Copyright ® 1989 by Tanya Huff.
All Rights Reserved.
Cover art by Dennis Nolan.
DAW Book Collectors No. 775.

For Fe, who freed the emotions and
refuses to let me lock them away again.

First Printing, March 1989
1 23456789
Printed in the U.S.A.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS:

I'd like to take this opportunity to thank Doris Bercarich
for technical assistance above and beyond the call of
friendship. / wouldn't have lent me a disk drive.

Progenitor

Seven were the goddesses remaining when the gods
were destroyed. Seven they were and these were their
degrees:

Nashawryn was the eldest; ebony haired and sil-
ver eyed, ruler of night and darkness, conceal-
ment and safety held in one cupped hand, a
dagger of fear clenched tight in the other fist.

Zarsheiy, who closely followed night in age,
ruled fire, and, claimed her dark sister, was ruled
by it. Flame her hair and flame her eyes and
flame, they said, her heart. Passionate and un-
predictable, one moment giving, the next de-
stroying, Zarsheiy's temper was legend amongst
both Mortals and the deities they had created.

Most loved of all the seven was Geta, Freedom,
who watched her twin brother Getan, god of
Justice, destroyed by his Wizard son and so hid
her grieving face from Mortals all the long years
the Wizards ruled.

Gentle Sholah held hearth and harvest in the bowl
of her two hands. Her dance turned the seasons,
and she was the first who dared deny Nashawryn
and have Zarsheiy heed her call.

Tayja was Sholah*s daughter, carved for her of
mahogany from the heart of a single tree by
9

10 Tanya Huff

Pejore, the god of art. It was Tayja who dared go
into Chaos and bring out the skill to harness Zar~
sheiy and she who fought always to strike the
dagger from Nashawryn's hand. Craft and learn-
ing were her dominion and although she de-
manded much of those who worshiped her, of all
the goddesses, save perhaps Geta, she gave the
most in return.

Youngest of the seven was Eegri, and on her
realm of chance even Tayja's reason blunted. She
went where she would; into night; into flame;

now revering freedom, now denying it; tripping
through field and forge with equal abandon. She
had no temples and no priesthood, but her sym-
bol was etched over every door and among Mor-
talkind there were many who lived by her favor.

The last of the seven claimed to have been pres-
ent when the Mother-creator lay with Chaos and
bore him Lord Death, her one true son. She
claimed to be more passionate than fire, to be
more necessary than freedom, to be the moving
force of hearth and harvest, to be more a fickle
power than even chance herself. Of craft and
learning she claimed to be the strength, lending
to poor Mortals the incentive to succeed. Her
name was Avreen, and she wore both the face of
love and of her darker aspect, lust.

As the dark age of Wizards ended, these seven were
all of the pantheon that survived; no longer worshiped,
seldom remembered. But a goddess once created does
not disappear merely because her creator has moved
beyond and closer to the truth. As they watched the
Wizards rule, so they watched the Wizards die. And
they saw that one did not. The most powerful of the
Wizards, his father the most powerful of the gods long
destroyed, still lived. Throughout the many thousand

THE LAST WIZARD 11

years during which he hid, the seven watched. When
he emerged to rule the earth again, they were ready.

The gods had stood alone, each against his child;

and lost. They would stand together.

The Mother-creator's eldest child, immortal first
created, died for love of a mortal man. The seven used
that love—for was not Love one of them—and formed
a vessel into which they poured all that they were.
They caused that vessel to present their essence back
to the Mother's youngest, to a mortal woman, to the
only aspect of all the Mother's creation that was in turn
able to create, and she formed that essence into a child.

And the child, unique in creation, won where the
gods had failed.

One

"You waitin' for someone?"

"No."

"Mind if I set?"

"Yes."

The beefy faced man opened and closed his mouth
a few times and a wave of red washed out the freckles
sprinkled liberally across his nose and cheeks. "Think
you're too good ta set with me?" His hard miner's
hands clenched the edge of the small table-

"No." But the tone said yes.

It said other things as well, spoke a coldness that
caused the miner's balls to draw up, even under his
thick sheepskin trousers.

She lifted her head just a little and let a ray of lan-
tern light fall within the confines of her hood.

The man's eyes widened. For a moment his jaw went
slack, and then his sandy brows drew down in a puz-
zled frown. He knew something was happening; he
didn't know what. An instant later, he lost even that
and turned away, knowing only that his advances had
been rejected.

She lowered her head and her face was once again
masked by darkness.

"Not very polite," said her companion as the miner
returned to his own table amidst the jeers and catcalls
of his friends. "I never thought to see you use your
power on such a trivial thing."

Crystal shrugged but kept her voice low as she an-
swered. Although she had no objection to being
thought overly proud or even peculiar, it wouldn't do
12

THE LAST WIZARD 13

to have the whole tavern think her insane; sitting and
talking to a companion only she could see. She said
as much to Lord Death, adding: "I wish to be left
alone. That is not, to my mind, a trivial thing."

Lord Death drew his finger through a puddle of
spilled ale, making no mark. "And your wish is to be
that poor mortal's command?" His hair flickered to a
bright red-gold, and for a heartbeat his eyes glowed a
brilliant sapphire blue.

The hiss of breath through Crystal's teeth caused
several patrons to turn and peer toward the dim comer.
She quickly dropped her gaze to her mug of ale until.
curiosity unsatisfied, they returned to their own con-
cerns.

"You dare?" she growled when the attention had
shifted away. "You dare show that face to me? To crit-
icize my actions with it? To dare suggest I walk his
road? Kraydak's road?" Kraydak of the red-gold hair
and sapphire eyes and silken voice and blood-red
hands. Kraydak, the most powerful of the ancient wiz-
ards, dead now these dozen years- Her hand had set
his death in motion, but his arrogance had killed him
in the end. His arrogance. His concern had been solely
for himself, all others existing only to serve.

Lord Death sat quietly, chin on hands, watching the
last of the wizards work her way through his accusa-
tion to the truth. In spite of a parentage that tied
together all the threads of the Mother's creation, and
more power than had ever been contained in a mortal
shell, she was as capable of lying to herself as any
other. But she seldom did and he doubted she would
now. He'd spent a lot of time with her over the last
few years, drawn by something he was not yet willing
to name, and he'd come to respect her ability to see
things as they were, not as she wanted them to be.

"Fin sorry." The whisper from the depths of the
hood was truly contrite and both slender hands tight-
ened about her mug. The pewter began to bend and
she hurriedly stroked it straight. Forgetting how it must
appear to anyone watching—and there had been in-

14 TanyaHuff

quisitive eyes on her since she entered the inn—she
turned to face Lord Death. The shadows of the hood
could not hide the brimming tears from one who
walked in shadow. "I. . .1 seem to be losing control
of things lately.*'

The one true son of the Mother reached out to brush
a tear away, but the drop of water slid through his
finger and spun down to the scarred tabletop. He
sighed and his mouth twisted as he withdrew his hand.
"May I give you some advice?" he asked as they both
stared down at the fallen tear.

She sniffed and managed a smile. "I don't guaran-
tee I'U take it."

He smiled back but kept his voice carefully neutral,
not letting the worry show. "Find something to do.
Kraydak committed his worst excesses because he was
bored." He waved his hand. "Go back to the Empire,
there's enough to fix there to keep any number of wiz-
ards busy."

Crystal shook her head and pushed a spill of silver
hair back beneath her hood. "I can't. The people of
the Empire are too aware of the evil a wizard can do
and I am too obviously—" she sighed, "—too obvi-
ously what I am. When they see me, they see Kray-
dak."

"You destroyed him. They'll come to see you in
time."

"If you expect one act of good to wipe out ten cen-
turies of evil, you expect too much of your people,
milord. Even if I tried to make amends for every hor-
ror he ever committed—and I did try, in the begin-
ning—they would still see only that I was a wizard,
like him."

"Not like him," Lord Death reminded her.

"No," she agreed. "But in his Empire, wizard
means terror and they see me as potential threat not
savior.'* Her voice trailed off as she remembered how
her help had been received; how she'd come to use her
powers in secret if at all, hiding who and what she
was rather than trying to fight the inheritance of fear

THE LAST WIZARD 15

Kraydak had left her, afraid herself that she would one
day lash back and so become what they accused her

of being.

Even here in Halda, even though King Jeffrey was a
cousin of sorts, she kept her identity hidden. Kray-
dak's legions had cut through the valley country and a
wizard would not be looked on kindly. Amid the small
crowd of men and women who'd braved the weather
for companionship's sake, she could see a hook where
a hand should be, a patch covering an empty socket-
Ac eye seared out by fire if the puckered ridges sur-
rounding it were any sign—and scars beyond counting.
High in the northern mountains, this mining village
had been hit less hard than others she'd seen, but once
having felt a wizard's power they would not likely wel-
come it again. Fortunately, the bitter cold—noticeable
in the tavern even though fires roared at both ends of
the long room—wrapped everyone in the anonymity of
heavy clothing and she was not the only one huddled
deep within a hood.

A problem to involve her mind and her power would
go a long way toward settling the turmoil she*d lived
m lately; thoughts and feelings boiling beneath the
surface, occasionally bubbling up as they had with that
poor miner. It seemed, sometimes, as if each individ-
ual facet of her personality fought for a life of its own,
only rarely coming together to work as one harmoni-
ous whole. There were days when she dreaded opening
her mouth for fear of what would come out.

"Perhaps," Lord Death broke into her thoughts,
"you should go home."

She briefly considered it. Her twelve-year-old
brother and the seven-year-old twins were enough to
keep an army of wizards busy. "No," she said aloud,
"it's too soon. Mother would be sure something was
wrong and she'd fuss."

"Maybe she could help."

"Help with what? There's nothing wrong." Crystal
wondered if he could see the heat rising in her cheeks.
He sat silently, smiling slightly. He knows me too well,

16 TanyaHuff

she thought, but for some strange reason that pleased
her. "There's nothing wrong my mother can help
with," she amended and was rewarded by a fuller
smile. "And besides, the adulation of the Ardhan peo-
ple is as hard to take in its own way as fear and sus-
picion."

Fear and suspicion.

Which brought it full circle back to the Empire.
Without her help, it would be many, many years before
the effects of Kraydak's tyranny were erased from the
land and the people—but she suspected that this slow
healing was for the best. Only time would convince
those who'd survived the crushing weight of Kraydak's
yoke that they were their own masters again.

"The trouble is," she said at last, "no one needs
me."

Lord Death had no response to that so he merely sat
and watched the last of the wizards drink her ale. He
enjoyed watching her, not only because she was stun-
ningly beautiful and inhumanly graceful, not only be-
cause she was intelligent, witty, and powerful, but
because ... He broke off the thought, as he always
did at that point, and glanced around the room. An
ancient man, sitting as close to the fire as he could
without igniting his old bones, lifting his mug in sa-
lute. Lord Death smiled and returned the salutation.
He appreciated a graceful exit. A number of the relic's
friends peered about, wondering whom he greeted. By
the coarse jokes and ribald poking at the old man's
supposed gallantry, it was obvious they saw only Crys-
tal. After living their lives in a land where winters
were often eight months long, they were well practiced
at Judging a person's gender despite the heavy cloth-
ing.

If Crystal noticed any of this, she chose to ignore it
as she ignored the other noises of the crowd, letting
sounds wash over her in an undifferentiated rumble.
Her table, back in a corner and away from the fires,
was isolated, cold, and a little dark. Save for the one
miner who'd approached at the drunken urging of his

THE LAST WIZARD 17

friends, she'd been left alone from the moment she'd
slipped quietly back there and sat down. Even the
young man who served her ale came back as seldom
as he thought he could and shivered the entire time he
was forced to linger so far from the fires. He'd asked
her once if she wouldn't like to move closer, more for
his sake, she suspected, than hers. She'd told him no,
and he hadn't brought it up again. If she thought about
the cold at all, she welcomed the drafts that skirted
her ankles and tugged at the edges of her cloak; they
kept the odors of humanity, steaming woolens, and
stale beer down to a bearable level. An enhanced sense
of smell, part of her heritage from the Mother's Eldest,
could be a distinct disadvantage at times.

She wasn't sure why she'd even entered the inn. She
had no need of food or warmth; she had no wish for
companionship; but when the last light from the set-
ting sun had picked out the gilding on the tavern's
hanging sign and it had flared like a beacon in the fog
she'd taken it as an omen.

What kind of omen an inn called The Wrong Nugget
would be. Crystal had no idea.

She sighed and let her gaze drift over to the stairs
mat led to the second floor. Each step dipped from the
wearing of countless footsteps and the wood was pol-
ished almost white. Any place that kept the stairs so
clean, she decided, could be trusted to keep the bugs
in the beds to a minimum. Perhaps she would stay the
night.

But tomorrow?

Maybe she could return to the centaurs. It had been
seven years since they'd taught her the delicate manip-
ulations of the dreamworld. Perhaps enough time had
passed that she could handle their pompous and pe-
dantic utterances again. She thought of C'Tal. "Are
you entirely certain that your spiritual growth has pro-
ceeded sufficiently for you to be instructed in /. ."
No, seven years wasn't long enough. There had to be
something else.

She sighed.

18 TanyaHvff

"No one needs me," she said again, and finished
her ale.

"Self-pity makes me sick!" The voice blazed be-
tween her ears, disgust and anger about equally mixed.

Crystal flicked a glance behind her. Only her shadow
grayed the rough log wall. Only Lord Death was close
enough to have made the remark.

"I beg your pardon?"

Lord Death looked startled at the frosty tone. "I
didn't say anything," he protested.

"You didn't?"

"No."

She had to believe him. He had never, to her knowl-
edge, lied. She wasn't sure he could. "Then who . . ."
She rubbed her forehead with a pale hand. Wonderful,
now she was hearing things. Just what the worid
needed: a useless, crazy wizard.

With a scream of frozen hinges and a roar of winter
wind, the outer door burst open and slammed back
against the wall. After an instant of stunned silence,
the sudden blast of freezing air brought a number of
the patrons to their feet and a bellow of: "Close the
Chaos damned door!" ripped out of a dozen throats.

The man who staggered into the light wore furs so
rimed with ice it was only common sense that said he
wore furs at all. He half dragged, half carried a man-
sized bundle, equally white. Just over the threshold,
he stopped and swayed and stared, eddies of snow
swirling about his feet through the open door-

The men and women in the tavern stared back,
caught by his desperation but not knowing how to re-
spond, as the room grew colder and the lamps gut-
tered. Finally, the young server pushed through the
crowd and wrestled shut the door, alternately kicking
and cursing at the lumps of ice that had followed the
stranger inside. When warmth no longer leeched out
of the tavern, he placed a tentative hand on the stran-
ger's arm. The man didn't appear to notice. Even
blurred by layers of clothing, every line of his body
screamed exhaustion. His sway grew more pro-

THE LAST WIZARD 19

nounced and he toppled to the floor, curied protec-
tively around his burden.

"Get the poor bugger a brandy," someone sug-
gested, breaking the silence.

"If yer buyin', I could use one meself."

"Brandy'll kill'im. Have Inga here give'im a kiss."

"That'll kill'imfer sure."

Amid appreciative laughter at this string of wit, the
server knelt down beside the body, advice and drunken
speculation continuing until one voice above the bab-
ble, sharp and clear:

"What is going on out here?"

The tavern fell as close to silent as taverns ever fall,
and every head still capable of the motion turned to
the Idtchen door. Physically, the woman who waited
there for an answer was not the type to inspire such
quiet. She was short, thin, with close cropped red
curls, and a wide mouth— currently pressed into a dis-
approving line. The apron she wore over winter wool-
ens was stained, for, proprietor or not, she did much
of the cooking herself. A smudge of ash marked her
nose. "Who," she demanded, dusting flour off her
hands, "left the damned door open? We can feel the
cold all the way into the kitchen. I've told you lot
before that I've no intention of heating all of Halda."

"It*s a stranger. Dorses," the barman called out and
the rest of the explanation was lost as everyone tried
to shout out their version of events.

She sighed, signaled the barman to stay put—his
skill with beer or brandy was undeniable, but the man
was useless in an emergency—and made her way
across to the door. Experience told her it would be
fester to see for herself than to try and sort out over
twenty voices. When she reached the stranger, she
touched his shoulder with the toe of her shoe.

"Is he dead, Ivan?" she asked the server.

"No." Pale brows drew down toward a snub nose.
"But he's not good."

Dorses shook her head and turned a withering gaze
on her clientele. "And I suppose it occurred to none

20 TanyaHuff

of you to get him over by the fire and out of those wet
furs?"

As several of the more sober blushed and muttered
excuses, she looked back to her server. "What are you
trying to do?" she demanded as Ivan continued to tug
on the stranger's arms.

**I can't get him to let go of his bundle," he grunted,
lower lip caught up between his teeth.

"Then let him be." She scanned the faces present.
"Nad?"

"He's in the pot."

"Nay, I'm back."

The man who pushed his way forward was of aver-
age height and anything but average width. His shoul-
ders were so broad he seemed a foot or so shorter than
he actually stood. Pleasant features were arranged
about a mashed caricature of a nose in an expression
of eager curiosity.

Dorses twitched Ivan out of Nad's way and said:

"See what you can do."

Nad flexed his massive shoulders, bent over the
stranger, and taking each fur covered arm in a callused
hand, lifted. A foot, then two* the stranger rose and
although he maintained his grip the bundle's own
weight pulled it free. Nad grunted in satisfaction,
moved a bit to the left, and gently lowered the man
back to the floor.

"Chaos," breathed Ivan, his eyes widening. "That's
a brindle pelt he was carryin'. Looks fresh killed,
too."

The stranger lay forgotten in a puddle of melting
snow while they all examined what he'd been clutching
so tightly. Dorses bent and stroked the long, brown
and black fur.

"It's brindle all right," she said. lifting a corner and
looking beneath. Her tone remained unchanged as she
added, ' 'It*s also a body.'' After eight years of running
this tavern, she'd pretty much lost her ability to be
surprised by anything.

"My brother," the stranger's voice was a reedy gasp.

THE LAST WIZARD 21

He rose shakily to one elbow and removed the half-frozen
wool scarf from in front of his mouth. "Wounded in the
mountains." Beneath a drooping mustache his lips were
pinched and white. "Needs, . ."Then he collapsed back
to the floor.

"Help," Dorses finished, her hand slipping beneath
the fur and resting on the throat of the wounded man.
His pulse barely shivered against her fingers- "Ivan,
take care of . . ." Without a name, she waved a hand
in the general direction of the stranger. "I want his
brother here up on that table. Don't unwrap him,
Nad!" she snapped as huge hands reached down and
started to roll the brindle free. "Lift him as he is."

"But Dorses'" Nad protested, scarred fingers sink-
ing into the plush fur. "Just think on it! A week at my
forge wouldn't bring in what this pelt will. You don't
use brindle as a stretcher! You can't!" His tone was
horrified.

"Why not? It's almost a shroud. Now move!"

With a miner on each side of the torso and another
lifting the legs, the body and the pelt were hoisted
onto a hastily cleared table. Nad bit back a cry as the
preferred fur of kings settled gently on top of biscuit
crumbs and spilled beer. At a curt nod from Dorses,
he almost reverently folded back the outer edge, and
then the inner, pulling slowly but steadily for the pelt
was frozen stiff and stuck to something beneath.

"Mother who made us all," he breathed, and his
hands dropped to his sides.

Even Dorses paled.

The stranger's brother looked about thirty and was
a slightly built man, thin but muscular. A week's beard
glinted gold in the lamplight, some shades darker than
the wire-bound braids. His skin was pale and he had
a delicate beauty seldom achieved by men; just barely
saved from being effeminate by the stern line of his
mouth, uncompromising even so close to death. Above
the waist, his clothes bore russet brown stains. Below,
they were shredded and the fiesh beneath was no bet-
ter. Not even the stiff and reddened strips of hide that

22 TanyaHuff

bound them could disguise the extent of the injuries.
Only by courtesy could these hunks of meat still be
called legs.

The tavern fell silent. One of the men, up on a
neighboring table for a better view, scrambled down
off his perch and vomited into a bucket. Everyone ig-
nored him, their eyes on the dead man. Oh, he still
clung to life, although the Mother only knew how, but
there wasn't a person watching who would grant him
a place amongst the living-

"Jago?" Pulling free of Ivan's help and leaving the
young man holding his sodden furs, the stranger fell
onto the bench by the table and took his brother's face
in cracked and bleeding hands. His hair was nearer
brown than blond and pulled back into a greasy tail.
Although pain and exhaustion made it difficult to tell
for certain, he appeared five to seven years older than
the wounded man. "Jago?"

"Give me your knife," Dorses said quietly to Nad.
"Those bindings have to come off."

"Those bindin's are all that's holdin' the flesh on
his bones," observed a woman in the crowd.

"Aye," Nad agreed from his vantage point. "You'll
have a right mess if you cut him free. And the whole
lot's froze so you'll have ta pry the bindings up and
likely take a bit of leg with it. Would't be surprised if
what's left is frostbit too." He handed Dorses his knife
and added, " 'Course, far as he's concerned it won't
make much difference either way."

"While he lives, we do what we can." And her tone
left no room for argument.

The knife was sharp but the bindings were tight,
wet, and becoming slimy as they thawed. Only the
shallow and infrequent rise and fall of his chest said
Jago still breathed. Although her eyes never left the
delicate maneuvering of the blade. Dorses checked be-
tween each repositioning of the point; just in case.
She'd fight to save the living, but she'd not waste her
time on one already gone to Lord Death.

"Are you a healer?" The stranger looked up from

THE LAST WIZARD 23

Iris brother's face, his eyes and the circles beneath them
nearly the same shade of purplish gray. His accent
gave the words an almost musical inflection but did
nothing to hide the desperation.

"No." Dorses' mouth pressed into a thin white'line
and the tendons of her neck bulged as she forced the
knife through the hide.

"We've no healer here," Nad explained, putting one
foot up on the bench and leaning a forearm on his
thigh. "And few anywhere in Halda. When the Wiz-
ard's Horde went through twelve year ago, they were
all killed, from apprentice ta master. When the wizard
fell, and the horde with him, there was no one left ta
teach the youngsters until Ardhan sent aid. E'en then
there was so much healin* needed doin' they'd no time
ta teach at first. Dorses was joined ta a healer though
and he . . ."

"He couldn't have done anything here." As the flesh
beneath the bindings began to warm, her nose told her
what she'd find. She had hoped it was the untanned
brindle hide she smelled, and in part it was, but with
even a small fraction of leg exposed the putrid stench
rising from the black bits of flesh could only mean
gangrene. The one question remaining was how the
man still lived with legs clawed to shreds and rotting
off his body.

"Have you a name?" She asked the stranger.

The stranger nodded. "Raulin. This," he added,
"is my brother Jago. We were traveling north across
me mountains when we were attacked by the brindle.
Jago screamed and screamed, but I got my dagger in
its eye ..."

"In its eye?" More than one eye in the tavern mea-
sured the length of the pelt. A full grown brindle stood
more than seven feet high at the shoulder and its eyes
were two feet higher than that. Of course, if it was
feeding ...

"I climbed on its back," Raulin continued, as jaws
dropped throughout his audience, "and put my dagger
into its eye. It's a long dagger. It died. Jago stopped

24 TanyaHuff

screaming." Tears dripped from his face onto his
brother's. "Five days ago. Maybe four. He hasn't
screamed since. I did what I could. I promised to get
him to a healer." He began to struggle to his feet.
"You said no healers- We have to go on."

Dorses' hand on his shoulder pushed him back down
and a steady pressure kept him there. She was stronger
than she looked.

"You're in no condition to go anywhere," she said,
her voice as gentle as anyone had ever heard it. "And
your brother is well on his way to Lord Death."

In the quiet corner, as far removed from the drama
near the door as was possible while still remaining in
the room. Crystal raised her head and met Lord
Death's eyes. He nodded.

"He's mine, or yours," he said.

She peered through the nearly solid wall of wool and
leather covered backs and then at the Mother's one
true son. Already his hair was beginning to lighten and
a faint line of beard coarsened his jaw as the features
of the young man on the table moved onto Death. She
couldn't save every handsome young man destined to
die. But she could save this one.

She made up her mind.

"He's mine."

The scrape of her chair, moving away from the table
as she stood, sounded unnaturally loud- A miner
turned, nudged his neighbor, and in seconds the crowd
had spun on its collective heel to look at Crystal.

There was no longer any point in avoiding attention.

She threw back her hood and let the cloak slip from
her shoulders. Hair, the silver-white of moonlight,
flowed almost to her waist and danced languidly about
in the still air as though glad to be free. She stood
taller than the tallest man in the room. As she stepped
forward, her eyes began to glow; green as strong
summer sunlight through leaves. There could be no
mistaking who she was.

The ancient wizards had been bred of gods and
mortal women and they'd ruled the earth for millennia

THE LAST WIZARD 25

until their arrogance destroyed them. All but one. All
but Kraydak. And in less than a thousand years on his
own, Kraydak had engendered as much carnage as all
of the others had accomplished together over five times
as long.

But from Ardhan came a prophecy, that from Ard-
han would come Kraydak's doom.

Crystal. A weapon forged by the goddesses in a
mortal womb, shaped by the strength of the Eldest.

Crystal. The last wizard. Only seventeen when she'd
faced Kraydak and defeated him. Only seventeen when
she'd saved the world. Twelve years later, she looked
barely older.

The crowd parted, moved by surprise and other
emotions, less well defined, with a guttural, multi-
fioned murmur. Her gaze shifting neither left nor
fight—the tavern might have been empty from the way
she moved—she approached the table, a song of power
building in the back of her throat. It wasn't a sound
yet. but the hair on every neck in the room stood up.
She looked down at the wounded man and then at his
brother.

For the first time in five days, Raulin's eyes held
hope.

"Save him," he said.

She nodded, laid long pale fingers on the torn and
rotting legs, and sang.

Two

The soft crackle and hiss of flame, the pervasive scent
of smoke mixed with wool and wood, the warm weight
of blankets shielding her body against the chill that
touched her uncovered face, the musty taste of time's
passage in her mouth . . . Crystal opened her eyes.

Above her. parallel lines of logs, bark still clinging,
slanted down to the right. She turned her head and
followed their length until they ended in a wall, also
of rough log, and liberally chinked with mud and
moss- Barely below the eaves, two small windows
made of glass so thick it appeared green let in weak
and watery winter sunlight. She shifted and heard the
rustle of straw as the mattress moved below her.

Inside. And in bed. What else?

Rolling her head back to the left, she saw another
wall, with a door, and close beside the bed a small
table that held a half burned candle, a heavy ceramic
pitcher and a matching mug. Her nose wrinkled. There
was water in the pitcher.

Moving carefully, for muscles shrieked protest at
the gentlest activity. Crystal managed to free an arm
from the constricting bedclothes. She reached out, a
long pale finger touched the edge of the jug, and she
paused.

As much as she needed to drink—and her mouth felt
as though a family of mice had moved in for the win-
ter—she knew the water, or more specifically the swal-
lowing and the weight in her stomach, would only
intensify the craving for food she could feel begin-
ning. Until she could satisfy that she'd best not make
26

THE LAST WIZARD 27

it any worse. Whoever put her here—-in this bed, in
this room—would soon return, for the fire sounded as
if it had almost burned down.

She let her hand fall and concentrated instead on
remembering what had happened. There'd been a man.
No, two men. And a healing. Frowning in disgust over
her lack of recall, she grabbed at the memory and
yanked it forward. Jago. She'd healed Jago's legs. Or
more accurately, rebuilt them, and then rebuilt Jago.
She remembered his life-force fluttering beneath her
power like a wounded bird trying to beat its way free.
But she'd held and healed it, pouring her own life-
force into it until it could manage alone. The last thing
she remembered was hitting the floor, the fall closely
followed by a confused babble of voices. She gri-
maced. No, two confused babbles of voices; one of
them reverberating inside her head.

*'So. You're awake." Dorses said, and paused in the
room's doorway to study the wizard.

Long silver hair spilled across the pillow, not mov-
ing now but not exactly lifeless either. Green eyes were
partially hooded by pale lids, and the one hand that
lay outside the covers seemed almost translucent. It
was easy to believe that this ethereal beauty was a
child of the Mother's Eldest, less easy to believe that
she held the power of life and death in those ivory
Ifands.

"Please . . ." Crystal's voice had an unused rasp.
"Please, I need food."

Dorses watched for an instant longer, keeping her
expression carefully neutral. Did feeding this wizard
indicate approval beyond what she had already? And
if it did, did it matter? No, she realized, it did not. A
moral judgment had been made when she'd had the
helpless woman carried upstairs. That would have been
the time to deny her, not now. She twisted her head
and called over her shoulder, "Ivan, fill a tray and
bring it up."

The half-Udded eyes opened a bit wider and a defi-

28 TanyaHuff

nite twinkle sparkled in the emerald depths. "Rather
a lot of food."

"Ivan!" The yell was a practiced, long-distance
command. "Fill the large tray."

Crystal's lips flickered into a smile, but the expres-
sion took too much effort to maintain. She sighed and
tried to move the taste of mold out of her mouth.

"Can you use a drink?" Dorses assumed nothing,
but the wizard certainly looked like she needed a drink.
Hardly surprising, all things considered.

"Will Ivan be long?"

"No."

"Then I would love a drink."

The intense longing in Crystal's voice made Dorses
thirsty as well. She moved to the bed licking her lips,
filled the mug, and held it to the wizard's mouth.

The water had sat in the pitcher for some hours and
was beginning to go stale and flat, but it couldn't have
tasted better to Crystal had it just been drawn fresh
from a mountain spring. She drained the mug and with
the strength it gave her pulled herself shakily up to
recline against the headboard of the bed. The fire, she
could now see, burned in a small black stove, squat-
ting against the opposite wall.

"If I may . . ." Dorses offered. Slipping an arm
between back and headboard—and the wizard was not
as light as she looked—she rearranged both wizard
and pillows in a more comfortable position.

"Thank you."

"More water?"

"Please."

Using both hands. Crystal managed to hold the mug
and drink. She tried to ignore the spasms of hunger,
concentrating instead on the very real pleasure in her
mouth and throat. When the cup was empty again, she
carefully put it on the table, and turned to the inn-
keeper.

"How long?'* she asked.

As she'd already asked about the food. Dorses as-
sumed the wizard wanted to know how long since the

THE LAST WIZARD 29

healing. "Two and a half days." She moved to tend
(he fire, going over all she wanted to know, ordering
the questions, wondering how best to begin. When a
wizard, the last of all the wizards, collapses in your
common room, a number of questions need answer-
ing. She opened the stove's door and began to rebuild
the fire. Two and a half days ago she'd seen a dead
man come back to life, blackened and rotting legs
made whole and pink, but the why of that was wizard's
work and no business of hers. "Why," she finally
asked without turning, "did you fall?"

For the shelter and the food. Crystal felt the inn-
keeper was entitled to an answer. Her fists clenched
against the hunger, she tried to explain. "He was too
close to Death. Healing the legs wasn't enough. I had
to give some of my life to keep him alive." She forced
the fingers of her right hand to relax so she could in-
dicate the room with a wave. "Why did you ..."
Why did you have me carried upstairs? Why did you
see that I was comfortable and protected? Why did
you shield me from those who would take advantage
of my helplessness? And there would be those, there
always were. All that conveyed in only three words.

Closing the stove door, wiping the wood dust from
her hands. Dorses considered the question. This was
not the first time she'd been asked it in the last two
and a half days. Perhaps it was time she found an
answer. After a moment, she stood and met the wiz-
ard^ eyes. The motion of her hand was a reflection of
Crystal's. "You gave some of your life to keep him
alive," she said.

There were more questions in the silence but Ivan,
arriving with the laden tray, pushed them into another
time.

"I brought some of everything that was ready," he
panted, maneuvering his bulky load through the door
with the ease of long practice, " 'cause you never said
what you wanted on . . ."He stopped as he felt Crys-
tal's eyes on him and all the color drained from his
face. It's one thing to know you serve a wizard; it's

30 TanyaHuff

another thing entirely when that wizard sits up in bed
and stares at you. He took a step backward and his
mouth worked soundlessly.

"Put it by the bed," Dorses ordered sharply, afraid
he was going to turn and run.

Ivan's gaze snapped to Dorses, and finding nothing
there, at least, he didn't understand, he moved tenta-
tively forward and eased the tray down on the small
table.

No longer able to control herself. Crystal grabbed
for the steaming bowl of soup.

Moving backward much faster than he'd advanced,
Ivan retreated out of arm's reach, then paused to watch.
His pale face grew paler as the hot soup disappeared,
but he stood his ground, fascinated.

"Ivan!"

He jumped. He'd forgotten that Dorses still stood by
the stove. "Yes, Dorses?*'

"Haven't you anything to do?"

"Uh,aye."

She waited, arms folded across her chest.

"Uh . . . right. I'U get ta it now." After a last
astounded look at Crystal, who had finished the soup
and was reaching for the tray. he ran from the room.

"Your apprentice?" Crystal asked as she broke open
a fresh biscuit and spread it thickly with butter.

"Aye." Dorses hooked the room's one chair out of
the comer with a toe and sat. "He's a good worker
when he remembers there's work to be done." A nod
at the tray. "Enough?"

Besides the soup and biscuits, the tray held a meat
pie, a bowl of rabbit stew thick with potatoes and car-
rots, a small baked squash, and two apple tarts.

"It should be, thank you.*'

Dorses peered a little nearsightedly at the woman
on the bed. "I'm curious; did you know this would
happen? The collapse? The hunger?"

"The hunger, yes. The energy I use has to be re-
placed." Crystal flushed. "But the other, I'd forgot-
ten. It's been a long time since I've healed someone

THE LAST WIZARD 31

so close to Death. I forgot what it would cost to bring
him back." She paused and licked a bit of gravy from
her lip. Suddenly it occurred to her that Lord Death
had suggested the healing. Somehow, she doubted he'd
forgotten and she wondered why he'd put her in such
a position. "By the time I remembered," she contin-
ued, resolving to question the Mother's son when next
he appeared, "it was too late to stop."

"Could you?"

"Have stopped? Yes."

"Why didn't you when you realized that this,"
Dorses waved a hand at the bed, "would come of it?"

Finished with the stew. Crystal started on the meat
JOG while she searched for a way to make her position
clear. "Once I'd started, it wouldn't have been right
to stop. I'd made him my responsibility by beginning
and I couldn't just let him die. Giving him the life-
force he needed, even knowing it would leave me
helpless while it kept him alive, seemed the lesser of
two evils." She sighed, blowing pastry crumbs over
the bed. "Although I'd have rather not had to do it,"

"Ah." Dorses thought about that for a moment.
This was the first wizard she'd ever heard of who con-
sidered the lesser of two evils. For that matter, she
could think of very few people who would save a
stranger at their own expense. "And what would you
have done," she asked at last, "had you just been
hungry?"

The wizard grinned. "I'd have staggered outside to
the nearest grove and become a tree until spring when
the body of the Mother would feed me."

"If you weren't chopped up for firewood," Dorses
reminded her dryly. "Winters are long here."

Crystal acknowledged the truth of that with a smile.
What a way for a wizard to die. She licked bits of
squash from her fingers. "When I fell, what hap-
pened?"

Dorses shrugged thin shoulders. "Nothing much.
No one wanted to touch you, which wasn't surprising
considering who and what you are. So, after we got

32 Tanya Huff

our other invalids up into bedrooms, I had Nad carry
you up here before liquor overcame common sense."

"Nad wasn't afraid to touch me."

"Nad does what I ask."

Crystal had a pretty good idea that most of the vil-
lage did what this strong-minded woman asked.
"Thank you."

"You're welcome." She spread her hands. "Now
what?"

Crystal flushed again and put down the second tart.
"I can pay you for all of this."

Dorses cut at the air with a dismissive gesture. "It
isn't a problem. There could be blizzards every night
and the place *d still be packed. You're good for busi-
ness. You could eat that way for another five or six
days and still not eat up all the profits you've made me
in the last two nights. What I meant was, now you're
here, do you plan to stay?"

Crystal thought about the aimless wandering she'd
been doing lately, about the fear that greeted her wher-
ever she went save home and the mindless adoration
that greeted her there. So far, there'd been none of
that here. She had spoken more to Dorses than she
had to anyone outside her immediate family in years.
Except, of course, Lord Death. It felt good.

"If you don't mind," she decided suddenly, "I'd
like to stay for a bit."

"Mind? Weren't you listening? You're good for
business." The innkeeper rose, glad to have it settled,
and pleased the wizard was staying; not solely for the
increase in custom. "Ivan!" she called down the stairs.
"Come up for the tray."

He must've been waiting at the bottom of the stairs
for the summons, he reached the room so quickly.

"Chaos," he breathed, spotting the empty dishes.
He lifted the tray gingerly, it had been used by a wiz-
ard, after all. "I only ever saw Nad eat that much
before." It was this, not the miraculous healing, that
marked her as truly powerful in his mind. Pood, he

THE LAST WIZARD 33

understood. He tried a tentative smile. To his shock
and joy it was returned.

"Thank you, Ivan." Her voice was a summer
breeze.

"You're welcome, L-Lady," Ivan stammered and
floated from the room, so totally oblivious to his sur-
roundings Dorses had to move out of his way.

Puzzled by the young man's behavior. Dorses
glanced questioningly toward the woman on the bed
and suddenly saw what Ivan had; a soft, exotic beauty
with a hint of need and a promise of passion. A beauty
more a matter of expression than eyes or lips or cheek.
She pursed her own lips in admiration; this was a
power she understood.

"At least he no longer fears me," Crystal explained
softly, letting the expression fall, becoming no less
beautiful but certainly less accessible.

"If you think Ivan in love will be easier to man-
age," the other woman said dryly, "I wish you joy of
him. Do you thus lay the fear in all men?"

"No." Her laugh was a little embarrassed. "Two
years older or two years younger and that wouldn't
have worked." She remembered other men who'd
howled curses at her, or pleas, or just howled. Ivan's
uncomplicated sweetness was like a balm across the
memories.

"Well, if you're well enough," Dorses spoke over
her thought, "there's one man I wish you'd see. That
Raulin's been driving me crazy trying to get into your
room."

"Raulin? The brother?" She wondered what he
wanted. Over the last twelve years she'd learned they
always wanted something. "I guess I'd better see
him."

"Good, 1*11 tell him . . ." Dorses paused in the
doorway, nodded once, and added, ". . . Crystal."
Then she was gone.

A long time, the wizard thought sadly, since some-
one said my name in friendship. Except, she added
upon reflection, for Lord Death.

34 'EanyaHuff

It was too soon for the food to do any good, even
in a wizard's system, but Crystal imagined that she
could feel her power grow. It frightened her being
helpless; there were too many who would love to make
wizard pay for a wizard's crimes. She studied the ceil-
ing and reached out just a little.

The logs were pine. The branch now growing into
the room at her urging, fully needled, and tipped with
a pair of pinecones, proved it.

"More power back than I thought," Crystal mut-
tered. She'd only intended a light touch. "This could
be embarrassing to explain.'*

Out in the hall she heard Dorses trying to make an
impression on someone who didn't appear to be lis-
tening.

". . . and you will not stay long. She'll be here for
a few days, you'll likely see her again before you
leave."

"I only want to thank her. That's all."

Crystal wasn't sure, but she thought she recognized
the voice, although when she'd heard it last, it had
quavered with pain and exhaustion. Raulin. He spoke
in a kind of lazy drawl she found pleasing. The voice
of a man who smiles a lot she decided; smiles and
means every one.

"Lady?"

Rested and fed. Raulin was much more attractive
than he'd been that night in the tavern. It wasn't so
much the features—the nose a bit large, the gray eyes
a bit deep, the brows a bit too definite, the mustache
more than a bit ... Crystal paused, uncertain of how
to describe the mustache but it was more than a bit,
that was for sure—but rather how he wore them: with
laugh lines, and a twinkle, and a willingness to be
delighted by life.

"Lady?" he repeated and stepped into the room.
"Mind if I come in?"

"You're in," she pointed out.

He smiled. "And you don't seem to mind."

THE LAST WIZARD 35

No, she didn't. She returned the smile and said,
"You wanted to see me?"

"I*ve been trying for the last two days," he admit-
ted. "In fact," his smile grew broader, "Dorses would
say I've been very trying."

Crystal gave a gurgle of laughter, the sort of uncom-
plicated response she thought only her younger brother
could evoke. "I really doubt Dorses would," she told
him.

"Maybe not." He reached the edge of the bed and
dropped to his knees. His face grew serious and his
eyes stared fearlessly into hers. "You saved my broth-
er's life," he said. "I can never thank you for (hat,
there aren't the words, but I wish you could know how
IfeeL"

Maybe later she would warn him about the dangers
of looking into a wizard's eyes.

An emerald spark appeared and Crystal took the gift
Raulin so innocently offered, moving across their gaze
into his heart. It held little darkness, she found, and
much light. At the center of the light was Jago. The
younger brother, much loved and protected. The com-
panion, the right arm, the other half. A man to guard
his back, a friend to guard his dreams. Could he lose
this much of his life and still have a life remaining?

Crystal didn't know she was crying until a gentle
finger wiped away a tear.

"Lady?"

She caught his reaching hand and held it for a mo-
ment. "I do know how you feel," she said, so softly
he had to lean forward to catch the words. "And I am
well thanked for your brother's life.*'

To her astonishment, he brought the hand that held
his to his lips and kissed its back, his mustache draw-
ing fine lines of sensation across the skin.

"Lady," he told her, allowing her to reclaim her
arm, "I will continue thanking you all the days I live."
His smile returned. "And never has gratitude been
expressed so willingly."

36 Tanyaffuff

Was he flirting with her? Crystal tilted her head and
gazed at the man in puzzlement.

"And if my thanks could be expressed in some more
tangible way . . ."

She recognized that tone. He was flirting with her.

"You have only to command me. Lady. I long to
fulfill your every wish." The florid words were ac-
companied by a mighty flourish of an imaginary hat.

"Uh, no wishes at the moment."

"Well. then . . ." He stood and dusted off his
knees. "I'd best get back to Jago." The smile became
a grin. "He's not as pretty, but I don't want him to
spill soup in the bed. We can't afford a second one."
He bowed, winked—she was quite sure he winked—
and left.

Crystal shook her head. What an unusual man. His
gratitude seemed truly to come with no strings. And
Dorses appeared to want her around only because, for
some unsaid reason, she liked her. Did everyone she'd
met today play a very deep game or were they actually
aware of her as a separate being, not necessarily evil
because she was a wizard and not some thing to take
advantage of because she had power? Had she stum-
bled on a small pocket of crazy people? Or perhaps,
her expression grew slightly wistful, had she found the
last of the sane?

Lord Death stood in a corner of the room and
watched Crystal's face, wishing he could read her mind
to see what prompted such a soft and dreamy look.
She wasn't aware he could be with her unseen and he
had no intention of telling her. If there were dead or
dying present, she always saw him, but at other times
he often chose to just spend time invisibly watching.

He was pleased to see he'd been right about Dorses.
This woman could accept what Crystal was. He'd
thought as much when he'd urged Crystal to heal that
young man, knowing what it would take out of her,
knowing it would throw her on the mercy of the inn-
keeper. The wizard needed to spend more time with

THE LAST WIZARD 37

people and less time brooding about her future.
Brooding would lead her nowhere good.

He wished she'd confide in him about what had been
bothering her lately. He wanted to help but didn't know
how. Perhaps she'd say something to mortal ears. Once
it was in the open he'd be able to do something.

The pleasure faded as he considered Raulin. It was
so easy to forget Crystal had a mortal heritage as well
and he greatly feared she now found herself in the
company of one who would appeal to that side.

He didn't want to understand the pain he'd felt when
the mortal touched her.

He was Lord Death and pain was not a part of that.

He looked up and the pine branch died.

The next morning. Crystal left her room, wandered
down to the kitchens, and astounded the innkeeper by
not only suggesting a new way of doing turnips, a
staple in the local diet, but by then preparing the dish
herself.

Dorses, knowing Crystal's background as both Prin-
cess and Wizard, for who in that part of the world did
not, assumed it was something she'd learned in the
dozen years since the defeat of Kraydak, made a note
of the recipe, and asked no questions.

Crystal, thanking the vegetarian centaurs for teach-
ing her at least one skill that served some purpose in
the mortal world, offered no explanations. She had no
wish to underline differences, not when she felt so
content.

While they worked, the two women talked, and
firmed their tentative feelings of friendship.

When Ivan came in from morning chores, he brought
a dried and delicate wild rose, found perfectly pre-
served, mixed in with the summer's hay. Wordlessly
he presented it to Crystal, accepted her thanks with
glowing eyes—few wizards' had ever been so bright—
and pink with pleasure, watched her wind it in her hair
where it slowly softened and lived again.

The afternoon. Crystal spent with Raulin. He made

38 TanyaHuff

her laugh with his wild flattery, and she felt herself
beginning to respond to his obvious interest. In his
own way he was as single-minded as those who saw
only the wizard, but it was a single-mindedness she
couldn't help but appreciate. It was a nice change.

Although he never mentioned it, his accent told her
he came from the Empire. She wondered how he'd
managed to survive the long years of Kraydak's rule
with his good nature intact.

That evening, she lay on her bed, listening to the
sounds rising up from the common room, one hand
gently stroking the velvet petals of Ivan's rose. Dorses
had asked her to come down, but she hadn't the cour-
age to face the locals and risk their almost certain fear
and rejection.

"There," Nad sat back on his heels and beamed
down at his handiwork. He'd just set new andirons into
one of the common room's giant hearths and he was
pleased with the way the design looked. "You see,**
he said, "they've got ta be large enough ta carry the
load but not so large young Ivan here can't move them
out ta clean the ashes like. And as this is a public
place," he looked up at his audience and smiled,
"then best make 'em easy on the eyes."

Crystal grinned back and tucked one foot up under
her on the bench. With both hearths unlit, the room
was far from warm. "They're certainly very pretty,"
she agreed. "I've never seen irons shaped like stag
homs before."

"Stag horns!" Dorses snorted from behind the bar
where she was counting stock. "All I asked was that
they be thick enough not to melt out of shape and he
brings me stag horns!"

. "Actually, they don't look very thick," Crystal said
softly to Nad, not wanting to get him in trouble with
the innkeeper and her quest for durability. "Are they
likely to melt?"

"Nay." The blacksmith's brow puckered and he
scratched at the bald patch on top of his head. "But

THE LAST WIZARD 39

they may sag a tad the next time we have a cold snap
and some stonehead overloads the fire."

"That would be a definite shame." She slid off the
bench and onto her knees beside him. "May I?"

"Be my guest." Nad waved a hand, puzzled but
gracious.

Crystal leaned forward and lightly touched both ant-
lers. The iron flared a sudden brilliant green. "No fire
built in this hearth can affect them now," she ex-
plained as the glow faded. "They'll always be as lovely
as they are today."

"Well, I'm much obliged," Nad's broad features
were rosy. Praise always made him Blush, for he could
see the flaws he'd left even if no one else could, and
this was high praise indeed. "That's a right handy
trick." He gave her a sly grin. "Can you straighten
nails?"

She laughed and held out her hand.

The nail Nad dropped on her palm had certainly
seen better days. It was bent not once but twice, and
touched with rust as well.

She held it gently by the head and stroked the index
finger of her other hand down its length. No green
glow answered. The nail turned cherry red and melted
into slag.

"Good thing we were on the hearth," Nad observed
philosophically.

Crystal stared down at the tiny puddle of molten
metal. She didn't understand; the power had begun to
answer, then it had twisted off as if responding to an-
other call. She wiped suddenly sweaty hands on her
thighs. "That's . . . that's never happened before."

"Idiot, " sneered a voice in her head.

"You shouldn't get upset about it." Nad grasped her
shoulder lightly with a warm and comforting hand,
misinterpreting Crystal's bleak expression. He liked
the girl. Let others argue the mortality of wizards—
and they had been for the three days this one had been
at the Nugget—she was kind and she was beautiful and
that was enough for him. He loved beauty and tried to

40 TanyaHuff

put a little into everything he made; from pickaxes, to
plows, to andirons. "I couldn't have used that nail
agin anyway, not bent as it was,*' he continued, smil-
ing sympathetically. "I guess you were still fired up.','
His blunt chin pointed at the stag horns. "From doin^
t'other."

"I guess." She managed a small smile in return
because the blacksmith looked so upset at her distress.
She wanted to accept his explanation. She hadn't been
paying much attention to the nail, it was such a small
thing, and she could easily believe she'd used too much
power- Foolish, for attention should be paid to the
smallest of power uses, but not frightening. Except for
the voice.

"Well now, look who's comin* down ta join us,"
Nad got to his feet and extended a massive hand to
Crystal.

She took it and stood, fortunately enough taller so
that Nad's huge shoulders weren't blocking her view,

Slowly descending the stairs, placing each foot
firmly but with care, was Jago. He'd been shaved, his
hair washed and rebraided, and no trace of his injuries
was apparent, but knuckles showed white in the hand
that gripped the banister and his gaze never rose from
his path. Raulin followed closely behind, his expres-
sion as proud as if he'd taught Jago to walk.

"Well, you certainly look a sight better than you
did," Nad boomed, striding forward to meet the
brothers at the foot of the stairs. "Just tryin' out the
new pins are you?"

"Yes," Jago said shortly. He was out of banister
and it was a good five feet to the nearest bench.

Nad looked at Jago, looked at the open space he
must cross, and understood the hesitation. "You've
nothin* ta worry about, them legs of yours are as good
as new."

"I know that," Jago's tone was polite, but only just
barely.

"I've been telling him the same thing," Raulin put
in. "Not that they ever were much . . ."

THE LAST WIZARD 41

"Raulin . . ."

"And it'd not be polite to let the lady wizard think
you didn't trust her healin'," Nad added.

Jago's lips narrowed. "It's not that, I ..." He
trailed off, unsure how to explain.

"It's just you saw your legs,** Crystal said gently,
stepping into his line of sight. "Before you lost con-
sciousness you saw and you knew what you had to
look forward to if you woke. And no healing can erase
a memory like that, not if the Mother-creator Herself
had been the healer. You know your legs are whole,
but you can't believe; not quite, not yet."

"Yes." He nodded, both with respect and relief that
someone understood. "That's it exactly." He took a
deep breath, avoided Raulin's reaching hand, and
walked to the bench. Then he sat, visibly unclenched
his jaw, and smiled up at his brother. "What do you
mean they never were much?" he demanded.

Below his mustache, Raulin's smile was identical. It
was the one feature they held in common. "I meant
in comparison, of course."

"I think," Nad turned a beaming face on Dorses,
who watched from behind the bar, "this calls for a
drink."

"Not surprising," the innkeeper said dryly, "you
think everything calls for a drink-*' But she filled five
tankards with ale and joined the others at a table.

Crystal studied Jago's face while he drank, and when
he lowered his tankard he caught her at it. He met her
eyes as forthrightly as his brother had, his own holding
neither fear nor suspicion, only a cautious reserve.
Raulin had laid himself open for her taidng; Jago only
acknowledged that she could. His eyes were a very
dark violet and he was among the handsomest men
Crystal had ever met. She looked away first, found
Raulin studying her, flushed, and ended up staring into
her ale. This showed all the signs of becoming very
complicated.

". . . certainly the most excitin' night we've ever
had at the Nugget," Nad was saying. "As if you three

42 Tanya Huff

weren't enough, we found at closin' time old Timon
had already left with Lord Death."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing ta worry about," the blacksmith has-
tened to explain, "he had ta be ninety if he was a day.
Just his time.'' He took another drink of his ale. ' 'Still,
the Nugget's not likely to see another night like that
in a hurry.*'

"Nor want to," Dorses said emphatically.

"Now I don't know about that," Raulin drawled,
winking in Crystal's direction. "Everything turned out
for the best."

Jago raised his tankard to his brother. "Next time
you distract the brindle."

"Brindle tried to eat me, I'd choke him."

"You've always been hard to swallow." Jago's tone
was light, but his face had tensed. It didn't take a
wizard to see memories crowding up against the ban-
ter.

"Dorses?" Ivan stuck his head in from the kitchen.
"It's near sunset and the biscuits aren't ..."

"Near sunset? As late as that?" Dorses leaped to
her feet and scooped the tankards from the table. "Put
the dry ingredients together, I'll be there in a min-
ute."

Ivan's head disappeared-

"You lot can stay or go as you please," Dorses told
them, dumping the tankards behind the bar and head-
ing for the kitchen. "But sunset's when I unbolt the
doors. Crystal, if you don't mind, the fires, we've not
much time - - ." And she was gone.

Crystal, if you don't mind, the fires . . . She turned
the words over in her mind, oblivious to the others in
the room. Crystal, if you don't mind, the fires ... Of
all her many acquaintances, over all the years, only
the old Duke of Belkar had treated her power as though
it was a useful tool-

"Lady?" Jago's worried voice brought her back to
the Nugget's common room. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," she turned the brilliance of her joy on him.

THE LAST WIZARD 43

"I've seldom been better." Crystal, if you don't mind,
the fires . . .

She waved a hand at the new andirons and they dis-
appeared beneath a load of wood. She turned to the
other hearth, found the wood already laid, pointed a
finger at each and said, "Bum."

A flare of green and both hearths filled with flame.

"She's good with fires," Nad confided to the broth-
ers as the room began to warm-

"Ah," sighed the voice in her head.

It sounded pleased, but Crystal was too pleased her-
self to notice.

"Will you stay a while and enjoy the fruits of your
labors?" Raulin asked, more than one invitation ap-
parent in his voice. "Seems like a pity to waste such
heat."

Pleasure faded and Crystal headed for the stairs.
"No," she said without turning, "I can't."

"Crystal . . ."

A murmur from Jago cut off Raulin's next words,
and she escaped to her room.

"I have had it with this!"

Crystal glanced up from the potato she was dicing.
"Had it with what?" she asked.

