"A Happy Birthday" by Will Shetterly

EARLY ONE MORNING in the month of Fruit, The Magician stood on a tower that rose over Liavek's Old Town. A late summer breeze bore the smells of the sea, and mingled with the tang of brine were the traces of smoke from cooking fires, the aroma of pot-boils simmering and bread baking in brick ovens. The breeze also brought the cries of seagulls and a healthy murmur of conversation, curses, greetings, laughter, bits of song—all the noises that a successful center of trade and art should produce in early morning. The City of Luck gleamed in sunlight reflected from tiled roofs and painted stucco walls. A slight smile touched The Magician's youthful features. If there was something of wistfulness in that smile, there was contentment, too.

A new sound came from behind him, of light footsteps on the stairs. A new smell joined those of morning: a hint of copper and jasmine. Then a woman's body pressed against his back and her arms embraced him. He felt her stand on tiptoe to kiss his neck, then heard her say, "You're being rather flashy this morning."

He shrugged, a little embarrassed. "I've never seen Liavek from this height."

"I thought you were advertising for clients. Liavek's never seen a tower on Wizard's Row."

"Well. not in a few generations, anyway. Besides, it's only visible to magicians."

He felt the woman nod. "It's beautiful."

''The tower?" The golden cylinder was half again as high as Mystery Hill, usually the highest point in Liavek.

"No, my vain love. The city." She moved to his side, and he put his arm around her. After a moment, she lifted a hand and said, "Here." She held a box wrapped in silver cloth.

He raised an eyebrow.

She smiled. "Don't pretend you'd forgotten, Trav. You just felt like waking well before noon. You just felt like expending Rikiki knows how much power raising a tower that only people like us can see. Right." Slightly off-key, she sang:

On each birthday, for the hours

Mothers labored giving birth,

Folk receive from unknown powers

Luck, a gift of unknown worth.

On each birthday, wizards wrestle

With their birth luck to invest

Birth luck's power in a vessel

Granting magic on request.

On each birthday, sad folk wander

Hoping luck will alter fate.

Happy folk who will not squander

Happiness stay home and wait.

Happy birthday, happy luckday,

May kind fortune follow you,

Luck's capricious, luck loves patterns.

May my gift shape luck for you.

She thrust the box at him. "Happy birthday."

With a laugh, Trav set the box on the wall and quickly unwrapped it. Her present's nature was obvious when the first corner of the box was revealed. The sides and bottom were teak, but its top was a tessellated inlay of ivory and rosewood. "It opens?"

She nodded, and her wiry bronze hair bounced about her face.

''Thanks, Gogo. How?"

With a smirk, Gogo slid one of the side panels. The game board tilted up, and shah pieces lay beneath it in felt-lined beds. Each had been carefully carved and painted, so their living models were easy to identify. One set of pieces stood on bases of enameled Liavekan blue and the other on Tichenese yellow.

Trav moved his finger across the rows. He touched the figure of a small girl in long robes. "The Levar, dressed as she was on her last official birthday."

"Who else for shah of Liavek?"

He tapped another, a middle-aged man in the red robes of the Faith of the Twin Forces. "And His Scarlet Eminence, the Levar's Regent."

"Of course. Who else for sultana? His reach extends to the limits of the board. I think he'd be flattered."

"I do, too." Trav touched two others, one of himself and one of an old woman who wore her white hair braided about her head. "The Ka'Riatha and me. That's very flattering, but you could've used yourself for a wizard."

"I could've used half a dozen folk. But you've been The Magician for nearly three hundred years; you have to be there. And Granny's the link between the old city of S'Rian and the new one of Liavek."

Trav's finger brushed over the two Liavekan towers, one being the Levar's palace and one Fin Castle, and rested again by a stocky, older woman in a gray uniform and a blue cloak sitting on a racing camel. "City General D'genli for one warrior." He touched a man astride a white horse. The man's red cape helped identify him, as did two flintlock pistols in his sash, as did two dark scars on either side of his face. "And dear Count Dashif for the other. An interesting choice."

Gogo wrinkled her lip, then said, "Admiral Tinthe would have been more appropriate, but a ship would've taken too much space on the board."

