Arianne pointed out.
“Even the best of them is more promising than skillful,” Bal-Simba told
her. “They are but half trained and none of them is close to being a match
for any of the off-worlders.” He nodded to Malus and Juvian. “Meaning no
offense, my Lords.”
“None taken,” Juvian replied. “You speak only the simple truth.”
“What about the elf?” Honorious asked.
“Aelric? There is no sign. Perhaps he perished or perhaps he has returned
to his own domains.”
“Well then,” Agricolus said. “We must still face these others. What chance
have we?”
“If they have the computer they can take the Sparrow’s work and turn it
against us,” Bal-Simba said grimly. “Now time is on their side. We must
deny them as much of it as we can.”
“You mean attack them now?” Arianne asked.
“As soon as we can. They will only grow stronger.”
The wizards shifted in their chairs. Arianne opened her mouth as if to ask
another question and then thought better of it.
“Well,” said Juvian at last. “I see no way to better our position by
waiting.”
No one at the table was under any illusion about their chances. That was
written in their faces. However cowards do not gain the magical power that
lifts a man or woman into the ranks of the Mighty, still less are they
chosen to sit on the Council of the North.
“Very true,” said Malus with a completely uncharacteristic seriousness.
“With the Sparrow and his friends gone there is no one left who is truly a
master of the new magic.”
“No, wait!” Moira shouted. “There is another!”
Forty-two: A NEW PLAYER
Judith was awake and sitting up in bed when Bronwyn and Moira came in.
“Hey Bronwyn, look at this.” She held up her right arm, clenched a shaky
fist and beamed. “Not bad, eh?”
Then she caught her visitors’ mood and sobered. “Is something wrong?”
“A great deal, I am afraid,” Bronwyn told her.
Moira stepped up to the bed. “My Lady, you know that Wiz and the others
were hiding in the halfway world to use a computer?”
Judith nodded, eyes wide.
“They were . . .” Moira stopped and took a deep, ragged breath. “They were
discovered there and apparently overwhelmed.”
“Oh shit!” Judith breathed. Her eyes began to fill with tears. “I’m really
sorry, Moira.”
Moira reached out and patted her hand. Then she gathered herself. “Our one
chance now is to strike quickly against these other two wizards from your
world, but we have no one who is expert with the new magic.”
“You have me,” Judith said quietly. “I may not be in Wiz’s league, but I
helped write the compiler and I’m a pretty damn good programmer.”
Moira sighed. “Thank you, my Lady. I had hoped you would say that.”
“There is more,” Bronwyn put in sharply. “Lady, before you can do
anything, you must be further healed. The spells to do so are dangerous
and could harm you.”
Judith didn’t say anything.
“I know this is difficult,” Moira said sympathetically. “Craig is your
friend.”
“Ex-friend,” Judith said coldly. She looked up at Moira, her face white
and her lips pressed into a bloodless line.
“Do you understand what he did to me?” she asked, her voice shaking. “He
came to me when I was helpless and he used me! He pried things out of me I
never intended to tell anyone. Then he took that information and he turned
it against my friends.” Her eyes glittered with a mixture of tears and
rage.
“I feel like I’ve been raped. If there is anything I can do to get back at
that son of a bitch, I’m for it.”
“Even at the cost of your health?” Bronwyn asked sharply. “Understand
Lady, this healing spell could leave you worse than you are now with no
hope of recovery.”
“I don’t care if it leaves me confined to a goddamn iron lung! If I can
take that slimy little bastard down with me it will be worth it.”
Bronwyn nodded and motioned Moira to one side.
“Well?” Moira demanded. “She is willing.”
“She is blinded by anger,” Bronwyn said coldly. “She is not thinking