"This!" Dorses glared at the disassembled pieces
of the water pump. "Nothing but trouble and Nad's
off at the mine today." She rubbed at her forehead,
leaving a smudge of rust behind. "I don't suppose you
could fix it."

"Sorry." Crystal shrugged. "But pump repairs were
never something they taught me."

Dorses sighed. "I didn't think so."

After the incident with the nail, the strange and sud-
den twist. Crystal was hesitant to use her power on the
pump, but neither did she want to let Dorses down.
"Perhaps I could look at it anyway."

"Couldn't hurt," the innkeeper admitted standing
aside. "I^n out of ideas."

With her index finger. Crystal pushed a metal ring

44 TanyaHuff

along the counter. It clinked against a stubby cylinder.
The wizard took a deep breath. There had to be almost
twenty bits and pieces of metal spread out in front of
her and she had no idea of what to do with any of
them. She wanted desperately to repay some small part
of Dorses' kindness.

Her left hand lifted a tiny bolt and fitted it into the
plate in her right hand. Crystal bit back a scream. Her
hand had moved; she hadn't moved it.

"Crystal? Are you all right?"

"Fine,** she managed, watching her fingers screw
two totally incomprehensible things together. Dorses
must not find out what was happening. Her right hand
attached something to the pipe at the top of the pump.
She couldn't bear it if this pushed Dorses away, as it
must. Her left hand placed a second piece on the first.
Her mind still seemed her own, but her hands moved
at another's command. Strangest of all, behind her
surface terror stood a wall of competence and calm.

"Relax," suggested a voice.

"React," sneered another.

The first voice was new, but the second she'd heard
before.

With a sharp snick of metal against metal, her hands
fixed the rebuilt cap onto the pump, tightened the col-
lar, then fell limply to her sides. For a very long mo-
ment, they burned and itched with the not exactly
unpleasant sensation of returning blood, then that
faded and they were hers again. She raised them to her
face, studied the palms, turned them over and studied
the backs. Fortunately, the feeling of calm remained,
distancing her still from what had just happened.

"You didn't cut yourself?" Dorses was a little wor-
ried; Crystal stood there so quietly, staring at her
hands.

"Uh . . . no."

"Lets see what ..." The innkeeper moved around
the wizard's motionless body. "Mother-creator, you've
rebuilt it!" She grabbed the handle and began to pump

THE LAST WIZARD 45

vigorously. "Let's hope it wasn't in pieces long enough
for the pipes to freeze."

"Do they?'* Crystal asked, only because she felt
she must say something.

"Chaos, yes. Once the cold weather sets in, Ivan's
up every couple hours in the night keeping the water
moving." A cough and a sputter and a splash of cold
liquid shot out the mouth of the pump. Dorses smiled
in satisfaction. "I hate having to melt snow," she con-
fided to Crystal. "I thank you from the bottom of my
heart."

Crystal opened her mouth, unsure of what she was
going to say but uneasy over taking credit for some-
thing she hadn't done. To her horror, words spilled
out without her willing them. "Consider it a gift from
the goddess." And me calm disappeared.

' "Think highly of yourself, don't you,' * Dorses laughed,
still facing the pump, not seeing the fear that robbed all
power from the wizard's features. "I've a barrel of beer
that could use a blessing then; it's going skunky."

"Maybe later . . ." Crystal choked out, and fled.
For one of the few times in her life, she thanked the
centaurs for their insistence on emotional control—
although for them control meant denial—drummed over
and over into the child she had been until it became
almost second nature to hide what she felt. Those les-
sons served her now, keeping all the terrified bits of
her together and moving.

"Crystal?" Dorses turned, but the kitchen was
empty. She wondered if she should follow. Had she
said something wrong? But the soup boiled over on
the stove, and once that was taken care of the pies
needed finishing, and the moment for following
passed.

Up in her room. Crystal lay in the center of the bed,
knees drawn up to her chest, eyes squeezed shut, arms
wrapped tightly around her head, and her hair a silver
veil over all- Only her lips moved. Over and over they
formed a denial, of the voices that whispered and

46 Tanya Huff

roared and of the knowledge of what those voices
meant. "No, no, no, no. . . ."

Unseen beside her. Lord Death reached out a hand.
It hovered a moment close above a shoulder he couldn't
touch and when he withdrew it, the fingers closed to
form a fist. The comfort of Death, he thought, is a
cruel joke.

"Crystal?"

The banging on her door was persistent and loud.

"Crystal, open the door!"

Slowly she unfolded and still more slowly stood.
She waved a hand and the door swung open.

Raulin, his hand raised to bang again, took a quick
step into the room. "Are you all right?" he demanded
anxiously- "Dorses says you've been up here since
morning. She figured if you could keep the door closed
you must be fine, but me, I wanted proof." He moved
forward and brushed her hair back off her face, leaving
his hand resting gently against her cheek. He had to
tilt his head slightly to meet her eyes. "What's
wrong?"

Crystal wet her lips. She'd fought all day, banishing
the voices, building and reinforcing shields in her
mind. Her nerves hung balanced on the dagger's edge
and she could not allow herself the luxury of hysterics,
not inside, not where others could be hurt. "I think,"
she said softly, "I don't want to be alone." Then, as
Raulin continued to meet her eyes, she blushed deeply.

His answering smile banished much of the day's ter-
ror.

"No," she corrected hurriedly, "not that." She
moved her face against the warmth of his hand. "Not
yet."

"Then come down to the common room," he sug-
gested, marveling at the satin feel of her skin, daring
to trace one finger down the curve of her throat. Not
yet meant later. He could wait. "Jago's down there
now; he's enough of a wonder to hold them. They
won't even notice you."

THE LAST WIZARD 47

She cocked her head to listen and noticed for the
first time the noise sifting through the floor. "Is it as
late as that . . ."

As she obviously didn't require an answer, Raulin
concentrated instead on coaxing her to the door. When
she balked on the threshold, he slipped an arm around
her waist. "You did say you didn't want to be alone,"
he reminded her. He withdrew his arm as an emerald
glow reminded him who he held. Cautioned but un-
daunted, he tucked her arm in his and, when that pro-
voked no objection, kept her moving toward the stairs.

The common room was packed and, as Raulin had
said, Jago stood in the center of an admiring court,
the more vocal of whom were trying to get him out of
his pants,

"Come on, laddie," called an old woman with a
voice like crushed stone, "let's see them legs!"

"Let's have some skin," cried out a much younger
one.

Most of the crowd had obviously been drinking
heavily. Jago did not appear to be having a particularly
good time-

"He hates being the center of attention." Raulin
confided to Crystal as he steered her to a table in the
back, the same table she'd sat at the night it all began.

"And you'd have your pants off?"

"In a minute." He grinned. "There's little I hate
more than false modesty."

Over the multitude of heads, Jago—boosted up on a
table by Nad, partially to give everyone a good view,
partially to keep him safe—met Crystal's eyes. She
knew he saw her, it wasn't a mistake she could make,
but in no way did he acknowledge her presence. It
showed a sensitivity to her feelings she hadn't ex-
pected and she found herself warming to the younger
man. With nothing to draw their attention, the crowd
indeed didn't notice her and she sat unseen until Nad
innocently gave it away, only wanting Crystal to share
in the glory. "And there's the Lady," he called, with

48 TanyaHuff

a happy smile and a pointing finger. "The one who
did the healin*.'*

The crowd fell silent as they turned and the weight
of their gaze pushed Crystal to her feet. She felt her
power build in answer to theirs. A crowd could be-
come a mob very quickly, she knew, and quicker still
when drink had blurred the boundaries.

"Wizard?"

The sound rose in a questioning wave and could still
break either way when a man with an eye patched
pushed to the front of the pack and said, "Where's my
son, wizard. Where's my boy?"

Crystal kept silent. No answer she could give would
satisfy. It never had before. She felt the familiar tight-
ness in her stomach.

A woman, with a steel hook where her right hand
should be, stepped forward to stand by the one-eyed
man and the mob took them as their center and formed
about them. Some murmured names. Others rubbed
scars. They all remembered the day, twelve years be-
fore, when the Wizard's Horde had come.

"Wizard."

A growl now, an unpleasant rumble.

The funny thing was, if she actually was what they
accused her of, they wouldn't dare accuse.

She saw Jago tense, his place on the table giving
him an advantage in the fight that was sure to begin.
Nad, his honest face puzzled, looked from one friend
to another, unsure of what was happening. Beside her,
she heard Raulin stand, and felt him ready for battle.
She was very glad Ivan stayed safely in the kitchen.

"Wizard!"

Their common voice rising to a howl the crowd
surged forward, arms reaching to clutch, but they
slammed against a barrier and continued to slam
against it as the wizard walked through them and up
the stairs.

In the upper hall she paused. The crowd had not yet
turned its attention on those who'd stood beside her.
Before it could she reached out, wrapped Raulin and

THE LAST WIZARD 49

Jago in her power, and twitched them to safety; one
heartbeat there, the next gone. Even if Raulin hadn't
enough sense to stay in their room, Jago, she strongly
suspected, would keep him locked inside. She heard
Dorses' voice, falling like cold water on the din, slap-
ping down and relocking the passion.

Not until she reached the safety of her own room
did she allow the barrier to fall. They were all the
same, the ones who hated, they never realized they
couldn't hurt her-

Physically.

The voices kept her company all through the long
night that followed. Not until morning did she regain
enough power to push them back in their place.

Three

"Chaos, Jago, you owe her! The least we can do is
tell her and let her choose." Raulin stuffed a heavy
wool shirt into his pack, and reached for a pair of thick
gray socks. His brother's hand clamped down just
above his wrist.

"Those," Jago pointed out, grabbing the socks and
tossing them in his own pack, "are mine." He re-
leased Raulin's arm and returned to methodically fold-
ing his own spare clothes and neatly placing them
inside the oilcloth bag.

"I don't believe you, that you'd begrudge your own
brother a pair of socks,'* Raulin muttered. "Your
own brother ..."

"/ remember what old Dector told us; up in the
mountains a pair of warm, dry socks could save your
life."

Raulin released his pack and threw both arms up
into the air. "Which is exactly the point I'm trying to
make. Do you want to depend on a pair of socks? She's
a wizard, Jago! For the Mother's sake, think of what
that means!"

"I have thought of it, which is obviously more than
you've done."

"Look," Raulin managed to keep his voice reason-
able as he began ticking points off on his fingers, "she
saved your life. If that sort of thing happens again
wouldn't you want to have her around?"

Jago's lips tightened. "Yes," he admitted.

"And then last night, you know as well as I do that
she pulled our asses out of the fire with that trick. We'd
50

THE LAST WIZARD 51

have been sleeping with Lord Death if she'd left us
there."

"That's not what you said last night."

When the brothers had found themselves suddenly
up in their room instead of in the middle of a howling
crowd, Raulin had been furious. First, at the crowd
for daring to raise a hand against the woman who'd
cured his brother. Second, at Crystal for removing him
before he could lift his hands in return. Had Jago not
kicked his feet out from under him and then sat on
him until he settled down, Raulin would've stormed
back down the stairs and thrown himself into the fray.

Causing exactly the sort of riot Jago suspected Crys-
tal was trying to prevent.

Raulin, once calmed and convinced Crystal would
not want to see him, went to bed and fell quickly
asleep. Knowing why, he didn't care how she'd gotten
them out of the tavern and into their room, nor did he
worry about the implications of the act.

Jago, however, lay for hours, staring at the ceiling,
his thoughts tumbling to the cadence of his brother's
snoring. Such power expended on their behalf made
him nervous. One hand dropped to rest on his thigh.
They already owed this wizard more than they could
repay and now the debt had grown. With Raulin so
ready to take up arms in her defense, he'd have no
choice but to stand by the wizard's side. Although, he
was forced to admit, he'd have stood there for the debt's
sake as well. And for hers . . .

For two and a half days he'd carried a piece of her
life and that tied them in ways he had no wish to be
tied. Not to a wizard. Not even this one, beautiful and
desirable as she undeniably was.

Their city had been conquered by Kraydak's Horde
in their great-grandfather's time—although Kraydak
was not known as a wizard then—and by the time of
Jago's birth the excesses of the conqueror were an ac-
cepted part of existence. People lived their lives and
did what they could to avoid coming to his attention.
During the Great War, when Kraydak had stood re-

52 Tanya Huff

vealed as what he was, nothing had changed. People
tried harder not to be noticed and prayed to whatever
they still believed in that they wouldn't be called upon
to serve.

"And now," Jago had muttered to himself, "twelve
years after surviving that we're not only noticed but
serving." He'd sighed, elbowed Raulin to stop the
snoring, and finally fallen asleep.

"I said, last night was different!"

Jago started, snapped out of his reverie by Raulin's
voice. "Sorry. I was thinking."

Raulin tied down the last thong on his pack. "You
think too much."

"Yeah? Well, Fin thinking for two."

"And," Raulin continued, ignoring the dig, "you
never listen."

"I never ..." Jago yanked at the cord around his
neck and pulled a small leather pouch up from under
his shirt. "Well, all right then." He whipped it over
his head and threw it across the room. The pouch
smacked in the center of Raulin's chest. "Go ahead.
Give it to her. But don't be surprised if she thanks you
very kindly, tells us we've no business meddling, and
pops off with it. Remember your own words; she's a
wizard."

"And so, in spite of everything she's done for us.
we're not to trust her?"

"I didn't say that!"

"You think she'll betray us?"

"I didn't say that either."

"Then what are you saying?"

Jago opened his mouth to remind his brother of the
creed they'd lived their lives by and then closed it
again. They'd been noticed; there was no retreating
from that. And he did trust her; he couldn't not. But
still, she was a wizard and accepting her did not deny
that wizards had always, without exception, made their
own rules. "I don't know," he said finally.

Raulin reached out and gave one of Jago's braids an
affectionate tug. "Don't worry, little brother. We'll

THE LAST WIZARD 53

just ask her, she'll say yes or no, and that'll be the
end of it." He slipped the cord over his own head but
left the pouch hanging loose. "We'll pack the sled
later." He headed out the door. "Come on."

"Who never listens?" Jago sighed, grabbed up his
vest, and followed.

"So you're really goin' then?"

Crystal nodded, gray circles beneath her eyes mute
testimony to a sleepless night.

"I wish you wouldn't," Nad muttered, staring down
into the deep mahogany of his morning tea. "I'm sure
they'd come ta like you in time." Then his lips twisted
and he shook his head. "Nay, they wouldn't either."
He looked up and sighed. "It's too bad there's nothin'
great for you ta do, like a shaft collapsin' or the plague
or somethin' that'd bring them ta need you."

"You're not suggesting she collapse a shaft, are
you?" Dorses asked, wrapping Crystal's nearly unre-
sponsive fingers about a mug of steaming tea. She kept
her tone light, hoping to lift the pall of gloom that
hung about the woman- A half smile rewarded the at-
tempt while Nad sputtered and tried to explain.

"I understand," Crystal said finally as Nad's sen-
tences became more and more confused, "but it
doesn't matter, not really. If a shaft collapsed while I
was here, no matter how many lives I saved the fault
would end up mine. And any plague I cured I would
also be accused of causing."

Nad's eyes glistened. "You can't win." He blinked
back tears and cleared his throat. "You just can't
win."

Crystal felt his own eyes fill and bit her lip to keep
the tears from spilling. Nothing undid her control fas-
ter than sympathy and understanding. She took a hur-
ried gulp of tea, scalding her mouth but glad of an
action to hide behind.

*'Yo, Crystal!" Raulin peered in from the empty
common room. "Can we talk to you a moment?" His

54 TanyaHuff

brows waggled and beneath his mustache was an en-
thusiastic grin.

The Nugget's kitchen was warm and safe and with
the prospect of leaving the inn before her. Crystal
wanted to stay both warm and safe for as long as she
could. But Raulin had stood beside her and Jago had
shared her life so she set down her mug and got slowly
to her feet.

As she brushed by Raulin—he remained in the door-
way holding open the door, leaving very little room
for her—she wished for an instant he'd come to her
last night and she could have lost the pain in his arms.
Except she wouldn't have, and she knew it. Too late
now . . .

"We . . ." He pushed the door shut and stepped
away from it into the common room. "Jago and I have
a proposition for you."

Crystal looked from one to the other; from Raulin's
enthusiasm to Jago's wary stare. "What?" she asked
finally.

"We have a map that will lead us to one of the
ancient wizards* old towers." Raulin patted the pouch
hanging on his chest. "We want you to go with us."

Emerald eyes blinked twice and Crystal shook her
head. "What?" she repeated but with an entirely dif-
ferent emphasis.

Raulin put a foot up on a bench and propped his
elbow on his thigh. "Look, I know it's hard to believe,
but it's true. After you defeated Kraydak, things went
a little crazy in me Empire, every two copper power
mogul trying to gain control. While things were, well,
stirred up, we found this map."

"We stole it from the office of Kray dak's city gov-
ernor."

"Jago!"

"If you're telling her at all, tell her the truth."

"He was dead. He didn't need it."

"Wait." Crystal held up her hand, cutting the in-
cipient argument short. "Did you kill him?"

THE LAST WIZARD 55

Jago showed teeth in an unpleasant smile. "Not ex-
actly."

"While I warned His Excellency that a lynch mob
waited out front," Raulin explained in a flat voice,
"Jago led them to the rear exit."

"And when he tried to slip out the back they ripped
him to shreds?" Crystal asked, although she didn't
really need to.

Once again Raulin's smile matched his brother's.
"Eventually."

The city governor had been Kraydak's hand, a hand
holding Kraydak's whip; Crystal spared him little sym-
pathy. After twelve years of being the only wizard in
a mortal worid. Crystal had come to feel there was
'almost an excuse for what Kraydak had become; there
wasn't so much as a rationalization for the mortals
who had turned on their own kind. What the brothers
had done had been as necessary as stepping on a roach.

"You/oun^a map?" she prodded.

"Oh, yeah." Raulin pulled himself free of memo-
ries. "I only noticed it because the Right Honorable
Scumsucker dropped it scurrying out the door. I
grabbed it . . ."He paused, decided the rest of what
he'd stripped from the room had no real relevance to
the tale, and continued. "Mother wanted to be a
Scholar, couldn't of course, it was an outlawed disci-
pline, but she read constantly and even managed to get
her hands on a number of the forbidden texts. She
recognized the sigil on the map.'*

"A bleeding hand," Jago interjected, "on a circle
of black. Aryalan. One of the ancient wizards." His
tone, unlike Raulin's, held no enthusiasm, no excite-
ment. Raulin told a story. He reported facts.

Crystal felt Jago's disapproval, it surrounded him
like a fog, but she was uncertain whether he disap-
proved of the weight of history that accompanied the
wizard's name, the situation he and his brother now
found themselves in, or her hearing of it.

"How can you be sure," she asked, "that the map
leads to her tower."

56 TanyaHuff

"We can't," Raulin admitted cheerfully. "No one
can read the script. What's more, it must have been
recopied so many times over the centuries it's got a
virgin's chance in Chaos of retaining any of the orig-
inal wording. But it does lead to something of the wiz-
ard's, something important and big. That much we're
sure of. Think of it. Crystal," he leaned forward and
his hands clutched at dreams, "a treasure house of the
ancients, lost since the Age of Wizards ended. Ours
for the taking. Yours too if you'll come. Chaos knows,
your talents could come in handy." Then his voice
softened. *'And we'd like your company."

For an instant Crystal thought. So, he would find
use for me after all, then realized she did Raulin a
disservice. It took no wizard to see that he wanted her
more than he wanted her power. The power was only
a useful addition. She glanced at Jago and he answered
her silent question with a terse nod; more conscious
of the wizard than his brother and therefore more wary
of the woman.

This was what she'd been looking for, a new venture
to involve her power now that the purpose she'd been
created for was done. Something to give her life di-
rection; for she had no doubt that although this pair of
mortals might be able to breach the wizard's tower,
thereU be power within it only she could handle. If
she went with them, she'd be necessary again.

And more than that.

Companionship on the trail, laughter to chase away
the loneliness, warm arms instead of cold power
wrapped around her at night.

Raulin's gaze was a caress and, behind the caution
in Jago's eyes, warmth lurked.

She felt herself respond, an answering heat rising.
To her horror, she felt something rise with it, stirring
behind the heavy shields that blocked the voices, felt
it through the barriers, its strength bringing all the
other bits and pieces with it and threatening to fling
them free.

Crystal clutched at her concept of self. "I can't,"

THE LAST WIZARD 57

she gasped, turning and fleeing. Halfway up the stairs
she paused and let go enough to face them again, say-
ing softly, **Be careful."

Raulin only stared, but Jago answered in tones
matching hers, "You also."

And then she was gone.

"Well," Raulin said after standing a moment in
stunned silence, "you were a lot of help."

"Huh?"

"I'm not surprised she ran. with you glowering at
her like that."

"I wasn't glowering."

"You certainly weren't being too encouraging."

"Yeah? At least I wasn't leering."

"And I was?"

"When aren't you? Every woman we meet, it's the
same story."

"I don't leer."

They started up the stairs, both very aware of having
given Crystal enough time to reach the safety of her
room, both well aware that bickering covered concern
there seemed to be no way to express. They'd seen
fear enough to know it, even on a wizard's face.

"Lady?" Ivan slid out from behind the tree and
moved tentatively forward. "I. I Just wanted ta say
good-bye."

From somewhere. Crystal found a smile for him.
She'd slipped through the village unnoticed—those not
at the mines were blind behind the heavy felt pads that
covered the windows, blocldng the winter drafts—and
wondered how he knew she'd take this path. Known
in advance, she realized. He'd been waiting for her to

arrive.

" 'Twas easy," he told her when she asked. "You
wouldn't want ta pass the mines, not after . . ."He
colored and continued, leaving the sentence hanging.
"And I heard you tell Nad that you were headin' north
when you stopped. If you were still goin' north, well,"
he shrugged, the motion almost buried under his heavy

58 TanyaHuff

furs, "unless you changed ta a bird, this is the way
you had ta come."

They both turned and looked down the only nego-
tiable way up the cliffs that shielded the village from
the furies of the north wind.

"And if I had turned to a bird?"

Ivan smiled. "Then I'd seen that," he said simply,
"and have waved." His eyes dropped to snowy boot
toes. "But I'm glad you didn't," he added.

"I am too," Crystal told him, and meant it. In the
small pouch that held the few things she treasured—a
birch leaf, withered and brown, a strand of her moth-
er's hair, a smooth gray stone from Riven Pass—was
Ivan's wild rose still, and always, blooming- She sud-
denly wanted to give him something that would mean
as much to him, regardless of what the power use
might open within her.

The heavy clothes she wore were more for com-
fonnity than necessity and although every breath hung
in a frosty cloud and the sky had the brittle clarity that
only comes with bitter cold, her hands and head were
bare. She pulled free two long, silver hairs and, brows
drawn down in concentration, braided them into a ring.

"Give me your hand."

Ivan obediently removed his mitten and extended his
arm.

Crystal slipped the ring on his smallest finger. It fit
perfectly.

Speechless, Ivan stared at his hand like he'd never
seen it before. Then he gasped as he took a closer look
at the ring. From an arm's length, it appeared no more
than a thin silver band such as anyone might wear, but
up close the solid metal became again the intricate
weaving of two of the wizard's long silver hairs.

"I, I don't know what ta say," he managed at last.

"Well," Crystal gently slipped the mitt back on his
hand as he seemed incapable of doing it himself, "you
came to say good-bye."

The youth nodded and bit his lip. "Good-bye,
Lady." He took courage from the warm feel of the

THE LAST WIZARD 59

ring about his finger and met her eyes. "I hope you
find what you're lookin* for.'*

When he came up out of the emerald glow that had
enveloped him, he was alone on the cliff top and his
were the only tracks that marked the snow. He slid his
thumb inside the larger part of his mitten and touched
the ring. It was a beautiful gift but not the greatest the
wizard had given him, for before he'd lost himself in
her power he'd seen tears glisten in her eyes and he
still felt the soft pressure of her silent good-bye.

Suddenly, he grinned and threw himself down the
steep trail back to the village, bounding and leaping
like a crazed mountain goat, his whoops echoing back
from the cliff face and filling the valley with sound.

The last piece of equipment lashed tight to the sled,
Raulin straightened and stared to the north. They'd
follow the path young Ivan said she*d taken only to the
top of the cliff and then swing west. He sighed and his
breath laid a patina of frost on his mustache.

Jago stepped out of the Nugget, pulling on his mit-
tens, and followed the direction of his brother's gaze.
He couldn't help but be glad they were going on alone.
Breaching a wizard's tower with another wizard in tow
struck him as one wizard too many. Probably two too
many, but he hadn't been able to convince Raulin of
that and going along had seemed the answer. Besides,
if they did win through . . .

"Jago?"
"What?" He slapped his pockets until he found his

snow goggles and slipped them on.

"I wasn't leering, was I?"

"Afraid you scared her away?"

Raulin turned to face the younger man, his expres-
sion hard to read. "Yes," he said simply.

Jago shook his head. "No," he put as much con-
viction in his voice as he could, "you weren't leering.
You didn't scare her away." He shrugged. "If one of
us scared her, it was me. She knew, in spite of every-

60 TanyaHuff

thing, that I didn't completely trust her. But I think
she had her own reasons for running."

"Yeah. Me too. Did you pay the innkeeper?"

"Of course." Jago went to his place behind the sled
and got a firm grip on the pushing bar while Raulin
slipped the leather traces over his shoulders. "I gave
her the brindle pelt."

"You what?" Forgetting he was now held to the
sled, Raulin turned so quickly he almost threw himself
to the ground.

"Why waste our coin?" Jago asked practically. "We
had no time to have it tanned and it was beginning to
go gamy."

"If I'd known you were going to throw that much
payment at her," Raulin growled straightening him-
self out, "I'd have asked for another bed."

"I don't know what you're complaining about,"
Jago muttered, rocking the sled from side to side to
break the runners free. "You're the one who snores."

"I don't snore!" Raulin threw his weight against the
harness and the sled jerked forward, cutting the start
of the path shown on the ancient map in the snow.

The great white owl drifted silently on a breeze, the
tip of each wing barely sculling to keep it aloft. Its
shadow kept pace, a sharp edged silhouette running
along the moon silvered snow. Suddenly, with pow-
erful beats of huge wings, it dove for the ground, tal-
ons extended.

Had the hare frozen it might have lived, for owls
hunt by,sound more than sight, but it panicked and
fled, kicking up a plume of snow that clearly marked
its position. The shadow reached it first. Frantically,
it twisted and spun and died as the talons closed and
the weight of the owl drove it into the ground and
snapped its back with a single clear crack.

The owl shook itself free of snow and bent its head
to feed.

Perhaps the bird's bad eyesight explained why it
continued to eat. apparently unaware of the man who

THE LAST WIZARD 61

stood less than a wingspan away, observing it with
distaste. Perhaps.

"How,** Lord Death asked with a shudder, "can
you eat raw rabbit in the middle of the night?"

The owl clicked its beak in Lord Death's direction
but made no other answer, save to eat a bit more raw
rabbit. Not until its meal had been reduced to a patch
of blood on the snow did it turn, blink great green
eyes, and change.

"It could be worse," Crystal told him, spinning
herself new clothes made of snow and moonlight—the
cloak she clasped round her shoulders was red.
"Compared to some, owls have fairly civilized eating
habits."

"You realize that with no time to digest you have a
stomach full of . . ."

"I realize."

"And?"

"I try not to think about it.*' She smiled. "I'm glad
to see you."

Lord Death smiled back; he couldn't help it. He
hoped she never discovered how much a slave to her
smile he was. Except for the times he hoped she would
discover it, and therefore smile more often.

Occasionally—this moment—Crystal wished she
could trust the expressions on Lord Death's face. Did
it mean anything when he smiled at her in that way,
his eyes soft and questioning? Or did it merely mean
that one of mortalkind had died wearing that expres-
sion?

They walked in silence for a time and then both
began to speak at once-
Crystal laughed and waved a regal hand. "You first,

milord."

"I merely wondered why you continue to travel
alone." He'd put some effort into choosing the phras-
ing and it had, he thought, just the right touch of cu-
riosity mixed with polite interest. Enough to get an
answer but not to give away how much the answer

62 Tanya Huff

meant. He wished he knew why the answer meant so
much.

"There was ... I mean, I ..." She sputtered into
silence and came to a halt.

Momentum moved Lord Death a farther pace or two,
then he stopped, turned, and studied the wizard's face.
"What are you afraid of," he asked, recognizing her
expression. His voice grew cold. "What did he do to
you?"

Puzzlement replaced fear for an instant then reali-
zation replaced that. "He didn't do anything." Crystal
wondered what Lord Death had thought to turn his
cheeks so red.

"Then what?"

Should she tell him what she suspected was happen-
ing? That the threads of power that made her what she
was were one by one coming untied. He couldn't help.
But then no one could and didn't friends tell each other
what troubled them? Still, they weren't the usual
friends, not the last surviving wizard and the Mother's
one true son. Or should she just make something up
to satisfy him?

"I can't tell you," she said at last, gifting him at
least with no lie.

His voice deepened to a growl. "Why not?"

Helplessly she spread her hands. Why didn't she
want Lord Death to know she was, perhaps literally,
going to pieces? Why did it matter so much that she
not shatter the image she knew he held of the perfect
Crystal?

"Could you tell him?"

"Him? RauUn?" Strange question. She considered
it. She hadn't told him, but could she? Raulin held no
image of her the news could break and their friendship
hadn't had the chance to develop to where what he
thought of her mattered. "Yes," she said thoughtfully,
"I could tell Raulin ..."

Lord Death's face nickered through several expres-
sions and ended up wearing none at all. "Oh." he
said. And vanished.

THE LAST WIZARD 63

Crystal stared at the place Lord Death had stood,
her hand half raised to pull him back. "He wanted me
involved in mortal lives again," she told the wind.
"How could I betray him when I answered the ques-
tion he asked?" she demanded of the shadows. "I
never knew he carried mortal feelings," she confessed
to the moonlight and opened her mind to call him
back.

Across the meadow a tree burst into flame as the
presences in her mind surged out of the place where
the shields had penned them and grabbed for her
power. Crystal screamed and dropped to her knees as
burning hands beat at the inside of her skull. Below
her, the snow hissed and melted. Voices howled and
voices shrieked and voices screamed at other voices,
but outside Crystal's head the night continued quiet
and serene save for the one tree consumed in a tower
of orange and gold.

Crystal fett her body rise, the movements small and
sharp, directed by an unskilled puppeteer, or by one
whose efforts were hindered by another fouling the
strings. She staggered, almost fell and felt her feet
jerked back beneath her. One voice, its cadences the
hiss and crackle of the dying tree, shouted defiance.

"I will have her!"

"No," purred another equally heated but infinitely
more controlled. "Mine, for I was the key. "

Arms flailing. Crystal lurched first one way then the
other, every two or three steps leaving a steaming hole
in the snow. Her clothes, power created, dissolved,
leaving her wearing only the pouch of memories on a
leather belt around her waist and a blue-green opai,
hanging from a silver chain about her neck. She felt
the cold and then she didn't and then the pain was too
intense for her to tell.

Then a third voice moved from the tumult to the
forefront of her mind and the burning within became
almost bearable. Her legs steadied and lengthened into
a runner's stride.

With her fists clenched so tightly the nails cut half

64 TanyaHuff

moons into her palms. Crystal clutched at the shards
of her power and tried to force her shields back into
place. Nothing remained to force; the shields had been
obliterated and the voices fought over the ruins. When
she tried instead to regain control of her body, some-
thing slammed her against a tree with enough violence
to have her cry out in purely physical pain. Muscles
and joints protested as the voices battled among them-
selves, twisting her from side to side. When the run-
ning began again, she let it.

Through the forest, across a small meadow, up a
rocky cliff face and down an impossible trail, all done
at close to full speed, the third voice fighting off the
others while directing Crystal's feet. In shattered bits
and pieces. Crystal felt the calm that had cushioned
her while her hands repaired the Nugget's kitchen
pump.

A small building appeared at the edge of her vision,
her body changed direction slightly and ran toward it.

"No!" howled a voice.

The leg just lifted off the ground spasmed and when
it came forward again, refused to bear her weight.
Crystal pitched forward, rolling at the last second to
avoid slamming her face into a granite outcropping.
Her body wracked with convulsions, she fed what lit-
tle power she held to the third voice. She had to get
to that building—she didn't know why, but its call
nearly drowned out the chaos—and the third voice
seemed also to be trying to get her there.

The convulsions eased and the puppeteer pulled her
to her knees, then her feet, then she was running again.
The second time she fell, she tasted blood as her teeth
went through her tongue -

The building stood barely two body lengths away,
maybe less.

The convulsions returned and locked her muscles.
She couldn't rise, not even to her knees, so she rolled
through snow and rock and blood and vomit, rolled
to the threshold and slammed up against the door.
With the last of her strength, with the third voice falling

THE LAST WIZARD 65

before the other two, she lifted her arm and rumbled

at the latch.

Her fingers refused to obey so she slapped at the
piece of metal, drove her hand up against it, used the
pain as a focus to keep control of her arm.

The door swung open and she flopped inside. . . .

Silence.

No sound save the soft murmur of the wind in the
trees and the beating of Crystal's own heart.

She dragged herself forward, and with a swollen and
bleeding foot pushed closed the door.

The wood beneath her cheek was cedar and from
the spicy smell masking the stink that she knew had
entered with her, the rest of the building was as well.
A silver square of moonlight marked the floor a hand-
span from her nose. She lay quietly, gathering together
her splintered power, motionless until she held enough
to feel whole again, then slowly, very slowly she pulled
her legs beneath her and pushed herself up until she

sat.

The building was small and square, a door in one
wall, small windows in two others flanked by cup-
boards filled with the supplies a traveler might need.
Opposite the door was a fireplace, and wood stacked
floor to ceiling. At a comfortable distance from the
hearth, sat the cabin's only piece of furniture: a chair.
arms and back intricately carved with leaves and vines,
the whole thing lovingly polished to a satin finish.

The Mother's chair.

The Mother's house.

Small cabins maintained by those who lived in the
Mother's service. Blessed with the Mother's presence.
A place of peace, not only for the mind and spirit but
for the body as well for no weapon could pass the door
and no hand could be lifted in anger within the walls.

Crystal had had no idea such a sanctuary existed
here on Halda's frozen border.

Carefully, she reached within. The bedlam had been
calmed by the Mother's presence although the pieces
that had created it still remained apart. She searched

66 TanyaHuff

among them gently until she touched the presence that
spoke with the third voice. "Thank you,*' she said to
it.

"You're welcome, child," replied the voice. "They
called me Tayja when I had a life of my own. Know
me as your friend.'' And then the presence withdrew,
leaving Crystal to herself, but the calm that came with
it lingered.

Moving gingerly, for she hadn't the power to repair
the damage done. Crystal crawled toward the chair,
wincing as a torn bit of flesh caught on a rough piece
of flooring. She knew she needed to eat and sleep, but
she needed to think even more. When she reached the
chair she sighed, and rested her head where the Moth-
er's lap would be.

Tayja. Goddess of craft and learning.

It was just as she feared.

When the Age of Wizards ended, there were few
powers left in the worid. Out of all the pantheon that
mortals had created to help them understand the Moth-
er's creation and their place within it, only the seven
goddesses remained. In time they caused one last wiz-
ard to be formed, a power to fight an ancient evil, and
into that vessel they poured all that they were.

"And now that the evil is defeated," Crystal real-
ized, her aching head pillowed an abraded arms,
"some at least have no further use for the vessel."

Fire. Zarsheiy. Now she could name the hissing and
howling voice, the first she'd heard, the part of her
that fought the hardest to be free.

"And that is the problem ..." Her eyes began to
close and she sighed again. "They are a part of me
and without them I am not- I wish," she murmured
sleepily, "that just once there'd be an easy answer."

As she drifted to sleep, still leaning against the
Mother's chair, she thought she felt the soft touch of
a sympathetic hand against her cheek.

Four

For two days Crystal did little but eat and sleep, slowly
healing her damaged body as her returning power en-
abled her to do so. On the third day, she allowed the
fire to die down to embers and, sitting with her back
to the Mother's chair, slipped into trance and then deep
within her own mind.

Green, a deep rich summer shade lightening to
springtime as she went deeper still. A tendril of
thought rose up to meet her and she paused, knowing
that in the Mother's house only benevolent forces could
stir.

"Why have you come?" Tayja asked, her tone sharp
though not unkind.

"We need to talk." The wizard concentrated and
the green light fractured into a forest grove, the two
women standing within a circle of silver birch.

The goddess smiled, the white of her teeth star-
tlingly bright against the darkness of her skin.
"Ah . . ." She sank to the velvet grass and stroked a
hand along the blades. "So long . . ." Then her face
grew serious and when she looked up at Crystal it bore
the stamp of the mahogany of which she had been
made. "You are safe enough with me, but do not at-
tempt this with the others. It will only intensify their
struggle to be separate once again."

Crystal nodded and sat, folding her legs beneath her.
The Grove was an image so much a part of her that it
took little power to maintain. "What is happening to
me?" she asked.

"I thought you had discovered it."
67

68 Tanya Huff

*'Well, yes, but ..."

"But you wish me to clarify? Very well." Tayja sat
straighter and cupped her hands before her. "Consider
yourself to be the crystal you are named." As she
spoke a crystal appeared on her palms, rough cut,
multifaceted, and a little smaller than a clenched fist.
"You should be neither surprised nor fearful," she
chided, for the living Crystal had stiffened at the oth-
er's manipulation of her mind. "I am, after all, a part
of you." A green light shone through the stone. "As
you can see, the joinings between the many facets are
obvious and this one more so than the others." She
traced a finger down the line and the portion of the
crystal it delineated began to glow red.

"Zarsheiy?" Crystal guessed.

"Yes. A necessary but unenthusiastic part of your
creation. She has always been unstable and had all our
power not been necessary ..." The goddess
shrugged, a most ungoddesslike gesture, and contin-
ued. "While you were focused there was no prob-
lem." The crystal flared; green light submerging the
red section back into the whole. "But as you lost pur-
pose ..." The green faded and the red glowed
strongly once again. "Zarsheiy began to make her
presence felt until ..." A sharp crack and the red
fragment of crystal broke free. "This weakened the
structure and gave Avreen, who was always closest to
Zarsheiy, ideas of her own." Tayja looked suddenly
amused. "Actually, child, you gave her some ideas
yourself."

Crystal felt her cheeks grow warm as she considered
the aspects Avreen wore- "Raulin?" she asked.

"Raulin," Tayja agreed. "Not in itself a bad thing,
but it strengthened Avreen and when next you used
your power she twisted it, hoping to break free." An-
other facet flared along the edge of the larger stone,
this one a deep flesh pink. "She didn't quite manage
it, but her attempt and Zarsheiy's continuing fight to
wrest control made the matrix increasingly unstable."
The definition of the remaining contact lines intensi-

THE LAST WIZARD 69

fied and each facet began to take on a color of its own,
making the original crystal seem more a puzzle than a
single piece. One, a deep brown, well marbled with
green, became for a moment the dominant color.

Crystal touched the brown portion gently. "You?"

"Me," Tayja confirmed, her expression twisting
slightly in embarrassment. "I found I could work on
my own, and you wanted so badly to fix the pump. I
am sorry though. I had no right." She sighed and
shook her head. "Three nights ago, however, it be-
came fortunate that I had strengthened my will or, if
you wish, the part of your will which is mine.

"When you opened yourself to call Lord Death, you
lowered all barriers and both Zarsheiy and Avreen took
advantage of the opportunity." The red fragment grew
suddenly radiant, the crystal writhed in Tayja's hands.
and the pink fragment lay free as well. "They began
to fight for control of your power. Because I have al-
ways been integrated more fully into your personality,
I can call to my use a greater part of your power than
either of them but in order to do it. I had to take their
path."

Crystal noticed that even when the brown broke free
of the larger mass, much of it remained green.

"With your help, I brought you to this house, where
both of my ambitious sisters lie dormant and no others
can break free to challenge you .'Use this quiet time to
rebuild your shields so that when you leave, as you
must, they will be contained."

Crystal stared into the goddess' hands. The red and
the pink had become colorless. The brown remained
unchanged. Deep within the multihued stone—for four
goddesses had not yet taken up their aspects—she saw
a core of green. She realized that little bit of green
would be all that remained if all the goddesses broke
free and Crystal knew it wasn't enough to sustain a
life.

"What must I do?" she asked, searching Tayja's
face for the answer. "How do I become whole again?"

Tayja spread her hands, the stones vanished, and she

70 TanyuHuff

shook her head. **I do not know. child," she admit-
ted, "but two things I can give you. First, as much as
we seem separate we are all a part of you. We gave up
our lives at your creation and now have none of our
own. Second, the whole is always greater than the sum
of its parts." She frowned. "Not a great deal of help.
is it?" The goddess clasped Crystal's hands for a mo-
ment. "Now you know me, you better know one part
of you and there is always strength in that."

The Mother's house was cold when Crystal returned
to it. the embers she had left, mostly ash. Carefully,
she rebuilt the fire using only mortal skills. Not until
it roared red and gold, and heat began to rise again,
did she consider her meeting with the goddess.

"I suppose." she said to the Mother's chair,
thoughtfully nibbling on a handful of raisins, "that if
Tayja truly is a part of me and / don't know what to
do then she can't. I do know I can't go on like this."
Not only for her own sake but for the sake of the world
as well. The ancient wizards had refused to control
their appetites; her lack was less a matter of choice,
but the results were likely to be the same if any one
of the goddesses gained control—death and destruc-
tion. She twisted a strand of hair about her fingers and
frowned. As much as she disliked the idea, the cen-
taurs seemed to be the only solution. Maybe they knew
something that could help.

Our knowledge, C'Tal had often said, begins with
the Mother's creation of this world and we have con-
stantly added to it ever since. This aside, we do, how-
ever, prefer you to work out your difficulties yourself.
That is why we taught you to think.

Crystal sighed. *0h, be quiet." she murmured at
me memory and it obediently stilled.

She spent the rest of the day tidying the small cabin
and restocking the woodpile. The night she spent in
meditation, rebuilding her shields around the god-
desses, using the knowledge Tayja had given her to
anchor them securely. In the morning, in clothing
made of cedar and woodsmoke, she closed the door

THE LAST WIZARD 71

of the Mother's house firmly behind her and headed
west.

As she walked, her power-shod feet barely dimpling
the snow, her thoughts turned back past her recent
breakdown to Lord Death and his sudden departure.
Going over their conversation once again, she was
forced to conclude his actions most closely resembled
those of a jealous man.

"Which," she pointed out to a curious chickadee
watching from a juniper bush, "is ridiculous. Lord
Death is ... well. Lord Death." He isn't a man."

As she continued walking, she didn't see the small
bird's panicked flight nor the evergreen wither and
die.

Crystal had not been celibate in the twelve years
since she'd defeated Kraydak, but men who could deal
with all she was were few and far between. She re-
membered Raulin's solution and smiled; in his desire
to deal with the woman he merely acknowledged the
wizard and for him that was enough. She suspected
Jago would not have settled for anything so simple.

Deep below the shields, Avreen stirred.

Startled, Crystal shifted her thoughts away from the
brothers, a little embarrassed they affected her so
strongly that even such gentle memories could cause
the goddess of lust to rise. She almost conceded that,
if Lord Death was indeed capable of jealousy, perhaps
he had cause. She shied away from the thought for that
would mean he had reason and somehow that fright-
ened her more than all seven goddesses.

Puzzling over her reaction to the Mother's son—and
his to her and hers to that—Crystal walked around a
granite outcropping and nearly died. A high-pitched
and undulating howl echoed off the mountains and
shattered the silence into a thousand sharp edged
pieces. Blind panic threw her back as a massive brown
and black body slammed through the space where she
had been. Her heart in her throat, she rolled and
looked up, dashing the snow from her face.

Brindle. A young male, barely five feet high at the

72 TanyaHuff

shoulder. Small black eyes, well shaded beneath their
protruding brow-ridge, glared down at her. His angry
snorts made great gouts of steam in the frigid air.
Muscles tensed and, silently this time, he charged.

Crystal just barely managed to avoid the strike. The
soft whisper of fur against her cheek as she twisted to
safety gave her an indication of the animal's speed.
Had he been older and more practiced at judging dis-
tance, even the agility that came of Crystal's mythic
heritage might not have been enough.

As his prey disappeared again, the brindle checked
his lunge almost in midair, flipped his heavy body
about with a fluid grace, and, growling in irritation,
attacked once more.

Crystal caught hold of her power and slapped a por-
tion at thebrindle's nose.

He stopped dead, his eyes narrowed, and his upper
lip drew back to show a mouth full of needle sharp
teeth.

Trying to calm her breathing. Crystal began to back
cautiously away. The brindle snarled a warning and
she decided it was safest to stay right where she was.
Slowly, so as not to provoke a response from the
watching animal, she sat on a bit of windswept rock
and wondered what to do.

She remembered hearing that bundles never aban-
doned their chosen prey; tracking it for days across
hundreds of miles, worrying at its heels, waiting until
a chance presented itself and then moving in for the
kill.

Had it been night she could've turned into the owl
and flown—not even brindles could track a trail
through the air—but she daren't risk the bird's sensi-
tive eyes to the glare of winter sunlight.

Raulin had killed the brindle that attacked Jago with
only a dagger. Crystal studied this brindle, much as it
studied her, made note of the claws, each a dagger's
length and cruelly curved, and realized just what that
meant. She measured its bulk against her memory of
Raulin. This brindle "could make four or five of the

THE LAST WIZARD 73

man and the beast that had attacked the brothers had
been larger still. In her mind's eye she saw him, cling-
ing to the thick fur at the animal's throat, driving the
dagger into the eye again and again, desperation lend-
ing strength to the blows until finally one pierced the
brain. She shuddered.

She couldn't use enough power to flip the brindle
away, as she had Raulin and Jago at the inn, for that
would weaken her shields and leave her helpless
against Zarsheiy and Avreen. She doubted she could
count on Tayja saving her again. If she had a choice,
she preferred to face the brindle.

They were said to be intelligent, cunning, and fe-
rocious; vulnerable only when feeding, for their glut-
tony made them careless. They did not peacefully
coexist with any other living creatures and barely tol-
erated each other. Up to a dozen might live scattered
throughout a clan range which was ruled absolutely by
the oldest female, and if male brindles were thought
to be bad tempered . . .

Crystal smiled.

The brindle howled at this display of fangs, puny
through they were, then jerked what was to be his kill-
ing charge to a stop before it actually got moving.
Where heartbeats before his prey had waited, an old
scarred female, survivor of many matings, now reared
and raked the sky with her claws.

Crystal opened her brindle mouth and roared.

The young male spared an instant to wonder what
had gone wrong, then instinct took over and he ran.

The female brindle dwindled back to human form
and the wizard grinned. A half grown male simply did
not argue with a matriarch, no matter how unexpect-
edly she appeared. He would not stop running until he
was miles away. From deep within, she felt the touch
of seven smiles as the goddesses approved, for once
in complete agreement, and just for an instant she
knew how it would feel when she was whole once

more.

?

74 TanyaHuff

Crystal's head snapped up and to the northwest. The
touch came again.
.?

Her power pulsed in response. The touch changed.
Called.

/

Almost involuntarily, she stepped toward it. Some-
thing in the mountains, something with power, needed
her help. She crossed the snow marked by the bundle's
prints and walked into the fresh white beyond before
she dug in her heels and asked the obvious question.

What called? Or who?

She knew the touch of all the Mother's Eldest, and
this was none of them. She knew the sacred places
where the Mother's power resided most strongly, and
none were in these mountains. It had the feel of wiz-
ardy. But the ancient ones were long dead and even
Kraydak, the one survivor from that earlier age, had
joined them a dozen years ago.

Could she have triggered the relic Jago and RauUn
searched for? She wished she'd asked for a look at
their map.

//

"All right." She picked up the thread of the call.
"You needn't shout."

She checked her shields. They remained strong, for
the illusion had taken little power. The centaurs would
always be available for questioning, but this summons
could end as abruptly as it began and Crystal needed
to know where it came from. The goddesses would
have to wait. She only hoped they would,

Throughout the day, as the mountain terrain grew
bleaker, the call grew stronger. At sunset, she walked
between towering peaks at the edge of the tree line.
With moonrise, she flowed into her owl form and took
to the air. It made no difference to the call, it stretched
before her, a pathway of power, easy to follow.

Too easy? she wondered and took a moment to con-
sider the idea that she might be moving into a trap. If

THE LAST WIZARD 75

the call did come from an ancient relic, this was a very
real possibility. The wizards of old had thought as lit-
tle of each other as they did of the worid at large.

But if the call came from something else, if there
was a power out there that could speak to hers, surely
that was worth the risk? Not the promise perhaps, but
the suggestion of companionship and perhaps help.

Yes, she decided, it was.

When her wings began to tire, she found shelter of
a sort between two boulders, and, taking back her
woman shape, wrapped herself in power and slept for
the remainder of the night.

In the morning, with her stomach making imperious
demands. Crystal glared around at the rock and snow
and cursed herself for not having taken the time to
hunt the night before.

/

She could safely feed off her power for a little time;

the peak was no more than half a day away, if she
reached it and the call came from farther on she would
go back and hunt before continuing.

At midmoming she found a cave. The call came
from within.

Long and narrow and twice the height of the wizard
who stood just inside its mouth, the cave sloped down-
ward into the mountain. It seemed a natural fissure,
rough walled and rubble strewn, but when Crystal laid
long fingers against the wall, the power that had
formed it in the distant past still echoed faintly in the
stone. So the call came from the ancient ones after all.
For a long moment she stayed half in, half out of the
cave, disappointment warring with curiosity. Then she
sighed and stepped forward as curiosity won.

When a sharply angled turn cut off the light spilling
in through the cave mouth, patches of lichen dappling
the rock began to faintly glow silver-gray, keeping the
path from total darkness.

Suddenly, the cave narrowed to a vertical slash lead-
ing into the mountain's heart. To follow the call. Crys-
tal would have to slide sideways, her movements

76 TanyaHuff

confined on either side by the mountain itself. If there
was a trap this would be the place to set it. She paused
and pushed her hair away from her face. Was curiosity
reason enough to attempt such a passage? The call
continued to tug at her power and, moistening dry lips,
she pushed into the crack.

"As long as I*ve come this far . . .'*

The weight of the mountain flattened her voice,
making it small and toneless.

Forty sidling footsteps later, she realized the lichen
patches no longer provided the only light. A few steps
farther and it had lightened quite definitely to gray.
Another step, a struggle around a comer that seemed
to clutch at her chest and hips, and the end of the
passage was in sight; a pinkish-gray ribbon of light.
Heartened, she moved as quickly as she could toward
it.

Five steps away, four, and a body blocked her view
of the cavern beyond. Lord Death stood where the pas-
sage widened, his hands outstretched toward her, his
features nickering through a multitude of faces each
wearing an identical expression of horror.

Was this a warning. Crystal wondered, biting back
a startled shriek. Why did Lord Death block her path
and why didn't he speak?

And then he did.

"Free my people," he pleaded and vanished from
her way.

As puzzled by his cryptic utterance as by his ap-
pearance, Crystal hesitantly advanced.

The cavern felt enormous after the confinment of the
passage, but the opposite wall was actually no more
than fifteen feet away. Before she could scan the rest
of area, her attention was snagged by the pattern in
the stone of the far wall- Set into it were hundreds,
maybe thousands, of bones.

"I see," piped up a shrill voice, "that you admire
my map."

Crouched in the comer where the wall of bones
touched one of mere rock, was a twisted and mis-

THE LAST WIZARD 77

shapen parody of a man. Its back was humped so high
its head appeared to come from the middle of its chest,
its arms were too long, its legs too short, and mottled
gray skin fell about it in wrinkled folds. Its eyes were
black from lid to lid, two vertical slashes served it for
a nose, and the mouth that split its face from ear to
ear was as empty of teeth as a frog's.

Crystal felt her jaw drop as once again the power
that had led her here touched her own. There could be
no mistaking the source, not so close. This was what
had called her. She stumbled back a step.

"Who?" she managed. "What?"

"It is called a demon," said Lord Death, now
standing at her side, lives still playing across his face,
"and it is quite mad."

"I am sane enough when I choose," the demon pro-
tested, clambering to its feet. "Madness is my es-
cape."

"You're trapped here?" Crystal asked, trying to
make some sense of what was going on.

The demon threw wide its arms. "I am imprisoned
here!'* it shrieked. It flung itself forward to land on
its knees at Crystal's feet. "I beg of you, free me."

It smelled of cinnamon, sharp but not unpleasant.

"You have the power. You answered my call. Now
you have seen me in my misery. You cannot leave me
here."

Crystal glanced behind her. The narrow entrance to
the tunnel was unbarred. She reached out with power.
Red and black bands wrapped around and through me
stone cocooning the cavern even to the small spring in
one comer. Identical bands but black and red co-
cooned the demon. It was the oldest power she had
ever felt.

"How long have you been here?"

"Eternity," sniffed the demon.

"Six thousand years," said Lord Death softly. "The
wizard Aryalan bound it just to prove she could. Then
she left it here."

"Left me," agreed the demon. "Bound me and for-

78 TanyaHuff

got me/* It turned from Crystal, crawled to the wall
of bone, and began rubbing up against it.

The bones were not six thousand years old. Al-
though many were yellowish gray with age, many more
were still ivory.

The demon chuckled at Crystal's expression. "You
like my map?" it asked. "He would not free me when
I called to him, but he sent me things to do."

"Who did?"

"The sunny gold one. With eyes like bits of sky."

"Kraydak?"

Gray shoulders shrugged. "He never said his name.
When there were two powers in the world he was one.
Now there is only you." Its eyes narrowed. "And I
do not want more man-things sent. I have finished my
map."

It could have only been Kraydak, Crystal realized,
called as she had been. He had refused to free the
demon and later amused himself by sending mortals
to it and to their deaths.

Rauiin and Jago had gotten their map from Kray-
dak's city governor.

