The Unwelcome Warlock

the Warlock? What are you doing here?”

“I’m looking for my...for Mavi of Newmarket.”

“Why? What do you want with my wife?”

Hanner stopped breathing.

He had not wanted to believe what Ithinia had said, that Mavi had remarried, but here her new husband was, standing before him.

After all, Hanner had been gone for seventeen years, and it had been settled long ago that Called warlocks were legally dead. He could hardly expect a wonderful woman like Mavi to remain a lonely widow.

And there she was, staring at him over her new husband’s shoulder, not saying anything, her face seventeen years older than he remembered it.

Hanner let out his breath. “I was her first husband,” he said. “The father of her children.”

“No, you aren’t that Hanner,” Terrin said, frowning. “He was Called years ago.”

“Yes, I was,” Hanner agreed. “But now I’m back. The Source is gone, and all the Called warlocks are coming home.”

“It’s really Hanner,” Mavi said from behind Terrin. She raised the candle for a better view. “It really is him. He hasn’t aged a day.”

“About three days, actually,” Hanner said. “Three very long days. Or maybe four or five, if you count the time it took me to reach Aldagmor — part of it is a bit hazy.”

Terrin threw his wife a glance, then turned his attention back to Hanner. “I heard rumors, but I didn’t believe them,” he said. “I knew something was wrong with the warlocks, but I didn’t know the Called were coming back.”

“The source of all the warlocks’ power...went away,” Hanner said, waving a hand. “That means no more warlocks, and it released everyone it had Called. It hadn’t killed us, just trapped us, and it let us go. So here I am.” Then he remembered his companion. “Here we are,” he said, gesturing to take in Rudhira.

“Who is that?” Mavi asked, craning to see.

“Rudhira of Camptown,” Rudhira answered. “We’ve met, but you might not remember — it’s been more than thirty years, for you.”

“Rudhira? But you were Called ages ago! And you don’t look any older!”

“The Warlock Stone was protected by a preserving spell,” Hanner said. “Anyone caught in it didn’t age; for me, the last seventeen years didn’t happen. For Rudhira, it’s thirty-four; last she knew we hadn’t even formed the Council of Warlocks, and Azrad the Sedentary was still the overlord.”

“This isn’t real,” Mavi moaned. “It can’t be. You’re some shape-shifting demon, come to torment me, or some wizard’s illusion.”

“I hadn’t intended to torment you at all,” Hanner protested. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“After seventeen years? Hanner, I waited for two years, just in case you found a way to escape the Calling, or in case that refuge of yours did something, but I had to get on with my life. I met Terrin when he did some work on the house, and...and you were dead, we thought.”

“I understand,” Hanner said. “I’m not angry at all; seriously, I do understand. You had every right to remarry; in fact, I’m glad you weren’t alone all those years. But I’m back now.”

“But I’m married.”

“You’re married to both of us, Mavi.”

“I’m not interested in sharing, warlock,” Terrin growled.

Hanner stared at him. “It wouldn’t be my preference, either,” he said. “But here we are.”

“No, no,” Mavi said. She glanced at Rudhira. “No, I’m sorry, Hanner, but I can’t pretend the last seventeen years didn’t happen. Besides, even before you flew away, you were...we were....” She swallowed, then continued, “You were distracted. I never saw you.”

“I was trying to resist the Calling,” Hanner said, trying to keep calm.

“You were pulling away from me,” Mavi said. “And I let you go. And...now I’m seventeen years older, and you aren’t. It’s...it’s not right, Hanner. You can’t just reappear and reclaim me. Our marriage ended seventeen years ago, and now Terrin is my husband.”

Hanner bit his lip, fighting back tears. “You don’t want me back?”

“No, I don’t.” There was an edge of hysteria to her voice that had a perversely calming effect on Hanner’s own raw nerves.

For a long moment, no one spoke. Then Hanner said, “What about the children?”

“They’re still your children,” Mavi said. “They’re grown now, of course.”

“What’s happened to them?”

Mavi and Terrin exchanged glances. “Faran owns an antiquities shop in the Old City,” Mavi said. “He and Sadra have four little girls. Arris has a bakery in Fishertown; she’s married to Thurin the Ferryman. They have a boy, Hanner Thurin’s son.”

“They named him for me?” Hanner said, absurdly surprised and pleased.

“Yes, they did. He’s nine.”

“What about Hala?”

Mavi managed an uncertain smile. “We apprenticed her to her Aunt Alris.”

“Alris?” Hanner blinked in surprise. “Isn’t Alris a little... No, I suppose she isn’t, anymore.” He had been going to suggest she was too young to be taking an apprentice, since the only reason for someone in her position to do so would be to train her own successor, but he had once again forgotten the difference those lost years would make.

“Who is Alris?” Rudhira asked.

“Lady Alris,” Mavi said. “Hanner’s sister. She’s the overlord’s Lady of the Household; she oversees the palace staff.”

“And Lady Hala is her assistant,” Terrin said proudly. “The palace servants are terrified of her.”

Hanner tried to take this in, but it was too much, too fast. His wife had rejected him, his children were grown, and he had half a dozen grandchildren he had never met. His daughter was working for his sister in the overlord’s palace? Last Hanner had seen of her she wasn’t yet big enough for long skirts, and spent half her time running shrieking through or around Warlock House, playing fanciful games with her friends and siblings.

And this stranger who had taken his wife — Hanner could hear the pride in his stepdaughter, in Hanner’s daughter, in his voice.

“Hanner?” Rudhira asked. “Are you all right?”

Hanner realized he had been standing motionless on the step, trembling silently, for several seconds.

“I’m fine,” he said. “I...I’ll be fine.”

I faced down a hundred-foot dragon a couple of days ago, Hanner told himself. I can face this.

“Yes, well,” Terrin said. “I think you should go now.”

“But...go where? I was hoping...” He stopped. He had hoped to stay with Mavi, but that obviously wasn’t going to happen; this was Terrin’s house, not his.

“Lady Alris could probably find you a room in the palace,” Terrin suggested.

“Or you could stay with Nerra,” Mavi said. “She and Emner have that big house, and Emner the Younger and Kelder have both moved out now.”

These were both reasonable suggestions on their face, but the idea of wading through palace bureaucracy at this hour, or walking all the way to his brother-in-law’s mansion on Extravagance Street in the New Merchants’ Quarter, was more than Hanner could cope with. The events of the last several days all seemed to be catching up with him at once, overwhelming and exhausting him.

“Or Warlock House,” Terrin said. “Even if you aren’t really a warlock anymore.”

“They still have some of your things in storage there,” Mavi added. “I’m sure they can find a bed for you and Rudhira.” She did not look at the redhead.

“Beds,” Rudhira corrected. “Not a bed; beds.”