The Unwelcome Warlock

Then two of the swordsmen gave one woman a shove, her hand touched the cloth — and nothing happened. She stood there, hand on the tapestry, hair awry, blinking in surprise.

“Hai!” Tesra called, raising a hand of his own. “Something’s wrong.”

The three other swordsmen in the house stopped and turned to see what was happening, while the woman stood where she had been shoved, running her hands over the fabric. She spread her fingers wide and pressed both palms on the tapestry.

“What’s going on?” asked one of the swordsmen whose name Hanner had not learned. “Why is she still here?”

“Maybe she’s under some kind of spell,” Tesra said. “You try it, and if it works, you can tell the emperor we may have a problem.”

“Seems to me we have a problem if it doesn’t work,” the other said.

“Yes, I know,” Tesra agreed, “but you won’t be in a position to tell him that, will you?”

“We’d be stuck here!”

“Well, try it, and see if we are,” Tesra said, pointing at the tapestry.

The other man frowned and said, “Pass me another warlock first, and we’ll see if he goes through.”

While this conversation was taking place Hanner had moved in for a closer look, while most of the other refugees in or near the house had retreated; therefore it was Hanner’s arm that Tesra grabbed, while the other swordsman pulled the woman away. “Here, you,” Tesra said to Hanner. “Put your hand on that thing.”

Hanner obeyed, not sure what to expect. He could think of a few reasons the tapestry might have stopped working; in fact, he was surprised that there had not been any previous interruptions. He would have expected delays after each transition, while the most recently transported person got out of the area depicted on the tapestry, but until now that had not happened — apparently this tapestry was not as particular about that as were most of the others Hanner had heard of.

Arvagan had always said they varied. Nervously, Hanner put his hand on the fabric.

Nothing happened. The material under his fingers felt like ordinary silk. It was wonderfully smooth, but silk usually was.

“So it’s not just her,” Tesra said.

The other swordsman, seeing that no harm had befallen Hanner or the woman, also reached out to stroke the cloth. Again, nothing happened; there was no sign of any magic.

“What’s happening?” a new voice asked. Hanner turned to find Gerath standing in the doorway, looking annoyed.

“The tapestry stopped working,” Tesra said.

“It what?” His head snapped around to stare at the tapestry. “Blood and death, are you serious?”

“Yes, sir,” Tesra said, stepping aside.

Gerath strode to the tapestry and put his hand on it, between Hanner’s and the other swordsman’s. He, too, failed to disappear. “Damn!” he muttered. Then he recognized Hanner. “Do you know what’s gone wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Hanner said. He was stalling, trying to decide what he wanted to tell these people.

“You have a theory?” Gerath demanded. “This tapestry was yours originally, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s mine,” Hanner said.

“So what’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing, so far as I know,” Hanner said. “It’s more likely something’s changed on the other side, so that the image doesn’t match the reality closely enough. When that happens, the tapestry won’t work.”

“Changed? What could have changed?”

Hanner stepped back, and gestured at the tapestry. “Several things,” he said. “You see that the image shows an empty attic; if there’s something in the real attic now that isn’t in the picture, that would explain it.”

“But it didn’t stop working when we sent people through,” Tesra said. “Wouldn’t they have been there?”

“Yes, they would,” Hanner said, impressed, despite himself, with how quickly Tesra had figured this out. “With some tapestries, you have to wait until the first person moves out of the way before you can send another. Apparently this one isn’t that picky.”

“Or it wasn’t,” Gerath said. “Maybe it wore out a little, and got picky.”

“Maybe,” Hanner conceded. “Or...well, when I first tested this tapestry, a couple of sixnights...I mean, seventeen years ago, when I was still a warlock, I smashed a hole in the attic roof. I think that must have stopped the tapestry from working until the damage was fixed. If Vond, or some wizard he’s angered, broke something — snapped one of those beams, or tore open the roof — then the tapestry won’t work until the damage is repaired.”

“That could be bad,” Tesra said.

“It could,” Hanner agreed.

“Why would Vond smash anything?” one of the other soldiers asked, but everyone else ignored him.

“Any other possibilities?” Gerath asked.

“Well, yes,” Hanner said. “I don’t think either of those is the most likely, actually. If you take a look at the image, I think you’ll see what I mean.”

“I don’t,” Tesra replied, annoyed.

“It’s daylight in the picture,” Hanner explained.

“So? It’s daylight here, too,” Gerath said.

“It’s always daylight here,” Hanner said. “The sun doesn’t move; hadn’t you noticed?”

Gerath frowned. “I’ve been busy,” he said, a bit defensively. “So it doesn’t necessarily match what’s happening in the real World?”

“It doesn’t match,” Hanner said. “None of the people here had any way of telling time, because it’s always midday.”

“But it’s after dark in Ethshar,” Tesra said. “It was late afternoon there when we came through the tapestry — it must be night by now.”

“This tapestry doesn’t work at night?” Gerath demanded.

“That’s my theory, yes,” Hanner said.

“So we just need to wait until morning?”

“That’s my theory,” Hanner repeated.

“We’re stuck here all night?” Tesra asked. “There’s no way to speed it up?”

“Well, I don’t know of any,” Hanner said. “I’ve heard of tapestries where if the time of day or some other detail doesn’t match, you can still step into them, but you don’t come out on the other side until the conditions are right. This one doesn’t seem to do that, so yes, I think we have to wait for daylight.”

“Is there any way to get a message to the emperor, and let him know what’s happening?” Gerath asked.

“Not that I know of,” Hanner said, turning up a palm.

“Then we wait,” Tesra said.

“Since we can’t tell what time it is in Ethshar, we’ll keep testing it every few minutes,” Gerath said, pointing at the woman who had first failed to go through. “With her.”

“Yes, sir,” one of the swordsmen said, catching her arm.

“Hanner, is there any other way out of here?” Gerath asked.

Hanner shook his head. “No,” he said.

“You’re sure of that?”

“No,” Hanner repeated. “Nobody really knows much about this place. I know I didn’t provide any other way out, but I suppose there might be a natural one somehow.”

Gerath considered that, then ordered Hanner, “Out. You’re coming with me.”