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tonight ... would you gentlemen care to view tonight's Pit action from the
best seats in the house, high above the stadium? As friends of Tordun, the
White ... of Master Tordun, that is, you'd all be honoured guests and be able
to watch the fights in comfort. No queuing, no payment expected. It's my
treat, gentlemen."
Grimm's heart leapt at the offer, but he could not ignore a sharp pang of
conscience that jabbed his heart. His intention had been to leave Mansion
House as soon as he had talked to Mr. Chudel, and he cast an anxious look at
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Quelgrum.
"What do you think, General? Should we stay another night, or leave today?
Although he took care to keep his tone neutral and serious, as if he felt
equally happy with either option, he found himself hoping that Quelgrum would
vote for the latter. He did not want to be the one to make this choice.
Quelgrum shrugged.  What difference will a few hours more make? I vote we stay
tonight, and start out fresh in the morning."
To Grimm's immense relief, the other members of the team chimed in with an
enthusiastic, almost school-boyish chorus of approval.  That seems unanimous,
he said, relieved to be freed of the real decision to stay.  Who am I to
argue? We can afford to stay one more night after all, Mr. Chudel hasn't
arrived yet."
"Excellent! Keller said, rising to his feet.  Well, Tordun, the fighters have
a busy schedule ahead of them. Wouldn't you prefer to come down to the gym
while they're still loosening up for their main exercises?"
Tordun levered himself out of his chair.  That sounds good to me, he
declared.  I'll see you later, gentlemen."
"What do we do for the rest of the day? Guy asked, smoothing his hair back
over his pate.  Shall we go for a walk outside? The grounds seem magnificent."
"Better not, Grimm said, clinging on to the shreds of his sense of duty.
 We'd better hang around until this Chudel person comes back; he's got to be a
busy man, and he may be difficult to contact once he's stuck into his duties.
Besides, it's pleasant enough here, isn't it? Nobody else here seems to want
to go outside."
"Well, I suppose so, Guy sighed, although Grimm could see that his expression
was far from downcast.  Still, I had hoped to make a little more of this
holiday than this."
"It's not a holiday, Numal said, with a rather pompous, pious expression on
his face.  It's a Quest."
Guy opened his mouth to speak, but Grimm interrupted him.  Numal's right, Guy;
perhaps we can come back here afterwards and really enjoy ourselves, but we're
not on our own time at the moment."
Grimm half-expected an argument from the older Questor, but none came.
"I can't argue with that, Dragonblaster. Can't be helped, I suppose."
"That's right, Guy. It can't be helped, Quelgrum said.
Why do we all keep coming back to that phrase? Grimm wondered.
The words seemed almost like a devotional response; a mantra, a coda, a
password. They reminded the young Questor of a resonance in a spell, where a
mage became trapped in an incantation from which he could not escape; a single
thought, chant or intent echoing in his head with ever-increasing intensity.
Nonetheless, he knew that no magic was acting upon him, and that no poisons or
drugs were in his system. He took a deep breath of the gently perfumed air and
smiled.
We're just so relaxed and cheerful that we're lapsing into easy clichés, he
told himself. There's no need to read some sinister bloody influence into
every situation, Afelnor. We're not drugged or hexed; we're just happy!
"The bar's right next to the reception area, Crest said, beaming.  What do
you say to the idea of an early morning drink?"
"Have you seen the prices here, elf-boy? Harvel said.  At those rates, we'll
be bankrupt before the morning's out!"
Grimm felt the gentle, tickling burn of nascent tears at his eyelids. These
were such simple people; such honest people; such decent people! He would feel
like a churl to spurn such sterling company.
"Don't worry, friends; I'll pay! he said, burning with bonhomie and good
humour.  Let's make the most of our time here while we have it!"
"It's a shame Tordun's not with us, Numal said, and Grimm shrugged.
"Can't be helped, he said, and then clapped a hand over his mouth as if he
had committed some solecism.
Quelgrum started the laughter, quickly joined by Harvel and Guy. Crest sat for
a few moments, his face reddening, and then burst into tearful guffaws, after
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which Numal exploded into a bloated, teary, puce-faced tirade of glee.
"Did I say something wrong? Grimm felt more than happy to play along with the
humorous melee.  Oh, well, I suppose it can't be helped."
He tried to keep his face placid and open, but he could not resist the itch
any longer. He laughed, over and over again, until hot tears burned their way
down his aching cheeks, the sensation intensified by the sound of booming
laughter from guests at other tables, who could not even have heard what had
caused this merriment.
Could any place be better than this? he wondered. As he eyed the hysterical
groups of people sitting around the restaurant, he knew the answer. All of
these people were good, worthy souls, with whom he felt an unaccustomed spirit
of community.
He rose to his feet.  The drinks are on me, everybody! he shouted, his heart
almost bursting with fullness.  All day!"
The raucous chorus of appreciative cheers that greeted this announcement
filled Grimm's heart. The shade of Magemaster Crohn seemed to hover over him,
wagging a censorious finger, but he dismissed the vision with a single effort
of will. He felt determined to savour his momentary popularity to the full.
"Drink! Drink! Drink! he shouted, dancing like a pagan festival spirit.  It's
all on me!"
* * * *
Thribble, sitting in the Questor's pocket, felt a horrified stab of lightning
run through him at his human friend's bizarre and uncharacteristic behaviour.
Despite Grimm's protestations, he knew that the mage must be possessed by some
sort of compulsion. This was not the young mortal he had come to know and
respect. While all around him guffawed and cackled, the demon slid to the
ground, using Grimm's robe as a break-fall. This man, Keller, seemed to be a
dangerous influence, and the imp decided to follow the Pit-master as he walked [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]