"Uriano let go my hand and bounded down the stairs two at a time, with my sire after him. The speed of my father's motion extinguished the candle, but there was still enough moonlight to see one's way.

  "Uriano dashed through the dining room into the kitchen and out the back door. Vrix stood there, waiting for someone to come out that door. When Uriano appeared, Vrix gave him a blast of fiery breath that washed over him like a jet of water from a fountain in the Grand Duke's gardens, for it had been straitly commanded to burn the first person coming out. Uriano gave one shriek as his hair and clothing blazed up, and then there was nought left of him but a black, cindery mass on the garden path. Uriano's death released Vrix from servitude on this plane, and it vanished. So now I hope you appreciate the limitations of employing demons to do your work for you."

  "I realize the difficulty," said Jorian. "But what interests me most is the question of what would have happened, had your lover not knocked over the ladder?"

  "Oft have I asked myself that question," said Goania. "Things would in time have gone ill, I am certain." She sighed, with a faraway look. "But I should have had one interesting night to remember."

  -

  Jorian said: "But still, can you think of a better way to get my darling out of her luxurious lockup?"

  "Not at the moment."

  "Could you send your second sight to Xylar, to see what they are doing there?"

  "I could, if someone will clean this table and fetch me a clean glass."

  Goania repeated her previous trance, the one she had employed after Jorian and Karadur had just emerged from jail. When she spoke, she muttered:

  "I cannot see inside the palace... there seems to be a barrier... It is like a wall of glass, shutting me out... I see the palace dimly and wavering, as things appear to ripple when seen above a paved road on a hot day... Nay, I cannot get in."

  After a while she opened her eyes and said: "The Xylarians have thrown a magical barrier around their palace, like a dome, which keeps out my occult vision. From what I know of such things, I am sure it would also keep out any demon who tried to enter in dematerialized form."

  "I suppose," said Jorian, "that after Ruakh's visit they hired a spooker to set up this barrier against further intrusions. What shall I do now?"

  "I would start looking for another wife, if you must have one," said Goania.

  "Aye," Karadur chimed in. "Relinquish this hopeless quest, my son, ere you bring destruction not only on yourself but also on others, like me."

  "You may go your way any time," snapped Jorian. "You are not my bondservant."

  "Oh, my dear Jorian! I have become dependent upon you. I am too old and creaky to get about much by myself. Cast me not off like an old shoe! You take the place of the son I never had."

  "Very well then, you must needs put up with my vagaries. The single life may suit you and Goania, but it pleases me not."

  "If you must have a wife, then, follow Goania's rede. Wed—let me see—why not take Lady Margalit here?"

  "Come!" said Margalit sharply. "I am not a prize to be raffled off. Master Jorian may be a fine fellow in his way—"

  "But obstinate as a mule when he gets an idea in his mazard," Karadur put in.

  "—but there is nought like that betwixt us."

  "Do you expect to wed someday?" Goania asked.

  "Certes. That's why I took the post of lady-in waiting. My family, though of good lineage, is poor; so by saving up the allowance the Regency pays me, I hoped to gather enough dowry to lure some reasonably whole, sane, and solvent husband. But my peculum lies still in Estrildis's dungeon apartment."

  "Well, then—" said Karadur.

  "I must know and like the fellow far better than I do Jorian ere I'd consider such a thing. Besides, he is already bespoken."

  "Good for you!" said Jorian. "But as the doctor says, I can be very stubborn. You two spookers are ever talking of the wisdom your years have brought you. So let's have evidence, in the form of a plausible scheme for recovering my wife!"

  All four sat in silence. Rhuys brought their dinners. As they were digging in, Karadur said:

  "I once told you of a Mulvanian colleague, called Greatsoul Shenderu or Shenderu the Wise. He dwells on Mount Aravia in the Lograms, and such is his name for wisdom that folk come hundreds of leagues to consult him on their affairs. Belike you could seek him out, come spring."

  "A splendid suggestion!" cried Jorian, his normal enthusiasm returning. "Why thought you not of that sooner? I'll set out forthwith!"

  "Oh, Jorian!" said Goania. "Rush not into needless peril, or your Estrildis may have no husband to rejoin. It's still the month of the Eagle, and the snows lie heavy on the mountains."

  "Methinks we've seen the last of the snow down here," said Jorian.

  "Down here is not up there. There you'll find drifts as deep as you are tall, with crevasses and precipices."

  "I know; we flew over the Lograms coming from Iraz. But I'll chance that. Doctor Karadur, how does this Shenderu live?"

  "People who come with questions are expected to recompense him with the things he requires: food, firewood, and betimes a garment or some knicknack such as a cooking pot. Since he is a vegetarian, his alimentary requirements are bulky."

  "I'll buy a mule and load it with firewood, bread, and turnips," said Jorian. "I'll persuade Gwiderius to gain me access to the Grand Ducal library, where they'll have maps of the region. I shall be off ere the month be out!"