Desperately, Crystal searched the demon's prison for
signs of a fresh kill. Even considering the three days
she'd spent in the Mother's house, they could not have
been that far ahead of her.

There were no bones except those in the wall. No
blood, wet or dry. No bits of ...

She jumped as me demon took her hand and pulled
her forward. Its grasp was cool and dry.

"The bargain," it whispered to her, "was with the
other. But if you free me, you may have the map in-
stead."

"He said he would free you if you made him the
map?'*

"Yes, yes, he did."

"He lied." No guess but a surety. Kraydak always
lied when he could.

The demon began to cry. "I know. Everyone lies to
me. But it was all I had to offer him."

THE LAST WIZARD 79

"What does the map show?"

"The way to her hole." It polished a bit of bone
with a flap of skin. "To the Binding One's hidden
place."

The way to Aryalan's tower. Kraydak had offered the
demon freedom in exchange for the way to Aryalan*s
tower. He must have hoped to plunder it but had died
before he got the chance.

Crystal reached out and lightly touched the wall.

DEATH!

She jerked her hand away and slowly turned to face
the one the voices summoned.

"That which binds the demon in," Lord Death ex-
plained, "binds these mortal lives as well. I cannot
take my children home. Free him. Crystal, and free
them also."

She moved carefully away from the wall and looked
down at the demon as sternly as she was able. "If I
free you, what will you do?"

"Do?" Its mouth worked for a moment but no sound
came out. "Do?" it repeated at last. "I shall go home.
Go home. HOME!*' The last word rose to a howl, a
scream of anguish that ran up and down Crystal's spine
with razor edges. The sound filled the cavern,
thrummed within the rock, and was Joined by the cries
of the multitude in the wall.

The demon and those trapped with it shrieked out
the agony of their long imprisonment.

Deep within Crystal's mind, darkness stirred and
wakened. It surged outward, a roaring tide that
slammed through shields and over defenses. Nasha-
wryn answered the demon's call. Crystal added her
scream to the others as the eldest goddess broke free
within her.

Five

Blackness.

Screaming terror.

Fire in the darkness that gave no light.

A hundred knives that cut and twisted.

A thousand years of pain.

Driven deep within her own mind by the darkness
and the fear, Crystal searched desperately for the core
of self that TayJa had shown her. If it still existed, it
lay beyond her reach- Nashawryn held sway over all.

Here, the nightmares that had dimmed her child-
hood.

There, the paralyzing dread of the young adult.

All about her the horror of the woman; madness,
the shattering of her soul into a myriad of pieces that
could never be joined again, each brittle shard dying
cut off from the others.

A hundred voices wept and hers was more than one
of them.

The noise pushed her this way and that. adding bits
of her to the cacophony every time she tried to resist,
moving her closer and closer to the precipice where
fear and reality became one and Nashawryn would be
all that remained.

And then . . . and then she cried alone.

The blackness trembled.

Crystal forced herself to be still.

Beyond the curtain, something called.

Her nose twitched as she smelled the soft leather of
her father's jerkin. Her fingers curved as they held the
80

THE LAST WIZARD 81

silken masses of her mother's hair. She rested for a
moment in the memory of their arms.

Then she stepped forward.

The blackness tore.

She gathered close the piece of self she had almost
forgotten and opened her eyes.

Raulin was just forcing himself around a tight cor-
ner in the passage when the howling began. The sound
echoed alarmingly within the corridor of rock. He
winced, instinctively jerked his head away, and swore
as the back of his skull slammed against the rough
stone. He felt Jago's hand close on his shoulder, but
any words were lost as a woman's screams began to
weave a high-pitched descant of terror throughout the
continuing howl.

Raulin ripped free of the mountain's grasp, leaving
cloth and bits of skin behind, and flung himself down
the last few feet of passage and into the cavem.

Crystal. He'd known it from the moment me screams
began, though he didn't know how. Her head was
thrown back, the lovely white column of her throat
was ridged with strain, her eyes were clenched shut,
her hands were fists that beat the air, and her mouth
stretched wide to let the sound escape.

He wasn't quite in time to catch her when she crum-
pled to the ground but reached her side a second later,
lifting her thrashing head and shoulders up off the rock
and onto his lap. With one arm cradled protectively
around her, for her constant movement threatened to
throw her free, he reached up with the other and rum-
bled with the fastenings on his jacket. Her clothing
had disappeared when she fell and she needed protec-
tion from more than just the winter air. Abrasions,
slowly oozing red, already marked the satin skin. He
wished he still wore his huge fur overcoat—removed
before attempting the narrow passage—for that was
more the kind of protection she needed.

The jacket was tight and hard to manage one-
handed, harder yet when arms were full of a beautiful,

82 TanyaHuff

naked woman who would not hold still, but Raulin
managed to drag himself out of it and get the heavy
fabric wrapped at least partially around Crystal's body.

On some level, his mind reacted to her desirability.
He was only mortal man, after all. But those feelings
were deeply buried and he held her as he would have
held Jago in the same circumstances.

Her screams had died to whimpers. A trickle of
blood, where teeth had scored her lip, trailed across
her cheek. The jacket held her arms confined, for
which Raulin gave thanks as his ears still rang from
the force of one random blow. She kept trying to draw
her knees up, to curl into a ball, to hide from whatever
had done this.

Every time her knees came up, Raulin pushed them
back. She was the stronger, he the more determined,
finding what he needed to stop her in the memory of
his father who had one day given up, curled into a ball,
and while his wife and young sons watched, had died.
He murmured soothing things to her, nonsense, bits
of lullabies, anything to quiet her, to reach her.

And the howling that had started it all, went on and
on.

He turned his head, saw the source, without really
registering what he saw, and snapped "Shut up!" at
the misshapen thing.

It did.

Now the only screams were Crystal's.

"Crystal?" He caught a flailing hand that had fought
out of the jacket to freedom. "Crystal, it's Raulin. I
have you. You're safe."

Suddenly she stilled; her breathing hoarse and la-
bored, her body trembling with tension.

"That's it," he whispered and stroked her forehead
with his cheek for both his hands were full. "Now
come back. Come back. Crystal, I have you."

Her nose wrinkled and the tension went out of the
free hand as the fingers curved around something he
couldn't see.

"Crystal?"

THE LAST WIZARD 83

She sighed, the warm weight of her settled onto his
lap, and she opened her eyes.

The how! of loneliness hit Jago like a solid blow.
He staggered and would have fallen had the mountain
not held him so securely. He clutched at his brother's
shoulder, seeking reassurance in that touch, reassur-
ance that the emotions ripping through his head weren't
his. When the thousand voices added their pain and
the howl became a choir, his hands went to his ears.
He saw Raulin throw himself forward and disappear
out of the passage. The sound held him pinned and he
could not follow. He was left alone with the lament.

Alone.

An eternity alone.

He ground his palms against his head. It made little
difference.

Free us. Free us. Free us.

Pear.

The last was a single call, a silver thread running
through the tumult. Jago inched himself forward. It
was not the best of guides, but it was all he had to
follow.

He squeezed around the tight comer, repeating over
and over, "I will get to Raulin," using his brother's
name as a talisman against the loneliness. And the
fear.

When the passage widened and the mountain no
longer supported him, he took only a single step be-
fore the howling beat him to his knees.

It went on and on and on and Jago felt an answering
scream rising up within him to join it.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, it stopped, and
only the silver thread of fear remained.

Crystal. He'd carried a bit of her life and could not
mistake it-
He stood, and with one hand against the rock for
support—his body still trembled in reaction—he made
his way out of the passage and into the cavern.

Raulin knelt in the middle of the floor, his jacket off

84 TaayaHuff

and wrapped about the wizard who twisted in his
grasp. A vaguely man-shaped thing crouched at the
junction of two walls, one the bare bones of the moun-
tain the other inlaid with a fantastic pattern of ... of
bone.

"Crystal?"

The screams had died to whimpers and he could
hear his brother cleariy.

"Crystal, it's Raulin. I have you. You're safe."

And behind him Jago heard a moan; a soft sound,
pain filled.

Slowly, he turned.

An auburn haired man stood staring down at Raulin
and Crystal, shoulders slumped in despair. Feeling
Jago's gaze, he lifted his head. Surprise replaced the
pain HI the amber eyes so quickly Jago could not be
sure he'd even seen it. Then the despair was gone as
well and the new stance denied that it had ever existed.
The man smiled slightly.

"Do you not know me, Jago?" he asked. "We were
very close once."

Jago felt his mouth move. It took him a few seconds
to manage an audible sound and even then the roar of
blood in his ears threatened to drown it out. "Lord
Death."

Lord Death inclined his head. "Our previous en-
counter seems to have given you something few mor-
tals enjoy, the pleasure of my company."

There was nothing Jago could reply, so he inclined
his head in turn.

Lord Death waved an aristocratic hand toward the
center of the cavern. "Your brother is very clever,"
he said and to Jago's ears the words came out with an
edge. "He appeals to her humanity. Gives her some-
thing with which to fight the fear." The Mother's son
grimaced and Jago shuddered, the expression was such
a strange mix of sorrow and anger. "It is lucky you
arrived when you did.'*

Lucky. Jago heard the contradiction between the
voice and the words. If Raulin, however he did it,

THE LAST WIZARD 85

pulled Crystal up out of the fear, then it was lucky
they'd arrived at the cavern when they did. Lord Death
had admitted as much but not with pleasure. No, not
with pleasure.

"Crystal?"

Raulin's voice had softened, the tone so different,
that both Jago and Lord Death turned.

Lord Death stepped forward, then jerked himself
back.

Crystal sighed and opened her eyes.

Why did father grow that ridiculous mustache?
Crystal wondered as focus returned. Then the face be-
hind the mustache came out of shadow and she smiled
and said weakly, "Raulin."

He returned the smile and stroked damp hair back
from her face. "Welcome back."

"Jago?"

'*Uh . . ." Raulin suddenly realized he had no idea
if Jago had followed him, remained in the passage,
or ... He began to twist but stopped at the familiar
feel of his brother at his back.

"I'm here." Jago kept his voice low, pitched to re-
assure, glancing back over his shoulder as he spoke.
The features of the dead moved across Lord Death's
face and he could get no idea of how the Mother's son
felt. Tread carefully, my brother, he thought as Raulin
shifted Crystal into a more comfortable .position on his
lap, there is more here than even you will be able to
deal with.

"Are you better now?"

Crystal squeaked as Raulin's grip abruptly tight-
ened- The concerned features of the demon poked into
her line of sight.

"You were making a lot of noise,'* it accused.
"Shrieking. Wailing."

"What in Chaos' balls is that?" Raulin demanded,
trying to shield her body with his own.

"It's a demon." Crystal pushed against his arms

86 TanyaHuff

until they relaxed enough to let her breathe- "Ifs
trapped here."

"Is it dangerous?"

"Maybe," the demon said cheerfully.

"Jago!"

Jago, his dagger in his hand, took a step toward the
demon, putting the point of his knife between it and
the two on the floor. "Go on," he commanded, "get
back."

The demon opened wide its lipless mouth and closed
it on the metal.

Startled, Jago snatched the dagger back and stood
staring down at the hilt. A thin wisp of smoke was all
that remained of the blade.

"Cheap," muttered the demon and retreated to the
corner to sulk.

The brothers exchanged incredulous glances, then
looked in unison down at Crystal who had begun to
giggle softly.

"I'm sorry," she sputtered, "only the look on your
faces ..."

The laughter built until her body shook with it and
the sound began to take on a hysterical edge.

"Crystal?" Raulin shook her gently, but she contin-
ued to laugh although tears ran from her eyes and she
trembled uncontrollably. "Crystal!"

Jago dropped to one knee beside them. "Hold her,"
he said.

"I am holding her." He fell silent as Jago took the
wizard's jaw in one hand, turned her head to face him,
and slapped her, hard. Then again.

With a shuddering sob. Crystal buried her face
against Raulin *s chest, and clung. "I'm sorry," she
said again, her voice even weaker than it had been,
but calm. "I don't ..."

"Shh." He stroked her back, murmuring the words
into her hair. "It's all right. Do you want to get up?"

She shook her head and clung tighter.

Raulin met his brother's eyes.

THE LAST WIZARD 87

"Perhaps you'd better go get the packs," he said
softly.

Jago*s eyebrows went up-

Raulin glared. "Don't be stupid," he snarled, his
hands continuing to soothe the woman in his arms.

Jago flushed, touched his brother's shoulder in a
wordless apology, rose, and slipped silently from the
cavern.

They'd left the packs back where the passage had
narrowed so suddenly. Their sled, with the bulk of
their gear and supplies, they'd had to leave a short
distance down the mountain when the way became
more rock than snow and the trail too steep to wrestle
it farther.

Jago studied what had to be moved; the two packs
and both massive fur overcoats plus a pile of assorted
hats, scarves, and mittens. The packs would have to
be moved one at a time, and perhaps emptied to get
them around that tight bit. He rubbed his chin. ab-
sently scratching at the golden stubble, and decided
that since the packs contained no clothes it might be
best if he got the coats through first. He remembered
how little Raulin's jacket covered, added how quickly
comfort could warm, and recalled the expression on
Lord Death's face. Not the despair, the anger that had
followed.

"Definitely the coats." He heaved them up into his
arms and turned to face the narrow passage with grit-
ted teeth. At least he had something to take his mind
off the fear that being underground always evoked.

Dragging some forty pounds of uncooperative fur
through the mountain's heart was among the less en-
joyable things he'd done lately, but when Jago reached
the cavern and saw the way in which the positions of
Raulin and Crystal had subtly shifted while he was
gone, he knew he'd made the right decision. Although
Raulin would not take advantage—he'd deserved Rau-
lin's anger for implying he would—Jago didn't doubt

88 Tanyafiuff

his brother would be willing to cooperate and this was
neither the time nor place.

"Here." The fur flopped like a live thing to the
ground, one arm draping over Crystal's legs. "This'H
do you a lot more good than that little jacket."

"She doesn't get cold," Lord Death pointed out
from his place by the passage.

"Perhaps not," Jago replied without thinking, "but
Raulin does, and he needs his jacket."

Crystal's head snapped up and she stared from Jago
to Lord Death.

Raulin merely stared at his brother. The demon
crouched out of Jago's line of sight and as far as Raulin
was concerned that left Jago talking to empty air.
"What are you babbling about?*'

"You can hear him?" Crystal asked, her arms slid-
ing down from around Raulin's neck.

"Hear who?" Raulin wanted to know.

"And see him?"

"See who?"

The wizard's silver brows dove into a deep vee.
"I've never heard of a mortal being able . . ."

"Able to what?"

Jago sighed. "Why don't you tell him while you
dress," he suggested to Crystal, nudging the far with
a booted foot. "I'll go get the rest of the gear."

The packs, as he suspected, had to be unpacked, for
neither force nor ingenuity could get them around that
last tight corner before the cavern. Rather than reload
everything, and then unload it again six meters away
in order to use it, Jago carried the bits and pieces into
the cavern in armloads. The tableau remained un-
changing from trip to trip.

Crystal, regal now and no less beautiful in the en-
veloping fur, explained in animated detail just what
she suspected had happened when Jago had come so
close to Death.

Raulin listened intently, his eyes never leaving Crys-
tal's face- Jago wondered which motivated Raulin
more, concern for his brother or an inability to look

THE LAST WIZARD 89

away from emerald eyes and ivory skin. The demon
sat silently in its comer, its expression impossible to
read. Lord Death stood just as silently by the rectan-
gular cut that marked the passage and he kept the dead
parading across his face to hide what might otherwise
have been revealed. But his eyes, throughout all their
many permutations, never moved from the two in the
center of the cavern.

Each time he passed the Mother's son, Jago grew
more certain he understood both the earlier pain and
the anger that followed. Survival in the Empire had
consisted for the most part of an intimate knowledge
of the pecking order; a skill that translated in the sur-
vivors into a finely honed ability to judge their fellow
men. To Jago's eyes. Lord Death was deeply, and
hopelessly, in love.

Without really knowing why he did it—to protect his
brother was no more than an admittedly valid ration-
alization—he stopped as he carried in the last armload
of gear and said in a voice not intended to travel far
from where he stood, "Why don't you tell her?"

Lord Death turned and the changing eyes and iden-
tical expressions of terror flowed into the features of
the auburn-haired man whose amber eyes regarded him
coldly. "Tell her what?" he asked in a voice equally
quiet.

"Uh . . ."

"Do not presume, mortal. I am fully capable of
running my own ..." A wry smile twisted the full
Ups. "lamfully capable of running my own . . .life."

^     "Now let me get this straight." Raulin raised a
a   steaming cup of tea to his mouth. "You talk to
Death?"

The four of them, Raulin, Jago, the wizard, and the
demon, sat around a small campstove, the red glow
of the coals providing more of a focus point than ac-
tual warmth. The demon, its captivity explained, sat
quietly and pouted. Crystal had remsed to let it show
off its handiwork, merely informing the brothers that

90 TanyaHuff

the wall contained the remains of the demon's previous
visitors, "and could we please leave it at that/' Then
she'd smacked its fingers away from the fire. It pro-
jected an air of injured innocence which no one paid
any attention to.

Jago swallowed a mouthful of hot liquid and nod-
ded.

"And he talks to you?"

Jago nodded again.

"And he's a regular guy? You can see him, touch . . ."

"No," Crystal interupted, a little sadly, "you can't
touch him. Nor can he touch you."

"Is he here right now?"

"No." Jago and Crystal spoke together, looked
startled, then exchanged shy smiles. Neither knew
when the Mother's son had left. One moment he'd been
there, the next gone.

Raulin settled his back against the rock wall of the
cavern. "How can you be sure?"

Crystal jerked a thumb over her shoulder at the wall
of bones. "When the dead are present, I can always
see him. Only when there are no dead, can he
choose."

"Why?"

She shrugged and Raulin wished the motion had not
been covered by the heavy fur. "I don't know. That's
just the way it works."

"If he wants you to free the dead, why didn't he
stay?" Jago asked. He remembered the thousand
voices and their plea. He hadn't needed Crystal's ex-
planation to know what they wanted.

"I mink he leaves me to decide without the pressure
of our friendship."

Her voice was troubled, as if she suspected a deeper
meaning in Lord Death's sudden departure.

Jago considered, for a brief instant, telling her him-
self, saying. He loves you, wizard, but he didn't. Just
because the last few weeks of his life had been a bo-
nus, because he really should*ve died after the brindle
attack, it did not mean he wanted to give the rest of

THE LAST WIZARD 91

his life away. So all he said was, "Freeing the dead
frees the demon," as if he recognized that as the cause
of her trouble.

Crystal sighed. "Yes."

"I am harmless!" protested the demon.

All eyes turned to the wall of bone.

"Well, mostly harmless," it whined, "Oh, please
free me. Please ..."

Jago's hand shot out and grabbed the demon's arm.
"Do not howl," he snarled.

The demon looked piqued and easily shook itself
free. "Wasn't going to."

Raulin listened to his brother and Crystal talk,
sipped his tea, and studied the wall of bones. He
couldn't find it in him to blame the demon for the men
and women who had died to set that pattern, not even
considering that he'd missed being a part of it by only
a few hours. If they'd arrived at the cavern before
Crystal . . .

He was disappointed that the treasure of the ancient
wizard had amounted to nothing more than a strange
creature with an appetite for iron. Then his mind slipped
back to those moments spent holding Crystal in his arms
and he decided the trip hadn't been a total loss. Still,
he touched the leather pouch hanging about his neck,
they'd had such hopes when they first found that map.

Map!

"Hey!" Jago threw himself out of the way as Raulin
leaped up and dashed across the cavern. He twisted
and glared at the older man who was running his fin-
gers along the ridges of bone and muttering under his
breath. "What do you think you're doing?"

"It's a map, Jago!"

"Yes! Yes!" The demon bounded over to its crea-
tion and began patting the wall. '*A map! A map!"

"A map?"

"Yes. Look!" Raulin pointed out a triangular wedge
of bone that ran diagonally up from the floor, cutting
off the lower comer. "This is the mountain range we're
in." He touched another pattern. "This is the canyon

92 TanyaHuff

we followed to get here, before we started to climb."
He slapped the wall where a bit of femur jutted from
the mountains. "This is where we are!"

"Here! Here!" The demon agreed.

Jago slowly stood and stepped over to the map.
"Then these," he said, "are the mountains they call
the Giant's Spine."

"Aptly named," Raulin added, for they were delin-
eated on the wall in vertebrae.

"And this," Jago continued, ignoring him, "must
be the way . . ."

Both brothers looked up to me top left comer of the wall
where a skull looked back. Barely visible on the yellow-
gray bone was scratched the sigil of the bloody hand. •

". . . to Aryalan*s tower," Raulin finished.

"Yes! Yes!" The demon hopped up and down in
excitement, looking even more froglike than it did at
rest. "The Binding One*s hidey hole!" Then it stopped
jumping and added solemnly. "But you mustn't go
there. It's dangerous."

"You should listen to it." Crystal still sat by the tiny
stove, bare legs tucked up under the fur. * 'Aryalan trapped
it, remember. It knows what it*s talking about."

"Aryalan's long dead," Raulin scoffed.

But Jago said softly, "You knew, didn't you? That
this was a map?*'

Crystal nodded.

"And you weren't going to tell us."

She smiled and rubbed her cheek against the soft
furof the collar "No."

"Why not?" Raulin returned to her side and
dropped to one knee to better study her face. "Think
of what we could find there."

Her gaze nicked past him to the wall of bone.
"Think of what you've found here."

Raulin dismissed the cavern, the bones, the demon
with a quick wave. "We're not likely to find its type,"
he nodded at the demon, "inside the wizard's tower."

"There will be other dangerous surprises."

THE LAST WIZARD 93

"And that's why you weren't going to tell us about
the map? I'm not afraid of the unknown."

/ am, she thought, shying away from the dark places
Nashawryn had left when she retreated. lam very afraid
of the unknown. Now. But she kept silent and only
looked from Raulin's gray eyes, alight with a fierce joy,
to Jago's violet ones. "Now you know the path," she
said, "you'll go, won't you, no matter what I say?"

"Yes," Raulin told her.

When she looked to Jago for confirmation he nodded,
although she realized he went not for the adventure, or
even the possibility of wealth, but because his brother did.

Crystal's head went up and her expression firmed.
"I could take it from your minds. I could make you
forget the map existed."

Raulin's head went up as well, his jaw tensed and
his eyes grew stormy. Jago was right, he thought. Wiz-
ards can't be trusted. None of them. His mouth
opened, but Jago spoke first.

"You won't," he said.

"How do you know?" She turned the green of her
eyes on him and released enough power so they began
to glow. Let Nashawryn get loose again; she 'II bum it
from their minds fast enough.

Jago smiled, a little sadly. "Because I know you."

Crystal sat silent, aghast at what she'd thought- Na-
shawryn must never get loose again. How could she
think . . . and then she felt the laughter and realized
she hadn't. Zarsheiy. Stirring up what trouble she
could. "I don't even know myself," she murmured.

"Then take my word for it."

Raulin was ashamed at his sudden anger and at the same
time mildly amused that he and Jago seemed for an instant
to have reversed opinions. He reached out and ran a strand
of silver hair between his fingers. It felt cool and soft and
finer than silk. "Come with us," he said.

"You asked me that before. At the inn. I said no."

"A lot has changed since then. But even if your
answer remains no, we are still going on."

"Yes."

94 TanyaHuff

"Yes, you'll come with us, or yes, you know we'll
go on anyway."

Crystal could spread herself on the wind and reach
Aryalan's tower in hours. Deal with it and destroy it
before the brothers even found the trail. But that way
moved too close to oblivion even when all was in bal-
ance. Now she dared not risk it. She could, as the owl,
still beat them to the tower by days. Deal with it and
destroy it while they struggled over the mountains. But
although the owl had nothing the goddesses could grasp
and use, she would have to exist on power and all her
power must be used to remain whole. Or what stood
for whole these days. And besides, she was lonely.

Lbnely. She held back a sigh as she turned the word
over in her mind. From the moment the centaurs had
taken her from her parents she'd been alone in one way
or another. Why, she wondered, her hand creeping up
to twist in the fur over her heart, did alone suddenly
mean lonely? Perhaps because when she was alone she
no longer fenew the person she was with. Perhaps the
demon had put the word in her mind. Perhaps because
there seemed to be an alternative and friendship had
become, for me first time since she was eleven, a very
real possibility.

"Yes, I'll come with you."

Slowly, Raulin smiled, hearing at least part of her
reason for agreeing in her voice.

Jago. who heard the part that Raulin didn't, stepped
forward until he could see Crystal's face over his brother's
shoulder. "What are you afraid of?" he asked softly.

His return unnoticed, Lord Death raised his head to
listen.

Crystal looked down into the depths of the fur-
looking into the depths of herself was out of the ques-
tion—then she sighed, spread her hands, and said
simply: "Me." If she traveled with them and their
lives also were at risk, they deserved to know.

"There were seven goddesses remaining when the
wizards ruled . . .'*

She told diem all of it, what Tayja had told her and

THE LAST WIZARD 95

the background they needed to understand, keeping her
voice as emotionless as she could. It was safer that way.

The brothers sat enthralled, barely moving through-
out the telling. The demon whimpered twice but oth-
erwise sat still and quiet.

"So you see," she finished, "if I do go with you, you
won't be getting a mighty wizard capable of blasting away
all opposition. No more snatching you out of danger be-
fore the danger really begins. I'll be using most of my
power just to stay intact." For the first time in the telling,
she met their eyes. "Do you still want me?"

Without looking at Jago, Raulin answered for both
of them.

"Yes," he said simply.

"Because you feel sorry for me?" The words
slipped out before Crystal could stop them.

"Because we want your company," Raulin told her
softly, hearing the fear behind her words. He leered in
his best exaggerated manner. "Chaos knows why, but
we Uke you." Then he grew serious. "And I can't
deny we could use whatever help you can give."

He would've gone on but Jago, who sat where he
could see the rest of the cavern, grabbed his arm and
quieted him with a small shake of his head.

"Why didn't you tell me," asked the one true son
of the Mother, "when this began?"

Shaking back the silver curtain of her hair. Crystal
met Lord Death's eyes. Answering one question, it
seemed, led only to others. She shrugged, trying to
lessen the importance of her answer for the wrong
weight here would lead to questions she knew she
couldn't deal with. "I was afraid you wouldn't like me
if I wasn't perfect."

Lord Death blinked once or twice in surprise. Of all
the possible reasons she might give for shutting him
out. for refusing to confide in him, he hadn't expected
that. His lips twitched as he thought about it, then he
smiled. "You have never been perfect." he said.

She returned his smile, partly in response, partly in
relief that their friendship seemed back on its old footing,

96 TanyaHuff

with the awkwardness of the past two meetings buried by
that quip. She couldn't know that she had given him hope.

An irrational hope, all things considered. Lord
Death acknowledged with an inner sigh.

"Is she talking to him?" Raulin hissed-

Jago nodded.

"Is he talking back?"

Jago nodded again.

"I don't think I like this,"

"Better get used to it. brother." Jago levered him-
self to his feet by grasping Raulin's shoulder. His legs
had grown stiff from sitting so long in one place while
Crystal told her story. "We can't spend the night in
here, most of our gear is on the sled. And I don't know
about the rest of you, but I'm getting hungry."

On cue. Crystal's stomach grumbled loudly. "Hun-
gry," she agreed, "is definitely the word for it."

Raulin stood and in mirrored moves the brothers
each held a hand out to the woman on the ground.
Their gazes crossed as each made note of the other's
gesture, then locked in near identical glares.

Crystal stared from one to the other in surprise,
quickly suppressed the grin threatening to break free—-
the last time she'd seen those expressions they'd been
on the faces of her youngest siblings and had rapidly
degenerated to yells of "Can too!" and "Can not!"—
and used both offered hands to pull herself up. She
supposed it was equally childish of her to feel pleased
at being the bone of contention. She didn't care. Per-
haps, Just perhaps, things were going to work out.

The centaurs, reminded a quiet voice in her mind.

Shall I leave these two alone to be slaughtered? she
thought back at it and it stilled.

"Crystal," Lord Death called softly. "My people?"

The demon crept forward and tugged on the edge of
the coat. "Free me," it pleaded.

She reached down and touched the demon's head
with one pale finger. "Yes." For it had suddenly come
to her how she could.

She moved to the center of the cavern and the coat

THE LAST WIZARD 97

slid down off her shoulders and to the stone floor. A
breeze, an impossible breeze this deep beneath a
mountain, fanned her hair into a nimbus of silver light.
Green fires blazed up in her eyes and she reached out
with her power and drove the green between the red
and black that bound the demon.

Those who watched saw the muscles of her back roll
and twist and her hands snap up to shoulder height and
the knuckles whiten as they closed to fists.

The red and black were weakening and her power
became a silver sword to cut the bindings loose.

Her arms went up, the fingers taut, and when she
brought them down again, the wall of bone came down
too.

"FREE!" No longer gray but an iridescent blur, the
demon spun once in place, its arms outstretched, and
disappeared.

"FREE!" screamed the dead, and Lord Death van-
ished too, carrying his children home.

Crystal grabbed the shattered power of the ancient
wizard and threw it up in the path of Zarsheiy, the first
of the goddesses to attack the weakened shields.
Howling with rage, the fire goddess hit the barrier, hit
the jagged pieces of red and black and was stopped.
It had been a binding power after all.

Well done. The velvet voice of darkness sounded
amused and Crystal felt the presences retreat to their
own corners once again.

Pleased with her solution, and even more pleased
that it had worked, for she hadn't been sure it would,
she took a deep breath and relaxed.

"Crystal?"

Jago stepped forward, once again offering her the coat.
He kept his eyes carefully on her face but their outer edges
crinkled as he said: "ForRaulin's sake ..."

Interlude One

Back in the bright beginning, when the Mother-creator
had formed the world from her body and the air about
it from her breath, when She had given life to the lesser
creatures of the land and air and water, She paused to
rest in a grove of silver birch. As She rested. She grew
lonely and so called to life the spirit of the tree She
sat beneath that She might have company.

And because She stayed for a time in that place, the
glory of her spread out into the surrounding land. In
the Grove itself, the Peace that was the Mother re-
mained.

When the Age of Wizards ended, a band of Mortals
desperately seeking peace were drawn to that land.
The Grove became a sacred place. A respectful dis-
tance from it, they began to rebuild their lives. They
drew boundaries along mountains and rivers and called
that which was bounded, Ardhan. These Mortals, the
Mother's Youngest, had no way of knowing that the
echo of the Mother's presence called to others as well
and that they shared their new land with creatures out
of legend.

The Elder Races, those created of the Mother's
blood, paid little attention to the newcomers. Their
lives moved in different ways and only occasionally
touched. The Elder Races were few in number and the
land was large enough for all. Most of the time. As
the years passed, Ardhan gained a reputation as a place
where wonders happened.

It was in Ardhan that the Eldest and the Youngest
briefly joined.

98

THE LAST WIZARD 99

From Ardhan came the last of the wizards.
In Ardhan, the Council of the Elder Races met.

From his vantage point on the ridge, Doan could
see the entire meeting place. Three centaurs. He
grunted. Three too many as far as he was concerned.
And one, no, two, giants. They sat so still his gaze
tended to slide past them for all their size.

"Might as well get on with it," the dwarf muttered
to the breezes. They chuckled as they sped away. "Oh,
sure," he complained, heading down to level ground,
"you can laugh. You don't have to stay."

He dropped the last eight feet, and, mildly disap-
pointed that none of the centaurs shied, started right
in. "What I want to know." his hands were on his
hips, his chin jutted forward aggressively, and his
breath was a plume on the winter air, "is why here?
Why not the Grove?"

*when we move the water*

*to*

*the Grove*

*the sisters get angry*

The thoughts rose up out of the deep pool near which
the land-bound Elders had gathered. Although ice
clung around the edges, the center, despite the frigid
temperature, was clear. Below the surface of the wa-
ter, pale green and blue bodies wove in and out in a
pattern as graceful as it was complicated. The exact
number of mer who had answered the Call could not
I,,   be determined for the waterfolk were never still, but
If   it scarcely mattered for a thought held by one was
shared by all.

"And," added the tallest of the centaurs, his coat
gleaming like ebony in the early morning sun, "as the
Ladies of the Grove cannot leave their trees, little of
the outside world concerns them."

"Told you to take a hike did they, C'Tal? Can't say
as I blame them."

C'Tal's eyes narrowed and he stared down his nose

100 TanyaHuff

at the dwarf. "If you do not wish to be here, why did
you choose to answer the call?"

"You think I volunteered? Ha!" Doan hacked and
spit into the snow at C'Tal's feet. He disliked centaurs
for a number of reasons. Their pomposity, their
"Elder-than-thou" attitude, and their lack of anything
remotely resembling a sense of humor headed the list,
but mostly he disliked them because the Elder Races
were supposed to get along and he enjoyed being con-
trary. "Chaos, no. I had everyone in the caverns beg-
ging me to answer so they wouldn't have to risk death
by boredom. Now," he shoved his hands behind his
broad leather belt, and rocked back on his heels,
"what could possibly have got you so twitchy you were
willing to associate with the bubble brains."

"•better bubbles*

*than stone*

C*Tal's tail snapped back and forth in short jerky
arcs. A centaur did not "dislike" anyone, but C*Tal
certainly disapproved of Doan. Sarcasm and cynicism
barred clear thinking. He expected the dwarf's oppo-
sition in what was to come. The mer, for all their
frivolity, were logical creatures, and he had no doubt
he could convince them. The giants, so motionless they
appeared more a bit of the earth poking up through the
snow than living beings, could decide either way, but
C'Tal took comfort in the knowledge that they would at
least listen without interrupting.

"We would not have Called had we not thought this
to be the gravest of emergencies."

"Too cold for horseflies." Doan mused. "Weevils
got into your nosebags?"

*quiet Doan*

*or*

*we'll be here*

*al! day*

C'tal looked smug.

*and you, half-horse*

*speak*

*we*

THE LAST WIZARD 101

*have places that need us*

Irritation visible in his flattened ears, C'Tal crossed
his arms over his massive chest, drew his brows down
into an impressive frown and announced, "It is the
wizard."

"I might have known," Doan sighed. "Every time
one of you gets colic you blame it on her.'* He shook
his head. "Why don't you leave the poor kid alone?"

One of C'Tal's companions stepped forward, tossing
heavy chestnut hair back out of his eyes. "Surely even
you felt the surge of power she called to her use and
the breaking of ancient bonds. Are you not curious to
discover what she has done?"

Doan smiled unpleasantly. "No, C'Din," he said
"I'm not. And you, you four-footed busy ..."

*she has freed*

*AryaIan's demon*

Shocked, the three centaurs and Doan stared down
into the water. Even the giants stirred, although they
only looked at each other and smiled their slow smiles.

A pale blue body, small enough to fit easily into
C'Tal's hand, arced out of the pool, turned once lan-
guidly in midair, then disappeared again into the ebb
and flow of mer.

*the demon's prison had a spring*

*we*

*go where water is*

"All right," Doan said to the general area, "she
freed the demon. So? About time the poor thing got
to go home. And yeah, I felt the power surge; it was
completely contained. Nothing to do with us."

"That." declared C'tal ponderously, "is not the
problem. It merely alerted us to that which we have
called the Elder to discuss. She ..."

"Hold it," the dwarf held up a callused hand. When
C'Tal paused, his lips drawn into a thin line, Doan
climbed nimbly up the tailings of the ridge he'd fol-
lowed from the caverns, kicked the snow from a nar-
row ledge, crossed his legs and sat down. "Talking to

102 TanyaHuff

you on level ground,** he explained sweetly, "gives
me a pain in the neck."

"We are aware of herbal remedies," offered the
third centaur, a glossy palomino, "that will relieve
such pain."

"How about relieving a pain in the ass?"

"Yes," the golden head nodded thoughtfully, "we
can ease that also."

"Later," C'Tal bit the word off, his teeth white slabs
against the black of his beard, well aware the dwarf
was being deliberately irritating. "We believe that
when the wizard freed the demon she discovered the
location of Aryalan's tower."

"So that's the burr under your blanket." Doan
sighed and relaxed. It was just like the centaurs to get
upset over something trivial- "I suggested years ago
we let her deal with the remaining towers. I said it
then and 1*11 say it now, the poor kid needs something
to do. I'm glad she found one on her own."

"She is a danger, the towers are a danger," C'Din
pointed out quietly.

"Hold that thought, hayburner," Doan interrupted.
"You lot trained her, why not have some trust in your
training?"

C'Din shook his head, his forelock falling back
down over his eyes. "As you and others have pointed
out, we trained the ancient wizards as well." He
paused. When no one filled the silence with a re-
minder of what the ancient wizards had become, he
continued. "We feel—now, as we did at your sugges-
tion years ago—that the wizard at the tower is one
danger too many. She is already the most powerful
being now living. When she reaches the tower and
adds the power within to what she already carries, will
that not be an undesirable event?"

Doan kept a grip on his temper. C'Din was being
very reasonable, for a centaur. And what was worse,
he had a valid point. "Why," he growled, "will that
be an 'undesirable event'?"

THE LAST WIZARD 103

"All power corrupts," C'Tal intoned. "Absolute
power corrupts absolutely."

The dwarf's eyes began to glow red and he pulled
himself slowly to his feet. The cold of the outside
world meant nothing to the Elder, but the chill radi-
ating from Doan caused two of the centaurs to step
away and, although he stood his ground, long shivers
rippled the skin of C'Tal's back.

*stop*

*cliche becomes cliche*
"•because of truth*

*power*

*does*

*corrupt*

The red dimmed but did not die. "I will listen to
no more of this- You've got my opinion, not that you'll
pay any attention to it. I've stayed at this farce long
enough." Doan leaped to the ground, but a huge arm
bared his way.

"Wait." The larger of the two giants looked down
at him, her face expressionless.

Doan seethed, but until she moved her arm he wasn't
going anywhere and he knew it. With ill grace he did
the only thing he could. He waited.

"When you called us, C'Tal, what did you intend
the Elder to do?" Her voice was strong and deep but
softer than her size would lead many to expect. The
giants had no need to shout.

C'Tal shrugged. "In some manner, we must prevent
the wizard . . ."

"She has a name," Doan snarled.

"Very well." C'Tal's tone made it obvious that he
merely humored the dwarf. "We must prevent Crystal
from reaching Aryalan's tower."

"No," the giant said.

"No?" chorused all three centaurs.

Doan grinned, his good humor suddenly restored.
"You heard her, she said no."

*why no*

"The remaining towers of the ancient ones are a

104 Tanya Huff

danger and should be dealt with. The wizard is the

only possible solution."

"That's not what you thought a dozen years ago

when we discussed telling her about the towers," Doan

groused.

Again the giants exchanged their slow smiles.
"We changed our minds," said the smaller one.
"So," Doan moved to stand before C'Tal, peering

up at him through narrowed eyes. "That's two against

sticking our noses in and two for."

*three against*

*one for*

*this wizard must be as free to take her own path*

*as every other creature*

*we cannot say*

*this is right*

*this is*

*wrong*

C'Tal dug at the ground, packing the snow into ice,
his ears flat against his head, his companions equally
upset. "So we are to stand by and let the Age of Wiz-
ards come again?*'

"No."

Doan turned on the giants, hands on his hips.
"What? Changed your minds again?" His lip curied
and his voice dripped sarcasm but the giants appeared
not to notice.

* 'Power can always be misused, we recognize that..."

The centaurs calmed a little.

<t. . . so we will watch to see that it is not."

"You?"

"Me," the smaller giant said softly. "I know the
land the tower is in."

"Not exactly inconspicuous are you?"

"I will oner my help openly."

"And why should she take it?"

Once more the slow exchange of smiles.

"Will you two stop doing that," Doan snaried.

Both giants inclined their heads in a unified apology
and Doan rolled his eyes.

THE LAST WIZARD 105

"She'll take my help," the smaller continued, "be-
cause I have been in the tower."

The silence that followed was so complete that the
sound of the mer moving through the water could be
clearly heard.

For a change, Doan and the centaurs were in com-
plete accord; his look of incredulity was reproduced
in a larger scale on their faces as he demanded: "What
in the Mother's name did you do that for?'*

The smaller giant looked unperturbed. "I was cu-
rious," she explained.

"Aren't you a bit big to get curious?"

The two giants looked down at Doan. Quite a way
down, for although the smaller was no more than
twelve feet tall, the dwarf barely topped four.

"Aren't you a bit small to take such a tone?" the
larger chastised him gently. "We get as curious as any
race."

"Not so I've ever noticed."

Two sets of earth-brown eyes twinkled. "You live
too fast, dwarf."

*what was in*

*the tower*

"A great deal of unpleasantness." The smaller gi-
ant sighed. "I did not go all the way in, but from what
I saw, Aryalan trusted no one. The way is well
trapped."

Doan's eyes narrowed. "And you're willing to go
back?"

The larger giant took a deep breath and began to
explain again. "The tower must be dealt with. The
wizard is the only one who can do it, but the wizard
should be watched."

"I am the logical choice to watch the wizard. I will
therefore go back," the smaller concluded and spread
her hands. "Where is the difficulty?"

C*Tal beamed and bestowed his highest accolade.
"An explanation worthy of a centaur." He ignored
Doan*s snort. "Are we all agreed then?"

*we*

106 TanyaHuff

*agree*

"And I," said C'Din. The palomino nodded sol-
emnly.

"Doan?"

The dwarf scratched his chin, stared off at the ho-
rizon, and finally threw up his hands. "Oh, all right.*'
His brows came down and he glared up at C'Tal. "But
not because I think the kid'll misuse anything. I want
everyone to understand my position on that."

"You have, as usual," C'Tal said dryly, "made your
point of view known."

"Good." He twitched his leather tunic straight.
"Remember it." And stomped off.

*we*

*are leaving also*

*watch well, large ones*

"We shall."

And then the pool was empty.

"You have," C'Tal intoned, "our thanks for dis-
covering a solution to the problem. And you will," he
continued, "I am sure, not only watch but take steps
to ensure mere is no abuse of power should such a
situation occur."

"We shall."

"Then we also will be departing."

The three centaurs bowed in unison then, still in
perfect synchronicity, whirled and galloped away.

The two giants sat quietly while the spray of snow
from the centaurs departure settled. Then they sat qui-
etly for a few hours more while the pool iced over and
the sun disappeared behind the silver-gray of a winter's
sky.

"You didn't tell them why you went only a short
way into the tower," said the larger at last.

"No."

"Nor did you tell them that you can't go farther than
you did and that if the wizard does, she must go
alone."

A curious jay landed on the broad ledge of the
smaller giant's shoulder, making a bright patch of blue

THE LAST WIZARD 107

against the brown. She shrugged carefully so as not to
disturb him. "Everyone is happy and I saved much
time that would have been spent arguing. The tower
must be dealt with. I'll know by then if the wizard
must."

"And if she must?"

"I will deal with it. But I see no reason to worry
now."

And again they exchanged slow smiles, then sat mo-
tionless until the jay grew bored and flew off.

Six

Even with two pulling and one behind, the sleigh
seemed to gain in weight on every uphill climb.

And these damn mountains, Jago thought to himself,
putting his shoulder against the rear crossbar and
shoving, are more uphill than down! ''Chaos!'* the
last he cried aloud as his feet lost their purchase and
he slammed to his knees on the heavy crust. He
reached out to grab for the sleigh then changed his
mind as. unbraced, it slid back an inch or two. He
heard Crystal gasp and Raulin swear as they took up
the extra weight. Moving carefully, for the light cover
of dry powder made the crust doubly treacherous and
the footholds the two pulling had chopped were out of
his reach to either side, he got one foot under him,
shifted his balance, fell flat on his back and slid twelve
feet back down the mountain to slam up against a
granite outcropping.

Kraydak's Empire had not been a pleasant place to
grow up in, but some things are better learned in ad-
versity. Jago took ftill advantage of his education as he
cursed the sleigh, the snow, the rock, and then his
brother.

"Should you be laughing?" Crystal murmured to
Raulin as they carefully backed the sleigh down the
mountain. On this footing neither could hold the
weight alone so the other could go for the brake and
Crystal had promised the brothers that, for her own
sake. she would use power only when the problem
could not be solved in mortal ways.

"He's okay," Raulin grunted. Leaning back against
108

THE LAST WIZARD 109

the drag of the sleigh had twisted the harness so the
straps cut into his armpits. Jago deserved whatever
damage he'd done himself for that extra discomfort.
"Fortunately, it sounds like he landed on his head."

Jago scrambled out of the way as the sleigh eased
up against the rock. When it rested securely, he
grabbed one of the handles and gingerly pulled himself
to his feet.

As the pressure eased off the straps. Crystal freed
herself and hurried around to his side. She wore Jago's
spare pants, one of Raulin's shirts, and an old green
sweater both of them laid claim to.

"We know it isn't much, " Jago had explained when
they 'd laid the clothes out for her, ' 'but at least you 'II
be protected if you lose control again. "

She reached out one hand and lightly touched their
offering. Although not enough for warmth—no matter,
a wizard, even an unstable one, was not at the mercy
of the elements—it was enough to cushion ftesh in a
way that clothes woven of power could not when the
power was no longer there. "I can't shift when I'm so
confined," she said slowly. "If I wear these, I'll be
bound to this form. "

"Suits me. " Raulin smiled and winked.

His words made the decision easier for her and she
wondered if he 'd known that when he spoke; wondered
if the seemingly careless words actually held care. She
dressed and then sculpted herself a pair of soft gray
boots from woodsmoke.

"Function follows form," she explained, slipping
them on. "Or at least that's what the centaurs always
told me. I could as warmly go barefoot, but this will
keep my mind from the task and yours from my feet. "

And both brothers had shuddered at the vision of
bare feet on snow.

"Hey, I'm okay," Jago protested as Crystal reached
for the strings that tied the heavy fur cap to his head.
"I barely felt it." He knew better than to try and push
her hands away. Early on, they'd discovered that her
physical strength at the very least matched either of

110 TanyaHuff

theirs. Occasionally, Jago wondered if she held back
for fear of doing damage to their tender male egos.

Tossing the hat aside. Crystal probed the back of
Jago's skull with gentle fingers. She shook her own
head in irritation as he winced and tried to hide it
when she found die tender spot.

"Don't worry," she reassured him, although exas-
peration touched her voice as well. "I use more power
than this breathing." Her eyes flared briefly as she
healed the bruising and Nocked the incipient head-
ache.

"Don't suppose you could do something about the
significant lack of grace while you're in there?" Rau-
lin called, sinking down on the front end of the sleigh
and not bothering to unhook.

"This from a man who trips over shadows," Jago
snorted, jamming his hat back on and securing it. He
half-smiled his thanks at Crystal, too tired to get his
entire face to cooperate, and pulled his heavy overcoat
out from under the loose bindings that secured it. Now
that they were no longer working, he was beginning
to feel the cold. He yanked Raulin's coat free as well,
and threw it at his brother's back. Without turning, or
removing the harness, Raulin shrugged into it. It
bunched up where the traces connected the harness to
the sleigh, but it covered him enough to provide
warmth.

All three of them looked up at the twelve feet they'd
lost. It seemed like a hundred. The shadow of the
mountain turned everything, path, sleigh, spirits, to a
bleak and unyielding gray.

"Trouble is," Jago sighed, leaning against the sleigh
and scrubbing at his face, "the man following has no
traction." He waved at the axes Crystal and Raulin
had been using to break through the ice. "He doesn't
have his hands free to chip footholds, and that crust
is too damn thick to stamp through."

"Trouble is," Raulin echoed, "the man following
is a lout."

THE LAST WIZARD 111

Jago's violet eyes narrowed. "Crust isn't the only
thing that's too damn thick around here.*'

The underlying good humor, usually present in the
brothers' bickering, was noticeably absent. Tempers
were short, particularity the more volatile Raulin's.
Crystal suspected that only the numbing exhaustion of
the past few days had kept things from exploding all
over the mountainside. They needed some kind of re-
lease from the drag of the sleigh and the constant cold,
and, she was forced to admit, the tension her presence
caused.

Physical attraction—not quite desire, not yet-
stretched between her and Raulin like a bowstring.
Explored, it would be easier to live with, but they
hadn't had that chance. For the sake of warmth during
the bitterly cold nights, the three shared a bed, her
wizard's body generating enough heat for them all. If
she used power to create privacy, she doubted she'd be
able to contain Avreen once they began. If Jago would
only take a walk for a couple of hours. . . . But they
couldn't ask. Not in the winter. Not in these moun-
tains. And Jago. Healing him was like healing herself,
everything just seemed to fall back into place. The
bond with him was a comfort—not a torment, not even
an itch—and that was a relationship that needed denn-
ing as well.

Now this.

She glared back up the mountain.

Three hundred feet, maybe less, and they'd reach
the pass and be on level ground for a while.

She kicked at the crust.

And then again.

"I think," she said slowly, "I may have an idea."

Both men turned to look at her, faces blank. Below
her feet, the snow began to steam. With a crack, the
crust broke and she sank up to her ankles in the softer
snow beneath.

"No," they said simultaneously.

"Look," she explained, stepping out of the hole,
"it's no more than I do at night when I raise my body

112 TanyaHuff

temperature. You two pull and I'll push, melting my-
self a stairway as I go."

*'It might work," Raulin said thoughtfully, pushing
down his scarf and pulling bits of ice from his mus-
tache.

"No," Jago repeated. "It's too dangerous for you
to bleed off power. We can't risk the goddesses getting
free." He met her eyes. They were the only green
they'd seen for the last two days. "No. We'll think of
another way.*'

Raulin twisted around and glared but remained si-
lent.

Crystal bit back a sigh. Lately, it seemed she was
the only thing they didn't actually fight over. She rec-
ognized the stubborn set to Jago's jaw and realized she
was Just too tired to muster the enthusiasm necessary
to change his mind. Let the mountain change it for
them, she decided, and pulled herself up on the rock
to wait.

So they thought about other ways. Every now and
then, one of the brothers would snari something, the
other would growl a negative reply, and silence would
fall again. Crystal let them keep it up until she knew
they could feel the cold creeping in under their furs
and then she said softly, "There is no other way."

Raulin muttered an obscenity under his breath, then
stood, tossing his coat back to Jago as he did. Jago
ducked the heavy fur, letting it fall on the sleigh, slid
out of his own, and secured them both. He walked up
front and buckled himself into the other harness.
Without speaking, in no way acknowledging each oth-
er's presence, they began to pull the sleigh away from
the rock. When there was enough room, Crystal
slipped in behind and began to push.

The first twelve feet went quickly, for only Crystal
had to break the crust, and then they slowed as Raulin
and Jago began to swing the axes once more. Still,
with all three on firm footing, progress was neither as
arduous nor as slow as it had been.

THE LAST WIZARD 113

Safely in the pass, with the brake shoved deep into
the snow, they collapsed.

"I say we make camp here," Raulin panted. "I'm
beat."

"Still a couple of hours of day left," Jago argued,
getting slowly to his feet. "I'd like to see what's on
the other side of the pass."

Moving carefully, Raulin stood as well and began to
unlash the gear. "Life is too short," he growled,
yanking at a knot, "to waste it by dying of exhaus-
tion."

"And we get little enough daylight to waste it be-
cause you can't make it get any farther." Jago
stretched, leaned against the rock wall of the pass, and
crossed his arms. "Getting old, Raulin?"

One step, two, Raulin moved toward his brother.
His lips pulled back from his teeth and his hands
clenched into fists. Smart-assed little snot. Had as
much of that sm^g, pompous smile as I can take . . .

Jago straightened and dropped his weight forward
onto the balls of his feet. Time that arrogant asshole
teamed he doesn 't run my life . . .

Should I stop them? Crystal wondered. Perhaps this
is the release they need.

Mortals, snorted Zarsheiy's voice in her head. With
Crystal's power turned to heat, the fire goddess stayed
close to the barriers that kept her penned. You 'II never
understand them.

Watching Raulin and Jago circling for an opening,
Crystal admitted Zarsheiy was probably right.

The tension built until even the mountain seemed
aware of it. A deep rumble, felt rather than heard,
drew all gazes upward. Another rumble sent one or
two tiny white balls dancing down the weight of snow
poised above the pass.

"We can't stay here," Crystal said softly, voicing
the obvious in case the brothers were too wrapped in
anger to realize. "It isn't safe.'*

The tableau stayed frozen a moment longer, then
Raulin spun about and grabbed up a harness.

114 TanyaHuff

"Try and keep up," he snarled as he jerked the
sleigh into motion.

Jago snatched up the second harness and fell into
step. They crossed the three miles of the pass in si-
lence.

Late afternoon sunlight bathed the northwest side of
the mountains, giving everything a rosy glow. A long,
smooth expanse of pinkish-white snow spread down
from the pass for a mile, maybe more, unbroken by
rock or tree, and ended in a dark line of forest.

For a long moment the brothers Just stood and
stared, at the light, at the color, at the lack of gray.
From her place behind the sleigh. Crystal saw some
of the stiffness fall from their shoulders.

"Porest'd be a good place to spend the night," Rau-
lin observed at last, squinting into the sun. "We'd have
lots of wood and a good sized fire for a change."

"Course we'd have to get there before dark," Jago
added, kicking at the snow. It was still crusted, though
covered by about six inches of powder.

"Angle's a little steep. Stopping could be tricky."

Jago grinned at him. "Worry about that when we
get there.'*

Raulin shrugged and returned the grin, the last few
days suddenly forgotten. "Why not."

With a whoop that echoed back from the peaks
above them, the brothers yanked off their harnesses
and tossed them on the sleigh. While Raulin checked
to make sure everything was secure, Jago pulled their
coats free. Crystal stood watching, openmouthed.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Trust us," Raulin told her, doing up his coat and
wrapping his scarf more securely about his head. "You
steer?" he asked Jago.

Jago nodded as they pulled the sleigh to the edge of
the slope. "Suits me."