The soldier pieces were a miscellany of Liavekan inhabitants: a ship's captain with a shaven head, a white-robed priest of the Church of Truth, a red-haired Levar's Guard, a gaudily dressed entertainer of indeterminate sex, an elegantly dressed noble carrying a walking stick, a street musician playing a cittern, a slender girl in clothes too large for her, and a tall, attractive woman with a whip coiled about one shoulder. Trav paused by the last. "That's the woman from the Tiger's Eye? Who are the rest?"

"Just folk who caught my eye."

Trav nodded as he scanned the other pieces. "The Emperor of Tichen for the opposing shah; his daughter for sultana. I agree. For wizards, the Guild of Power's Old Teacher and Young Teacher." He touched the latter. "Someone new has taken the Young Teacher's part."

"Yes. Djanhiz ola Vikili. They say she's more impetuous than Chiano Mefini, but more powerful, too."

Trav laughed suddenly and pointed. "King Thelm and Prince Jeng of Ka Zhir for Tichenese soldiers! You do have a wicked wit, my love."

She grinned. "Just because they don't know they're pawns—"

"It's a little frightening to see Liavek's opponents laid so neatly out."

"Isn't it consoling to see our defenders?"

"Not really. Well, I suppose." He kissed her and said, "Thank you. I suppose we should go below before my magic fades." In spite of his words, he made no move toward the stairs. "I wonder who'll take part in the next game between Liavek and Ka Zhir?" He glanced at the figure of the Levar's Guard, then looked from the set of playing pieces to Liavek below them. "And I wonder if Tichen's Old Teacher has a similar shah set?"

•

Bejing Ki, Old Teacher of the Guild of Power, flew over the sands of the Great Waste in the belly of a large red bird made of wicker and painted cloth. Her apprentice, a nomad boy named Chiba, sat before her, peering through the red bird's eyes and guiding its flight with levers that controlled the angle of its wings and tail. Bejing's power had lifted the bird into the air above Tichen, but the former Young Teacher, Chiano Mefini, had designed it so well that Chiba's power was sufficient to propel it forward. The Old Teacher's thoughts were free to drift or plan as the Old Teacher pleased. She tried to anticipate her actions in Liavek and found she could not.

A cluster of images continued to return to her. She heard Chiano whisper his story, and she saw him gasp and die when he finished. She thought of The Magician, and how weak he would be in less than an hour. Chiano had said that today was The Magician's birthday, when the thing called power by the Tichenese and birth luck by the Liavekans would flee whatever vessel Trav had invested it in and return to his body. And while he labored to reinvest his luck before his birth hours ended, he would have no magic to use on other things. Every spell he had ever cast would have failed. Trav, The Magician of Liavek, would be as defenseless on this day as any wizard can ever be.

Chiano Mefini had been her sister's son. The Old Teacher had loved him as if he had been her own. Someone would pay.

•

A very smaIl girl in a clean, unbleached tunic ran through the Canal District of Liavek's New Town. No one chased her, and she did not seem to chase anyone else, so most people smiled and stepped aside for her. A few frowned and muttered about "children today."

Far ahead of her, two men in the gray of the Levar's Guard walked toward the municipal hall. Both wore light wool capes of Liavekan blue, thrown back from their shoulders since the morning had already begun to grow warmer. One was a tall, stocky man with his hair tied at the nape of his neck; the other was slimmer and shorter with reddish hair, though his complexion was as dark as any Liavekan's. The girl's black eyes widened when she saw them and she tried to yell, but she was too tired and too far away. Her calls of "Rusty! Rusty! Wait for me, Rusty!" disappeared among the sounds of the street.

The two were about to turn onto the Street of the Dreamers when a dog ran into the red-haired man's legs. He tripped into a rack of costly clothing set beside a shop called Master L'von's. An old man ran from the shop at the sound, then stopped. "I suppose you're trying to flush some damned Zhir counterfeiter from the ladies' undergarments, Lieutenant?"

"No, I—" Rusty pointed toward the dog, but it was gone. "I tripped. Sorry."

"'S'all right." The man and the guards set up the rack again and brushed dust from the clothes. "Nothing hurt but the reputation of the Gray Guards, eh?"

Rusty winced and shrugged. As the man went back into his shop, Rusty said, "Two days counting baubles in a ship that stank like a dragon had died in its hold just because the Navy's too incompetent to sink a captured pirate. Then our replacements relieve us an hour late. Now this. I swear I—"

The girl ran up to him. "Rusty, Rusty! You gotta come help!"

