Sourcery Read Online Free PDF

this?’ he said. It was pretty weak, he had to admit, but the steadiness of that incandescent glare appeared to be stripping all the words out of his memory.
    â€˜I have come,’ said the stranger.
    â€˜Come? Come for what?’
    â€˜To take my place. Where is the seat for me?’
    â€˜Are you a student?’ demanded Spelter, white with anger. ‘What is your name, young man?’
    The boy ignored him and looked around at the assembled wizards.
    â€˜Who is the most powerful wizard here?’ he said. ‘I wish to meet him.’
    Spelter nodded his head. Two of the college porters, who had been sidling towards the newcomer for the last few minutes, appeared at either elbow.
    â€˜Take him out and throw him in the street,’ said Spelter. The porters, big solid serious men, nodded. They gripped the boy’s pipestem arms with hands like banana bunches.
    â€˜Your father will hear of this,’ said Spelter severely.
    â€˜He already has,’ said the boy. He glanced up at the two men and shrugged.
    â€˜What’s going on here?’
    Spelter turned to see Skarmer Billias, head of the Order of the Silver Star. Whereas Spelter tended towards the wiry, Billias was expansive, looking rather like a small captive balloon that had for some reason been draped in blue velvet and vermine; between them, the wizards averaged out as two normal-sized men.
    Unfortunately, Billias was the type of person who prided himself on being good with children. He bent down as far as his dinner would allow and thrust a whiskery red face towards the boy.
    â€˜What’s the matter, lad?’ he said.
    â€˜This child had forced his way into here because, he says, he wants to meet a powerful wizard,’ said Spelter, disapprovingly. Spelter disliked children intensely, which was perhaps why they found him so fascinating. At the moment he was successfully preventing himself from wondering about the door.
    â€˜Nothing wrong with that,’ said Billias. ‘Any lad worth his salt wants to be a wizard. I wanted to be a wizard when I was a lad. Isn’t that right, lad?’
    â€˜Are you puissant?’ said the boy.
    â€˜Hmm?’
    â€˜I said, are you puissant? How powerful are you?’
    â€˜Powerful?’ said Billias. He stood up, fingered his eighth-level sash, and winked at Spelter. ‘Oh, pretty powerful. Quite powerful as wizards go.’
    â€˜Good. I challenge you. Show me your strongest magic. And when I have beaten you, why, then I shall be Archchancellor.’
    â€˜Why, you impudent—’ began Spelter, but his protest was lost in the roar of laughter from the rest of the wizards. Billias slapped his knees, or as near to them as he could reach.
    â€˜A duel, eh?’ he said. ‘Pretty good, eh?’
    â€˜Duelling is forbidden, as well you know,’ said Spelter. ‘Anyway, it’s totally ridiculous! I don’t know who did the doors for him, but I will not stand here and see you waste all our time—’
    â€˜Now, now,’ said Billias. ‘What’s your name, lad?’
    â€˜Coin.’
    â€˜Coin, sir ,’ snapped Spelter.
    â€˜Well, now, Coin,’ said Billias. ‘You want to see the best I can do, eh?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜Yes sir ,’ snapped Spelter. Coin gave him an unblinking stare, a stare as old as time, the kind of stare that basks on rocks on volcanic islands and never gets tired. Spelter felt his mouth go dry.
    Billias held out his hands for silence. Then, with a theatrical flourish, he rolled up the sleeve of his left arm and extended his hand.
    The assembled wizards watched with interest. Eighth-levels were above magic, as a rule, spending most of their time in contemplation – normally of the next menu – and, of course, avoiding the attentions of ambitious wizards of the seventh-level. This should be worth seeing.
    Billias grinned at the boy, who returned it with a stare that