'It is a Rovac oath,' said Guest, evidencing pride in its possession. 'I learnt it from Rolf Thelemite.'
'And Glambrax learnt it as well,' said Sken-Pitilkin.
'Why, so he did!' said Guest in astonishment. 'How did you know that? Have you psychic powers?'
'When you are older and wiser,' said Sken-Pitilkin with a sigh, 'you will learn that psychic powers are entirely unnecessary to divine the wit and intention of the very young.'
That was the plain truth, for without any psychic powers whatsoever, the sagacious Sken-Pitilkin knew full well what approach Guest planned to take toward the matter of the demon Icaria Scaria Iva-Italis.
As the wizard of Skatzabratzumon had immediately divined, Guest Gulkan was bent on pretending that the events of his night of guard duty in the Hall of Time had been blurred into unintelligibility by the rigors of his fever. But Sken-Pitilkin was not fooled for a moment. The boy knew! He knew too much! So – must he then be killed?
Certainly he must be kept away from the demon Iva-Italis!
But how was Sken-Pitilkin to persuade the Safrak Bank to deny Guest further access to that demon? Banker Sod, the Governor who ruled Alozay and all the other islands of the Safrak archipelago, seemed disposed to trust Guest. After all, relations between Safrak and the Collosnon Empire were relaxed and friendly, and Guest was the son of the Collosnon Empire's ruler.
So how could Sod be persuaded to treat Guest with something of the distrustful rigor which is reserved for a hostile prisoner? Sken-Pitilkin thought about it long and hard, but could find no solution. At last he consulted Zelafona, whom he knew of old.
'As I helped you,' said Sken-Pitilkin, alluding to the drama which had brought Sken-Pitilkin, Zozimus, Zelafona and Glambrax flee to refuge in Tameran some ten years earlier, 'now it is your turn to help me.'
'Speak,' said Zelafona.
Then Sken-Pitilkin explained all, even – for he trusted Zelafona, for all that he was a wizard and she a witch – the matter of the Mahendo Mahunduk.
Yes.
The Mahendo Mahunduk. Sken-Pitilkin hesitated before touching on that most sensitive of subjects, but touch on it he did – and was chastened when he discovered that Zelafona already knew all about it.
'Clearly,' said the old but elegant witch-woman, 'you must keep the boy away from this demon-thing. Whatever its nature, its promises are impractical. In other words – it is a liar. Doubtless it means to use the boy, but the reward it offers is not within its power to give.'
'Then what am I to do?' said Sken-Pitilkin.
'You must tell the Safrak Bank that Guest attempted to force a passage past the demon. You must tell the Bank that Guest tried to win a passage to the forbidden shrine above. Since the Bank is so protective of its holy of holies, I'm sure they will thereafter deny Guest Gulkan admission to the Hall of Time.'
This proposal had the simplicity which marks true genius, and Sken-Pitilkin promptly put it into effect. Sken- Pitilkin demanded an interview with Banker Sod, was admitted into the iceman's presence, and gave him an edited account of the events of the night of Guest Gulkan's guard duty.
'I took myself up to the Hall of Time,' said Sken-Pitilkin,
'meaning to take him a flask of soup which had been cooked by my cousin Zozimus. I knew him to be but recently recovered from influenza, hence thought him in need of such sustenance. While I was with him, he fell to boasting, as a boy in his folly will, and the upshot was that he tried to force a passage past the demon.'
'And?' said Sod.
'And,' said Sken-Pitilkin, 'the demon knocked him to the ground.'
Sod did not know whether to believe this account. On the face of it, the story was highly improbable. For the demon Icaria Scaria Iva-Italis did not customarily defend the privacy of the holy of holies by knocking people to the ground. Rather, the demon's custom was to fatally ravage anyone who attempted an unauthorized passage up the eastern stairs of the Hall of Time.
Clearly, Sken-Pitilkin was holding something back.
But what?
Sod first taxed Sken-Pitilkin directly, suggesting that he was not telling the truth, or at least not the whole truth.
