his cousins, for where there should have been beaks
he saw only hungry, razor-sharp, strangely curved
fangs.
THE MOMENT OF THB MAOICIAW
29
No matter how he strained he couldn't outdistance
them, and they closed the space between with terrify-
ing ease. Hoping to lose them in the trees, he dove
for the crowns of the forest. They followed easily,
closing ground still more when he reemerged from
the branches. He dipped and rolled and dodged,
employing every maneuver he could remember, some-
times vanishing among the foliage, sometimes dou-
bling sharply back on his route before rising again to
check the sky. And the demons stayed with him,
inexorable in their pursuit, malign in their purpose.
For Pandro they meant only death.
One veered just a little too near the mass of a giant
tocoro tree and smashed into the bark. Glancing
backward, Pandro was relieved to see it fall, spinning
and tumbling and broken, to smash into the ground
below. There was still hope, then. Demonic visitors
his tormentors might be, but they were neither invul-
nerable nor immortal. They could be killed.
Six of them had fallen on him. Now there were
five left. But he couldn't continue the battle at this
speed. All the diving and dodging among the trees
was wasting his strength at a much faster rate than
mere flying. Yet having tried to outrun them and
failed, he didn't have much choice. He had to keep
to the woods-
One of his pursuers swooped around the bole of a
forest giant, only to find itself caught in the grasp of
a huge, carnivorous flying lizard. Blood spurted as
the two combatants tumbled groundward, unable to
disengage. The lizard was stunned by the ferocity of
the much smaller creature it had caught, while for its
part the demon was unable to break free from sharp
talons. They struck the earth together.
Four left, Pandro thought wildly. His heart was
pounding against his chest feathers and his wing
muscles ached. One of the demons was right on top
Aim Dean Foster
30
of him, and he had to fold his wings and drop like a
stone, plummeting desperately toward the ground
only to roll out at the last second. Even so, curved
fangs slashed at his left wing in passing, sending
black feathers flying.
He checked the injury as he climbed cloudward.
The wound was superficial, but it had been a near
thing. Too near. And his assailants seemed as fresh
and untired as when they'd First attacked. He had to
do something drastic, and soon. He couldn't keep
dodging them forever.
Once more he drew his wings in close to his body
and fell earthward. As though of the same mind, the
four demons followed in unison, screaming at him.
Again he rolled up and over before crashing, but
this time he landed behind a chosen tree. His pursu-
ers split and came at him from two sides. The first
one went over his head, the second missed him on
the right. The third went straight for his throat and
crumpled itself against the tree, teeth flying in all
directions as the head shattered. The fourth turned
away to reconsider -
Pandro pushed air as he flew back toward Quasequa,
hoping they wouldn't see him and intending to make
a wide curve back northward once he'd lost them.
Looking back over his shoulder he spotted two of
them skimming low over the treetops, hunting him
in the opposite direction.
But where was the third surviving demon?
He turned just in time to duck, but the teeth bit
deeply into his neck and back, barely missing his
face. Blood flew with his feathers. The clouds began
to swim in front of his eyes, blotting out all the blue
sky. He felt himself falling toward a green grave.
Good-bye, Asenva of the saucy tail, he thought.
Good-bye fledglings. Good-bye worried wizard, may
THE MOMENT OF TBE MAGICIAN 31
your skin never be dry. I tried my best. But you
didn't tell me I would have to fight demons.
The first tree reached up to catch him. He hit
hard.
faces of Kindore and Vazvek when the demons
returned. The two members of the Quorum made
protective signs in front of their faces and all but hid
beneath the master's cape. Markus let them quake in
terror for a few minutes before assuring them they
were in no danger and that the faceless fliers were
his servants. Even so, Vazvek did not emerge from
behind the magician until the demons had settled
one at a time into waiting wall alcoves.
As soon as he was sure they had fallen asleep,
Prugg approached them. He did not want to show
fear in front of the Quorumen, but he feared the
master's magic nonetheless.
"Go on, Prugg," said Markus helpfully. "They won't
hurt you. They won't move unless I command them."
Prugg studied the trio. True to the master's word,
they ignored him. They were not very big, especially
for demons, but those curved fangs were very
impressive. Prugg ran a finger over one and still its
owner did not stir.
"Only three of them," Markus murmured- "I won-
der what happened to the other three." He shrugged.
"Doesn't matter. I can always call up more." He
tteraed to face his supporters.
"What do you think, Kindore? Should I bring
dievq back to life and have them dance in the air for
you?"
"No, oo, no, advisor," said a badly shaken Kindore.
