The Ambivalent Magician - Simon Hawke, ebook
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THE AMBIVALENT MAGICIANTHE AMBIVALENT MAGICIANCopyright © 1996 by Simon Hawkeebook ver. 1.0FOR THE SONORA WRITERS WORKSHOP,with warm thanks to my students, Janis Gemetta, Carrie Cooper, Roser Hyland,Davis Palmer, Misha Bumett, Phil Fleishman, Barbara McCulloush, Shiori Pluard,Dan Tuttle, Ron Wilcox and Toby Herschler, with all the best wishes in their ownwriting endeavors. Also, special thanks to Dave Foster, Margie and James Kosky,Bruce and Peggy Wiley, Bob Powers, Sandy West, all my friends in the ECS and theSCA, and Otis Bronson and my colleagues in the writing department at PimaCommunity College in Tuscon, Arizona. Thanks for the friendship and support.One"At last! I've done it! After months of ceaseless scrying, spellcasting anddivination, endless, patient searching through the vast, uncharted reaches ofthe ethereal planes, I've finally found him!""Found who, Master?" the wizard's hairy little troll familiar asked, pausing inhis dusting of the ancient vellum tomes and scrolls that crammed the bookcasesand were piled high on almost every available flat surface in the sorcerer'ssanctorum."The voice in the ether!" Warrick Morgannan replied triumphantly. "Thatarrogant, omniscient spirit who calls himself ... the Narrator!""Oh-oh," said Teddy, picking his nose and glancing up at the ceilingapprehensively.Oh-oh, indeed. This is rather inconvenient. Your faithful narrator wasn't readyto start working on this book, yet. I have too many other things to do. My deskis piled high with papers from my students; I've got to complete some revisionson another novel I've been working on; I'm finishing up work on a graduatedegree; my checkbook is hopelessly unbalanced, and the last thing I needed rightnow was this."Never mind the excuses," Warrick said, his long white hair framing his chiseledfeatures as he bent over the scrying crystal. Dark red eddies swirled like smokewithin the pellucid ball as he concentrated on the crystal, focusing hisenergies in an effort to achieve resolution of an image. "You've been hidingfrom me long enough! Now I've tracked you down through the ethereal planes andthe time for reckoning has come!"Reckoning, schmeckoning. I haven't been hiding, I've been busy. Look, I've gotenough trouble with readers pestering me about when the next book in this seriesis coming out without having one of my characters start interfering with mywriting process. Now get out of my computer and slither back to the depths of mysubconscious where you belong. I've got work to do."No, you shall not get rid of me that easily," said Warrick, staring intently atthe swirling eddies in the crystal. "You have meddled in my affairs for the lasttime. Your powers are considerable, and I must concede a grudging admiration foryour skills in this sorcerous art you call 'narration,' but I, Warrick theWhite, of the House of Morgannan, Grand Director of the Sorcerers and AdeptsGuild and Royal Wizard to the Kingdom of Pitt, will not be trifled with by someupstart demigod from the ethereal planes!"Oh, please. For one thing, I'm no demigod, I'm just a struggling writer tryingto make a living. And you're a fictional character, for God's sake. You don'teven exist except in my imagination."Do not attempt to work your wiles on me, Narrator. I think, therefore I exist."It's "I think, therefore I am. Cogito, ergo sum." Rene" Descartes. If you'regoing to quote, get it right. I will not have my readers thinking I'm a sloppywriter. You've already gotten this book off to a really bizarre start, and myeditors still haven't recovered from the last time you pulled something likethis. They just don't understand how a writer can lose control over his owncharacters. I had to take some time off from this series and write a seriousbook just to prove to them I haven't gone totally around the bend. They're stillnot sure about me, and it's all your fault. This isn't helping any. You'remaking my life very difficult, you know."Not nearly as difficult as it is going to be," said Warrick, concentratingfiercely on the crystal in an effort to bring forth an image of the Narrator, sohe would finally know what the mysterious "voice in the ether" looked like.However, at precisely that moment, Teddy, his little troll familiar, had aslight mishap. Only Warrick was capable of hearing the strange, disembodiedentity he called "the Narrator," so as he watched his master speaking to thecrystal ball, Teddy could only hear one side of the conversation. As a result,he wasn't paying very close attention to his work, and the little troll backedinto a chair and knocked over a precariously balanced pile of ancient scrollsand vellum tomes. They went crashing to the floor of the sanctorum, making