there, he realized.
He squinted.
A coin, a silver bit, was spinning on edge, but he had not seen anyone spin it, and it showed no signs of slowing down as he watched.
“What’s that?” he asked, pointing.
The two magicians followed his finger. Annara said, “It’s a spinning coin.”
“How long has it been spinning?”
“Oh, three or four months,” Annara replied.
“But you haven’t lived here that long!” Sterren said, startled.
“I brought it with me from the castle,” Annara said.
“How could you do that?”
“It’s on a little card that folds up into a box for traveling,” she explained.
“What’s it for? What keeps it spinning?”
“It’s magic,” Agor said.
“I could have guessed that for myself,” Sterren said sarcastically. “I mean, what’s it for?”
“It’s a very simple little spell,” Annara said. “It’s called the Spell of the Spinning Coin.”
“And it just makes a coin spin on forever? That seems pretty pointless.”
“It does do a little more than that,” the wizard admitted. “Emner spun that one, I taught him the spell, as it wasn’t one he knew. It will keep spinning as long as he’s alive. If he’s seriously ill, or badly injured, the spinning will slow down, and it may even wobble a little if it’s very bad. If he dies, it will stop.”
“Oh, I see,” Sterren said. “So you would know if, say, he had been killed by bandits on the way to Akalla.”
Annara and Agor exchanged glances. “It wasn’t the bandits I was worried about,” Annara said.
Sterren nodded. “I suppose not.” He hesitated, then pushed on. He could hardly have realistically hoped for a better opening. “I see it’s still spinning, and he’s been gone for all these months. He must have contacted the Wizards’ Guild by now.”
“Yes,” Annara said, flatly.
“And they haven’t done anything? Have they communicated with you?”
She hesitated, then said, “My lord Sterren, why do you ask?”
Sterren blinked. “I’m curious,” he said.
“You’ll pardon me, my Lord Chancellor, but I’m not sure I care to satisfy your curiosity.”
He had half expected this reaction. “Annara,” he said slowly, “I can understand your caution, but believe me, I’m not going to cause you any trouble.”
“You will forgive me, my Lord Chancellor, if I...”
“Stop calling me that!” Sterren snapped. “I didn’t ask for the stupid title! People keep hanging these silly titles on me, when I was perfectly happy just being Sterren of Ethshar. Look, Annara, I know you’re worried that I’m Vond’s spy, but I’m not his spy, not unless he can read my mind without my knowing it. If he wanted to know something, I suppose he could force it out of you easily enough by torture; you aren’t enough of a wizard to defend yourself against him. Or if you are, you’re also one hell of an actress, because you’ve had me fooled! I can’t force anything out of you, though.” He paused for breath, then continued more calmly, “If you’re worried about which side I’m on, right now I’m not really on any side. I think I know how to either destroy the warlock, or to keep him in power for at least a while longer, and I honestly haven’t decided which I want to do, or whether I should just leave well enough alone. I came here hoping for more information to help me decide. I can’t force it out of you; Vond can. You can tell me now, and if I’m telling the truth it won’t do you any harm, and if I’m lying, Vond can come up here and convince you.”
He stopped, suddenly unsure what he was saying and whether he should be saying it.
Annara threw a look at Agor, then turned back to Sterren and said, “All right, Sterren. I don’t suppose it will do any harm to tell you. I’ve had dreams, dreams where wizards tell me things. Some of them may be ordinary dreams, but I think at least some must have been sent. I don’t always remember them when I wake up; there are tricks to remembering your dreams, and I’m not very good at it. All the same, I think I have an idea what the Guild is doing.”
“Ah,” Sterren said. “What are they doing?”
“Nothing. At least, nothing yet. They’re watching the situation, using scrying spells and prophecies, and that’s all. Oh, and it seems that reports of the events here are somehow not spreading very well, particularly not to warlocks, and those warlocks who do hear about the new power source are being discouraged or diverted in various subtle ways.”
Sterren nodded. “You know, I had begun to wonder why not a single other warlock had turned up.”
“Remember, Vond’s invitations have all emphasized his own supremacy, and warlocks are not prone to play the sycophant. Even without my guildmates interfering, I suspect he would be attracting few converts.”
“True enough,” Sterren acknowledged. He sat for a moment, munching cashews and considering this news.
“So,” he said at last, “is the Guild contemplating any more drastic action?”
“No,” Annara said, after a moment’s hesitation. “At least, not that they’ve told me about. The general noninterference policy seems to be holding good.”
Sterren nodded, and as he did a thought occurred to him. He asked Agor, “What do the gods think about all this?”
The theurgist shrugged. “Like the wizards, they don’t interfere,” he said. “Not since the Great War.”
Sterren accepted that. “One more question,” he said, “and I’ll go.” He looked at the two magicians closely. “For yourselves,” he asked, “do you want Vond removed?”
Annara and Agor looked at each other.
Agor shrugged.
“I don’t know,” Annara said, “I really don’t.”
CHAPTER 32
Five minutes after he left Annara’s room Sterren peered around a drapery into Vond’s audience chamber. The warlock spotted him immediately.
“Ah, Chancellor Sterren!” he called, “Come in! Come in!”
Sterren obeyed, looking curiously about as he did. He had seen the audience chamber before, of course, the rich red draperies down either side, the ornately patterned marble floor, the luxurious red carpet down the center. Twenty-foot-high windows behind the dais let sunlight pour in from the palace’s central courtyard; stained- glass medallions set in the windows painted colors on the floor, and the cut-glass bevels that edged the medallions
