“Our best servants are creatures of the dark. On Mid-Summer’s Day their power is at its weakest. Our dragon allies and our others seek as best they can, but there is so much magic upon the land that it is hard to scan.” He gestured into the Sea of Scrying. Atros looked and saw sparks and patches of magic everywhere.
“Someone mighty enough to be worth the risk of a wizard like Patrius must leave a track even through that,” the giant magician objected.
The newly made black robe lowered his head. “We have found no sign, Master.”
Atros bit his lip thoughtfully. It was possible for a magician to hide his presence through cloaking spells, but such spells usually betrayed that something was being hidden. Either the League’s servants were unusually inept or this magician from beyond the World was extremely powerful. Someone that powerful might indeed tip the balance against the League.
Unless . . .
“Is there sign of aught unusual in the cities of the North?”
“Nothing, Master, save what you know. Nothing unusual anywhere in the North’s territories.”
“Then perhaps he whom we seek is not within the North’s territories,” Atros said suddenly. “Patrius performed his Great Summoning on the Fringe of the Wild Wood? Then search the Fringe most carefully. And extend your search into the Wild Wood itself.”
“Thy Will, Master,” said the Watcher. “But there is no sign of anything unusual on the Fringe. Besides, it will mean weakening our search of the North’s lands.”
“If he was in the North’s lands we would have some sign ere now,” Atros said. “Perhaps he goes another way to mislead us.”
It was the Master’s turn to rub his chin thoughtfully. “If he pushes into the Wild Wood he brings himself closer to our servants and his magic will stand out even more strongly against the non-human magics of that place.”
“Only if he uses magic,” Atros said. “If he weaves little or none he will be much harder to find, will he not?”
“What kind of wizard travels without magical protection?”
“A most powerful and dangerous one. So search carefully.” Atros paused for a moment, looking down into the Sea once more.
“But our alien wizard will not find it so easy to shield his travelling companion,” he said. “Tell your searchers to look carefully for signs of a hedge witch in the Wild Wood. That should stand out strongly enough.”
They camped where dusk found them, spreading their cloaks against a fallen log. Moira would not allow a fire, so their dinner consisted of some bits of jerked meat and a handful of leathery dried fruit. Normally Wiz didn’t eat red meat, but things were decidedly not normal and he gnawed gratefully on the pieces Moira placed in his hand.
As the twilight faded Moira took a stick and drew a design around them and their resting place.
“The circle will offer us some small protection,” she told him. “Do not leave it tonight for anything.”
“Not even for . . . ?”
“Not for anything,” she repeated firmly.
Without another word Moira rolled herself in her cloak and turned away from Wiz. He sat with his back to the log staring up at the unfamiliar stars.
“This is soooo weird,” Wiz said, more to himself than Moira.
“Sleeping outdoors is not what I am used to either,” she said.
“No, I mean this whole business. Dragons. The magic and all. It’s just not like anything I’m used to.”
Moira rolled over to face him. “You mean you really do not have magic where you come from?”
“The closest I ever came to magic was working with Unix wizards,” said Wiz.
“Eunuchs wizards? Did they do that to themselves to gain power?”
“Huh? No. Not Eunuchs, Unix. Spelled . . .” Wiz realized he couldn’t spell the word. He recognized the shapes of the letters, but they twisted and crawled in his mind and no meaning attached to them. When he tried to sound the word out only runes appeared in his head.
“Never mind, but it’s not that at all. It’s an operating system.”
“Operating system?” Moira said frowning.
“An operating system is a program which organizes the resources of a computer and virtualizes their interfaces,” Wiz quoted.