atremendous racket and upsetting Warrick's concentration."Very clever," Warrick said, "but you have only succeeded in delaying theinevitable. I have not attained the highest rank in the Sorcerers and AdeptsGuild for nothing. My concentration is not so easily broken." He returned hisattention to the crystal ball, willing an image of the narrator to appear.Unfortunately, that wasn't going to happen, because no matter how hard heconcentrated, he couldn't change the fact that this particular crystal ballwasn't equipped for optically correct visual reception. The most it could do wasallow him to hear voices from the ethereal planes and see vague, indistinctforms and pretty swirling colors."That's ridiculous!" said Warrick. "Of what use is a scrying crystal if onecannot see images within it?"Not much use at all, apparently. Too bad."This is absurd! I have been using this scrying crystal for years and it hasnever yet failed to serve me properly."I guess it must be broken, then."Nonsense. The scrying crystal is functioning perfectly," Warrick insisted. "Andas Warrick redoubled his prodigious powers of concentration, despite all theefforts of the Narrator, the swirling eddies in the crystal started to resolveinto an image -"No, they didn't. And cut that out."Despite all his narrative wiles, the voice in the ether could not control theimage that started to resolve within the crystal as Warrick concentratedfiercely, and in answer to his will, the swirling mists within the scryingcrystal cleared, revealing -"There was a tremendous crash as Teddy the troll tripped over some ancient vellumtomes that had fallen to the floor and knocked into the table, dislodging thescrying crystal from its ornate pedestal and causing it to roll across the tableand plummet to the floor, where it shattered into a thousand pieces."Ooops," said Teddy."You miserable, misbegotten warthog! Now see what you've done!" Warrick shoutedangrily, his chair crashing to the floor as he jumped to his feet and fixed abaleful glare on the frightened little troll."Forgive me, Master! I... I didn't mean it! It was an accident!""I think not," said Warrick, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "'Twas theNarrator, working his wiles upon you to interfere with me. I begin to see themethod in his craft. He strikes at me through you.""But, Master, I would never betray you!""No, not willingly," Warrick replied, "but your will is too weak to resist thepowers of the Narrator. So long as you remain with me, he can use you as aweapon with which to thwart my plans. That leaves me with no choice. I must berid of you.""Master..." the little troll said fearfully. "Master, please! I have alwaysserved you faithfully!""And in reward for your years of faithful service, I shall not take your life,"said Warrick. "But henceforth, Teddy, you are banished from my presence. Go.Leave me. You are free.""But, Master ..." wailed the little troll miserably, "where shall I go? Whatshall I do?""I don't know, go hide under a bridge or something. Isn't that what trollsusually do?""Under a bridge?" said Teddy. "But, Master, 'tis cold and damp underneathbridges! I shall catch a chill! And however shall I live?""Eat billy goats," said Warrick. "Consume the occasional small child. There areplenty of them running about unsupervised, painting graffiti on the bridges. Youwould only be doing the kingdom a service if you ate them. I'm sure no one wouldcomplain. Now get along, Teddy, I have work to do.""Master, please ... don't send me away!" wailed Teddy. "I don't even likechildren!""You have a very simple choice, Teddy," Warrick said. "You may either take yourfreedom and go make something of yourself, or become the subject of my nextexperiment.""No, Master, anything but that!" cried Teddy, with an alarmed glance at thestrange and frightening apparatus that sat in the center of Warrick's sanctorum."Then go. I grant you your freedom. The Narrator shall trouble you no longer.And as soon as I fetch my spare scrying crystal, we shall see who must prevailin this battle of wills."Warrick turned to get his spare scrying crystal from the carved wooden armoirewhere he kept his magical supplies, but as he opened it and withdrew his sparecrystal ball, a punishing blow struck him from behind. He grunted and collapsedto the floor, unconscious. The crystal fell and shattered into a hundredthousand pieces."Oh, no!" said Teddy, staring with dismay at the broomstick with which he hadjust brained his former master. "What have I done?" Dropping the broom, hebolted out of the sanctorum, fleeing in panic.Okay, that takes care of Warrick for a while. Now, where were we? Give me aminute to collect my wits. This book's already off to a rather rocky start. Ididn'...
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