Rusty squatted to catch her in a hug. "Sessi! What's happened?"

"I was playing ball, and the ball rolled into a street, and it disappeared!"

He laughed. "That's odd, little sister, but it's hardly a catastrophe."

"Yes, it is! It was Kolli's favorite ball, and he won't like me anymore if I've lost it."

Rusty nodded. "All right, Sessi. We'll go find it. Where'd the ball disappear?"

"The ball didn't disappear, Rusty. The street disappeared."

The two Guards glanced at each other. The stockier one scratched his scalp. "Wizard's Row, huh? Want some help, Rusty?"

"No. It's probably there now." He stood, touched his forehead in salute to his friend, and began to walk away with the girl. Suddenly, he spun and said, "Stone! What's today?"

"I dunno. Rainday, I think."

Rusty nodded. "Lost track on that inventory job. Tell Captain Bastian I'm taking the day off!"

"She won't like that."

"Tell her it's my birthday present. I'm going to help Sessi find her ball, then I'm going home to hide for the next five hours."

•

At mid-morning, 17 Wizard's Row was a square, two-story structure of yellow brick. Its front door was oak, with brass fittings which included a large gargoyle's head with a lolling tongue. Two very dark men and a very tall woman approached wearing dusty, hooded robes of the clans of the Waste. One reached to pull the gargoyle's tongue and it snapped at his hand. The man stepped back, glancing in surprise at his companions.

The gargoyle said, "Go away. We're busy today."

The man hesitated, then said nervously, "We've traveled far. We want to see The Magician."

"Want all you will," the gargoyle said. "But want somewhere else."

The shorter man, who stood to one side, moved suddenly for the handle. The gargoyle's head swung toward him. It began to step out of the oak as though it had only been lying in a pool of water, but the woman touched the gargoyle's neck with a carnelian ring. The gargoyle halted immediately, a bas-relief of a beast with its chest and front claws lunging from the door.

"How long will that hold him, Young Teacher?" said the shorter man.

"Long enough," said the woman, pushing on one of the gargoyle's paws. The door swung silently open.

A dark hall lay beyond, with light splashed at the far end from another room. Djanhiz ola Vikili, Young Teacher of the Guild of Power, remembered what she had learned when she had invaded this house under Chiano Mefini's direction: 17 Wizard's Row was inhabited by the guard they had just passed, two cats, and two humans: Trav The Magician and Gogo. The guardian at the door, whether demon, god, or eccentric magician, was now trapped by a spell which could check earthquakes and tidal waves. Protective spells hid the three intruders from the cats' senses. The hours of The Magician's birth had begun, so all of Trav's power and training were turned to reinvesting his birth luck before those hours ended. Only Gogo remained to face the combined skill of three sorcerers of the Guild of Power.

The taller man completed a simple illusion so that passersby would see The Magician's door closed. Djanhiz nodded her approval. The shorter man said, "Done," and Djanhiz felt a mystical tether about her waist, linking her to the street like a diver or a climber. If the house suddenly traveled away from Wizard's Row, her companion's spell would snatch them out of it.

Rumor held that others had entered this house uninvited. None had left of their own choice. Some, it was said, had not left at all. The three Tichenese walked slowly down the hall, using every sense to search for traps. Djanhiz found many, and since The Magician's would have failed when his birth-time began, these had to be Gogo's. The Young Teacher's respect for her increased with each guardian spell she unraveled. Half of The Magician's reputation might have come from Gogo's efforts.

At the end of the hall, Djanhiz peered into the open door of a small office. A short, slender woman in a green shift sat facing a slim man who lay on a wicker couch, his body covered with a light sheet for warmth or ritual purposes. The Magician's eyes were closed, as if he slept or meditated. Gogo's lips moved as though she were singing, and her gaze remained focused on The Magician. Neither gave any sign that they were aware of the three intruders.

The shorter Tichenese whispered, "Why is she here? Investiture is private."

Djanhiz said in her usual speaking voice, "You don't see it?"

"No," the man admitted, with a hint of shame.

"How old is The Magician?"

"Two centuries, at least."

"And does he have some artifact of power to keep him alive when his age returns to his body with his birth luck?"

