Shandiph bowed his head in acknowledgment.
'Good.' The overlord got to his feet and brushed off his velvet robes. 'Now let's get back to work.' He gestured, and Silda opened the door.
The executioner, hooded and robed in black and yellow, stood outside, his axe in his hands. Behind him, a ring of nervous guards and footmen waited.
The prince spread his arms theatrically. 'My thanks, my lord, for heeding my summons. I have decided, however, to be merciful; your services will not be needed.'
The headsman bowed low, backed up a pace as soldiers scurried to clear a path, then turned and marched away without speaking.
The overlord spotted an officer among the clustered guardsmen and called, 'Captain, if you would escort these three to their quarters, I would appreciate it. They are not prisoners and are not to be confined, but I think they would like to rest. They have been overexcited. See to them; I must return to my own business.'
The officer saluted, setting the crimson plume on his helmet bobbing; he pulled two of his men off to one side as the others formed an honor guard around the overlord, then waited as servants, soldiery, and prince marched back into the audience chamber. When the black and gold door had closed behind the last footman, the officer gestured for the first of his two men to accompany Silda and for the other to guard Chalkara, while he himself escorted Shandiph. Thus arranged, he bowed politely and said, 'At your service, my lord wizard.'
Shandiph was in no mood for pleasantries. 'Lead on,' he said.
Together the party trooped up the corridor, past the golden door of the Hall of Promotion, and through the ornate gate at the end of the passage. All turned right, but Silda and her guard continued directly down the carpeted corridor, while the wizards and their unwanted companions headed up the gilded staircase. The archivist's apartments were on a lower level, near the archives themselves, which were in an upper part of the crypts. The wizards, in keeping with tradition, were housed on the topmost floor of one of the palace towers. Shandiph, not as young and spry as he once was, sometimes regretted that.
During the long walk along the length of the north wing, ascending each flight of stairs they encountered, neither Chalkara nor Shandiph spoke. Each observed the other, however. Chalkara saw Shandiph's fists clench and unclench, saw him biting back words. Shandiph saw Chalkara's eyes shifting, her face pale, with the look of a hunted animal in her manner.
They reached the spiral stair that led into the tower proper, and Shandiph broke his silence. 'You need go no farther,' he told the soldiers. 'There's no reason to tire yourselves out by climbing all these stairs.'
The captain stopped, glanced about, and nodded. 'Very well. The prince said you were not under confinement, and at any rate, there is no other exit from the tower.'
'Indeed,' Shandiph said. 'Thank you for your company, captain, and a good evening to you.' He bowed slightly.
The officer saluted, but did not depart; instead he stood where he was and watched as the two wizards made their way up the staircase. Glancing back, Shandiph noticed, with some amusement despite his worry over Garth's actions, that the young guardsman who stood at his captain's side was not watching both wizards, but only Chalkara. Unaware that he was observed, the soldier stared at her hips as she climbed the steps. Shandiph was not surprised; Chalkara was worth staring at. He guessed that the youth was wondering whether the tales one heard in every barracks were true, that sorceresses are not like other women.
Shandiph turned away, resisting the urge to comment. The stories were not true; Chalkara was as human as anyone.
The curve of the stair took them out of sight before they reached the first floor of the tower; their own rooms were in the fifth and highest storey. Shandiph paused, out of breath, at the first landing, but then marched determinedly onward.
'Shandi, we...' Chalkara began as they rounded the next curve.
He waved her to silence and trudged upward.
At the third landing he stopped and listened; Chalkara came and stood beside him.
'I don't think they can hear us,' he said, keeping his voice low. 'Chala, do you like it here?'
'What?'
'Do you like Ur-Dormulk? Do you want to stay here?'
'I don't know. It's comfortable, even if it isn't home, and where else could we go?'
'Sland, perhaps; I understand that it's at peace now, and Karag fled years ago. There might be a place for a wizard or two.'
'Shandi, what are you talking about? Why should we leave Ur-Dormulk? If the Fifteenth Age starts, it won't matter where we are.'
'It might, but that's not my point. I want to know if you'll go along with me if I disobey the overlord and get us both exiled.'
'Oh, Shandi, of course I will! We have to do something, whatever he says! The King in Yellow wouldn't have sent Garth here unless he knew the Book of Silence could be found!'
'We'll have to run for our lives, probably. The prince may decide to put us to death if we stay here.'
'I don't mind. Maybe we should leave anyway, Shandi, even if he doesn't do anything. I want to see Kholis again; the fighting hasn't reached there yet, not all the way to the castle, and I'm sure the King is over his anger by now. I may not live long enough to go home if we don't stop the overman.'
'Don't be so pessimistic, Chala; we'll stop him, at least for now. He's just one overman.' Shandiph did not wholly believe that, even as he said it.
Chalkara did not believe it either, but she said nothing to contradict the older wizard. 'What are you planning to do?' she asked.
'I'm not sure yet, but I have an idea. Can you make a golem?'
Chalkara considered, then shook her head. 'No.'
'What about illusions?'
'Oh, I can do those, but they aren't always reliable. What are you thinking of?'
'I'm thinking of ways of killing Garth. I don't have any spells that can do it anymore; do you?'
'No. At least, I don't think so.'
'Well, I'm not about to go up and try to kill him in person; he's dangerous. That means we'll have to send someone else to do it.'
'Shandi, should we do that? Isn't there any other way to stop him?'
'I doubt it. He's stubborn. I'm sure we can't destroy the King in Yellow or the Book of Silence, but we can probably get Garth killed.'
'Should we consult with the rest of the Council?'
'Why bother? The Council is broken, Chala, you know that. We're not bound by its rules anymore. Besides, his death was authorized three years ago, by vote of the quorum.'
'You're right. We'll kill him.'
'We won't; the city guard will. Did you know that Sedrik has always hated overmen? One of his ancestors got butchered in the Racial Wars, I suppose.'
'How do you know that?'
'I got him drunk one night; it's always a good idea to learn something about the people who run the place you're living in. I was hoping to find out who was intriguing against whom-there's always some of that in a palace-but instead I got a tirade about murderous inhuman monsters and a lecture about the cowardice of the Eramman nobility in not invading the Northern Waste and wiping the vermin out.'
'I see; he'd love an excuse to kill an overman, then, and it's probably one of his men following Garth.' Chalkara nodded.
'And if he should receive an order from the overlord himself, I don't think he'd bother to wonder why the prince changed his mind.'
'From the overlord?' Chalkara looked puzzled for an instant; then comprehension dawned. 'Oh, of course! A golem would be better, but an illusion should work if the light isn't very good.'
'I hope so,' Shandiph said.
'You start packing, Shandi; the overlord won't like this at all if he finds out. I'll need some things for the illusion, but you can pack up everything else.' She hurried up the last two flights; Shandiph, still weary, plodded
