The Unwelcome Warlock

arms spread, palms out, head up.

“Or maybe...maybe you did more than watch,” Vond said. “Maybe you sent that dream. Maybe it wasn’t the wizards at all.”

Kirris tried to turn her head, to see what the others in the corridor were doing, but she could not move. Her eyes were fixed on Vond’s face, whether she wanted them to be or not. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.

“Why did you do it?” Vond asked. “Is the Sisterhood trying to make me stop using magic? Did someone hire you?”

“I didn’t,” Kirris said.

“You wouldn’t have done it by yourself,” Vond said. “I don’t know you; you’d have no reason to do that to me. You must be here representing somebody.”

“I didn’t mean any harm,” Kirris said.

The invisible force holding her against the wall suddenly pressed harder; she felt plaster crack under her shoulder blades, and something broke in her left hand, sending shooting pain up her arm. “Any harm?” Vond bellowed. “You sent me a nightmare! You sent me the Call!”

“I didn’t want to,” Kirris said. She was beginning to have trouble breathing. “I tried to help.”

“Help who? Not me, certainly! Who were you helping? Who sent you?”

“No one!”

“You know you’re going to die if you don’t tell me the truth, don’t you?” Vond told her. “Was it the Sisterhood? I never thought they had any problem with warlocks, but you’re a witch, so perhaps I just missed it.”

“It... Not the Sisterhood,” Kirris said, struggling for breath.

“Then why a witch? Why did they send you, whoever they are?”

“I knew what the Calling felt like,” Kirris admitted. “I shared minds with a Called warlock, long ago.”

Vond’s eyes widened. “Did you? No wonder it felt so real! But who sent you? The overlord? Or...” His eyes widened further as a thought struck him. “Was it Sterren?”

“Who?”

Vond’s eyes narrowed again. “Not Sterren,” he said. “You aren’t that good a liar, not with your magic blocked. It wasn’t Sterren, then. Lord Azrad?”

“No.” Vond’s eyes seemed to be drilling into her head. Kirris knew that warlocks could not hear thoughts the way witches could, but they could see things, sense things inside the body, that let them tell truth from falsehood with considerable accuracy.

“Not the overlord. Who, then? A wizard would just use one of his own spells...”

Kirris tried not to react, not to give the warlock the slightest hint, but she knew she had failed. She saw his eyes widen again.

“A wizard?” he said. “Which one? Ithinia of the Isle?”

Kirris did not answer in words, but she did not need to. Vond could read the truth in her response to the name.

She felt her heart pounding, felt the sheen of sweat on her brow, felt the pain of her broken hand, the pressure on her back where she was shoved against and into the wall.

She felt her heart stop, and a sudden jolt of pain flash through her chest.

And then she felt nothing at all, ever again.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Zallin was leaning heavily on Hanner’s shoulder, but he was on his feet, not being dragged, as they emerged from the dim dining room into the brightly-lit entry hall. Hanner was focused on keeping his drunken companion moving, and if Zallin had not said, “Who’s that?” Hanner might not have even noticed the woman standing by the front door, waiting for them.

Hanner turned to see who Zallin was talking about, and saw the red-skirted woman. “Oh,” he said.

“I haven’t been paid,” she said, as Vond shouted something upstairs.

“I know,” Hanner said, glancing up the stairs. “This really isn’t a good time, though.”

“I can see that,” the streetwalker replied. “He sent a woman flying out the door a moment ago, and I can hear him yelling. Still, someone owes me five rounds.”

“Five rounds?”

“That’s what he promised me.”

Hanner looked at Zallin, but the other man offered no comment. He was too busy staring down the woman’s tunic. Hanner sighed. “What was your name?” he asked.

“Leth of Pawnbroker Lane.”

“Leth. Yes. This is really not a good time. If you could come back tomorrow, I’ll see to it you’re paid.”

She hesitated, glancing up the stairs, then said, “I’m not at all sure this place will still be standing tomorrow. He just announced that he’s going to go tell the overlord and the Wizards’ Guild that he’s angry with them.”

“He did?” Hanner looked up the stairs; Vond was shouting, but he could not make out the words.

“He said anyone who’s still in this house when he gets back is his property.”

Hanner closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “Then you really don’t want to be here, do you?” he said. “Listen, I promise you’ll be paid, but this drunken idiot here is the one with the money, and he’s in no condition to deal with it right now. If you won’t come back here tomorrow, go to the overlord’s palace and tell the guards on the bridge that you need to see Lady Alris — the Lady of the Household. Tell her that her brother Hanner owes you five rounds.”

Leth stared at him. “The palace? And you think she’ll believe me?”

“Yes,” Hanner said. “I do. Tell her the whole story, if you need to. Now, I really need to get this man upstairs and talk to the emperor. Excuse me.”

He turned away, and had scarcely gotten Zallin up the first step when he heard the front door close. A quick glance assured him that Leth was indeed gone.

He boosted Zallin up one more step, and then was suddenly slammed against the wall, Zallin beside him. The front door burst open again, and Vond came swooping down the stairs, his black robe flapping, a second dark figure trailing in his wake. He paused in mid-air when he spotted Hanner.

At least, Hanner thought, he was decently dressed this time, and not glowing.

“Ah, it’s you!” Vond said. “You might want to know, it was a witch who sent me that dream.” He gestured toward the thing following him, and with a shock Hanner realized it was a woman’s body; the arms and head dangled limply. From her misshapen appearance Hanner concluded that she had been crushed, “She’s dead,” Vond said, unnecessarily. “I’m going to return her to the wizard who sent her.”

Getting a look at her face, Hanner belatedly recognized the dead woman as one of that evening’s arrivals, the one who had said she didn’t trust the tapestry. He swallowed, and tried not to let his horror show. “How do you know who sent her?” he asked.

“She told me before she died,” Vond said. “It was Ithinia of the Isle.”

“Guildmaster Ithinia? She’s the most powerful wizard in the city; why would she send a witch?”

“Because this witch had shared the Calling with a warlock,” Vond replied. “So she came to share it with me, and now I’m going to share the results with Ithinia.”

“Your Majesty, do you —”

“I don’t intend to discuss it with you,” Vond interrupted. “She may be the most powerful wizard in the city, but I’m the most powerful warlock who ever lived. I am going to explain to her that she should not antagonize me.”