Spellsinger 04 - The Moment Of The Magician
Foster, Alan Dean
"And I say Opiode should give way!"
The speaker. Asmouelle the tamandua, stood be-
fore the narrow wooden oval that was the Quorum
table and glared at his colleagues. His nose was
damp and glistening, and so was the table. Most
everything stayed damp in Quasequa, a city built on
numerous islands in the middle of the Lake of
Sorrowful Pearls. Causeways joined the islands together,
and each isle sent its duly chosen representative to
^ argue for it in the Quorum.
This afternoon the arguments raged hotter than
the air outside the Quorumate. The members were
debating the selection of an advisor in matters ar-
cane and magical.
The unexpected challenger for this mystic position
sat and brooded in a chair at the far end of the
Quorum chamber. Reluctant attendants saw to his
needs. They were afraid of the newcomer. So were
several members of the Quorum, though none
confessed such unseemly fears openly.
Two members openly supported the challenger,
but not out of fear. Kindore and Vazvek saw a
chance to better themselves by striking a bargain
with the newcomer for their aid. The rest of the
2 Alan Dean Poster
Quorum regarded this naked display of sycophancy
with disgust.
And now Asmouelle appeared to have joined
them.
The tamandua sat down. Domurmur the lynx rose
and spoke dispassionately. "And / say this wanderer
has yet to prove himself capable of anything stronger
than bad breath." His paws rested on the ancient
table, which was as black and shiny as a bottle of
oil.
Kindore responded with an insult of some subtlety,
and once again the debate dissolved into chaos. It
ceased only when Trendavi raised a hand for silence.
He did not stand. Long experience had taught him
that it was not necessary for a legislator to jump up
and down like a toy in a box to make a point.
The aged pangolin squinted down the length of
the table, studying the challenger silently for a moment.
Then he nodded to his left.
"Opiode the Sly has been principal advisor in
arcane matters to the Quorum of Quasequa for
nearly thirty years. Skillfully and well has he served.
The city and its citizens have profited much from his
advice." Trendavi showed scaly palms. "As have we
all."
Words of agreement rose from the members while
Kindore and Vazvek were conspicuous by their silence.
The newcomer said nothing.
"It is true that this Markus person"—and Trendavi
gestured toward the individual in the solitary chair,
who sat smiling to himself as if at some secret joke—
"has demonstrated to the Quorum nothing more
than a facile tongue."
Now the newcomer stood and approached the
black table. "Since you credit me with it, let me use
it, friends." The towering form of his personal body-
guard moved to stand close to the door. "Can I come
TSOS MOMENT Of THB MACMCiAflr 3
nearer?" He smiled pleasantly and even Domurlnur
had to admit that this Markus the Ineluctable, as he
styled himself, could be downright ingratiating in
manner when he so desired. Especially for a human,
a species not noted for its social graces.
Trendavi nodded. All eyes focused on the newcom-
er as he moved close.
For his part, Markus the Ineluctable sensed antag-
onism, fear, curiosity, and some open support among
the members of the Quorum. He would concentrate
his efforts on persuading those who seemed to be
wavering. Of the ten, he could count on three. The
two who openly feared him he could ignore. He had
to persuade at least two others.
And he had to move carefully lest he panic them
all. It was too early to press his demands. His posi-
tion was uncertain in Quasequa, and despite his
powers, he had no wish to raise a formal alliance
against him. Far better to make friends of them than
enemies. Of a majority, anyway.
"I've come here from a faraway land, a land far-
ther off and stranger than any of you can imagine."
"So you've claimed." Domurmur had become some-
thing of an unofficial spokesman for Markus's
opposition. "All that you claim is difficult to be-
lieve."
"Yet much of it is proven by my presence, isn't it?"
"Not necessarily," said Newmadeen, preening her
whiskers casually. One of her long ears was bent
forward in the middle, a sign of beauty among the
hares.
Markus turned away momentarily and coughed.
He did not need to cough, but he didn't want them
to see the expression on his face. He didn't like being
called a liar- Calming himself, he turned to face
them again. Newmadeen he didn't reply to, but he
4 Alan Dean Foster
would remember her. Oh, yes, he would remember
her. Markus the Ineluctable never forgot an enemy.
"Why not?"
Cascuyom the howler shrugged. "There is nothing
unique or remarkable about your person. There are
many humans living in Quasequa. All species mix
freely here. Or you could have come from any one
of several neighboring lands with denser human
populations. Your humanness is proof of nothing."