He pulled at his thin coat, working to refasten the
buttons which had come loose as he'd scrambled to
32 Alan Dean Foster
avoid the demons. "I have never seen demons like
that"
"How many demons have you seen?" Markus
grinned at the squirrel. "They're harmless now. We
can resume our discussion."
This was done. When Markus's questions had all
been answered, he gave the pair his orders. Not
advice, orders. Markus the Ineluctable had already
moved beyond making suggestions, and Kindore and
Vazvek hastened to carry out his bidding. Things
were moving rapidly now, and the master was pleased.
He dismissed them, watched with amusement as
they retreated quickly, and then walked over to in-
spect his now-silent aerial servants.
"Only three." He rubbed a forefinger across his
lower lip, then gestured at the last demon in line.
"See, there's blood on this one's teeth."
"I saw. Master."
"But whose blood? Could it be demon blood?"
Prugg strained but could not come up with a quick
reply.
Markus looked pained. "You're slow, Prugg, you
know that? Real slow."
"Forgive me, Master. 1 know that I am stupid. But
I try.
"
"That's okay- I don't keep you around for your wit.
You may as well know that it can't be demon blood
because there is no blood in any of these creatures,
Just as there is no life in them. They only live at my
command. They're not sleeping, Prugg. They're dead.
Until I choose to give them life again. Therefore it
stands to reason, doesn't it, that this is the blood of
the black messenger?"
"Yes, that must be so," agreed Prugg. "Yes, the
black flier must be down, along with whatever mes-
sages he carried from that slimy bad loser, Opiode."
THE MOMENT or THE MAOICIAN 33
prugg looked pleased. "Can I tell the old wizard his
^'Servant has been killed?"
^ "No, Prugg, you cannot. Nor will I tell him. Let
faun squat in his bath believing his messages are
going to be received. Let him think his trusted
messenger ran out on him. Let him stew those possi-
bilities over for a while. It will keep him out of our
hair for now." He smited thinly. "I have a lot to do
^and I don't want to have to waste time worrying
^about the salamander."
•^•~r
f-
^ "What's wrong with him?"
Pandro heard the words faintly through the black
^haze that was the inside of his head. There was a
Hflaoment during which he thought the words might've
^fceen part of a dream, a bad dream he'd been having.
1'Then more words, different, a little more intelligible
^Cthis time.
"How the hell should I know? Do I look like a
^ohysician?"
H • "You always did look like something escaped from
||a hospital," countered the first voice. "One where
j|they treat mental problems."
j- "Shut up, you two. I think he's coming around,"
^commanded still a third voice.
^ The voices went away again- It occurred to Pandro
$fhat perhaps they might be waiting for some kind of
^response from him-
^- "I... can hear you okay, but I can't see you. I'm
||»lmd"
^l' "He's blind," said one voice, not in the least
f Sympathetic.
^ "Have you tried," said the third voice, a little more
rntly, "opening your eyes?"
Pandro mulled this over. "Why, no. I haven't."
|»"Try," the voice urged him.
H Pandro blinked, discovered he was lying on a crude
34 Alan Dean Foster
platform built between two branches high above the
forest floor. The foliage around him was swarming
with the graceful, swift shapes of fellow fliers. They
had one thing in common: every one of them was
considerably smaller than he was. None stood more
than a foot high.
Two of the three who were staring down at him
wore blue-and-black kilts with bright chartreuse vests,
while the third was clad in a kilt of white and yellow
with a pink vest. This attire was subdued compared
to their natural coloration, which was brilliant and
metallic.
At first he had a hard time telling them apart.
They hardly ever stopped moving, darting in front
of him, behind, making erratic loops around the
branches, arguing constantly with each other, and
occasionally flitting overhead to sip from one of the
huge tropical blossoms that burst forth from the
tree.
Shoving backward with his wingtips, Pandro sat
up, winced in pain- His wing came away from the
back of his neck unbloodied, however. If he hadn*t
turned at the last instant, the demon would have bit
him in the face. The image that produced in his
mind made him queasy all over again.
"Where are you from?... What are you doing
here?... Who are you?... Why the neck chain... ?"
The trio threw one question after another at him
and didn't wait for replies- One of them was tapping
him on the shoulder as it spoke.
"Take it easy," Pandro pleaded. A quick inspection
revealed that the surrounding trees were filled with
tiny homes and traditional covered nests. "My turn
first- Where did you find me?"
One of the querulous hummingbirds drifted in
front of Pandro, fanning his face with wings that
were sensed rather than seen- It nodded to its right.
THE MOMENT or TAB MAOJCUW 35
*You came down over there." Crimson flashed
^beneath its bill. "Busting branches all the way down.