Careful not to start things moving too soon, Raulin
scrambled up onto the load, settling himself as se-
curely as possible. "Okay, Crystal, come on up."

Crystal began to get the idea. She looked down the

THE LAST WIZARD 115

mountain. A steep, straight run into a wall of trees.
She looked at Raulin and Jago. They flashed her nearly
identical, maniacal grins. I'm as crazy as they are, she
thought as she climbed on and eased herself down be-
tween Raulin's legs. Release is one thing but this . . .
She leaned back against his chest and felt one arm go
around her.

"Hang on," he said into her ear.

All things considered, that seemed like good advice,
so she did.

"Okay, Jago, let'er rip!"

The crust that had worked against them all the way
up the mountain worked for them now. Jago threw his
weight against the crossbar and the sleigh began to
move. It picked up speed. Running full out, Jago
tightened his grip and yanked himself forward, up onto
the backs of the protruding runners.

Faster and faster. The runners roared against the

snow.

Crystal squinted into the wind and the stinging load
of snow it carried. Pushed back against Raulin's com-
forting bulk, she realized they were totally at the mercy
of the slope. The thought terrified, but was at the same
time strangely exhilarating. She stared ahead and tried
to remember to breathe.

The slope was not as smooth as it had appeared
from the pass.

The sleigh bounced over a hillock. Jago threw his
weight in the opposite direction and the airborne run-
ner slammed back onto the snow.

A sudden drop caused Crystal and the sleigh to part
company for an instant. She bit back a shriek and hung
on tighter. / should've—ouch—walked! She thought.
as Raulin howled something wordless into the wind.

The sleigh moved off crust and onto granular snow.
The roar of the runners softened, but they lost no
speed. The forest began to approach very quickly.

Crystal clutched at Raulin's arm. "How do we
stop?" she yelled.

116 TanyaHuff

A shrug and a wild laugh was the only answer she
got.

The forest separated into individual trees.

The sleigh lunged into the air. When it landed. Jago
yanked back hard on the brakes and they slowed. A
little. Not enough.

This far north, at this time of the year, little or no un-
derbrush filled in the spaces between the trees. The trees
still grew too close together to allow the sleigh to pass.

Crystal gathered the power she'd need to stop them
before the forest did.

Jago reached forward over the crossbar and slapped
Raulin on the left shoulder. Raulin nodded and leaned
hard to the right, pulling Crystal over with him. The
snow passed as a white blur, distressingly close. As
the left runner ran up a ridge, Jago released the left
brake and yanked down hard on the right.

"Mother-creator . . ." Crystal felt the sleigh twist
beneath her . . .

... a strap broke . . .

. . . Raulin's hands on her waist . . .

. . . wind . . .

... air ...

. . . cold . . .

. . . and the sudden shock of impact.

White. All she could see was white. Slowly, checking
to make sure everything still worked. Crystal pulled her
face out of the snowbank and turned. The sleigh lay on
its side, half its contents fanned out over the snow. Rau-
lin. she realized, had tossed her free. Raulin, who now
roared with laughter and clapped his brother on the
shoulder in congratulations. They'd dumped the sleigh
on purpose! And they knew they would have to dump
it right from the beginning! Her eyes narrowed as she
dug snow out of her ears. Why those two . . .

The first snowball took Raulin just above the elbow.
The second clipped Jago on the thigh. The third hit
the edge of the runner now up in the air and sprayed
wet white powder over both of them.

THE LAST WIZARD 117

They turned, startled, and two lovely large handfuls
caught both of them in the face.

"Oh, so that's the way it's going to be, is it?" Rau-
lin yelled, scraping his face clean. He ducked another
missile, scooped up a double fistful of snow and began
returning fire.

Crystal twisted nimbly out of the way. "You'll have
to do better than that," she taunted, tossing her hair
back behind her shoulders. She bent to pick up more
snow and Jago, who'd crept around the other end of
the sleigh, scored a direct hit.

For the next little while the air was white as snow-
balls flew thick and fast. Sometimes two against one—
and not always the same two—and sometimes all of
them for themselves, but it soon became obvious that
Crystal got hit far less often than the other two.

"I think," Jago shouted to his brother, currently an
ally sharing the dubious shelter behind the sleigh, "she
cheats."

"Does she now . . ." Raulin drawled. A snowball
chose that moment to curve around their barrier and
smack him in the side of the head. "Well, cheaters,"
he grinned, "never prosper." He jerked a thumb up
and Jago nodded. Together they swarmed over the
sleigh. Raulin hit her nigh. Jago hit her low.

Howling with laughter, in a tangle of arms and legs
and great fur coats and flying silver hair, they rolled
the last twenty feet to the forest and thudded up against
the trunk of a young pine. The tree rocked, shook,
and dumped its entire load of snow on their heads.

Lord Death stood quietly and watched the camp take
shape just inside the shelter of the forest. Although he
could not have been seen, he kept to shadow. It suited
his mood.

"I am tired of watching," he said softly to the wind.
It whirled about him, unable to offer comfort, and a
clump of snow blew from a branch above. He held out
his hand and the snow passed through it, in no way
affected by his presence.

118 TanyaHuff

"I am tired of watching," he said again, his eyes
on the sUver-haired woman by the fire. "But I don't
know what else I can do."

"What I want to know," Jago unwound the copper
wire securing the end of one braid, "is how you got
to be such a deadly aim with a snowball."

Crystal smiled and poked at the fire. Behind me shields
Zarsheiy stirred and the blaze flared up, but as the fire
goddess seemed content to merely vent her frustration,
Crystal ignored her. "The centaurs," she explained. "They
live on the great plains. No hills but lots of snow. They
seemed to think it would improve my coordination."

*' Seems like too much fun for a centaur to approve of.''

"They'll approve of anything, as long as mere's a
lesson in it."

Jago snorted and shook his head. Free of the braids,
his hair fell to his waist in a rippling golden mass.
"Doesn't sound like much of a childhood," he said,
beginning to comb it.

The wizard shrugged. "It wasn't so bad."

"I suppose. Still, it sounds . . . HEY!" He whirled
and swung at his brother's legs, but Raulin had already
backed out of reach. "He's jealous," Jago told Crys-
tal, rubbing his head where Raulin had plucked out a
hair. "Just because he'd losing his . . ."

"Ha!" Rauiin stepped over the log they were using
as a bench and dropped down onto it. He reached for
the blackened metal teapot and poured himself a cup.
"Your vanity is going to get your ass in trouble some-
day. Should've had that whole mess chopped off years
ago."

"Mess?" Jago turned, his hair glowing gold in the
firelight, the wooden comb pointing at Raulin's face.
"I'll cut my hair when you get rid of that growth on
your upper lip."

"I*H see you in Chaos first."

"More than likely."

Their words held the cadence of a litany and Crystal
relaxed, savoring the heat of the fire, the sweet strength

THE LAST WIZARD 119

of the tea, and the comfort of companionship. Just for
an instant, she thought she saw something move in the
darkness under the trees. She dropped her gaze into
her mug, losing the image in its contents. The dark-
ness was Nashawryn's realm and she had no intention
of loosing that dread goddess again.

Out under the trees. Lord Death sighed. Once, she
would have looked for him. but she didn't need him
now. Still, she was happy. He'd never heard her laugh
the way she had that afternoon. Wasn't that what he
wanted? Wasn't it?

Raulin settled his forearms on his knees and watched
his brother and the wizard. They looked, he thought.
like the sun and the moon come down to share his fire.
He had a sudden vision of the two of them entwined,
great lengths of gold and silver hair wrapping about
them and the rush of desire that accompanied it left him
momentarily weak. As though aware of his thoughts,
Jago turned to look at him and Raulin raised his mug
in a slow and silent toast. Jago grinned, raised both
brows, and returned to freeing a tangle. Coincidence,
Raulin decided. Although the love between them was
the strongest and best thing in both their lives, it had
never expressed itself as mind-reading. Not even when
they'd been children and couldVe used it. ...

With his attention apparently on his hair, Jago man-
aged to keep both Crystal and his brother within sight.
He had a sudden urge to shout, "Would you two get
it over with so I can figure out where I fit in!'* but he
held his peace. Would talking to Raulin do any good?
He doubted it; his brother never welcomed interfer-
ence in his love life—Jago smiled at memories—as
much as heU always needed it. ...

Crystal stared into the fire, acutely conscious of the
man to either side of her. They were so much the same
in so many ways and yet she reacted completely dif-
ferently to each. She wished she'd learned more about
men in her twelve years of wandering. Twelve years.

120 TanyaHuff

The fire danced with visions of the battle on the Tage
Plateau, with the pyramids of bodies Kraydak had built
across half the worid. Kraydak and his armies. Kray-
dak *s Horde. The men of the Empire.

"Raulin, how old are you?" she asked softly, be-
cause she daren't ask the other question, the question
that naturally followed her line of thought.

Raulin sighed. "Thirty-seven. Jago is thirty-three."

"Then you were ..."

"Part of Kraydak's armies?" He shifted, snagged
the pot, and poured more tea. He'd wondered, off and
on, how long it would take her to make that connec-
tion. "I was. Jago wasn't."

She turned over a number of responses in her mind,
sure of how she felt but unsure of how to express it.
Jago broke into the silence before she got the chance.

"Does it matter?" His voice was flat. "He didn't
have a choice. Crystal. When they took you, you went.
Or you died. They never came for me. That's the only
difference. He didn't fight for anything he belfeved in.
He only fought to stay alive. When you destroyed
Kraydak, you freed Raulin as much as you freed coun-
tries under Kraydak's yoke. Does that make him the
enemy now?" His face remained expressionless as he
stared at her, but in his heart he prayed for her to say
no, to not tear down the delicate friendship that had
begun to grow among the three of them.

Crystal raised her head and Jago fell into the bril-
liant green of her eyes.

You 've always hurt for him, haven't you ?

He felt the question, knew it hadn't been spoken
aloud. He felt her take his answer. Across the bond
that stretched between them, across the bond woven
of bits and pieces pulled from both their lives, he felt
her say: / hurt for all of them.

He felt her pain and knew she meant every life that
Kraydak had touched.

And he felt how it cut and tore when they wouldn't let
her help but ran in fear and suspicion because she came
of the same race Kraydak did. Felt her despair and burned

THE LAST WIZARD 121

with shame that he had considered even for an instant she
would forget who the real enemy had been.

Then he again sat beside the fire. looking into a
crystal tear that ran down the curve of an ivory cheek.
His face grew hot and he tried to turn away, but she
laid a hand along his cheek and stopped him.

"We carry the pain," she said softly, "because it
is all that we can do."

The why, made up for both of guilt and doubt and
caring, they didn't have to speak of.

A second tear joined the first. "I never realized be-
fore that I wasn't carrying it alone."

Jago turned his head, not taking his eyes from her,
and softly kissed the palm that held him. She smiled,
a little tremulously, and drew the hand away to wipe
the tears dry with the place his lips had touched.

The bond between them strengthened, for only one
thing was stronger than pain shared for love's sake and
that was love shared for the same reason.

Raulin watched the only two people in the world
who meant anything to him, and nodded. They'd
worked it out. He wasn't sure how and he didn't care.
He could leave it there, but though he knew what her
answer would be, he needed her to tell him as well.

"Am I the enemy. Crystal?" he asked.

She turned to face him, pushing her hair back off
her face as she moved, the warmth of her smile reach-
ing across the distance. "You never were."

There had been only one enemy in that war and
Crystal knew that better than anyone. But he still re-
leased a breath he didn't remember holding as her
words dissolved a bitter doubt he hadn't known he had.
He returned her smile with an equal warmth and then
tried to calm his pulse when she flushed and looked
away. He wondered how Jago would feel about looking
for more firewood.

Off in the distance, a wolf howled, the lonely sound
filling the night and giving all three a chance to regain a
little composure. Raulin threw another log on the fire,
Jago began rebraiding his hair, and Crystal began to sing.

122 TaayaHuff

•

It started as a formless kind of a hum, an outlet for the
emotions that threatened to overflow. She stared off at
nothing as the music began to form patterns and then the
pattern evolved into a song. It was an old song, from
before the Age of Wizards, a ballad of how the last of the
air elementals fell in love with a mortal woman.

Jago's fingers began to move to the rhythm of the
song. He remembered the last time he'd heard it; his
mother sitting in their one comfortable chair with her
old worn mandolin in her lap, Raulin sprawled on the
hearth replacing the leather strapping around the han-
dle of his dagger—replacing it with a strip torn from
one of his vests if Jago remembered correctly. That
had been about the last night they'd shared as a family.
Soon after, Raulin had been taken and he'd been gone
barely a month when their mother had died. The man-
dolin had been sold to pay for her pyre. He smiled as
he wound off the braid, holding only the memory of
that last night, letting the others go.

The centaurs had taught Crystal to sing as a means
of focusing her power. She went one step beyond on
her own.

Raulin's jaw dropped as, in the air over the camp,
the song came to life. In a tiny patch of clear blue sky,
Laur-anthonel swooped and dove and raced the wind.
His hair was the color of sunshine, his eyes a storm-
cloud gray. From the stunned expression on his broth-
er's face, Raulin assumed Jago saw the same. An arm's
reach away from the reality of woodsmoke and tram-
pled snow, Laur-anthonel exalted in his freedom as the
song named him more than mortal and less than god;

he ruled the winds, no one ruled him. For once more
aware of the wizard than the woman, Raulin relaxed
and let the music take him.

Crystal sang on, oblivious to anything but the song.
The goddesses, with no weakness to give them open-
ing and no calling to their aspects, remained quiet.

Enthralled, Jago stared as the tiny image of the Lord
of Air passed over the lands of men, heard singing and

ll^                        THE LAST WIZARD 123

?<•'
"•- stopped to listen—little knowing that he heard his

.,; doom as well.

s.     As the song changed, so did the vision; the blue sky

"   of Laur-anthonel *s domain replaced by a tower room
in a stone keep where the King of Valen's youngest
daughter sat at her loom and sang. The shuttle flicked
in and out as, with Crystal's voice, Kara poured out
her heart, weaving her hopes and dreams into the mu-
sic. Ten thousand years later, in the air over the camp
in the mountains, Laur-anthonel lost his heart again.
He paused at her window, and she, feeling the breeze,
turned and met his gaze. They exchanged a look so
piercingly impassioned that Crystal fell silent, fearing
the music might shatter it, and for an instant the im-
age, and that look, hung in the air alone.

Kara found her tongue before the Lord of Air, and
Crystal sang of her sudden love for this man who had
come in answer to her dreams. She let her own unde-
fined yearning seep into the music, lending Kara's
words a sweet poignancy. In the pause between verses,
as she drew a breath to continue, a strong rich baritone
took up Laur-anthonel *s response.

At first. Crystal thought the breezes sang with her,
for they often did, and then she realized, shocked, that
it was Raulin. She whirled to face him, the image in

^    the air fading as her attention moved from it. Still sing-
ing Laur-anthonel's pledge of eternal devotion, Raulin
raised an arm and indicated the barely visible lovers.
They firmed as Crystal let the music take her up again.

Laur-anthonel, Jago was certain, had never behaved
in such a way before for he could see the image of the
Lord of Air take on his brother's mannerisms. And his
brother's strengths. And, as the courtship progressed,
his brother's feelings. He wondered if he should be
watching such an outpouring of emotion, decided the
music excused him, and knew mat, right or wrong, he
couldn't leave before the last note faded.

Free to sing Kara's part alone, Crystal found herself
involved as she'd never been before. Her heart nearly

^    broke with Kara's anguish at what she thought was

124 TanyaHuff

love's betrayal and her spirit soared along with her
voice as love proved true in the end. She forgot Jago
listened, forgot everything outside the music, and sang
to Raulin only; her yearning no longer undefined.

When Kara and her love were joined at last, the
lines between the passion of the song and the passion
of the singers blurred. Their joy rose into the night
clear and strong, and then, as though they had re-
hearsed it, both voices fell to barely above a whisper
as they spoke their vows to love.

Never before, Jago thought as the final vow gave way
to silence. Raulin's voice wrapped around the core of
silver that was Crystal. And never again. An intensity
like that happened once in a lifetime and he thanked
the Mother that he'd been allowed to hear it.

As the crackling of the fire and the movement of the
trees surrounding the camp began to fill the quiet,
Raulin, never taking his eyes from Crystal's face, held
out his hand. Silently, for all that was necessary had
been said, Crystal laid hers in it. He pulled her into
his arms and bent his head to hers . . .

Jago shook himself free of the spell and for his own
sake, for he knew they had forgotten his existence,
went for a walk in the woods . . .

. . . where he discovered he had not been the mu-
sic's only audience.

"What can I give her to stand with that?" Lord
Death demanded. "How . . .*' He buried his face in
his hands and gave a long shuddering sigh. When he
looked up his face showed red from the pressure of
his fingers. "I can't even touch her, you know."

Jago nodded. "I know." Without thinking, he held
out his hand.

Lord Death stared at it until he drew it back, and
then, with only a small bit of the pain still in his face,
he left Jago alone in the night.

Behind him, from the circle of firelight, Jago heard
another song rise, the oldest song of all, and was glad
Lord Death had at least been spared hearing it.

Seven

A motionless silhouette against the winter's sky, the
giant faced into the wind and read the news from it.
The weather would hold, and that was all to the good.
Giants seldom worried about weather, able by both
sheer bulk and temperament to wait out the fiercest
storm, but she wanted to remain on schedule. Both
her pace and her path were carefully planned. She
would meet up with the wizard and her companions
close enough to the tower to be of obvious assistance.

A breeze ruffled her close-cropped brown curis and
she smiled at the information it volunteered. It seemed
mat at the moment the young wizard had little interest
in ruling the world and had found a more pleasant

pastime.

And I wish her joy of it, she thought, picking a care-
ful way down the steep and icy trail, for the Mother
knows she's had little enough joy in her life until now.

According to the demon's map, Aryalan's tower lay
north and west of the forest. As the sleigh could not
be maneuvered through the trees, the way due north
was closed. Therefore, they moved west for three days,
skirting the edge of the woods until the forest dropped
down into a valley which angled almost exactly in the
direction they needed to go.

"This." Raulin declared upon seeing it, "was oh

old frog-face's wall."

As Raulin remembered their path in greater detail
than either Jago or Crystal, and as the valley offered
125

126 TanyaHuff

shelter and obvious signs of game, they descended into
it, still following the forest.

Jago watched Raulin's and Crystal's backs and
grinned. They weren't holding hands, but they might
as well have been; he doubted he could slip a dagger
blade between their shoulders. Separated by the sleigh
and the length of the traces, he couldn't hear what they
said, but he had a pretty good idea they weren't whis-
pering lovers* platitudes. For starters, he didn't think
Raulin knew any.

As though aware of his thoughts. Crystal raised her
voice, "... because it's a woman's song and when
you change the lyrics so that a man can sing it you
change the meaning!"

Raulin's reply was pitched too low to carry back to
his brother but Crystal's response of "I am not being
sexist!" filled in the words. They disagreed without
the tentativeness of most new lovers and through that
Jago recognized the depth of their feelings. It sounded
remarkable similar to me way he and Raulin argued
and they'd had over thirty years together.

To his surprise, he felt no jealousy at this closeness.
Not of Crystal for coming between him and his
brother. Not of Raulin for monopolizing the only
woman they would likely meet for some time. Crystal
hadn't come between them; while they hadn't exactly
grown closer, the rising tension was gone. And Rau-
lin, he knew, did not demand that Crystal remain ex-
clusively with him. Their mother had raised them to
believe in a- woman's choice, and the brothers had
snared bed-partners before. Somehow, though, Jago
couldn't see himself with Crystal. It had nothing to do
with his mistrust of wizards; he'd lost that back in the
demon's cave and in a short time she'd become almost
as important to him as Raulin. That was it. She felt
like the sister he'd never had.

He watched her reach up to tug on Raulin's mus-
tache and nodded sagely. Yes, like a sister. His sister
and his brother and ... He shook his head and left

F                       THE LAST WIZARD 127

-c^

that line of thought dangling. Taking the analogy too
far dropped him into murky waters indeed. Enough
that they found pleasure in each other and that he in
no way felt excluded from their company because of

it.

Besides, the gear had never been in such good re-
pair. Now he went over it for at least an hour each
night before retiring to the shelter the three of them
still shared.

Crystal found Raulin both an enthusiastic and a con-
siderate lover, as straightforward and uncomplicated
in bed as out of it. She thanked the Mother-creator
that Jago approved of their relationship and treated the
inevitable silliness with amused tolerance. Two things
disturbed her. Avreen had made no attempts at free-
dom in spite of the amount of energy directed toward
her aspect. For that matter, none of the goddesses
made their presence felt during her nights with Raulin,
almost as if something blocked them out ...

I've seen more fire in wet wood.

. . . although Zarsheiy made a number of sarcastic
comments during the day.

She wasn't complaining, lovemaking had never felt
so, well, so complete, but Avreen's silence puzzled
her. The second thing that disturbed her was the con-
tinuing absence of Lord Death. Not for years had he
gone so long without appearing. In spite of the com-
panionship of both men, she missed him. He was, af-
ter all, her oldest friend.

Raulin had decided eariy in life that women and men
were not intended to understand each other. He there-
fore refused to analyze the experience during those
few times when they seemed to. He stuck to that prin-
ciple now. Lovemaking with Crystal lifted him to the
heights every night. He cherished it, he enjoyed it. he
didn't worry about it. Fortune beckoned, and he trav-
eled to it with a beautiful woman by his side and his
brother at his back. What more could any man ask for?

128 TanyaHuff

* * *

Their first morning in the valley, they crossed rabbit
spore three times, and once a huge buck, his head held
high under a majestic spread of antlers, regarded them
somberly for an instant before spinning and bounding
away.

"Snares tonight,'* Raulin declared, rubbing his
hands in anticipation, "and meat tomorrow!"

Crystal laughed, suddenly looking wild and fey.
"Meat tonight, I think."

Doan sprawled in the curve of a giant stone foreleg,
his brow furrowed in thought. He often came to the
Dragon's Cavern when he had a particularly knotty
problem to work out and wanted to be uninterrupted.
His brother dwarves had developed the habit of avoid-
ing the cavern when the dragon had been alive—not
from fear; a large dragon in a confined space in warm
weather smelled impossibly unpleasant—and now, al-
though the dragon curied about the center pillar had
returned to stone, the habit remained.

"I could." he said, "let the giant handle it." He
twisted into another position and drummed his fingers
against his thigh. It bothered him that the giants con-
sidered Aryalan's tower enough of a danger to get in-
volved. The notion that Crystal herself might be a
danger rather than in danger, he discarded completely.
He admitted, reluctantly, that the centaurs might have
reason for paranoia, considering how the last wizards
they trained had turned out. He also admitted, more
reluctantly still, that this wizard was an image of the
Eldest, of Milthra. the Lady of the Grove, and that
might, perhaps, be influencing his thinking.

Snarling at nothing in particular, he swung down to
the ground.

"Only one way to be sure," he informed the dragon,
slapping it affectionately on its sandstone nose. He
hitched up his pants and went to collect his weapons
from the forge.

"Heading off again?" asked a brother, glancing up

THE LAST WIZARD 129

from his anvil where a vaguely axehead-shaped piece
of iron glowed red hot.

Doan pulled his favorite sword off a wall where a
large number of weapons hung. It annoyed him that
so few of them ever got used. It annoyed him even
more that no one paid attention to his complaints.
"You got a problem with that, Drik?"

* 'Nope.'' The smith swung his hammer and the iron
sprayed sparks. "Just curious. This trip got anything
to do with the Call?"

"Might."

"I thought the Council decided to let the giants han-
dle it."

"Yeah, well you know what they say." Doan buck-
led on the swordbelt and settled the familiar weight
across his back, "if you want a thing done right, do
it yourself.'*

"Figure you'll need your sword?"

"What do you think, slag brain?" Grumbling be-
neath his breath that anything in Aryalan's tower would
be a welcome change, he picked up a dagger and
stomped from the room.

"Pleasure talking to you too, Doan." Drik called
after him, shook his head, and returned to work.

The huge white owl opened its talons, releasing the
hare it carried into Raulin *s arms. Raulin staggered a
little under the weight of the dead animal, then shifted
his grip and held it out by the ears.

"Fresh meat!'* he exclaimed.

"So I see." Jago set a pot of snow on the fire to
melt. "Are you going to clean it or do we spend all
night looking at it?"

Raulin tossed him the carcass. "You do it. You need
the practice."

"I'll do it,'* Jago agreed, pulling out his knife and
laying the hare on a patch of clean snow, "because
you are inept." He slit the belly and scooped out the
entrails. "You want these. Crystal?"

She stepped into the firelight and bent to pick up

130 TanyaHuff

her clothes. "Not now thanks, I just ate. Maybe
later."

"You know I consider you my heart's delight,"
Raulin said, watching her dress with deep enjoyment,
"but that's disgusting."

Crystal pulled the sweater over her head, her ex-
pression thoughtful. Lord Death had said much the
same the night things between them had fallen apart
so badly. Was he still angry with her? She hadn't seen
him since . . . since the demon's cave, weeks ago.
Uncertain whether anything could go wrong with the
one true son of the Mother, she still began to grow
uneasy at his absence.

"Crystal?" Raulin gently lifted her chin. "Please
don't look worried. I didn't mean it."

She managed a smile, pushing her concern for Lord
Death back out of sight. "It's okay." She snaked her
arms under his open overcoat and around his waist.
"When I'm not in feathers I find it pretty disgusting
too." Leaning forward, she kissed him hard and when
her mouth was free again, added: "I try not to think
about it." Which, she suddenly remembered, releas-
ing Raulin to pull on her boots, was exactly what she'd
said to Lord Death. All the concern came tumbling
back.

Best make up your mind, Zarsheiy taunted. The
quick or the dead.

What? Usually Crystal ignored her, but usually the
goddess' jibes made sense.

Poor child, don't you know your own mind? False
sympathy dripped from the thought.

That's hardly surprising. Crystal gave a mental
snort, since I've squatters in most of it. Her hair, she
realized as she straightened, curtained her face from
Raulin's view so she carefully schooled her features
before it fell back and he grew upset again. For rea-
sons unknown, it didn't seem right discussing Lord
Death with Raulin. Maybe if she had some time alone
with Jago . . .

THE LAST WIZARD 131

"That tickles." she said lightly, as he traced a fin-
ger along the edge of her left ear.

He grinned and winked. "You know. I've never
kissed a bird before."

"A number of birdbrains," Jago put in, skewering
the cleaned hare and setting it over the fire. He
shielded himself with the teapot as Raulin took a quick
step in his direction. "Hurt the cook and the cook
bums dinner!"

"As you're just as likely to bum it without my help
that's not much of a threat. I'll . . ."

They never heard just what Raulin planned as an
anthem of wolf howls drowned out his next words.
The three froze as the chorus climbed up the scale,
then faded.

"Great bloody Chaos," Jago breathed, trying to wet
his lips with a tongue gone dry.

"Great bloody Chaos* balls," Raulin expanded,
swallowing convulsively. "Both of them." He drew a
long shuddering breath and added, "In a sling."

Crystal clutched at a wandering breeze. "They have
us surrounded ..." She twisted, seemed to reach for
something neither brother could see, and threw up her
hands in disgust. "There's more, but it won't tell me."

She seemed frustrated rather than afraid, so the
brothers took their cue from her. They began to breathe
almost normally again. Raulin continued to stare into
the darkness, but Jago sank down to tend the fire.

"Think the meat attracted them?" Raulin asked,
trying to forget that howl despite the chills still run-
ning up and down his back.

"Perhaps." Crystal tossed her head. She stepped
toward the trees, then back, then twisted her hair with
her hands. "But there's lots of game around here. They
can't be hungry enough to approach the fire."

"Well, they haven't yet," Jago offered, pouring the
snow, now transformed to boiling water, into the tea-
pot, dumping it, tossing in a handful of herbs and
refilling the pot.

132 TanyaHuff

Suddenly, golden eyes glowed Just outside the ring
of light and then just as suddenly disappeared.

"And then again," he continued, his voice steady
but the hand that set the pot back on the coals shaking
visibly, "who wants first watch?"

"Wolves do not attack people." Crystal pronounced
each word cleariy and calmly, but whether she spoke
to convince herself, the brothers, or the wolves, not
even she was sure.

"Maybe they don't." Raulin admitted, his head
jerking back and forth as he tried to watch all direc-
tions at once. He pulled off his mitts and wiped his
now sweaty palms. "But they don't act like this either.
Jago, you take first watch. Crystal second. 1*11 take
last."

Not even Crystal's wizard-sight saw the wolves again
that night, but they continued to make themselves
heard. No golden eyes broke the darkness, but howls
shivered through the silence, time after time. Crystal
wove a net of power about me shelter, blocking the
noise so the two within could get some sleep.

Nashawryn stirred each time the wolves called.

Sitting alone on second watch, she fed wood to the
fire and power to the barriers that held the dark god-
dess confined.

At dawn, the howling stopped. Daggers drawn,
while Crystal stood by ready to help if necessary, Rau-
lin and Jago slipped into the woods and separated,
each circling half the camp. Just before they com-
pleted the circle, following tracks now deserted by
their makers, Jago dropped to one knee and beckoned
to Raulin. "Come take a look at this."

Raulin came, looked overJago's shoulder, and whis-
tled through his teeth. "Big bugger." he said, care-
fully noncommittal.

"Big bugger? That's it? Look at the depth of that
print!" Jago put his fist against the snow and pushed.
"This stuff's damp under the trees; it compacts. This
wolfs gotta weigh more than it should."

"I hate to break it to you. junior, but that's not our

THE LAST WIZARD 133

biggest problem. There's a track as large on the other
side of camp that wasn't made by any wolf."

Jago stood, brushing snow off his pants, his eyes
beginning to look a little wild. "Then what?"

"Looks like a cat."

"That big?"

"Uh-huh."

"You know what I think?"

"Uh-huh. You think you should've stayed home and
found honest work."

"How did you know?"

Raulin drapped an arm around his brother's shoul-
ders. "It's what you always think when our ass is in
the fire."

"Do we tell Crystal?"

"Only if you intend on living to an honored old
age."

"Good point."

They took one more look at the oversized print, at
the whole line of oversized prints, and headed back to
camp.

When told. Crystal looked thoughtful.

"What is it?" Raulin asked, buckling himself into
the harness.

"I don't..." She shook her head and bent to pick
up the other trace. "I've got the feeling I'm forgetting
something very important. Something someone once
told me."

"Oh, that's very definite." Raulin watcher her shrug
the harness on, leered, and reached out a hand. "Let
me help you settle that strap."

Crystal grinned, the thoughtful look vanished, and
she slapped his hand away from her breast. "Is that
all you ever think of?"

"Yes!" Jago called from his position behind the
sleigh. "It's all he's thought of since he turned thir-
teen. Now, can we get going before our visitors return
for breakfast?"

One silver brow rose. "Thirteen?"

Raulin threw his weight forward, straightening out

134 TanyaHuff

his trace with an audible snap. "So what're we going
to do, just hang around here all day? Let's go."

Except that the way was easier than any they'd trav-
eled for some time, the morning passed no differently
than others they'd shared. The quiet of a world muffled
in snow soothed ragged emotions and, gradually, night
terrors faded. They made good time, pausing only
once to rest, and covered nearly ten miles.

"Hey!" Crystal yelled at the brother's backs. "Let's
stop for lunch, I'm starved."

"... and a huge conservatory ..." Raulin spread
his arms, deep in his favorite topic of conversation;

spending the gold he knew they'd find at the tower.

"What do you want a conservatory for?"

"For plants . . ."

"I know that's what it's for, you uncultured boob, I
just couldn't figure out why you'd want one."

"Guys! Food?" Crystal tried again as Raulin swung.
Jago ducked, and neither heard her. She sighed, they'd
never hear her now. A strong tug and the metal prongs
of both brakes dug deep into the snow. The sleigh
stopped cold and she used just enough power to ensure
it couldn't move farther.

Raulin, being heavier, kept his balance. Jago's feet
took a step his body couldn't complete, his arms wind-
milled, and he sat down.

"Oaf," Raulin said fondly and extended a hand to
help him up.

Back on his feet. Jago turned to face Crystal, who
shrugged, and smiled.

"It got your attention," she pointed out. "Let's
eat."

Jago's stomach chose that moment to loudly express
its agreement. His mouth, open to deliver a blistering
retort to Crystal, closed. He unbuckled his harness.
"Well, I guess that's my vote. Raulin?"

The older man squinted into the sunlight then along
the direction they had to go. "We're making such good
rime . . ."

"We won't get anywhere if we faint from hunger."

THE LAST WIZARD 135

"True enough." He tossed his harness on top of his
brother's. "I'll be back in a minute."

As he walked into a nearby copse of trees he heard
Jago say, "You notice how he only has to go when
there's work to do?" Distance cut Crystal's reply down
to a musical murmur. Raulin grinned, the sound re-
minding him of murmurs into his chest, inarticulate
expression of contentment. He swung behind a scruffy
jackpine.

Crack!

The grin vanished and he froze, the image of giant
tracks in his mind's eye. The hair on the back of his
neck lifted and he felt himself watched. In the silence
he could hear the tree's needles rub together, a faint
shirk shirk that now seemed sinister. He managed to
do what he had to—the sound was not repeated—then
backed slowly out of the trees.

Branches, he knew, often cracked in the cold. He
really wished it was cold enough for that to be a valid
explanation.

Crystal looked up from the small blaze that heated
the ever-present teapot, and frowned. "Raulin, are you
all right?"

Jago snorted and tossed his brother a hunk of left-
over rabbit. "Probably left it out too long and it
froze."

"Something was in those trees with me." He kept
his voice matter-of-fact; no sense in causing panic by
frothing at the mouth.

Crystal stood to kick snow over the fire, but Raulin
stopped her.

"We still have to eat. And the fire's a weapon if we
need it."

Acknowledgment at last!

Shut up, Zarsheiy!

Conversation was strained and no one felt the urge
to linger over tea.

They hadn't traveled more than a couple of miles
when Jago held up his hand for a halt. "Raulin," he

136 TanyaHuff

called without turning, "did you by chance see what
joined you in the trees at lunch."

"No. Heard something. Why?"

"Because something is pacing us, something big and
black. I've caught sight of it a couple of times now."

"Last night's visitor?"

"Could be."

Crystal's eyes flared as she tried to see through rock
and trees and get a good look at their companion. Fi-
nally she gave up. "Wolves hunt at night."

"It isn't hunting, just following."

"Well, if it decides to move in . . ." Raulin un-
strapped an oilskin bundle and laid it carefully on the
snow. Squatting, he cut free the lengths of tarred rope
that held it closed. As he opened it and lifted free what
it contained, his expression was bleak. The crossbow
was a soldier's weapon, easy to manufacture, easy to
use. Raulin had been a soldier. He'd hoped he'd never
have to be one again. Memories of men and women
screaming and dying stirred. With an effort, he pushed
them back.

"Are you sure . . ." Jago began, recognizing his
brother's discomfort, knowing the source.

"Yes." He stood, slinging the deerskin quiver over
one shoulder, and shoved the oilskin on the sleigh
where the weight of his pack would hold it securely.
Letting the head of the bow fall forward, he hooked
the heavy bowstring with the cocking lever and shoved
the toe of one boot into the iron bracing ring. A hard
pull and the string snapped safely behind the trigger.

"Loading it too?"

"An unloaded bow is a fancy club." He heard the
armsmaster's voice in that and his lips curled into a
mixture of a snarl and a smile. He slipped a quarrel
into position and laid the bow carefully on top of the
load, the head pointed toward the trees at the left, the
stock inches from where his hands rested on the cross-
bar of the sleigh.

He looked up and met Crystal's eyes; met not un-

THE LAST WIZARD 137

earthly power, only concern and a question. So he
smiled, a real smile this time, and answered it.

"I'm okay."

She nodded and reached out her hand. Although the
length of the sleigh separated her palm and his face,
he felt her stroke his cheek, leaving a residue of
warmth and comfort behind.

"If you don't watch that," his smile quirked up into
a grin and he waggled his brows suggestively, "I'll
start howling myself."

The geography of the valley limited the sleigh to two
directions; forward the way they'd been going, follow-
ing a river course now buried under half a winter's
accumulation of snow, or back the way they'd come.
They went on. Crystal and Jago each kept one eye on
their path and one eye on the trees and scrub that lined
their path. Raulin followed blindly, trying to watch
both sides of the trail at once.

As though aware it had been spotted, the creature
pacing them took less care to remain unnoticed. They
beard it on occasion, the crack and crash of a heavy
body forcing its way through the brush, and once or
twice saw sumac sway and shake off its load of snow
as something unseen pushed past.

The sun sank lower in the sky, the trees began to
thin as the forest they'd followed for so long began
to end, and they reached a place where the slope to
the valley's edge ran clear.

"Higher ground might not be a bad idea," Jago
suggested as they paused to consider their next move.

"Maybe," Raulin agreed, "but that slope'll . . .
Chaos!"

A huge black wolf stood in the clearing. Teeth bared,
it growled.

It stepped forward and the growl grew louder.

Raulin's hand dropped down to the crossbow, rested
a moment on the stock, and lifted back to the sleigh
when the wolf moved no closer. Unless it attacked, he
wouldn't fire. He wasn't sure he could. "Let's move
it," he said quietly, throwing his weight against the

138 Tanyafiuff

crossbar and almost running the sleigh up the back of
Jago's legs. "Just keep it smooth and quiet and I think
we'll be all right."

As the wolf and the path from the valley iell behind,
Raulin felt cold fingers brush against his spine. He
knew those golden eyes continued to watch and he
kept his own locked on the silver sway of Crystal's
hair, fighting the urge to turn and walk backward,
keeping the enemy in sight. Enemy, he snorted to him-
self. Try to think of it as a big dog. You'll be happier.

A flash of black among the trees to the left and they
knew they were accompanied still.

"There!" Crystal called, and pointed.

A smaller gray wolf sped across a clearing on the
right and disappeared into cover.

"Two," Raulin grunted.

From the left a howl, and from behind an answer.
And then another. And then another. And then the
valley filled with sound. As the last echo died away
the sun slipped below the valley's edge and suddenly,
although true night was still hours away. shadows
ruled.

"Run!" Raulin barked, catching up the crossbow
and ramming his shoulder against the sleigh. "We're
too out in the open to fight."

So they ran. With wolves to either side and wolves
behind. Jago floundered on a patch of soft snow and
almost fell, but Crystal grabbed his arm and yanked
him back onto his feet. Forced off the river's path, they
scrambled up hills, heading due north into the rougher
going of the mountains.

Why aon 't they attack? Crystal wondered. What are
they waiting for? Sleek shapes, just on the edge of her
vision, kept pace but came no closer. The power
needed to protect Raulin and Jago would weaken the
shields and free the goddesses. She could only hope
that in leaving Zarsheiy would do more damage to her
enemies than to her friends.

Ahead of them waited a jumble of rock and a cliff-
face that rose eight to ten feet out of the mountain.

THE LAST WIZARD 139

"The cliff," Raulin panted. "Get our backs against
it!"

With the end in sight, they managed another burst
of speed.

The front curve of the right runner caught under a
rock and the sleigh slewed to a stop. The leather straps
dug into Crystal's breasts as dead weight caught up to
her and she plummeted to one knee, gasping, all the
air forced out of her lungs. Jago's runner kept moving,
spinning sleigh and Jago to the right, whipping both
feet out from under him. Raulin's chin slammed into
the crossbar and he bit his tongue. His eyes filled at
the impact but he stumbled forward, half blind,
grabbed Jago, and pulled him to his feet.

"Crystal!" He yelled. "The harnesses!"

A flash of green and the harnesses split.

Raulin pushed his brother on ahead and turned back
to help Crystal.

"The cliff, it's our only chance!"

Plunging forward, they almost crashed into Jago who
had stopped and stood staring at their intended refuge.
"I think not," he said quietly. Raulin and Crystal
rocked to a halt beside him.

The black wolf stood on the cliff top. Its teeth
gleamed white even in the dusk and its open mouth
made it look almost as if it laughed. Then it leaped.

Raulin raised the crossbow and pulled the trigger.

The wolfs scream, when the quarrel drove into its
haunch, sounded like nothing out of an animal's throat
and when the body hit the ground almost at Raulin's
feet. a young man snarled up at them—a young man
with thick black hair that grew to a peak in the front
and down to the center of his back like a mane. with
fierce golden eyes, with very white teeth, and with a
crossbow quarrel through one muscular thigh. As they
watched, he warped and changed until the great black
wolf crouched and worried at the arrow. A little blood
matted the fur. but the shaft blocked most of the
bleeding.

Jago's mouth worked, but no sound came out. Even

149 TanyaHuff

Rautin seemed to have nothing to say. And Crystal
finally remembered what had nagged at her all day.

Morning council in the Queen's pavilion the day af-
ter Halda had/alien to Kraydak 's Horde; Kly, the Duke
of Lorn's daughter, had tried to reassure Mikhail that
his sister, Haida's Queen, still lived. "The mountains
have hundreds of caverns and passageways, milord,"
she had said. "The wer have used them for genera-
tions. "

"Wer," she repeated aloud. "He's wer."

"Good guess, wizard. Jason, come here."

Still snarling, the wolf rose and trotted past them on
three legs, the uneven gait detracting not a bit from
his strength. Their gazes never left him and they turned
like puppets following his direction.

Four wolves, two mountain cats, and a man stood
between them and the sleigh. Jason, apparently ignor-
ing the arrow, went to stand at die man's side, his
injured leg tucked up, paw resting inches above the
snow.

The man was naked and shivered slightly in the cold.
In his hands he carried a rod almost two feet long
crafted of amethyst wrapped in bronze wire. His hair
grew like Jason's, proclaiming him kin, and his smile
was feral and most unpleasant.

"We don't like wizards on our land."

Kly's voice came out of the past again. "The wer
hate the wizards with an intensity hard to imagine. The
names of the wizards are curses to them.''

The rod came up, its bronze tip pointed at Crystal.

Her thoughts ran out like water; the harder she tried
to hold them the faster they moved. The void that re-
mained wrapped her in warmth and comfort. Her vi-
sion fogged. She swayed, felt Raulin's arms go around
her. felt herself slide to the ground. She heard Raulin's
roar from a distance, heard an answering roar from
one of the great cats, and saw a ginger colored blur go
past. Her head refused to turn, so she watched die
snow instead of the fight, deprived of the energy to
care.




THE LAST WIZARD 141

The fight finished before Jago had a chance to help.
The great cat returned to its position on one flank of
the group and Jago looked down to where Raulin
sprawled on the ground. He appeared winded more
than hurt. The cat's front paws had slammed into his
chest but done no real damage.

"We give only one warning, mortal. Move toward
us again and you die."

Jago forced his breathing to calm. Forced reason to
win out over anger. "What do you want?" His voice
sounded almost normal and only he knew what it took
to keep it that way.

"The wizard." The wer spat the word into the air.

Raulin struggled to his feet and tried to surge for-
ward but Jago grabbed his arm and held him back.
"Stop it, Raulin," he commanded. "You can't help
her if you get killed."

The man's upper lip lifted to reveal his teeth and his
eyes narrowed.

"You can't help her. You are no match for Hela
alone," the ginger cat looked smug, "and we bind the
wizard's power."

So that's what happened. Crystal thought muzzily.
She wondered vaguely if he bound the goddesses as
well, but it really didn't matter much.

A gray-brown wolf, almost matching Jason in size,
flowed into his manshape. "I will take her, Eli, as
Jason is injured."

Eli nodded, handing overthe rod. "Hela, Gel, watch
the mortals." Then he returned to fur.

As the man and both great cats approached, Jago
kept his hand on Raulin's arm, not for restraint, but
for knowledge; Raulin was the fighter. When Raulin*s
arm tensed, he flung himself forward, hand grabbing
for his dagger, seeing Raulin do the same only much
less quietly.

Gel met him in mid-leap. A forepaw hit Jago's head
with the force of a club, driving him to the ground.
His head rang. His vision exploded into orange and
yellow lights. He couldn't see or hear, so he slashed

142 TanyaHuff

out blindly at the musky smell. Claws ripped through
his mitten and into his hand. He lost his grip on the
dagger and barely felt the pain when another blow to
his head plunged him into darkness.

Raulin rolled as he dove forward, coming up under
the cat's attack, driving both feet into Hela's chest and
throwing her to the ground. Then he had his arms full
of claws and teeth. His dagger went flying. Bringing
her back legs up, Hela kicked, shredding his clothes.
Raulin screamed as the claws tore into skin. He lost
his grip on her jaw. Her teeth closed on his throat.

"Not good. not good." The giant shook her head
at the news the breeze had brought. She would have
to hurry.

Eight

"You're lucky the inner pack wanted you alive, wiz-
ard."

Alive. Crystal caught hold of the word and used it
to drag herself a little way out of the pain. She tried
to open her eyes, but even so delicate an action was
beyond her. Her arms dangled in air, her face bounced
against bare skin, something hard dug into her stom-
ach. She forced the information together. Carried over
a shoulder.

The shoulder dipped and she dropped onto rock.

New pain and old pain reinforced almost washed her
away once more, but she hung grimly onto awareness.

"Cap her," husked a distant voice.

Again she tried to open her eyes. The lids trembled
but wouldn*t rise.

Rough hands yanked her into a sitting position. Ribs
ground together. She whimpered and power flowed
sluggishly, responding to the hurt. A smooth band,
cold but too heavy to be metal, settled down around
her head. Another of the same stuff curved under her
chin and snicked into the first band just in front of
each ear. She jerked at the sound; very loud. very
sharp, and somehow very final.

The hands released her and she collapsed, the band
chiming musically as it slammed against the stone.
Her throat spasmed as she fought for air, sucking it
through her half open mouth. No air got through the
ruin of her nose. She tasted blood.

Slowly, very slowly, power began to smooth the jag-
ged edges. Her breathing eased and her body relaxed
143

144 TanyaHuff

enough to allow healing. She lay on her side, knees
up, arms pressed tight against her chest, and tried to
remember.

What had happened to RauUn and Jago? The wer,
she remembered, and the rod, and the binding, but there
her memories ended. Once over the gap, her thoughts
seemed clear enough. Had the binding worn off? To test
it she would have to reach for her power . . .

No. Best let the power continue repairing the dam-
age her body had taken. It would do that without her
interference and she didn't know what would happen
if she attempted control. She was a little afraid to try.

The wer, the rod, the binding . . . and what then?

Beginning softly, an eerie harmonic discord rose in
volume to bone shaking intensity. Not the wolves, this
was a scream not a song. Shoulders hunched against
the sound. Crystal brought her hands up and rubbed
at her eyes. She had to see. Something sealed her lids
shut. The upper layer crumbled under her touch. Most
of me lower, gummy and warm, scrubbed away. Her
lashes matted and stuck, but she managed to force her
eyes open.

Blood. Smeared across her palms. She touched one
eye again and the fingers came away red. Her blood
then. Better than the alternative.

The undulating cry went on. And on. And on.

What had happened to Raulin and Jago?

Gathering her returning strength, she placed both
bloody palms against the rock and pushed. Ignoring
the protest of her body, she managed to almost sit up.

She lay against the wall of a large, roughly circular
cavern. Flickering torches, jammed into random
niches in the stone, barely lit the space. In the center
of the cavern, a number of the great cats surrounded
a flat topped boulder. Muzzles lifted, the cats wailed.
On the boulder were two black . . . things.

Crystal remembered.

The wer had hoisted her up and bent to sling her
over one shoulder, moving her line of sight to include,
for me first time since she'd fallen under the rod, Rau-

THE LAST WIZARD 145

tin and Jago. She saw the cats attack. She saw the
brothers go down. She heard Raulin scream. That had
penetrated the mists sifting through her mind. Still
outwardly blank, still bound by the rod, deep within
her head she'd raged and torn at the walls of her prison.

Something gave.

The cats had burned.

And not with an external flame that could be doused
but from inside, with goddess fire. The cats had
screamed and thrashed as they died, torment flicking
them through change after change. The wolves had cir-
cled and snaried but found nothing to do until Jason
had flowed into his manshape, hobbled forward to
where Crystal lay limp and exulting and had beaten
the wizard senseless-
In the cavern, the cats fell silent and began to move
away. Two changed and lifted the bodies from the
boulder. One followed his kin, the other approached
Crystal, the charred remains held tenderly against his
chest. A body-length away he stopped and stared down
at her with topaz eyes.

"You killed my mate," he said.
' Crystal refused to let his grief throw her into guilt.
Straightening as much as she could, she stared back
at him. "She was killing mine."

He hissed and spat, then turned his back on her and
walked from the cavern.

Carefully, Crystal leaned back, easing her weight off
her arms and letting the wall support her. She stretched
out her legs, the movement hurting less than she'd an-
ticipated. The worst of me pain seemed over, but the
healing went on and would for some time. She saw
that her feet were bare, and rubbed her cheek against
the sweater's shoulder. The brothers lived, for their
places within her were still filled, but they were also
injured and she had no idea how badly.

If they die because of you, she vowed silently to the
wer, you shall see what wizardry is capable of.
* * *

146 TaayaHuff

"Mortal, wake! You cannot die if I refuse to take
you!"

Jago stirred and regretted it. He opened his eyes and
shut them instantly. The moonlight seemed to bum
holes in his brain.

"You try my patience, mortal!'*

Squinting, although the action hurt his head, Jago
managed to focus on an auburn-haired man, whose
amber eyes flashed with anger.

"Lord . . ." He swallowed and tried again. "Lord
Death?"

"Jago?" Raulin's face pushed into his line of vi-
sion. He didn't look right somehow. "Jago, wake up!"

"S'what he said."

"Who?"

"Lord Death."

"You're not dead!"

Jago pulled in a shuddering breath. "I know. Hurts
too much.*' He figured out what bothered him about
Raulin; the skin of his face seemed almost gray. "You
don't look too good."

Raulin's mouth twisted. "You should see the other

guy."

Jago rolled himself up on one elbow. The worid
spun, the insides of his head with it, and he spewed
all over the snow. He felt Raulin's arm around his
shoulders and when his guts stopped heaving, his
brother lowered him gently back down.

"You think you can lie quietly for a few minutes?"

The stars began to whirl. "I don't think I've got a
choice." He refused to close his eyes, and concen-
trated on making the stars behave. Somewhere over to
the left, he heard Raulin banging things together
loudly. Very loudly. Much too loudly. The sound
bounced about the inside of his skull setting the stars,
which had just begun to calm down, jigging once
more. He wondered where Lord Death had gotten to
and . . .

"Crystal!"

"Take it easy. Let's try sitting again, I brought a

THE LAST WIZARD 147

°,

pack for you to lean on." As he spoke, Raulin eased
his brother up, very slowly, until he reclined against
the pack.

Jago clenched his teeth against the nausea and
sucked in lungful after lungful of cold air. His head
stopped spinning and settled into a steady, tormenting
throb. Answered by a sharper throbbing ... He raised
his right hand and looked at a mangled ruin.

The throbbing turned to die bundle's roar, teeth dug
into his legs and . . . No! He got control of himself,
although his legs continued to ache in memory. He
met Raulin's worried eyes, Raulin who no doubt sus-
pected what he was thinking, and searched for some-
thing to say that would ease that look of strain.

"I guess," he said at last, "I won't be playing the
^   harp any more."
^     "You can't play the harp," Raulin said gruffly.

"Then I guess I won't be playing it any less."

Raulin's relieved smile was all Jago could've asked
for and he managed a small one of bis own.

"Here," Raulin wrapped the fingers ofJago's good
hand around a warm mug, "drink this while I ban-
dage."

Jago took a cautious sip, recognized the bitter brew
as a painkiller from their emergency kit, and relaxed.

When Raulin saw Jago actually drinking the potion,
he turned his attention to the mangled hand. The great
cat's claws had ripped through'skin, and flesh, and
hooked down into the tendons. Several of the small
bones had been displaced and one knuckle barely re-
mained attached. Shreds of tissue were white with
frostbite for the hand had lain half buried in snow.
Miraculously, most major blood vessels seemed in-
tact. Ignoring Jago's groans, Raulin rebuilt what he
could and wrapped the whole tightly in clean linen. It
was a better field dressing than any he'd had time to
do during the war. He appreciated the irony that ex-
perience gained in such wholesale slaughter had twice
now come to Jago's aid. Not that this in any way com-
pared to the brindle.

148 TaayaHuff

"You know," he said, tying off the end, "when your
head starts working again, this is going to hurt like
Chaos."

"It already does."

"Good."

"Good?"

"If it can hurt, it can heal. Can you move your fin-
gers?"

The fingers moved a little although Jago turned gray
with pain during the attempt.

"What happened?" he asked. Just managing to keep
the scream from breaking through.

Raulin laid Jago's hand gently in his lap. "Well, it's
my guess, they didn't have Crystal bound as tightly as
they thought 'cause when we went down those cats
started to bum. Think you can stand? Your clothes get
wet from sitting in melting snow and you're going to
be a lot worse off."

Jago remembered not to nod. "Yeah. I think so."

With an arm around Raulin's shoulder, Jago got
slowly to his feet and stood swaying until the world
steadied, then the two of them made their way over to
the sleigh.

"Probably a good thing you'd already gone out,"
Raulin continued, "because the smell of those cats
burning . . . Anyway, I flopped over and played
dead." His voice grew grim and much colder than the
winter night. "I could still hear what they did to Crys-
tal."

"She lives."

Jago turned to face Lord Death who walked at his
other side. "I know." The bond between Crystal and
himself had not broken.

"They dragged her off. I saw where they entered the
mountain." Raulin had either not heard his brother or
had assumed the words were directed to him. "And
we're going after her as soon as you're steady on your
feet."

"The two of us against a mountain full of wer?"

THE LAST WIZARD 149

Jago asked as they reached the sleigh and Raulin re-
leased him.

"Yeah."

"Should be interesting."

The smiles they exchanged came from a lifetime of
standing together. Some things got done regardless of
the odds; this was one of them.