Markus stepped up to the table, enjoying the way
several of the members shied away from him. "But
I'm no mere human! I'm not your usual mortal. I
am a magician—the magician. Markus the Ineluctable!
I have powers you cannot comprehend, abilities you
cannot conceive of, talents you cannot imagine!"
"A mouth big beyond belief," Domurmur whispered
to the beauteous Newmadeen.
Trendavi cleared his throat, spoke thoughtfully
and, he hoped, with some degree of neutrality- "You
must think quite highly of your skills to come straight
to the Quorum to challenge the faithful and talented
Opiode without first passing time as an apprentice.
For the nonce I will credit you with boldness instead
of ignorance. Whether Opiode will be as forgiving
remains to be seen." He nodded toward the salaman-
der seated in the advisor's chair off to his right.
Red-orange blotches decorated what was visible of
Opiode's back. He wore a single garment that resem-
bled a raincoat. It was not close-fitting. No salaman-
der could wear anything close to its skin because its
natural bodily secretions would cause the material to
stick.
Opiode's long tail flicked nervously
back and forth.
What he'd heard of this Markus the Ineluctable
hadn't pleased him. Now that he saw him in the
flesh, he liked the man even less.
Still, he'd held his peace because protocol demanded
THE MOMENT OF TISK MAOTCMUT 5
it. Not that his personal opinion would be accepted
as evidence. The selection of chief advisor to the
Quorum was purely a matter of business. He would
have his turn in due course. So he continued to sit
quietly, ignoring the debate as best he could while
trying to still the twitching of his tail.
Markus was talking on. "I can do things you won't
believe by means of a magic you've never encountered
before"
"More talk," said Domurmur, slapping the table
with a paw- Markus grinned at him.
**I suspected it would come to this. You want more
than talk from me."
"That'd be nice," said Domurmur sarcastically.
"We've had to contend with applicants whose loquadou&-
ness far exceeded their abilities before"
For an instant, it seemed as if Markus the Inelucta-
ble was about to lose his temper. His barely concealed
rage didn't faze Domurmur. He was made of sterner
stuff than some of his colleagues.
"Yes." said Opiode suddenly, unable to contain
himself any longer. "Let's have an end to this talkl"
All eyes turned to the chief advisor as he rose
from his seat. The glow bulbs hanging by their single
Strands from the curved stone ceiling pulsed a little
which provided their soft, steady light. The servitors
flanking the doorways whispered expectantly among
themselves. Attendants and Quorum members alike
could feel the power flowing from the old wizard,
could sense that he was completely involved in what
was taking place.
About the challenger there was no such percepti-
ble aura of strength. There was only the air of
mystery and feeling of alienness he had brought with
him from the moment he'd stepped into the chamber.
6 Alan Dean Poster
That, and the regal bearing he affected, which some-
how seemed not to fit.
Nor was his actual appearance particularly impres-
sive. He was tall for a human but not spectacularly
so, round of countenance, and crowned with less fur
than most. In hand-to-hand combat it was unlikely
he could have defeated any of the Quorum with the
exception of old Trendavi, for he displayed a consid-
erable paunch above his belt line.
The forthcoming batde would not be physical,
however. Opiode approached the Quorum. "I see no
reason to oppose a challenge. Indeed, I could not
turn it down if 1 wished to. Nor is there any way you
can choose between us without a contest of wills. The
people of Quasequa deserve to have an advisor who
has proven his abilities" He sighed deeply, looked
resigned as he smoothed the slime on the back oT his
hands with a fold of his voluminous robe.
"I have demonstrated my fitness many times be-
fore and expect to have to do so many times again."
He cocked an amphibian eye Coward the newcomer.
"Have you any objection to a public contest?"
"Here and now suits me fine." Markus fairly oozed
confidence. "I'm a little new at this kind of duel. Do
we need seconds?"
"1 think not. In any event, my assistant Flute is
quite young and I would not want him subjected to
mystic influences that could injure him at a delicate
Stage of his development."
"Aw, I wouldn't do that." Markus turned. "Prugg,
no matter what happens you stay there and keep out
of the way. Understand?" The huge bodyguard nod-
ded once and backed away from the table. He was
not completely impassive, however. Like everyone
else in the chamber, he was curious to see how his
master would fare. He was even a little worried.
