and turned around she saw Oria approaching.
The two waved to each other, and after Oria had disposed of her own burden the two young women settled on the bench by old Skig’s chicken coop, in the shade of an ancient gum tree, to talk.
The conversation stayed very light at first-the usual exchange of rumors about who might be pregnant, whose marriage might be in trouble, and the like. Anything more interesting would be saved until the others had arrived.
But then Thetta arrived-almost running. “What’s wrong?” Oria asked her as Thetta hurried up to the bench.
“Did you hear about Pancha?” Thetta asked as she squeezed onto the end of the bench beside Oria.
“What about her?” Mavi asked. Pancha was Aniara’s slightly older half sister.
“She’s a warlock!”
“You’re joking!” Oria said, shocked.
Mavi, who had spent the previous day practically surrounded by warlocks, was less surprised-especially since Aniara had mentioned the day before that Pancha had been one of the people who woke up screaming about a nightmare.
Pancha hadn’t run out into the street smashing windows, though.
“Is she all right?” Mavi asked.
“Aniara? Oh, she’s upset, but...”
“I meant Pancha.”
“Oh.” Thetta looked confused for a moment, then said, “I guess so. They’ve locked her in her room and sent for a priest.”
“A priest? A theurgist? Why?”
“To try to cure her, of course!” Thetta said, leaning forward to look past Oria at Mavi.
“Is Aniara all right?” Oria asked.“She isn’t a warlock, is she?”
“She says she isn’t,” Thetta said, “and she seems to be holding up, but she’s not leaving the house until the theurgist is done.”
“She won’t be here this morning, then?” Mavi asked.
“No,” Thetta said. “I thought we might go by there later to comfort her, though.”
“Oh, we should,” Oria agreed. She shuddered. “Her own sister a warlock! How dreadful.”
“Oh, warlocks aren’t really so terrible,” Mavi said.
“How would you know?” Thetta asked.
Mavi smiled and began explaining how she had spent the previous day. The others were suitably impressed.
“Maybe you should tell Pancha about that house full of warlocks,” Oria said thoughtfully when Mavi had finished.
“They’re going to cure her!” Thetta protested. “If they can,” Mavi said. “I don’t know whether youcan cure warlocks.”
“Why don’t we go see?” Oria asked, getting to her feet. “Just let me put a few things away...”
The others quickly agreed, and half an hour later the three of them were in Aniara’s parlor, talking to Aniara and her mother, pretending not to listen to the chanting faintly audible from upstairs.
“I hope it works,” Aniara said, looking up the stairs.
“It’s not really so horrible, being a warlock,” Mavi said. “Some of the people at Lord Faran’s house seemed almost proud of it. And it must be handy sometimes, being able to do magic like that.”
Aniara shuddered. “It’screepy” she said. “What if she goes mad, like those others, and starts breaking things? Or what if people start disappearing around her? What if...”
Just then the daylight seemed almost to flicker, and Mavi and the others felt a sudden pressure.
Mavi swallowed. “I think the theurgist’s invocation worked,” she said. The notion that there was an actual god-or at least a partial manifestation of one-in Pancha’s room upstairs made her at least as nervous as the houseful of warlocks had.
“I wonder which god he was summoning?” Oria asked, glancing at the stairs.
“I remember that when Diriel was sick, the priestess summoned Blukros,” Thetta said. “She said Blukros was god of healing.”
“I’m not sure warlockry is something that needs healing,” Mavi said doubtfully. She glanced at Aniara’s mother-Pancha’s mother, as well-who was sitting in the rocking chair in the corner, rocking steadily in unhappy silence.
The five women did not speak for a moment after that; the knowledge of a god’s presence was affecting them all, in various ways. At last Aniara said, “Mavi, tell me more about what Lord Faran said!”
Welcoming the distraction, Mavi began a detailed account of Lord Faran’s actions the previous day. She had gotten to his sorcerous conversation with the wizard Ithinia when the air suddenly stirred, and an invisible pressure seemed to be lifted from the room.
All eyes turned to the stairs.
“It must be over,” Oria said.
A moment later they all heard the sound of a door opening and of Pancha snuffling; then the theurgist came slowly down the stairs, straightening his white robe.
“What happened?” Aniara asked, leaping to her feet.
The theurgist took a deep breath, then said, “I consulted the goddess Unniel the Discerning, and I’m afraid the results are not what you hoped for.” “What do you mean?”
The theurgist sighed. “I mean the goddess could not even recognize your sister as human.” Before anyone could respond, he raised a hand and continued. “This isn’t as significant as it sounds-the gods see things differently than we do, and often don’t perceive magicians other than theurgists as human. There are some people they can’t see at all; we don’t know why, and they have never managed to explain it in ways we can understand. Unniel could see Pancha, but not as a human being; she said Pancha was a thing she had no Ethsharitic word for.”
Aniara made a strangled noise.
“Unniel could not tell me anything useful about this magic,” the theurgist said. “She could not remove it, and assured me no other god or demon could. She said it was unlikely that any other magic could reverse Pancha’s transformation, due to something she called anursettor fwal in Pancha’s brain, but reminded me that even the gods don’t understand wizardry or know exactly what it can and cannot do.”
“So she’s still a warlock?” Aniara’s mother demanded. Mavi turned, startled, to see that the older woman had stopped rocking and was staring intently at the priest.
“Yes, she’s still a warlock,” the theurgist replied. “There’s nothing more I can do about it.”
“I don’t want a warlock in my house,” the old woman said.
“Mother, she’s your own daughter!” Aniara said.
“Not anymore,” her mother said. “You heard the priest-she’s not even human anymore! She’s athing that used to be my daughter.”
“I didn’t say...” the theurgist began.
“Human or not, she might go berserk at any time,” the old woman said. “Did any of you hear about the house in Seacorner where Varrin the Weaver smashed the entire top floor in an instant? He almost crushed his own wife!”
The other women looked at one another.
“Please, Mother, this is her home,” Aniara said. “Where else would she go?”
Mavi immediately knew what would happen then, and sure enough, Thetta and Oria turned to look at her. Pancha’s mother pointed at her, and Aniara turned as well.
The puzzled theurgist also looked at Mavi, simply because everyone else did.
“All right,” Mavi said. “I can take her there.” That this would not only be a kindness to Pancha but would give her another chance to see Lord Hanner did not escape her.
“May I ask where?” the theurgist said.
“You explain,” Aniara said, heading for the stairs. “I’ll go help Pancha pack.” As Tanna the Thief worked the crowd in the plaza, cutting purses from people’s belts and slipping them into her own shoulder bag, she was still trying to decide who she should tell about Elken-if anyone. Her original intention in coming here had been to warn
