Mayor Andrew turned out to be almost as garrulous as Alaina. This time it suited Wiz because it meant that aside from complimenting the mayor on the village and making agreeable noises, he did not have to talk.
Dinner that evening was a formal affair. All the important people of the village turned out in their holiday best to honor the visitors. The villagers’ manners were strained as they tried to follow what they thought was polite custom in the Capital. It reminded Wiz of a dinner he had attended once where the principals of an American software company were doing their best to entertain and avoid offending a group of powerful Japanese computer executives. That one turned into a rousing success after both sides discovered they shared a strong taste for single-malt scotch consumed in large quantities. For a moment Wiz considered trying to conjure up a bottle of Glenlivet, but he realized it would take more than booze to help this party.
“What is this thing that threatens you anyway?” Wiz asked Andrew during a particularly strained pause in the conversation as the mountainous platter of boiled beef was being removed and replaced with an an equally mountainous plate of roast pork.
Andrew twisted in his chair and pointed. “That!”
Wiz followed the mayor’s finger out the window. Hulking against the night sky was the huge granite hill, its mass and shape cutting off the stars near the horizon.
“The hill?”
“Aye, the hill. We have lived in its shadow too long.”
Wiz realized everyone was looking at him and the mayor.
“Is it dangerous?”
“Dangerous enough,” the mayor said grimly.
“What does it do?”
“It mazes people. Those who climb it are overcome by its power and stricken dumb. For days or even weeks they wander as if simple.”
“Young John fell off it and broke his back,” a slat-thin woman halfway down the table put in. “The healer said it was a wonder that he ever walked again.”
Wiz toyed with the pork that had been heaped on his plate. “Uh, maybe this is a dumb question, but why don’t people just stay off the hill?”
There was stony silence all down the table. Philomen concentrated on his plate and everyone else glared at Wiz.
“Okay, so it was a dumb question,” Wiz muttered.
“The thing is magic and I will not have magic so close to my village,” Andrew said fiercely.
“Look, don’t worry. I’m sure that we can take care of this thing tomorrow so it will never bother you again.”
Somehow the rest of the meal passed off without incident.
Deep in the Wild Wood a wren perched on a finger and trilled out its message. Seklos, now second in command of the Dark League, considered carefully the news the bird had brought.
So, he thought, our Sparrow leaves its nest. Very well, we will be ready when he seeks to return. He dismissed the wren with a flick of his finger and turned to his work. In concert with the others of the Dark League, he had a demon to create. A most powerful and special demon.
As he reached for a spell book Seklos wondered idly what that fool in the Capital meant about attempts on the Sparrow’s life. The Dark League would make only one such attempt. And when it came it would be crushingly, overwhelmingly successful.
Seven : Demon Debug
The three most dangerous things in the world are a programmer with a soldering iron, a hardware type with a program patch and a user with an idea.
—computer saying
The morning was bright and clear. The day promised to be hot, but by the time Wiz and Philomen emerged from the mayor’s house the whole village was astir.
“Oh, this is a great day,” Mayor Andrew told them, rubbing his palms together. “A great day indeed.”
“I am sure it is,” Philomen said soothingly. “We are honored to be here to observe. Now, if you will excuse us, we must consult with your hedge witch before the ceremony.”
As the villagers drifted in the direction of the monolith, Wiz, Philomen and Alaina retired to one corner of the meadow for some shop talk.