Raulin brushed the clinging snow off his brother's
back and helped him into his huge fur overcoat. Jago,
who'd just begun to notice a creeping chill, sighed
thankfully and sank down on the front of the sleigh.

He watched Raulin strip their gear to bare essen-
tials, his grip on the world not yet strong enough to
help. "What about you?"

Raulin snorted and pulled his scarf down off his
throat. Almost invisible in the beard stubble were four
punctures, two on each side of his windpipe. "Teeth
had hardly touched," he said, "when the cat started
to burn and lost interest. I got off light."

"Only because he ignores the rest of the damage."

"He what!"

Lord Death nodded and Jago whirled on Raulin who
stared at his brother, completely confused by the sud-
den outburst.

"Open your coat!"

"Why?"

"Just do it!"

Raulin sighed and slowly unhooked the fasteners.
Under his coat, the clothing he'd been wearing hung
in tatters. Under his clothing, eight angry, red lines
marked where Hela's claws had torn through to skin.

"Only scratches, I swear." He tried to close the
coat, but Jago glared it back open.

"Get me the emergency kit."

"Look . . ."

"Get it!"

He got it, then stood almost still as, one-handed,
Jago pulled bits of cloth from the cuts, all at least a
quarter inch deep and most already looking pink and
inflamed. Two started bleeding sluggishly again as the

150 TanyaHuff

scab holding the remains of Raulin's shirt inside the
wound came free.

"Cat scratches,** Lord Death said, as Jago reached
for the roll of linen, "often become infected. You'd
better disinfect those.**

Jago nodded thoughtfully and reached instead for
the bottle of raw alcohol.

"Now hold it. what're you going to do with that?'*

"What do you think?" Jago asked, pouring some
of the liquid on a cloth balanced on his knee. "That
mess has to be cleaned.'"

"Not with that stuff, it doesn*t." Raulin backed
away, but Jago grabbed a comer of his coat.

"Knock me over," he warned, "and 1*11 have a re-
lapse."

Raulin sullenly stopped moving.

Jago nipped the coat open again and wiped at the
scoring with the alcohol laden cloth. "Stop squirming.
Cat scratches often become infected.**

"Says . . . CHAOS! . . . who?"

"Lord Death."

"When did he become a ... DAMMIT JAGO! . . .
healer?"

"I am the Great Healer," said Lord Death quietly.
"Mortals come to me when all other healers have
failed."

"What did he say?"* Raulin could tell by Jago's
expression that the Mother's son had answered the
question himself.

"He's expounding philosophy. If you'd stop dancing
away, this'd go faster and we could start after Crys-
tal."

Raufin growled an inarticulate curse but stood mo-
tionless while Jago finished.

Lord Death watched Jago's ministrations with a
number of emotions warring in his breast. He needed
Raulin reasonably healthy to rescue Crystal, but he
resented the time spent on healing when every mo-
ment Crystal stayed with the wer put her in greater
danger. He hated the thought that these mortals could

THE LAST WIZARD 151

attack the wer without his help and he could do little
without theirs. And a very small part of him enjoyed
Raulin's pain.

A linen bandage soon covered Raulin from armpits
to waist. Although exposed flesh rippled with goose-
bumps, he only shrugged his coat closed. Putting on
freezing cotd clothes underneath it would do more
harm than good at this point. A fire would draw the
wer. The small campstove threw heat only to the cook-
ing surface; not enough to warm clothing.

"I'll be okay," he answered Jago's silent question,
bending to complete the packs. "The coat's warm
enough for fighting."

Jago nodded, there not being much else he could
do, and in a little while Raulin helped him into his
pack. He tried to ignore Lord Death whose patience
appeared to be growing short.

"He won't need that,** Lord Death snapped as Rau-
lin settled his own pack and loaded the crossbow.

"Why not?" Jago asked, waving Raulin quiet.

"Because I will lead you to Crystal on paths the wer
do not walk."

"You?"

"What's he saying?*' Raulin demanded.

"He says you don't need the crossbow. That he'll
lead us to Crystal on paths the wer don't walk."

"He will?" Raulin turned over the idea. Lord Death
could see the wer, but the wer couldn't see him. Jago
could follow his direction and he, Raulin, could follow
Jago. ' 'It might work.'' He unloaded the bow and hung
it from his pack by the quiver, out of the way but near
to hand. His brow furrowed. "Ask him if . . ."

"He can hear you," Jago interrupted.

"Yeah, well . . .'* Raulin straightened and spoke
where Jago pointed. * 'If you can get in and out of there
without being seen, why do you need us?"

"Tell your brother," Lord Death said to Jago, "that
I cannot carry Crystal if it comes to that." He paused
and fought to keep anything at all from showing on
his face or in his voice as he added, "He can."

152 TanyaHuff

* * *

Crystal sat alone in the cavern for what seemed a
very long time. She ran her fingers lightly over the
band on her head and decided it was the same material
as the rod. It fit snugly, almost as if it had been made
for her head. It was a power binding of some kind, of
that she was certain. Tentatively she reached in and
directed the healing that still went on. Her power re-
sponded.

Cautiously, she manipulated and tested and discov-
ered that everything appeared to be under her control.
Her shields had remained up and not even Zarsheiy
was missing. That surprised her, for there had been
nothing containing the fire goddess when the cats had
burned. Nor could she understand why Zarsheiy stayed
so silent; this situation should've called forth scathing
remarks.

She's sulking.

Crystal recognized Tayja's voice.

The link between you and her and Avreen was so
strong that she found herself back behind the barriers
before she could even think of freedom.

Avreen worked with me ?

Of course, child, you 've given her ample reason to
stay.

Crystal felt herself flush. Raulin. She sighed and
wondered if Raulin realized they had more of an au-
dience each night than Jago, who patiently killed time
by the fire. She touched the places the brothers held
in her heart, knew they continued to live, and reached
out with her power to call them.

Pain.

Screaming and writhing, she clutched at her head.
Hot knives drove into her brain. A vise tightened and
crushed. Then, as suddenly as it began, it stopped.

"So you have discovered what the cap can do."

Gasping, she scrambled back into a sitting position,
her fingers tearing at the bands.

The old wer who stood over her smiled. "You can-
not remove it," he said. "and if you try to use power

THE LAST WIZARD 153

against it, or to augment your strength, or in any way
it finds your actions aggressive," he shrugged, "you
now know what will happen. The wizards," his lips
curled back in a snarl of pure hate, ' 'built their devices
of torment well." He nicked a hoary nail against the
cap. "With this they could keep their fellows captive,
healthy, whole, and helpless. You cannot use your
powers to escape."

Hoarse from screaming. Crystal rasped, "They
made this to use on each other?"

He spread his hands. "Who else has power to trap?
As the wizards grew more powerful, their only adver-
saries were each other. Did you not destroy the only
other one of your kind?"

"That was different!"

"He is still dead."

"I'm not like other wizards!"

"I see no difference."

Crystal worked her weight up the wall until she stood
looking down at him. Small things hurt, but even her
nose had begun to function again. She could smell the
heavy animal scent of both the caverns and the wer
who faced her. Basically, she was whole. For now.
"Why," she asked with dignity, "am I alive?"

"Now? Specifically?" He slid his hands beneath the
loose poncho he wore, a piece of clothing easy to slip
out of in wolf form. His smile showed a broken tooth
and dripped with malice. "We've waited many gen-
erations to catch a wizard. To visit on you some of the
torment your kind laid on us. When we escaped during
the Doom, we stole what toys we could. One brought
you low. One you wear."

"But I had nothing to do with your creation ..."

"It doesn't matter!" He spat the words. "You are
wizard!"

For an instant a craggy gray wolf stood before her,
its lean and hollow flanks jutting from the poncho.
Pale eyes blazed with rage. Then the old man stood
there again, breathing heavily through his nose, obvi-
ously fighting to keep his emotions under control.

154 Tanya Huff

"It's been thousands of years,** Crystal said.
shaken, "why do you still hate wizards so?"

"You see," he snarled, "but you do not under-
stand." He turned and began to walk across the cav-
ern. "Follow. I will make you understand. And then
you will begin to pay."

The wolf on guard at the entrance to the wers' tun-
nels reclined, head on paws, half asleep. Young and
complacent, sure the wer were the only predators in
the valley, the attack took him by surprise. In the brief
struggle, he nicked into his manshape and Jago
slammed him behind the ear with his dagger hilt. As
he fell, he became wolf again.   *

"We can't tie him," Jago pointed out, grabbing him
by the forelegs and dragging him away. "If he changes,
the rope will slice his hands off.' *

"Do you care?" Raulin asked, remembering the
sounds of heavy feet and fists pounding against Crys-
tal.

"He's just a kid . . ."

Raulin sighed. "Yeah, I guess."

They blocked the tunnel, hoping more to slow the
guard than to stop him entirely.

"What if he doesn't try to follow and just goes for
help."

"This is the only way into the valley from the moun-
tain," Lord Death explained, eyeing the rock pile im-
patiently. "If he goes for help, it will take him some
time and accomplish the same thing as far as we are
concerned."

They advanced into the mountain, their eyes adapt-
ing in the darkness enough to pick out the darker shad-
ows that marked companions. Moving as quietly as
they could, Rauiin followed Jago who followed Lord
Death who made no noise at all.

Not a great deal of time had passed when Jago flat-
tened against the rock. Raulin mirrored the move a
second later. They'd come to a fork, one branch black
and deserted, the other lit—although the torches

THE LAST WIZARD 155

burned so far apart they gave a twilight effect at best.
No sounds came from the inhabited passage but given
the freshness of the torches, wer could not be far.

Lord Death walked forward, passed the torch, and
disappeared into the gloom.

The brothers waited. And waited.

Raulin wrinkled his nose against the overpowering
odor of pine. He picked a crushed needle out of his
mustache and fought the urge to sneeze. Not many
walking pine trees in these parts he'd pointed out when
Lord Death had suggested they hide their scent.

And there are no mortals at all. Lord Death had
pointed out in turn. The wer will react less to the smell
of pine than the smell of meat.

Meat. Raulin hadn't wanted to ask.

Jago started as Lord Death stepped out of air in front
of him. The movement jarred his hand and he bit back
a curse.

"I suggest you keep it quieter," Lord Death warned.
"We are reaching the inhabited sections of the moun-
tain and must go carefully. Come, this section is safe."

They passed the first torch and came to a small cave
angling back into the rock. Faintly, over the smell of
pine clotting their noses, came the musky scent of cat.
The brothers froze.

Lord Death, no longer sensing them following,
stopped, turned, and glared. "I said it was safe. They
will not wake for some time, I have touched their
dreams."

His mouth close to Raulin's ear, Jago repeated Lord
Death's words.

As they moved on, Raulin shook his head. Dreams
touched by Death, he thought. Nice.

The old wer led Crystal to a small cavern spilling
soft lamplight into the tunnel; a higher level of tech-
nology than any she'd yet seen. Jason's wolfshape lay
across the door, not on guard for his attention was
turned within. When he caught their scent, he whirled.

156 TanyaHuff

rising into manshape with the move. Gray paste cov-
ered his arrow wound.

"What are you doing here, wizard?" he growled.

"I brought her, Jason."

"Why?"

*'Tb show her why we hate."

A whimper from the cavern and Jason's hands
clenched into fists. His golden eyes filled with fury.
"Show herrrr." The last came out more growl than
word as the great black wolf trembled with the effort
not to attack.

Another whimper spun him back into the cavern.

"Go.** The old wer pointed and Crystal stepped
forward.

The cavern, the size of a large bedchamber, held a
low table and a stool, rough shelves cut into the rock
walls and filled with carvings of wer in all their shapes,
and a large box bed, heaped high with furs. The lamp
sat on the table, close by the bed. An ancient woman
knelt by the box and crooned, soft and comforting,
too low to be beard more than a few feet away. The
young woman on the bed was obviously in labor.

"In the eariy months," the old wer said softly in
Crystal's ear, "the mother's changing does no harm,
but after the wolf is ready to be born she must stay in
womanshape to carry the mortal half to term. If she
changes, the child and usually the mother as well dies.
This is the torment the wizards gave us; strong emo-
tion sets off the change outside of our control. Sur-
prise, anger , . ." He paused and the woman on the
bed whimpered again as a contraction rippled her
swollen belly. ". . . pain."

"Then why ..."

"Our lives are long and in wolfshape me urge to
mate is very strong. Although wer did not ask to be
created, neither do wer wish to die. Do you wonder
why we hate you?"

"The cats . . ."

"Arc more indolent by nature so their time is a little

THE LAST WIZARD 157

less hard. They have three males for every female. We
have five."

Even as Crystal recognized the singsong cadence of
the crooning, she saw the trance it was meant to main-
tain fail.

"Jason?" The young woman's eyes tried to focus as
the pain pulled her out of her hypnotic state.

He poked his nose into her hand and she clutched
at it, then stroked the cheek of a worried young man.

To Crystal's wizard sight the fingers of the hand
seemed shorter than they should and the russet hair
grew too thickly across the back.

"No!" she cried aloud, heard an answering cry
within, felt the shattering of a goddess bond, and be-
gan to move.

The Eldest of the Elder Races had a part in Crystal's
making and with Milthra's strength she met Jason's
charge and hurled him aside.

When she reached the bed she was already singing,
throwing power into her voice regardless of what the
cap would do. She rested one hand on the woman's
head and the other on her stomach and sang her an
easing of pain. The change, barely a heartbeat begun,
stopped. The fingers grew longer, the hair less. Then
Crystal went deeper, wizard and goddess acting as one,
touched the core of the wer. found the flaw, and healed

it.

The cry of a newborn blended for a moment with
her song, then it continued alone.

When Crystal raised her head, wer jammed the door,
drawn by the use of power.

"What ..." The old wer spread his hands search-
ing for the words.

Crystal swayed, the place where her power had been
was an aching void. The fire, the repairing of herself,
and now this; she had nothing more to give. "I healed
her. She controls her changes now."

"How? The cap ..."

"The cap works to prevent escape." Her head
throbbed and the places beneath the cap felt bruised.

158 TanyaHuff

It had reacted to the power, but it hadn't tried to stop
her.

"Why?"

Crystal looked at the girl-child sucking lustily on
her mother's breast, squirming as her father licked her
clean. "I am not like other wizards," she told him,
and tumbled into the void.

Lord Death stopped, head cocked as though he lis-
tened. "Lives. A number of them," he said suddenly,
waving Jago toward one of the small caves. "Hide
there until I return for you."

Jago pulled Raulin through the arched doorway, a
small portion of his mind noting that it could never
have been naturally carved. "Someone's coming," he
hissed in explanation. "Hide."

They pressed up against the wall where the angle
was too sharp for them to be seen from the passage,
packs pushed hard into the rock. They heard the ques-
tioning cries of puzzled cats first, and then the soft
thud of pads running on stone. The sounds grew
louder, filled their ears, then faded.

Raulin relaxed his grip on his dagger, silently re-
leased the breath he'd been holding, and sagged against
the wall. The wounds under his bandages ached. He
stretched, trying to remain flexible but, knowing he
was stiffening up. He felt Jago still tensed beside him.

"What is it?" he leaned over to whisper.

A nervous smile glimmered briefly. "I started
thinking about all the rock piled up above us."

Raulin bit back a laugh. "With all the things we
have to worry about..." After the strange half-light
of the tunnels his eyes adjusted quickly to the greater
gloom of the cave. He saw the sweat sheen Jago's face
and touched his brother's arm. "These mountains have
stood for thousands of years, they'll last a few hours
more."

Jago nodded. He plucked at the simg holding his
injured hand immobile against his chest, and forced
his thoughts away from the great weight of stone they

THE LAST WIZARD 159

moved under. Crystal needs you. Think of Crystal.
From deep in his mind came a wisp of song. He sighed
and the knots in his muscles eased.

"Hey." Raulin leaned over one of the shadowy bun-
dles that almost filled the cave. "Tanned hides."

Intrigued, Jago moved beside him. The comer of
hide felt butter soft between his fingers. "Trade
goods?'* he guessed.

Raulin shrugged. "Makes sense."

"The danger has passed. Come.'*

"He*s back?" Raulin asked, reading Jago's reac-
tion.

"Yeah." Jago tried to calm his pounding heart as
he rose and turned. Lord Death stood in the entrance,
the light from the passage igniting copper strands in
his hair. He cast no shadow into the cave.

"Things have changed," said the Mother's son, his
expression unreadable. "We must hurry."

"I can't decide; are you brave or stupid? I mean,
considering that you expected the cap to fry your
brains."

Crystal tried to focus. Browns and blues swam in
front of her and finally arranged themselves into a
young girl with wild chestnut curis and cornflower
eyes. She didn't look much like one of the wer.

The girt grinned.

Pale greens swirled about in soothing patterns and
Crystal realized where she was. "I'm not awake."

"Out cold." agreed the girl. "Your power is slowly
rebuilding but for now, you're stuck here."

Crystal's stomach spasmed. "I'm starving."

"You surprised? You better hope they feed you soon
or, even after you regain consciousness, you'll be mush
for days." The girl spun about. "The others can't get
this high in your head with no power to use, but I go
where I want."

"Are you trying to get free?"

"Maybe. Maybe not."

160 TanyaHuff

"You're Eegri." she smiled, despite the hunger, as
one long lashed lid dropped in a saucy wink.

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"You weren't the one who ..."

"Don't be ridiculous," Eegri snorted, "I don't do
babies." Then she looked thoughtful. "Not after the
initial gamble. No, you broke Sholah loose with that
stunt, shattering the remaining matrix. Geta's still
sulking, but the rest of us are rummaging about quite
separately. So," she drew her legs up and sat cross-
legged on nothing, "answer my question. Brave or
stupid?"

Crystal considered it for a moment, weaving a strand
of hair through her fingers. "I guess." she said at last,
"you could say I took a chance."

Eegri stared at her, then burst into peals of laughter.
"I like you, wizard!" Her smile fell on Crystal like a
benediction and a delicious smell filled the air. "You
got lucky. They're feeding you."

Her mouth flooding with saliva, Crystal felt herself
pulled back to consciousness. "Did you do that?" she
asked the fading goddess of chance.

Eegri's smile hung on an instant longer. "Maybe.
Maybe not."

Crystal opened her eyes to see the ancient woman
who had knelt by the birth bed. In age-twisted hands,
she held a large clay bowl filled with heavy porridge.
Her gray eyes, while not kind, were at least neutral.

"You saved my granddaughter and her child," she
explained. "Eat."

She backed quickly away as Crystal grabbed up the
bowl and began shoving handfuls of the warm food
into her mouth. Then, recovering, the wer admonished
sharply, "Eat slower. You'll choke." Male voices from
the passage admonished her in turn, but she snarled
them into silence as she left.

Crystal felt the rumble of moving rock, and ignored
it, concentrating on the food. The porridge only just
took the edge off her hunger, but its weight was a

THE LAST WIZARD 161

comfort in her stomach, and when the bowl had been
licked clean she felt able to look around. She was in
a small cave, about eight feet square, and a single
torch was jammed into a crack by the door—by the
blocked door. She got up, put her palms against the
stone, and pushed. As she expected, nothing hap-
pened.

"I am going to get my strength back," she mut-
tered, sitting back down, "and then I am leaving. Cap
or no cap."

Lord Death sped down the passageway, Raulin and
Jago keeping up with difficulty. "Soon we'll come to
a short passage that leads to the central cavern. Cross
the passage quickly and quietly. The wer meet to de-
cide Crystal's fate."

"Meet where?" Raulin wanted to know when Jago
had echoed the information.

"Where do you think," Lord Death said coldly
without turning.

"In the central cavern," Jago translated.

"Wonderful," Raulin muttered and reached behind
him for his crossbow.

The passage was indeed short. Crossing it, quickly
and quietly as instructed, the brothers could cleariy
hear the debate going on in the cavern.

". . . healed Bern, we let her go."

"And who will heal my daughter when her time
comes? No! We keep the wizard chained to do our
bidding as her kind once kept us!"

"Wizards are the pain givers. Kill her!"

"She healed Beth!"
-"But why?"

"Wizards can't be trusted, her reasons ..."

The voices faded in the distance. They ran about a
hundred meters along secondary passageways until
Lord Death stopped before a roughly circular boulder
pushed tight against the rock wall. "She's behind
this."

Raulin shook his head, put his shoulder against the

162 TanyaHuff

curve, and pushed. The boulder rocked. He bent and
studied the floor. "Grooved,'* he said, standing.
"Can't be moved from the inside, but the two of us
should manage fine. Jago."

With a sound like half the mountain falling, the huge
stone rolled out of the way.

Raulin straighted up and took a deep breath through
gritted teeth. He waited until the pain smoothed out
of his face, then ducked into the cave, his eyes half
closed as though afraid of what heU find.

Jago leaned a moment longer against the stone.
Lucky they're arguing too hard to hear that, .he
thought, following his brother through the opening.
We won't get a chance like it again.

Raulin had caught Crystal up in his arms, ignoring
his injuries as he pressed her against his chest, and
covered her face with kisses. "I knew you were alive.
I knew it.'* But the shadows in his eyes said he'd had
his doubts.

Crystal's fingers danced over every bit of Raulin she
could reach.

He touched the cap and his expression hardened.
"Is that what they hold you with?"

She drew his hand away, not allowing him to see
how his tugging at the band sent slivers of pain into
her head.

"We've got to get out of here," Jago said softly.
She turned to face him then and he felt her Joy, less
demonstrative than her response to Raulin, but just as
deep,

"You're both injured. I have no power ..."

"It doesn't matter," Jago told her, wishing he could
wipe the helplessness from her voice, "we have no
time either. Come on."

The three of them stepped back out into the pas-
sageway and Crystal froze.

"You've come back."

Lord Death smiled hesitantly at her. "I couldn't
leave you in the hands of your enemies."

"But . . ."She looked from Raulin to Jago.

THE LAST WIZARD 163

"I brought them to you." When she stepped toward
him, the smile vanished, and he turned away, feeling too
exposed with Jago watching. "Now, I will take you out."

Crystal quickly hid the hurt but not before Jago saw it
and vowed to have a word or two with the Mother's son.

They traveled as quickly as they could, tossing cau-
tion aside with all the wer accounted for in council.
The air freshened, the light changed subtly, and at last
they could see the silver of moonlight on snow.

"It's still the middle of the night," Crystal mar-
veled, sagging against Raulin with a sigh. "It feels
Uke it should be days later."

"Well, we've cut days off our time," Jago told them
peering out into the night. "We've come out on the
opposite side of the mountain."

Just then the faintest of howls drifted up along their
trail.

"I think," said Raulin, propelling them out of the
mountain, "you've been missed."

They fought their way down the icy slope, almost
blinded by the sudden brightness. The howls grew louder.
Four legs move much faster than two, especially with in-
juries and a long night beginning to take their toll.

"Leave me and save yourselves!" Crystal cried as
a sharp edge cut into her bootless feet. She stumbled
and fell to her knees.

"None of that," Raulin snapped, pulling her up.
"We stay together, all of us."

As they ran, his arm tight about her waist, she left
a bloody trail on the ice.

Jago tripped on a hidden branch and reached out to
steady himself on an oddly shaped outcroppping. His
fingers clutched at cloth.

"Gaaa . . ."

"Gently, mortal, I will riot hurt you." The giant
picked up Raulin and Crystal who had careened into
an outstreched arm, and drew all three of them against
the shelter of her body. "You are safe. There is no
longer any need to hurry.'*

And then the wer were upon them.

Nine

Crystal buried her face against the giant's warm side
and refused to think about the wer howling around
them. Her power had dropped to such a level that her
bare feet actually throbbed with cold. Raulin and Jago
were both wounded and she could do nothing for them.
Hunger tied knots in her stomach. Her head hurt. One
more thing and she'd break down and cry. She'd deal
with the wer later.

Raulin enfolded Crystal protectively in his arms. The
giant still held them loosely and he felt as if they'd
reached a safe harbor. Let the wer slaver and growl,
he was certain that the giant could take care of them.

Jago sagged and whimpered as his weight fell for-
ward on the ruin of his hand. A gentle grip lifted him
and settled him comfortably against a massive thigh
and a soft touch along his back eased the pain. He saw
his brother and Crystal safe against the giant's other
side, thanked the Mother-creator for their good for-
tune, and relaxed.

The wer circled, two dozen wolves and half that
number again of cats. They moved constantly, a seeth-
ing wall of eyes and fangs gleaming in the moonlight,
with here and there a pale flash of skin quickly clothed
again in fur-

The giant sat patiently, held their prey, and waited.

Finally Eli padded out of the pack and shifted to his
manshape.

"You have something that belongs to us. Elder," he
called.

"Yes," she said, her slow, pleasant voice neither

164

THE LAST WIZARD 165

acknowledging the wer as a threat nor threatening them
in turn, "I believe I do. You may come in and remove
it from the wizard's head and we shall be on our way.''

Eli looked puzzled, then he caught sight of the cap
lying deeply purple against the silver of Crystal's hair.
"Not that toy," he snarled. "The wizard."

"But she can't belong to you. One person can't own
another. If I remember correctly, that's what your peo-
ple cried out to the wizards who tried to own you."

"She is a wizard!" Eli almost screamed it. "The
wizards kept us in torment. Created us so we would
always exist in torment!" His emotions overcame him.
He flowed back into wolfshape and raised his muzzle
to the moon. The pack joined in.

The giant waited silently until the echoes of the howl
finished bouncing back off the mountains, then said,
"What you say is true, but as this wizard had nothing
to do with that and is in fact younger than a number
of you I fail to see your point."

Another wolf rose to two legs and growled, "We
could take her."

"You could try," corrected the giant gently. "I
wouldn't advise it." A quiet certainty radiated with
the words, lapping over the wer, calming them. When
most had stilled, she raised her voice, just a little. "I
am taking these children to my camp. You may spend
the night outside in the dark and the cold watching if
you wish, but we will still be there in the morning. If
you have anything else to say, you may say it then."

"We can't just let the wizard go," wailed a man-
shape of one of the cats.

"I said, we will be there in the morning."

He opened his mouth, closed it, snapped back to
fur, and began vigorously washing a hind leg.

"Can you mortals walk?"

It took the brothers a second to realize that she was
speaking to them.

Raulin*s chest burned with lines of fire. but he nod-
ded. "Yes. I can."

"Me too,** Jago straightened, taking elaborate care

166 TanyaHuff

not to jar his hand. He was beginning to have fond
memories of the mauling he'd taken from die brindle,
at least he'd been out through most of that.

"Then follow in my footsteps," she said, standing
and scooping a semiconscious Crystal up in her arms.
"I will always take the easiest path. Don't worry,"
she added comfortingly, ignoring the wer who scram-
bled out of her way, "it isn't far."

They looked at each other, they looked at the wer—
who appeared more confused than aggressive—and
they did as they were told. Her huge footsteps were
easy enough to follow, even in the uncertain moon-
light. Jago estimated her height at close to twelve feet
and at most only four of that was leg. As tall as she
was, she actually looked taller sitting down.

It isn't far can be a dubious statement when uttered
by a giant, but she led them only a short way down
the mountain to where she'd set up her camp within a
small copse of trees. In the center of the clearing a
fire burned, and on the embers at the edge of the fire,
just beginning to steam, sat a teapot.

Jago started. It looked like their teapot; but theirs
had been left with the sleigh on the other side of the
mountain. Except—his eyes bulged a bit—wasn't that
their sleigh drawn up on the far side of the fire? And
that shelter . . .

"Uh,Raulin. . ."

"Yeah. I see, I see."

The giant laid Crystal gently down on the sleigh,
turned, saw the brothers' bewilderment, and smiled.
"The breezes told me where to find your equipment,
so I brought it with me when I came. Now," she
squatted by the teapot and filled three enamel mugs,
"drink this and shortly you may sleep."

Raulin stuck his nose over the mug she'd handed
him, and sniffed. The painkiller from the emergency
kit and something else. He took a cautious sip. Rasp-
berries?

"Doesn't taste like goat-piss anymore," Jago mut-
tered.

THE LAST WIZARD 167

"No reason why it should." pointed out the giant,
leaving Crystal, who after a number of mouthfuls was
managing on her own. "I can do nothing for your
hand," she told Jago sadly. "It is beyond my skill.
But in the morning ..."

He nodded. "Crystal can take care of it." That
thought had kept him from screaming hysterics or
black despair all night.

"But you," she advanced on Raulin, "you, I can
soothe." She nipped open his coat and had the old
bandages unwrapped before he had time for more than
a single yelp. Clicking her tongue at the flaming red
lines, she fished a flat metal container from a pocket,
and spread the ointment it contained over the wounds.
Even before she finished they looked less angry. She
cocooned him in fresh linen, and pulled one of his
spare shirts, warm and soft, over his head. Lifting the
empty mugs from two sets of lax fingers, she pushed
the brothers toward the shelter.

"The wizard will join you when she's had some-
thing to eat," she admonished as they hesitated.
"Sleep."

"Well, I'm not going to argue with her," Raulin
muttered, dropping to his knees and crawling inside.

Jago half turned, gave a small bow in the giant's
direction, and followed.

"Now," she loomed over Crystal, "first we will
remove this ugly piece of work." Her large hands cir-
cled the cap and she added, "Ito sorry, child, but this
may hurt." Then she pulled.

Crystal's back arched and she tried not to cry out
as, with a crack that seemed to shatter her skull, the
band broke. Panting, she collapsed back on the sleigh
as the giant methodically snapped the polished ame-
thyst into tiny pieces. "Please," she said, when she
thought she could control her voice, "I need food."

"Yes, of course you do." The giant placed a large
biscuit in Crystal's hand.

Crystal took a tentative bite, sighed, and crammed

168 TanyaHuff

the rest into her mouth. When she finished swallow-
ing, the giant handed her another.

"I haven't had these since the centaurs," she said
through a mouthful of crumbs. The taste conjured up
wild runs across the plains; the thunder of hooves
pounding against the ground, the smells of centaur and
upturned sod blending and becoming one, her hair
blowing into a tangled cloud as she clung to a broad
back and rode down the wind. She could feel strength
seeping back. **I could never get enough of them."

"I think you've had enough at present," the giant
chuckled. "Just one of those horse-cakes could keep
your teachers fed for a whole day. They may, as the
dwarves assert, be pompous and pedantic," she said,
sliding her arms under the wizard and carrying her
over to the shelter, "but they can cook."

Crystal yawned, suddenly more tired than she'd been
since her battles with Kraydak. "Have you a name,"
she asked.

"I have a number of names. Today, I am Balaniki
Sokoji."

"Sokoji," Crystal repeated, crawling inside.
"Pretty. I like it." She snuggled down between the
brothers and fell asleep with Raulin's arms about her
and Jago's breath warm on the back of her neck.

"Good morning, Sokoji."

"Good morning, Crystal, wizard. How do you
feel?"

"I have less power back than I expected to," she
shrugged, "but I had more power to replace than I'm
used to." She stretched and smiled. "I guess I feel
fine."

"Good." Sokoji bent over the fire and stirred the
porridge that bubbled and steamed. "Come and eat
and you'll feel better still."

Crystal, her feet healed during the night, glided for-
ward an inch above the snow. She reached out, caught
a plume of woodsmoke rising lazily on the still mom-
ing air and from it formed herself new boots.

THE LAST WIZARD 169

"It would be more practical," observed the giant,
"to visit a cobbler."

"It would," Crystal agreed, accepting a huge por-
tion of the oatmeal and nodding her thanks. "But by
the time I realized that, there were no cobblers
around." As she ate, she told the giant everything; the
first time she'd heard the voices in her head, the heal-
ing of Jago, her fight with Lord Death when Zarsheiy
nearly broke free, the demon, agreeing to accompany
the brothers to Aryalan's tower, and the wer. She didn't
know why, exactly, but she felt Sokoji should know.

Sokoji sat immobile while Crystal spoke. Much of
the story, she knew. The goddesses, however, she
would have to think on. They were an aspect even the
centaurs had not considered.

"Crystal?"

She turned to see Raulin crawling out of the shelter.
his bandages brilliant white in the morning sun.

When he spotted her and saw that she was all right,
his worried expression vanished. "I woke up and you
weren't there ..." he said, spreading his hands. He
reached back inside for more clothing, but Crystal
stopped him before he could put it on.

"Wait," she said, wrapping warmth about him. "I
want to look at your chest."

"It doesn't even hurt anymore," Raulin began, go-
ing to her side. He noticed me giant sitting motionless
on the other side of the fire. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine," Crystal assured him, undoing the
dressing. "Her name is Sokoji and she's thinking. Lift
your arms."

He did. "She looks like she froze during the night."

"The centaurs once took me to visit a giant. She sat
like that the entire two days we stayed- Apparently
she'd been thinking for almost six years."

"What about?"

"No one knew."

The eight parallel lines on Raulin's chest no longer
looked dangerous. Although the cuts themselves had
not healed, the flesh around them appeared healthy

170 TanyaHuff

and firm. Crystal set her fingertips just under the col-
larbone where they began and, humming softly, traced
each line. The wounds glowed briefly green and van-
ished. Then her hands moved a little lower.

"Crystal! We're not alone!"

"Prude."

"Whoops! Excuse me if I'm interrupting."

Raulin flushed deep red and pulled the heavy un-
dershirt, still clutched in one fist, over his head.

Jago tossed him a shirt and sweater, grinning
broadly. "I noticed you hadn't got dressed this morn-
ing. Guess now I know why."

"You don't know anything, you little ..." Raulin
stopped in mid diatribe, his eyes widening. "Your
hand!"

Both Jago's hands were whole.

"That's two I owe you," he said softly to Crystal,
his eyes bright with emotion. "Thank you."

*7 have less power than I expected to." And she
had no memory of healing Jago. As it healed her when
she needed it, whether she directed it or not, her power
had also healed him, using the life-bond between them.

"Come and eat," she said, suddenly unsure of what
this closeness would demand of her. "Power alone can
only do so much."

As the brothers ate under Sokoji's unwinking stare—
Jago having been reassured as Raulin had been—Crystal
spotted movement in the trees and went thankfully to
meet it.

Raulin rose in protest but Jago dragged him back,
mouthing the words "Lord Death." He'd sensed Crys-
tal's discomfort, knew it had something to do with him
and Raulin, and wished, not for the first time, that
Lord Death had a more corporeal form. As much as
he had grown to love the wizard, Jago suspected that
her kind could never be happy with mere mortals.

They stood silently for a moment, Crystal gazing
down at the branch in her hands and stroking the

THE LAST WIZARD 171

needles, and Lord Death staring off at nothing, then
they both began to speak at once.

"Please, go ahead."

She hesitated but realized he would not speak until
she did. "I missed you," she said at last. "What kept
you away?"

"Would you have me sit at night and keep company
with them?" Even to his own ears, he sounded bitter.

"Why not? You've sat with me in mortal company
before."

But I meant more to you than the company then, he
thought to himself. Ironic isn 't it that someday those
two will die and be mine and you 1 can never have.
All he said aloud was. "No."

"Have I upset you somehow, I ..."

Her distress at his refusal showed in both face and
voice and while he cursed himself for hurting her, he
also marveled that he could. "Two mortals, a giant,
and a wizard make a crowded campsite." That to
lighten the no. And then he took a chance. "But if
you want me, step away from the fire and call."

"And you'll come?"

"If you call me," he reiterated, meeting her eyes,
wondering why he put himself in such a position, "I
will always come." What if she never called? What if
she did?

Crystal heard a deeper meaning beneath his words
and knew she could probably force it out. But did she
want to? Was it something that could survive being
dragged out and totally revealed between them?

Not yet, murmured a voice.

Idiot, snapped another.

"You must do something about the wer," said Lord
Death, not totally unaware of the turmoil he'd caused
and pulling away from it for his own sake.




"What?" The sudden change of subject caught
Crystal off balance.

"You cannot leave them as they are when you can
heal them."

"The changes?"

172 TanyaHuff

"Yes. You can right a very great wrong." Young
women and infants, faces feral and in great pain, flick-
ered across his features.

She shook her head, hiding behind a curtain of silver
hair until he wore his own face again.

"I am Death, Crystal, and often I seem cruel, but
these have been robbed of even a chance at life. I am
not as cruel as that. Too many come to me too young.' *

She thought of the power it would take to heal so
many, how her shields would weaken. She thought of
the goddesses breaking free. She opened her mouth to
say she couldn't, looked at Lord Death and knew he
expected her to say she would. Although he had seen
the excesses of the ancient wizards, he had never, she
realized suddenly, expected her to follow their path.
Free my people, were the first words he'd ever said to
her. She would not have Heal the wer be the last.

"I will heal them," she said and felt that his smile
of approval well rewarded her for the risk.

When Crystal returned to the campsite, Raulin and
Jago sat nervously watching the giant who, as far as
Crystal could see, hadn't moved.
"I have to speak to the wer," she said.
"Are you crazy?" asked Raulin, standing and strid-
ing over to her. He took hold of both her shoulders
and gave her a little shake. "You barely escaped from
them with your life. Go near them and they'll zap you
with that rod again."

"They won't dare, not while Sokoji is with us."
"In case you hadn't noticed, Sokoji is not with us."
"I am only thinking, mortal. I am not dead."
Crystal suppressed a smile as Raulin paled. She
gently patted his cheek and whispered, "Don't worry,
they're used to it." Sliding out from under his hands,
she crossed the camp until she stood at the giant's
knee. "I need to speak with the pack. Will you come
with me?"
Sokoji nodded. "I will."
Crystal raised her voice slightly, turning her head so

THE LAST WIZARD 173

she faced the trees beyond the giant. "Then I will
speak with the pack, the entire pack, when the sun has
moved a handspan in the sky. They will speak with
me because they remember what I did for Bern. The
Elder will see that we both, the pack and I, are no
threat to each other."

A shadow separated itself from the shadows of the
forest and moved off toward the mountain.

"I knew it," Raulin muttered, still a little rattled
by the giant's sudden return to awareness. "I knew we
were being watched."

One handspan of the sun later. Crystal stepped out
of the trees and faced the wer, the giant on her right
and the brothers on her left.

' 'You can't leave us behind. Crystal,'' Jago had said
quietly. And he was correct. She couldn 't.

The wolves had grouped in the center of the slope,
the cats in their regular flanking position to each side.
Of the sixty-two wer assembled, all but two walked on
four legs. A young woman stood at the back of the
pack, warmly dressed in leather and fur, holding a
squirming bundle in her arms. It had to be Both. A
great black wolf wove about her legs, every now and
then whining and sticking his nose in the bundle.

"You will not, of course, be using that," Sokoji
called out.

Crystal followed her gaze and saw the amethyst rod
between the forepaws of a wolf she thought she rec-
ognized as Eli.

"We will not use it if we are not attacked," Bern
replied, settling the baby more securely in her arms,
"but we must be able to defend ourselves. Elder."

Sokoji looked unconvinced. "I would prefer it with
one less likely to use it."

Beth shrugged. "Eli is hunt-leader."

"It doesn't matter, Sokoji." Although she spoke to
the giant. Crystal's voice carried up the mountain.
"I'll give him no reason to think his people under
attack."

"And if he uses it anyway, I'll rip his tail out and

174 TanyaHuff

strangle him with it,'* Raulin muttered, not at all com-
fortable standing so exposed before the wer.

Crystal ignored him and continued. "I have only one
thing to say. If you wish it, I will remove from the
women the flaw of the ancient wizards and heal them
all as I healed Beth, a gift they will pass on to their
daughters."

The silence on the mountain was so complete the
sun could almost be heard moving across the sky. For
different reasons, Raulin and Jago were as shocked as
the wer. Only Sokoji seemed unaffected.

Then one of the cats changed and a tawny-haired
woman with eyes as green as Crystal's asked suspi-
ciously, "Why only the women, wizard?"

"That is my flaw. I am sorry, but I have nothing in
me to touch the men."

"No!" An old man crouched on the mountainside.
"Each generation we grow more stable, some of the
younger ones are able to walk with mortals and keep
them unaware of what they are. We don't take anything
from wizards!"

"Some? Two! Two only!"

"Each generation we grow fewer!"

Bodies shifted out of wolf and cat all over the pack,
ignoring the cold in the need for a voice.

"What good is it, if she cannot change the men?"

"It's women who die!'* screamed a girl, barely in
her teens. The male wolf beside her bared his teeth
and growled. She slipped into wolfshape, rolled on
her back and exposed her throat, but before he could
close his teeth on the soft fur Jason threw himself be-
tween them and cuffed the male away.

"She's right," Jason snarled, taking on his man-
shape but looking no less furious, "it is the women
who die. This is their choice. Not ours."

"But what of us." whined the male, shifting only
long enough to form the words and not rising off his
belly,                                                t,

"It is too soon to tell, but I think," Jason looked    f
back at Beth and his features softened as he met her    I?

THE LAST WIZARD 175

smile, "when the women have control, it will help us
remain calm."

"And what do you want for this great gift, wizard?"
Eli stood, the rod dangling from his fingers.

Crystal's face hardened.

"I want you to ask me. Come to the camp when
you've reached a decision."

Then she turned on her heel and headed back into
the trees.

The brothers held their peace until they reached the
camp but only just-
crystal, you are out of your mind! They almost
killed you and you want to help them?" Raulin
stomped about, one hand twisting at his mustache, the
other waving in the air. "Put yourself at risk for
them?'1

"They are women and children, Raulin." She ex-
plained about the random changes and what that meant
to childbirth. Her shoulders squared. "I can't allow
such suffering to continue when I could banish it."

"And if the goddesses break free while your power
is elsewhere?" Jago asked quietly.

"Sholah, I know, is with me in this."

We cannot leave them as they are, agreed the god-
dess, although only Crystal could hear her.

"And the rest'll shatter you into nothing!" added
Raulin, still driven to stomp around the clearing by
the force of his emotions-

"I'll take that chance."

"No." Lord Death's quiet tone carried a finality
just bordering on the melodramatic.

"Listen, Crystal," Raulin began. Sokoji laid a mas-
sive hand on his shoulder.

"Gently, mortal, let the Mother's son have his say.
He seems to agree with you."

"What? Is he here?" Raulin glared up at the giant.
"And you can see him too? Oh, great." He threw
himself down on the sleigh beside his brother. "Well,
maybe he can talk her out of sacrificing herself."

176 TanyaHuff

"Maybe he can,** Jago murmured, watching Crys-
tal, watching Lord Death.

"I didn't realize what I asked of you." Lord Death
told her, his eyes locked on her face.

"I'm ashamed you had to ask." Crystal flushed.
"For all my talk, I am more like the ancient wizards
than I suspected."

"You needn't do this to prove yourself to me."

She smiled. "I'm not. I'm proving myself to me."

He nodded slowly and she saw he understood.
Something blazed for a moment in his eyes, something
that caused her heart to pound and then both it and
Lord Death were gone.

Raulin got to his feet and Jago, knowing his brother
was neither as brash nor as insensitive as he pretended,
wondered what he would say, even having seen only
Crystal's side of that conversation.

But, concern the single emotion in his voice, Raulin
only said, "Can't it wait? Just until you get the god-
desses under control?"

"And if I never do? Should I let more innocents die
because I'm afraid to take a risk?" She cupped her
hands, letting them fill with sunlight, then wove a gar-
land out of glowing golden strands. With a disdainful
toss of her head, she let it dissolve. "Do I spend the
rest of my life using only enough power to do pretty
tricks? I am the only one who can help them. They
need me."

"We need you, Crystal."

"No," she corrected gently, "you want me and as
wondrous as that is, it isn't the same thing. If I turn
my back on the wer, I am no better than the wizards
who created them, denying the responsibility of my
power."

He lifted her hand to her lips. "Then I will stand
with you and do what I can to help."

Jago rose and took her other hand between both of
his. "I also," he told her.

Crystal's lower lip trembled and she blinked rapidly.

THE LAST WIZARD 177

"Idiot," Raulin said tenderiy, and drew her into his
arms.

The centaurs wrought better than they will ever be-
lieve, Sokoji thought. And I hope I am there when this
wizard-child comes to believe it herself.

Later that day, while Crystal and the giant were deep
in discussion, Jago went to his brother and demanded
an explanation.

Raulin looked up from the harness he mended—
Crystal's method of releasing the buckles had turned
them into slag—and raised both brows. "An expla-
nation of what?" he asked-

"Don't give me that, brother, you've never been
good at hiding what you feel- Why no response to
Crystal's conversation with Lord Death?"

"I gave her the only response I had."

Jago snorted.

Raulin sighed. "Look, Jago, you're a complicated
man, I'm not. I'm her lover and her friend, but I've
never fooled myself that I'm her love. In a lot of ways,
you're closer to her than I am." He shrugged and
reached for his dagger. The metal wouldn't pry free,
he'd have to cut the leather. "As for this morning,
well, I don't see as it changes anything. I'll share her
bed for as long as she'll have me and when it's over,
I'll thank the Mother-creator that I knew her."

"I thought you loved her ..."

"Of course I do. So do you. And she loves us both."
He grinned and winked. "Although in different ways.
But there's too much to her for just you and me. We
couldn't hold her and we shouldn't try to. Close your
mouth now, and pass me the repair kit."

Jago did as he was bid and then picked up the other
harness. "I guess I underestimated you," he said,
turning the straps over in his hands.

"I guess you did," Raulin agreed. "You forgot, I've
got hidden depths." He looked smug. "It's why I al-
ways get the girls."

"They feel sorry for you," corrected Jago, ducking
a wild backhand, and more relieved than he could say

178 TanyaHuff

that when Crystal finally found her own heart she
wouldn't be breaking Raulin's.

That evening, just before the sky grew dark enough
for stars, the wer came with their answer- Only Beth,
Jason, and their daughter actually entered the camp,
but it didn't take wizard-sight to spot the rest out un-
der the trees.

Her head high, Beth ignored everyone but Crystal.
She walked across the clearing as if she owned it. The
baby rode in a sling across her chest and she kept one
arm curied protectively around it. The other arm hung
by her side, hand resting on Jason's head. She stopped
in front of the wizard and gray eyes looked fearlessly
into green.

Raulin stepped up to stand behind Crystal's right
shoulder, facing the great black wolf-
Jason growled.

Raulin growled back.

From that moment on, they ignored each other.

"Have you come to a decision?*' Crystal asked, try-
ing desperately not to laugh.

"We have." Beth's mouth twitched as well. She took
a deep breath to steady herself, during which time
Crystal also gained control, "Will you heal us, wiz-
ard?" she asked simply.

Crystal nodded. "I will."

"There are three other packs ..."

"Them too.*'

"They can be here in a quartermoon."

"Then in a quartermoon, no female wer will be at
the mercy of the changes again. I will heal all of you
then."

The sling^ wriggled and a tiny fist fell free to flail in
the air, turning to a tiny paw as it waved.

"Get down, Jason," Beth admonished as his nose
got in her way. She tucked the arm in safely, and
looked back to Crystal. "Thank you," she said. For
my life and my daughter's, not what you may, or may
not, do in a quartermoon. Then she turned and they
walked away from the camp.

THE LAST WIZARD 179

* * *

During the week of waiting. Crystal spent a lot of
time with Sokoji. The giant's presence calmed the
goddesses, lessening the constant struggle to keep
them confined. They discussed the healing and once
Crystal went into the trees and told the startled sentry
she needed to talk with a woman who knew how wer
children learned to change.

Beth's grandmother answered the summons, her
womanshape so wrapped in leather and fur she could
barely walk. She eased herself down by the fire and
accepted the offered mug of tea.

"Yes, it'd be damned uncomfortable to change,
dressed like this," she said in answer to Crystal's star-
tled expression, "but at my age emotions know their
place." Her face creased as she thought of two babies
born dead. "Now it no longer matters, I change when
I want. You got any honey for this tea?"

"I'm sorry," Jago told her, "we're out."

"I'm sorry too. Tea without honey is an abomina-
tion." She sipped, made a face, and decided the
warmth made up for the taste. "You wanted to know
how the children change?"

As Crystal had suspected, the random changes were
necessary in the young, giving the parents a way to
teach with stimuli, a sudden cuff snapping the child
into the desired form. Only with the female's first heat,
did it become dangerous.

Raulin and Jago occupied themselves with butcher-
ing a young buck Eli and his hunters dragged into the
camp.

"We don't want you hunting on our land," the wer
snaried, "and anything you intend to waste, return to
us."

"Very gracious," muttered Raulin.

"Very," Jago agreed.

But they were careful to return what they couldn't
use to the pack.

The weather held, cold and clear, and the quarter-
moon passed.

180 TanyaHuff

* * *

Crystal stood, silver and ivory in the moonlight,
surrounded by wer. Of the three hundred gathered,
less than one hundred were female; Beth and Jason's
daughter the only child.

"Is this all of you?" she asked, when they had set-
tled into place and the only movement was the slap of
tails on snow.

"No." A young woman stood shivering in the cold.
"My sister has reached the time of no changes and
could not travel." She looked as though she wanted
to add something, then shook her head and flowed back
into wolfshape.

So few. Crystal thought sadly. If only she had done
this sooner. If only they had come to her, asked for
her help—but they were too blinded by hate to con-
sider it. As far as the wer were concerned, the wizards
were the pain givers and her defeat of Kraydak did not
erase the fact that she was a wizard. She sighed, griev-
ing for all the lost ones, then reached for her power
and began to sing. Her hair fanned out around her, the
moonlight dancing down each strand.

The wer pricked up their ears and waited.

Crystal's eyes began to glow a deep summer's green
as she poured power into her voice. She felt Sholah
join her, merge with her, and the song changed as the
goddess* wisdom gave it form. As it spread, radiating
outward. Crystal spread herself with it. becoming a
part of the power, becoming, in a way, both the singer
and the song.

For an instant, the females listening heard not with
their ears but with their hearts, and during that instant
Crystal's power touched them and remade the fatal
flaw.

The power built until the air thrummed with it and
still Crystal sang.

The song changed again. Crystal began to reach. All
the females of the wer had been her promise, not all
but one.

THE LAST WIZARD 181

The wer were forced to avert their eyes, so brightly
did she reflect the moonlight.

From the sister, she picked up the blood tie and
followed it back over the mountains. Back. Back. Her
power stretched, thinned; she began to pull from the
barriers. There! The thought patterns of the wer were
unmistakable. She touched the woman gently. The
barriers wavered. She could feel Zarsheiy waiting for
mem to fall.

The woman started, perhaps sensing the wizard's
touch, and the change began.

Crystal stopped the change, held it, and reached fo
power to complete the healing.

The barriers fell.

FREE! Zarshiey surged forward.

And slammed into a wall of darkness.

The wer are mine. Nashawryn's cold voice filled
Crystal's head, cutting through Zarsheiy's screams of
frustration. Feared by mortals, hunters in the night; I
give them my protection. Finish what you have begun,
wizard, I stand by you.

Crystal reached again for power and found, even
still linked with Sholah, that no power remained for
her to tap, it was all tied up in the other goddesses.
The other goddesses . . .

Keeping a careful hold on the change. Crystal slid
into the woman's mind searching for the love she held
for the child she carried.

Clever, murmured Avreen, and gave up the portion
of power she controlled.

The song finished.

Crystal let her body pull her home.

Ten

From where Lord Death stood, the figures grouped
around the sleigh were tiny. Even Sokoji appeared no
more than two or three inches high. He watched the
giant reach down and lift the sleigh over a rocky ledge
and frowned. She was the reason he watched from so
far away. Unlike Crystal and the mortal, who could
see him only if he wished it—although if one did, they
both did—the Elder Races, so close in creation to the
Mother, could see him whether he liked it or not. And
he did not like it, for Sokoji always drew his presence
to Crystal's attention. Which meant he had to appear
to her as well. . . .

Which meant they talked. . . .

And every conversation seemed to skirt dangerous
topics; his feelings, her feelings, their feelings. And
every conversation had Jago and the giant listening in,
drawing conclusions, trying to bring into the open mat
which he preferred to have remain hidden.

So now he took the coward's way and watched from
a distance.

Crystal laughed at something Jago said, and Lord
Death ground his teeth. Once, he remembered with a
bitter smile, he'd encouraged her to spend time with
mortals. Had, in fact, given her Jago*s life and with it
Raulin's gratitude. And now, Jago gave her the com-
panionship she used to share with him, and Raulin . . .
He looked down at his hands. Raulin gave her the one
thing he never could. Even Sokoji placed one more
life between them; another living creature, to listen
and to help.

182

THE LAST WIZARD 183

"If it was just the two of us again," he murmured
at the wizard's distant figure. He could tell her then.
If when he finished speaking she didn't have another
pair of arms to turn to that were not his nor ever could
be.

He no longer wondered what madness had directed
him when he said he would answer her call. He had
named it the night she'd risked everything and healed
the wer because he had asked her to.

"I am Death," he told a passing breeze. And I am
in love. And it hurts. He sighed and shook his head.
"This is your doing, father," he added aloud. The one
true son of the Mother had been fathered by Chaos but
never throughout the millennia since his birth had he
felt so chaotic.

In midaftemoon, between one moment and the next,
the world turned gray and almost all the light van-
ished. Close objects took on a sharp-edged clarity and
distant ones disappeared into a merging of snow and
sky. For an instant, everything fell completely still,
waiting, then the wind came up in strong and random
gusts that whipped Crystal's hair about and threatened
to knock the mortals off their feet.

"There," Sokoji pointed. "The best I think we have
time to find.'*

There, was a small triangular cut in the mountain,
about ten feet deep and almost that across its open
end. It offered protection on three sides from the com-
ing storm.

"I think you're right," Raulin agreed, squinting
against a sudden flurry of snow. "Let's move, peo-
ple."

They secured the sleigh across the open end, for
only by wizardry could they have fit it inside. By the
time they'd wrestled up the shelter, anchoring it firmly
within the mountain, the world had turned white and
the air was solid with snow.

"Will you be all right out here?" Crystal yelled at
Sokoji above the shriek of the wind.

