Eryk
yanked Maggis up out of the mud and shoved the old beggar through the doorway in
the base of the East Tower. Derry
followed them into the tower's old guardroom, which he had made into his
workshop.
He lit a lantern, revealing Maggis' form
huddled under the worktable. In the
lamplight, Eryk's eye burned red with anger.
The warrior brought his fingers to his lips and blew a shrill whistle.
Hunter was down the stairs almost
immediately. Eryk made an almost
imperceptible gesture with his hand, and Hunter suddenly became alert, coiled,
tense. The hound sniffed at Maggis,
then growled low, baring his long sharp fangs.
He crept over to Maggis.
Derry was amazed at the transformation in
the hound. He couldn't believe that
this was the same dog he had allowed to guard the children earlier that night.
Hunter barked sharply at Maggis' face.
The derelict put up his arms to cover his face.
"Get him away," he wheezed.
"I can help you."
"I very much doubt that," said
Eryk. Still, he motioned for Hunter
to back off. "Now, what is your business with Master Brandystout, and
what do you know of the name Graymantle?"
"Nothing, good master!" whined
Maggis. "Leastways, nothing I
would tell anyone. Poor Maggis won't tell nobody."
"Won't tell what?" asked Derry.
He was completely at a loss here, and was time he found out a few things.
"Why all this interest in Fosco? And
what is all this about an Eye?"
Maggis' glance darted from Derry to the
open window ledge where Moonbeam perched. "The
owl knows," he whispered. "I
said it before. I should have nosed
it out earlier. The Graymantles was
always owlfriends, filthy owlfriends."
"That's enough of that," Eryk
snapped. "Who sent you?
Stromvech?"
"Stromvech is a fool!" he spat.
Then his voice dropped to a hoarse whisper, like the scratch of leaves on
a gravel road. "He sent
me," he cooed. "He's
searching for the Eye, and I am not his only spy."
He looked up haughtily through yellow eyes. "But I'm his best."
"You brought those undead
hounds?" Derry's eyes widened.
"But you're no more than a derelict and a drunk.
You live in the streets and beg for drink."
"Fooled you did I, Master Derry?
Master Common Sense Derry! Not
everyone who looks like a drunk really is, you know--and not every drunk looks
like one, as you well know."
"I'll kill you!" shouted Derry.
He snatched a hammer off the wall and raised it high, but then Eryk was
there holding him back
"Derry, wait!"
Eryk wrested the hammer away from him.
"Time for justice in due time, in its proper place.
I know how you feel. I could
run him through right now. But
there is more to learn first." Derry
ran a hand through his think hair and nodded slowly.
Eryk turned back to Maggis.
"No more games. Did you
send for the nakrim?"
The fool laughed hysterically.
"I didn't have to send for them--they could smell it themselves!
I just...focused their pursuit."
"But how did you find it?"
"I have a nose like no other.
Can't you smell it? He used
it tonight, you know." Maggis
showed his cracked, yellow teeth and giggled.
"He's been using it for over a month now."
"Indeed." Eryk glanced at
Moonbeam, but the owl sat motionless in the window.
"And where were you supposed to take it once you stole it?"
Maggis showed his toothy grin again.
"Just like that? Tell
you where the master is? No, I do
not think so." And he
retreated further under the worktable.
Eryk's eye blinked.
"No?"
Derry offered the hammer to Eryk.
"No thank you," said Eryk
through clenched teeth. His fingers twitched above the hilt of Ösbrand.
Suddenly the sword was in one hand while with the other he plucked Maggis
off the ground like a weed. "Would
you like to try another answer?" he growled.
Before Maggis could respond, Elias was
there, moving confidently down the stairs.
"Eryk, be calm. I
already know the answer to that question."
Derry was again surprised, this time at
the change in Elias. The old man stood upright and moved as if he had eyes.
He carried his staff not as a crutch but as a scepter, it seemed to
Derry.
"I doubt there is much that this
creature can tell us that we do not already know."
"Oh ho, you know so much, do you
Blind One? I know who you are, yes
I do." Maggis grinned again
through his rotting teeth. He
caught another spider and ate it. "I've
been to the Master, know his mind. I
can tell you much."
