Chapter Two: New Companions

Except for the golden chain the niche was empty. No doubt it had lain there undisturbed since the fall of Aligoth.

Gingerly Wist extended one finger to touch the cold metal. The thing seemed innocent enough, but you never could tell. She had heard of cunning traps set for thieves, baited with just such baubles as this. It was best to be cautious, especially when alone, especially in Aligoth.

On the other hand, Voltan would be delighted if she could present him with this chain - loot from the Witch City was always valuable in the markets of civilized towns. The chain might even have some magical property to make it more valuable still.

She touched the chain lightly, then instantly snatched back her hand. Nothing happened. Good. Probably not a trap, then. Again she touched it, this time firmly, then gave it a little tug before pulling back her hand. Again nothing happened. She reached a third time into the niche and this time when she withdrew her hand the chain was in it.

Wist grinned. This was just what she needed to get her out of the trouble that Blister was going to stir up with Voltan. Lightheartedly she put the chain around her neck and clasped it in front of her with the jewelled clasp.

Suddenly the chain seemed to thrum with a strange power. An instant later a tiny, gold-coloured figure appeared before her, bowing low, a man-shape no higher than Wist's knee.

Wist screamed, and without thinking undid the clasp. The tiny man disappeared, and the chain ceased to thrum.

The big, silent room was gloomy with shadows, and utterly still. When her heart had slowed again, Wist bent down to examine the marble floor. There were no footprints in the thick dust.

She clasped the chain. Again the golden man appeared, but he did not bow. Instead he stared at Wist and at the gloomy chamber with the puzzled expression of one who finds unfamiliar things in a familiar place.

Wist blinked hard, but the strange man remained. Though she was not now very afraid, she took a step or two back, and kept her hands near the jewelled clasp, ready to unfasten it if necessary. Nervously she returned the tiny man's puzzled stare.

He wore a white tunic, and his belt and sandals were white also. His hair was gold like his skin, but his lips were red and his eyes deep blue from one corner to the other, with eyeballs slitted like a cat's. His ears were slightly pointed.

Wist felt no danger from him, and her hands slowly fell to her sides. Then the small man bowed again, and spoke.

"My lady, I do not know you," he said in a voice that was high and small. "Does Lord Kalassin know that you have summoned me?"

"Huh? Lord Who?" blurted Wist. She was still trying to make up her mind whether the golden man was real, and hadn't really taken in what he said. There was something strange in his accent, too, that she could not place.

"Lord Kalassin of the Council," the man repeated. "Is not this his stronghold? Yet it is strangely desolate. Has Kalassin fallen, then? Who rules the Council now, my lady? Has Lord Fladnag won at last? Or the Lady Freya? What has befallen Aligoth?"

"Th-there isn't any Council," stammered Wist. "Not any more, not for hundreds of years, or thousands. I've never heard of the people you mentioned but I think they must all be dead." When the golden man did not at once reply, she added, "Nobody lives here now."

"Dead! Kalassin and the rest? And I frozen for centuries in a hole in the great lord's wall! Well, that is a joke. Ha-ha! But what happened, my lady? Did they destroy themselves at last?"

Wist nodded dumbly. Could this really be happening?

"Do you mean you were there?" she whispered. "In Aligoth? In the old days?"

"Why, certainly," replied the golden man. "I was fashioned in this very hall by Lord Kalassin himself to serve him in his battles with Fladnag, Pruella, and the rest of those ambitious old buzzards on the Council. In those days I was three times the height of a full-grown man, swift as an eagle, mighty as a thunderstorm rolling down from the Peaks of Dismay." He looked down at himself and gave a wry grin. "I am certainly smaller now. That is because I borrow my size and power from the wearer of the chain, and you, little witchling, are not yet grown great."

Then, seeing that Wist's expression grew more and more confused with every word he spoke, the golden man said, "But perhaps you do not yet know what I am - forgive me. My name is Tormadeus, my lady, and I am what folk are pleased to call a demon."

Wist drew back in alarm, and Tormadeus hastily added, "No, no, not that kind of demon! I won't bite your head off. It is my task to serve the wearer of Kalassin's golden chain, and I hope that you will find me useful. But may I know my lady's name?"

