Swords & Dark Magic: The New Sword and Sorcery

“I don’t think he’d want it,” Willem muttered. “Master’s an old man, sir. M’lord.” They’d been talking about the old duchess, and kinship, and maybe that was due. “He’s sick.”

“Done for,” Master said.

Tewkmannon asked: “Is it Miphrynes?”

“We don’t mention that name here,” Willem said in a voice he’d hoped would come out strong and forbidding.

“Miphrynes,” Tewkmannon said again. “That black crow.”

“Vulture’s more apt,” Master said under his breath. “I can’t hold him. He won’t come in here. Knows I’m here. I’m sure he knows I’m here. I’m not worth it to him. He knows I can’t do anything. And I can’t. He’s got all the upper town.”

They’d never heard Master talk this way. They didn’t talk about the duke’s wizard. They didn’t talk about the things he did in the high town. But they knew as an article of faith that Master didn’t let him come into the lower town. Miphrynes was afraid of Master. Left him alone.

While Master got older, and sicker, by the year.

“It’s too late. You’re too late…What’s your name?”

“Tewk.” Tewkmannon sank down on the bench at the opposite corner of the table, one hand resting on the scarred tabletop. “Tewk will do. Fyllia’s son.” Now Tewkmannon sounded as if he’d run out of breath in a long, long climb. “It’s that bad, is it?”

“My rival,” Master said, “probably guesses this place exists—in some form. But my students are gone, all but these three. This is all there are.”

For the first time Tewkmannon looked directly at Willem, and then at Almore and Jezzy, and Willem stood there in the realization he was a disappointment to Master and to everybody else in some way he’d never even guessed existed.

It hurt. He didn’t know who Tewkmannon was to make him feel like that. But he wished he could do things he didn’t even guess the name of. And knew he couldn’t.

“The kid can throw an illusion,” Tewkmannon said. “He’s pretty good.”

“He is,” Master said. “Almore’s a pyromant and Jezzy’s a beast-talker—if they live to grow up. If you can wait that long. Who sent you?”

A moment of silence followed. Then Tewk said: “Korianth.” With a directional nod, as if he was talking about the potter’s down the block. “King Osric’s got the force now. Got an army ready to move.”

“Folly, at this point,” Master said. “Jindus isn’t your problem. His hire-ons—they suck up the gold his tax collector bleeds out of the town—and when the town stops bleeding, Jindus as he is will be done. He’s not the problem.”

“This wizard of his.”

“He’s the problem. Jindus is just a convenience, while our enemy gathers the real power.” Master coughed, and went on coughing for a moment. Jezzy moved fast and got him a cup of water. Master drank it.

“What real power?” Tewk asked.

“Demon,” Master said, on his first good breath, and that word spread a chill through the air. Tewk sat back. And Master just shook his head wearily. “Soon enough, it won’t be just gold this town bleeds. It’s here. It’s already here.”

Tewk drew back and sat up. “We’ve got a problem.”

“Oh, a big problem,” Master said, and tapped the scarred table with a long, gnarled finger, making little sounds that was Master trying not to cough. “You’re here to kill Jindus. Good luck. But it won’t solve your problem. These youngsters…they can’t. I don’t know if I can. But here’s what I know. It’s not manifested. It’s here, up in the fortress, but it’s not here, down in the town, you understand me. I don’t think it can hear us. I’m betting heavily it can’t. He’s containing it, mostly, but it sends fingers out, sometimes a lot more of itself. I think—I’m not sure—” Another fit of coughing and a sip of water. “I’m betting Miphrynes is aiming it right for Jindus when it manifests. Big man. Strong. Attractive. Virile, frankly, capable of siring descendants, and that particular demon is a prolific bastard.”

“If we get him—”

“There’s a thing about demons. Hurt them and they don’t think. They don’t think. They’ll go for any port in a storm and it’ll be dangerous as hell.”

Tewk leaned onto the table. “I’ll tell you. Korianth is poised to come in here. King Osric has his army in the field…waiting. A fire in the tower. That’s the signal. I’m to take out Jindus. Light the fire. It’s a simple job. And you have an army at your gates.”

“Demon fodder, if you don’t get Miphrynes with Jindus.”

Tewk’s head dropped a moment.

Then he looked up, and looked around, and looked straight at Willem. “How’s your nerve, kid?”

“Master!” Willem said, but Master was looking at him the same way.

“The students,” Master said, “are all I’ve got. All the town’s got, between them and that. Willem’s baffled the thing. He doesn’t know it. But he has.”

“Me?”

The word just fell out. Willem had time to draw a breath, and then Tewk’s hand shot out and grabbed him by the wrist.

“Master!”

“I’ll be borrowing him,” Tewk said. “I’ve got an army on the march and a cousin I already thought was a damned fool, but maybe he knows something. If what you describe gets Jindus—Korianth isn’t safe, either.”