"Why should you tell us anything of
worth," asked Eryk. "And
why should we trust you?"
"To see the Eye!"
He licked his lips and widened his nostrils.
"Let me smell its fragrance. Can't
you understand this? The owl can
smell it, the hound can smell it--the power and the knowledge."
"Power and knowledge have no
smell," said Derry to Elias. "This
man is mad."
Maggis laughed hysterically and Derry
motioned at him to emphasize his point.
But Elias did not agree.
"Derry, there is much that you do not know--that you should not wish
to know. But I will tell you this:
power and knowledge do have a smell, where they have been trapped and bent into
magic form, and when one has the right nose for it."
"The nose for it, yes!" Maggis
giggled. "I have the best nose
for it, I do, just ask the Master."
Eryk spoke up.
"Look Elias, we can't waste time discussing this wretch.
What have you discovered?"
Elias motioned him to the doorway where
the two of them went off by themselves, leaving Derry to stand guard over Maggis.
The man smelled of sewer and smoke.
If his nose was so good, thought Derry, then why could he not smell his
own filth?
"I've been watching him for months
now, I have," Maggis whispered, almost to himself.
His voice was high, like a strung bow.
"I smelt it the first time he used it, way across the channel, and I
knew what it was." He didn't
even seem to realize that Derry was there, and his thoughts continued to flow
out of him. "He trained me
well, he did. Taught me to sniff
out the power, to love it and want it and find it.
And I did--it was me, old Maggis Loamdigger, and no one can say it
wasn't." He held his arms
close to his shoulders and rocked gently back and forth.
He looked up at Derry.
"He's coming, you know, coming for
the Eye. You can't stop him, you
can't hide from him." Derry
shivered in spite of himself.
"That's enough, dog," said Eryk.
He and Elias had come back. Eryk
turned to the old man and said, "I'll set off then.
We should be back just after dawn. Look
for us off the coast." Elias
nodded as Eryk and Hunter glided out the tower door.
Derry started to speak but Elias held up
his hand. "Do not ask me
anything yet," he sighed. "First
I must deal with this--thing." He
approached Maggis.
His eyeless face bored into Maggis and a
wind suddenly came in from the courtyard. "Who
sent you?" When he spoke his
voice seemed to roar like the wind. "Who
sent you?" he asked again.
Maggis cowered even further into the
corner.
"No, master, please--"
"Bah, what a cesspool of a
mind," Elias said. He steeled
himself and turned once more to the pathetic form in the corner.
Maggis stopped rocking under Elias' attention and became softly still.
Derry watched, enthralled.
Maggis began to sweat, as if from an unseen pressure.
Elias' face tightened in concentration, then suddenly it was over.
Maggis collapsed, breathing heavily, and
Derry was shocked to see Elias' eye sockets widen in fear.
"What?" he asked the old man.
"Not now," said Elias in a
whisper. "I cannot say, now.
I must think on this. Watch
him, Derry." And he walked
wearily out into the night. Moonbeam
flew out after him.
Almost without thinking, Derry walked over
to a broken wagon against the wall of the tower.
He had to do something to calm himself down.
Mending the wagon might help. He
picked up the plane and began to carve into the wagon.
As he worked, Maggis coughed and wheezed
in the corner.
Derry's mind worked as quickly as his
hands. He always thought better
while he was working. Plainly
strange forces were at work here. Derry was nothing if not practical--how else could he have
run the Brandystout farm all these years? And
he could see the signs--they were leaving so the wagon needed tending.
He did not know what Elias was up to, or what was happening to Fosco, or
what was happening with the world. He
truly did not care. But he would
not leave his family's side.
It was Milly who had pulled him back from
the brink when no one else believed in him, and Fosco had let her, had welcomed
him into his family. So he was
going with them.
Not that Fosco could see it, of course.
The man was just not good at picking up on things like that. But it was clear to Derry.
Derry had become a simple, accepting man,
long-used to going with the flow. One
didn't last long in the world without being flexible.
Besides, he had once seen a king's magician take a man's head off at a
hundred paces. He didn't think
there was much that could surprise him.
But Maggis proved him wrong when he jumped
him from behind, knocked him on the head, and ran out into the night.