  -

  As often happens, it took Jorian much longer to get his expedition ready to go than he had thought. He had to buy a horse and a pack mule with the remains of King Ishbahar's privy purse. He needed a load of grain for the animals, since there would be little natural forage for them at that season.

  Then a minor epidemic swept Othomae City with coughs, sneezes, and fevers. All the people in the Silver Dragon, including Jorian, were out of effective action for a sennight.

  As the month of the Boar wore on, Lady Margalit became impatient with idleness. One night over dinner, Jorian was counting out his remaining coin.

  "At this rate," he said, "I shall be a pauper by summer. It's only right that I should pay Margalit's room and board, since I brought her hither. But with the pittance Lodegar pays me, I cannot save, scrimp though I try."

  Margalit said: "Jorian, it is good of you to pay my board; but I should earn something on my own. Could I not find a paying place in Othomae until arrangements are made for my return?"

  Jorian raised his eyebrows. "Lady Margalit! One of your kind could hardly be a housemaid or a washerwoman."

  "What mean you, my kind? I've known poverty, and I'm not too proud to do what must be done. Besides, much of what I did for Estrildis would elsewhere be housemaid's work."

  "I'll ask Goania," said Jorian.

  When Lodegar fell sick of the same phthisic, Jorian persuaded him to hire Margalit to take his place in the mill, bagging the flour as it came from the millstones. A few days later, as they returned to the Silver Dragon after work, still patting flour from each other's garments, Goania greeted them.

  "I have a post for you, Lady Margalit," she said. "My friend Aeda, wife of Councilor Arvirag, needs a maid-of-all-work, hers having left. What say you?"

  "I will certainly try it," said Margalit.

  "Good girl!" said Jorian. "I admire anyone willing to turn his hand to what needs doing. I hope we can find you a position which shall make better use of that excellent brain of yours. Meanwhile, let's celebrate with a bottle of Rhuys's best!"

  They were halfway through the bottle, and Rhuys had served their dinners, when a man entered the common room and strode up to Jorian. The man, wearing a uniform without a sword, said: "You are Jorian of Ardamai, alias Nikko of Kortoli?"

  "Aye," said Jorian. "What about it?"

  "Here is a summons to appear before the examining magistrate one hour after sunrise on the morrow."

  "Eh? What?" said Jorian. "What have I done?"

  "You are the defendant in an action brought by Doctor Abacarus of the Academy, for recovery of a debt."

  "That bastard!" muttered Jorian.

  "Since you are a foreigner, you must either get a local citizen and property owner to vouch for you, or you must come with me to the jail to assure your appearance tomorrow."

  "I will vouch for him," said Goania.

  "So? Then kindly sign here, Mistress Goania."

  The process server departed, leaving the summons on the table before Jorian. Goania said: "I trust you know, Jorian, that if you lose your case, it's debtor's prison."

  "Do they still have that here? When I was King of Xylar, I got them to abolish it, on the ground that a man in jail cannot earn the wherewithal to satisfy his debt."

  "It is a pity that you are not the Grand Duke here. But you are not, so govern your acts accordingly."

  -

  The examining magistrate was the same Judge Flollo who had incarcerated Jorian and Karadur. He said: "Master Jorian, methinks that, having gotten out of trouble once, you would have sense enough to stay out. But let me hear your stories. You first, Doctor Abacarus."

  Abacarus gave a long, voluble speech affirming his claim that Jorian still owed him 750 nobles. Jorian explained why he did not consider himself so obligated.

  "Therefore," he said, "I ask that this suit be dismissed with prejudice. In fact, I ought to sue the learned doctor for my first seven hundred and fifty, since his effort was a complete failure."

  "Nonsense!" said Abacarus. "I did not guarantee success, and I warned this upstart..."

  Both the doctor and Jorian began shouting, until the magistrate banged his gavel and yelled: "Silence, you two, on pain of imprisonment! This is a hard case, the more so since neither of you has a written contract. One would think that men of your age would have sense enough to put such things in writing, with competent legal advice.

  "Now, our calendar is crowded. The earliest trial date I can set is— let me see..." He ruffled through documents. " 'Twill be the fourteenth of the Dragon."

  "By Heryx's brazen balls, that's half a year away!" exclaimed Jorian.

  Judge Flollo shrugged. "It is the best we can do. Time, as the philosophers at the Academy are wont to say, is incompressible. Of course, if you two should settle out of court, no trial would be needed. Master Jorian, Mistress Goania's avouchment will suffice to leave you at liberty pending the trial. But you understand that, if you fail to appear and we cannot catch you, the penalty will fall upon her."

  Jorian and Abacarus exchanged glares. The sorcerer said: "My resources are not yet exhausted, Master Jorian."

  "Nor mine," said Jorian.

  -

  Two nights later, Jorian had snuffed the candle in the room he shared with Karadur and stretched himself out beneath the blankets, when he became aware of something else in the room. Out of the darkness a luminous form was taking shape. At first it was so faint that he thought it a mere photism—one of the lights one sees with one's eyes closed. It wavered and shimmered with a faint bluish radiance, resembling a cowled figure. Nothing but blackness could be seen beneath the cowl where its face should be. Then came a moaning voice: "Pay your debts! Pay your debts!"

