The Dragon Revenant - Katharine Kerr [87]
“Behold the marvels of the far north!”
Some ten feet above him an enormous blue flower of flame burst into existence and floated briefly before dissipating. With an awestruck gasp, the crowd surged, packing tightly together. Gwin could feel the fat man’s elbow poking his ribs and restrained an impulse to turn and hit him. Again the wizard flung up his hands; enormous sheets of gold-and-red fire exploded and rippled. Yet the crowd missed an important part of the show, because all at once, as flower after flower of light appeared in the midst of the flames, Wildfolk erupted into manifestation, sylphs darting back and forth, gnomes dancing and grinning all over the stage, and of course the salamanders, leaping and frolicking in the fires and rainbows that swirled around the wizard. Lightning shot; thunder rumbled; the crowd gasped and shrieked as the wizard sang and leapt about the stage, sporting with the Wildfolk as he worked his marvels. When Gwin caught Pirrallo’s eye, the toad mouthed some words; even though it was impossible to hear, Gwin could guess what he was saying. Real magic. This has to be real magic. There in the sweaty press Gwin felt himself turn ice-cold.
The forces of the Light were right in front of them, dancing and singing and playing the utter fool, playing it so well that they’d followed this showman for weeks and never once wondered who he might be. As the brilliant colors swept across and dyed the faces of the crowd, Gwin felt his mind racing, turning this way and that like the twisting gold winds on stage as he desperately tried to work out a plan. Beside him Pirrallo was snaking like the contemptible toad he was. All at once the stage fell quiet and empty; Krysello made a languid bow and announced that he was too weary to go on. Laughing and calling out, the crowd dug deep in pouch and pocket and sent a silver rain of coins rattling onto the stage. While the barbarian girl picked them up, the wizard stood to one side, wiping his face on a rag and drinking out of a waterskin.
“Do you understand what this means?” Pirrallo hissed.
“What do you think I am, as blind as this stinking herd around us? I can see spirits as well as you do. You can forget using your pitiful little magicks on this man. Leave him to me and cold steel.”
“Don’t you insult my powers, you slave-born dog! But we’re not doing anything until I contact the master. As soon as we get back to camp, I’ll call him through the black mirror and make a report. He might want to come himself.”
Gwin said nothing, but he was thinking that the toad-coward was probably right. Howling with laughter Krysello came prancing back to the center of the stage and flung up his arms in a shower of silver sparks. With little yelps of delight the crowd urged him on as he filled the air with plumes of orange-and-blue smoke, all glowy from within. Gwin looked round and saw Rhodry sitting near the red drapes at the rear of the terrace. Although in the shifting colored light reading his expression was difficult, he seemed to be smiling a little as he watched the barbarian girl. All at once Gwin realized who she must be, Rhodry’s woman from Deverry, Jill, he thought her name was. So she’d traveled all this way to find her man, only to die when the Hawks claimed their prize again.
He didn’t really want to think about what was going to happen to Rhodry once the Hawkmaster got his hands on him, whether Gwin turned him over or their guild leader came to get him himself, but of course, it was impossible not to think about it. Gwin supposed that he’d have to do some of the torturing himself, just