“I haven’t, Master,” Ulpen protested. “I didn’t do anything!”
“Yet you stopped falling in midair, and the wood did not scatter.”
“It’s definitely magic, Master, but it’s notmine.”
“Nor is it mine.”
“But...” Ulpen looked around uneasily. “We’re the only wizards in North Herris, aren’t we?”
“To the best of my knowledge, we are,” Abdaran agreed. “Nor are there any in South or East Herris. But are we sure that it was wizardry that stopped your fall?”
“No,” Ulpen admitted. “But what, then?”
“You tell me, apprentice,” Abdaran said, switching to his lecturing tone.
Ulpen chewed on his lower lip thoughtfully as he got to his feet and brushed off his breeches. Then he looked at his master. “It might be gods, demons, witchcraft, sorcery, some unknown natural phenomenon, or... well, or something we don’t know about.”
Abdaran smothered a smile. “I would say that covers the possibilities,” he acknowledged. “That last category is perhaps a bit over-inclusive, though.”
Ulpen did not bother responding to that; instead he said, “There aren’t any sorcerers left around here, are there?”
“Not so far as I’m aware. There are four witches in East Herris, but no known sorcerers.”
“Why would the witches have kept me from falling?”
“I can’t imagine how they would know, or why they would bother,” Abdaran replied. “We could ask them.”
That idea did not appeal to Ulpen. Witches could read people’s emotions, sometimes even their thoughts, and that made the apprentice nervous. “I’m sure they meant no harm,” he said.
“And why do you assume it was the witches?” Abdaran asked. “You haven’t eliminated all the other possibilities on your list.”
“Well, we eliminated sorcery...”
“No, we did not,” Abdaran interrupted. “We eliminatedknown sorcerers. There could be someone new in the area, using this as a rather unorthodox introduction, or perhaps a sorcerer has been hiding here all along, or perhaps this was some leftover bit of sorcery from some long-ago spell.” Ulpen considered that as he gathered up the wood. He tossed the first stick into the fire-just barely in time, as the tinder had all but burned away-and said, “But in that case, couldn’t it just as well be some side effect of wizardry? A spell cast a hundred years ago, or a hundred leagues away?”
“Or to be cast at some time in the future,” Abdaran agreed approvingly.
Ulpen threw another stick of wood on the fire as he absorbed that. The idea that a spell that hadn’t been performed yet could somehow affect them was new to him, and he found it hard to think about.
“And gods or demons?” Abdaran prompted.
“Can’t be demons unless there’s a demonologist,” Ulpen said. “The demons were shut out of the World after the Great War, and can’t interfere in human affairs uninvited.”
“There are demonologists in the World, though,” Abdaran said.
“Not aroundhere, are there?” He glanced at his master and saw the satisfied expression of a teacher about to reiterate a favorite point, and quickly added, “That we know of?”
Abdaran let out the breath he had drawn. “Not that we know of,” he said.
“And the gods... well, they do favors for theurgists, but other than that they don’t generally intervene in little things like stumbling over a cat.”
“Not generally,” Abdaran agreed.
“Do you think Sinassa might have asked a god to look after me?” Sinassa the Theurgist lived in South Herris ; Ulpen had met her once when he was very young, when his mother had taken him to have a fever cured, and rumor had it that Abdaran had romanced her briefly many years ago.
“Doyou think so?” Abdaran replied. “Have you paid her to do so, or even asked her?”
“No,” Ulpen said as he threw in more wood. “I haven’t spoken to... blast!” He dropped the rest of the wood and knelt in front of the stove.
He had been careless, and most of the kindling had burned away while he was talking; his latest addition to the fire, rather than adding fuel, had smothered the flame. There were still glowing coals, but he knew those wouldn’t be enough to light the new wood without help. He breathed gently into the stove, trying to coax a new flame.
“Come on, come on,” he muttered to himself. “Comeon!”
A wisp of smoke rose from the little heap of wood, then vanished.
Relighting the fire was not really a serious problem; if all else failed, he could douse it completely and start from scratch, using either flint and steel or Thrindle’s Combustion.
That, however, would be a nuisance and would undoubtedly trigger a long lecture from Abdaran on the necessity of maintaining a proper household and not relying excessively on wizardry for everyday tasks.
If he had had any sulfur at hand he might have surreptitiously worked the Combustion anyway, but the nearest sulfur was in the workshop, and besides, using the Combustion on something that was already burning would produce an explosion. The iron stovemight contain such a blast without damage-but it might not, and blowing the kitchen stove to bits would get him worse than a mere lecture.
He stared at the wood,willing it to burn...
And it did. It flared an eerie, unnatural orange, then smoldered, sizzled, spat sparks, and caught fire.
“What did youdo?” Abdaran said, suddenly close at Ulpen’s side.
“I... I don’tknow!” Ulpen said, staring into the stove.
“It glowed orange,” Abdaran said.
“Yes,” Ulpen agreed, still staring.
“Youdid it somehow, didn’t you, boy?”
Ulpen nodded.
“Can you do it again?” Abdaran handed Ulpen another stick of wood.
Ulpen accepted it with unsteady fingers. He looked at the stick, then looked into the stove.
The fire was burning merrily-not the fragile, uneven flame of a newly lit fire, but a steady blaze, as if it had been burning half an hour; putting the stick in there would be more than enough to light it without any magic.
Instead, Ulpen stood up, backed away, then raised the stick like a torch. He stared at it, andwilled it to burn.
The stick-and hisband —glowed orange; sparks flew, and flame burst from the wood. The sudden heat was far more than he had expected; startled, Ulpen dropped the stick...
And caught it a foot from the floor, without touching it.
“It’syou” Abdaran said. “Something’s enchanted you.”
Ulpen nodded and, still without touching it, flung the burning stick into the stove.
“How did you do that?” Abdaran asked.
“I don’tknow, Master!” Ulpen wailed.“Can’t you tell?”
Abdaran turned up an empty palm. “This is nothingI’ve ever seen before,” he said. “Nor have I read of anything like this, and if my own master ever mentioned it, I either wasn’t listening or forgot it long ago.”
“But... can’t you dosomething? You’re a master wizard!”
Abdaran looked at Ulpen quizzically. “How do you feel?” he said. “I...” Ulpen stopped, considering the question more carefully. “I feel fine, actually.” To his surprise, he realized that he felt better than he had in days. The queasy residue of his nightmares and his usual morning grogginess had both vanished. His unhap-piness was entirely due to the shock of discovering his unexpected abilities, not from any sort of physical discomfort.
“Not tired?”
“No.”
“Then it’s not that you’ve suddenly learned witchcraft-I know from Cardel and Luralla that witches find fire- lighting exhausting.”
“Then it’s not witchcraft,” Ulpen agreed. Aside from being frightening because it was strange, the fire- lighting experience had been more exhilarating than exhausting. “Isn’t there some spell we can use to figure this out? Some divination?”