^.Wonder is that you didn't bust your skull."
"Some others tried to,"
"Oh ho!" said another, whose throat was blue as
an alpine tarn. "A fight! If it's a fight they're looking
-for..." He curled the tips of both wings into fists and
glared belligerently at the sky, looking for someone
^Co sock.
" "Watch your blood pressure. Spin," said the third
? bird. He was slightly less hyperkinetic than his
; companions.
"Watch your rear." The bird dove on him, and the
'ithree of them went round and round in the air,
iJabbing with feet, wings, and beaks. When they fmal-
^ly separated, Pandro saw that no harm had been
H-done. None of them was even breathing hard. Two
^ buzzed upward for a sugary drink while the third
;' regarded the injured visitor sorrowfully.
.^ "That's the trouble these days. Nobody knows how
^.to have a good fight anymore."
("I know civilization's in a bad way." Pandro agreed
dryly, "but it's going to be worse if I don't carry out
U wy mission."
^ "Hot damn, a mission!" He danced all around
JrfPandro as the raven stood and tested his wings.
^ Emeralds flashed on his tiny chest.
,, Except for a few missing feathers and the naked
^-•Icar that ran from the back of his neck downward,
^randro seemed to be intact.
; "Yes, a mission for the wizard Opiode, former
}-®hief advisor to the Quorum of Quasequa."
tit "Never go into Quasequa," declared the humming"
>ird, shaking its head and forcing Pandro to duck
°ack to avoid the swinging bill. "Nothing going on
lere. Talk about dull."
, "Cousin, to your kind, everything is dull. Are the
36 Alan Dean Foster
rest of us responsible if you happen to live at a speed
twenty times faster than anyone else's?"
"No, you're not," said the one called Spin. "You
can't help it if you're slow and boring. The whole
rest of the world is slow and boring."
"It's liable to get exciting real soon," said Pandro
grimly. "Some weird human's taken over as chief
advisor in Quasequa. This Opiode's worried about
what he might do. The newcomer's a powerful
magician, and Opiode doesn't seem to think much of
his plans." He had a sudden horrible thought, and a
wingtip went to his chest. When he clutched the vial
containing the messages, he relaxed. The demons
had ripped off his backpack, but they'd missed the
chain and vial hanging around his neck. A good
thing he'd taken care
to put the messages there for
safekeeping.
He eyed the sky. "1 guess they think they got me."
"Who thinks they got you?" asked Oun, the second
hummingbird.
"The demons. They must've been sent after me by
Markus the Ineluctable, that new advisor I just told
you about. Opiode warned me to watch out, but
there wasn't anything I could do. They were just too
fast for me"
"Demons, wow!" said Spin. "About time we had a
decent scrap." He turned to his two companions. "I'll
go find Wix and the rest of the gang and we'll—!"
"Hold on a minute," said Pandro. The humming-
bird pivoted in midair. "You don't want to go looking
for these things."
"We're not afraid of anything that flies"
"I'm sure you're not, but these were different." He
shuddered, remembering that cold, barren contact
on the back of his neck. He made a chopping motion
with one wing. "And they've got teeth, not just bills.
They'll take you apart."
THS MOMENT OF THE MAGICIAN 37
"Condor crap!" snapped the second hummingbird,
^darting through the air and striking out with lefts
1 and rights at imaginary opponents. "We'll pull their
wings off! We'll—!"
"Do nothing of the kind," said the spokesman for
the trio, "because there aren't any demons around."
Oun's crimson chest feathers flashed. "There aren't?"
^ "Seen any demons lurking about? Either of you?"
is; "Well, no." Both looked abashed and finally land-
Is ed on the platform. "Not actually." Spin lifted slightly.
|l "But if Pandro here could lead us to them..."
t The raven shook his head violently. "Thanks, but
; I've got a job to do. Anyway, if they were still looking
',,-for me, I'm sure you would've seen them by now.
They brought me down, but they didn't kill me." He
flexed long black wings and rose from the platform.
No damage to the vital shoulder muscles. Consider-
ing that he'd recently missed death by inches, he felt
pretty good.
"Listen, thanks for your help, but I'd better be on
my way. I'm beginning to share some of that
Salamander's concern about what's happening in the
world."
"Phooey," muttered Spin, "who cares what some
^-old wizard thinks?"
"Some might," said the third flier thoughtfully. He
Stared at Pandro. "Fly high, cousin, and don't look
back."
"Don't worry." Pandro rose skyward. "And while
I'm gone, consider this: Opiode the Sly believes that
^ihis new wizard may have evil designs that extend