Wist told him that, and much else: of Blister and Voltan, of the city of Thelos - which in Aligoth's great days had been a fishing village - and of her own training in sorcery.

"Ah, yes!" Tormadeus chuckled on hearing this last item. "The Six Simple Spells! Let me see, now: one, Concealment; two, Fairy Light; three, Witch Fire; four, Clear Seeing; five, Healing Touch; and six, Voice of Stentor. Is that the list still?"

"Yes," nodded Wist. "Except the last one. We call it Thunder Voice nowadays. But, oh, what am I going to do now? I suppose I had better get back and face Voltan. Then you'll be serving him, you know - I won't be allowed to keep you."

"That doesn't matter to me, of course," the demon replied. "I am made to serve the wearer of the chain, no matter who it may be. But I am serving you now, Lady Wist, and so I should tell you that unless you command me to reveal myself, no one but you can see me or hear me."

"Then Voltan wouldn't know that you existed, as long as I'm the one that's wearing the chain. Is that the way it works?"

Tormadeus nodded.

"Then all I have to do - no, it would never work. Voltan is going to want the chain even if he doesn't know about you. And if he did let me keep it then Blister would - "

Suddenly the demon shouted, "Look out! Guard the chain!" and threw himself at a target somewhere behind Wist's back.

She screamed, and spun around, but it was too late. Deft hands reached around her and unclasped the chain, and Tormadeus vanished. The light feet that had approached so near without being heard now carried the treasure rapidly away.

At once Wist thought, "Blister!," but the slim form she glimpsed escaping was not that of her tormentor. There was a chance, then!

Hurriedly she made the sign and whispered the word for the Thunder Voice. And when she next spoke her voice was like the braying of a hundred trumpets and the bellowing of a thousand bulls.

"Stop, thief! Stop, or I'll turn you into an oyster! Come back, in the count of three!"

The very building shook as the echoes rang through the empty halls, and Wist had to cover her own ears to mute the pain.

"One!" she roared, when a couple of seconds had gone by. She walked a little way down the hall the thief had taken. There was no sign of him.

"Two!" she thundered. But already she had guessed that her threat had failed. Not surprising - no one who knew much about sorcery would have believed it.

"Three!"

She felt a light tap on her shoulder, and whirled around in alarm. Before her stood a grinning boy of about her own age. He was not quite as tall as she was, but the way he held himself suggested quickness and agility. His hair was a scruffy black mop, and his deep blue tunic and soft leather boots looked worse for wear than any clothing of Wist's. She stared at him coldly.

"What have you - "

The boy shrieked and started to scamper away as the full force of the Thunder Voice hit him at close range.

Wist reddened, and quickly made the sign to undo the spell.

"I'm sorry," she called after him. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

The boy returned, grinning again.

"I'm Heron," he said. "I'm a thief. Here's your jewellery back."

Wist took the chain and put it on. It was less of a shock this time when Tormadeus appeared a short distance away, though it took her a moment to remember that the boy Heron would be unable to see or to hear him. This was just as well.

"You have only to command me, Lady Wist," the demon said at once, "and I will break this blackguard's toes for him. That should teach him a lesson."

Wist was nearly angry enough to agree, but contented herself by saying, "You should be ashamed of yourself! What gives you the right to go around taking things that belong to other people?"

Heron shrugged. His grin didn't change.

"I told you," he said, "I'm a thief. Well, an apprentice thief. It's my job to take things from people. Anyway, the chain isn't really yours. I watched you take it from that funny little cupboard in the wall, and I bet it was just an accident that you found it at all."

"That doesn't matter," retorted Wist. "I was the one who found it."

"Well, you've got it back now, anyway," Heron said. "Say, you couldn't really turn me into an oyster, could you?"

"No," Wist admitted. "I'm just an apprentice too." Suddenly she smiled, surprising herself. "Were you really afraid that I would?"

"Naw," Heron replied. "Well, just a bit, maybe. Enough so that I didn't want to take the chance. Anyway, I haven't met many sorcerers. I wanted to come back and talk to you."