"He must, if he has lived..." The short man glanced at Gogo, who still chanted silently. "He trusts her? Another magician?"

The man's voice went loud with surprise, and Djanhiz laughed. "Obviously. Perhaps he pays her so much that he thinks she cannot be bribed. Perhaps she is so powerful that he does not expect an enemy's spell to bend her will to learn his weaknesses, and perhaps she is so determined that he thinks torture could never break her will. Perhaps they love each other so much that they trust each other without other considerations. It is very romantic, isn't it?"

The taller man spoke for the first time. "Yes."

"And it is a shame that they are our enemies," said Djanhiz. "Yet Liavek's growth must be at Tichen's expense. So we must check that growth with a few careful prunings."

She touched Gogo's back with the carnelian ring.

•

As Rusty walked up Healer's Street with the girl's hand in his, he said, "You play up here often?"

"Uh-huh."

"You shouldn't."

"Uh-huh."

"'Course, I suppose that's why it's so much fun."

"Uh-huh. Look! It's there now! Wizzer's Row!"

"Of course. If you'd gone back on your own a little later, it probably would've been there."

"Uh-uh. It's 'cause you're in the Guard, Rusty."

He laughed. "Right, kid."

This section of Old Town was never as busy as other districts of Liavek, for most of the trade was across the Cat River in New Town, by the docks and in the Merchant's Quarter. Old Town's life centered on Temple Hill and Mystery Hill, and in the bustling old market between them, the Two-Copper Bazaar. But Wizard's Row almost always seemed deserted, or so Rusty thought. It was never the same, but it was usually quiet, often mysterious, always awesome. Some of the buildings were so common as to be unnoticeable. Others were constructed in impossible ways, and some of impossible things. One house seemed to be made of living birds who flew about in a pattern that always shaped a house, though the style and size of the house shifted with the flight of the birds.

"Where's the ball, Sessi?" He wondered if his nervousness carried to her.

"I dunno." She began walking down Wizard's Row, peering into every yard. "Maybe it went to see someone."

"I doubt that." He spotted a battered white ball in front of a gate midway down the street.

"That it, Sessi?"

"Yaaay, Rusty!"

He released her hand and they ran for the ball. He laughed again, forgetting his nervousness. As they came close to it, Sessi said, "Rusty, look!" He glanced where she pointed, at a house unharmed by the flames that surrounded it. His foot came down on the ball. He fell, barely catching himself, and the ball scooted into the nearest yard. Looking up from the ground, Rusty saw a brass gargoyle on the door and the number seventeen above the lintel.

"I been here before," Sessi whispered.

Rusty set his hand on her shoulder. "Yes. The Magician's. He sent you to live with Mom and Dad, thinking they had no children. "

"I like him. He's got cats."

"I suppose so," he answered, and the conversation suddenly seemed very strange. "Well. Let's get the ball and go, hey?"

"Sure, Rusty." The girl ran along the flagstones. She reached for the ball, then straightened up, leaving the ball where it lay. "Something's funny about the door."

''I'm sure it is, kid." He grabbed the ball.

Sessi stood before the brass gargoyle. She reached out to pat its nose, and before Rusty could stop her, her hand passed through the illusion. She gasped. "Something's wrong, Rusty!"

"I know," he said carefully, moving toward her. "It's my birthday. I should be asleep in my own bed. I should not be on Wizard's Row, trespassing on The Magician's lawn. Let's—"

Sessi stepped through the illusion of The Magician's door.

"I hate kids," Rusty whispered. He breathed deeply, touched his short sword with the back of the hand holding the ball, and entered 17 Wizard's Row.

•

For Trav, several things happened so quickly that he could not place them in order. His thoughts were of investiture, of coercing his birth luck into his favorite vessel. The birth luck struggled against his will, as it always did, but he felt himself close to success. Then Gogo seemed to start, or maybe her abrupt cessation of motion only seemed to have begun with a tiny movement, the slightest anticipation of surprise. Her words ceased, and so did the flow of power from her spell of youth. The sky fell upon him, as if it would crush him into the sofa. His attempt at investiture collapsed. The birth luck returned to his helpless body, but he did not have the strength to try to use it.

The light in the room grew dimmer, then disappeared just as three shadows seemed to appear. His mouth fell open, but he could not speak. He lay motionless. Something in his mind shrieked in fear. Something else said, This is death. Accept it.