184 TanyaHuff

"Of course I will. child." The giant folded her legs
and settled herself comfortably against the rock wall.
She pulled a hat out of her pocket and tugged it on. It
looked like a bright red bird's nest overturned on her
head. "I shall sit here and think." Brushing the al-
ready accumulated snow off her lap, she linked her
hands and stilled.

Crystal reached out and patted the giant's knee af-
fectionately.

"Hey, come on!" Raulin grabbed Crystal's shoul-
ders and spun her about. "Get inside before you get
buried. Or lost."

"Lost?" They took the three steps across the cut,
from the giant to the shelter, together. "How could I
get lost?"

"Storms are tricky." He pushed her to her knees
and held open the outer flap. "Get turned around and
the next thing you know you wander off and freeze to
death."

Crystal smiled, shook her head, and crawled inside,
Raulin close behind. Before he ducked in, he noted
that the sleigh, at the very edge of the windbreak pro-
vided by the mountain, had become a shapeless white
blob and the giant, although as much out of the storm
as possible, could barely be seen.

Because they'd brought in most of their gear, the
usually snug shelter could only be described as
cramped.

"How about cozy?" Crystal asked, when Raulin did
just that after contorting himself around various bun-
dles and into a sitting position.

Raulin only growled and tried to discover what was
poking him in the back. Enough soft, silver light came
from Crystal's hair for him to see her pulling their
teapot out of a pack.

She tossed it in his lap- "Fill this with snow, would
you, please."

He did, and even though he carefully snaked his arm
out between the two naps, a small eddy of snow found

THE LAST WIZARD 185

the opening and danced inside. Crystal clicked her
tongue and danced it back out.

She slid against Jago, set the full teapot Raulin
handed her in front of her on the floor, muttered some-
thing at it, and dumped a package of tea in the now
boiling water-
should you be using your power like that?" asked
Jago, twisting around and digging out the mugs.

Crystal ducked his elbow and caught the teapot be-
fore it could spill. "I can't see as it'll hurt. Zarshiey
seems happier when her aspect is being used; it's when
she gets bored that she tries to make a run for it."

And she hates being talked about as if she isn 't there.

Then maybe she shouldn't listen. Crystal responded
to the goddess' complaint.

By rearranging a number of the packs, and inter-
twining two or three legs, they managed to achieve
positions where they could both drink their tea and be
reasonably happy doing it. Body heat had warmed the
shelter to a satisfying temperature, so damp outer coats
were removed and piled against the entrance as an
added protection from drafts. Crystal had muted the
sound of the storm and, although an occasional gust
shook the felt and canvas walls, in their island of com-
fort and safety, it had become vaguely unreal.

They ate a small meal—more for something to do
than from hunger.

"We need more room," groused Raulin as they fin-
ished, stretching out long legs and almost kicking Jago
in the stomach.

You 'd have more room if you 'd lie down, Avreen sug-
gested. And more still if you . . .

Shut up, Avreen! But she passed on the suggestion,
minus the corollary, to the brothers.

Raulin added the corollary on his own and, with a
deep sigh, Jago offered to go sit in the storm until they
finished.

Crystal smacked them both.

The amount of squirming necessary to spread out
the bedrolls with three adults taking up the space where

186 TanyaHuff

the bedrolls had to go was impressive but, with only
a minor bit of wizardry, they were finally spread.

"I don't know about the rest of you," panted Jago,
pulling off his jacket and folding it into a pillow, "but
that exhausted me." He collapsed backward, then
bounced up again quickly, apologizing for nearly
crushing Crystal's elbow.

She only smiled and snuggled her back against Rau-
lin's front, head pillowed on his forearm. Her eyes
began to close. Jago lay down more carefully the sec-
ond time, bending where necessary to fit. Because of
the packs, the three of them were close. Very close.

"I hate to disillusion you, Raulin," Jago said dryly,
"but that's my wrist you're stroking."

Eventually—being trapped in a small shelter by a
storm having limited their options—they all fell asleep,
tangled in and around each other like puppies.

Raulin woke, and lay quietly in the darkness listen-
ing to Crystal and Jago breathe. He wondered if the
storm still raged and decided it didn't matter one way
or another—he had to go outside. Slowly and care-
fully, he slid out of Crystal's arms, unwinding a strand
of silken hair from around his throat. She murmured
in her sleep, but didn't wake. Easing his feet into his
boots, he laced them loosely, then pulled his overcoat
from the pile of fur by the door—the loops that closed
his were cord, Jago's closed with leather—contorted
himself into it and backed out into the night.

By both kicking the snow away and compacting it
with his body. Raulin got free of the shelter, made
sure both flaps had closed securely behind him, and
stood. As his head rose above the level of the tent. the
wind, snow-laden, struck him full in the face. The
storm did, indeed, still rage. And it was cold. Raulin
quickly fastened his coat and tried to bury his ears in
the collar. He'd come out with neither hat nor mittens.
Just to be on the safe side, he bent and tightened his
boot laces. By the time he finished, his fingers were
already growing stiff.

THE LAST WIZARD 187

He plunged around the shelter and began to make
his way the length of it to where the sleigh marked the
edge of the cut. After the wizard-created warmth in-
side, the night air felt like knives in his lungs and he
was positive the interior of his nose had frozen. Had
the wind not been making such a noise, he was sure
he'd be able to hear the nose hairs crackling.

"Lucky I'm not going to be out here long," he mut-
tered, stumbling into a drift that reached his thighs.
"Any sensible wizard," he added, plowing forward,
"would have built her tower farther south."

His foot hit something hard and he tripped, falling
against the object and burying his arms up to the el-
bows-
Righting himself, he shook the snow from his
sleeves. "Well, it seems I've found the sleigh.** He
followed the angle to where the lower, front end butted
up against rock, clambered over, and out of the cut.

A solid wall of snow slammed into him and, if not
for the rock wall at his back, it would have swept him
up and away. Eyes closed against the wind, Raulin
kept one hand on the mountain and staggered five
paces from the camp.

"Far enough," he decided, and did what he had to.
When he finished, he reached out again to use the
mountain as his guide. It seemed to have moved. He
knew he hadn't. He stepped forward, arms out-
stretched, expecting to punch his hands into rock.
Nothing. His hands were numb with cold, but he
thought they should be able to feel a mountain. He took
another step. Still nothing. He squinted in the direction
he knew he had to go- All he could see was storm. All
he could see in any direction was storm.

"Okay," he drew his hands up into his sleeves as
far as they would go, "let's Just stop and think about
this for a moment." Closing his eyes again, for they
certainly weren't any help, he took two deliberate steps
backward. "Okay, now I turn to the left and go five
paces which will take me back to the . . ." He bent
and flailed around. Nothing. No sleigh.

188 TanyaHuff

"All right," he fought to keep his breathing steady;

panic would help the storm, not him. "All right, I
could've angled off a little. I turn left again and keep
going straight. I'll eventually hit either the sleigh or
the mountain."

Eventually didn't happen in six steps, or seven, or
eight.

When he tried to open his eyes, he found the lashes
had frozen.

"CRYSTAL!"

His scream only added to the wailing of the storm.

Crystal and Jago slept on.

"All right, all right, I'm coming!" Doan stomped
out into the storm and stood solidly against the wind.
The voice that had imperiously roused him out of sleep
had quieted and the Chaos-bom storm blocked his
sight. His eyes glowed red and a shadowy figure be-
came visible about five body lengths away. He stepped
toward it and it moved back.

"Don't play your games with me, Mother's son,"
he grunted, for only Lord Death could walk unhin-
dered through a blizzard, "I am not in the mood."
But he followed anyway, curiosity growing with every
step, until the shadow stopped beside a body half bur-
ied in the snow. Doan's brow furrowed. The body
didn't seem to have a head. He grabbed it and nipped
it over. The coat had been pulled up in a turtle attempt
at warmth. The man within still lived and he seemed
vaguely familiar. Doan searched his memory for a
name.

Raulin. That was it. One of the mortals whom the
breezes had reported traveling with Crystal. His mouth
twitched as he remembered the stories the breezes told.
Their descriptions appeared fairly accurate, although
Doan couldn't understand the continuous jokes about
the man's mustache. When it wasn't frozen solid it was
probably quite respectable. But what was he doing out
alone in the storm?

And why had Lord Death come to him?

THE LAST WIZARD 189

The dwarf bent and hoisted Raulin up on his shoul-
ders. The weight gave him no trouble, but he cursed
a little at the length. Ah well, he thought, it can't hurt
bits of him to drag. Snow's soft.

He paused before starting back and cocked his head
at the shadow lingering at the edge of sight. "Why
didn't you wake Crystal?" he asked.

The shadow that was Lord Death vanished into the
storm.

Thinking deeply, Doan carried Raulin to safety.

Once inside, he stripped the heavy outer coat off his
burden and checked exposed skin for frostbite. Ears,
the end of the nose, a patch on each cheek, and fin-
gertips, he decided, all of them superficial although
the ears were a close thing. He tucked Raulin's hands
up in his own armpits, and carefully began to warm
the mortal's face. Only the ears still showed white
when Raulin finally opened his eyes.

I've been found! was Raulin's first jubilant thought.
Who or what is that? was the second. Thick red-brown
hair, eyes the same color deep-set under heavy brows,
flat cheekbones, a pronounced nose, and a mustache
that made his own look scanty made up the face which
bent over him, concern and irritation showing about
equally.

"Mom?" he asked for lack of anything better to
say.

Doan laughed.

Raulin noted that the irritation disappeared with the
laughter although the man remained ugly—he took an-
other look—and short. "You're a dwarf."

"You have a problem with that?"

Raulin thought of Crystal, Sokoji, a mountain full
of wer, and the one-sided conversations his brother
had with Lord Death. "No."

"Good. Name's Doan. You're Raulin. Can you sit?"

"I think so." He did and got his first good look
around. Blocks of snow arched up over his head, high
enough for the dwarf to stand straight. He lay on a low
platform; made, he realized, of furs thrown over snow

190 TanyaHuff

not cut away to form the walls and ceiling. A small
campstove, much like his and Jago's, burned and kept
the place, if not warm, at least comfortable. "Where
am I? What is this?"

"Snowhouse," Doan explained, busy at his pack,
"I built it when I sensed the storm coming."

"You built this?"

"You think it grew here?" He turned and handed
Raulin a small stone flask. "Here, take a sip of this
and you'll feel more the thing."

Raulin looked at it and decided it was the kind of
container that could hold only one liquid.

"Ah, alcohol and frostbite don't mix."

"You arguing with me, mortal?"

No, Raulin decided, he wasn't. He accepted the
flask, pulled free the stopper and took a cautious sip.
The top of his head blew off. Or at least it felt like the
top of his head blew off. He swallowed again. Some-
one wrote a name in fire along his spine. The third
mouthful turned to edged steel in his throat and cut all
the way down. He returned the flask.

"Thank you," he said, surprised at how normal his
voice sounded. "I feel much better now." And he
probably would, the moment the world stopped bounc-
ing. He definitely no longer felt cold.

Doan nodded, took a healthy swallow himself and
stowed the flask away. "Centaurs brew it. They get a
few snorts of this stuff in them and they become al-
most bearable. Now," he shoved his hands behind his
belt and rocked back on his heels, "what in Chaos
were you doing out in that weather?"

"I was writing my name in the snow."

Doan grinned. "About what I figured. Took one step
too far and . . . You know, you're one damned lucky
mortal."

"I know," Raulin agreed, shuddering. When he'd
fallen that last time, he'd been sure he wouldn't be
getting up again. His last thoughts, after he'd cursed
the Chaos-bom storm with every bit of profanity he
knew, had been equally of Crystal and Jago; his one

THE LAST WIZARD 191

consolation that they would probably find consolation
in each other.

"You have any idea why the Mother's son came to
me instead of Crystal when he wanted your ass pulled
out of the storm?" The tone was only just conversa-
tional.

Raulin thought about it for a moment. "Yeah. I can
hazard a guess."

"You gonna tell me? Remembering, of course, who
pulled your ass out of the storm."

"It's not my story to tell."

"Bullshit. You're in this story up to your eyeballs.
Tell."

"He's in love."

"The Mother's son in love? With Crystal?" Doan
laughed. Suddenly, Lord Death's actions made sense.
Of a sort. "And it confuses him."

"That'd be my guess. I don't imagine love is a usual
emotion for Lord Death."

"Is this common knowledge?"

Raulin shrugged. "Everyone seems to know but
Crystal." He paused and matched Doan's grin. "And
possibly Lord Death."

"Why haven't you told her?"

He shrugged again. "Because I'm not sure how she
feels about him and until I am, I'm not going to mess
up how she feels about me."

Doan's eyes twinkled and he clapped Raulin on the
shoulder, knocking him into the wall. "I like you,"
he said, "you think like a dwarf. Come on, let's get
you back before the wizard wakes up and brings the
mountain down looking for you."

"Okay," Raulin slid to the edge of the platform and
began pulling on his coat. "But I've no-idea where
back is."

"No matter. I do. Dwarves don't get lost. Ever."
^ Doan shrugged into his own heavy fur. "When we get
v outside, keep both hands on my shoulders and I'll an-
l' chor you. We'll move fast enough so you won't freeze
i]'. up again."

192 TanyaHuff

Raulin nodded, then reached out and touched Doan
gently on the arm. "Thank you," he said.

Doan snorted. "Thank Crystal. I'd save a hundred
mortals if it saved her one tear.'' His gaze grew distant
and strangely sad. "And this doesn't make up for the
one I couldn't save."

Outside Doan's snowhouse, the storm had eased a
little and by the time they reached the camp, the wind
had died. It continued to snow, but softly, the flakes
large and gentle.

Raulin turned to thank the dwarf again, but Doan
had disappeared and the line of footprints stretching
back into the night was filling rapidly. Suddenly, he was
exhausted and, barely able to raise his legs, he climbed
over the sleigh. He floundered through the drifts to the
shelter's entrance and tossing armloads of snow away,
dropped to his knees and crawled inside, shedding the
snowy overcoat like a skin.

The warm air smelled like sweat and wet fur and
safety.

Shifting Crystal's legs, he made enough room to pull
off his boots and then he stretched out at her side. She
grumbled a little because he was cold, but he whis-
pered reassurances in her ear and she sank back into
a deeper sleep. Seconds later, holding Crystal close
and with one hand cupped around his brother's shoul-
der, Raulin joined her.

When Raulin next opened his eyes. Crystal and Jago
were discussing shoving snow down his pants to wake
him. "Is it morning?" he muttered, rising up on his
elbows.

"It is." Crystal bent forward and kissed him briskly.
"Jago's been out and the storm's over."

Raulin fell back and tried to drag Crystal with him.
When she didn't budge, he yawned instead. "How
come Jago never has to get up in the night anymore?"
he wondered, remembering his near disaster, what had
caused it, and how long it had been since Jago had
woken him up by crawling over him to get to the door.

THE LAST WIZARD 193

Jago shrugged. "Strength of character?"

In much the way it healed him, your power takes
care of these things as he sleeps. Sholah sounded
amused.

"What?" the brothers asked in unison as Crystal
suddenly grinned.

She passed on Sholah's explanation and Raulin threw
up his hands.

"Figures. Some guys get all the luck." He meant
to tell them then, about the storm and his rescue and
Doan, but Jago threw him his coat and the story got
lost in the scramble out of the shelter.

Sokoji looked like a massive snow drift, angled up
against the mountain.

"Is she okay under there?" Jago reached out and
pushed a mitten-print into the unbroken expanse of
white.

"I think so. The Elder Races don't worry much
about the weather."

Raulin opened his mouth to tell them of the shelter
made from blocks of snow, but the emerald of Crys-
tal's eyes grew momentarily brighter and she called the
giant's name. In the flurry of Sokoji's awakening—the
cut looked for a moment as if the storm had returned—
the story got lost again.

During breakfast, he almost mentioned it, reminded
of the centaurs' brew by a burning mouthful of too hot
tea, but Jago asked him something about the day's route
and the story wandered off once more.

He never did tell what happened. He never quite
knew why.

"Saving the life of a mortal," Lord Death buried
his face in his hands, "I don't believe I did that." In
memory, he saw Crystal laughing with Raulin, Crystal
holding Raulin, Crystal and Raulin. He groaned. He
knew, had Raulin died. Crystal would not have blamed
him. But he knew also that every time she looked at
him afterward, she'd be looking for Raulin's face, torn

194 TanyaHuff

between wanting and not wanting to see it on the face
of Death.

If only he could touch her. If only he knew how she
really felt. Sometimes it seemed her manner held more
than friendship and sometimes it seemed not to hold
even that.

"Why isn't it this complicated for mortals?" he
wondered. He remembered the goddess of love bless-
ing the couples who knelt before her altars, blithely
interfering in the lives of her worshipers. Thousands
of years ago that had been, and things had certainly
not been as simple since. The_ Mother's son looked
down at the shelter where Crystal lay wrapped in Rau-
lin's arms. It would take Avreen to straighten out this
tangle, he suspected.

Avreen.

Crystal carried the goddesses within her.

And wasn't sleep a small piece of the oblivion that
came with Death?

He would have to be very careful he touched only
the part of Crystal that was Avreen, but if he suc-
ceeded it would be worth the risk.

The ripe greens of summer swirled around him and
Lord Death allowed himself a smile of triumph. He
had managed to slip deep into Crystal's sleeping mind,
safely past the guardians that would have alerted her
to his presence.

"Avreen," he called softly, afraid that if he hesi-
tated in what he'd come to do, he'd lose his nerve.
"Avreen, I need you."

"No need to tell me that. Mother's son." A throaty
chuckle thrummed in the air behind him. "Your yearn-
ing is a blazing beacon to me."

Lord Death turned, or perhaps the place turned
around him, he couldn't be sure. His jaw dropped and
he froze.

Avreen smiled a lazy sort of a smile and pushed
silver hair back off her face with a long fingered ivory
hand. Thickly lashed lids half closed over emerald

THE LAST WIZARD 195

eyes. "What did' you expect?" she asked, her voice
low and teasing. "I wear the face of love and each
sees in me what they most desire."

It had taken Lord Death only a second to realize it
wasn't Crystal before him, Avreen was more . . . more
knowing than Crystal could ever be. Forcing himself
to really look at the goddess, he saw physical differ-
ences as well. Avreen's features were Crystal's rip-
ened; fuller, lusher, inviting just by existing. He found
the effect disturbing.

He wondered what, or who. Crystal saw when she
looked on Avreen. He wondered, but he didn't ask.

"What is it you want from me. Mother's son?"

"I thought you knew." How could she not know,
appearing as she had?

The goddess smiled again and even Lord Death felt
the power of it. He gave thanks he had been created
more than mortal for he doubted a mortal man could
survive Avreen's personal attention.

"The rules state you must petition me. I cannot act
without it," she told him. "Although I warn you be-
fore you speak," she added dryly, "my range of influ-
ence is not great at this time."

"I want ..." He paused. If he said it, especially
here, to her, he made it real. He gathered up his cour-
age. "I want Crystal to love me.'* The words came
out louder than he intended and barely under control.

"And you want me to . . ." Avreen prompted.

"Well, to make her. Love me."

"Are you sure that's what you want?**

"Of course." He tried to bury the confusion. "I'm
here."

"Ah."

"You can, can't you?"

"Yes." The goddess' eyes crinkled at the comers
and she looked as if she thought about a very pleasant
secret. "But why should I?"

"Why?" Lord Death waved his hands about in short
jerky motions. Why? "Well, because . . ." Because I
love her. He knew that was the answer Avreen wanted.

196 Tanya Huff

He couldn't say it. He could barely admit it to him-
self, he couldn't say it aloud. "Just because. Will you
do it?"

"Will she do what?"

Again the voice behind him. Not throaty this time,
not low and seductive, but clear and sharp. Ringing.
Like a silver bell struck with a silver hammer. He
didn't want to turn, but he did. They were, after all,
in her mind.

"Crystal." He carefully kept all emotion from his
voice as he said her name.

Crystal stood and stared at Lord Death, one hand
working in the loose fabric of her tunic front. He was
no construct of her imagination, no dream—not this
time. She took a step toward him, brows drawn down
in puzzlement. "What are you doing here?"

He didn't have a reason he could tell her, so he re-
mained silent.

"Will Avreen do what?"

He shook his head.

"How did you get here?" Crystal heard her voice
rising. Why wouldn't he speak? What did he hide?"

"Death and sleep are cousins of a sort," he said,
grateful for a question he could finally answer. He felt
like a bug, pinned under the hurt in Crystal's eyes.
"As I am the one, I can work with the other."

"So you dropped in for a visit?"

He winced at the sarcasm and countered with a
question of his own. "How did you know I was here?
I kept far away from the Crystal part of you."

"You took a chance." She looked momentarily ex-
asperated, but not, he thought, at him. "You lost."

"Maybe." The disembodied voice teetered on the
edge of laughter. "Maybe not."

Lord Death recognized the source of Crystal's ex-
asperation. He had dealt with the goddess of chance
in the past. "Lady Eegri." He inclined his head.
"Why have you interfered?"

"Have I interfered?" She popped into sight and gave

THE LAST WIZARD 197

him a saucy wink. "I thought I helped. She says you
lost the toss, not me.'' Then only her giggle remained.

For an instant the wizard and the Mother's son were
in complete accord as they exchanged a puzzled glance
and shook their heads. Mortals had formed the other
goddesses out of aspects of the Mother's creation but
Eegri, they had called out of themselves.

"So, Crystal, shall I leave you two alone to talk?"

Avreen's words brought Crystal's anger rushing
back. She'd trusted Lord Death, had thought him her
friend; yet he snuck into her mind like a thief and
refused to explain his presence when caught. Friends
didn't act like that. What could he be doing? Her head
went up and her eyes began to glow.

"I am no more susceptible to your power than you
are to mine, wizard." Lord Death began to grow an-
gry as well. How dare she think she had to force him.
How dare she try!

The glow faded but the eyes remained hard. "Then
why are you here?"

"Can't you trust me?'*

Had he spoken more gently Crystal would have re-
sponded differently, she knew, because she did trust
him. But it sounded like a challenge and she would
not be challenged when he was in the wrong.

"The last who so snuck under my defenses was
Kraydak."

"Do you compare me to him, then?"

"I do not. Your actions speak for themselves."

That hurt. More so. Lord Death admitted, because
it was true. He had done pretty much exactly what
Kraydak had done. For other reasons, perhaps, but
that could be no excuse. What am I doing here? he
asked himself, suddenly aghast at what he had been
about to do.

"Crystal, I ..."

"No." Her voice threatened to break and she got it
firmly back under control. How could he? "No ex-
cuses."

"If you'd only listen . . ."

198 TmyaHuff

"Oh, so that's it, you don't think I listen to you."
Guilt sharpened her voice; she hadn't been listening
to him. As soon as Raulin and Jago had come into her
life, she'd all but abandoned the friendship with Lord
Death and the realization she could do such a thing
twisted like a knife. "You think I should just drop
everything and come to your beck and call?"

"My beck and call? When have I ever called you?"
Lord Death began to grow angry again. It was easiest.
If I called, asked his heart, too terrified of the answer
to trust the words to his mouth, would you come?

Crystal responded to his anger- Of all the emotions
beating at her, anger, at least, she understood. "What
are you doing in my mind?" And her hair swirled
forward to hide the question in her eyes. Why haven't
you ever called me? She'd needed him so much in the
past, but he'd never once shown he needed her.

"I am Death!" It was the last cry of a drowning
man. "I go where I choose."

"Tell me why you sought out Avreen!"

"Why should I?"

"Because I . . ."

"What?" He made it a taunt.

"Because I said so!" Crystal almost screamed it.

"Hah!"

Eyes blazing, she stepped forward, placed both
hands against his chest and pushed.

Lord Death fell backward and stared up at her from
where he lay. He could feel the pressure of her hands,
her touch. He wet dry lips and watched her hand reach
out again, the way a bird would watch a snake. She
would not touch in anger this time, he could see that
in her face. And he saw as well, a fear as great as his.

The warmth of her hand caressed his cheek and die
hand itself would do so in an instant.

He panicked and threw himself from Crystal's mind.

Avreen's laughter followed his flight.

Interlude Two

After the Mother-creator had formed the world, and
walked upon it, and given it life, and after she had
shaped the Elder Races, Chaos came out of the void
and lay with her and She bore him a son. Their son
was Death and from that moment onward, all things
created began to die.

So terrible was this aspect that Chaos had bestowed
upon his son, it was easy to forget Death was also his
Mother's child and that nothing died without contrib-
uting to life.

"I hope you're still taking care of business while
you're moping around, 'cause thmgs'll sure be in a
damned mess if you aren't."

"Go away, dwarf," Lord Death growled, without
turning his head. "I want to be alone."

"Oh. Alone." Doan swung out of his pack and leaned
it against the wind-scoured rock. Then he clambered up
and sat beside the Mother's son. "Tough."

Lord Death sighed, considered going elsewhere—he
had a worid to choose from, after all—and stayed
where he was. It just didn't seem worth the bother. He
turned to face the dwarf, allowing the newly dead to
parade across his face. Doan grunted—it might have
been satisfaction. Lord Death neither knew nor cared-—
and he let his features fall back into those of the
auburn-haired, amber-eyed young man.

They sat in silence for a while, staring into the pur-
ple distance.

They sat in silence for a while longer.
199

200 TanyaHuff

"All right!" Lord Death exclaimed at last, throwing
up his hands, unable to stand it any more. "What do
you want?"

"Me?" Doan shifted his sword so the scabbard strap
didn't bind. "I don't want anything. No, I just thought
that if you maybe needed to talk to someone ..."

"I could talk to you?"

Red fires began to glow in Doan's eyes. "Yau got a
problem with that?"

"You're a dwarf!"

"Yeah. So?"

Lord Death's voice got a little shrill as he pointed
out the obvious. "You don't even have females!"

The red fires faded and Doan grinned. "Oh. Is that the
problem.'' He scratched at the back of his neck and settled
into a more comfortable position. "I spent a lot of time
with mortals over the years and some women don't care
how short a man is, long as everything works."

"But if you don't have female dwarves, how. . . I mean
it can't be an urge natural to your kind." And I can't
believe I'm discussing this. Lord Death added to himself.

"Well, it's kind of an acquired taste." Doan thought
about it a minute. "Like eating pickled eggs." His grin
broadened into a smile. " 'Course I can't recall any of
my brothers having a fondness for pickled eggs either."

"Look, this is fascinating," Lord Death desperately
wanted to cut off any reminiscences, he didn't think
he could handle them, not in his current state of mind,
"but I don't need to talk to anyone!"

"No? 'Course, saving mortals isn't exactly normal
behavior for you ..."

Lord Death whirled on him, lips drawn back. "What
do you know about normal behavior for me?'' he snarled.

Doan remained unimpressed by both the snarl and the
implied threat. "You seem to forget, I was around long
before the Mother-creator presented you to the worid."

"And that gives you the right to judge me?"

"No. But it gives me some grounds for pointing out
that you're acting like an ass."

And Doan sat alone on the rock. He smiled and

THE LAST WIZARD 201

leaned back, soaking up as much warmth as he could
from the winter sun. His breathing began to deepen
and his eyes began to close and at first he thought the
soft voice belonged to a breeze. When he realized
whose it was, spotting a bowed head from the corner
of one eye, he allowed himself an inward—and smug—
pat on the back, but showed no outward sign.

"... but I guess I started to love her when she
faced Kraydak in his own tower, knowing that if she
lost not even I could take her from Kraydak*s grip.
Kraydak had a habit of holding on to my people; he
drew power from the dead trapped in his walls and I
can't bear to think of what he would have done to her.
But she won and I asked the dragon to take her home.
I remember that it asked me why, and I said I didn't
know. I didn't, then. Or I wouldn*t admit it.

"I began to watch her. Curiosity about this lastbom
wizard, I thought at the time. Do you know what she
went through trying to lift Kraydak's yoke from the
Empire? People would run from her in fear, or fall on
their faces in terror, or worse still, try to squirm their
way into her favor so she would toss them scraps as
Kraydak had done. They only saw the wizard, not the
child who so desperately wanted to help. She wasn't
even twenty when it began. Do you remember what it
was like to be that young?"

"Huh? Me?"

Lord Death ignored the interruption and continued
in the same quiet, almost singsong tone, but Doan,
Jolted out of somnolence by the question, saw that the
angle of Death's cheek had softened and he looked
barely out of his teens. "The young die as well as the
old, so I know what it's like at that age- How every-
thing cuts, how easy it is to take up the guilt of some-
thing you didn't do. Not even the shields the centaurs
had given her could stop all the hurting."

"Shields?" Doan snorted, unable to contain him-
self. "What shields?"

"Duty and responsibility can be a shield as well as
a shackle, dwarf. They've kept her from the path of

202 Tanya Huff

the ancient ones and, for a while, they were all that
kept her sane. Crystal had been created for one pur-
pose and one purpose only, and no one gave a thought
to how she'd feel when that was finished, knowing the
world held no place for her. Although I'd give anything
to stop it, I'm not surprised she's being torn apart. I'm
surprised she's lasted so long.

"Anyway, after she defeated Kraydak, I spent a lot
of time watching her. And when I saw how lonely she'd
become. I started talking to her, getting to know her. I
told myself that the mortal part of her heritage made
her my responsibility and so I kept my mind open for
other mortals who were worthy of her." He gave a short
bark of bitter laughter. "And we can see how well that
worked out." His voice grew melancholy. "We're
unique. Crystal and I. We belong together. I love her
so much I can't think of anything else."

"So tell her."

"I can't. Not now."

"You're going to let a mortal stand in your way?"

"No, it's not that ..."

Doan narrowed his eyes. Was the Mother's son
blushing? "What have you done?" he asked, trying
not to smile.

Lord Death sat quietly for a moment men the words came
out in a rush. "I asked Avreen to make Crystal love me,"

"And Crystal found out?"

"Yes."

"Hmm," Doan nodded his head slowly, "I can see how
that might put a sword through a relationship. Why didn't
you start by asking Avreen what Crystal's feelings were?"

"What?"

Doan sighed. "Read my lips. Mother's son; Crystal's
feelings. Why didn't you ask Avreen what they were?"

Lord Death was definitely blushing. "I didn't want
to know," he mumbled. "I wanted to be sure."

"I am somehow sadly disappointed," Doan re-
marked to the world in general, "to find the Mother's
son, a divine and immortal being, acting like a mortal
youth whose balls have just dropped."

THE LAST WIZARD 203

"Well, I've never been in love before!"

"That's not much of an excuse."

"If you'd ever been in love . . ."

"I was in love once." The uneasy silence this time
was Doan's as he remembered Milthra, the Lady of
the Grove, and all the long years he'd guarded her
child, because that was the only thing she could take
from him. "And I suppose," he admitted at last, "it's
led me to do some stupid things. But," he added, Just
in case Lord Death should get ideas, "nothing as stu-
pid as that. Asked Avreen to make her love you, in-
deed. And am I to understand when Crystal discovered
you mucking about in her head you didn't throw your-
self on her mercy and declare your undying," Doan
snorted, "as it were, love?"

"Not exactly. We fought."

"Brilliant."

*She started it!'' Lord Death rested his fingers against
his chest where the touch of Crystal's hands still burned.
And she'd finished it as well. "What can I do?"

"Stop worrying about what she feels, and tell her
what you feel."

"I can't."

"It's the only way to untie the knot you've got your-
self in." Doan's voice was matter-of-fact but not un-
caring. "It's the only way to untie the knot you've got
her in. Give her a chance."

Lord Death looked desperate. "I don't know how,"
he whispered, and vanished.

Doan shook his head, suddenly understanding. "No,
you wouldn't, would you. You're Death and Death is
a surety. There's nothing sure about love." He got to
his feet and stretched the kinks out of his legs. Then
he faced the place where Lord Death had been.

"You know how," he said, "but you're afraid."

And he thought he heard the breeze sob, "Yes."

Eleven

But why won't you tell me what he wanted?

Because it's none of your concern.

None of my concern? What are you talking about,
you 're a part of ME!

"Crystal, are you all right?" Raulin grabbed her
arm as she stumbled and swung her around to face
him. He gave her a little shake for her eyes were un-
focused and she'd clearly not been watching the trail.

"Huh? Oh, sorry.'* Crystal freed enough of her at-
tention from her argument with Avreen to smile sheep-
ishly at Raulin. "I was just, well . . ."

"Talking to yourself?" he finished, maintaining his
hold on her shoulders.

She winced a little at his choice of words, for de-
spite what she'd just screamed at Avreen, she didn't
consider the goddesses to be a part of her any longer;

at least not a part of the her that mattered.

"Hey, is everything okay up there?" Jago called
from his position at the back of the sleigh. He pushed
his snow goggles up on his forehead and peered at
Raulin, trying to read his expression. All morning he'd
been getting the feeling that Crystal was upset and he
hoped it wasn't about something Raulin had done. "Do
you guys need to take a break?"

"Crystal?" Raulin asked softly.

"No," she shook her head and her hair made a
dance of the motion. "I'm all right, really."

Raulin tightened his fingers for an instant, then let
her go, half-turning to face his brother. "We're okay."

Jago looked openly skeptical.
204

THE LAST WIZARD 205

Raulin sighed. "Crystal just lost sight of the trail
and tripped."

"You sure?"

"What?" Raulin spread his arms. "You think I
tripped her?"

"Wouldn't be the first time." Jago ducked the
snowball Raulin lobbed at him and added in a loud
aside to Sokoji, "Some guys will do anything to get a
woman in their arms."

Sokoji looked interested. "Really?" she asked Rau-
lin.

Raulin flushed a deep red and threw himself forward
into the harness. "If we're not taking a break," he
muttered, "let's go." He tried to ignore Jago explain-
ing mortal relationships to the giant. Out of the comer
of his eye he saw Crystal smile. He knew her hearing
was better than his, so he assumed she was listening
to his brother. He didn't see the smile freeze and her
eyes grow distracted again.

He wanted something to do with me, didn 't he?

I'm not going to tell you. Avreen's voice was irritat-
ingly smug. The Mother's son asked a boon of the
goddess. I don't betray those confidences.

You'd betray anything that suited you, Zarsheiy
snorted.

The wizard does have a point, Tayja's voice, the
voice of reason joined in. You are, as much as any of
us, apart of her.

Avreen laughed. Only because I choose to be.

Ha!

I could leave any time I wanted to.

HA! Zarsheiy said again, louder.

/ stay because I choose to.

Maybe, murmured a quiet voice. Maybe not.

You know nothing. But the words lacked their pre-
vious conviction.

Stop it! All of you! Crystal put power into the com-
mand and the quarreling goddesses fell silent, but
behind the deepest barrier, darkness stirred.

Careful, little wizard, Nashawryn sounded amused.

206 TanyaHuff

Force our sister to tell you what she knows and you
may have to face things you have no desire to.

"Crystal, what is it?"

Raulin's anxious concern snapped her back to the
surface. She took a deep breath and motioned for him
to keep walking.

"It's nothing, really.*'

He looked into her eyes and nodded but wasn't re-
assured. "It's nothing now," he allowed, "but a mo-
ment ago you seemed terrified. What frightened you?"

Crystal's brow furrowed. What had frightened her?
She wasn't sure so she gave him the easy answer, hop-
ing he'd dig no further. "Nashawryn."

"Oh." He bent and dragged a protruding branch
out of the snow, tossing it clear of the sleigh's path.
"Oh," he said again.

"Don't worry," Crystal snagged his hand and
brought it to her lips, "she can't get through the bar-
riers." She paused, muttered something unintelligi-
ble, and pulled off his mitten.

Rauiin laughed, his uneasiness pushed aside by the
disgusted way she held the mitten between two fingers
and then completely buried by the soft touch of her
lips on the back of his hand.

She peered up at him through her lashes and he felt
his heart begin to beat faster.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, mes-
merized by the tip of her tongue as it made a circuit
of her mouth.

"I'm using you to chase the bogie-goddess away."

He clutched at his chest with his free hand, and
said, "I feel so cheap." With a sudden twist of his
fingers, he had his harness undone.

Crystal's eyes widened as he unhooked hers as well
and in practically the same motion scooped her up in
his arms. She hurriedly adjusted her weight as his
snowshoes sank a little deeper in the fine powder.

Moving as quickly as the snowshoes allowed, Rau-
lin carried her off the trail, murmuring into her hair,

THE LAST WIZARD 207

"She's a pretty powerful goddess. It'll take more than
a little hand kissing to chase her away."

"But you'll freeze," Crystal laughed, settling her-
self more comfortably.

Rauiin kissed her on the nose. "You're a wizard,
think of something."

"Hey!" Jago yelled. "Where do you two think
you're going?"

"Never mind," Rauiin called back, neither lessen-
ing his pace nor turning his head. "Start lunch."

"You could make better time," Sokoji observed as
Rauiin and Crystal disappeared behind a boulder, "if
those two were not together on the harnesses."

"And if my brother could get a grip on his libido,"
Jago grumbled, pulling out the campstove and the tea-
pot. But he wasn't really angry, for he could feel the
easing of the tensions Crystal had been under all
morning.

After lunch, Sokoji stood, stretched, and pointed al-
most due north, toward a mountain that looked as if its
upper third had been sheared off. "That is the way you
must go," she said, "if you wish to reach Aryalan's
tower. Tonight we can be at the pass and tomorrow
cross into her valley."

"Not that I'm saying you're wrong. Elder, but ac-
cording to frog-face's map, we should be heading for
the highest peak in the range." Rauiin came and stood
beside the giant, waving his arm in the direction they'd
been traveling. "And the highest mountain in the range
is that one there."

"Yes," Sokoji agreed, "now it is. But the demon
had not been to the tower for many years, not since
before the Doom. The mountain you point to did not
exist then. Aryalan drew it out of the earth to stop the
dragon, and this mountain ..." The giant sighed and
shook her head as she gazed at the jutting angles of
rock that still looked raw even after more than a thou-
sand years. "We called it the Mighty One, and it be-
came as you see it now during the battle."

298 TanyaHuff

"Are you sure?" Raulin sounded skeptical.

"Mortal, giants are never unsure. It is a skill we
have. And besides, when last I went to the tower, that
is the route I took."

"Yeah, a thousand years ago . . .**

Sokoji turned to face him. "No, six winters ago."

"You were at the tower six winters ago?" Jago
moved to stand by Raulin and stared up at the giant.
"Why didn't you tell us this before?"

"Didn't I?" Her forehead wrinkled as she recalled
all the words she'd spoken to the brothers. "Oh. I
didn't. How odd. Never mind, I shall tell you of it
now." She waved a massive hand toward the sleigh.
"Perhaps if we could travel while I speak . . . We have
little enough daylight this far north to waste any and
it will mean we need not hurry later on."

Raulin and Jago exchanged glances so identically
put out that Sokoji smiled. "I have not been keeping
knowledge from you. I was quite sure I'd told you."

*'I thought you said giants were never unsure,"
Raulin reminded her.

"I did," Sokoji agreed placidly. "But I did not say
we were never mistaken."

There was a long moment of silence, then Jago
started to laugh. Raulin glowered for a moment more
then, unable to keep the comers of his mouth from
twitching back, joined him. Soon they were bent dou-
ble and swiping at the tears leaking from their eyes.

Staring at them in fascination, Sokoji walked over
to where Crystal leaned against the high back of the
sleigh. "Are they hysterical?" she asked.

"No. They're mortals." Crystal smiled at the two
men who were still laughing but were beginning to
regain control. "They tend to be a bit extreme."

The giant cocked one eyebrow in the wizard's direc-
tion. "So I noticed this morning."

Crystal had the grace to blush.

When they moved out, the brothers wore the har-
nesses while Crystal followed behind, the positions
shaking down with an even mix of teasing and threats

THE LAST WIZARD 209

between Raulin and Jago. Sokoji walked by the front
of the sleigh where the mortals could hear her unas-
sisted and where she could use her strength to ease the
path.

Although Crystal could've heard a leaf fall back in
the Sacred Grove in Ardhan, she missed the start of
the giant's story absorbed in watching Raulin and Jago
walk. They looked like a cross between bears and
ducks in their heavy fur coats and snowshoes. She
grinned and gave thanks she had no need for the awk-
ward footgear—her feet sank only as far as she allowed
them to—then gave her attention to Sokoji's words.

"... and when the storm calmed, the winds told
me that the door had been uncovered. I thought on it
for some time ..."

"One year or two?" Raulin asked, unable to help
himself.

"Three. Mortals did not come that way, so I had no
need to make a hasty decision. In the end, I admit
curiosity alone drew me to the tower for watching
would have been sufficient; there was no need to ex-
plore. Of old, the tower sat in the midst of a lake,
perfectly round and created by Aryalan. Lilies
bloomed on its surface, swans glided majestically
about, and regardless of the season in the lands sur-
rounding it, the lake remained in perpetual high sum-
mer. The tower appeared to be a summerhouse, in the
old eastern style» very ornate but not overly large. It
rested on an island as perfectly round as the lake. The
summerhouse was merely the entrance way, the island
itself was the tower."

As Sokoji spoke, her listeners saw the red tiled roofs
curving over black lacquer walls, breathed deeply of
the exotic flowers, heard the music that played softly
from dawn to dusk.

"The Doom destroyed all that, of course, and even-
tually the wizard as well. Winter, so long denied,
moved quickly in to cover both lake and island with
ice and snow. When I came at last to view what the

210 TanyaHuff

storm had uncovered, only memory told me such
beauty had ever been."

Jago sighed and Raulin turned to look at him in sur-
prise.

"You grew up in Kraydak's Empire, Jago. You know
how evi! the ancient wizards were. How can you be
sorry Aryalan's tower got trashed?"

"Beauty is neither good nor evil, brother, it just
is."

"Well, this was beauty no longer," Sokoji contin-
ued as Raulin sputtered. "The lilies, the swans, and
the flowers had long since died and of the summer-
house only a single room remained whole. The residue
of power echoed strongly and I felt it recognize me as
an intruder."

"Trapped," Raulin declared, stepping on the edge
of his own snowshoe and almost tripping himself in
his excitement.

"Yes," the giant agreed, reaching out a hand to
steady him. "But as I said, only the residue of power
remained and it was not enough to hold one of the
Elder." Her voice took on a faint shading of pain.
"Although it came closer than I care to remember. In
the room's floor is a trapdoor and if you seek treasure
you need go no farther, for it is made of ebony and
ruby. Enough wealth to enjoy ease the rest of your
days."

"What? In the gatehouse?" Raulin asked incredu-
lously while Jago looked relieved.

"The ancient wizards were fond of gaudy display."

Crystal remembered the gold-lined room in Kray-
dak's tower and wondered what his halls had been like
when he was at the height of his power.

"Sokoji," she called. "Did you not lift the door?"

"What difference does it make?" Jago broke in be-
fore Sokoji had a chance to answer, praying Crystal
hadn't put ideas into Raulin's head. "We won't need
to go into the tower itself."

Raulin, who had a pretty good idea of his brother's
thoughts, caught Crystal's eye and winked. "I'm kind

THE LAST WIZARD 211

of curious myself," he said blandly. Jago whirled on
him, mouth open to deliver a blistering lecture on ir-
responsibility, when he added, "Not that we'll be en-
tering ourselves. Will we, Jago?"

Jago sputtered in his turn and Raulin punched him
gently on the arm.

"Don't worry, little brother, I intend to get rich,
not dead."

Sokoji shook her head. Mortals, it would take much
thought to understand them, she decided. "Do not
mink the gatehouse is without dangers," she warned.
"Less dangerous than the tower does not mean safe,
but, yes, I lifted the door. Below it. a massive stair-
case spiraled down for a distance over twice my height.
It, too, had been trapped but the ancient destruction
had fortunately rendered all but one inoperative. That
one . . ." She sighed and began again. "That one
gave me a small amount of trouble, but in the end I
overcame it."

"Why do I get the feeling we don't want to know
what went on?"

Sokoji looked down at Raulin. her brown eyes se-
rious. "It doesn't matter. I will tell you no more than
I have." She chewed on the edge of her lip—something
the others had never seen her do—made a visible effort
to banish the memory, and continued. "At the bottom
of the stairs there stood another door. I didn't open it
although I had paid the price."

"Why not?" Jago asked gently.

"I couldn't pass," she said simply. "In both height
and width, it had been built too small."

They traveled in silence after that; Raulin's thoughts
on treasure and the battle that would come before he
held it. Crystal's moving beyond the second door, and
Jago wondering what could be so bad that the giant
could not, would not, speak of it.

The next morning they got their first good look at
the pass into Aryalan's valley.

212 TanyaHuff

"Forget it,'* Raulin declared emphatically. "There
has to be another way."

"Not without going many miles. Another month of
traveling perhaps. What's wrong with this path?"

"It's too . . ." Raulin waved his hands about and
Jago finished it for him.

"High."

"Yes?"

Jago gripped Raulin's shoulder. "My brother," he
explained, "hasn't much of a head for heights. Nor,"
he added, taking another look at the pass, "are either
of us related to goats."

From where they stood they could see the ledge they
had to follow dwindling into almost nothing as it
curved around the mountain.

"Look, why don't we just follow the gorge." sug-
gested Raulin. "It's going in the right direction. It's
an easy walk. When it ends, then we can take to the
ledge."

SokoJi shook her head. "The gorge ends in a cliff,
thirty of your body lengths or more high. If you wish
to enter the valley, this is the only way."

Crystal caught both Raulin's hands in hers. "It has
to be wider than it appears," she said gently, "or So-
fcoji would not be able to use it." Her eyes began to
glow and she allowed him to sink a little way into their
emerald depths. "I would never let you fall." The
glow dimmed.

He returned the pressure of her fingers and said,
"My heart believes you; 1*11 see what I can do to con-
vince my feet."

Working quickly, for Sokoji was vague about the
length of the pass and none of them wanted to be
caught on the ledge after dark, they stripped the sleigh
of everything they could carry. Even considering the
size of the packs, looming like great misshapen
growths on the brother's backs, that seemed a distress-
ingly small amount when compared to what remained
on the sleigh.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Jago reassured Crystal

THE LAST WIZARD 213

after she pointed this out. He settled the rope holding
the bedrolls into a more comfortable position on her
shoulders. "We always figured we'd have to leave the
sleigh at some point. With you and Sokoji helping out,
we're taking more than we planned on."

"You planned on being without the shelter?" She
shivered in sympathy, wanning the fingers he held out
to her—knots and lashings needed freedom from mit-
tens.

"It's only for one night," Raulin reminded her.
"The next night we'll be in the gatehouse—Sokoji
promises it's safe—and the night after, we'll be back
at the sleigh. Provided, of course, we haven't all
dashed our brains out falling off the mountain."

"Land on your head, you'll bounce."

"I'd land on yours given half a chance."

Jago reached over and chucked him under the chin.
"Glad to see you've regained your sunny disposition."

Raulin growled something uncomplimentary and
shook his fist at the younger man, but Crystal saw the
tightness leave his face for the first time since he'd
seen the pass.

Slipping a small bag of oatmeal into her pocket—a
pocket Jago was certain already held the teapot—
Sokoji shook her head at their bickering and asked,
"Are you ready then?"

"As ready as we'll ever be," Raulin sighed.

Crystal and Jago nodded.

The giant turned and led the way up the blasted
slope of the Mighty One.

Great chunks of pinkish granite made a straight line
impossible, so they wove a serpentine path around and
over the destruction, often traveling at an angle where
hands were needed as much as feet.

"I don't think," Raulin panted as they rested about
halfway between the sleigh and the rock ledge they
were aiming for, "I have ever been so tired. This pack
weighs two hundred pounds."

"Old and out of shape," gasped Jago, pulling off
his hat and fanning himself with the end of one braid.

214 TanyaHuff

He let a mitten dangle from its string and scratched
vigorously at his beard; sweat was running into it and
it itched. Maybe it would've been a better idea to let
Crystal remove it as she had Raulin's. . . .

"Are your legs sore?" Crystal asked, squatting be-
side Raulin and studying him with a worried frown.
She laid a hand on his thigh and he covered it with
one of his.

"Crystal, we've been walking up and down moun-
tains for weeks now. My legs are like rock." He
groaned without opening his eyes. "My back, how-
ever, is killing me. Thank you," he added as it sud-
denly stopped. "Now, if you could just transport us
to the tower . . ."

"I could make your packs lighter."

"We discussed this already. You use your power for
necessities only. Lightening our packs is no necessity."
He heaved himself to his feet. His undershirt—living up
to its name under four further layers of clothing plus
the great fur overcoat—was soaking wet and sticking to
his back. Drops of sweat trickled down his sides, and,
adding a new sensation to the discomfort, a freezing
wind kept trying to sneak into his sleeves, finding the
smallest of spaces between mittens and cuffs. "On your
feet, junior, we're wasting daylight."

Jago sighed, put his hat on, and tried to stand. The
pack remained where it was and, because he was se-
curely attached, so did Jago. "You could quit laughing
and help," he pointed out when he'd stopped nailing.

Sokoji reached down and lifted him easily to his
feet, her face grave. "Turtles," she said helpfully,
"have much the same problem."

"Thank you." He glared at Raulin, daring him to
say a word and put out a hand to steady himself.
"Chaos!" The comer of granite he'd grabbed had sliced
into his outer mitten, almost going through the heavy
sheepskin. He studied the slash and then the rock.
•'That thing's got an edge like a knife," he marveled.

Raulin ran a cautious thumb along it and stuck the

THE LAST WIZARD 215

thumb in his mouth when it proved not to be cautious
enough.

Jago grinned at him. "All right, don't take my word
for it. . ."He glanced down as his mitt flared green,
but an equal flare in Crystal's eyes decided him against
commenting on the necessity of the power use.

"You'd think these edges would've worn smooth by
now," Raulin said reflectively. "It's been a long time."

Sokoji's eyes lifted to the shattered peak. "The
mountain remembers," she said softly.

"Are you saying this mountain thinks?" asked Rau-
lin.

"It remembers. The mountains are the bones of the
Mother."

"Why don't I find that reassuring?" he muttered as
they began to climb again.

The ledge was wider than it appeared from the
ground and for a little while it edged a slope not much
steeper than the one they'd just come up.

Raulin kept his mind on his feet and his gaze firmly
locked on Sokoji's broad back. He tried not to notice
as the angle of the slope dropped away until the only
word for it became cliff. He reminded himself that on
level ground he had walked a path much narrower than
the width they had here.

Sokoji stopped suddenly and he bumped against her.

"Give me the rope," she said.

Jago took the coil off his shoulder and passed it up
to the giant who tied one end about her waist and
handed the rest back to Raulin.

"Keep about my body length of slack between us,"
she instructed. "Then tie it securely and give it to your
brother so he can do the same.''

"Why so much slack?" Raulin asked, trying to keep
his thoughts off all the possible reasons for the rope.

"If you fall, the slack gives those next to you time
to anchor themselves.'' She caught the look on his face
and patted his shoulder with a comforting but heavy
hand. *'You need not continue. At this point we can
still easily mm and go back."

216 TanyaHuff

' *At this point? Does that mean we can't turn later on?' *

"Yes."

"I had to ask."

"Could be worse," Jago murmured behind him.
"We could be in the snowshoes."

Raulin closed his eyes and leaned against the moun-
tainside, noting absently as he did that it rose up as
perpendicular on the right as it fell away on the other
side. He heard his brother say they could turn back,
that it didn't matter, but on the inside of his lids he saw
a great door of ebony and ruby, wealth enough to buy
them a secure place in the worid. He sighed, opened
his eyes, and finished tying the knot about his waist.

Jago took the offered rope without comment, know-
ing the battle Raulin must be fighting with himself in
order to go on. He'd seen his brother shake when he'd
had to lean out a third-story window. No words could
make it easier, so he offered his silent support.

Crystal felt Raulin's fear, felt Nashawryn twitch in
answer, and hoped that if anything happened she would
not have to fight the dark goddess for Raulin's life.

"Remember," Sokoji told them when they were all
securely tied, "the ledge holds me; you are in little
danger."

Little danger, Raulin repeated to himself. Not no
danger. Little danger. Great. He shuffled forward as
the rope stretching back from the giant grew taut-
shuffled, for if he picked up his feet he would be left
for an instant pecariously balanced on one leg. Inside
his mittens, his hands grew clammy. His heart
thumped so hard he felt sure the vibrations against his
ribs would throw him off the precipice. He tried hold-
ing his breath. It didn't help. His focus narrowed to
the rope tied around Sokoji's waist. The knot bobbed
as she walked and it distracted him enough so that he
could keep moving.

Gradually, he began to relax. The combination of the
slow and steady pace and Sokoji's bulk—his mind simply
refused to acknowledge that me giant could fall—calmed

THE LAST WIZARD 217

him. Then Sokoji turned to face the mountain, her hands
flat against the rock, her feet sliding sideways.

"Hey!" Raulin stopped and as Sokoji felt it through
the rope she looked back over her shoulder at him.
"What are you doing?"

"There is a narrow place here," she explained. *'We
must pass carefully. Do as I do. The path will not
become less wide than your feet are long."

Less wide than your feet are long? What kind of a
measurement is that? Raulin wondered. And he looked
down.

Down.

A long way down.

He swayed. His head felt heavy, almost more than
his neck could support. The world began to tilt.

Suddenly his cheek pressed hard against rock. His
arms were outstretched, his fingers trying to dig into
the granite. His toes attempted to roof. He didn't re-
member turning. He couldn't make the world stop
sliding back and forth. He needed to throw up. His
pack. His heavy, heavy pack. It was out over the edge.
It would pull him down. He couldn't catch his breath.
He couldn't remember how to breathe.

"Raulin!"

Jago's voice slapped against him.

"Take deep breaths. Slow down. Make it last. That's
it. In. And out. In. And out."

The worid began to still.

"In. And out."

"I'm okay," he managed. The rock near his mouth
was wet with drool. His muscles felt like porridge and
that weakness brought back the terror. He couldn't
stand. He wasn't strong enough to hold his own
weight. Before the world began to spin again, Raulin
ground his cheek into the rough face of the mountain
and drove the fear away with pain.

