“No, it didn’t. Still, your Majesty, had we truly meant you ill, we might have killed you in your sleep, rather than just sending an unpleasant dream.”
“You might have tried,” Vond retorted.
Ithinia sighed. “Really, your Majesty – do you think you’re completely indestructible? We have undetectable poisons, we have subtle potions, we have a thousand ways to get at you. There are spells that are quite effective against warlocks. We turned Chairman Hanner’s uncle to stone, after all. If we had really wanted you dead, you would be.”
If Vond was shaken by this, he did not show it. “So you didn’t try to kill me – yet. Maybe you thought you could turn me into your puppet, instead, and now that that hasn’t worked, maybe you would try to kill me – except that now you don’t dare. You’ve seen where the overlord’s palace is, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” Ithinia admitted.
“Well, I’m the only thing holding it up there. I can hold it there forever – regardless of which source we use, we Calling-level warlocks don’t tire. But if I die, ten thousand tons of stone will fall out of the sky onto this house. I don’t even need to die, really – if you turn me into a frog, down it comes. If you do anything that breaks my concentration badly enough, it falls. The overlord and his family will die, your neighbors will die – you might not, since I’m sure you have a dozen protective spells on this place, but I think the damage would be extensive enough to deter you.”
“You’re going to keep it up there? Indefinitely?”
“Unless you can convince me I don’t need to, yes.”
“But the overlord! The city’s government!”
He smiled crookedly. “They will need to deal with a few inconveniences, won’t they?” The smile vanished. “If you think you can find some way around this, some way to make it so it won’t matter if I drop the palace, I suggest you reconsider, because I can pick up something much larger than the palace if I need to. I can lift the entire city, and leave it hanging over the Gulf of the East – or I can lift a piece of the Gulf and hang it over the city, ready to crash down and drown you all.”
“That won’t be necessary, your Majesty.”
“You’re acknowledging my authority, then? You’ll accept me as the ruler of Ethshar?”
That caught Ithinia off guard, as few things had over the past century or two. “I don’t…I’m not in a position to decide that.”
“Aren’t you?”
“I cannot speak for Lord Azrad, your Majesty.”
“I didn’t ask about Lord Azrad. I asked whether you acknowledged my authority.”
Irritated, Ithinia said, “I acknowledge that you are in a position to dictate terms to me, your Majesty. Isn’t that enough?”
Vond smiled unpleasantly. “Why, yes, I think it is.”
“Then what do you want of me?”
“I want your oath that you will make no further attempt to harm me, to deceive me, or to interfere with my actions.”
“I certainly won’t try to hurt you while you’re the only thing keeping the palace from crashing down!”
Vond laughed. “Of course not.”
“Do you seriously intend to hold it up there forever?”
“Oh, probably not. It would get tiresome. I’m sure I’ll want to take a nap now and then, and I don’t know whether I can keep it steady in my sleep. That’s why I want your oath. And before you start thinking about whether or not killing me in my sleep might be worth forswearing yourself, consider this – you don’t really know that I’m the only warlock left, do you? I have dozens of other Called warlocks at my house on High Street, and can you be sure I haven’t given any of them the ability to use the magic I do?”
Ithinia knew better than to say anything about that. She was fairly certain that Vond was not the sort who would be willing to share his power; he liked being the only one of his kind, she was sure. Saying that, though, was exactly the kind of thing that might prompt him to actually carry out the implied threat.
“If you’re thinking you can handle one or two, remember there might be dozens, and they wouldn’t all sleep at once. They would avenge me – not because they love me so much, but so no one would do the same to them. You’ll never catch all of us asleep.”
“I understand,” Ithinia said. She understood that Vond was bluffing – which meant he knew he was vulnerable. It was, she thought, a very good thing that warlockry was a purely physical magic, and that Vond could not hear her thoughts as a witch might. He could probably sense the signs that would mean an ordinary person was lying, but Ithinia was not an ordinary person; a few centuries of practice had given her the ability to lie so well that even witches could not always detect it.
“Then swear you won’t try to harm me or deceive me.”
Ithinia decided it was time to calm her foe. She put a hand on the hilt of her athame. “I swear by my life and my blade that I will not attempt to harm you, and that I will not again use magic to deceive you, nor advise others to do so.”
Vond glared at her for a moment, then nodded. “That will do. I’m tempted to demand that you swear loyalty to me, but I suppose that would conflict with some Guild oath you’ve taken.”
“Yes, it would,” Ithinia answered. It might even be true, she thought.
“Then I’ll do without it.” He turned to go. “You might want to warn the other magicians not to get in my way,” he called back over his shoulder.
“Your Majesty?” Ithinia said.
He paused. “What?”
“May I ask what your plans are? What is it you intend to do with your power?”
Vond seemed puzzled by the question. “Whatever I please,” he said.
“Yes, but what pleases you?”
Again, he seemed confused. “Good food. Beautiful women. Sunny days. A comfortable home. The same things that please anyone.”
“So you have no plans to usurp the overlord’s position?”
Vond waved a hand dismissively. “I can’t be bothered to run a government. I tried that in Semma – it’s tiresome. I will happily let others deal with the necessity of keeping order, so long as they do so in a way that pleases me and does not interfere with my own actions.”
“You have no schemes for expanding your existing empire to include Ethshar?”
He snorted. “Wizard, the entire World is already mine – it’s just that some people don’t realize it yet.” He turned again.
This time Ithinia let him go. She did not send Obdur to see him out; she did not want to risk Vond killing her servant simply because he was there.
She waited for the sound of the front door closing, but it didn’t come. After a moment she went to look, and found that Vond had left the door standing open, allowing the cold air of a winter’s night to pour in.
“Inconsiderate fool,” Ithinia muttered, as she shut the door. A moment later, though, she opened it again and stepped out.
The street was empty, but she heard voices. She looked around. Her gargoyles were fluttering clumsily about the neighbors’ rooftops, calling to one another, and she realized they were guiding people out through the courtyards and alleys between Lower and High Street, out from under the hovering palace. She could hear human voices in the distance, as well, shouting instructions.
And the air above the houses was full of flying carpets, and those newfangled flying carriages that had come into fashion a few years ago, and levitating wizards, fetching people and papers down from the palace. Clearly, several people had not waited for her to take the lead in dealing with the situation.
That was good. It was a relief to see people showing some initiative – but at the same time, she fervently hoped they were being careful about it. Vond could be irrationally touchy; he might take almost anything as a personal affront.
She had sworn not to harm him, so she would not, but she certainly wasn’t going to stop anyone else from harming him. She wondered whether the Cult of Demerchan had decided yet whether they would kill him.