“Oh,” said Regin. He turned to where King Luther was trudging grimly in the rear. “And you, Your Majesty? You know this wizard, too?”
“We use him for hangings and heads on spikes occasionally,” King Luther said. “But I hire him most often for the feast when the damn Pilgrims have gone. He has performing animals. Pigs mostly.”
“Pigs?” said Regin.
“Yes, pigs,” said King Luther. “They fly.”
“Oh,” Regin said again. As he said it, they arrived back on the flagstone in the council room again. Regin’s teeth chattered; Barnabas was shivering; Umru was juddering all over. Querida was unaffected. So was King Luther, whose northern kingdom was never warm.
“What is the matter?” Umru cried out. People turned from reading the heaps of letters on the table to stare at him. He held his hands out piteously. “Look. Blue!”
“Oh. Um,” said Barnabas. “It’s young Blade’s fault, I’m afraid. Boys of that age never know their own strength. I’ll do what I can, but it may take an hour or so.”
TWO
DERKHOLM WAS IN AN UPROAR. Blade’s sister Shona was by the stables, saddling two of the horses so that Derk could take her to Bardic College as soon as he got home from the Oracle, when Elda came galloping up with her wings spread, rowing herself along for extra speed, screaming that Derk was going to be Dark Lord. Elda was squawking with excitement, according to Don, who had been galloping after Elda to try to calm things down, and Shona either did not understand her or did not believe her straightaway. When she did, Shona instantly unsaddled the horses and turned them back into the paddock.
According to Don, Shona then struck a fine pose (it was something Shona had been doing ever since she was enrolled as a trainee bard, and it annoyed Don particularly and Kit almost as much) and declared, “I’ll put off going to college for as long as Dad needs me. We have to show family solidarity over this.”
Shona, despite the pose, was highly excited by the news. As she raced back to the house carrying her saddlebags and violin case, with Don and Elda bounding ahead, all the animals caught it, even the Friendly Cows, and the rest of the day was loud with honks, squawks, moos, and the galloping of variously shaped feet.
Otherwise, Blade thought sourly, there was not much family solidarity around. When Shona burst in, flushed and looking violently pretty, their parents were having a row. Derk was roaring, “There must be a way to get out of it! I refuse to touch Chesney’s money!” Though he was not much given to wizardly displays, Derk was feeling so strongly that he was venting magefire in all directions. One of the hall carpets was in flames.
“Dad!” Shona cried out. “You’ll set the house on fire!”
Neither of their parents attended, though Mara shot Shona an angry look. Mara was enclosed in the steel blue light of a wizard’s shields, and she seemed quite as excited as Shona. “Stop being a fool, Derk!” she was shouting. “If the Oracle says you’re to be Dark Lord, then there’s nothing you can do!”
Magefire fizzed on Mara’s shields as Derk howled back, “Sod the Oracle! I’m not going to stand for it! And you should be helping me find a way out of it, not standing there backing the whole rotten system up!”
“I’m doing no such thing!” Mara screamed. “I’m merely trying to tell you it’s inevitable. You’d know that, too, if you weren’t in such a tantrum!”
Blade was trying to stamp the flames out of the rugs when big griffin Callette lumbered calmly through the front door carrying the rainwater butt, and upended it over the carpet. The hall hissed and steamed and smelled horrible.
Shona hastily snatched her luggage out of the water. “Dad,” she said, “be reasonable. We’ll all help you. We’ll get you through it somehow. Think of it. You’ve got five griffins, two wizards, and a bard, who are all going to look after you while y
ou do it. I bet none of the other Dark Lords has ever had help like you’ve got.”
You had to hand it to Shona, Blade thought. She was far better at getting on with Dad than he was. Within minutes Derk was calm enough simply to go striding about the house with his face all puzzled and drooping, saying over and over, “There has to be a way out of it!” while Shona followed him, coaxing. Elda did her bit by following Derk, too, looking sweet and golden and cuddly.
Blade managed to talk to his mother at last.
He found her sitting at the kitchen table, pale but relieved-seeming, while Lydda made supper. Lydda was the only one of the griffins who really liked cooked food. And she not only liked it, she was passionate about it. She was always inventing new dishes. Blade found it very hard to understand. In Lydda’s place, he would have felt like Cinderella, but it was clear Lydda felt nothing of the kind. She said, turning her yellow beak and one large bright eye toward Blade, “Do you have to come and get under my feet in here?”
Mara looked up at Blade’s face. “Yes,” she said. “He does.”
Lydda’s tail lashed, but she said nothing. The golden feathers of her wings and crest were loud with No comment.
“What did the Oracle say?” Mara asked Blade.
“Your teacher will be Deucalion,” Blade quoted glumly. He saw his mother’s fine, fair eyebrows draw together. “Don’t tell me. You haven’t heard of him either.”
“No-o,” Mara said. “The name rings a bell somewhere, but I certainly don’t remember any wizard of that name. It must be some other magic user. Be patient. He—or she—will turn up, Blade. The White Oracle is always right.”
Blade sighed.
“And what else?” asked his mother.
“Why doesn’t Dad understand?” Blade burst out. “He let Shona go to Bardic College. Why is he so set against me going to the University? I’ve told him and told him that I need to get there and get some training now in the junior section if I’m going to be properly grounded, and all he says is that he’ll teach me himself. And he can’t, Mum! You can’t. The things I can do are all quite different from yours or Dad’s. So why?”