"I'm okay," he repeated after a moment, and this time
he was. "At least, I mink this is as good as it gets."

"Can you walk?" Sokoji asked softly.

The laugh he dredged up went beyond strained to

218 TanyaHuff

Just this side of hysteria. "If it'd get me off this moun-
tain, I*d dance."

He heard the smile in Sokoji's voice.

**I don't think that will be necessary. If you could
just slide your left foot. . . . Yes. Now, the
right. . . ."

One sliding step at a time, they crossed into Aryal-
an's valley.

Safely away from the edge, Raulin took Crystal into
his arms and buried his face in her hair.

She held him tightly and whispered. "I wanted to
help. . ."

"Why didn't you?"

"Tayja said you needed to make it across on your
power, not mine."

He could still feel the fear knotting the muscles of
his back. "Yeah," he said, after a moment, "she could
be right."

Doan stayed close to the Mighty One as he stomped
up into the gully. Unless they looked straight down, the
tiny figures on the ledge would not be able to spot him.

At the north end, where a sheer cliff rose up two
hundred feet or more, he scanned me rock closely then
ran his fingers along a crack invisible Co any eye but a
dwarfs. A perfectly rectangular door swung open,
folding back into the mountain.

Muttering about the dust, he stepped inside and
pulled the door shut behind him. His eyes were red
lights in the darkness and when they'd adjusted enough
he started up the stairs. The watchtower had been de-
stroyed with the mountain, but the lower gate into the
valley should still be clear. Dwarves built to last.

Even destroyed by the Wizards* Doom, and with all
its majesty hidden under snow and ice, the remains of
Aryalan's tower drew the eye. Bits and pieces of half
buried buildings jutted up in the center of a perfect circle,
the shore of the lake still cleariy delineated by a subtle
difference in the shading of the snow. From where they

THE LAST WIZARD 219

stood, distance blurred detail, but the sense of what had
once been, the power, the evil, the beauty, was strong.

"I think we have enough light left to get to the
lake," Raulin noted, squinting west. "It'll give us less
distance to cover tomorrow and we can hit the tower
still fresh."

Sokoji nodded. "That would be best."

"There's not much cover down there," Crystal
pointed out, scanning the valley with her wizard-sight.
She sighed and shifted her gaze to the immediate area.
The shattered mountaintop had a greater air of deso-
lation than the land below. "Still, there's not much
cover up here either. I suppose we might as well get
as close as we can."

"The air feels heavy," Jago said quietly as they
started single file down the slope. "It's almost like
we're being watched."

Raulin snorted, blowing a great silver cloud into the
cold air. "Thank you very much, Jago." He placed his
feet carefully in the giant's bootprints--stepping anywhere
else left the brothers floundering hip-deep in snow. "All
we need is to have spirits haunting this place."

"As to that," Sokoji's voice floated back, sounding
thoughtful but unconcerned, "who knows what hap-
pens when a wizard dies? My sisters and I spent some
time considering it but reached no answer."

"Some time?"

"Ten years and four months."

"And came up with no answers?'*

"Perhaps the Mother's son knows, but he keeps the
secrets of his people."

Raulin twisted to look at Jago. "I don't suppose he's
around?"

Jago shook his head. It didn't seem necessary to men-
don that Lord Death hadn't been around for a number
of days. Whenever the Mother's son was mentioned, a
combination of yearning and fear sang along the link
stretching between him and Crystal and as he saw no
way to help, he had no desire to add to her burdens.

Behind them, the mountain rumbled.

220 TanyaHuff

Slowly, like puppets pulled by a single string, they
turned.

A ball of snow, a hand's span wide, smashed against
CrystaTs legs.

Another followed, then another.

The rumble came not from the mountain, but from
the mass of snow beginning to move down it.

CrystaTs face paled as the hint of a power she
thought she should remember brushed lightly across
hers. Not a wizard's power, not quite. Then the mem-
ory slipped away in the need of the moment. Her eyes
flared and she grabbed Raulin and Jago each by a hand.
She could feel their trust in her and it gave her strength.

She met Sokoji's eyes.

The giant nodded. "I can hurry when I must.**

The snow beneath their feet began to shift.

"Run," commanded Crystal.

And so they did.

Crystal wrapped the brothers in her power and the three
of them almost flew over me snow. Their feet barely
touched before lifting again, the packs weighed nothing
on their backs, and the wind helped carry them along. In
spite of me knowledge that they raced disaster, both men
felt a thrill of pleasure in me effortless speed.

Sokoji moved a little ahead, running with great
bounding strides.

With a screech, the avalanche finally broke free and
surged down the slope, gathering force as it roared
toward them.

"Chaos," Raulin swore, risking a glance back over
his shoulder.

And Chaos it appeared to be. Boulders ground to-
gether along the front edge of the mass of moving
snow, a churning wall of destruction rising thirty feet
into the air. The screaming rumble grew in volume
until it drowned out thought and reason.

They'd covered two thirds of the distance to the wiz-
ard's lake, nearly deafened but unharmed, and Crys-
tal began to feel secure. Even without drawing from
the barriers, she had sufficient power left to carry the

t
i   -.
i      '

THE LAST WIZARD 221

three of them to flat ground where the beast behind
would die of its own weight.

Then Jago stumbled and fell.

By the time she yanked him to his feet, the avalanche
was upon them, dragging both brothers from her grip.

"NO!"

She whirled, fingers spread, and threw her power at
the enemy.

The wave of snow and stone slammed into a wall of
green.

And stopped. And fused.

The green faded.

Ears ringing in the silence. Crystal stared at the white
cliff rising above her. She felt whole, complete in a way
she hadn't since Kraydak's defeat- But how? she wondered
and almost cried when the question shattered something
fragile within her and the goddesses returned.

She turned as Jago gently touched her arm.

"You were whole," he said softly. "I felt it." That
Crystal had saved them seemed of less importance than
this.

"Was whole," she agreed and swallowed the lump
that had formed in her throat. "Was."

The whole, added Tayja's voice, is greater than the
sum of its parts.

Not now, Tayja. The finding—then the losing—of self
left a pain too deep for even those goddesses who had
proven her friends to be endured.

"Come on," Raulin slipped an arm about her and
Crystal rested gratefully against his side, "just a little
farther and you can sit down. You'll feel better with a
cup of tea inside you and a fire lighting the night."

"Raulin . . ."

"What?"

**0h, nothing." Jago decided against explaining. He
almost wished he had his brother's calm acceptance of the
worid. He knew that in Raulin's eyes Crystal had merely
done what wizards do and now, like a porter who had
strained something carrying too heavy a load, she needed
taking care of. With one last awe-filled look at the tow-

222 TanyaHuff

ering pile of snow, he fell into step behind them and
wished, for Crystal's sake, it could be that easy.

Sokoji waited for them at the end of the lake. She
studied Crystal's face as the wizard approached. Sat-
isfied with whatever it was she saw, she pointed up at
the blasted peak of the Mighty One.

Against the pink granite of the mountain, almost
glowing in the last of the afternoon sun, lay a great
black dragon. The Doom of the ancient wizards.

Crystal's mouth went dry and then she realized the
beast was stone.

She reached out with what little power she had left
and touched only rock.

The path of the avalanche began at the dragon.

She recalled the power that had brushed against her
just before the mountain shook on" its load of snow.
When she woke Kraydak's Doom—the dragon created
in his arrogance from the body of the Mother—she had
felt the same type of power.

"What is it?" Raulin asked, squinting in an attempt
to make out details. At this distance he saw only black
on pink.

"Aryalan's dragon. Aryalan's Doom.**

"Is it alive?"

"No, not for years."

The brothers traced the swath of destruction left by
the snowslide and exchanged identical glances.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes." She tore her gaze from the graceful line of
limb and scale and met first Raulin's then Jago*s wor-
ried eyes. "Whatever memory of power my presence
may have triggered is gone now. There's nothing there
but stone." She sighed and added in a small voice, "I
thought someone promised me a cup of tea?"

And the marvel of the dragon was banished in mak-
ing camp.

And if Crystal lay awake that night and wondered
what else would be triggered by her presence, no one
knew.

Twelve

The wind had rippled the surface snow into a parody
of the lake it covered and the tiny ridges were all that
disturbed the unbroken expanse of white. Staring
across from shore to island, the lake appeared wider
than it had from up on the mountain. Jago rubbed his
eyes and tried to bring the remains of the gatehouse
into focus, but the entire area persisted in wavering;

one moment sharp and clear, the next no more than a
soft gray shadow against the white. He snapped his
snow goggles down off his forehead but, although he
no longer needed to squint, the scene remained un-
changed.

"Crystal," he called without turning, and felt rather
than saw her step to his side. "Look toward the island
and tell me what you see."

Crystal looked out over the lake, frowned, and shook
her head. Her eyes began to glow, living emeralds re-
flecting the morning sunlight. "I see . . ." She paused
and shook her head again. "I don't know what I see,
exactly."

"You see one of Aryalan's remaining defenses,"
Sokoji told them, moving to stand at their backs. "Do
not try to puzzle it out for too long."

"Because we can't?" Jago asked.

"Because you'll soon begin to think of nothing else,
neither food nor sleep nor drink, and will eventually
die still staring across the water." The giant waved a
hand at the snow covered ice. "Or what passes for
water these days.

223

224 TanyaHuff

The full effect may not be working, but I advise you
not to risk it."

Jago pointedly turned his back on both lake and
tower. "Okay," he said slowly, "if we can't look at
the island, how do we cross?"

"Why, by not looking at it."

Raulin grinned at the implied "of course" on the
end of Sokoji's answer. "Really, Jago," he teased,
bending over the campstove where their breakfast
cooked, "use your head.'*

"Why not use yours? We'll need something solid to
test the ice." Jago leaned forward and grimaced at the
pale brown mass in the pot that was just beginning to
bubble and steam. "And then again, we could just
throw that stuff in front of us, let it harden, and we'll
have a bridge."

"Ignoring the insult to my cooking," Raulin sighed,
"I have to agree with the sentiment. I am definitely
tired of oatmeal. Even if Crystal does power out the
lumps." He raised the wooden spoon and the sticky
clump on the end fell back into the pot with a loud
and unappetizing splat.

Clicking her tongue. Crystal dropped a handful of
snow into the pot. It turned to water as it hit and began
to loosen the gluelike consistency of the porridge, "To
begin with, you've got your proportions wrong." She
added just a little more snow water and the spoon
briskly stirred the liquid in.

"Do mortals usually waste time on trivialities be-
fore going into the unknown?" SokojJ asked, her head
to one side, her expression both puzzled and faintly
amused as she watched the trio gathered around the
campstove.

The two mortals and the wizard looked up from the
porridge pot, looked at each other, had no need to
look out toward the tower, and said simultaneously,
"Yes."

Sokoji nodded and sat down on the well-packed
patch of snow she'd been using since the night before,
her weight having sculpted it into comfortable con-

THE LAST WIZARD 225

tours. "That explains your behavior. I had always be-
lieved mortals preferred to get danger over with
quickly. Perhaps some cinnamon would help." She
offered a small bag pulled from one of her many pock-
ets.

"Help to get it over with?" Raulin asked.

"Help the porridge."

"Oh. Right. Do you always carry cinnamon with
you?"

Sokoji reviewed the recent contents of her pockets.

"No," she said at last.

Breakfast lasted longer than the oatmeal—even im-
proved by the cinnamon—warranted. No one offered
an opinion as to why they were so strangely unwilling
to start on this, the last leg of their adventure. Con-
versations started, stopped, restarted, and sputtered
out.

^    "I'll never forget," Raulin broke into the uncom-
fortable silence that had fallen after the last abortive
attempt to find an acceptable topic, "the look on Crys-
tal's face when she picked herself out of that snow-
drift." A laugh hovered around the edges of his voice.

"When?" Crystal shifted around to face him. "Af-
ter you blithely pitched me off the sleigh?"

"Yeah," he admitted, winking, "then."

And that began a series of reminiscences, as if this
were their last evening together and the next day they
would all be back in separate and safe lives.

Raulin and Jago traded banter. Raulin and Crystal
traded glances almost physical in intensity. Crystal and
Jago shared a quiet moment in complete accord.

We 've redefined ourselves, Jago realized, when talk
shifted away from the personal to the dwindling supply
of tea. Reinforced who we are and what we mean to
each other. He glanced in the direction of the tower,
not attempting to keep his eyes on it when it slid out
of view.

"I've changed my mind," he muttered into his tea.
"I don't want to go."

"You never wanted to go," Raulin pointed out.

226 TanyaHuff

No, he hadn't. But he couldn't let Raulin go alone,
not back in the beginning, not now—and Jago knew
Raulin would go on. Not because he didn't feel the
menace radiating from the island—menace that kept
Jago's mouth dry and his stomach in knots—but be-
cause he wouldn't let the fear it caused stop him. An
admirable trait, Jago had to admit, remembering the
battle his brother had fought and won on the ledge into
the valley, but not one likely to allow either of them
to die comfortably of old age.

By the time the last cup of tea was finally finished,
the pot dried and stowed away, the sun was a pale
yellow disc high in the silver sky.

"I'm better at beginnings," Raulin admitted to Jago
as they hoisted on their packs. He looked back at Crys-
tal and then forward at the still shifting tower. "I've
always been lousy at endings."

"Then think of this as another beginning," Jago
told him, yanking a braid free from under the shoulder
strap. "Things change, but they don't end."

"Oh, very profound, junior."

Jago tied on his hat, his violet eyes twinkling under
the fur edge. "That's why mom liked me best."

Crystal stared up at the distant dragon, her wizard-
sight caressing each strong and graceful curve. Life
had left it thousands of years before and yet it still had
a beauty that caused the breath to catch in her throat.
She stood almost perfectly still, mesmerized, only her
right hand moving, blindly weaving her hair around
the fingers of the left.

"What are you thinking of, child?" Sokoji asked,
coming silently up beside her.

"How it must have looked in the air with the sun
turning its scales to black fire and its eyes glowing
red."

"Its eyes are closed. How do you know they were
red?"

"Weren't they?"

The giant nodded. "Yes. But how did you know?"

"Kraydak's colors were gold and blue and so was

THE LAST WIZARD 227

Kraydak's dragon. Aryalan's colors were black and red
and this was Aryalan's dragon."

"Not her dragon, child. That is the mistake the an-
cient ones made, claiming ownership of the Mother's
body."

"I wonder," she said dreamily, giving no indication
she'd heard Sokoji's last words, "how a dragon would
look in silver and green."

"A dangerous thought, wizard."

At the giant's tone. Crystal shook herself free of her
fascination with the great beast and turned to face So-
koji. "But only a thought," she said clearly. "I am
not like those ancient wizards." Under Sokoji's con-
tinuing gaze, she drew herself up, her shoulders went
back and her chin rose. Her hair spread out around
her, a living silver frame, and her eyes flashed like
jewels amidst the ice and snow.

Sokoji, whose memory went back almost to the
world's creation, smiled. "No," she conceded, "you
are not like the other wizards."

"Hey!" Raulin yelled from the edge of the ice.
"You two going to stand and talk all day? These packs
arc heavy!"

*    "I will never understand mortals," Sokoji muttered
as the two women walked forward. "First they spend
the greater part of the morning dawdling and now they
must instantly be off."

"An unpredictable race," Crystal agreed, conven-
iently forgetting for the moment her own mortal heri-
tage.

"Unpredictable." Sokoji turned the word over in
her mouth. "Yes, I suppose that's one word for them."

The snow covering the lake was dry and hard packed
and it squeaked under boot soles.

"How do we know the ice is thick enough to hold
us?" Jago asked, when they were about twenty feet
from shore.

"Well," Raulin drawled, "if you're not breathing
water, it's thick enough."

"Maybe we should be checking it." After weeks of

228 TanyaHuff

traveling through the mountains, crossing such a large
open area left him feeling exposed and vulnerable. The
ice wasn't really the problem, but it would do until
something else came along. He could hear Raulin's
own nervousness in his flippant answers.

"We are checking it out; we're sending Sokoji out
ahead. Anything'll hold her will hold us."

"Don't worry, Jago." Sokoji smiled back over her
shoulder at him- "During the second and third winter
moons, the ice is as thick as it ever gets. We will not
fall through."

Raulin reached out and tugged on a floating strand
of Crystal's hair. "You're very quiet," he said. "Cop-
per for your thoughts?"

"I was just thinking that this is really the only time
of the year you could get to the tower, when the lake
is frozen solid enough to walk across." She waved a
hand back at the shore where clumps of stunted trees
raised twisted branches barely above the level of the
snow. "In the summer you'd need a boat and you cer-
tainly couldn't build one from those. Nor could you
get one over the pass. In the spring and fall, while the
mountains are saturated with water, you couldn't get
into the valley at all, the footing would be too treach-
erous."

She paused and looked up at Raulin. "And if I
hadn't gotten to the demon before you, you'd be dead
and I'd be . . ." The memory of Nashawryn breaking
free tightened her throat around the words. ". . . I'd
be ... well, I wouldn't be, and the map would have
never been used- And if Sokoji hadn't met with us,
we'd still be heading toward the wrong valley."

"Your point?" Raulin asked.

"Why did you decide to travel in winter? You've got
to admit, it isn't when people usually go north."

"In the winter we could use the sleigh and carry a
lot more gear. No bugs, few wild animals. It just
seemed to make the most sense."

"What about the weather?"

Raulin tucked his chin deeper in his scarf. "The

THE LAST WIZARD 229

lesser of a number of evils. You were traveling in the
winter ..."

"But seasons don't mean anything to me." She
searched for other ways to convince him. "If I hadn't
met that brindle, I would never have used enough
power for the demon to hear me and call ..."

Maybe. Maybe not.

"Crystal . . ."

*'. . . and I'm sure Sokoji has a logical reason for
being in these mountains as well."

Maybe. Maybe not.

"Crystal, what are you getting at?"

She sighed and pushed both her hands up through
her hair. "I think someone, or something wants us—
you, me, and Jago, possibly Sokoji too—at that
tower."

"What!"

"Well, you've got to admit, it's a few too many co-
incidences to be plausible."

Raulin threw one arm around her shoulders. "I've
got to believe nothing of the kind. You're just a little
spooked is all." He noticed the giant watching and
added. "Right, Sokoji?"

"In the world of the Mother-creator," Sokoji said
solemnly, "coincidences are few and far between.
Nothing happens without reason."

"Are you telling me you believe what Crystal just
said?"

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Don't you start," Crystal growled.

Sokoji looked puzzled.

"I'm sorry." Crystal hoped she sounded sincere.
She couldn't tell over Eegri's giggles.

Jago wondered if he should mention that he'd been
mulling over the circumstances that had brought the
four of them to this place at this time and had come
to much the same conclusion. He opened his mouth
to speak, caught sight of the expression on his broth-
er's face—Raulin clearly anticipated what he was going
to say—and decided to keep silent.

230 TanyaHuff

With the remains of the gatehouse, and the island it
stood on, unreliable as a guide, it was difficult to de-
termine both how far they'd walked and how far they
still had to go. Judging distance by the shore they'd
left helped very little, for the farther they walked over
the lake the more the shore took on the same charac-
teristics as the island.

"Look at the bright side," Raulin remarked as they
continued, "this is some of the easiest walking we've
done for weeks. It's flat, it's clear, we're not plunging
through drifts, we're not..."

The ice groaned, a long drawn out sound that set
teeth on edge and could be felt up through the soles
of their feet.

"... we're not likely to live to see the other side,"
Raulin finished, white showing all around his eyes.
"What, in the name of Chaos, was that?"

"Just the ice settling," Crystal explained, moisten-
ing her lips. Knowing the cause barely lessened the
sound's chilling effect. "Something to do with thermal
patterns in the lake.'* The centaurs had spent a great
deal of time, many years before, teaching her the ways
of the world. Knowledge, they reasoned, brought re-
spect. She wished now that she could remember more
of it. "We're perfectly safe."

The ice groaned again.

Raulin and Jago went rigid. Even their clothing
seemed to stiffen.

"Look," she realized they believed her reassur-
ances and she understood that belief had little to do
with their reaction to the sound, "Sokoji hasn't
stopped."

The giant had pulled four or five body lengths ahead
and continued to walk unhurriedly toward the island.

The brothers glanced at the giant, at each other, and
simultaneously stepped forward. The footing re-
mained solid.

Jago sighed deeply and banished thoughts of plum-
meting down into icy depths, the cold and the water
racing to see which could kill first. I've got to do some-

THE LAST WIZARD 231

thing about my imagination, he thought as he kept
moving, watching Raulin shrug off even the memory
of the fear. Raulin lived wholly in the present and Jago
envied him the ability. He grinned as he pictured his
brother, resplendent with new wealth, amid the cor-
rupt and fearful aristocrats of the Empire who would,
like so many others, take Raulin's bluntness for stu-
pidity. The vision so enthralled him, he didn't notice
he'd struck a patch of clear ice until it was brought
forcibly to his attention.

"Oof!"

The pack and his many layers of clothing acted as a
cushion, but the unexpected fall knocked the breath
out of him. He glared up at Raulin and Crystal, who,
seeing him unhurt, began to snicker. Even Sokoji's
mouth twitched although she, at least, made no sound.

"No need to help," Jago hid his own laughter under
an exaggerated sigh—it probably had looked pretty
funny—"I can get up by myself." He threw himself
over onto his stomach, silently cursing the weight of
the pack, got his knees under him, and paused a mo-
ment, gathering the strength and balance necessary to
stand.

The ice, an arm's length from his nose, was a green-
ish black. No, he realized with wonder, the ice—ice
thick enough to support the giant's passage—was per-
fectly clear. The water below it was a greenish black.

If the glassmakers could learn to do this ... he
thought admiringly.

And then his thoughts froze.

A shadow, darker than the water, solid, and large,
passed below the ice.

And the ice became, in comparison, very fragile.

"Hey, Jago, you all right?"

The shadow passed again and Jago knew, beyond
any doubt, it was aware of him. Aware of all of them.

A long, trailing something, as thick around as So-
koji's thigh brushed against the lower surface of the
ice.

Panic controlling his arms and legs, Jago scrabbled

232 TanyaHuff

back onto the nearest patch of snow and sat panting.
He could no longer see it and that helped, but he still
knew it was there. Knew it waited. Knew it wanted.

"Jago?" Raulin dropped to one knee and took hold
of the younger man's shoulders. "What is it?"

"Something . . ."He took a shuddering breath and
tried again. "Something under the ice."

"Are you certain?" Sokoji asked.

Jago looked up at the giant and nodded.

"Then perhaps it would be best if we kept walk-
ing."

"Good idea," Raulin agreed, standing. "Present a
moving target."

"And get off the ice," added Crystal, pulling Jago
to his feet.

He clung to her hands for a moment, taking comfort
in the strength that had all but lifted both him and the
extra weight of the pack, feeling the warm pressure of
her fingers through his mitts.

"Take a wizard to breach a wizard's tower," he said,
a plea for reassurance in his voice.

Crystal met his eyes and, for an instant, openly wore
the mantle of her power. Even shattered as it was, held
together by the wizard's will alone, it blazed with a
painful glory. Then it faded, replaced by the concern
of a friend. "I didn't stop an avalanche," she told him
with exaggerated pique, "in order to feed you to a
fish."

The remaining distance to the island became the
longest distance Jago ever walked. With every step, he
expected the ice to crack and break and let the hunger
that it sheltered out to feed. He didn't doubt Crystal's
power. He didn't want to test it.

The others were nervous, he saw it in the way they
carried themselves; movements a little jerky, heads
cocked to one side and brows drawn down as if to give
eyes and ears a better chance to give warning. They
all avoided the clear patches of ice.

When he stepped up on land at last, relief hit with

THE LAST WIZARD 233

such force that if Raulin hadn't grabbed his arm he
would've sagged to the ground.

"I'm okay," he protested, embarrassed at his weak-
ness.

"Sure you are," Raulin said noncommittally, and
held on until he felt Jago could stand on his own.

As they walked away from the shore, Jago viciously
buried the thought that threatened to immobilize him.
Tb get off the island, they would have to recross the
ice.

The island looked very little different from the lake;

a smaller circle, about a hand's span higher, and cov-
ered by that same hard snow. They could see the ruin
of the gatehouse clearly now. Here, a wall, still vi-
brantly red even after centuries, stood alone and un-
supported. There, the flip of a tiled roof poked out of
the white. From the center of the island rose a small
square building, still half buried under drifts.

"But it's only . . ." Raulin raised his hand horizon-
tally to about mid-chest. "We won't be able to stand
up."

"I stood in it," Sokoji reminded him. "It was not
built level with the surface of the island. There are
stairs around the corner."

"Is that where you sprang the trap?" Crystal asked,
flexing long fingers, her hair rippling on the still air.
She could feel power waiting in this place and it grew
stronger as they neared the center.

"One of them. The ancient wizards trusted no one,
least of all their fellows. Their towers, their strong-
holds were built to keep out," the giant paused and
searched for the correct word, "visitors."

"Don't you mean intruders?"

She shook her head. "No, their paranoia was never
that justified."

Crystal considered what it would mean to trust no
one and to have no one trust you. "They musfve been
very lonely," she said softly.

Sokoji studied the last living wizard, her face
thoughtful. "Yes, they must have been."

234 TanyaHuff

Indicating Raulin with one hand and Jago with the
other. Crystal smiled. Here was her trust. "Don't
worry, Sokoji."

Sokoji nodded and half-smiled, understanding what
Crystal was telling her, but still looking thoughtful.

"The traps ..." Raulin prodded. They were still
advancing toward the gatehouse and he wanted to know
what they'd face before they arrived.

"All the traps I sprang were tied to the life forces
of the Elder Races.''

"Which means?" Jago asked, although he had a
nasty suspicion he knew.

"Others must exist tied to the life forces of mortals
and wizards."

"Which we'll have to find?"

"Yes."

"But Aryalan's been dead for thousands of years/*
Raulin protested. "How much trouble can something
this old give us?"

"It almost killed me," Sokoji told them, her voice
even slower and weightier than usual. * *If Aryalan were
still alive and able to feed power and direction to her
guardians, I could not have won."

"Lovely."

"Thank you."

Raulin flushed. "No, I didn't mean ... oh, never
mind."

Jago, whose line of sight took in Sokoji's face,
smiled in spite of the situation. He simply hadn't been
able to convince his brother that the giant possessed a
sense of humor.

In the years since Sokoji had been inside the tower,
winter had refilled the stairwell leading down into the
gatehouse, leaving only a dimple in the surface of the
snow.

Raulin let his pack crash to the ground and straight-
ened up with a groan. "Looks like shoveling," he
sighed.

They could see the top lintel of the door, carved
with fantastic birds and beasts, but nothing more.

THE LAST WIZARD 235

"At least a body length of shoveling if that door's
standard size," Jago added, dropping his pack with a
little more control but an equal mount of relief. "And
if Sokoji went through it, I'm betting we've her body
length to clear, not ours."

Crystal stepped into the dimple and spread her
hands. The snow flashed green and disappeared. She
stood at the top of a broad flight of black marble stairs.
At the bottom loomed a door, also black, and large
enough for the giant to enter without so much as hav-
ing to incline her head.

"That may not have been wise," Sokoji said sol-
emnly. "Any power remaining here will now know a
wizard has returned."

"Any power remaining knew the moment I entered
the valley." Crystal pointed back to where the dragon
rested. "That avalanche was no accident."

"What's done is done,** Raulin declared philosoph-
ically. "And what's done beats shoveling." He slid
over the lip of snow and onto'the stairs. The small
flurry he brought with him melted away as it touched
the steps. He shook off a mitten, bent and drew a fin-
ger along the slick surface. The luster of the marble
made it look wet. It wasn't.

"I destroyed the trap set on the stairs for my kind,"
Sokoji informed him, "but there may be others set for
yours. Shall I come with you, or will you descend
alone?"

Raulin looked down the length of black, each step
as perfect and sharp edged as the day it had been set.
"Alone," he decided. "Less distractions."

"Careful," Jago warned, advancing to the edge but
no farther. "Check everything."

"Don't teach grandma to suck eggs, little brother."
A memory stirred and he heard his master sergeant
screaming orders. Amazing the things you pick up amid
the rape and slaughter, he thought, inspecting each
step before moving onto it. He knew marble could be
trapped in the same ways as wood—stairs were stairs,

236 TanyaHuff

after all—but he suspected he was missing any number
of nasty . . .

Stone snapped down on stone.

Raulin froze. Until he saw which way the danger
lay, going back could be as deadly as going ahead.

A panel in the base of the door burst open.

Raulin got a vague glimpse of scales and claws and
teeth. He had time to shape them into a large and ugly
lizard but no time for fear before the thing was on him.
He twisted, fell. and slid almost half the remaining
distance to the door.

The lizard overshot. Claws scrabbling for purchase
on the marble, it whirled to attack.

A piercing noise split the air.

It reared, tail lashing.

Jago whistled again.

It charged.

Jago stood unmoving, smiling slightly.

As it struck, it disappeared.

His heart loud in his ears, Raulin levered himself
up onto his knees and yanked his scarf away from his
mouth. He felt like he couldn't get enough air.
"Thanks, Crystal," he panted. "That's another one I
owe you."

"I didn't do anything," Crystal told him. "It was
Jago."

"Jago?" Raulin twisted around to face his brother.
"What did you do?" he demanded.

Jago shrugged. "It was a gowie lizard,'* he ex-
plained. "They live in very hot climates. Coming out
into this kind of cold would stop it dead." They all
watched—as if noticing for the first time—while he
huffed out a white plume of breath illustrating the tem-
perature. "In fact, the cold would probably kill it."

"Fascinating," Raulin growled. "But what did you
do?"

Jago shrugged again. "I disbelieved it."

"An illusion?"

"Seems that way."

THE LAST WIZARD 237

Raulin flushed. "I feel like an idiot." He got to his
feet. "That was a mortal trap?" he asked Sokoji.

The giant spread her hands. "I saw nothing."

"Illusion!" Raulin spat out the word. "I should've
known. Kraydak used illusion all the time. I've seen
them before. Chaos, I've fought with them."

"Well, I've created them and I didn't identify it un-
til it disappeared." Crystal's self-mocking tones lifted
Raulin out of the guilt he seemed ready to fall into.
"Next time you'll Icnow."

"Next time," Sokoji put in, standing on the top
step, "it will be real and you'll die. A wizard's tower
holds stranger things than gowie lizards."

"That's not very encouraging." Crystal frowned at
the giant.

Sokoji thought about it for a moment.

"No," she agreed. "It isn't."

"Do you want me to come down?" Crystal asked,
eyeing Raulin with concern.

He shook his head and rubbed an elbow that had
slammed into the marble. "I'm okay, just bruised.
Anyway," he measured the distance he'd fallen and
the distance he still had to go, "I'm almost there."

The next seven steps were clear. He reached the door
safely, turned and grinned- "If that was her attempt
at keeping mortals out, I can't say as I'm very im-
pressed." He pulled off his hat and wiped beads of
sweat off his forehead. "It's warmer down here."

"And warmer still inside," Sokoji said.

Inside.

Raulin turned back to the door, feeling dwarfed. It
rose taller than the giant and spread almost twice So-
koji's not inconsiderable width. Its six lacquered pan-
els were carved with marvelously detailed scenes of
wild animals neariy impossible to see at more than a
few inches away, for the black absorbed all the light
that fell upon it. The ruin of a targe brass lock domi-
nated the middle right side.

"What a mess." He ran his fingers over the broken
metal. "Looks like Sokoji put her fist through this on

238 TanyaHuff

that last visit." Peering back over one shoulder, he
raised an eyebrow in the giant's direction. Sokoji in-
clined her head, admitting the action.

"Okay, there's no sense putting all our eggs in one
basket. You three stay there until I check this out."

Crystal began a protest, but Jago gripped her arm
and shook his head.

"He wants us out of the way when he opens the
door."

"But what about him?"

"He knows what he's doing."

But both of them realized that if something came
out the door, knowledge would do little good.

"It swings in," he called, placing his hand against
the shattered lock. He took a deep breath, pushed, and
dove to one side in the same motion.

Silently, the great door swung open.

Soft golden light spilled out over the threshold.

"Anything?" he asked as Crystal and Jago dropped
to their knees and even Sokoji bent to get a better line
of sight.

"Nothing." Jago said. Crystal and Sokoji nodded
agreement.

"Nothing?" Raulin repeated, shrugged, pushed
away from the wall, and stepped inside.

The gatehouse appeared the same size on the inside
as on the outside. Based on what Crystal had told him,
Raulin knew that wasn't always a given in wizard cre-
ated buildings. The soft golden light radiated down
from all but one corner of the ceiling where the tiles
were broken, dull, and gray. A great diagonal gouge
marked one wall; the others were smooth and all four
were bright red. They reminded him of raw meat. Not
a particularily comforting analogy.

The floor was the same black marble as the stairs
and in the center was a massive slab of ebony. It took
Raulin a moment to understand why the ebony ap-
peared to have been splashed liberally with blood and
then he remembered what Sokoji had said- Rubies;

'"£

?'
•^

THE LAST WIZARD 239

stones ranging in size from tiny flecks to ovals too
large to completely fit on his palm.

Their beauty as much as the wealth they represented
tugged at him, drew him forward. So many and so red.
Burning . . .

He caught himself in midstride, shook his head like
a dog coming out of water or a man out of a dream,
and put the foot back where he had lifted it from.
Slowly and methodically, keeping his eyes off the
gems, he searched the room for less obvious traps. At
the spot beside the ebony slab where feet would have
to be braced to raise it, he grunted and stopped a care-
ful arm's length away.

"Never a rock around when you need one,'* he
sighed, unlacing his boot. He unwound his scarf and
wrapped the boot in the center of it. Holding both
ends in one hand, he swung the whole thing around
like a flexible hammer and slammed it down on the
pressure plate.

Sword blades immediately thrust up from the floor
at random points throughout^the room.

"Raulin!" Through the open door, Jago saw the
flash of steel and flung himself down the stairs.

Crystal tried to follow, but Sokoji held her.

"Wait," said the giant, "until you know he needs
you."

Jago reached the door and clutched at the frame to
stop his headlong rush-

"I'm okay," Raulin reassured him. stepping back.
The razor edge had only parted the hairs of his heavy
coat and not even cut the hide beneath. "Dumb luck
strikes again." He glared. "And who told you you
could come down here?"

"Just seeing if you'd fallen asleep, you were taking
so long/'

"You always were lousy at waiting for things."

Both men wore expressions much gentler than their
words.

Raulin rapped the boot he held against the flat of a

240 TanyaHuff

blade. "You might as well come in, this is as secure
as it gets. Call Sokoji and Crystal."

Sokoji reacted to the call by lifting both abandoned
packs. With one dangling from each hand, she turned
to Crystal.

"Go," Crystal told her. "We know it's safe for you.
I'll wait until you're off the stairs."

The giant nodded and descended.

Crystal waited, readying her power, trying to re-
main calm. Doubt would only rouse the goddesses and
leave her less able to deal with whatever traps Aryalan
had left. / dealt with a living Kraydak, she reminded
herself. This should be nothing in comparison.

Sokoji reached the bottom and Crystal started down.

And it was nothing. Nothing at all.

Standing safely in the doorway. Crystal forced her-
self to relax. Apparently Aryalan had set no traps for
her fellow wizards on the stairs. Or the traps that had
been set had faded over the years. Or the trap was too
subtle to be immediately obvious. The litany tightened
her stomach back into knots and she sighed.

"Hey, Crystal," Raulin's voice came muffled around
the finger he'd stuck in is mouth, "Could you do some-
thing about these?" He waved at the blades with his
free hand. "They're a Uttle in the way."

"Are you all right?" she demanded.

"He's fine," Jago said, grinning like an idiot. "Just
clumsy."

Raulin's grin grew just as wide. "You're the one
who suddenly wanted to dance."

"Dance?" Crystal frowned, then caught sight of the
rubies. "Ah, dance."

The blades glowed briefly green and slumped to the
floor.

"The use of power may set off other traps," Sokoji
pointed out.

Crystal shrugged. "It didn't. And I don't think it
matters."

"She's right, Sokoji," Raulin enthused, stripping
off his overcoat and dropping the heavy fur to the floor

THE LAST WIZARD 241

by his hat and mittens and scarf. "It doesn't matter.
There's more than enough treasure here. We don't have
to go into the tower. This is as bad as it gets."

Only Jago saw Crystal's face at that moment. It was
so carefully blank he grew suspicious.

"Are we still in danger?" he asked.

"I think not," Sokoji answered. She stretched back
her arm and pushed the door shut. "As your brother
said, you have no need to go into the tower."

Shrugging out of his own coat, Jago allowed himself
to be convinced. Crystal could have any number of
reasons for hiding what she thought, any number.

"Sokoji," Raulin sat down to pull his boot on and
prodded one of the now flaccid swords, "why didn't
you set off this trap? Didn't you try to lift the slab?"

"I saw the plate—I think it is meant to be seen—
and leaned over from the other side. A position only
one of my kind would be both tall and strong enough
to use." She paused, remembering. "I loosed some-
thing else."

All eyes turned to the gouged wall and the dark cor-
ner of ceiling, then back to the giant.

"I won," she said, and fell silent.

The silence lengthened.

Raulin rose to his knees and pulled his dagger.
"Well, come on," he waved the point at Jago, "our
future isn't going to pop out of that door unaided."

"Are you sure it's safe?" Jago asked, tossing his
braids back behind his shoulders as he knelt beside his
brothers -

"The gems will not be trapped."

All three, Raulin, Jago, and Crystal, turned to look
at Sokoji who paused in pulling the teapot from a
pocket to return their multiple stare.

"To you this is a fortune," she explained. "To
Aryalan it was merely a decoration. Wizards have no
use for wealth."

Raulin nodded, accepting the statement at face
value. He slipped his dagger point beneath a small
rectangular jewel and began to pry it loose.

242 TanyaHuff

Jago watched Crystal's face for a moment, wishing
their link was stronger. He'd heard a double meaning
in Sokoji's words and didn't understand what it was.
Crystal knew, he'd bet his share of these "decora-
tions" on it. Then it hit him. Wizards have no use for
wealth. Not had. Have.

"Crystal."

When she turned to face him, he knew the answer.

"You're going into the tower, aren't you?"

"Yes."

Metal rang on ebony as Raulin's blade fell from his
hand.

Thirteen

"We're going with you and that's that."

"No, you aren't." Crystal thrust both hands up
through her hair and paced the length of the room. At
the far end she turned, marshaled her arguments for
what seemed like the thousandth time, took a deep
breath, and sighed- "What can I say to convince you
two to stay here?" she asked plaintively, leaning
against the bright red wall and sliding down it to the
floor.

Raulin came over and sat beside her, wrapping one
arm around her shoulders. "If you go down there, so
do we."

She twisted to face him. "I have to go down there.
The tower is too dangerous to just leave. If even a
small fraction of Aryalan's power remains . . . You
know the sorts of weapons a wizard wields."

"We know."

"I'm the only one who can destroy the threat and
I've got to do it now, before someone else stumbles
on it, learns to use it, and tries to start the madness
all over again."

"We understand that."

"If you go with me, I'll be too busy taking care of
you to look out for myself. You'll be putting me in
danger."

Raulin caught Crystal's flailing hand and held it.
"And what if you need taking care of? Who's there
for you?"

Crystal looked across to where the giant sat by the
door. "Sokoji?" she pleaded.
243

244 TanyaHuff

**He is right,*' Sokoji said placidly. "If you are not
like the ancient wizards, prove it now. In their pride,
they denied friendship and thought only they were ca-
pable. They refused to admit others could stand beside
them; saw no strengths but their own."

Crystal winced, but Raulin flashed a triumphant grin
at his brother.

"Crystal," Jago dropped to one knee before her.
"Could you watch a friend you loved go into danger
while you stayed safely behind?"

"No," she murmured, and then louder, "no."

"Then don't ask it of us. Please."

She rubbed her cheek against Raulin's arm where it
rested on her shoulder. "You two are crazy. You know
that, don't you?"

Recognizing capitulation, Raulin smiled in agree-
ment and Jago laid his hands on both of theirs. "We
know," he said softly.

Later that night, Sokoji watched the two mortals and
the wizard sleep, a tangle of arms and legs, and gold
and silver hair. One of Jago's braids had come undone
and his hair and Crystal's had wound in and about each
other until they were so completely entwined only
power would be able to get them apart. She looked
from them to the ebony door, now plucked clean of
its rubies. The tower did need to be dealt with and the
last living wizard was the only one who could do it;

the giants had long since come to that conclusion.

That the last living wizard was also the only one
who could fully use the mysteries of Aryalan's tower,
the giants were well aware. Nor had they, like Doan,
dismissed the centaurs' fears out of hand. If they had
not felt there was some basis for those fears, they
would not have offered to watch; the wizard was at the
time an unknown and unknowns should be investi-
gated.

It hadn't taken much watching for Sokoji to decide
that the centaurs had no real knowledge of the child
they'd raised and the wizard they'd trained. If Crystal
broke, it would be duty that struck the blow, not li-

THE LAST WIZARD 245

cense. Duty the centaurs had taught her. In Sokojfs
opinion. Crystal's greatest fault was her self-doubt, her
fear that a very normal and healthy self-interest would
lead her down the paths of the ancient wizards.

Raulin muttered in his sleep and tugged at the cover-
Jago snorted and hung on. Neither woke.

Sokoji wondered if the brothers suspected how much
they had remolded the shattered bits of Crystal be-
tween them.

"Are you ready?"

Raulin and Jago clutched at their daggers. Crystal
wrapped her power about her, all three nodded.

Planting her feet firmly, Sokoji leaned across the
width of the trapdoor, slipped two fingers beneath the
ebony bar, and lifted.

Smoothly and quietly, the door rose.

Another black marble staircase, broad and wide
enough for the giant to descend, spiraled down into
Aryalan's tower. The walls were a familiar red. The
air drifting up into the gatehouse smelted strongly of
roses. The soft, golden wizard-light continued down
the stairs, although they saw no visible source.

"Okay," Raulin transferred his dagger to his left
hand and wiped the palm of his right on his pants.
Like Jago. he wore his jacket but left the fur overcoat
behind with the packs. Besides the dagger, he carried
a waterskin and the belt pouch that held the rubies.
He didn't know why he brought the rubies. He sup-
posed the answer he'd given Jago, If I'm going to die,
I might as well die rich, was as good a reason as any.
"Okay," he said again. "I go first, then Crystal, then
Jago. Keep one step apart, no more, and sing out if
anything seems the slightest bit suspicious."

He put his right foot down on the first step and
slowly shifted his weight onto it. Nothing. Then the
next step . . . then the next. . . . When his head dipped
below the level of the trapdoor, he suddenly felt as if
his ears had been stuffed with lamb's wool. Slowly, he
reached up and touched Crystal's leg. Rubbing his fin-

246 Tanya Huff

gers against the rough cloth of her pants made no
sound.

"Crystal?" He felt her hand wrap around his. As
far as he could tell, that was his only answer. Holding
on to her tightly, he backed up until his head was once
more in the gatehouse. The ambient noise seemed very
loud.

"Did you hear me call?" he asked.

Crystal shook her head and looked worried. "No."

Raulin chewed on one end of his mustache. "I think
it's just soundproofing. Crystal, keep hold of my hand,
and Jago, take her other one. Don't follow her'down
until she tugs twice. If we can't talk to each other
down there . . ." He shrugged. "Well, only one way
to find out."

He backed down the stairs, not taking his eyes off
Crystal's face. Her expression told him when she hit
the effect. "Can you hear me?" he asked.

She smiled in relief, her hair lifting out a little from
her ears. "Perfectly.*'

"We'd better test it." He kissed her fingers. The
kisses made no noise, but the words were clear.
"You're the most beautiful woman in the world."

"You haven't met my mother." She nicked a fin-
gertip against the end of his nose. "We'd better let
Jago know everything is all right,"

"I suppose so.*' Raulin sighed dramatically—and,
he was pleased to note, audibly.

Crystal grinned and drew his hand up to her lips.
She kissed his palm and closed the fingers over it.
"For later," she pledged.

He laid the hand against his heart and waggled his
brows in his best lecherous manner. Then he turned
and started carefully down the rest of the stairs.

Jago, upon entering the soundproofing, merely mur-
mured, "Interesting," and continued to place his feet
precisely where Raulin and Crystal had stepped. He
wished he had the comforting bulk of SokoJi at his
back, but the giant had remained in the gatehouse. No

THE LAST WIZARD 247

one had asked her why, and Jago suspected it was be-
cause they hadn't wanted to hear the reason.

Crystal kept both arms tight to her sides so they
wouldn't brush against the walls accidentally. Perhaps
Kraydak had been unique in mortaring his tower with
the trapped souls of the dead. Perhaps not. She didn't
want to find out.

Why not? If they're there, they'll call their Lord,
and he'll have to come. Avreen's voice slid like silk
through her mind.

Crystal gritted mental teeth but made no answer and
Avreen's mocking laughter accompanied her down the
next few steps.

Raulin squinted but couldn't see into the gloom that
hid the bottom of the stairs. Although their immediate
area remained brightly lit, the wizard-light staying with
them as they descended, he'd have preferred a little
less light where they were and a little more where they
were going. He weighted the danger of Crystal sending
'light ahead against the probable consequences of her
depleting her power and decided the gloom would lift
eventually on its own. But Chaos, he hated not know-
ing what he was walking into.

Sokoji watched Jago's golden head disappear around
the first turn in the spiral staircase. She could've gone
with them to the stair's end but didn't see the point as
she could go no farther whether she wished to or not.
Nor, she admitted to herself, did she want to take a
chance that what had waited for her at the bottom
waited there still. It was no danger to the others, but
she didn't think she could defeat it again.

She smiled as she heard a faint sound outside the
gatehouse door.

"Come in, Doan," she called.

The door swung open and the dwarf stood on the
threshold, his sword drawn and a crescent shaped slice
of black marble lying at his feet. "Damned step tried
to fold up on me,'* he explained when he saw the
direction of Sokoji's gaze. He kicked the piece of stone

248 TanyaHuff

out of his way and stepped into the room, his brows
rising at the limp blades scattered about on the floor.
"Had a bit of trouble?"

She shrugged. "Not really."

Doan shoved the door closed and slammed his sword
back into its sheath. "When did you know I was fol-
lowing you?" he demanded.

"I never thought you wouldn't. Taking another's
word for something is not your way."

He jerked his chin at the hole in the floor. "They
gone down?"

"Yes."

"All three of them?"

"Yes-

"And I should stay right where I am?"

1 'This is her chance to prove herself to herself. Don't
ruin it by upsetting the balance she had achieved."

"Pah!" He thrust his hands behind his belt and
snarled, "So what do we do now?"

Sokoji's expression saddened. "We wait."

Doan snorted. He hated waiting. "And we think,
no doubt," he added sarcastically.

"No. We try not to."

They reached the bottom of the stairs without inci-
dent. Crystal couldn't understand why. Surely Aryalan
would've trapped the only entrance to her tower. Rau-
lin paused on me last step and Crystal watched anx-
iously as he lowered one foot carefully to the floor.
And then the other. He walked three paces away and
then it was her turn. Nothing.

The room they stood in had been done in the same
combination of red and black.

Enough is enough, sighed a voice Crystal thought
was Sholah's and she had to agree with the sentiment.
The vibrant colors only added to the tension.

She heard Jago step off the stairs behind her, then
she heard Raulin gasp.

"What . . ." she began to ask, then fell silent.

Out of the shadows that hid the comers of the room,

THE LAST WIZARD 249

stepped a woman. Strands of gold wove through the
thick chestnut of her hair, flecks of gold brightened
the soft brown of her eyes, and a sprinkle of gold
danced across the cream of her cheeks. She stood al-
most as tall as the wizard and almost as slender. Her
smile, although touched with sadness, brought such
beauty to her face that beauty seemed a word com-
pletely inadequate to describe it.

"Mother?"

Tayer, the Queen of Ardhan, held out her hands.
"Have you no welcome for me. Crystal? I traveled far
to speak with you."

"Mother?" Crystal cursed the break in her voice
and reached out with power. This had to be of Aryal-
an's making. But it felt like the memory she held of
her mother. "You can't be here."

The sadness on Tayer's face deepened. "The dead
can be anywhere," she said softly.

"Dead?" Crystal's mouth went dry. "You can't be
dead. I'd know." She turned her probe into a spear
and drove it into the heart of whatever it was that stood
before her. Nothing blocked the blow. Not a woman
with a life of her own. Not a creature created by wiz-
ardry.

* 'Your power can't affect the dead.'' Tayer shook her
head and sighed. "I've never lied to you, child, why
should I start now?"

"But I'd know," Crystal repeated, suddenly unsure
if she would, "If you were dead, I'd know."

"Perhaps not. We've grown apart lately, you and I.
I blame myself for that."

"No, Mother. I ..." With a shock. Crystal real-
ized this—this something—had more than half con-
vinced her it—she—spoke the truth.

"You were a miracle. Crystal, and I was never sure
of how to treat you. I suppose if I'd treated you like
my daughter, and that alone, things would have been
better between us." Tayer gazed sadly into emerald
eyes. "But that's behind us now. I've come for another
reason. Your father needs you. I'm afraid for him."

250 Taaya Huff

*'Father needs . . ." The words wrapped around her
and made it difficult to think. Something was wrong.
Something was missing.

"Mother . . ." No! she told herself. This is not my
mother. "How did you die?'*

A blush stained Tayer's perfect cheek, the expres-
sion making her appear absurdly young. "I thought it
was only a cold; that it would go away ..."

"Oh, mother." Crystal took a step forward, turned
away, then turned back. Tayer had always argued with
the Royal Physicians, insisting she was perfectly
healthy long before they thought she should be up.
This was exactly the sort of thing Crystal had always
been afraid would happen one day. Her heart caught
in her throat. "Mother?"

Tayer nodded. "Yes, my darling. I'm sorry."

Crystal reached out a trembling hand. It passed
through Tayer's shoulder. Not even a wizard could
touch the dead.

"Crystal, you must go to your father. Now."

"I, I can't."

"I never asked you for anything when I was alive,
my child."

"But I can't!" Crystal wailed. "I can't."

"Is it because . . . because he isn't your father by
blood?"

"No!" Forgetting she couldn't touch. Crystal
reached out in shock. "I never ..."

"He always loved you as if you were his own."

"Mother, I ..."

"Please," Tayer pleaded, her eyes filling with tears.
"Your brothers are too young and hurt too badly them-
selves to help. Your father is so alone now. If you
should die in this place, I'm afraid he wouldn't survive
the loss of us both. Go to him, please, prove to him
you still love him. He took my death so hard."

Death. Lord Death. Where the dead were, so was
he.

And he wasn't.

Still speaking, the image of Tayer faded away.

THE LAST WIZARD 251

Built on a memory, Crystal realized as the mists
cleared from her mind. And as real as my memories
are. And hard on that thought came another. / would
know if mother had died. I would. We haven't grown
apart. And father knows I love him. She gained a new
respect for Aryalan's powers then, for, even defeated,
the trap left guilt behind to slow the intruder.

"No . . ."

Jago, his hands raised in supplication, backed to-
ward the stairs. His eyes were fogged and the expres-
sion on his face was that of a man torn between duty
and desire.

Gently, Crystal reached along the link they shared,
found the place where Aryalan's power had lodged,
and twisted Jago free. She caught just a glimpse of a
brown-haired woman, weeping, and she touched be-
trayal.

Jago cried out, a strangled sound of loss and pain,
and then his eyes began to focus. His hands fell to his
sides and clenched into fists, the knuckles white
against his tan.

"Not really there," he said huskily. "I should've
known." He scrubbed the back of his wrist across his
eyes. "A trap?"

"Yes."

"Emotional blackmail?" At Crystal's nod, his
mouth curved into something not quite a smile- "Nasty
lady, Aryalan, glad I didn't know her when she was
alive. Everybody's got something they ..." He paled.
"Oh, Chaos. Raulin."

Raulin, who had served as a soldier with Kraydak's
Horde.

Blood trickled down his chin from where he had
bitten through his lip. His cheeks were wet with tears.
Gray eyes stared at nothing visible, and, although his
shoulder blades were hard against a wall, Raulin's feet
kept moving, trying to back away.

"Raulin?" Crystal touched his arm. The muscles
felt like rock. Without a ready pathway into Raulin's
mind, she had to go slowly and carefully, balancing

252 TanyaHuff

her need to get him free against the damage she could
do if she hurried.

Gradually, she became aware of an unending parade
of the dead. Not the dead as Lord Death presented
them, ready to be received back into the arms of the
Mother, but bodies, mortally wounded, risen up from
their graves. Every one of them—men, women, and
children—named Raulin their slayer, demanded jus-
tice, and advanced on him to claim it. And Raulin was
almost at the point where their justice would be a small
price to pay.

Crystal knew the focus had to be here, somewhere.
Desperately, she searched among the bodies, trying
not to acknowledge them as real in any way lest Rau-
lin's guilt absorb her as well. She could feel Raulin's
will weaken with every second.

There!

A surge of power, green enveloped the dull red glow,
and the victims of the Horde were gone.

Under Crystal's hand, Raulin's muscles went sud-
denly slack. He swayed, Jago grabbed him, and they
both sagged to the floor. With Jago's arms tight around
him and his head against his brother's chest, Raulin
sobbed once, then lay shaking.

While Jago held him. Crystal stroked his back, her
power smoothing away the sharp edges of his pain.
She didn't care if her power attracted something. In
fact, she hoped it would. The last time she'd wanted
to hit back this badly, she'd leveled a mountain.

Finally, Raulin pushed himself up into a sitting po-
sition. He nodded at Jago, who looked relieved, and
met Crystal's eyes.

*'I never killed any children," he said.

Crystal leaned forward and kissed him, putting all
her trust and all her understanding into the action.
When their lips parted, she murmured, "I know,"
against his mouth. And he had to believe her where
he might not have believed words alone.

