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and I turned again. The mirror and its wall were gone. I now faced a low hill, a line of broken masonry at
its top. Light flickered from behind that shattered wall. Both curiosity and my sense of purpose roused, I
began climbiing slowly, my wariness yet present.
The sky seemed to grow darker even as I climbed and it was cloudless, a profusion of stars pulsing
in unfamiliar constellations across it. I moved with some stealth amid stones, grasses, shrubs, broken
masonry. From beyond the vine-clad wall I now heard the sounds of voices. Though I could not
distinguish the words being spoken, it did not seem conversation that I overheard, but rather a
cacophony-as if a number of individuals, of both genders and various ages, were delivering simultaneous
monologues.
Coming to the hill's top, I extended my hand until it made contact with the wall's irregular surface. I
decided against going around it to see what sort of activity was in progress on the other side. It could
make me visible to I knew not what. It seemed so much simpler to reach as high as I could, hook my
fingers over the top of the nearest depressed area, and draw myself upward-as I did. I even located
toeholds as my head neared the top, and I was able to ease some of the strain on my arms by resting part
of my weight upon them.
I drew myself carefully up those final few inches, peering past fractured stone and down into the
interior of the ruined structure. It appeared to have been some sort of church. The roof was fallen, and
the far wall still stood, in much the same condition as the one I clung to. There was an altar in bad repair
in a raised area off to my right. Whatever had happened here must have happened long ago, for shrubs
and vines grew in the interior as well as without, softening the lines of collapsed pews, fallen pillars,
fragments of the roof.
Below me, in a cleared area, a large pentagram was drawn. At each of the star's points stood a
figure, facing outward. Inward from them, at the five points where the lines crossed, flared a torch, its
butt driven into the earth. This seemed a somewhat peculiar variation on the rituals with which I was
familiar, and I wondered at the summoning and why the five were not better protected and why they
were not about the work in concert, rather than each seeming off on a personal trip and ignoring the
others. The three whom I could see clearly had their backs to me. The two who faced in my direction
were barely within my line of sight, their faces covered over with shadows. Some of the voices were
male; some, female. One was singing; two were chanting; the other two seemed merely to be speaking,
though in stagy, artificial tones.
I drew myself higher, trying for a glimpse of the faces of the nearer two. This because there was
something familiar about the entire ensemble, and I felt that if I were to identify one, I might well realize all
of their identities.
Another question high on my list was, What was it they were summoning? Was I safe up here on the
wall, this close to the operation, if something unusual put in an appearance? It did not seem that the
proper constraints were in place below. I drew myself higher still. I felt my center of gravity shifting just
as my view of affairs improved yet again. Then I realized that I was moving forward without effort. An
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instant later I knew that the wall was toppling, carrying me forward and down right into the midst of their
oddly choreographed ritual. I tried to push myself away from the wall, hoping to hit the ground rolling and
run like hell. But it was already too late. My abrupt push-up raised me into the air but did not really halt
my forward momentum.
No one beneath me stirred, though rubble rained about them all, and I finally caught some
recognizable words as I fell.
". . . summon thee, Merlin, to fall into my power now!" one of the women was chanting.
A very effective ritual after all, I decided, as I landed on my back upon the pentagram, arms flopping
out to my sides at shoulder level, legs spread. I was able to tuck my chin, protecting my head, and the
slapping of my arms seemed to produce a break-fall effect so that I was not badly stunned by the impact.
The five high towers of fire danced wildly about me for several seconds, then settled once again into
steadier blazing. The five figures still faced outward. I attempted to rise and found that I could not. It was
as if I were staked out in that position.
Frakir had warned me too late, as I was falling, and now I was uncertain to what employment I
might put her. I could send her creeping off to any of the figures with orders to work her way upward
and commence choking. But so far I had no way of knowing which one, if any, might deserve such
treatment.
"I hate dropping in without notice," I said, "and I can see this is a private party. If someone will be
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