Shandie frowned. “Why Gath?”
“Because he’ll know if I’m going to, so he’ll tell me beforehand. He’s our advance warning! If he foresees disaster while we’re speaking, again he’ll tell us before it happens.” The warlock shot an apprehensive glance at Inos, who was breathing fire and pawing the ground, figuratively.
“Can my son foretell the future better than you can, your Omnipotence?”
He waved his hands like shovels. “Not better, no. This is hard to explain. I can foresee things. Most sorcerers can, some better than others. But it’s a noisy, conspicuous thing to do, and most of us don’t do it much, because it can be extremely confusing, and even dangerous. Sorcerers have been known to fall into unbreakable trances trying to decide between conflicting futures, and others stumble upon their own deaths. Your son does it all the time because he can’t help it, so he’s learned to live with it. If he wasn’t the sort of young man he is, it would have driven him insane. Fortunately his range is short, and his power is so weak that it barely shows up. It’s sort of diffuse. Like a fly buzzing in the background. Unless you’re looking for it, you don’t see it. Hear it. Whatever.”
Gath was positively leering now, watching Inos. Perhaps bait was not quite what Raspnex had in mind for him, but it was close enough. She clenched her fists and restrained her temper, waiting to hear what Shandie would say.
He was obviously unhappy. “And if you detect Covin agents, what’s the alternative?”
“Then we try to spread the word privately among the other directors, as many as we can reach. Later, in small groups.”
The imperor glanced around the little room, studying the faces of the dwarves and goblins. He seemed to find little comfort in them. “That kills any chance of reaching Nordland by midsummer.”
“We’ll have to split up anyway, sooner or later.”
“I suppose so. If that’s the best we can do, then we have to risk it. How about the escape afterward? The proctor was right, you know. The Covin will want to know what’s been discussed, and it can certainly find out.”
Raspnex shrugged his massive shoulders. “You and I and the boy remain. The others should leave right away. Jarga’s got a boat waiting. As for us—as you may have guessed, this cottage is shielded. I know of several other shielded houses. We’ll hole up in one of them and wait until the hue and cry dies down.”
Shandie said, “Umph!” He did not look at Inos. Nor did he look overjoyed at the thought of half a year under house arrest in beautiful downtown Gwurkiarg. Gath was still grinning.
“Give up, your Majesty?” Raspnex jeered.
Shandie scowled. “I don’t like it, but as they say you can’t make chickens without breaking eggs.”
The warlock turned to Gath. “You willing, young ‘un?”
Gath sniggered. “No, sir.”
Raspnex glared. “No?”
“Ask my mother, sir.”
All eyes swung to Inos. Her skin prickled. What she was about to suggest might provoke an attack by the Covin within minutes. Faking a calm she did not feel, she smiled innocently at Shandie. “I believe you made my husband a promise?”
The imperial scowl deepened. “I did. I’m not sure it’s still valid, though. I take it you don’t approve of your son being involved in this?”
“I think it’s the craziest nonsense I ever heard and I certainly won’t let him be dragged in. I won’t have anything to do with it myself, either. I think you’re going about this the wrong way.”
The men all stared at her, and she wondered if the sorcerers were prying into her mind. They might find a few surprises in there.
Raspnex had certainly become very thoughtful. “Tell us.” She pointed to a little shelf above the hearth. “Can you make that candlestick fall down?”
“Yes.”
“Can you make it fall down tomorrow?” He nodded, his eyes like agates.
“When do you rattle the ambience, as my husband calls it? Now, when you cast the spell, or later, when it takes effect?”
“I dunno.” The warlock scratched his beard again. “Let’s try it.”
There was a moment’s silence, and then the candlestick fell off the shelf.
“Well?” he demanded, looking around.
“When it works, mostly,” Moon Baiter said, and the others were nodding.
“I felt almost nothing at the beginning,” Jarga said. “What I thought,” the warlock agreed. “That’s when the power acts. Holy rocks! She’s got it!”
