“My master. I activated it as soon as you and your companions left the castle after your last visit. Without the presence of Macros the Black to ensure our safety, he felt the need to provide us with “protective colouration,” in a manner of speaking. Twice now bold pirates have combed the island for booty. They find nothing.”
Pug’s head suddenly came up. “Then the villa still exists?”
“Yes, Master Pug. It was also hidden by the illusion.” Gathis appeared disturbed. “I must confess that while I am no expert in such matters, I would have thought the illusion spell beyond your ability to banish.” Again he sighed. “Now I worry at its absence once you’ve left.”
Pug waved away the remark. “I will re-establish it before we leave.” Something nagged at Pug’s mind, a strange image of speaking with Macros in the villa. “When I asked Macros if he lived in the villa, he said, ‘No, though I once did, long ago.’ ” He looked at Gathis. “Did he have a study, such as the one in the tower, at the villa?”
Gathis said, “Yes, ages ago, before I came to this place.”
Pug stood. “We must go there, now.”
Gathis led them down the path into the vale. The red tile roofs were as Pug had remembered. Tomas said, “This is a strange place, though it seems pleasing enough in aspect. With fair weather, it would be a comfortable home.”
“So my master thought, once,” said Gathis. “But he was gone for a long time, so he told me. And when he returned, the villa was deserted, those who had lived with him gone without explanation. At first he searched for his companions, but soon despaired of ever knowing their fate. Then he feared for the safety of his books and other works as well as the lives of the servants he planned to bring here, so he built the castle. And took other measures,” he added with a chuckle.
“The legend of Macros the Black.”
“Terror of evil magic serves oft-times better than stout castle walls, Master Pug. The difficulties were not trivial: shrouding this rather sunny island in gloomy clouds and keeping that infernal blue light flashing in the high tower each time a ship approached. It was something of a nuisance.”
They entered the courtyard of the villa, surrounded by only a low wall. Pug paused to regard the fountain, where three dolphins rose upon a pedestal, and said, “I fashioned the pattern in my transport room after this.” Gathis led him toward the central building, and suddenly Pug understood. There were neither connecting walkways nor roofs covering them, but this villa matched his own upon Kelewan in building size and placement. The pattern was identical. Pug halted, looking shaken.
Tomas said, “What is it?”
“It seems Macros had his hand in many things far more subtle than we had known. I built my home upon Kelewan in the image of this one without knowing I had done so. I had no reason to, save it seemed the way to build it. Now I don’t think I had much choice. Come, I will show you where the study lay.” He led them without error to the room that matched the location of his own study. Instead of the sliding cloth-covered doors of Kelewan, they faced a single door of wood, but Gathis nodded.
Pug opened the door and stepped inside. The room was identical in size and shape. A dust-covered writing table and chair rested where Pug had placed his low writing table and cushions in the matching room. Pug laughed, shaking his head in appreciation and wonder. “The sorcerer had many tricks.” He moved to a small fireplace. Pulling upon a stone, he revealed a hidden nook. “I had such a place built into my own hearth, though I never understood why. I had no reason to use it.” Within that nook a rolled parchment lay. Pug withdrew it and inspected it. A single ribbon without seal tied the scroll.
He unrolled it and read, his face becoming animated. “Oh, you clever man!” he said. Looking at Tomas and Gathis, he explained. “This is written in Tsurani. Even if the spell of illusion was broken, and someone stumbled across this room, and found the nook and the parchment, there was almost no chance of them being able to read this.” He looked back at the parchment and began to read aloud. “ ‘Pug, by reading this, know I am most likely dead. But if not, I am somewhere beyond the normal boundaries of space and time. In either case I am unable to provide you with the aid you seek. You have discovered something of the nature of the Enemy and know it imperils both Kelewan and Midkemia. Seek me first in the Halls of the Dead. If I am not there, then you know I live. If I am alive, I will be captive in a place difficult to find. Then you will make the choice, either to seek to learn more of the Enemy on your own, a most dangerous course in the extreme but one that may succeed, or to search for me. Whatever you do, know I wish you the blessings of the gods. Macros.’ ” Pug put away the scroll. “I had hoped for more.”
Gathis said, “My master was a man of power, but even he had his limits. As stated in his last missive to you, he could not pierce the veil of time once he entered the rift with you. From that point on, time was as opaque to him as to other men. He could only speculate.”
Tomas said, “Then we must away to the Halls of the Dead.”