The place was a cheerful babble of excited voices chattering, calling, crying wares, and shouting. Here, there was a cheer as a pavilion was raised to its full height, followed immediately by a groan as the center pole slipped on the frozen earth and the tent billowed to the ground again. There, children chased one another between the tents and through the crowds, shrieking their excitement. Over yonder a horse whinnied and a bull bellowed. Somewhere else musicians played on pipe and drum and tambourine. From the river bank came the chant of boatmen pulling in unison to bring their boat ashore.
The frosty air was rich with the smell of roasting chestnuts and mulled spiced wine. It smelled of horses and people, garlic and new leather. Of faraway places and pine smoke. It was a wonderful odor and Wiz drank it in eagerly as they let the crowd carry them along.
Ice film strained and cracked from motion where no motion should be. Another jerk, and another and another until the ice flaked away from what had once been a human hand. The skeletal fingers convulsed and tightened to form a parody of a fist.
“Wiz look out!” Moira’s words brought him out of his reverie as her hand on his bicep guided him away from a large and uninviting mud puddle. Every morning fresh straw and tanbark was spread to keep mud from fairgoers’ boots, but in short order it was trampled, crushed and dragged into the slushy dirt.
Moira’s eyes were laughing. “I believe the expression is ‘wake up and die right.’ “
“Sorry,” he mumbled “I got distracted.” Moira’s smile and resigned sigh told him she was all too familiar with her husband’s absent-mindedness. Looking at her like that he was reminded once again of how much he loved her. “Let’s go check out the jeweler’s row,” he suggested. “Perhaps they will have something fit for a queen.”
Moira inclined her head regally. “Very well You may proceed Us to guard Us from the mud.”
Rocks shifted, clods of frozen earth fell free and the once-living sat erect in his icy grave. The misshapen head turned neither right nor left but the eyelids lifted on still-frozen eyeballs. Moving in uncoordinated jerks and broad swipes it began to dear the rest of the rubble from its form.
A massive wound left the brain half exposed to the freezing air, but scraps and shards began to return. Of true consciousness there was none, nor soul nor spirit, nor coherent memories. But there were reflexes, and skills learned long and well at very fundamental levels. For the animating intelligence that was sufficient.
There was snow drifted against the windows, but the room in the Wizards’ Keep was warm and cozy. A wood fire crackled and danced in the stone fireplace, perfuming the air with cedar. With its carved furniture of dark oak, stone walls, and diamond-paned windows, the place looked positively medieval. With its overflowing litter of scrolls, wooden tablets, and a large crystal ball on a stand, it looked like a magician’s study. With the letters of glowing fire hanging above the two occupied work-tables, the remains of sandwiches beneath the “displays,” the pot of industrial-strength tea in a corner and the flowcharts scrawled in charcoal on one whitewashed wall, it looked like a programmer’s workroom. In fact it was both, and the effect managed to be oddly harmonious in spite of the contrasts.
Wiz’s desk was deserted, but Danny and Jerry were hard at work. Actually Danny was surfing the Internet and Jerry was just doodling, but they were both doing it with the fierce concentration which is the hallmark of a good programmer and the bane of a good programmer’s Significant Other.
“Going to the fair tomorrow?” the younger, slighter, man asked over his shoulder when he reached a pausing place.
Jerry Andrews shrugged his massive shoulders. He was a big man and if he was somewhat soft, he was definitely not fat. “I dunno. Hadn’t really thought about it.”
Danny spun his chair around and grinned. That’s the advantage of having kids. You gotta think about things like the fair.”
“I’m not sure I see that as an advantage,” Jerry said slowly. “If Malkin were here I’m sure she’d want to go.” He paused “But then that’s why Malkin’s not here. It’s bad enough having to return the stuff she’s lifted and make explanations here and in town. At the fair…” He shuddered.