A few seconds later the barrier had reached the corner of West Second Street and pressed on across the intersection. The party paused for a moment. Varrin asked, “Do we turn here? It’s the shortest route.”
“I think it would be more effective, more dramatic, to march down Center Avenue,” Faran replied, pointing east. He started to continue-but then realized Rudhira had turned, ignoring his words.
“Rudhira!” he called.“This way!”
Rudhira shook her head, her red hair flying up wildly, as if a great wind were blowing around her-but the air inside the barrier was still unnaturally calm. “It’s calling,” she said. Hanner realized that her feet were no longer on the ground. “I can hear it. I can feel it. I can almostsee it!” She was drifting northward along West Second Street, rising slowly, leaving the others behind. The barrier was splitting in two-one section, centered on Lord Faran and the others, remained motionless, while the other was pressing clear a swath down the center of West Second Street. Beyond it a disorganized crowd of soldiers and civilians watched in confusion; some turned to run, while others stood their ground. “Rudhira, wait!” Kirsha called.“What is calling?”
“I hear it, too,” Varrin said.
“But whatis it?” Kirsha demanded. “We don’tknow! It might be something evil, something luring us in!”
The others were standing indecisively, and Hanner could take no more; he ran after Rudhira, calling her name.
She was well above the ground now; he jumped, and his hand brushed her foot, knocking off one green shoe. She didn’t even look down; instead she began flying faster and higher, calling, “I’m coming!”
Hanner stopped, out of breath, and watched Rudhira’s flying form dwindle with distance as she soared upward and northward, faster and faster, until she vanished above the rooftops of Spice-town.
The barrier that had cleared much of West Second Street vanished as well, and when Hanner lowered his gaze from the northern sky he saw half a dozen guardsmen advancing toward him, spears at ready.
“Oh, no,” he said, backing up.
He didn’t want to run; it was undignified to run away from one’s enemies. He backed away, and the soldiers advanced. One of them kicked aside Rudhira’s dropped shoe.
Then they stopped, as if they had just smacked into an invisible wall.
“This way, Lord Hanner,” Kirsha called.
Hanner turned.
The four remaining warlocks were still standing in the intersection, waiting for him. He tried to pretend nothing disturbing had happened as he walked back to join them.
“She’s gone,” Yorn said, staring northward.
“I know,” Hanner said. “Why didn’t the rest of you try to stop her?”
“Idid” Kirsha said. “Didn’t you feel it? But she was always far stronger than me.”
Hanner looked at Varrin.
“I didn’t,” he said quietly.
Faran turned, startled. “Why not? Maybe with the two of you...”
“I was maintaining the barrier, my lord-forgive me, but you aren’t strong enough to have done it yourself.” He hesitated, then added, “And besides, I couldn’t have stopped her. If I had tried, I’d have gonewith her. And I’m not ready yet.”
“Not ready? Gone with her?” Hanner could see that Uncle Faran was trying to restrain his fury. “What are youtalking about?” “You haven’t felt it yet, my lord?” Varrin asked. “The Calling?”
Hanner had heard Rudhira talking about a calling, but listening to Varrin he knew the warlock meantthe Calling, something new and special.
“Felt what?” Faran said.
“Uncle,” Hanner said, looking around, “maybe we should go back to the house.”
“No!” Faran said angrily. “Yes, Rudhira has deserted us, but look!” He swept an arm around. “We still have the power to hold off the entire city guard!”
“But if Varrin hears this Calling...”
Faran and Hanner both turned to look at Varrin.
“I hear it,” Varrin said. “I can still resist. But, my lord, the more I use my magic, the stronger the Calling becomes. If I do too much...”
“I hear it, too,” Kirsha said. “But it’s still weak for me.”
“Uncle, it’s the strongest warlocks who feel it the most,” Hanner said. “The ones you need the most if you try to take the Palace.”
“I didn’t say I was going totake the Palace,” Faran said quickly. “I intend to negotiate with Lord Azrad, not depose him.” Magical energy crackled somewhere nearby; Faran turned and said, “Kirsha, you concentrate on the wizards, please. The rest of you, hold the soldiers back.”
“Why do weneed to negotiate?” Hanner asked. “Why not just wait him out? You’ve shown he can’t hurt you.”
“No, we haven’t,” Faran said, his voice dropping. “We’ve shown he can’t just march in with his soldiers and take us, but what’s to stop him from hiring wizards to kill us in our beds? We need to make an agreementnow, in public, so he can’t change his mind.”
“What if the Wizards’ Guild took our side?Then he couldn’t hire wizards...”
“Demonologists, then. They have no Guild telling them what to do. I don’t care to wake up one night to find a slimy horror from the Nethervoid sitting on my chest about to eat my face. No, we need to settle thisnow. Azrad’s apparently called out the entire guard, and when that doesn’t work, magichas to be next.”
“If the Wizards’ Guild-” Hanner began.
Faran cut him off. “Hanner, the Guild isn’t going to help us in time, if they help us at all. If they were going to, Ithinia would have spoken to me by now. I have the talking talisman in my purse, and it’s been silent. We’re on our own, and we need to force an agreement from Azradnow.”
“I agree, my lord,” Yorn said, startling Hanner; he hadn’t realized that several of the other warlocks had gathered around Faran and himself and were listening intently. “Timing is the key to control, Lieutenant Kensher always said-the best time to stop a fight is before it begins.”
“I think this one’s already started,” Faran said, “but there’s still time to keep it from getting worse.”
“But we lost Rudhira,” Kirsha said, glancing north.
“Another reason to hurry,” Faran said, throwing Varrin a quick look. “Before we lose anyone else to this Calling, whatever it is.”
“I still think it’s foolish, Uncle,” Hanner said. “Twenty or thirty warlocks against an entire city?”
“We work with what we have,” Faran replied. “Now, come on!” He turned east, and gestured dramatically. “Onward to the Palace!”
Chapter Thirty-five
The march to the Palace seemed so strange to Hanner as to be almost unreal-an unruly gang of warlocks, of all ages, all sizes, and both sexes, dressed in everything from Lord Faran’s best silk tunic and green velvet cloak to Zarek’s ragged homespun, walking down High Street and Center Avenue as if no one else was present, while a few yards away yellow-tunicked soldiers and assorted civilians stood screaming and struggling, trying to hold their ground against the steady advance of the wall of warlockry. They were all forced back, some staying upright, others tumbling to the ground.
A few soldiers tried to get under the invisible barrier, without success.
A few wizards tried to levitateover the barrier, which might have been more successful, but rising out of the crowd made them immediately visible, and Kirsha or Varrin slapped each one down.
Desset had abandoned her post on the corner of Coronet Street not long after Rudhira’s disappearance; trying to keep the entire route clear was obviously impractical. She and a few others were still acting as a rear guard, but were now only about a hundred feet behind Faran and the others. A few guardsmen and civilians had come around behind and were following the warlocks, just beyond Desset’s retreating barrier.