•

In the crowded office, the three Tichenese sorcerers looked at the withered thing that was The Magician. "He still breathes," said the short man.

"For a while," Djanhiz said.

"He has all his teeth," the short man said. ''I'd think that he would lose his teeth."

"He took very good care of them."

"Ah." They listened to Trav's slow breaths. "I could smother him," the short man offered.

"No," the tall man said.

"No," Djanhiz agreed. "We are not murderers."

The short man looked at her in surprise, then covered his surprise and said nothing. The tall man spread his fingers wide before them. "Our hands are hardly clean."

"No," Djanhiz agreed. "Nor am I proud of this. But I will be proud of success." She glanced at The Magician. "I wonder if he still lives because his birth luck is within him? Or if it is only that death has not yet recognized its opportunity?"

"Does it matter?" said the smaller man. Djanhiz shrugged. "No. He cannot live much longer. We will wait."

•

The hall was dark, lit primarily by light reflected from a far room. The illusion of the closed front door remained inside the house; either the magic that created it also blocked light, or it preserved the illusion very thoroughly. Rusty walked in, wanting to tiptoe in hopes of leaving undisturbed and wanting to stomp so the residents would know he did not come as a thief or an assassin. He opened his mouth to call Sessi's name.

Movement toward the middle of the hall proved to be the girl, huddled against a door. Her motion was the bringing of her finger to her mouth for silence. In spite of himself, he obeyed as he came up to her. He reached for her shoulder to grab her and take her away when he heard Tichenese voices from The Magician's study.

That was not odd. Many Tichenese lived in Liavek, and many visited for reasons of politics or trade. The Tichenese embassy was not far from here. Rusty had spent a year in Tichen; he respected the people and their culture. He also knew enough of their language to be surprised when a woman said, "Chiano Mefini failed the Empire, but we will not. Indeed, The Magician's death restores glory to his name."

"Perhaps," a man said. "What of the woman?"

"We will let her live. Perhaps she will inherit The Magician's title. It will be good for the head witch of this little nation to have known failure at Tichenese hands."

"And now?"

"Now we wait. I've completed a spell to ensure privacy. No one, wizard or other, will be able to enter the house until one of us leaves."

Happy birthday to me, Rusty thought.

Danger or caution or surprise had left him unable to do more than listen. Still considering the implications of the woman's words, Rusty mimicked Sessi's gesture and prayed she would understand to be silent. He tugged Sessi's shoulder. She shook her head, but when he tugged again, she began to follow.

Halfway to the door, a floorboard creaked loudly under his sandal.

Three people in bulky robes raced into the hall. One whirled, pointing back into the study and saying to another, "Very well. Kill The Magician."

Rusty pushed Sessi toward the door. "Run!" Would anyone's departure cause the woman's spell to fail? If so, Sessi could bring someone back....Rusty felt her ball still in his hand, so he flung it hard down the hall at the head of the Tichenese returning to The Magician's office, It hit and the man fell, and Rusty praised his birth luck.

Rusty spun to flee and something seemed to envelop his legs. Sessi stopped before the door, crying, "Rusty!"

"Go on!" he shouted at her. He drew his sword, knowing that steel was useless against wizards. "Run, Sessi! Get help!" The woman who seemed to be the Tichenese leader walked toward him. She smiled grimly as she raised a carnelian ring.

He slashed at her hand. She dodged, laughed, and said something quickly, and his sword arm was caught in whatever held his legs. Watching the ring approach his chest, he yelled again, "Run, Sessi! Get out! Get help!"

At the edge of his vision, he saw Sessi leap through the illusion of the closed door. The spell dissolved, and the hall brightened with admitted sunlight.

The tall male Tichenese ran past them to catch Sessi halfway down The Magician's walk. She screamed and kicked in his grasp, and he carried her back with difficulty.

The Tichenese woman turned her hand to touch Rusty's chest with her palm rather than the ring. "What have you gained, Liavekan? A moment of time and nothing more." Casually, she tapped Sessi with the ring as the tall man passed by them, and the girl stiffened in his grasp.

"Damn you—"

"No," the woman said, touching his lips with her finger. "You've been nuisance enough. I'll restore my spell about this house, and then—"

A small red bird glided through the open door.