'I am old,' conceded Sken-Pitilkin, 'and my memory is failing. It may be that I have misplaced some of the events of the night, or misrecalled them.'
Sod did not believe him for a moment.
So the pale-skinned iceman took himself off to the Hall of Time, and there endeavored to interrogate Iva-Italis. A singularly unsatisfactory procedure, this! For the demon played mute, even when Sod threatened to withhold its monthly ration of those unfortunate rats which gave it such prolonged and reliable amusement.
Sod next interrogated Guest, who blandly claimed that the height of his fever had wiped out his memory.
This left Sod with a problem. Both Guest and Sken-Pitilkin had engaged in some kind of nefarious dealings with Safrak's demon. What had they done? What had they learnt? And should they be killed to preserve the Bank's safety? A difficult decision, this. For Guest was the son of the Witchlord Onosh, and Safrak wanted no war with the Collosnon Empire. Doubtless an accident could be arranged, but…
The unfortunate truth was that Banker Sod had become addicted to the cookery of Pelagius Zozimus, who delighted the Banker with his many ingenious recipes for preparing snails and slugs. Zozimus had only come to Alozay to help protect Guest Gulkan. If Guest died, then Zozimus would immediately leave, denying Sod the blandishments of his cookery.
Thus did a slug-chef's art help secure Guest's safety, at least for the moment. Sod contented himself by banning Guest Gulkan (and Sken-Pitilkin!) from venturing anywhere near the heights of the Hall of Time. Guest of course was still in some danger from Sken-Pitilkin, who nightly revolved the question of whether the boy knew too much. On recovering from his influenza, Guest had set himself to master the Toxteth tongue, and had taken to putting in extra work with his sword. From long acquaintance with the boy, Sken-Pitilkin could read his intent from the slightest clues, and Guest's ferocious attack on Toxteth was by no means a slight clue. Guest's behavior implied that he was preparing himself to join the Guardians. The boy now had it in mind to stay on Alozay as a hired sword. Once a member of the Guardians, a mercenary entrusted with the defense of the Bank, Guest would have further opportunity of intercourse with the demon Iva-Italis. Sken-Pitilkin knew that Guest felt denied, thwarted, cheated by the fact that his father had named his brother Eljuk to be the heir of the Collosnon Empire. Guest wanted power, and the demon Iva-Italis offered him just that – a wizard's power, to be easily won by a simple quest.
So -
The boy was driven by ambition, and the strength of that drive would see him win through to his demon, sooner or later, and there was no telling what would happen then.
Therefore Sken-Pitilkin thought further of murder.
But the wizard of Skatzabratzumon had developed a durable affection for Guest during the ten years of their classroom relationship, hence could not bring himself to casually despatch the boy. Besides, Sken-Pitilkin had told Lord Onosh that he would guard, guide and protect Guest on Alozay, and such a commitment could not be lightly brushed aside, for Sken-Pitilkin had his honor.
And there was another factor to be considered. Sken-Pitilkin was intrigued by the possibility of developing a practical airship, hence wanted to keep open his route to the demon Iva-Italis. Suppose Guest stayed on Alozay. Suppose Guest became a Guardian. Then the boy would grow older (definitely) and wiser (possibly). Once older and wiser, the boy would be more amenable to advice.
Counseled by Sken-Pitilkin, Guest might well abandon his impossible plans to be 'made a wizard'. He might consent to scheme with Sken-Pitilkin. Working together, they might be able to trick the demon Iva-Italis out of the knowledge necessary for a wizard of Skatzabratzumon to build a practical airship.
In such hope, Sken-Pitilkin restrained his hand, and set himself to wait.
Yet very little waiting had gone by before Sken-Pitilkin started to find himself increasingly impatient. To control the secrets of flight was the dream of every wizard of Skatzabratzumon. Sken-Pitilkin had made many experiments in that direction during his apprenticeship, and during the long years of his maturity he had spent generations trying to crack the problem.
He knew how to wait, yes, but would waiting serve his purpose? Was there any proven virtue in patience?