"I haven't met many thieves," Wist told him, "but - oh, my goodness, look how dark it's getting. I'd better try to find my way back to my camp, Heron. I'm not supposed to be out past dark, especially in this place. Don't you have to be somewhere? Who's your master?"

"Not master, mistress," returned the boy. "Her name is Yinna, and she's a fine thief. But she never makes any money because she gives away nearly everything she steals. We'd be rich except for that, or at least not poor. But poor we are, and I've had enough of it. Actually, I think I've just run away."

"You think you've run away?"

Heron laughed.

"I was just making up my mind when I ran into you. I haven't thought about it much again until just now."

"And will you?"

"Run away? Yes. I like Yinna, but I'm sick of the life we lead. And I couldn't tell her that I want to leave. She just wouldn't understand. So running away is all that's left."

"And what are you going to do?" asked Wist. "Be a thief? That won't be easy for an apprentice, you know."

"I'm pretty good," Heron assured her. "At some things, anyway - Yinna says that I'm twice as good a pickpocket as she was at my age, and she wasn't bad. So I guess I'll stay a thief for at least a while - I won't have any trouble keeping myself in food and clothing, at least, and that's all I need. There's something else I want to do, though, if I get a chance."

"What?"

Heron looked a bit embarrassed, though the grin never left his face.

"I want to go home."

"Where's that?" Wist's voice was puzzled. "Aren't you an orphan too?"

It was a logical question. Apprentices to the footloose trades of sorcery and thieving were almost always orphans. The life they led was not one that those with a home and family were likely to choose.

Heron nodded.

"Sure I am. That isn't what I meant. I meant my home country. Did you ever hear of Eladeria? That's where I'm from, according to Yinna. Ever since she told me that, years ago, I've wanted to go there someday, and see it for myself. But it's a long way, across the sea, and I don't know if I'll ever get there."

"Eladeria! All sorcerers know that name!" exclaimed Wist. "That's where Pala came from, and she was the greatest sorcerer of all time. I never heard of anyone going there, though."

"No," agreed Heron. "Neither have I. But if I really came from Eladeria then it must be possible to get back there again. Anyway, I'm not going to worry about it. And you shouldn't either. It sounds like you're already in trouble with your master - you'd better get going. Maybe we'll meet again sometime."

"I think we'd both better get going," Wist replied. "And fast. That is if you don't mind, Heron. I want to go with you, at least as far as Thelos. That is where you're going, isn't it?"

"Yes, but - "

"Well, you'll find it's easier getting there if you have a sorcerer along. Oh, Heron, I've been wanting to run away for the longest time, but there just wasn't any way I could do it on my own. With each other we both have a better chance. And I've got something else I never had before, too, that should help a lot."

"What's that?"

"Later. There's no time to explain now. You'll let me come?"

Even in the half-light she could see the uncertainty in Heron's eyes. He's probably wondering if I'll slow him down, she thought. But he must realize that my magic can help him as much as he can help me.

Then Heron put out his hand. She shook it, and they both laughed nervously.

"Come on," Heron said. "Let's move."

"To the highway? They might be watching the gate."

"To the docks. We'll stay down there somewhere tonight and see if we can flag down a boat in the morning. With any luck we could be in Thelos the day after tomorrow."

"Lead on," Wist said. "It sounds good to me."

Luckily Heron knew where he was going, having entered the building by another door. A few minutes later the two of them were pattering down a winding street that sloped towards the river, with Tormadeus the golden demon invisible in their wake.

Voltan, meanwhile, was beside himself, whether with rage or worry even he couldn't tell. Night was falling fast, and still there was no sign of his two companions.

"Shrivel and blast them!" he muttered as the shadows thickened into darkness. "Do I have to go out looking for them in this dreadful, dangerous place? I should have never - but what's that? Footsteps!"

No sooner had the sorcerer spoken than a clear, musical voice, a woman's, rang out across the square in greeting.

"Hail, stranger!"

By now the night was dark enough that Voltan could not at first see the owner of the voice.

"If this turns out to be a ghost," he told himself bitterly, "I really am going to tear up that map! Why didn't it send me someplace warm and safe?"