•

The Magician wrestled with the question of what had happened to him, to his house, to Gogo, to Gogo, to Gogo.... Something in him said, Live! For her, live! And something answered, How? I'm old, old…. He tried with one supreme effort to raise himself and he felt pain in his chest.

He relaxed then, and the voice that said, Die now, Trav, die gracefully, for it's time, was pleased. It said, Yes. Accept this. It's been a good life. And the voice that said, Live, Trav! Live for her, for yourself, for your city! was pleased. It said, Yes. Save your strength. Relax. Breathe shallowly. Think. You are The Magician of Liavek, Trav Marik. Survival is success. Survive.

•

As Rusty watched, two tiny things leaped from the stiff red bird. They landed on the hall tiles, becoming an old Tichenese woman and a nomad boy, both dressed in dark blue robes. The boy immediately ran to pick up the bird, which seemed to be a toy of lacquered paper. The three Tichenese in desert robes bowed very low to the old woman, the tallest man first placing Sessi carefully on the floor. Rusty thought the old woman must be their leader, come to view their success.

He began to wonder if this was true when the young Tichenese woman said, "Teacher, this is not your concern. I—"

The old woman gestured for silence, then turned slightly away to accept the toy bird from the boy. As it began to shrink even smaller in the old woman's palm, the young woman snapped her carnelian ring toward the old woman's side.

Rusty grabbed the young woman's wrist with his free left hand. She exhaled loudly, almost a bark, in frustration or annoyance.

The old woman placed the red bird in her pocket, turned, and smiled at them both. For a moment, Rusty wondered whether he had done the best or the worst he could do by acting.

The old woman flicked her hands as if flinging water from them. The three Tichenese in desert robes disappeared. Tiny things like black beads lay where each had stood. The nomad boy gathered the three beads and presented them to the old woman. She nodded to Rusty and suddenly his limbs were free.

"Thank you," she said. Before he could reply, the woman and the boy entered The Magician's office.

•

Power coursed suddenly about Trav, as though he were immersed in a pool of the raw essence of magic. His eyes opened. Cool air filled his lungs. He smelled foreign scents, perfume and sweat. He sat up, starting to reach out about him to learn where he was, and then he could see. Shapes resolved themselves in instants. Gogo sat before him with an expression of desperate relief.

He caught her, or maybe he threw himself into her arms; he could not tell. After a moment, he looked around his office and saw they were not alone. An old woman watched with something like cold approval on her face. She wore a silk robe of a blue that seemed darker than black, and after a second, Trav recognized her.

He released Gogo to lean forward in a deep bow, bringing the fingers of both hands to his forehead. "Bejing Ki, Old Teacher of the Guild of Power. I would never have expected mercy from you, though I thank you for it."

The woman's face wrinkled into a smile. "Trav The Magician. This is not mercy; this is an attempt to restore honor. You must forgive me."

"If you will explain what has happened," Trav said carefully, "I think I will forgive anything."

"Explanations later," Gogo said. "We have an investiture to complete."

The old woman lifted both eyebrows. "You hope to succeed, with so little time remaining?"

"He is The Magician," Gogo replied.

Trav set his hand on Gogo's. "And I have friends."

•

In the hall, Sessi suddenly leaped up, crying, "Rusty, what—"

He caught her. "'S'all right, Sessi. I think. C'mon, let's—"

A short, scowling, dark-haired man in a green tunic stood by the front door. The man touched both hands to his forehead and bowed low. "He says you're owed an explanation, too. I don't think so. Come."

"Who's he?" Reluctantly, Rusty sheathed his short sword.

"The Magician, of course. Owes me an explanation first. No matter. Come."

The man opened one of the many hall doors, gesturing them into a sitting room, then brought refreshments and left again. Sessi whispered, "That's the door thing."

"The servant?"

She nodded, then began to feast on honeycakes and lemonade. A gray and white cat hid under her chair, as though it had not decided whether it approved of these visitors. A cream-colored cat climbed onto Rusty's shoulder, where it purred contentedly, occasionally drooling a bit.

The sullen man opened the hall door again and the old Tichenese woman and the boy entered. Rusty stood to salute in the southern fashion and the two bowed. "An explanation soon," the woman said. The gray and white cat brushed against her ankles and she smiled.

