sink into the cloak, pretend you are falling into the wall behind you. . . .”
Sometime later, Vlad said, “How do you feel?”
Savn realized that a great deal of time had passed, but he didn’t know how much, nor what had occurred during that time. “I feel good,” he said, surprised to discover it. “Like I’m, I don’t know, alive.”
“Good. You took to it well.”
“You mean I’m a witch now?”
“No, that was only the first step, to prepare your mind for the journey.”
“It feels great.”
“I know.”
“What do we do next?”
“Next, we get you home. It’s late.”
“Is it?” Savn reached for the time and blanched. “The gods! I had no idea—”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Mae and Pae—”
“I’ll speak to them.”
“But they—” He bit off his words. He’d been about to say they wouldn’t listen to an Easterner, then realized there was no polite way to say it. In any case, Vlad would find out for himself soon enough.
The Easterner did not appear to notice. He made a sign for Savn toapproach, and when he was there, he clenched his fist, screwed his face up, and Savn found himself once more in Smallcliff, on the north side of town, barely able to make out his surroundings in the faint yellow radiance that Vlad continued to produce.
“You teleported us!” he cried.
“I know you live out somewhere in this direction, and this is the only place I knew well enough to—”
“But you teleported us!”
“Well, yes. You said you were late. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, no, but I don’t know anyone who is good enough to do that.”
“It isn’t all that difficult.”
“You’re a sorcerer.”
“Well, yes, among other things.”
Savn stared at him, his eyes wide, until he realized that he was being rude. Vlad just smiled back at him, then said, “Come. I don’t know where you live, so we’re going to have to walk the rest of the way.”
Stunned, Savn set off along the deserted road. He said, “How do you teleport? I’ve heard of it—”
“It isn’t that hard; you just have to be certain you know exactly where you’re going. The tricky part is not getting sick afterwards, and for that there is witchcraft.”
“But how do you know where you’ll end up?”
“You have to remember it very well—perfectly, in fact. It’s the remembering that allows the journey to take place.”
“What if you can’t remember it that well?”
“Then you’re in trouble.”
“But—”
“Sometimes you can prepare a place to teleport to. It limits you, but it’s good if you’re in a hurry.”
“Can you teach me all this?”
“Maybe. We’ll see. Where is your house?”
“On the other side of this hill, but we should take the road around, because the flax here hasn’t been harvested yet.”
“Very well.”
Vlad seemed to have no trouble finding the road up to the house, though whether this was because Easterners had better night vision, or because of his magical powers, or for some other reason entirely, Savn didn’t know and couldn’t decide on a good way to ask, so he ended by saying nothing, and they spoke no more until they stood before the one-room house, with its single door held on with straps, and two windowscovered with oiled paper. There was a pale yellow light from the lamps and the stove.
“Nice place,” said Vlad.
“Thank you,” said Savn, who had been thinking how small and plain it must look to someone who had lived in Adrilankha.
They had, evidently, been seen, because just before they reached the door it flew open so hard that Savn thought it would tear off its leather hinges, and there were Mae and Pae, silhouetted in the soft glow of the stove. They stood almost motionless, and while Savn couldn’t see the expressions on their faces, his imagination had no trouble supplying Mae’s wide-eyed anger and Pae’s annoyed confusion.
As they stepped forward, Mae said, “Who are you?” which puzzled Savn for a moment,
Sometime later, Vlad said, “How do you feel?”
Savn realized that a great deal of time had passed, but he didn’t know how much, nor what had occurred during that time. “I feel good,” he said, surprised to discover it. “Like I’m, I don’t know, alive.”
“Good. You took to it well.”
“You mean I’m a witch now?”
“No, that was only the first step, to prepare your mind for the journey.”
“It feels great.”
“I know.”
“What do we do next?”
“Next, we get you home. It’s late.”
“Is it?” Savn reached for the time and blanched. “The gods! I had no idea—”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Mae and Pae—”
“I’ll speak to them.”
“But they—” He bit off his words. He’d been about to say they wouldn’t listen to an Easterner, then realized there was no polite way to say it. In any case, Vlad would find out for himself soon enough.
The Easterner did not appear to notice. He made a sign for Savn toapproach, and when he was there, he clenched his fist, screwed his face up, and Savn found himself once more in Smallcliff, on the north side of town, barely able to make out his surroundings in the faint yellow radiance that Vlad continued to produce.
“You teleported us!” he cried.
“I know you live out somewhere in this direction, and this is the only place I knew well enough to—”
“But you teleported us!”
“Well, yes. You said you were late. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, no, but I don’t know anyone who is good enough to do that.”
“It isn’t all that difficult.”
“You’re a sorcerer.”
“Well, yes, among other things.”
Savn stared at him, his eyes wide, until he realized that he was being rude. Vlad just smiled back at him, then said, “Come. I don’t know where you live, so we’re going to have to walk the rest of the way.”
Stunned, Savn set off along the deserted road. He said, “How do you teleport? I’ve heard of it—”
“It isn’t that hard; you just have to be certain you know exactly where you’re going. The tricky part is not getting sick afterwards, and for that there is witchcraft.”
“But how do you know where you’ll end up?”
“You have to remember it very well—perfectly, in fact. It’s the remembering that allows the journey to take place.”
“What if you can’t remember it that well?”
“Then you’re in trouble.”
“But—”
“Sometimes you can prepare a place to teleport to. It limits you, but it’s good if you’re in a hurry.”
“Can you teach me all this?”
“Maybe. We’ll see. Where is your house?”
“On the other side of this hill, but we should take the road around, because the flax here hasn’t been harvested yet.”
“Very well.”
Vlad seemed to have no trouble finding the road up to the house, though whether this was because Easterners had better night vision, or because of his magical powers, or for some other reason entirely, Savn didn’t know and couldn’t decide on a good way to ask, so he ended by saying nothing, and they spoke no more until they stood before the one-room house, with its single door held on with straps, and two windowscovered with oiled paper. There was a pale yellow light from the lamps and the stove.
“Nice place,” said Vlad.
“Thank you,” said Savn, who had been thinking how small and plain it must look to someone who had lived in Adrilankha.
They had, evidently, been seen, because just before they reached the door it flew open so hard that Savn thought it would tear off its leather hinges, and there were Mae and Pae, silhouetted in the soft glow of the stove. They stood almost motionless, and while Savn couldn’t see the expressions on their faces, his imagination had no trouble supplying Mae’s wide-eyed anger and Pae’s annoyed confusion.
As they stepped forward, Mae said, “Who are you?” which puzzled Savn for a moment,
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