Elerius had at some point quietly borrowed it.
"When you have the Scepter, Daimbert," the Master continued, "you'll have enough magical power that even Elerius won't dare oppose you. Now that I think about it, perhaps it would be best if you recover it at once, so you'll already have it by the time I die." We were interrupted before he could say more by the silver bird announcing someone. "It seems very early for that doctor Zahlfast insists I see," he grumbled.
I opened the door. This time it was Chin. He too tried to imply that he couldn't possibly have kidnapped me because I didn't even exist. "Excuse me, sir," he said to the Master, staring past me as he would past a piece of furniture, "but would you be able to have a visitor? Elerius wants to see you."
The Master gave an abrupt start, but he managed to say calmly, "Bring him up in about five minutes." As soon as the wizardry student had shut the door behind him he pushed the book toward me. "Go! Go at once! He can't find us together or he'll know. If I don't have a chance to talk to you again, be sure to bring that letter to the school as soon as—well, you know."
I sprang toward the window but stopped myself. "Goodbye, sir. And—"
There didn't seem any good way to say it, so I didn't. Instead I said,
"Thank you for accepting me into the school all those years ago, and for having faith in me."
And then I was gone, shooting out the window and across the City, a small yellow-clad form that Elerius should not even deign to notice. That is, unless Chin happened to mention that the new piece of furniture in the Master's chambers was also the Royal Wizard of Yurt. I flew eastward, the newly-risen sun in my eyes. It was that and exhaustion, I told myself, that made me start weeping.
The letter designating me as the Master's choice for his successor was folded and stuffed inside the cover of the old ledger book. I had no intention of ever producing that letter. I considered letting it flutter away to oblivion, but sentiment, the knowledge that it was the last thing I would ever have from his hand, stayed me. After all, I thought as I doggedly flew toward Yurt, I had promised the Master nothing. He might assume that when he was gone I would blithely try to use his dead influence and some long-forgotten spells out of the old magic to keep Elerius from heading the school, but I had never said I would do it.
Dear God. I was about to defy the dying wishes of the man who had made me a wizard.
V
It was a long flight back to Yurt, tired as I already was, so it was late afternoon before I came across the last stretch of woods to the castle. It reposed peacefully in the sun, its towers whitewashed, its moat dotted with swans. The royal flag snapping from the highest tower showed that the king was in residence.
I hovered for a moment, looking down. The staff was playing volleyball in the courtyard. Among the players I spotted the chestnut-colored braids of my daughter. I smiled and quietly descended.
Antonia was in most ways the same little girl she had always been, but her legs had become startlingly long in the last year or two, and her shape had begun subtly to change; before too long it would be a woman's, not a girl's. She was flushed and laughing from the game and did not at first notice me.
A player on the other side spiked the ball downward, apparently a sure point, but just before the ball touched the ground it abruptly stopped and reversed itself. Another player on Antonia's side batted it up and toward her. She and the ball rose majestically into the air, waiting until the opposition had jumped and come down again. Then she struck the ball hard and true over the net and slowly descended to the ground while her side cheered.
That was interesting, I thought. She'd used a lifting spell on the ball, but it was not the standard school spell. It looked like something she'd improvised herself.
A stable boy spotted me. "Wizard! Antonia's cheating again! Make her
John B. Garvey, Mary Lou Widmer