But then the woman stepped out of the shadows into a shaft of moonlight, and opened her hands to show that she bore no weapon. Voltan was relieved. She seemed solid enough, and her expression was friendly, if cautious. But he also noticed that her cloak was grey with no trace of pattern or colour, the garment, perhaps, of someone who lived by stealth.

"Time to act like a sorcerer, old man," he told himself. "Never hurts to impress a stranger."

"Greetings, lady," he intoned in his best professional manner. "A strange meeting in this desolate place!"

"Strange indeed!" the woman returned, still half-smiling. "I rather thought I'd have the place to myself, wizard. But perhaps it is a fortunate meeting, also, for I have lost something here in Aligoth that perhaps your power would help me find."

"And what might that be, lady?" Voltan inquired. "Some trinket, perhaps? A purse of coins? With such a thing my small abilities may be of value."

"No, nothing like that," the woman told him. "Actually, I've lost an apprentice. Went away and never came back, just before dark. Do your small abilities help with apprentices?"

"What? You too?" Voltan dropped his professional manner as abruptly as he had put it on. He looked around him nervously, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "You don't suppose there's something around here eating them, do you? You never know in a place like this. But I'm missing two - an assistant and an apprentice. And Spells of Finding just don't work properly on people. Mine don't, anyway. Poor Wist! I hope nothing has happened to her!"

"Wist is lost," came a flat voice from the shadows. "Or else she has run away."

The grey-clad woman swung around to face the intruder. In her hand was a dagger that had not been there a moment before.

But Voltan said, "Lady, this is my assistant, Blister. Blister, I would like you to meet -"

"Yinna," said his guest, restoring the dagger to its secret place among the folds of her cloak. "How do you do?"

Instead of replying Blister took a long moment to study Yinna's face and her roadworn apparel. When she spoke it was to Voltan.

"Has this woman seen Wist?" she asked.

Yinna answered for him.

"No, I haven't. In fact, my apprentice is missing also. His name is Heron. Perhaps you have seen him?"

"Then they have undoubtedly run away together," Blister said, ignoring the question. "Wist gave me the slip while she was pretending to explore a building. I hoped she would come back here, of course, but now I see that she must have met with this Heron and run off with him. Well, it's a pity, but it can't be helped."

"Can't be helped!" cried Voltan. "What on earth do you mean?"

"In this city there must be ten thousand places they could hide," Blister said. "Where would we begin to look? And how long will it take them to leave Aligoth altogether? Not long. And how could we find them then?"

"But surely, Blister, you could find them if anyone could!" Voltan urged her. "You have skill in such matters!"

"Some," his assistant agreed. "But on these stone streets even a clumsy quarry leaves no track."

Voltan scowled.

"No, of course, you are right. The thing is impossible. If only there were some way of knowing which direction they had gone! That would at least be a start."

Blister shrugged. "Even then - who can say how far they have gone? There is little we can do."

"It is hopeless to search for them?" Voltan asked.

"I fear so," Blister replied.

"Alas," cried Yinna. "What will become of them? Poor children! I would give all my gold to have Heron back!"

"Well, I will look for them," Blister said. "I will do my best."

"What?" exclaimed Voltan. "I thought you said it was hopeless!"

"Perhaps I spoke hastily," Blister answered. "Now I am less sure. Wait for me here. I should be back soon."

"There's no need for you to go alone," put in Yinna. "I will help you."

"I always work alone," Blister told her. "You must stay here in case I am wrong and they return this way. Farewell."

"Wait!" cried Voltan. "At least tell us where you intend to look for them."

"Where I should go myself," answered Blister, "if I were in their shoes. To the docks."

And with that she slid away purposefully into the shadows, as silently as if she had been one of them. "She would be a good thief," remarked Yinna when she was gone.

"She was one," Voltan said, "but the Thieves' Guild expelled her; unjustly, she says. She has served me well - a useful, if sometimes frightening person!"

"Let us hope she proves her usefulness now!" Yinna replied.

Voltan nodded, and drew his cloak closer about him. The night was turning cool.

"I don't like this place," he said. "Dead magicians make mean ghosts."