Half an hour passed while Rusty and Teacher Ki talked of Tichen and Liavek and the importance of free trade. Sessi and the boy found a shah set. Ignoring the board, they improvised some game with its pieces, and bits of their conversation occasionally interrupted that of the adults: "An' the whip lady says, 'Hi, Master Emperor, I like sausages and beans a lot!'"

Trav, Gogo, and the scowling man returned. Trav made introductions: "Mistress Gogoaniskithli and Master Didieskilor..."

"Gogo and Didi will suffice," Gogo said.

"For her," said the scowling man.

"... Lieutenant Lian Jassil and his sister by adoption, Sessi Jassil..."

"Hi," said Sessi.

"...Mistress Bejing Ki, Teacher of the Guild of Power, and Chiba of the Tilandre clans."

The Old Teacher nodded. "l owe all of you an apology, I fear." She opened her hand, showing three dark beads. "These hold the souls of my Young Teacher, Djanhiz ola Vikili, and two of her aides." She glanced at Trav. "How much shall I tell before these outsiders?"

"Enough to explain what has happened."

"Very well." The three beads disappeared and the woman laced her fingers in her lap. "Some time ago, the previous Young Teacher, Chiano Mefini, laid a trap for The Magician. It failed, but in the course of events, he learned several of The Magician's secrets. The Magician allowed him to live, after he took a vow on his life and luck never to reveal those secrets."

"A vow which he seems to have broken."

"Not by choice, Trav The Magician. There are factions in the Guild of Power, as there are factions in any group. Djanhiz led the most radical of those. When Chiano returned to Tichen in disgrace, he gave up the title of Young Teacher, left our guild, and turned his attention from the study of magic to the study of science. Djanhiz had accompanied him to Liavek, and she knew that he had learned more about The Magician than he had said, so she forced a spell of compulsion upon him and he told her all he knew."

"It was not his fault, then."

"Perhaps not. Perhaps he thought if he had been more careful, he would not have been trapped by her. He escaped from the trap she had left him in and came to me. After he told me what had happened, he willed his death."

"I am sorry."

"As am I. Still, I came to preserve our honor, if I could. You needn't worry about your secrets, Trav The Magician. My apprentice and I have both taken the same vow that Chiano took. So long as Liavek and Tichen are rivals, we will be your opponents, but we will not use Chiano's knowledge against you."

The Magician nodded. "Thank you. What of the three who attacked us?"

"I will take them to Tichen, where they will have a choice. They will each bind their luck forever into a thing of my choosing, and they will accept a magical compulsion to never tell what they know of you. If they do not, I shall transform them into beads again and throw those beads into the ocean."

"I see."

Rusty said, "You both seem rather trusting, for enemies."

All the magicians in the room stared at him and he said, "Urn, I mean—"

Trav said, "Please. Rivals."

Bejing Ki laughed. "You are not a magician, Lieutenant Jassil. You wonder what honor is among magicians? I will tell you this. We may have too much power for any human to wield. Even young Chiba could, with time and great effort, call tidal waves or hurricanes. There are not many in the world of our power, but there are enough. If wizards did not accept constraints, a war of magicians could destroy the world. You understand?"

Rusty nodded slowly.

"I can think of no proper reward for your part in this, Lieutenant Jassil," the old woman said. "But gold is usually appreciated." She drew a purse from the pocket of her robe and gave it to him. "As for your adopted sister, you may tell your parents that Bejing Ki will sponsor her at any of Tichen's universities, when she is of age."

"Thank you." The explanation seemed to be at an end, so Rusty stood and took Sessi's hand. "I don't think we deserve your gifts, or if we do, it's only because I was too stupid to stay in on my birthday, but—"

"Your birthday?" The Magician said.

"Yes. Every fourth of Fruit. Thank the Twin Forces the next is a year away."

''Today is the third."

Rusty stared. "But all the coincidences!" He hesitated, then said, "The secret that these people learned was that today is your birthday."

The Magician nodded.

"I won't tell anyone."

"I know."

"Then I was affected by your luck, not my own? That's incred—"

"No," said Gogo. "I can still feel birth luck in this room, and Trav's birth hours have ended."

Rusty looked at every face in the room.

Sessi smiled shyly. "Do I get a present?"