“Yes, we could,” he said, “but that would be trespassing. In a wizard’s house.”
“Oh...” Ulpen began-but just then the door opened, and Serem looked out at his two guests.
“Oh, it’s you, Manrin,” he said. “Do you have any word of Gita?”
Manrin was caught completely off guard by the question. “What?” he asked.
“My wife,” Serem said. “Gita. She’s missing.”
“Oh,” Manrin said. He swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. “Since the night before last?”
“That’s right.” Serem sighed. “Then that’s not why you’re here?”
“Not exactly, no.” He added, “My daughter Ferris is missing as well. I hope they’re safe.”
“So do I,” Serem said. He stood aside. “Come in, and tell me why youare here.”
Manrin and Ulpen were ushered into the parlor, where Ulpen stared at the potted palm that endlessly fanned the big wicker chair.
Manrin had seen it countless times before and ignored it as he said, “Weare here about the results of the Night of Madness,” he said, “though not about poor Gita. I hadn’t realized she was one of those who vanished.”
“She was,” Serem said. “Stolen by those damned warlocks, probably.”
Ulpen threw Manrin a worried glance at that. Manrin, whose confidence and enthusiasm had already taken blows from both the necessity of walking the three long blocks from Gate Street to knock at Serem’s front door like an ordinary customer and the discovery that Gita was among the hundreds who had disappeared, decided that a direct request that Serem perform a divination to ascertain that Manrin and Ulpen were indeed warlocks and that that was the cause of their difficulties in performing wizardry was out of the question, at least for the moment.
They couldn’t just turn around and leave, though. And the subject of the disappearances was of considerable importance.
“I hadn’t thought it was the warlocks who took Ferris-” Manrin began.
“Who else could it be?” Serem interrupted angrily. “The warlocks appeared, hundreds of innocent people disappeared-I think there’s clearly a connection.”
“Oh, I suppose there’s a connection, but I don’t see that the warlocks are necessarily at fault. We really don’tknow what happened.”
“Idon’t, certainly, but someone probably does,” Serem said. “I’d hoped it was you, and you’d come to tell me about it.”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Then you just came to compare notes?” Serem asked. “I’ve been doing that-I talked to Kendrik and Perinan and Ithinia, and one of Zerrea’s servants.” He glanced at Ulpen as if suddenly realizing that he didn’t recognize the youth, and asked, “Who is this?”
“This is Ulpen of North Herris,” Manrin said. “He came to Ethshar to discuss the situation in his home village-they hadn’t realized that the Night of Madness had been so widespread.”
“It seems to have beeneverywhere” Serem said. “Though it was worse some places than others. Apparently the Baronies of Sardiron were hit harder than we were, and in Aldagmor entire villages were reportedly depopulated. The survivors have been seeking shelter elsewhere, bringing the news.”
“How are they dealing with it?” Manrin asked.
“The Council of Barons is meeting in Sardiron of the Waters in a sixnight to discuss the matter, and meanwhile some of them are putting to death every warlock they catch-which strikes me as a good idea.”
Ulpen went pale, but Serem was looking at Manrin, not at the apprentice, and didn’t notice. The Guildmaster hid his own reaction.
Serem continued, “Ithinia says Lord Azrad wants the warlocks exterminated, and Ederd is debating exile- but exiling them is just pushing the problem on someone else, so he may well come around to hanging the lot of them, too.”
That meant, Manrin thought, that he and Ulpen would not be welcome in two of the three cities in the Hegemony. “What about Lord Wulran?” he asked.
“Dithering,” Serem said. “Hardly a surprise. He’s had less than three years as overlord-this is the first real crisis he’s faced since his father died. And Ethshar of the Rocks apparently didn’t suffer anywhere near as badly as the other two cities, so he doesn’t have the same urgency.”
Manrin nodded. “Execution seems a bitdrastic” he said mildly. “After all, not all the warlocks committed any crimes, and they have family and friends...”
“Ithinia mentioned that,” Serem said. “In fact, she says that Lord Faran, Azrad’s chief advisor, brought it to her attention. Apparently he’s gathered a party of warlocks he says haven’t hurt anyone, and is speaking on their behalf. For myself, I still think they’re all involved in the disappearances somehow. Until I see Gita again, I’m not inclined to be merciful.”
Ulpen threw Manrin a look, and Manrin stroked his beard thoughtfully.
He had lived in Ethshar of the Sands for eighty-some years, since he was only a journeyman, but if Lord Ederd was considering exiling or hanging warlocks it might be time to leave, and Serem’s news suggested an obvious destination. Talking to other warlocks, comparing notes, might be very useful, and having Lord Faran’s protection would be welcome. Manrin had not visited Ethshar of the Spices for almost thirty years, so he had never met Lord Faran, but the man’s reputation for energetic leadership was known throughout the Hegemony.
The next question was how to get there, given that his wizardry was unreliable. The journey by ordinary methods would take at least a sixnight, and the delay might be dangerous.
Manrin knew warlocks could fly, at least some of them, but he didn’t know yet whetherhe could fly, especially for a distance as great as the forty leagues to Ethshar of the Spices.
And flying openly might attract unwanted attention-though of course, as a wizard, he could always lie about how he was doing it.
Another method of travel would be a good idea-and as a Guildmaster, he saw an obvious possibility.
It was slightly risky, since he had no idea what his superiors in the Guild thought of warlocks, or whether they had developed any easy methods for recognizing them. Serem apparently hadn’t noticed anything different about Manrin, or seen anything unusual about Ulpen-but Serem was distracted by the loss of his wife, and was not the most perceptive wizard in the World.
Still, Manrin thought, using the Guild’s transportation methods would be fastest and easiest. “You know, I think I’d like to speak to Ithinia,” he said. “In fact, I think I’d like to visit her, in Ethshar of the Spices. Does Perinan still have the tapestry in his attic?”
“Of course,” Serem said.
“In that case,” Manrin said, “I think we had better be going.” He bowed. “Our thanks for your help.” “But you just got here!” Serem protested. “Could I get you a cup of tea before you go? Some grapes?”
Manrin held up a hand. “No, no. Thank you, but we really must go. We were just stopping by to see how you were faring in all this.”
Baffled, Serem turned up a palm. “If you must,” he said.
Five minutes later Manrin and Ulpen were hurrying south on Wizard Street, through sparse and nervous crowds. “We’ll stop at my house,” Manrin said. “I want to fetch a few things. Did you bring anything at all with you?”
“Not much,” Ulpen said. “I’m just an apprentice, after all-”
“You’re something rather different now, I would say,” Manrin interrupted. “And whatever you are, I want you to have everything you brought with you when we use the tapestry. I’m not sure we’ll be coming back.”
“I don’t understand,” Ulpen said, struggling to keep up-Manrin was old, but he still walked fast enough to give Ulpen a challenge. “What tapestry? Come back from where? What’s going on?”
They had reached Manrin’s own front door; there he pulled Ulpen into the tiny portico and said, “Perinan has a Transporting Tapestry-anyone who touches it is instantly transported to a shop in Ethshar of the Spices, in the neighborhood they call the Old City. We are going to use it to get ourselves out of this city. You heard Serem-he thinks warlocks murdered his wife, so he wants us exterminated, and thinks Ederd can be convinced to hang us all. I don’t think it was warlocks who made poor Gita disappear, but he’s probably right about Ederd.”
“But he said Lord Azrad wanted to kill us all, too! Isn’t Azrad the overlord of Ethshar of the Spices? Shouldn’t we be going somewhere else? What about that Wulran person?”
“Wulran II is overlord of Ethshar of the Rocks,” Manrin said. “And while his city may be safer now, if the
