'Thing?' said Guest.
'The wizard!' said Iva-Italis. 'That wizard of Ebber!'
'My lord,' said Guest Gulkan, turning uncomfortably to the jade-green monolith which commanded his loyalty. 'I did not know that the, that the thing would prove so disrespectful. But I have brought you Hostaja Sken-Pitilkin, as you wished.'
'Ah, yes,' said Iva-Italis, somewhat mollified. 'That much you did. Step forward, Sken-Pitilkin.' Sken-Pitilkin did indeed step forward, but was cautious enough to halt well short of the Iva-Italis creature. Sken-Pitilkin had known Ulix of the Drum of old, and trusted his judgment. If Vorlus Ulix thought that this demon-thing was not to be trusted, then so it was.
'You have heard my debate with, ah, Vorlus Ulix,' said Iva-Italis, 'the gentleman we otherwise know as – '
'The boy has no need to know the gentleman's true name,' saidSken-Pitilkin.
'Why don't I need?' said Guest.
'Step back, boy,' said Iva-Italis, who was finished with Guest, at least for the moment. 'It's the wizard I want to speak with. Sken-Pitilkin. You will help me.'
'I?' said Sken-Pitilkin. 'Why will I help you?'
'Because I have what you want,' said Iva-Italis.
'And what is that?' said Sken-Pitilkin, who was not conscious of wanting anything, and hence had not the slightest idea what the demon might have in mind.
'You are Hostaja Torsen Sken-Pitilkin,' said Iva-Italis, 'and you are a wizard of the order of Skatzabratzumon.'
'That is true,' said Sken-Pitilkin, wondering how the demon had come by that last datum. It certainly had not come from Guest Gulkan, who had repeatedly proved himself quite incapable of either memorising or pronouncing the word 'Skatzabratzumon'.
'Your order commands powers of levitation,' said Iva-Italis,
'and long has it sought to command the powers of flight.'
'It seeks no longer,' said Sken-Pitilkin, 'for it has been conclusively proved by mathematical analysis that sustained flight is impossible. No wizard can put forth power sufficient for time sufficient.'
'By that analysis,' said Iva-Italis, 'the flame trench of Drangsturm would be likewise impossible.'Sken-Pitilkin was silent. Sken-Pitilkin knew very well how Drangsturm worked, but was not about to communicate this sensitive information to a demon.
'The wizards of Arl made Drangsturm, did they not?' said Iva-Italis.
'So you say,' said Sken-Pitilkin.
'So it is Written,' said Iva-Italis. 'The wizards of Arl made Drangsturm, a trench of molten rock designed to burn with unceasing fury for all time. It divides the continent of Argan in two, does it not?'
'Perhaps it has thus been Written,' said Sken-Pitilkin, who knew that the demon was speaking the truth, and who was finding himself intrigued despite himself.
The demon was proving exceptionally well-informed, and Sken-Pitilkin had never thought to meet with such a savant on Safrak.
'Drangsturm burns,' said Iva-Italis. 'It burns with a power which exceeds that commanded by all the wizards of Arl who ever were. How is such a trick compelled?'
'You tell me,' said Sken-Pitilkin, who knew the answer but was not prepared to betray that answer unless he was severely tortured.
'Wizards,' said Iva-Italis, 'are by their nature hostile to the very universe itself. Is that not the case? You are a wizard, hence the sustaining creation is itself your enemy.'
'I own no such enemy,' said Sken-Pitilkin.
'You are a wizard,' said Iva-Italis. 'You are a Force in your own right, are you not? You are a Light in the Unseen Realm. And what realm is that if it is not the realm of the Mahendo Mahunduk?'
Despite himself, Sken-Pitilkin shuddered, then struck his country crook on the skull-pattern tiles of the Hall of Time, as if seeking by that action to abolish the demon Iva-Italis from his sight.
'I am not so easily dismissed!' said the demon. 'I have you, have I not? I have your truth!'
'What is he talking about?' said Guest Gulkan, completely bewildered by all this.
'Remove yourself,' said Sken-Pitilkin curtly.
'Stay, boy,' said Iva-Italis easily. 'Stay, and you will hear the Inner Secrets which wizards have thought well- hidden from the world. Stay – but stay back, and stay silent.'
'Guest,' said Sken-Pitilkin, 'as you love your liver, leave.'
'That's a threat?' said Guest.
'Take it as you will,' said Sken-Pitilkin, belatedly realizing that it was better not to give the boy a challenge.
'It is a threat indeed,' crooned Iva-Italis. 'He threatens you, you see. Death is his threat. To stay, to hear – oh, death is the least of it. But to leave – death also. You are brief, Guest Gulkan. Brief in your living, brief in your lungs. I blink. Your bones are dust. I close my eyes for a moment. Your children's children have been forgotten by their grandchildren. So it is. So it will be. Unless. I promise you, Guest. You can live and live and live. Five thousand years is the least of it.'
Listening to the demon's crooning voice, Sken-Pitilkin realized that the demon exalted. Now Sken-Pitilkin realized that the demon's earlier attempts to exclude Guest Gulkan from this debate had been but a rhetorical feint. The demon had sought to convince the boy Guest that there was deliciously forbidden knowledge to be had in this room, and Guest had allowed himself to be convinced.
The boy and the wizard confronted each other. The lights in the Hall of Time had burnt away to nothing, for they had not been renewed during the long debates of the night. The sole illumination was provided by the cold green glow emitted by the monolithic presence of Icaria Scaria Iva-Italis, demon of Safrak, Keeper of the Inner Sanctum, Guardian Prime, and Demon by Appointment to the Great God Jocasta.
By that light, Sken-Pitilkin saw a preternatural alertness in Guest Gulkan's eyes. It was the look of the hunter- killer. Guest was watching Sken-Pitilkin, and was watching the demon too. His hand was on the hilt of his sword. He was poised as if for battle, and ever and again he glanced at the approaches which would give any intruder access to their conclave.
Suddenly Sken-Pitilkin realized:
– If not tonight then tomorrow.
If Guest Gulkan could be chased from the demon's side right then and there, he would be back the next night. Guest Gulkan would return. And the demon -
– What it knows it will tell.
– Perhaps if it tells I can try to untell.
– Or perhaps. Sken-Pitilkin suppressed the 'perhaps', suppressed the bloody thought which rose unbidden into his mind. He was not that kind of person. He muttered as much to himself:
'I am not that kind of person.'
'He thinks,' said Iva-Italis, mockingly, 'he thinks he may have to kill you.'Sken-Pitilkin's head came up with a jerk.
'That is not true!'
'He thinks,' continued Iva-Italis, 'that if you stay you will learn, and if you learn then it may in all wisdom be far too dangerous to let you leave here alive.'
'I will run that risk,' said Guest Gulkan flatly.
And his eyes met Sken-Pitilkin's, and it was the wizard who dropped his eyes. Shamed by self-knowledge. And shocked and shaken by the ease with which the boy made the death decision.
'You are worthy,' said Iva-Italis in approval. 'Hear this, then. But know that it is death to hear. Death to hear and death to tell.'
'Tell,' said Guest Gulkan, who knew he was mortal, who knew he was doomed to die in any case. Sken-Pitilkin heard the certainty of death in Guest Gulkan's voice, and was shaken, for Sken-Pitilkin had long lived far removed from the urgent pangs of mortality, the deathconsciousness of the brief-lived warrior. Sken-Pitilkin had forgotten how ruthlessly such creatures would dare, gambling all and everything when suitably tempted.