With a surge of relief, Inos turned to the jotunn beside her. “How long would it take us to run to your ship and set sail?”
Jarga smiled broadly. “About an hour. Less.”
“Gath?”
He nodded vigorously, as if so full of mirth that he did not trust himself to speak.
“And he does it?” she asked.
More gleeful nods. “Yes he does, Mom.”
“Wait a minute!” Shandie barked. “You’ve lost me.”
”Oh?” Inos said. “You need me to spell it out for you?” He glared. “Please!”
“Quite simple. The warlock appears before the Directorate in a couple of weeks. But he does it now. Then we depart.”
Shandie blinked. “Is that possible?”
Raspnex had his gruesome leer back. “I don’t see why not. I’ve never tried it, but if I can do it to a candlestick, I can do it to me.”
“And the Covin won’t notice you doing it? Now, I mean.”
“How can it? I told you this room is shielded. I transport us two weeks into the future. Proctor said they’d still be in session in two weeks, so we might as well use that time. I send us there for ten minutes, or an hour, however long we think we need. We do what we want to do, and then we’re not there anymore.” He uttered a dwarf’s millstone chuckle, more amused than Inos could ever recall seeing him.
Shandie looked ready to tear his hair. “How do you get the power through the shielding? I thought—”
“Don’t. We walk out that door two weeks from now and I transport us to the Treasury.”
The imperor shook his head disbelievingly. “This is really going to work?”
“Ask Prince Gathmor.”
“We do go on the ship,” Gath said quietly. “Gurx? That’s its name. Her name, I mean. I saw that earlier. All of us, and the ambassador, too.” He pulled a face. “And dreg Vork.”
The imperor wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “God of Madness! We go before the Directorate two weeks from now, but they can’t follow us because we left today? Inos, who taught you this?”
Triumph felt very, very good. “I worked it out. It’s just an extension of the kind of paradox Gath pulls off all the time. I don’t suppose it would work backward, would it?”
“Ugh!” Raspnex shuddered. “Go and do it yesterday, you mean? I certainly won’t try that! But I can’t see why not tomorrow, or two weeks from now.”
“And you can take me, too?” Shandie asked uneasily. “You don’t go!” Inos said. “I told you you’ve been going at this the wrong way. Forgive me, Omnipotence, but I don’t think begging is the best way to influence a collection of, er, mineowners and whatever else it was you called them.”
Raspnex was glaring now. So, she saw, were Frazkr and old Wirax. They must be reading her thoughts.
So, apparently was Jarga. “Gang of ornery, miserly, bullheaded, rockbrained dwarves,” she remarked with a smirk.
“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far,” Inos said gratefully. “But remember that Dwanish and the Impire are at war. If Sh—if his Majesty appears before them, claiming to be rightful imperor, it is going to distract . . . Well, let’s say that the debate may stray from the subject you wish to discuss.”
There was an ugly pause, then Shandie said tactfully, “I can see how the discussion could become quite prolonged.” It would take hours, or weeks, and achieve nothing. “What are you suggesting?” Raspnex growled, but there was a sudden glint in his stony eyes.
“I think that a push might work better than a pull, your Omnipotence. I think the man who gatecrashes the Directorate should be Zinixo himself.”
Shandie said, “Holy Balance!” and started to smile. The two goblins laughed aloud.
Then so did Raspnex. He guffawed. “Have you been talking to elves, ma’am? I see! Well, this could be more fun than I thought! A lot of them will remember . . . I wonder if I can match his taste in foul language? Insults? Threats? Absolutely forbid them to tell anyone about the new protocol, of course?”
“Make it up as you go along,” Inos said. Now the tension was flooding out of her and she was beginning to shake. “Don’t forget that rockbrained bit.”
The warlock glanced around at the others, the sorcerers. “Any arguments? Good. Then let’s try it. Help me with the change.”
He flickered and became Zinixo. Inos caught her breath. It had been almost twenty years, and he was no longer a youth, but she would never forget that sneer, that vicious face.