The Magehound   ::   Каннингем Элейн

"There betwisters tonight, m'lord?" the helmsman asked with studious calm. "You looked ahead to see, so to speak?"

Procopio turned to regard the man. "Would I have accepted Lord Basel's wager if I had not? There will be a bit of weather as we pass the city's storm break, however. Basel's apprentices plan to cast spells of wind summoning. Could be nasty to someone whose ship or crew are ill prepared." He paused for a small, cool smile. "Pity about poor Basel's aft mast."

* * * * *

As if in response to the diviner's words, the third mast of the Avariel, Basel Indoulur's skyship, began to groan in the gathering wind. The conjurer turned and regarded it with mild puzzlement. The wood was flexible, taken from the date palms that lined the stormy Bay of Taertal. Spells of binding kept the masts firm, and Farrah Noor, one of his most competent apprentices, had been charged with renewing the enchantment.

The wizard shrugged and turned back to the grinning trio of apprentices that awaited his command. "Ready to cast the wind charm?"

They nodded and began to chant in unison, their hands moving through the graceful gestures that summoned and shaped the magic. Basel left them to the task and turned his face into the wind, enjoying the bracing rush.

Suddenly a powerful gust caught the ship and sent it listing dangerously to one side. The spellcasting wizards stumbled to the deck and slid, smashing into the side of the ship in a tangle of limbs. Wood began to creak alarmingly and the sails flapped thunderously. Basel braced his feet wide and seized the control rod himself, chanting as he struggled with magic and skill to right the Avariel.

The ship fought him like a panicked mare, and the aft mast began to creak and splinter. Resignedly Basel knew what must be done. Reaching out with a spell of unbinding, he magically severed the ropes that fastened the sails to the masts. The heavy canvas whipped away, and at last the ship came upright. They were safe, but hopelessly becalmed.

Basel watched as his apprentices rose to their feet and brushed at their crimson finery. All three of them looked rumpled and rattled, but the expression of puzzlement on Farrah's pretty face confirmed Basel's growing suspicions. He gestured the young woman to his side.

"Let me see the gestures to the wind spell," he said mildly. "Leave out the chant, if you please."

The apprentice went through half the spell before she flushed and faltered. "I seem to have forgotten the third quatrain," she admitted. "Only this morning I knew it perfectly.