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Her picture was everywhere, and it was certain that if anyone saw her she
would be instantly identified.
Finally, word came in a letter mailed from the capital to Cloise at the farm.
It was a handwritten message with no identifying marks.
Dear Concerned Mothers:
Please rest assured that your daughter, Spirit, is safe, warm, dry, and
well-fed. She is unchanged, and has not been violated or even marked. To
discuss her and our future business, please come to the point at the Anchor
apron marked on the enclosed map tonight one hour after dark. Do not enter
Flux, but remain on the wall, if you like. There will be no tricks on my part,
no attempt at harming you in any way. I wish sometime in the future to see
just how good the saintly Sister Kasdi really is in Flux, but that must be for
a later time. As a result, I will take no
action against her in Anchor, but she must see me from Anchor only. Tell the
other wizards they are to remain at least one kilometer away in Flux from this
spot. If they do not, Spirit will suffer for it and it will be on their heads.
Until tonight, then, I remain,
Very sincerely yours,
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Coydt van Haaz
There would be no tricks. Kasdi insisted that she alone go to meet him,
although there would be a squad of cops with automatic weapons posted just in
case Coydt was pulling a fast one. Mervyn and two lesser but still potent
wizards would cover in Flux from the required distance, ready to move if need
be.
It was a warm night, but the old rock wall was cold and damp against her bare
feet.
Nonetheless, she waited there, watching darkness come and the troops covering
her lighting the torches not only on the wall but in the apron ground as well.
The hour passed with agonizing slowness, but, right on schedule, someone
shouted, and all eyes turned to the Flux, at this point less than twenty
meters away.
Coydt was not only punctual; he certainly knew how to put on a show. At the
appointed time the whole huge area of Flux seemed to glow, and then pulsate,
and it was as if luminescent winds blew in all directions within the energy
field. The winds then coalesced into a face an enormous face, possibly a
kilometer high, filling their field of vision. The voice, although loud, was
certainly as much Coydt's as the now very familiar face.
"Glad to see you're on time," the wizard greeted her. "We can have our little
chat at this point, and you needn't shout. I can hear you if you just use a
normal tone of voice."
"Where is my daughter?" she demanded.
"Safe. I'm sure that everybody's got my profile by now, so you should know
that I always keep my word and never lie without profit. It is rather odd, but
the masses never grasp it, so that I must emphasize that point, since if
someone above the law does not keep his word and play fair, he'll never get
what he wants. I keep my bargains for that reason always.''
"What is it that you want?"
"I have your daughter. You have four Hellgates. I need access to them from the
temples."
"You know I can't do that even if I wanted to, they wouldn't permit it."
"A straight swap, then. You for her?"
"More tempting to me, personally. I, too, would like to try you one-on-one,
Coydt. But it would be only a brief respite for my daughter, whom I could not
protect, and I could not bind the Nine to any bargain made. You know that."
I
The huge image of Coydt sighed. "Well, then, what are we to do? It seems I
have a commodity with no major market value. You cannot, or will not, pay the
price."
"Just let her go. I'll arrange to meet and settle our disputes."
"A wonderful idea, and part of my original hopes for this, but no longer
possible," he responded. "I'm afraid we've discovered that your daughter has a
Soul Rider. Neutralizing the
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Soul Rider has thus become an overriding preoccupation."
The news was a shock, but also something of a relief. Spirit must have gotten
the Soul Rider from her, somehow. The creatures' natures were totally unknown,
but they certainly protected their hosts and were on the right side in a
fight. She should know. Coydt, in fact, had a series of dilemmas.
"Then you can't transform her and let her wander, because the Soul Rider would
eventually make it right," she noted. "You can't try a really major spell on
her, because it can probably un-
ravel it. And you can't kill her, because then you wouldn't know where that
Soul Rider was, except that it was after you."
"We've learned a lot since Haldayne's attempt on you. Very well there is no
offer you wish to make for her release?"
"The best I could do would be to drop all charges against you should she be
returned unharmed.
And agree to meet you at some point."
"Oh, we will meet, I promise you that. I'm looking forward to it. But not now.
Very well. Here is how we will resolve this. You can't find the others who
helped me pull the job, but everybody is being bottled up. I want everyone who
wishes to leave Anchor Logh within the next full day to be allowed to do so
without harm or prejudice. The borders will be open again, and everything will
be back to normal. In exchange for this, if Spirit agrees, I will return her
to Anchor Logh within three days. She may have some spells, but they will not
harm her or anyone else. And, after all, you're a great wizard yourself. You
can take care of those. Agreed?"
She frowned. "Agreed."
"Until we meet again, then," he responded, and the huge face shrank more and
more until it was merely a point in the void and then was gone.
She shook her head in wonder and suspicion. There was more to this than what
he'd said, that was for sure. Why go through all this trouble and all that
risk only to settle for the getaway of some of the more minor perpetrators?
The place was called a Pocket. In many ways it resembled a Fluxland, in that
it was a very sub-
stantial and substantial-looking reality designed, built, and maintained by
the mind of a wizard. It differed only in size. While a Fluxland could be
larger than an Anchor, a Pocket was generally small enough that one could see
the Void all around from its center.
This one had a lot of trees, a stream running through it near the house, a
bright whitish-gray sky, and, in the middle, on a small knoll, a rather
standard-looking six-room, two-story house. It was not terribly well hidden
from those who could discover it, but no strings that any but Coydt could see
led to or from it, and it was well away from any stringer routes, although
less than a day's ride from Anchor Logh. It seemed to stand out, but in the
context of World it was smaller than the smallest needle in the largest
haystack.
She had not been imprisoned here, and had full run of the place except for
Coydt's own two-
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room complex in back of the first floor and just off the small kitchen. She
had her own room, had access to a very modern shower and toilet, and except
for the fact that she still had only the clothes she'd had on when kidnapped,
she was quite comfortable. She had not only not been mistreated or molested;
she was almost completely ignored.
Now, though, Coydt, who'd been away for a while, had returned and a knock on
her door by
Yorek summoned her. "The boss wants to see you," he said simply, and that was
enough.
He sat in a comfortable, padded desk chair, rocking slightly and smoking a
cigar. He looked over a bunch of figures on a piece of paper one last time as
she entered and took a seat on a small couch two meters from him. For a moment
he did not acknowledge her, but then he looked up, dismissed Yorek, sighed,
and turned to her, putting the paper down.
"It's time for us to bargain," he said simply.
She was startled. "Bargain? What do I have to bargain with?" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]