The three of them stood together. Crystal positioned
within the circle of Raulin's arms and both of them

.&?
t

THE LAST WIZARD 253

feeling better for the contact. Eyes were carefully
averted from the shadows in the corners.

"Well?" Jago asked. "Do we go on?"

"Why not? It can't get any worse," Raulin de-
clared, but his usual jauntiness sounded forced.

Crystal didn't mention that it very well could. There
didn't seem much point.

The door leading into the tower was locked.

Raulin eyed it speculatively, his color beginning to
return. "Two traps tied to the lock that I can see. Fig-
ure on at least two more I can't. Jago?"

"Two anyway," Jago agreed." "Well, I've got the
steadier hand, so . . ."He slipped a small leather case
out of his jacket pocket.

"You pick locks? Both of you?"

The brothers exchanged speaking glances.

"Growing up in the Empire," Jago began.

"Gives you an excuse to develop a wide variety of
skills," Crystal finished, shaking her head. "But I'd
rather neither of you risk this when there's a better
way." She reached up and pulled free a hair which
changed to a slender silver rod in her hand.

"You're going to do it?"

"No. Tayja is."

"The goddess?" Raulin's voice rose almost an oc-
tive. "Crystal, have you gone crazy?"

"I trust her, Raulin. She took control once before
and gave it back."

"I'd rather take my chances with the traps."

"I'd rather you didn't!"

They glared at each other.

Jago cleared his throat. "If you're sure . . .**

Crystal tossed her head. "I'm sure."

Raulin transferred his glare to Jago.

A surge of joy, that could have only come from the
goddess, accompanied Tayja as she moved up from
the depths of Crystal's mind.

Crystal watched as once again her hands took on a
life of their own, manipulating the silver probe with
amazing dexterity. This time, however, she wasted no

254 TanyaHuff

energy fighting the possession. Raulin and Jago peered
over her shoulders and counted off the traps.

"Four!" Raulin advanced on the door, hands raised,

"Wait." Crystal's mouth formed the word, but it
wasn't Crystal's voice. She shoved the probe into the
lock and twisted it violently to the left. A sharp crack
sounded deep inside the mechanism. "Five!" de-
clared the same voice, smugly. "That is all of them
and that one had to be last or it would set off all the
others."

Still under Tayja's control. Crystal's hands turned
gracefully in the air. You take a great chance allowing
me this much freedom, child. The long, pale fingers
flexed. I am a goddess, after all, and as proud and
arrogant as my sisters.

But I know you. Crystal reminded her. And I know
you are more honorable than some.

In her mind's eye. Crystal saw Tayja smile. Yes, she
admitted. More honorable than some.

As you come to know me, you better know a part of
yourself. But the words were so faint. Crystal couldn't
be sure if they came from memory or if Tayja had
actually said them as she retreated.

Then Crystal's hands were her own again. She stared
down at them and frowned, remembering the goddess'
joy as she rose to help. She'd felt it herself, back when
Dorses had seen her power as a tool rather than an
abomination to be feared. This was important; impor-
tant to her perception of herself and her perception of
the goddesses. She reached for the word that would
pull it all together.

"She got them all." Raulin pulled the door open a
finger's width. Nothing; no steel plates, no poisoned
darts, no cascade of acid, and nothing tried to get
through the crack. "I'm impressed."

Chaos! Crystal swore. Raulin's voice drove the word
she reached for from her mind.

"I think your goddess must've hung around with a
number of less than holy characters." Raulin readied

-s-

^

'<*

P

THE LAST WIZARD 255

to open the door wider. "She never learned how to
pick locks like that in a temple."

/ taught how to pick locks in a temple.

Crystal laughed and passed on Tayja's message, ig-
noring Sholah's indignant. You did nothing of the sort.

The door, when fully opened, revealed nothing more
threatening than a long red and black expanse of cor-
ridor fanning to a half circle into which were set three
more black lacquered doors.

"This wizard liked her doors small," Jago ob-
served. "Sokoji might have made it through this one,
but she'd never have got through those."

"Surely it's just the distance," Raulin protested.
"They can't be as narrow as they seem."

"Well, there's only one way to find out." Crystal
lifted a foot to step over the threshold, but Raulin
jerked her back.

"Not until we check the corridor for traps." Only
when he knew for certain that the first section was safe
did he allow her to advance, followed closely by Jago.

Behind them, unseen, dull red runes crawled for an
instant along the edges of the doorframe, then faded,
leaving no sign of their existence.

They found no traps in the corridor.

"Maybe this is the easy part," Raulin suggested as
they reached the wider area and paused to study the
three doors. Not only were they unlocked and un-
trapped, but they had no locks to trap.

"Maybe." Jago sounded dubious as he measured
his shoulders against their width. "We'll have to go
sideways to get through."

"And which one do we go through?** Crystal won-
dered. "They're identical."

Claws dragged against the marble floor. The pre-
vailing smell of roses changed abruptly to rot.

As one, they turned.

The creature advancing toward them supported its
weight on its knuckles as much as on its feet. Scimitar-
shaped talons scraped as it swung each arm forward.

"Where did it come from?" Jago gasped.

256 TanyaHuff

"Does it matter?"

Their daggers looked pitifully small next to me crea-
ture's natural armament.

Its eyes showed black from lid to lid, it had no nose
that they could see, and its mouth, a lipless gash across
the width of its face, bristled with a double row of
triangular teeth. No neck separated the head from the
powerful torso.

Crystal threw up her hands. An arching green bolt
struck the creature full in the barrel chest.

It hissed, staggered back a step, then continued for-
ward, moving surprisingly quickly on its squat legs. It
was on them before they had time to consider flight.

"Get in close!" Raulin yelled, dropping to avoid a
wild swing.

Jago hit the floor and rolled. Talons gouged the mar-
ble near him.

Raulin grabbed an arm on its next attack—the gray
skin felt like wet cork—and used the momentum to
slam himself and his dagger point into the creature's
body. He yanked the weapon free, raised it to strike
again, and realized his first blow had left no wound.

"Chaos!"

The smell of rot grew overpowering and Raulin
found himself staring between four rows of teeth.

Silver hair wrapped around his head and snatched
him back just as the massive jaw crashed shut not a
finger's width from the end of his nose. A blaze of
green, bright enough to leave spots dancing before his
eyes, slashed downward.

The creature screamed. A line opened along its jaw,
oily black liquid beading the length.

Crystal appeared to be wielding a dagger formed of
power.

"Got another one of those?" Raulin yelled, scram-
bling backward, slicing into a massive arm and again
doing no damage. "Plain steel ain't worth spit!"

An elbow drove into Jago's stomach and slammed
him up against a wall. He slid to the floor gasping for
breath.

THE LAST WIZARD 257

Throwing herself between Jago and the creature's
next blow. Crystal caught a talon on the shaft of green
she held. The talon smoked and snapped off. She
reached behind her with her free hand and dragged
Jago to his feet.

"Distract it!" she shouted. "Let me get close
enough to use this." A sword of power, she realized
belatedly, would've been more practical. She tossed
bands of green around the creature, slowing it by the
smallest of margins.

Raulin and Jago agreed on strategy with a glance
and raced to opposite walls of the corridor.

Crystal swung at the creature twice more.

"You're cutting it," Raulin told her, panting. "But
I don't think you're hurting it much." The effort of
keeping himself alive was beginning to tell. He'd taken
only glancing blows so far and suspected a solid hit
would break bones at the very least.

The creature ignored both its gaping wounds and the
fluid dripping from them.

Rocking with the force of a blow that clipped his
shoulder, Jago kicked with all his strength at the rear
of a bony knee.

Taking advantage of the resulting lurch. Crystal
opened a diagonal gash across its chest.

Free me, Zarsheiy demanded. Free me and it will
bum! The fire goddess beat at the barriers containing
her.

Suddenly, the creature concentrated its attack on
Crystal. Both huge, taloned hands reached for her,
curved around the shield she threw up, and began to
compress it.

The power dagger faded as Crystal reinforced the
shield. It lasted maybe three heartbeats longer.

She heard Jago scream her name as she went down.

"We're dead," she thought, and prepared to pull
power from the barriers.

Yes! Zarsheiy shrieked.

"Mustn't, mustn't, mustn't!" caroled a high pitched
voice.

258 TanyaHuff

The sound of a strangely muffled explosion echoed
off the walls of the corridor. Something wet dropped
onto her cheek.

As she could feel her power repairing shattered ribs,
she didn't try to move- Lying motionless hurt suffi-
ciently.

An iridescent face poked into her field of vision.
"Are you mashed?*' it asked brightly. "Pulped?
Crushed? Scrunched?"

"Yes," Crystal answered.

"Oh." It looked concerned and withdrew.

"Crystal?" Raulin *s face was smudged with black
and his mustache was caked with blood. "Can I do
anything?'"

She shook her head, carefully. "Just let me lie here
for a moment and tell me what happened."

"The creature blew up."

One eyebrow rose slowly. "Just like that?"

Raulin grinned. "Pretty much."

"Is Jago all right?"

"I'm not sure the solution wasn't worse than the
problem," Jago answered, off to one side, "but yeah,
I'm fine."

"Jago was closest to the center of the blast," Raulin
explained, smiling strangely "and the whole thing was
kind of ... messy."

"Oh, I see.*' She didn't, but Jago sounded all right.
"If you'll help, I think I can sit up now."

He slid one arm behind her shoulders and lifted
gently until her back rested against his chest.

The corridor—walls, ceiling, and floor—was awash
with black ichor and fist-sized bits of steaming flesh.
She noted with disgust that Jago—especially Jago—
Raulin and herself were covered with the stuff. Sur-
prisingly—fortunately—it smelled no worse than it had
when alive. The demon she'd freed from Aryalan's cave
sat cross-legged in midair, about the only place it could
sit and stay clean. Its resemblance to the larger crea-
ture was illuminating.

•,',

h
'-?

THE LAST WIZARD 259

"One of yours?" she asked, prodding at a mis-
shapen lump with the toe of one boot.

"Was," the demon agreed. "Warned you not to
come here. Told you it was dangerous." It looked
down at her, as close to a serious expression on its
face as its features were capable of. "No more debt
between us," it said. "All debts are paid."

Crystal nodded. "All debts are paid," she repeated.

The demon nodded as well. a motion that set it bob-
bing in the air. It spun about once, and vanished.

Jago pulled a sodden sleeve out from his arm and
summed up the situation with an emphatic, "Blech!"

"Could be worse," Raulin reminded him. "You
could be dead."

"I think I'd prefer it," Jago muttered, flipping a
braid back and wincing when the movement jarred his
shoulder. Using the wall for support, he stood and
stripped off jacket, shirt, and undershirt. Where his
torso wasn't black with ichor, purple bruises were al-
ready beginning to show.

Crystal pushed power across their link and left it to
sort out what needed healing. Then she turned to Rau-
lin and drew her finger along the shallow gash that ran
the length of his thigh. Behind the finger's path, only
a fine white scar remained. "Anything else," she
asked.

"Well, I've got a lump the size of an apple on the
back of my head, but I can live with that." He brushed
her hair back off her face. Not a single drop of ichor
clung to the silver strands. "Save your power for when
you need it."

"It's not as bad as that," Crystal protested. She
reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of
crumbled horse-cake, wishing she'd landed on her
other side when she'd fallen. "Sokoji planned for this;

I'11 eat and I'11 be fine."

"Fine," Raulin repeated. "When you're not putting
yourself at risk, you can heal whatever you want but
now you've got to be close to drawing on the barri-
ers."

260 TanyaHuff                                       &1

Crystal stared at him in astonishment. "How did      ^
you know?"

He pinched her chin- "I'm smarter than I look."

He'd have to be, Zarsheiy snarled.

"In the meantime," he continued, unaware of Zar-
sheiy's remark, "let's get out of this mess." He took
a step and had to windmill both arms to keep his bal-
ance.

"Careful," Jago pointed out mildly, "It's slip-
pery."

Raulin glared at his brother, then turned his atten-
tion to the doors. As Crystal had mentioned earlier,
they were identical; which one then to open first?
Ready to slam it shut at the first sign of danger, he
broached the door on the left.

Nothing.

He picked up Jago's discarded jacket and slapped it      \
over the threshold, both breaking the line of the door      ^
and spraying the room beyond with black.                 S

Nothing-                                            i'

He peered into the room and blinked at the red and      §
black checkerboard on walls and floor and ceiling,      "f
Both side walls and the one opposite held archways      ^
but from where he stood he couldn't tell if the open-      ^
ings led to rooms or corridors. Turning his head, he      |1
could see the backs of the other two doors. He exam"      i<
ined the floor carefully.                                  3|

Nothing.                                             ^

Moving next to the central door and then to the right      '•f-
he repeated the process with the same results,             f,

"Okay," he said at last. "It seems safe. Shall we      f
goon?"                                              }

"Which door?" Jago asked,                         t

Raulin shrugged. "Why not all of them? I don't like
the idea of one of us being in there while the other
two are still out here; those doors are too narrow if
someone gets into trouble. If we go through at the
same time, at least we'll be together. Are you going
to get dressed?"

Jago clawed congealing ichor out of his beard.

THE LAST WIZARD 261

"No," he growled, "I'm not." Even his undershirt
had been soaked through and he didn't want it touch-
ing his skin.

"Good thing your legs didn't get hit," Raulin mut-
tered shaking his head, "or you'd be wandering around
bare-assed."

Jago ignored him and turned to Crystal. "Your de-
cision," he said graciously.

Crystal hid a smile. "We'll go through together
like Raulin suggested." She waved Jago to the right
and Raulin to the left while she took the center.

"All right." She drew a deep breath. "On three,
open the door and step through. Freeze on the other
side until we're sure of what to do next. Ready?"

Jago gave her a thumbs up and Raulin blew her a
kiss.

"One, two, three!"

In unison, they pulled the doors open, turned side-
ways, and stepped through.

Crystal found herself alone in a room with an open
archway cutting through the checkerboard wall oppo-
site her.

She spun around.

No door.

"RAULIN! JAGO!"

No answer.

Fourteen

"CRYSTAL! JAGO!"

The answering silence seemed to mock him and
Raulin lost his temper.

"Chaos' balls and the Mother's tits!" he screamed      ^
and threw himself against the wall that should've held

a door but didn't. He kicked it, he pounded on it, and      ^
he slammed his shoulder into it all along its length.      ^
When he finally calmed down, he had a sore foot,      ^
aching hands, and a bruised shoulder but no better      ^
idea of what had become of his companions.              €

"This can't be happening," he muttered, and      ^
slumped against the offending wall- Drumming his fin-      a
gers on his thighs, he reviewed everything he'd done     ^
to check for traps. His memory held no clue to what     ^

had happened.                                    tJ
He'd seen a room with three archways and three     |

doors.                                                  J

He stood in a room with an archway in the left wall     i.
and no door.

The red and black checkerboard pattern was the same,      ^
and so was the size as near as he could tell. The re-
maining archway had neither moved nor changed.

He hoped Crystal and Jago were together, but he
very much doubted it.

"Okay," he said to the silence, "I have two op-     ;'
tions. I can stay where I am and maybe Crystal or Jago     ^
will find me. Or I can go looking for them myself."

He picked at the torn hide where the demon's talon     f
had ripped through his heavy pants, then, squaring his     \
shoulders, pushed himself off the wall. "Right. I go     7
262                            C

THE LAST WIZARD 263

looking." Every second that he delayed increased the
chance he would arrive too late to help either lover or
brother or both survive.

Of the sixteen red and black tiles in the floor, he'd
already effectively tested four by his mad race up and
down the wall. Hugging the walls, therefore, seemed
the least hazardous path to take as it gave him only
one more tile to risk. This proved out as he reached
the arch safely and sighed in relief at seeing the plain
gray stone beyond the opening. The red and black mo-
tif was apparently at an end.

Giving the single stone of the threshold a quick in-
spection, he stepped completely over it. The fine crack
surrounding it might have been the result of ancient
mortar crumbling away to dust, but he didn't think so.

The hall he now stood in had a high vaulted ceiling
and about half the width and twice the length of the
room he'd just left. A clear white light banished shad-
ows from even the farthest comers. An archway, iden-
tical to the one behind him, cut through the far wall.
At equal intervals along each side of a central aisle,
were statues of strange and impossible creatures.

"Well, maybe not so impossible," Raulin mut-
tered, staring up at the first, "considering what else is
wandering around down here." He scraped a bit of
caked ichor off his sleeve. The statue appeared to be
a demented combination of snake and bear. He peered
closer. Each scale had been intricately carved- He
lifted a hand to touch the stone; and stopped, suddenly
remembering nursery tales of carvings coming to life.

Hands shoved deep into his pockets, he headed to-
ward the exit, carefully keeping his eyes straight ahead-
Just on the edge of his vision, he thought he saw a
giant cat with too many heads twitch slightly. He
walked faster.

"... thirteen, fourteen," he counted as he reached
the arch, teeth clenched from the effort of not breaking
into a run, "and each one uglier than the last. Inter-
esting taste this Aryalan had."

Although the hall behind him sent icy chills up and

264 TanyaHuff

down his spine and he wanted nothing more than to
be out and gone, he bent and examined this second
threshold. The same fine crack ran around it. Satis-
fied, he straightened and lifted a leg to step over.
The first tile on the other side protruded slightly

higher than the others.

Raulin jerked his stride short and brought his foot
solidly down on the stone of the threshold. It settled
and he felt, rather than heard, the mechanism it eon-
trolled click into place-

The first tile now lay level with the rest of the floor
and Raulin advanced into one end of a long corridor
leading off to his right. Opposite him was a large,
wooden, brass-bound door. Just the sort of door you'd
expect to find in a wizard's tower, he thought, not like
those little lacquer things. Looking to his right he
counted twelve more doors, as far as he could tell, all

exact copies.

The door he faced led farther away from Jago and
Crystal, so Raulin ignored it. He turned and walked
to the first in the right-hand wall. His only plan was
to circle back until he passed the checkerboard cham-
ber. If the trap that got them into this followed any
sort of logical pattern when it split them apart, his
chamber would*ve been the farthest left. Using their
initial orientation, he had to go right.

The lock on the door was huge and ornate and had,
he saw, a keyhole large enough to look through.

So he looked.

Something looked back. Its eye was large and yel-
low and bore no resemblance to the eyes of either of
the two Raulin searched for—or for that matter, to any-
thing Raulin had ever heard of.

"Jago can't be in there, he hasn't had time to get
this far." But a small, illogical part of him kept in-
sisting he go back and check as he walked away; kept
supplying him with visions of his brother lying
wounded and helpless in the creature^s den-
Nothing looked back through a second, similar key-

THE LAST WIZARD 265

hole but the line of sight was too limited for Raulin to
see much of the room beyond.

"It's going in the right direction," he muttered,
sliding out a lock-pick, "Good enough.*'

A few moments of careful examination identified the
trap and a few moments more was all he needed to
spring it. When the dart flew out of the frame, his
hand was nowhere near its path. Satisfied, he pulled
open the door.

"Empty," he grunted. "Good." Through an arch-
way directly opposite, he could see another small
room- It appeared empty as well but he decided he'd
better check. The door that led back to his brother
might be just out of sight.

He stepped into the room and paused. Both side
walls had peculiar scratches running diagonally from
the near comer to the ceiling. Under normal circum-
stances, Raulin preferred to stay near the walls, but
those scratches didn't look like normal circumstances
so he started across the middle of the room.

About three-quarters to the other side, the entire
floor tipped suddenly down like an unbalanced teeter-
totter, dropping Raulin with it.

Raulin threw himself at the archway.

The threshold hit him in mid-chest. He clawed at
the stone, feet scrabbling against the wall below, and
managed to stop his fall.

Then he remembered to breathe.

Bracing his elbows, he levered himself up and
flopped the top half of his body over into me second
room.

The floor moved.

He jerked away, almost overbalanced, and spent the
next few seconds stabilizing again.

The side walls of this room bore scratches as well,
running diagonally from the far comer to the ceiling.

"Chaos. Chaos! CHAOS!" Raulin swore, blinking
sweat from his eyes. His dangling lower body had
never felt so exposed and vulnerable. He could feel

266 TanyaHuff

his balls drawing up into safer territory. He didn't
blame them.

He risked a glance back over his shoulder.

All he could see was a gray stone wall, slightly an-
gled away from him.

"Wonderful," he muttered, steeled himself, and
looked down.

The bottom appeared to be no more than two body
lengths away.                                ;

He snapped his head back and tried to calm the
pounding of his heart. It wasn't very far. Next to no
distance at all if he lowered himself on his arms before
he dropped. He swallowed and wet his lips. His chest
hurt where he'd slammed it into the stone. His choices
seemed to have narrowed to staying where he was or
taking a chance down below.

Slowly he began to inch back, taking his weight on
his forearms and then on his hands alone.

Kicking out a little from the wall, he let go.

One leg twisted under him when he landed. He fell
heavily, then lay for a moment while he writhed in
time to the waves of pain pulsating out from the in-
jured Joint. When the demon had slashed his leg dur-
ing the battle, the blow had wrenched his knee as well,
a minor ache in the wake of the other and until this
moment he'd forgotten about it. He had a feeling he
wouldn't forget about it again for awhile.

Finally, the pain began to ebb. He straightened his
arms, pushing his body into a sitting position, and
dragged himself around until the floor/wall supported
his back. Yanking his waterskin forward, he managed
to remove the stopper. Although the water had the
slightly brackish taste of melted snow, the action of
getting the drink helped to calm him.

"What I wouldn't give," he sighed, taking another
mouthful, "for even a mediocre brandy." He looked
up. " 'Course it could be worse. If I'd followed the
wall like I usually do, I'd have been near nothing I
could grab, would've fallen the whole distance, prob-
ably broken my leg, at the very least, and lain here

THE LAST WIZARD 267

until I rotted. Which raises the question," keeping
much of his weight on the wall at his back, he stood,
"how in Chaos do I get out?"

The area he found himself in was about twelve feet
long. about twelve feet wide, and about twice that
height. He bent, ignoring as well as he could the pro-
test from his bruised ribs, and prodded at the bottom
of the floor/wall. Although there wasn't much space,
he found he could grip it with his fingertips. To his
surprise, the massive block of stone rose easily when
he tugged at it. When it reached his shoulder height,
he ducked beneath the rising edge and shoved it hard
enough to level it out.

The wizard-light stayed with him, he was happy to
discover. He'd half anticipated exploring this lower
level in the dark. Looking up, he could see the pivot
mechanism and the ledge that supported the one end
of the floor; supported it until some Chaos-bom fool
walked too far.

The new room had the same dimensions as the one
above and had a single door in the long wall to Rau-
lin*s right.

"Right angles to the way I should be going. Still,"
Raulin sucked on his mustache, "I haven't much of a
choice."

He limped to the door exercising more than his usual
caution. The lock was untrapped and, even allowing
for the painful distraction from his knee, it gave him
no trouble. He stepped into the middle of a long cor-
ridor, a t-junction at each end with nothing to choose
between them except his need to find Jago and Crystal.
He turned to the right and began walking. At the cor-
ner he hesitated, his way no longer clear.

He shifted his weight off his bad leg and sighed, his
chin sinking down on his chest. Then he blinked. In
the wall in front of him was the faint but unmistakable
outline of a door. He raised his head. It vanished. He
lowered his head. It reappeared. With his chin tucked
in, he ran his dagger around the edge, found the catch,

268 TanyaHuff

and freed it. A rectangular section of the wall swung
silently outward.

"Now this has got to be an illusion." He closed his
eyes, disbelieved as hard as he could, and opened them
again. "Still there." Stepping forward, pushing a gem
encrusted goblet away with his foot, Raulin stared at
more wealth than he'd ever suspected existed. Gold
and silver coins, jewels, both loose and in ornate set-
tings, ropes of pearls, beautiful and gleaming things
he couldn't identify; all of it heaped and piled and
thrown about the room.

"We could live like kings on this." He bumped into
a chest and the lid snapped shut on the bolts of silk
and cloth of gold. Bemused, he sat down, his eyes
wide with trying to take in the glittering display.

He scooped up a handful of coin and poured it from
one palm to the other . . .

. . . from one palm to the other . . .

The clinking of the metal sounded almost like music. . .

. . . almost like music . . .

He'd never noticed before that gold had a texture.
That pearls felt like satin. That diamonds could never
be mistaken for anything but what they were. That
weapons could be beautiful.

He stroked a dagger, its hilt set with emeralds, and
thought how well the stones would match Crystal's
eyes.

Crystal.

The dagger fell from lax fingers.

Crystal. And Jago.

He had to find them. Suddenly the glitter was only
that, and unimportant. He stood and the pain in his
knee drove the last thoughts of the treasure from his
mind.

"Why in Chaos couldn't they gild a walking stick?"
he grumbled, limping out the door.

"RAULIN! CRYSTAL!"

Jago called until he was hoarse and then slumped
against the wall in despair. The tiles were warm against

THE LAST WIZARD 269

his bare back, perversely comforting as those tiles
should've been the door he'd entered through. He
glanced at the archway to his right, now the only way
of exiting the room, and wondered if he should use it.
Raulin, he knew, would not sit quietly waiting for res-
cue. Raulin had never been very good at waiting for
anything.

The logical thing to do was to stay right where he
was, assume Crystal would find both Raulin and him-
self, and then the three of them would go on together.

But there was nothing to say that Crystal would even
be able to look for them. That Raulin wasn't lying hurt
or confined or both. Nothing to say that he, Jago,
wasn't the only one able to move about and find the
other two.

Logic argued against it, but logic had no proof and
logic was no comfort and Jago found himself standing
at the archway almost before he'd consciously decided
to leave.

The cool, gray stone of the adjoining room soothed
his raw nerves and he bent to examine the threshold
in a less frantic frame of mind. Nothing, so he
straightened and looked up. Not quite touching it, he
ran his finger along the crack that split the lintel and
continued halfway down the supports on both sides.
He couldn't identify it as a trap, but that, he knew.
didn't mean a Chaos-inspired thing-
Preferring embarrassment to dismemberment, he
squatted and waddled through the opening, careful to
keep his head lower than the bottom edge of the crack.

The hall he entered stretched long and narrow to an
identical archway at the opposite end. Tapestries, bril-
liantly colored and glittering with gold, hung at equal
intervals along each wall.

They had to have been created by power, Jago
realized, standing before the first and gazing at it in
wonder. No mortal hand could have done so perfect a
job for the terror that twisted the man's features was
as extreme as the beauty it twisted.

270 TanyaHuff

He moved to the next and although it was a different
man, it was the same expression.

And then he realized that these men, so perfect of
face and form, all stared in terror across the hall, and
he turned.

And recognized the tapestry he now faced.

Red-gold hair, sapphire eyes, and a mocking smile;

Jago had grown up in Kray dak's Empire and once he'd
seen its lord. The blue eyes of the tapestry seemed to
glow and Jago felt his palms grow damp. Fighting over
half a lifetime of fear and oppression that threatened
to drop him to his knees, he raised his head and met
the wizard's eyes. And saw they were nothing but
bright blue thread.

He wiped his hands and swept his gaze along the
rest of the wall. The tiny woman with the ebony hair
and eyes, with the lips as red as rubies and the smile
as cold, had to be Aryalan. He didn't need to put
names to the rest.

He turned again to the wall he'd first examined and
saw the terror repeated seven times as the seven gods
stared out at their wizard-children who had killed
them.

Curious, Jago looked more closely at Kraydak's sire.
His shoulder-length hair and full beard had been
picked out in gold thread and pieces of amethyst had
been worked into the color of his eyes. Falling from
one limp hand was a scale and from the other a sword.
Kraydak had murdered justice.

"And he continued to destroy you, all the rest of
his days," Jago said softly to the god. "But for what
peace it gives, he too was destroyed in the end."

He looked at no more tapestries as he walked to the
archway that would take him out of the hall.

It took him some time to find the trap—his mind
kept drifting back to gods and wizards—and he'd al-
most decided no trap existed when he spotted the false
lintel. But the trigger eluded him still. Finally he gave
up, put the point of his dagger between the stone and
the overlapping masonry, and threw his weight against

THE LAST WIZARD 271

the hilt. The blade bowed but held and the lintel sprang
free, slamming down to shatter against the floor.

Jago waited until the dust had settled and the echoes
of the noise had died and then he stepped over the
rubble and looked left down a corridor that held twelve
huge, wooden, brass-bound doors.

"Twelve," he mused, pushing a chunk of stone back
toward the archway. "And fourteen tapestries. And, if
I'm not mistaken, sixteen tiles in each wall and in the
floor of the checkerboard room." He smiled grimly
and began searching for the next number in sequence.
At one of the not-quite-identical doors he stopped; ten
rivets held the lock to the wood. The door opened a
route to the left as Jago suspected it would. He had to
go left to find Crystal and Raulin.

Pulling out his lock-picks, he dropped to one knee
and set to work. When the eighth tumbler fell, the
door swung open.

The room was empty, and, as far as he could tell,
untrapped. In the center, a flight of stairs led down to
a lower level. There were no other exits.

Jago paused in the doorway and frowned. He'd ei-
ther solved the riddle, and the rest of his way was
clear, or he'd solved the riddle and was walking into a
major setup.

"How in Chaos do I out-think a wizard dead for
centuries?" he wondered, decided not to try and
headed for the stairs.

He reached the bottom in a small anteroom, with
padded leather benches against the side walls and a
dark red carpet on the floor. A smell he recognized
drifted through the open door that faced the stairs;

dust and leather and . . .

"Books?" Jago ran forward into the largest room
he'd seen inside the tower and rocked to a stunned
halt. The room was filled with books—books on
shelves, books on tables, books stacked haphazardly
on the floor.

"These can't be real," he murmured as his feet,
under no conscious control, carried him farther into

272 TanyaHuff

the canyons between the cases. His disbelief had no
effect on either the books or the room in general.

He bumped up against a table, picked a book at
random off a pile, and opened it. The lettering re-
mained as clear and sharp as on the day the Scholar
had put pen to paper. Jago drew his fingers lightly over
the page and began to read. A while later he put it
down and picked up another and, later still, he began
to wander—scanning titles, dipping occasionally into
the pages, marveling at the knowledge stored away.

In a comer, he found a rack of scrolls and carefully
unrolled the uppermost. The crackling parchment gave
the first indication that time did, indeed, operate on
the objects within the room but then, the scroll had
been written before the Age of Wizards, He read over
half of it before he realized he shouldn't be able to
read it at all. None of the words looked familiar, but
he knew what they meant.

Thinking back, Jago remembered other books in
other languages but never any book he hadn't under-
stood. Aryalan had obviously taken steps to ensure all
pans of her library were accessible.

". . . and the Lady of Grove." he read aloud, his
voice touched with wonder, "came from the heart of
her tree. Greatly daring were the bards who sang of
her beauty for she walked in beauty beyond words.
Tall she stood, and slender, with silver hair, and ivory
skin, and eyes the green of sunlight through summer
leaves." Tossing a braid back over his shoulder, he
smiled. "Sounds like the spitting image of Crystal.'*
Then he paused, one arm outstretched to grasp a black
leather tome. What had he just said? Parchment rus-
tled under his other hand and he looked down.

The scroll.

Silver hair, and ivory skin, and eyes the green of
sunlight through leaves.

Crystal.

And Raulin.

He wet lips suddenly dry.

T

^"h

THE LAST WIZARD 273

"Mother-creator, I*d forgotten about Crystal and
Raulin."

Close to panic, Jago backed away from the scroll
and began to search frantically for another door. There
had to be another way out. He found it at last, tucked
back behind a shelf of geographies, half buried behind
stacks of maps. It had no lock, only a brass hook, and
he was afraid, until he opened it, that it was just a
closet. He checked the way for traps, moving faster
than he knew was safe, and stepped through, pulling
the door shut behind him.

The air in the narrow stone tunnel seemed cleaner
somehow and he stood for a moment just breathing it
in.

"So," he said to the silence, "were the books a
trap of Aryalan *s making or my own?"

The silence made no answer.

"Did she cause me to forget? Or did I do it to my-
self?"

He pulled the stopper from his waterskin and took
a long drink. He didn't really think he wanted to know.

The tunnel ran, by his best guess, parallel to the
hall of tapestries, although a level lower. He started
down it, back toward his companions, leaving his
questions by the door. He hadn't gone far when the
walls began to close in and the ceiling lowered. For
the first time since he'd entered the tower, he remem-
bered that it was not only underground, but under-
water.

He touched the stone. Was it damp?

And then the wizard-light went out.

It was more than Jago, nerves already frayed, could
endure.

"Not alone," he begged. "Not in the dark."

He could feel the weight of rock all around him.

Closing his eyes helped only a little, just enough for
him to force his feet to move. With his shoulders
pushing against the walls and one hand running along
the ceiling to protect his head, he inched forward. It
was never so bad when Raulin was with him and he

274 TtMyaHuff

used that as a goad. If he couldn't make it through
this, Raulin might never be with him again.

He had no way to tell if time was passing until the
blackness against his lids turned gray. And then or-
ange. He opened his eyes and could see the end of the
tunnel.

With his whole mind on the open area ahead, he
stumbled forward and out.

He thought of traps one step too late, felt the stone
give under his foot, saw the steel plate begin to drop.
He had no idea what the steel was to close him in
with—fire, flood, or wild beast—nor did he care. He
dove forward, rolled, and the plate crashed down be-
hind him.

When his ears stopped ringing, he tried to stand and
found he hadn't rolled quite far enough. One braid had
been caught between the metal and the floor.

Laughter seemed the only appropriate response . . .
until he felt a touch against his boot sole and looked
up into the tiny black eyes of a male brindle.

Rauiin stood and stared at the narrow stone bridge,
his back pressed so hard against the wall he was sure
his shoulder blades would leave imprints. Mentally, he
retraced his route and decided he'd head back to the
last cross corridor and try the other direction; just as
soon as he could get his feet to move. He'd caught
only a glimpse of the depths the bridge spanned, but
that had been enough to send him staggering back to
safety and freeze him there.

"Just as soon as the memory fades a bit," he told
himself, the wall under his palms growing damp, "I'm
out of here."

And then he heard Jago scream on the other side.

He was across the bridge before he knew it and run-
ning as fast as his bad knee would allow toward the
sound.

"Chaos!" Skidding around a comer he only just
managed to avoid slamming into the hind end of a

THE LAST WIZARD 275

brindle. A brindle that appeared to have his brother
pinned. Well, he'd dealt with that once before.

He pulled his dagger and leaped at the animal's back,
aiming for a pale patch of fur at the top of its spine.

A pale patch of fur ...

Jago watched mesmerized as the brindle swayed
above him, both his legs held easily beneath massive
paws. He remembered claws and teeth tearing his flesh
from the bone. He remembered pain. He waited for it
to begin again.

The brindle bent its head to feed. Jago forced him-
self to look away.

"Jago! Chaos blast it, Jago, look at me!" Raulin
grabbed Jago's chin and yanked his head around. "It
isn't real! It's illusion!"

To Jago, caught up in the memory of old torment,
Raulin's voice seemed to come from very far away.
But Raulin's voice shouldn't have been there at all, so
he listened and dragged himself free of the words.
When he finally managed to focus, Raulin crouched
where the brindle had been.

Raulin saw reason return to his brother's eyes, and
started to breathe again. "If you believed in that thing
so strongly," he growled, "why didn't you run?"

Jago jerked his head to the limit of the trapped hair.

Raulin's gaze ran along the golden braid and back
and Jago tensed for the roar that was sure to come,
Raulin didn't disappoint him.

"I TOLD YOU TO GET YOUR HAIR CUT!"

With a half-smile, Jago pulled his dagger and handed
it over. "Be my guest."

"Serve you right if I shaved half your head," Raulin
muttered, bending to the task. "I told you this would
get you into trouble one day, but you wouldn't listen.
You can sit up now.'*

Jago sat and tried not to wince as the other braid
was cut to match. "What are you doing?" he asked
as Raulin coiled the length of hair and crammed it into
his belt pouch.

"What does it look like," Raulin snapped. "I can't

276 TanyaHuff

see how you managed with two. This thing weighs a
ton."

"I am feeling a little light-headed." The ragged
ends just touched his shoulders.

"That's because there's nothing between your ears."
And in a much softer tone he asked, "You okay?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah."

They held each other then, and everything was all right.

"Tested . . .** Raulin nodded. "It makes sense."

"It's the only thing that does. If Aryalan wanted to
keep people out of her tower, she wouldn't have both-
ered with false floors and falling walls and the rest of
this nonsense, she'd have thrown up a power barrier
or made the tower invisible."

"So what are we being tested for?"

"I don't know."

Raulin sighed. "Great. Lost in a dead wizard's
tower, being tested for reasons that probably died with
her, and we know what happens if we fail."

Jago stood and offered Raulin his hand. "Frankly,
I'm more worried about what happens if we pass.
Come on, let's find Crystal."

"RAULIN! JAGO!"

Crystal let the echoes of her voice fade and reached
out with power. Nothing. She could feel the link with
Jago, but she couldn't use it to track him. She couldn't
touch Raulin at all.

"I told them this was going to happen. I told them!"

Feeling better after that short burst of pettiness, she
started across the checkerboard room to the archway.
Raulin would not stay put, that went without question.
Jago might, but she rather doubted it as he had no way
of knowing if either of his companions still lived. She
had to find them before they found something they
couldn't handle. Or something found them.

Raulin could be dead, Avreen pointed out. Why

THE LAST WIZARD 277

don't you call the Mother's son and find out ? He did
say he 'd come if you called.

Raulin isn't dead. Crystal's voice was edged.

You could know for sure. What is it about Lord
Death that frightens you lately?

Crystal slammed a barrier down so hard she felt her
other shields tremble. She couldn't keep Avreen locked
away for long, but she'd enjoy the peace while it lasted.
Afraid of Lord Death, indeed. He was her oldest
friend. Why didn't she call him?

The center four tiles of the sixteen in the floor
dropped out from under her.

Her power caught her just before she hit the spikes.
She drifted up and out of the pit, furious at herself for
being distracted,

"What a stupid way for a wizard to die," she mut-
tered. "I keep this up and someone's going to have to
rescue me."

When she reached the arch she paused and pushed
a wave of power through before her.

Glyphs flared up both sides and the opening pulsed
red then black then red again. A binding, similar to
the one that had imprisoned the demon. With nothing
to hold, the binding faded and the way was clear.

She stepped into a long hall, the archway in the mid-
dle of one side. Fourteen windows stretched black and
featureless almost floor to ceiling across from her. The
ends of the hall held identical doors.

As she approached the nearest window, the glass
glowed green. When it cleared, she looked out into a
snow covered garden where three children were build-
ing a fort. One of the children turned to yell instruc-
tions and Crystal recognized her half-brother, the Heir
of Ardhan. The two smaller children had to be the
twins. She laughed as a disagreement turned into a
wrestling match, the twins, as usual, ganging up on
the older boy but never quite managing to pin him
down.

Maybe, she thought, leaning against the window
frame, when I'm finished here, I'll go . . .

278 TanyaHuff

Zarsheiy tried to force her barriers and Crystal sud-
denly realized what powered the window.

She threw herself back and the scene faded.

"Clever," she acknowledged. She hadn't felt it
draining her.

Idiot, snorted Zarsheiy.

Staying a careful distance from the rest of the win-
dows, Crystal made her way to the door in the left end
of the hall. Finding Raulin first seemed the only
choice; Jago, at least, she knew was alive.

On the other side of the door were twelve steps,
leading down.

Crystal slammed the door.

"Games!" she snarled. "Twelve, fourteen, sixteen,
this isn't a tower, it's a puzzle board."

Boredom had been the greatest enemy of the ancient
wizards. The world had fallen at their feet and left
them nothing to do.

"This isn't a tower," Crystal repeated. "And yet
the tower must be close or Aryalan wouldn't have been
able to watch her games played. Watch and influence
the outcome." She pushed her hair back off her face
and thought.

After a moment, she smiled.

With lines of power, she drew a door in the air,
opened it, and stepped through . . .

. . . into the center of a circular room, its seven
walls made up of seven mirrors.

She turned slowly, hoping to catch sight of Raulin
or Jago but saw only Crystal. She touched one mirror
with power and let it reflect onto all the others. Noth-
ing. If Aryalan had watched from this place perhaps
it was turned only to her, or there was a trick to acti-
vating it that Crystal hadn't yet discovered.

Or Aryalan might have anticipated Crystal's move
and the room was itself a part of the game.

Idiot.

Trust your instincts.

Reason must be the key.

She should/allow her heart.

THE LAST WIZARD 279

Maybe, maybe not.

"Be quiet!" Crystal snapped. "All of you." she
buried her face in her hands, trying to think, and when
that didn't help, began to spin slowly on the ball of
one foot.

"The ancient wizards were not only bored," she
said, seeing herself surrounded by herself, "but vain."

The reflections wavered, and changed.

Eegri laughed out at her, tossing brown curls.

Tayja smiled and spread a mahogany hand against
the glass.

Zarsheiy's eyes burned with fire contained but far
from under control.

Sholah opened wide her arms, offering refuge.

Nashawryn, stars caught in midnight hair, only
stared, her silver eyes impossible to read.

One mirror showed a graceful line of shoulder and
back, as Geta, still grieving for her brother, continued
to hide her face.

And Avreen. The goddess of love pushed auburn
hair away from amber eyes.

"Have I no reflection left at all?" Crystal whis-
pered.

Avreen shook her head, and sighed. All the reflec-
tions are you . . .

. . . you . . .

. . . you . . .

. . . you . . .

. . . you . . .

. . . you . . .

Red light played over the lowest level of the tower
as the most powerful of its guardians stirred. While
not exactly aware, it was capable of independent
thought and actions within the boundaries Aryalan had
set for it centuries before. Until she created her dragon,
the ancient wizard had considered it her greatest
achievement and it had given her many hours of
amusement.

280 Tanya Buff

The Wizards' Doom had not affected it, nor had the
centuries it had lain dormant.

It had watched the intruders and now it knew them;

knew their strengths and knew their weaknesses; fol-
lowed the lines that joined them and knew how to tie
them in place.

It judged them worthy of its attention.

It gathered together the power still at its disposal
and prepared to use the knowledge it had gleaned; pre-
pared to place all three pieces in the final configura-
tion.

Had Aryalan been there to watch, she would have
been very amused indeed-

-WIZARD-

The mirrors faded and Crystal found herself sus-
pended in blackness. Red lines, sullenly pulsating,
held her securely and where they touched they brought
torment. Hurriedly, she threw shields up against the
pain and found it left her no power to get free.

-YOU HAVE A MOVE STILL REMAINING IN
THH GAME-

Fury banished fear.

She bit off each word and spat it out. "I'm not play-
ing."

Lines of red flashed out from those that bound her,
wrapped about and illuminated two bodies; Raulin to
her left, Jago to her right. They had no protection from
the pain and screamed wordlessly and continuously,
thrashing and fighting as the light spun out between
them and completed the triangle.

The voice sounded clearly over the brothers' cries.

-TO FREE YOURSELF, WIZARD, BREAK THE
BALANCE—

Raulin shrieked her name and she spun toward him.
The motion caused the lines about Jago to flicker and
brighten. He threw back his head and his screams grew
shrill. When she turned to Jago, Raulin writhed in new
agony.

&•
^

THE LAST WIZARD 281

—ONE MUST BE SACRIFICED, WIZARD, IT IS
THE ONLY WAY—

To free herself.

"No." Her chin went up. "I am not like the ancient
wizards," she said. "I don't play games."

She dropped all barriers and threw wide her power.
This time, she didn't fight. The word she'd searched
for, the word that pulled it all together, was accep-
tance.

All the reflections are you. . . .

The pain hit first, from the lines of red, then Zar-
sheiy bumed and the pain was lost in fire. She felt
Sholah and Tayja give themselves joyously to the new
matrix and she felt Eegri dance through the flame. She
acknowledged Avreen, acknowledged the face the
goddess wore and added to the reforging the sorrow
of love admitted too late. Darkness surged forth with
the eldest goddess. But there came no answer from the
light.

, Only the threat of Kraydak had convinced Geta to
help in Crystal's creation. Kraydak, like Getan his fa-
ther, had died. Geta mourned her twin and would not
be moved.

Then Jago screamed and chance alone made the
words the last that Getan had cried.

"Mother, it hurts!"

And the goddess looked to the image of her brother
writhing in pain.

No!

Freedom rose to stand against the darkness.

Crystal looked to Raulin, now hanging limp in his
bonds and remembered the strength in his arms and the
pleasure they had shared, the warmth that had banished
winter's nights. She looked to Jago, who still twisted
and fought, and gently touched the place where his life
touched hers, savoring the knowledge that, for a time,
she had not been alone. Gathering up the memories,
she placed them where she hoped they would survive
what was to come, for friendship was too rare a thing
to lose. All this in less than a heartbeat . . .

282 Tanya Huff

. . . then Crystal let go of self-
The red lines disappeared, for the wizard they had
held was no more.

"Mortal! Mortal, wake, or you will go to my Mother
by my hand!"

"Bet you wish you could shake him.'*

Lord Death whirled and glared at the dwarf. "Do
not mock me. Elder, lest I misuse the power I wield.
You can be killed and I am Death."

Doan spread his hands, his face unwontedly serious.
"I do not mock you. Mother's son. I spoke without
thinking. Forgive me." He dropped his eyes to the two
men crumpled on the ground. "The mortals live?"

"They live. But I cannot get them to wake."

"Perhaps I can help." Sokoji pushed passed the
dwarf, her arms full of fur. She wrapped both bodies
in the overcoats, then bent over Raulin. After a mo-
ment, she shook her head. "If he wakes at all," she
said sadly, "it will not be for some tune." She moved
to Jago and her expression grew more helpful. "This
one has something in him that fights what was done and
is almost healed." Lifting Jago's head onto her lap, she
held out her hand to Doan. "Give me your flask."

"There's not much left," Doan warned her as he
passed it over.

"It won't take much." Sokoji waved the open flask
under Jago's nose.

Jago coughed and opened his eyes. "What. . . what
happened?"

Doan snorted. "We hoped you'd tell us."

With the giant's arm a firm support across his back,
Jago sat up and looked around. The tower, the island,
and the lake were gone. In their place, a perfectly cir-
cular bowl of bare rock curved up around him, Sokoji,
the dwarf. Lord Death, and the still body of his brother.

"Raulin!" He twisted out of Sokoji's grasp. "Rau-
lin?"

"He lives," Sokoji told him, "but he needs help I
cannot give."

THE LAST WIZARD 283

She paused, and in the silence, Doan prodded:

"Perhaps Crystal ..."

Jago shook his head, spattering the rock with tears.
"Crystal is ... she ..."

"She what, mortal?"

Jago met Lord Death's eyes. "I don't know," he
whispered. He laid his hand against Raulin's cheek,
comforted by the feather touch of breath, and tried to
describe what he'd seen in the instant between pain
and oblivion.

"Her face was perfectly still and her arms were
open. It sounds crazy, you couldn't see through her or
anything, but she looked clear," his mouth twisted,
"like crystal. She'd been wearing clothes she'd bor-
rowed from us—from Raulin and me—they were gone.
Silver light began to pour out from her hair, then from
her eyes, then from her skin, then there was only light
so brilliant it burned. That's all."

He couldn't describe what he'd felt when Crystal had
dissolved into light, the searing glory that had burned
along the life-link and threatened for an instant to con-
sume him too. He didn't have the words for it. He
doubted the words existed.

He wanted to turn away from the expression of Lord
Death's face. He didn't.

"She called me," Lord Death told him. "I heard her."

"I'm sorry." And Jago cried for more than just
Crystal and his brother.

Sokoji stood and scanned the sky. "From out of
darkness came the Mother, but in what fire was she
forged?" She glanced down at Doan who stared at her
in puzzlement. "It is a question my sisters and I often
think on."

"Yeah. so?"

The giant smiled. "And now it has been answered.
There will be new worlds born from this day."

"Let me get this straight," Doan shoved his hands
behind his belt, "you think that Crystal just became a
new ..." His mouth opened and closed unable to get
around the concept.

284 TanyaHuff

"A new creator?" Sokoji nodded. "Yes."

"No." Lord Death's hands curled into fists and he
staggered forward, fell to his knees and howled. "NO!
Crystal, come back! I love you!"

The words hung in the air for a long moment and
then they faded.

A silver spark danced along the path of a wandering
breeze. And then another. And then another. And then
the breeze danced in silver hair and Crystal opened
her arms to Lord Death.

"I can touch you now." Her words were a promise.

Lord Death laid a trembling hand in hers and let her
pull him to his feet.

"I heard you call," he told her. "I heard you say
you loved me."

Back before the remaking, when love had been sep-
arate, and love had worn his face. . . . "Yes," she
said, drawing him close, "I called."

"I came."

Her lips parted.

Then his arms were around her and the glory en-
folded them both. The silver light grew brighter, and
brighter still, and then, abruptly, it was gone.

Except for one small spark that settled gently on the
very tip of Raulin's nose and flared, wrapping his body
for an instant in light.

When it faded, RauUn blinked and yawned. "S'it
over?"

"Yeah." Jago managed to get the word out past the
lump in his throat.

"Then why are you crying? Didn't things work out?*'

Jago glanced from Sokoji to Doan, The giant only
smiled, th& dwarf rocked back on his heels and
shrugged, so Jago came to his own decision.

"It's okay," he said, and wiped his eyes. "Every-
thing worked out."

End

Raulin tossed the purse on the table and grinned at
the way the clerk's jaw dropped.

"Go on, man," he prodded, "open it; this is the
day the Council admits new members."

The clerk glanced nervously over his shoulder at the
six councillors and with trembling fingers untied the purse
strings. Twice a year, in the spring and in the fall, the
Council opened its doors, allowing new members to
buy their way in. This was the first time anyone had
tried for the seats cost more than most citizens of the
crumbling Empire saw in a lifetime and the price had
to be paid in gold. Twice a year the four men and two
women who ruled the city ranged themselves at one
end of the council chamber and waited while curious
citizenry ranged themselves at. the other. And also
waited.

When Kraydak had fallen, many of the weak and
corrupt he had put in power hung on.

". . . 28, 29, 30." The clerk looked back again,
and waved one hand over the stack of freshly minted
coins. "It's, it's all there, milords." He obviously had
no idea of what to do next.

One of the councillors stepped forward, glared first
at the coins, and then at Raulin.

"Where did you get this?" she demanded.

Raulin winked at her. "It used to be my brother's."
In fact, it used to be Jago's braid, but he had no inten-
tion of telling her that.

**Itmustbe tested."

"Go ahead." Nor did he intend to tell her of how,
285

286 TanyaHuff

on the long trip back, Doan had melted down the soft,
pure strands of gold Raulin had found in his pouch
,and doubled their volume by reforging them into a
metal less pure but more acceptable.

The clerk was sent to find a goldsmith and the coun-
cillor withdrew back to her fellows where they mut-
tered and fretted and planned. A rustling noise came
from the crowd as something very like hope drifted
through their ranks.

Although Jago had gone that morning to the Schol-
ar's Hall, Raulin could feel his brother at his back,
and knowledge he'd learned was as formidable a
weapon as wealth or steel. He touched the Jewel he
wore on a silver chain about his neck—one of the two
emeralds inexplicably mixed in with the rubies; Jago
wore the other—and thought of the patch of light in
the center of his palm. The kiss Crystal had given him,
for later. If Jago had been changed by their journey—
and there was no denying the younger man had picked
up a number of interesting abilities, not the least of
which was self-healing—Raulin had only had some-
thing he'd always believed reinforced.

Anything is possible.

He smiled at the row of councillors. One by one,
they tried to stare him down. One by one, they dropped
their gazes.

That's right, he said silently, squirm. 'Cause there's
going to be some changes made.

Other places might look gray and depressing in early
spring but the Sacred Grove, Tayer felt, bore a promise
for the renewal that lay ahead. Delicate new growth
already touched the ground with green and, even with
their branches bare, the ancient silver birches ringed
the Grove in beauty.

"Majesty."

Tayer started and stared at the squat, broad-shouldered
man who had so suddenly appeared. Her brow furrowed.
"Do I know you?'"

THE LAST WIZARD 287

Doan bowed. "We met once, many, many years
ago.*'

"Here?"

"No, in the wood. But you had just come from th&
Grove." His eyes moved for an instant to the space in
the circle where a tree no longer stood.

Tayer smiled sadly. "I don't remember much of
those days." She remembered light and love and not
much more.

"Uh, yes." Doan's gaze dropped to his feet, for he
remembered those days very well; back when he'd
guarded the Grove and the hope it had contained.
"Best that you don't."

"Have you come then to renew our old acquain-
tance?" Tayer asked, brows raised-

"No." He took a deep breath. Sokoji had offered to
bring the news to Tayer but Doan, having been in on
the beginning, felt he should see it through to the end.
"I've come about your daughter."

"Tell me." The Queen of Ardhan squared her
shoulders and waited for the blow. "Has she been
killed?"

"No!" In his rush to wipe the pain from Tayer's
face, Doan snapped out the word so hard she winced.
"No," he repeated, more gently, "she isn't dead."
He saw again the glory that Crystal had become
wrapped in the arms of Lord Death and added, "Ex-
actly."

"Exactly?" Tayer repeated, looking both relieved
and confused.

Doan snorted. "It's a long story."

"Well . . ." Tayer crossed the Grove and sat down
on a protruding root. Both her council and her chil-
dren would have recognized her tone of voice. "Why
don't you start at the beginning."
So he did.
When he finished, Tayer sat quietly for a long time.

"Is she happy?" she asked at last.

"Yes. I believe so."

Tayer felt the tug of a baby's lips upon her breast.

288 TanyaHuff

Smelled the soft scent of sunlight on silver hair as a
child snuggled on her lap in the garden. Saw a girl
stand to face an ancient evil, green eyes blazing defi-
ance. Heard the voice of a young woman who shared
her heart.

Her lower lip trembled. "I shall miss her."
Doan nodded and reached out to wipe a tear away.
"And I," he said softly. "And I."