Songs of the Dying Earth. Gardner Dozois

decline both.”

      “As you think best,” Vespanus said gravely.

      “I wonder if I may beg of you a favor,” said Amay. “Could you take one of those bronze nymphs from the shelf yonder and give this bowl a sharp rap?”

      “To what end?”

      “Is it not obvious? I desire to be liberated.”

      “I find that possibility problematical.” Carefully he regarded her. “Were you at liberty, you would attempt to install yourself as the ruler of Abrizonde, and as I have just declared myself the new Protostrator, we would find ourselves in immediate conflict.”

      Amay received this news with surprise. Her miniature face contorted as she considered her response.

      “On the contrary,” she said. “I would be your help, support, and guide. You will need my aid to find your feet as the new lord of the Cleft.”

      “I propose to err on the side of caution,” Vespanus said, and as Amay took in a breath to begin reviling him in the same terms with which she had abused her husband, Vespanus held up a hand.

      “The late lord Ambius spoke to me of his isolation here, of the absence of polite society and the arts. One might conclude he regretted his decision to make himself the lord.”

      “Don’t you believe it,” Amay said. “His ambition was great.”

      “And my ambition is not,” said Vespanus. “While I desire material comfort, I have no inclination to hold an isolated fortress in an empty country for all the years of my youth, nor to battle the armies of entire nations.”

      “In that case,” said Amay, “you should liberate me to become the new ruler, and trust me to reward you amply for your service.”

      “I have a somewhat different plan,” Vespanus said. “I shall remain the lord but for a single season, and skim the profits of the bargemen and merchants of the Dimwer. After which, I shall become a mere student once more, and carry myself and my gains away on a hired barge. Once I have gone a safe distance, you will be liberated by one of the soldiers acting on my orders, and immediately take your place as the greatest lady in the history of Abrizonde.”

      Amay, blinking, contemplated this for a moment.

      “I believe that is fair,” she judged, “much though I mislike remaining in this bottle for any length of time whatever.”

      Vespanus bowed at her politely. “What is unfair,” he said, “is that I must pay the soldiers, and hire the summer force, without the means to do so. Therefore I must have access to the late lord’s strong rooms—and as in the course of our acquaintance I noted the Protostrator’s suspicious mind, and his cunning facility with traps that has just cost me the sleeve of my robe, I assume that the strong rooms are protected. I apply to you, therefore, for any knowledge you may have concerning these traps, and how to disarm them.”

      Amay’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

      “Surely you may pay the soldiers with money extracted from tolls.”

      “The late war may cause a bad season for commerce on the Dimwer, and, in that event, I would be left with nothing. And in any case, I wish to offer the current garrison a bonus for their brave defense.”

      “The money in those rooms should be mine!” Amay said. “I have earned it, with six long years as a puppet in this little globe!”

      “Consider the many years you will remain here in Abrizonde,” said Vespanus. “The endless flow of money and commerce up and down the Dimwer, and the great fortune that you can build for yourself. Whereas I will have to live for the rest of my life only on such money as I can carry away.”

      “You shall never have my money! Never!” And then Amay, shaking her fist, began to berate Vespanus in much the same style with which she had earlier addressed her husband.

      “Ah well,” said Vespanus. “Perhaps it will not be necessary to liberate you after all.”

      He took from the shelf the vial that he had seen Ambius employ, and opened the stopper to pour a single drop into the neck of the crystal bottle. Spluttering a few last curses, Amay immediately fell into profound slumber.

      When she awoke, she found herself reclining on a coverlet of pale samite, and cradled in a bed of carved ebony. The room was small but exquisitely appointed, with many mirrors, furniture inlaid with mother-of-pearl, and carpets of intricate design and brilliant hue.

      She gave a start of surprise, and sat up. Facing her, languid on a settee, was the figure of Vespanus of Roë.

      “This is my room!” said Amay.

      “Your late husband preserved it much as you left it,” said her interlocutor. “If you like, you may consider it evidence of some lingering fondness on his part.”

      “Or lack of imagination!” said Amay. She glanced over the room. “I seem to have been set at liberty.”

      The figure of Vespanus bowed gravely. “I reconsidered my earlier position. The garrison, drunk with victory, is ill-inclined to obey my orders, twk-men bring news that the army of the Exarch seems prepared to renew the contest, and under the circumstances I begin to find the watery meads of Pex strangely attractive.” He rose.

      “I have taken passage on the first barge of the season,” he said, “and I have also taken the liberty of placing upon it exactly half the contents of the late Protostrator’s strong rooms, which I hope you will agree is fair. I tarry but for any messages you may wish me to carry, and for any sums that you may wish to entrust to me for the purpose of hiring soldiers to augment your garrison.”

      Amay swung her legs from the bed and rose, a little carefully, to her feet.

      “Half?” she said. “You have taken half?”

      “Surely I deserve some reward for preserving your place here, and for liberating you.”

      Amay’s eyes glittered. “Some reward, yes—but half?”

      He cleared his throat. “If you have no messages for me to carry, then I shall leave you to your business.” He bowed, and in haste stepped toward the door.

      “Stay!” she called. When he hesitated, she took a firm step toward him.

      “It was bad enough,” Amay said, “that I spent six years confined in that wretched globe, deprived of honor and my sorcerous powers. It was bad enough that I was forced to endure the presence of my husband, and watch him consort with those bronze nymphs—and bad enough that I could see him adding to his fortune day by day, counting the coins and gems that he extorted from the bargemen before storing them in his strong rooms.” She glared at him, showing even white teeth. “And is it not bad enough that I am expected to endure a thief, a thief who takes half my substance and offers in recompense to carry my messages!”

      He bowed again, and put a hand to his chest.

      “Bear in mind,” he said, “that I set you free. Do I not deserve anything for this favor?”

      “Indeed you do,” Amay said. “I shall kill you now, and quickly, rather than string you by your heels from the Onyx Tower!” With a ferocious gesture, she spoke the words that called forth the Spell of Azure Curtailment.

      Nothing occurred. Amay stared into the face of Vespanus, which stared back, an expression of wide-eyed surprise on his face.

      “So you have a charm proof against that spell,” Amay said. “But nothing can stand against the Excellent Prismatic Spray!”

      Again she spoke the words of a spell, enhancing its affect with ferocious gestures. Again nothing happened, and her companion blinked at her in surprise.

      “I think we have learned enough,” said the voice of Vespanus, and Amay glanced about uneasily, for the voice had seemed