The Feline Wizard by Christopher Stasheff Read Free Book Online

else to do the dangerous stuff.”
    Sikander looked up, startled, wondering if he had been someone else's dupe. Perhaps the prince had wanted Balkis to disappear after all.
    Matt rose to go. “Well, thanks for your cooperation. I'll tell the king that you've seen the error of your ways and are trying to help.”
    Sikander gave him a sardonic smile. “What will that net for me? A quick death instead of a slow one?”
    “Well, it should save you from the torture chamber, at least— unless there's something you haven't told me?”
    “No!” Sikander declared, sitting bolt-upright.
    Matt nodded. “Nothing more to learn, no reason for torture— except simple revenge, of course, and I don't think that's Prester John's style. I'll recommend he keep you alive until we know whether to charge you with murder, or just kidnapping. With any luck, you'll still be alive to face Princess Balkis someday.” He turned thoughtful then. “Not sure that I wouldn't prefer the quick death, though … Well!” He forced a bright smile. “Let's hope for the best, shall we?”
    Then he was gone, and the cell door crashed behind him. Sikander doubled over, head in his hands, and spent half an hour wishing he had never been born.
    Corundel was more defiant but had even less to tell; likeSikander, all she knew was that the horseman had taken Balkis away. When Matt pointed out that she was under sentence of death and that the only questions were when, how, and at the hands of the royal executioner or of Balkis, Corundel caved in and told him that she had opened doors to lead Sikander to the horseman, and that the two of them watched him ride away, then went back into the palace to celebrate. She didn't say that talking to the shaman had been her idea, but she didn't say that Sikander had forced her into being his pawn, either. Matt left the jail with a scrap of respect for each of them, though it was buried under a thick pile of contempt.
    He briefly wondered why the guards hadn't noticed the horseman approach, then realized that a sorcerer who could provide the drug and the means of sending Balkis away could no doubt manage a spell of invisibility easily enough.
    Matt reported back to Prester John. “The shaman's name is Torbat,” he told him, “and his shop is in the northeastern quarter where the Radial Avenue of the Second Hour meets the Twelfth Ring Road.”
    Prester John, who sat at his desk, was impressed. “You are persuasive.”
    “Oh, I just recited a little spell before I went into each cell,” Matt told him. “I also hinted that you might give them each a quick death instead of a slow and painful one.”
    John frowned, affronted. “You made no promises in my name, I trust.”
    “No, just hinted,” Matt said, “though I did come out and say my report might influence you into keeping them alive until we could bring Balkis home.”
    “Why should I be so merciful?” John asked.
    “So you would know whether to charge them as accessories to murder or only as kidnappers,” Matt said. “Besides, if we do bring Balkis home none the worse for wear, we can just sentence them each to spend half an hour alone with her and see what happens.”
    Prester John looked surprised, then chuckled. “Yes, that would be appropriate.”
    “But for now let's concentrate on getting her back.”
    “Yes, quite so.” Prester John frowned. “How shall you search?”
    “Well, we know the shaman's name now, not just his address,” Matt said. “Sure, it's only his public name, not his private one, so I can't make him break out in boils or drop dead from a heart attack—but it should be enough to bring me to him, wherever he is.”
    Prester John gazed off into space, correlating the idea with what he knew of barbarian magic, which was substantial. Finally he nodded. “Yes, that should suffice. Let us repair to the workroom, Lord Wizard.”
    As Balkis, in the form of a cat, slept, small figures stepped forth from burrows under the roots of the