“Well, we’re here,” Wiz said a trace sharply. “Let’s see the thing that’s
causing all the fuss.”
With the growing importance of Wiz’s new magic, and the spreading word
that he was from beyond the World, there was a growing tendency to ascribe
anything out of the ordinary to the new magic. Normally Arianne and
Bal-Simba did not take the villagers’ reports this seriously, still . . .
As they climbed the dune Wiz saw four dragons flying complex figure eight
patterns off the beach, obviously on guard.
“If this is another piece of driftwood,” he muttered to Jerry as they
toiled up the sand dune, “I’ll . . .”
Then he came over the rise and saw what was down on the beach.
The villagers had dragged it further up the beach, above the tide line.
Now they clustered in knots at a respectful distance.
Off to one side the village hedge witch conferred nervously with a
blue-robed wizard of the Mighty. Occasionally he would look over at the
thing as if to make certain it had not moved under its own power.
It was worth looking at, Wiz had to admit. To the fisherfolk of this
isolated island it must have seemed strange beyond all imagining.
One wing was crumpled under it and the other canted into the air. The
front of the body was stove in, apparently from hitting the water. As they
got closer Wiz could smell the sharp chemical reek of gasoline.
“An airplane,” Danny said.
“Perhaps, but there is magic here as well,” Moira said.
Wiz didn’t have his wife’s nose for magic, so he fished out the magic
detector he carried in his pouch. The crystal glowed a strong green as he
pointed it at the craft.
Magic all right. But gasoline as well. He felt the hair begin to rise on
his neck. Whatever this thing was, it was very, very wrong.
“Moira, you and the others stay back. Jerry and I will go in for a closer
look.”
Moira nodded. “Be careful, love.”
“Very careful.”
Wiz and Jerry half-stumbled, half-slid down the seaward face of the dune,
oblivious to the sand that was trickling into their shoes. As they got
onto the beach, they split up. Wiz approached from the tail and Jerry
eased toward the crushed nose. There was no sign of movement.
The sea breeze swished through the grasses at the edge of the beach,
drowning out the villagers’ whispers and dulling the wizards’ conversation
to an unintelligible murmur.
“Look at this!” Jerry called. “It’s got a gasoline engine.”
As Wiz ducked under the wing of the plane to join him, Jerry reached out
and gave the cowling fasteners an expert twist. Then he flipped the
cowling back to expose the power plant.
“High output two-stroke,” he said looking it over. “That thing probably
puts out ninety horses in spite of its size.” He looked further. “No
muffler. If that thing was a two-stroke the villagers should have heard it
coming for miles.”
“It had to be running,” Wiz said. “But that’s impossible.”
“Maybe not,” Jerry pointed to the front of the plane. “Look at the prop.
Only one blade bent. That means it wasn’t turning when it went in.”
Wiz knelt down beside the propeller. “If it crashed here it’s not
surprising. That engine couldn’t possibly run in this World.”
“Do you think it was sucked through from our world?”
Wiz shrugged. “Maybe, but how? And why? Anyway, the thing’s obviously not
dangerous now. Let’s get the others down here.”
Moira and Danny quickly joined them at the wreck. The other wizards kept
their distance.
“It’s our technology, all right,” Wiz said as the others came up. “No
cockpit, so it was a drone of some kind.”
“What about the magic?” Moira asked.
Wiz looked at his magic detector. “That seems to be concentrated in the
boxes in the mid-section.”
“If I didn’t know better I’d say that was an instrument bay,” Jerry said,
ducking under the up-tilted wing and squatting down beside it.
“Don’t be too sure you know better.”
Jerry popped the fasteners and lifted the covering. Inside was a wild
tangle of wires and printed circuit boards leading back to several oddly