The Hidden Land Read Online Free PDF Page A

school of Blue Sorcery.
    The beast gurgled again, and sloshed itself a little, back and forth on the worn gray stones of the floor.
    “Very funny,” said Ted. Nobody seemed to think the things were dangerous, but they were disquieting. “Just your kind of weather, isn’t it?” he said companionably. The beast was silent.
    The man-at-arms poked his head around the corner at the top of the stairs. “My lord?”
    “Can you come here and—” No, of course not, he couldn’t leave his post. “Look at this thing on the floor; have you ever seen one of these?”
    The man squinted. “ ’Tis too small for my eyes, seemingly, my lord.”
    It was the size of a beanbag chair. Ted turned to look at it again, and it was gone.
    “Never mind,” he said, trying not to sound as furious as he felt.
    The guard grinned at him and went back around the corner.
    “Give you good day,” his voice said then, echoing a little in the hollow stairs.
    “I would that you could,” said Randolph’s voice, wryly rather than gloomily.
    “Hath been a bad year for fogs,” said the guard.
    “Well,” said Randolph, “they say ’tis wondrous good for sorcery.”
    “No doubt,” said the guard, sounding like Fence; and Randolph laughed.
    When he came down the corridor and saw Ted, he stopped smiling.
    “Give you good day,” said Ted, and was astonished at the insolence in his voice. He wondered if he would be able to summon up the same tone for the school principal the next time the principal deserved it. He wondered if Randolph deserved it.
    Randolph’s eyebrows went up, but all he said was, “And you.”
    He did not look at Ted as Ted moved to let him by. He stopped before the carved doors, stepped back, tilted his head as if he were reading, and said, “Master and servant bid thee open.”
    Ted looked at the door, but if its wooden twinings were letters, they were none he had ever seen. The doors swung inward, silently, and Randolph went in.
    “Will it ruin the ritual if I come in and sit down?” called Ted.
    “This is not sorcery,” said Randolph, rather shortly.
    Ted’s impulse was to ask him if he minded, but he thought in time that it was probably not wise to be too courteous to a murderer. Even on the brink of the deed it was hard to think of Randolph as a murderer. Ted went to his chair and sat down. A trickle of water had come in one corner of the easternmost window and collected on the floor in a dull pool. Ted thought for a moment that it was the beast again. The room was even darker than the hall. But Randolph, who could speak to the beasts and be obeyed, only muttered under his breath and went out, leaving Ted to feel like someone in the waiting room of an unknown dentist of dubious reputation.
    Before Randolph returned, Andrew and Conrad came in. They did not look as if they had walked to the Council Room together; they had the wary and disgruntled air of people who have been startled by someone they do not like.
    They made an odd pair even in appearance: Conrad large and placid, with his bald head and vast black beard; Andrew thin and wary, with his sleek hair and yellow moustache and his level eye. Conrad wore a huge and shapeless robe of some shiny purple stuff. Andrew had stayed with what Ted realized must be the newer fashion, shirt and doublet and hose. His were gold and white. Faith and health, thought Ted. There’s arrogance for you.
    He and Andrew had not spoken to one another since the nasty scene at the Banquet of Midsummer’s Eve. There had been no need; except on just such formal occasions, they did not move in the same circles. Now Andrew took one look at Ted and frowned even harder. Conrad only grinned at him.
    “Give you good day,” said Ted, to the space between them.
    “Well, lad, where’s the wine?” said Conrad.
    “I expect Randolph’s gone for it,” said Ted, wondering if he should have gone, too. But it was in sealed bottles, wasn’t it?
    Conrad sat down in his accustomed chair. Ted