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By Root 1130 0

began to shake again, he was mesmerized, feeling that he’d been turned to stone with his eyes forced eternally to this tiny stage where elven dweomer swelled and flooded the world with artificial stars and massive rainbows, sheets of pure-colored mists and opaque-tinted fogs while miniature lightning shot and thundered. He heard a voice screaming in his mind: it’s real, it’s all of it real dweomer! Don’t these fools know what they’re seeing? Apparently not, because the crowd was laughing and clapping, calling out words of praise and giggling while the wizard danced and wove his spells, the stage now an inferno of illusionary flames all red and white-hot gold. In the midst of it all Jill stood unmoving, her arms crossed over her chest, her smile gone, her mouth set in barely suppressed rage as she stared across the garden, apparently at nothing. Once he saw a gigantic wolf prowling beside her; then the beast disappeared in a gust of turquoise smoke. Rhodry could watch no longer. He lowered his head to his knees and merely trembled until at last the show ended in a deafening howl of laughter and applause.

As the clapping died away he heard voices, irritable voices, demanding wine, demanding service, but all he could do was clasp his arms tighter round his knees and shake. In his terror he was remembering another night that he’d crumpled into this posture and shaken this way. While he knew that he’d nearly died for Jill, that somehow defending her from insult had nearly gotten him hanged, the details were far beyond him. Then close at hand he heard a woman’s voice, one full of concern.

“Alaena, come here!” It was Malina, hovering over him. “Your footman’s been taken ill. Here, boy, tell me where it hurts. Is it your stomach?”

The idea of his having a stomachache was so preposterous that it broke the spell. Feeling cold sweat run down his cheeks and neck, Rhodry managed to raise his head and look at her.

“I’m not sick, Mistress Malina.” His voice was a dry rasp. “Don’t you see? That was real magic. It was all real.”

“Oh by Baki’s toes!” A dark male voice burst out laughing. “The poor boy’s scared stiff! He thought one of his barbarian witch men was making big magic up on stage. Don’t worry, boy. We won’t let him throw fire at you.”

When everyone laughed, Rhodry tried to struggle to his feet, but Malina pushed him down with a surprisingly strong hand.

“Don’t mock the boy, Tralino! He’ll never get over it if you’re all laughing at him. Oh good, there’s Prynna. Oh, Prynna, can you hear me? Come over and pour wine, girl. The guests are waiting. Now Rhodry, there’s no such thing as real magic, so you’re perfectly safe.”

“Yes, you silly!” It was Alaena, smiling down at him with her wine cup in her hand. “You just rest for a while. We’ll be going home soon, anyway. There’s no danger at all.”

“My dearest guests, do go get some wine and some dessert.” Malina’s voice snapped with command. Once the guests had dispersed, she turned to Alaena and whispered. “The poor boy! I wonder what caused this? Has he ever shown any signs of falling sickness?”

“None. I …”

There was a waft of incense and perfume, and the rustle of long silk robes as the wizard Krysello swept into their circle. His pale hair gleamed, slicked back with sweat.

“My dearest ladies!” He was all smiles and bows. “You look distressed! What’s happened? Aha, I see a man from Deverry, and the poor fellow looks terrified! He knows true magic when he sees it.”

“Oh by the Goddesses themselves!” Malina snarled. “Don’t start him off again, will you! Tell him, please, that you were merely playing tricks up there!”

“Madam, I shall do better than that.”

When the wizard knelt down beside him, Rhodry looked him straight in the face and spoke in Deverrian.

“Are you the man who took Jill from me?”

“So,” he answered in the same language. “You remember somewhat, do you? I’m not. I swear to you on the gods of my people that I’m only a friend of Jill’s and naught more. Now, you’re going to forget about Jill for a little while. You’ll forget until you see the sun tomorrow. Then