Songs of the Dying Earth. Gardner Dozois

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СКАЧАТЬ The winner goes free, of course. The Copsy Door will open to him alone. The others will stay and add their fine energies to Dessinga to help maintain this golden place.”

      “I must cry foul!” Sarimance said. “There is an unforgivable bias. Our friend Amberlin here is the namesake of two of the judges. They will surely be predisposed. I suggest the contest be abandoned until two new judges can be appointed. Tralques, Amberlin, and I will return, say, a year from now to see if—”

      Eunepheos raised a hand. “Sarimance, listen well. You cannot imagine what shame, scorn and disgust our noble Silver Adepts here would normally feel because a sorry pretender persists in bearing their name. You see no latter-day Phandaals, do you? No surfeit of Llorios, no glut of Dibarcas Maiors? Who would dare? Who would risk the possibility of reprisal? But the leader of your fearless expedition has been bold enough to take the name of his betters without regret or contrition. No doubt he will say it is to honor his ancestors rather than simply out of pride and hubris, or because his parents were careless. So be it. We will soon see, one way or the other. But if there is a bias, then surely it is in your favor, not his. So let the contest proceed! Tralques, you look so dignified in your fine blue robe, you will go first, then you, Sarimance, then your expedition leader, Amberlin.”

      Without further hesitation, Tralques strode purposefully out into the hall, spun about and gestured magnificently.

      “Great Eunepheos, illustrious judges, respectful spectators and brother wizards, I greet you and present for your diversion and edification the Wholly Self-Made Mankin!”

      There was a moment’s hesitation, then a floating head appeared in the hall before them, its broad moon-face grinning amiably, peering this way and that, regarding its surroundings with what could only be happiness and wonder. For twenty seconds it regarded the dais, the three shimmering remembrance cases, the wizards, and the assembled underlings, then, from below the chin, a body formed, legs extending down till the creature stood on the floor at last.

      No sooner had the feet settled than the head sprouted antlers, each tine tipped with a glowing red bulb. The apparition glanced up in wonder as more nodules formed along the tines, each one swelling till it fell away like ripe fruit and was caught by the creature, who immediately began juggling them. The hands were soon lost in a blur as ten, twenty, soon hundreds of the colored orbs went soaring into the air. In a final flourish, the orbs were all sent aloft together, first to transform into gorgeously plumed songbirds that gave a single plangent cry, then to explode in a cascade of dazzling colors.

      When the dazzle subsided, the head, body and accessories were nowhere to be seen. Tralques stood alone, bowing before Eunepheos and the judges.

      Eunepheos, Sarimance and Amberlin applauded with gusto. The underlings, however, stood rapt in silent attention as if not sure how to act. The three radiant cases stood without comment.

      “Splendid, Tralques!” Sarimance cried. “It is nice to see that old routine done so briskly.”

      “Splendid indeed,” Eunepheos said. “Most impressive, Tralques Iron Star. Sarimance, to the floor if you will!”

      Sarimance strode forth like a blood-red demon of yore, staff flashing with its brilliant white tip. He too spun about in fine style, arms flung wide as if for applause, though none was yet forthcoming. Sarimance, Amberlin observed, clearly valued the niceties of showmanship as much as he did.

      “Great Eunepheos, mighty Remembrances, colleagues and friends, I bring you the Penultimate Callestine Redoubt, as first performed in far-off Sarmatica before the Nine.”

      Waves of bright blue light, like mighty ocean swells, rushed through the arches at the sides of the hall and began clashing and heaving against one another in the middle of the vast space. Gulls cried. The smell of brine filled the air. Then, emerging from the toss of spray and luminous foam, came a galleas in full sail, its oars striking the waves, complete with flags snapping in a strong head-wind and mariners calling.

      While the wizards watched, the ship began to swing about in the beginnings of a terrible maelstrom, turning faster and faster until, at last, it sank beneath the ethereal waves and was lost. But even as those waves closed over the hapless craft, a great tower lifted from where it had been, a lighthouse looming up out of the swells to stand strong and unassailable, its tapered length striped with the heraldic colors of Grand Motholam, its great beacon pulsing out across the angry seas.

      Then it was gone: lighthouse, wind and waves, and the silence in the hall was in itself spectacular after all that had been.

      “I have never seen the Redoubt done better,” Eunepheos confessed. “Sarimance, you are undoubtedly a master of the first rank. I dare not try to guess what you will give us for your final offering.”

      “I thank you, great lord,” the Red Wizard replied, and returned to the others.

      “Now you, noble Amberlin,” Eunepheos said. “The one with the skill and courage to defeat my Copsy Door, who judged intrusion into Dessinga worth all risk and danger and even now welcomes all consequences. Your first offering please.”

      Amberlin stepped forth, feigning a confidence he did not feel. He did a magnificent spin-about and flourish with his staff that, he liked to think, surely had the plymays, heridinks, and holimores wide-eyed with amazement, if such a concept had any purchase in those antic minds.

      But what could he try? What might he invoke that the Inflect would not ruin? Dare he attempt the Absolute Cardantian Triflex? The intonations were clear, the words mostly monosyllables. But he dared not hesitate. Even as he began speaking the words, he resolved to show no consternation at the result. Whatever happened was to be treated as exactly what was intended.

      He concluded the pronouncement and gestured magnificently.

      Twenty-six chickens sat on a large Alazeen rug, blinking and pecking at bits of dust in the weave.

      There was silence in the hall except for some idle clucking. Some in the audience of adepts and underlings may have thought to admire the wonderful patterns in the old rug, others the interesting fact that every third chicken was either cross-eyed or had but a single eye. Certainly there was much to ponder on.

      Amberlin himself was dumbfounded by the sheer bathos of the result, but made himself smile as if at some subtlety no-one else could see. He then chuckled and, as a desperate but possibly ingenious improvisation, wagged a finger at the nearest chicken as if in reproach at some inappropriate, possibly scurrilous, remark it had just now made. The chicken blinked its single eye and went back to picking at dust-mites in the rug.

      Forty-two seconds from the moment of their appearance, both rug and chickens vanished in an equally anticlimactic pop, and the room was as before. Amberlin strode as decisively as he could back to his place before the dais.

      “Most unexpected!” Eunepheos said. “Either there are subtleties here only the most refined sensibilities can discern or you are so confident of your final performance that you are trifling with us and saving your best till last.”

      “Though it was a very fine rug,” Tralques admitted, clearly nonplussed by the whole thing.

      “And most singular chickens,” Sarimance remarked, barely able to contain his amusement.

      “Indeed,” said Eunepheos. “And contrast always has its place. But let us continue. Tralques, to the floor!”

      “Great lord,” Tralques temporized. “Would not some small СКАЧАТЬ