  "Karadur!" said Jorian. "Wake up! Do you see what I see?"

  "Unh?" The aged Mulvanian sat up and yawned. "Oh, ah, aye, I see it. This is termed a dunning specter, sent by Abacarus to plague us. 'Tis patent that he is not fain to wait till the month of the Dragon for the decision on his case."

  "Pay your debts! Pay your debts!" wailed the figure.

  "What should I do about it?" asked Jorian.

  "There is naught much that you can do, short of paying Abacarus his claim."

  "That I will not do. Even if I wished, I do not have seven hundred and fifty nobles left. What about these specters? What can they do?"

  "These entities inhabit the Second Plane. They are easy to invoke and harmless, since they do not achieve substantial materialization on this plane. Whilst not intelligent, they are obedient to the sorcerer's commands, like a well-trained dog. The thing is immaterial, so your sword would pass through it without resistance. A project at the House of Learning in Iraz was to ascertain how, without forming solid vocal organs, these specters could natheless agitate the air of this plane to form articulate sounds—"

  "Pay your debts! Pay your debts!"

  "Well," said Jorian, " 'tis damned inconvenient. The thing I most look forward to in the world is my first night after Estrildis and I are again united. But imagine how it would be if, just as she and I prepared to enjoy our mutual passion, this thing appeared with its croak!"

  "At least," said Karadur, "this entity will assist you to adhere to the continence on which you have virtuously resolved."

  "Oh, bugger my continence! Will it go on like this all night?"

  "Pay you debts! Pay your debts!" groaned the specter.

  "Nay," said Karadur. "After a few hours it will become fatigued and fade away—until the next night."

  "Pay your debts! Pay your debts!"

  "You are a great bore, spook!" growled Jorian. "Now shut your gob and go away!"

  He pulled the covers over his head; but for the next hour or two, moans and wails of "pay your debts!" kept him awake.

  -

  The next day, since Lodegar's mill was idle for want of grain, Jorian went to Goania. He said: "I am no lighthearted manslayer, but I have punctured a few knaves in my time. If I could get within a sword's length of Abacams—" He gripped his hilt, secured to the scabbard by peace wires.

  "Do not even think of it, boy!" snapped Goania.

  Jorian smiled. "I like to think of you as my favorite aunt. And why should I not let some of the stuffing out of this great child's doll?"

  "Because the Grand Duke's police keep a sharp eye on you, even if you are not aware thereof. You would only end up on the headsman's block, not to mention the trouble you would cause your friends."

  "Well then, have you any sort of counter-sorcery against him?"

  She pondered. "Aye, I can call up a similar specter from the Second Plane to harass Abacarus. But think twice! First, 'twill cost you money, albeit I am willing to let that debt ride until you can afford to pay. Secondly, Abacarus is an able wizard. He can throw a protective shield about his abode, like that which the Xylarians put up against my second sight."

  "Does it bother Abacarus to erect and maintain these shields?"

  'To some degree. They consume psychic energy."

  "Then by all means send a dunning specter against him. Tell it to say: 'Cease your extortions!'"

  Goania promised. Next day she told Jorian: "As I said, my specter had barely begun to harass Abacarus when he threw a shield about his chambers in the Academy. When he went home in the even, it followed him, intoning its message; but when he reached his house, he soon erected another shield against it."

  "Can he make a private shield around himself, that shall move with him?"

  "Nay. These shields must needs be anchored in soil or in a fixed abode."

  "Well then, keep it after him when he goes betwixt his home and his oratory."

  The next evening, Jorian idled in the cold, crisp air, along the path outside the Philosophy Building of the Academy. Weird blue lights flickered in the windows of Doctor Abacarus's tower, so Jorian knew the sorcerer was still at work. At length the lights went out, and soon Abacarus issued from the building.

  Behind a tree, Jorian watched as the wizard strode along the campus path, his vast belly bobbing. Presently a dunning specter like that which harassed Jorian appeared close behind Abacarus and began to howl: "Cease your extortions! Cease your extortions!"

  Abacarus turned. Jorian could not see his expression, since the near-darkness was relieved only by starlight and the feeble glow of an oil lamp on a bracket beside the main door of the building. But the sorcerer made gestures, and Jorian's own dunning specter appeared, wailing: "Pay your debts!"

  A clutch of undergraduates came along the path. They halted, and Jorian heard one say: "Great Zevatas, here's a duel of wizards! This should be fun to watch!"

  "If they do not blow up the whole Academy in their strife," said another.

  "I fear no spooks!" said still another. "I'll show you!" The youth picked up a stone and hurled it at Jorian's phantom. The stone passed through the specter without resistance and struck Jorian in the chest.

  "Ho!" roared Jorian, grabbing his unusable sword. He started toward the group, who scampered away and disappeared. When Jorian turned back, Abacarus had also vanished. Jorian set out for the Silver Dragon, with the specter hovering over his shoulder and moaning: "Pay your debts!"

 

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