As soon as he had done, her son flashed some queries at her. To his astonishment, Rap now learned that the two of them had been corresponding mundanely, by messenger, ever since Thrugg reached the forest. He had never bothered to mention the fact, but many of the trolls he and Rap had met on their journey had then gone off to summon known sorcerers to this meeting, here at Shaggi’s castle. Outside the Mosweeps no one would believe that trolls were capable of such organization, and the idea of them acting as messengers would be a joke, a contradiction in terms.
Grunth’s scowl grew more hostile, and for a moment she sat in silence, giving away nothing.
“Well?” her son demanded. “Did they come?”
”Some,” she admitted. She turned her gruesome glare on Rap. “You bring trouble! If that dwarf monster suspects what you do here, then he will enslave us all. No one can resist the power he wields.”
“Will you do nothing? He will come for you anyway, when he gets around to it. He’ll settle with Lith’rian first, I expect, then he’ll come for you.”
He thought he had scored a point; angry flames flickered again.
“How many sorcerers are there in the Mosweeps?” he demanded.
Thrugg was sitting with his knees up like a child, chewing a wad of leaves. “Thousands!”
“Silence!” His mother hurled a bed-size boulder at him in the ambience.
He deflected it easily, grinning a disgusting cud at her. “How many, then? ”
“Fifty, maybe. No more.”
Fifty sorcerers together would wield power to move mountains!
Grunth jumped on Rap’s thought. “So they would, faun, but how do you find them all? How do you bribe a troll, faun? And do you think all fifty together could hurt the Covin?”
Worry it a little, maybe. And how did one bribe a troll? Apparently Thrugg had invited some of those sorcerers to come here for the meeting. Either they had declined, or the witch had sent them home again, or she was keeping them out of sight. Rap had always known that she might refuse to aid his quest, but he had never considered that she might seek to block it. She was vastly more powerful than he was, and so was her son. Although Thrugg seemed more inclined to support Rap at the moment, surely in a crunch he would side with his mother?
Perhaps Rap had endured this nightmare journey to no purpose—the thought was crippling.
“And how many in the Nogids, would you suppose?” The witch’s muzzle wrinkled in a sneer. “None.”
Rap’s heart sank even farther. He sat down again to give himself a moment to consider and took a swig of cold beer. “Zinixo got them already?”
She nodded contemptuously. “You thought you were so smart that no one else would think of that?”
The dwarf had once been warlock of the west. He would have investigated the anthropophagi’s islands very thoroughly in those days.
“When?” Rap demanded.
“About three months ago.” There was a hesitancy there, though. It showed in the ambience, where lies were impossible and even evasion improbable.
“And he conscripted all the sorcerers?”
“Most.” She would volunteer nothing.
Rap took another drink, feeling more despondent than ever. His quest was starting to seem utterly hopeless. Thrugg gulped down his fodder and said aloud, ”Come on, you mangy old hag! What’re you hiding behind that new shielding?”
Her response was a blinding bolt of lightning that shattered rocks in front of his toes. The cave rocked with the blast, the three mundanes yelled out in terror—and Thrugg just sat and leered while gravel ricocheted off his hide. As the echoes died away and ears stopped ringing, a newcomer came strolling out of those sinister shadows at the back. Darad growled. Rap scrambled to his feet. He had never seen such an apparition before.
The man’s skin was a dark molasses shade, but his face and chest and limbs were scrolled with bright white and blue and green tattoos. In size he would rank as taller than an average imp and skinnier, but it was only fat that was missing—the muscles were there and he moved with grace, even barefoot on rock. He wore an apron of white beads that jangled as he moved. He had a red flower in the bush of his hair and a bone through his nose, and when he flashed a smile at Grunth, he revealed very white teeth that had been filed to points.
“Begging your parson, your Omnivorous,” the newcomer said apologetically, “I feel it is time for me to include on your deliverations. ” He turned his chilling smile on Rap and advanced with both hands out and the white beads of his garment clattering. They were human finger bones.
He was a sight to curdle the blood, and yet an enormously exciting one. He was a sorcerer, and probably a strong one. He was also an anthropophagus. Rap knew almost nothing of such people, and had never heard of them leaving their native Nogids, because any other race would kill them on sight. Was this some of Grunth’s doing? Or a Zinixo trick? He bore no loyalty spell that Rap could detect; could even the powers of the Covin achieve that?
“Your repudiation has proceeded you, your Majesty King Rap. I am horrid to make your acquaintance.”
“I am likewise honored,” Rap said warily, submitting to an embrace. He thought of a stormy night many years ago, and a terrified sailor boy running along a beach with several hundred cannibals in close pursuit. None had come this close, fortunately. Those gruesome teeth were smiling much too close as the man continued his speech.
“My full name you would find quite unrenounceable, but you may abominate it to Tok.” The dark eyes shone with amusement over the ends of the bone. It was probably a clavicle. “My title is Tik, convoying a heretical right to certain delicacies when my village feasts. My friends call me Tik Tok.”
“And you call me Rap. I visited your native lands once, Tik Tok, but only briefly.”
“Ah!” The anthropophagus sighed. “It was a shame you could not stay for dinner.”
“The invitation was extended, but I felt I had to rush off.”
Sharpened teeth showed again. “But your green friend remained behind? That was at Fort Emshandar. I was there, as a child. My first feast! But I should like to hear the perpendiculars from you some time.”
“You mean that was how the goblin escaped? You let him go?”
“Of course. My grandfather and some others defected his destiny. Even we do not argue with the Gods, Majesty Rap!”
“You speak impish very well.”
Mischief gleamed in the shiny black eyes. “I picked it up as a youngster, in the kitchens.” Tik Tok swung around in a clink of bones to face the trolls. “And I am delighted to meet Sorcerer Thrugg, the great libertine. Your brother has been telling me how you emasculated so many slaves!”
Thrugg did not rise. “Looks as if I have some more to free,” he said, still grinning like a hungry grizzly.
A line of trolls came lumbering out of that shadowed corner—male and female, ranging in age from a couple of youths up to white-haired oldsters. Big as it was, the chamber began to seem crowded. There was not enough level floor for them all, and some climbed up the slopes and peered down like living gargoyles from shadowed ledges. Darad was backing to the door, looking worried by such impossible odds. Shaggi wore a shamed expression at this treatment of guests.
Three of the newcomers barely showed at all in the ambience and thus were probably not full sorcerers. The other eight were. Every one of the eleven wore a sheen of ensorcelment. Grunth’s occult image seemed to swell and solidify, and her glower had become even more threatening. These were her votaries. No question who ruled here.
Rap cursed himself for a reckless fool. He had blithely let himself be trapped in a shielded building at the mercy of a deposed witch. What sort of woman lurked within that hideous bulk? She was very old. She had been overthrown after ruling a quarter of the world for twenty years, falling back from absolute power to heaving rocks around in a jungle. Had she managed to convince herself that she was enjoying an honorable retirement, or did she see it as humiliating exile? Either way, she would not want him intruding and reopening the wound. And why the gown? All the other trolls were nude. It showed she was not the innocent savage she must have been in her youth. She must know from her years in Hub how trolls were regarded by the rest of the world—and she could read his thoughts much better than he could read hers.
“Will you go now, faun?” she barked. “Or must I use force?”