Free Magic Zero by Christopher Golden, Thomas E. Sniegoski Page A

focus upon the single threads. “ That makes me dangerous?” he asked softly.
    “More than you can possibly imagine,” Nicodemus said, gently stroking the animal on his lap. “Try to think as they do, Timothy,” he said, tapping the side of his head with the tip of a well-groomed finger. “Imagine if somebody of your unique persuasion were used as a tool—a weapon against a rival guild.”
    The boy seemed taken aback. “Me? A weapon?” he asked incredulously. “But I could never—”
    “And they would not believe you, even if you swore on the spirit of your dear, departed father,” Nicodemus said, scratching Alastor behind one of his pointed ears. “The guilds wear a mask of solidarity when Parliament meets,” he explained. “But there is always mistrust amongst them. Dozens of secret grudges and wars play out in the shadows.”
    Leander’s heart ached for the boy. It was an ugly situation, but there was no use hiding it from him. “What Nicodemus says is true, Timothy,” he said, speaking in his calmest voice. “Even now Parliament is investigating the disappearances of a number of sorcerers who were probably victims of the kinds of covert activity the Grandmaster is speaking of. Mages do not traditionally disappear for no reason. The guild masters are always suspicious of one another, but this is only making them worse. It’s likely they’re being killed. And thus for the investigation—”
    Panic seemed to set in upon the boy, and he stood, fists clenched at his sides. “Why are you telling me this?” he demanded. “Are you trying to scare me?”
    Leander shook his head. “No, Timothy,” he soothed. “We don’t want to scare you, but you must be made aware of the dangers you face in this world.” He paused, running his fingers through his thick, red beard. “On the way here the Grandmaster and I discussed ways to keep you safe. And after witnessing the Cuzcotec attempt on your life, I believe that Nicodemus’s plan is most sound.”
    Timothy turned to Nicodemus. “And what is this plan exactly?” he asked warily.
    Nicodemus narrowed his eyes, brows knitting thoughtfully. “It isn’t safe for you here.” The Grandmaster’s tone was resolute, and as he spoke his feline familiar lifted its angular head and yawned languidly, displaying its needle-sharp fangs. “You will come and live at my estate where you can be properly protected. At least until we can be certain no one else will try to do you harm.”
    Timothy scowled and crossed his arms. “No, thank you. I want to stay here. This is my home now.” The boy moved to stand beside Leander’s chair. “Tell him,” he said, and though the words formed a command, they were more of a plea. “Tell him that it will be fine for me here.”
    Nicodemus had first made the suggestion back at the ministry, and Leander had dismissed it, but that was before the attempt on the child’s life. He reached out and took hold of the boy’s arms, drawing him closer. He looked Timothy in the eyes. “I swore to your father that I would do everything in my power to protect you. If the Cuzcotec know of you, then others know of you as well.”
    Timothy’s eyes had begun to well with tears, and he fought the show of emotion, lowering his gaze. “But Ivar and Sheridan can protect me,” he said.
    “Hukk! Don’t forget the bird,” said Edgar from his perch atop the sofa.
    Leander ignored the rook and continued to speak to his charge. “Perhaps they could, but there is no way to be certain. We have no way to know who else might mean you harm, and how powerful they might be. I will not risk your safety. I could not bear it.” He glanced past the boy to Nicodemus. The sage old sorcerer nodded his head in approval.
    “What makes you think I’ll be any safer with Lord Nicodemus?” Timothy asked, avoiding looking at the Grandmaster. “My father’s house has safeguards. You told me so yourself. But those . . . those things managed to get in just the