The Unwelcome Warlock

“A wizard has just tried to frighten me with a lying dream,” Vond announced, his voice unnaturally loud. “I believe the Wizards’ Guild is trying to intimidate me, and I don’t intend to allow it. I am about to go express my displeasure to their Guildmaster, Ithinia of the Isle, and to Lord Azrad, the overlord of this city. If you don’t want to be involved, this would be a good time to leave and never come back — leave not just this house, but the city. If you want to stand with me, and support me in my defiance of the Guild, then stay — I may be able to use your help. And if you serve me well, I do know how to turn you back into warlocks — not using your old source, that’s gone, but using the same source I have. Show me you’re loyal, show me I can trust you, and you can join me as new warlocks, unfettered by any Calling. If not — go now, while you can.”

“But the wizards helped us —” a woman standing by the stair rail began.

She was interrupted by a sudden movement as she was snatched upward, flung upward until her back pressed against the ceiling.

“They didn’t help me,” Vond roared. “If you think they care about you, then go to them. They just tried to scare me out of using my magic! They’re afraid of me, and I’m going to show them they have good reason to be.”

Kirris heard a door slam open somewhere downstairs, and Vond rose from the landing until he was face to face with his terrified captive.

“Are you with me?” he demanded. “Or are you with them? This is the confrontation between wizards and warlocks we’ve all been expecting ever since the Night of Madness, and it’s time for you to choose sides. Choose now, woman!”

“I don’t...I don’t want any trouble!” the woman said, trembling.

“Then you’re in the wrong place!” Vond bellowed, and his prisoner suddenly plummeted down the stairwell, swooping out of Kirris’ line of sight — not falling, though, but flying, and Kirris did not hear a thump or crash, only a scream that faded with distance.

Then the door she had heard open a moment before slammed shut, cutting off the woman’s cry of fear.

When the screaming stopped, Vond turned his attention to the others. “Choose now,” he said. “Anyone who is still in this house when I get back is mine. Loyalty will be rewarded, and disobedience — well, I don’t have time to be bothered with pleas and forgiveness and second chances, or enforcing a lot of different rules and handing out different punishments. It’s going to be absolutely simple: Disobey me, and you’ll die.”

“You can really make us warlocks again?” a man asked.

“Yes,” Vond said. “Yes, I can. I’ve done it once.”

Kirris watched as some of the others looked about nervously. They obviously wanted proof that Vond could do what he claimed, but no one dared ask for it. She wondered whether he really had already done it once, and if so, to whom? Where was this other new warlock? She was sure several other people were thinking exactly the same questions, but no one had the nerve to speak them aloud.

And if it was true, if he really could create more warlocks, would he?

If he did, if there were a hundred warlocks drawing on the power of whatever it was in Lumeth that gave him his magic, what would that do to the towers that Ithinia had been worried about? Quite aside from that, how much damage would they do? If two of them fought, with no Calling to limit them, they could lay waste to an entire city. If the stories about Vond were true, if he really had once bent the edge of the World, a hundred such warlocks could destroy everything.

Kirris could not allow that. She had been thinking her part in this was done, but now she knew she had more to do. She could not defeat Vond, but perhaps she could prevent the creation of more warlocks.

“You think about it,” Vond said. “You think about it, and decide — are you with me, or not? You have until I get back.” Then he dropped away from the ceiling, and like his victim of a moment before, swooped down the stairs and out of sight.

For a moment there was only stunned silence, but then the people in the corridor began to mutter to one another. Several of them cast worried glances down the stairs.

“I don’t trust him,” Kirris said, reversing her spell so that instead of going unnoticed, she would be the center of attention. “You heard how power-mad he is; do you really think he’d ever let any of us share in that? He’s never going to make any of us warlocks again. I don’t think he even can. He’ll just lead us on with promises, use us as slaves, and probably get us all killed. I mean, yes, he’s powerful, but he wants to fight the entire Wizards’ Guild! That’s insane! I say we should all get out of here while we still can.”

“She’s right,” a young man said.

“But I want my magic back!” someone protested.

“He’s not going to give it to you!” Kirris insisted, using her magic to make her words more persuasive. “If he really did make someone else into this new kind of warlock, where is he? Why not show us? It’s all lies. He’s trying to trick us; he can’t do it.”

Several voices spoke at once. “I don’t know...”

“What if he...”

“Maybe we should...”

But then they all fell silent, and every eye turned to stare at the stairs as Vond reappeared, rising up from below, his robe flapping in a nonexistent wind.

“Oh, I can do it,” he said, his gaze fixed on Kirris. “My former apprentice lived in Semma, in the Small Kingdoms; I transformed him fifteen years ago. He wasn’t Called.”

“Why should we believe you?” Kirris demanded, her heart pounding as she tried to hide her fear. “Where is this apprentice now?”

“I don’t know where he is,” Vond said. “I was Called, just like the rest of you, remember? I don’t know what happened to everyone I knew before.”

“But why haven’t we heard of him? A powerful warlock in the Small Kingdoms — wouldn’t we have heard?”

“Do you hear about every strong warlock? I don’t think so,” Vond replied.

“But in the Small Kingdoms? Warlocks are scarce there. The Wizards’ Guild doesn’t even allow warlocks in some of them!”

Vond cocked his head. “How did you know that?” he asked. “When were you Called? If it was after the ban, why are you here? Didn’t you have anywhere else to go?”

Kirris felt sweat break out on her forehead. “I...I was talking to someone...”

“No,” Vond said. “You’re lying. Your heart’s pounding, and you’re sweating.”

“I’m not lying. I’m terrified!” Kirris said. “Of you!”

“I suppose you... Wait.”

Kirris felt her skin crawl, though she did not know why. “Wait for what?”

“You aren’t a warlock,” Vond said accusingly. “You never were. You don’t have the thing in your head.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about —”

“You’re a witch!” Vond said. “What’s a witch doing here?”

“I... Some witches were Called on the Night of Madness, you know that,” she said desperately.

“You were never a warlock,” Vond said. “Did you think we can’t tell? How could we ever make apprentices if we couldn’t tell the difference? You weren’t a warlock!”

“All right, I wasn’t,” Kirris admitted, “but I heard... I didn’t have anywhere else to go, and I heard about this house, and —”

Vond shook his head, and Kirris felt her spells stripped away, wiped from her by Vond’s own magic, like a cloth wiping away dust. “You’re a witch, a strong witch, and you’ve been using a lot of magic, I can feel it. I can’t tell what you did with it, but I can see that you’ve been using energy, and that your muscles haven’t been working hard, so you’ve been working magic. You’ve been spying on us, haven’t you?”

“I wasn’t... I don’t...” Kirris was suddenly shoved back against the wall, pressed flat against the wallpaper,