After all, Opiode was the most noted wizard in the
THB MOMENT OF TSB SSAWCSAM 7
land. It was simple for his master to overawe the
peasant folk with his magic, but outwitting Opiode
would be another matter entirely.
Markus the Ineluctable seemed anything but
intimidated, though. He grinned and gestured
expansively toward the salamander. "You first."
Opiode did not smile. "Food is vital to the health
of all. No food is more important to the people of
Quasequa than the fish that swim in the lakes around
us." He slid back his sleeves, cleared his throat, and
his words rolled through the chamber.
"The bounty of the lake
I bid you aH to share
Your hungers may you slake
With meat beyond compare
For while I advise Quasequa there will be
No nutritional dystopia
But always instead if you look you will see
An ichthyological cornucopia."
Quorum members and servitors alike watched with
the fascination of children as a small, glowing blue-
green whirlpool formed in the air above the floor.
You could smell the lake water as the vortex hummed.
Then the fish poured forth, falling head upon tail,
until there was a heaping mound of flopping, bounc-
ing weewaw lying in the middle of the floor. Weewaw,
the hardest to catch and tastiest of all. And Opiode
had brought forth this expensive and improbable
feast with a wave of his hands and a few words.
The wizard spoke only when the last fish had
• tumbled to the stones and the whirlpool had vanished.
"Can you so readily insure the supply of food to the
citizens of the city?"
He raised his hands above his head, the fingers
8 Alan Dean Poster
pointing outward. His black cape fluttered behind
him. The Quorum members strained to listen, but
those with good hearing could make no sense of the
newcomer's words. Even Opiode, who could hear the
incantation clearly, did not understand. The words
were strange and sharp.
Sense they might not have made, but there was no
denying their effect. A bright green glow appeared
before the table. A few of the members shifted
nervously in their chairs, and Markus casually as;
sured them they had nothing to worry about.
The glow expanded and thinned. Markus looked
smug as the glow formed a floating rectangle above
the floor.
It was an aquarium without sides- Magic alone
held the water in place. Swimming to and fro within
the drifting section of lake was a whole school of
weewaw. suspended before the Quorum.
"I don't know about the rest of you, but I hate
waste. Wouldn't it be better to get your fish one at a
time and keep the others fresh for the taking?"
Opiode muttered something and his pile of dead
weewaw vanished. Markus did likewise and the float-
ing aquarium also disappeared, save for a few mis-
placed drops which stained the floor-
"Well brought!" said Kindore, only to have his
colleagues shush him. Opiode glared at the flying
squirrel, then turned his attention back to the smil-
ing Markus. They had determined one thing already.
His challenger was for real.
"It is not enough to feed a population in times of
difficulty, stranger. One must be able to defend
them as well" Again he lifted an arm, made sinuous
motions in the air.
"Let those who threaten
beware, beware
THE MOMEMT OF THE MAGICIAN 9
We will not fight
with air, with air
We mold our weapons
with care, so there
Be metallurgical might!"
Fire this time, bright and hot. The Quorum mem-
bers shielded their faces as the set of armor co-
alesced before them, melting out of the flames. Sword,
shield, and long spear accompanied it. The fire
cooled and flickered out.
Notorian moved from his seat to inspect the newly
forged weapons. He hefted the sword, tapped the
armor with it.
"Fine instruments for fighting."
"For one fighter, yes," Markus agreed readily. "For
a trained warrior. But what of the ordinary citizen?
How does he, or she, defend the community?"
Once more he raised his hands, once again he
intoned an invocation none could comprehend. This
he concluded by swinging his cape around in front
of him, to form a funnel in the air.
There was a tinkling sound as something fell from
the base of the funnel. Then another, and another.
It became a metallic clashing as the flow increased,
until the flow of knives was a shining waterfall pouring
from the bottom of the cape.
Notorian the wolf picked one up and tested the
edge. "Finest steel I've ever seen," he declared to the
stunned Quorum. The rush of metal continued until
Trendavi finally raised a hand himself.
"Enough!" Markus nodded, let the cape swirl back
around his neck. As he did so, the clanging waterfall
ceased. The floor of the Quorum chamber was awash
in knives of every shape and size- Markus kicked a
few of them aside and bowed.
"As my employers wish." He swept a hand out to
Alan Dean Fofltcr
10
encompass the armory. "A gift to the Quorum and to
the citizens of Quasequa, my adopted home."
"They're only knives," Cascuyom muttered.