The Warlock Rock by Christopher Stasheff Page B
Authors: Christopher Stasheff
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, Fantasy, Science Fiction - General, Fiction - Science Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Fantastic fiction, Rock Music, Gallowglass; Rod (Fictitious character)
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in the night. As much to reassure himself as her, he said, "We can wipe it out any time we want to, of course."
"Certes." Gwen frowned. "Yet I am loath to do so, for 'tis a living being, even as we are."
"Living," Rod agreed, "but dangerous to sheep and small peasants. We can't really leave a thing like that around to roam the countryside, Gwen."
"Mayhap it can be tamed," she offered.
Rod shook his head. "Whether it was generated by imagination or genes, it was born to be wild. We're going to have to find some way to pull its teeth."
Those teeth were coming entirely too close. The wolf's tongue lolled out between them, almost in a smile, and the great eyes glowed in the dusk.
"First," Rod said through stiff lips, "I think we'd better go aloft. Ready?" Something shot over their heads, a flurry of night wings and a long, mournful, echoing call. The stepping wolf howled, dodged aside, then leaped up, jaws snapping, but the giant bird banked away. It came circling back, though,
and the dancer had no attention to spare for its erstwhile quarry. The night-spirit cupped its wings and stretched its claws down, landing between the wolf and the humans—an owl eight feet tall, poising wings that seemed to stretch out forever as a shield for the tender ones at its back. Rod saw the gleam of a curved bill the size of his arm, and eyes the size of dinner plates that stared at the predator. A long cry filled the night again.
" Who-o-o-o-o-o-o," the great bird called. " Who-o-o-o-o't"
"Doth he mean to threaten?" Gwen asked.
"Threat or comfort, it's music to my ears. But he can't really hold off that wolf, can he?" The four-footed dancer seemed to have come to the same conclusion. It crouched, snarling, readying itself for a leap.
" Whol"the great owl exclaimed with a snap of its wings, and the wolf rocked back, startled for a moment.
Before it could regain its poise, a sonorous gong-roll filled the night, and an awkward figure appeared, flapping long-sleeved arms for balance, teetering in front of the giant owl. It wore a tall, pointed cap painted in spirals of mauve and lavender, interspersed with stars and crescent moons, which also adorned its patchwork robe, five sizes too big. "Here now, here now, what's all this?" the small man said in a peevish tone. He looked up at the great owl through a huge pair of circular spectacles. "What did you call me for, Hoot?"
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The night-king gave a hoot, nodding its head toward the wolf. The patchwork wizard turned to peer into the gloaming, adjusting his spectacles. "What's this, what's this? A dancing wolf, you say? Well, let him dance!"
The owl hooted again.
"People?" The wizard looked up at Rod and Gwen, startled. "Oh! Good evening. I am Spinball the wizard."
"Um—pleased to meet you." Rod hoped he wasn't staring too obviously. "I'm Rod Gallowglass, and this is my wife, Gwen."
"The High Warlock?" Spinball straightened, startled. "And the Wonder Witch, too! Why, you have no need of me! You could skin and stuff this animal before it even noticed!"
"Well, yes," Rod admitted, "but we're a little reluctant, you see. I mean, it's just doing what it was born to do, and we hate to end an innocent life if we can avoid it." Spinball lifted his head, a glint of respect in his eye. "Ah, well. I can understand that. Of course, yes."
"Cannot this beast be tamed?" Gwen asked gently.
"Oh." Spinball knitted his brows. "You haven't much of a knack with beasts, eh? Well, that makes a difference. I'll see what I can do, then." Abruptly, he smiled. "Nice to have a feeling of purpose for a change." Then he spun away to the wolf.
"He is quite nice," Gwen said carefully.
"Definitely," Rod agreed. "Seems to be a bit of a screwball, though."
"Here, now, Dancer," the wizard said. His tone was firm, but gentle. "You really mustn't bother these people."
The wolf growled.
"Oh, yes, I know you're hungry," Spinball said,
"Certes." Gwen frowned. "Yet I am loath to do so, for 'tis a living being, even as we are."
"Living," Rod agreed, "but dangerous to sheep and small peasants. We can't really leave a thing like that around to roam the countryside, Gwen."
"Mayhap it can be tamed," she offered.
Rod shook his head. "Whether it was generated by imagination or genes, it was born to be wild. We're going to have to find some way to pull its teeth."
Those teeth were coming entirely too close. The wolf's tongue lolled out between them, almost in a smile, and the great eyes glowed in the dusk.
"First," Rod said through stiff lips, "I think we'd better go aloft. Ready?" Something shot over their heads, a flurry of night wings and a long, mournful, echoing call. The stepping wolf howled, dodged aside, then leaped up, jaws snapping, but the giant bird banked away. It came circling back, though,
and the dancer had no attention to spare for its erstwhile quarry. The night-spirit cupped its wings and stretched its claws down, landing between the wolf and the humans—an owl eight feet tall, poising wings that seemed to stretch out forever as a shield for the tender ones at its back. Rod saw the gleam of a curved bill the size of his arm, and eyes the size of dinner plates that stared at the predator. A long cry filled the night again.
" Who-o-o-o-o-o-o," the great bird called. " Who-o-o-o-o't"
"Doth he mean to threaten?" Gwen asked.
"Threat or comfort, it's music to my ears. But he can't really hold off that wolf, can he?" The four-footed dancer seemed to have come to the same conclusion. It crouched, snarling, readying itself for a leap.
" Whol"the great owl exclaimed with a snap of its wings, and the wolf rocked back, startled for a moment.
Before it could regain its poise, a sonorous gong-roll filled the night, and an awkward figure appeared, flapping long-sleeved arms for balance, teetering in front of the giant owl. It wore a tall, pointed cap painted in spirals of mauve and lavender, interspersed with stars and crescent moons, which also adorned its patchwork robe, five sizes too big. "Here now, here now, what's all this?" the small man said in a peevish tone. He looked up at the great owl through a huge pair of circular spectacles. "What did you call me for, Hoot?"
Page 65
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
The night-king gave a hoot, nodding its head toward the wolf. The patchwork wizard turned to peer into the gloaming, adjusting his spectacles. "What's this, what's this? A dancing wolf, you say? Well, let him dance!"
The owl hooted again.
"People?" The wizard looked up at Rod and Gwen, startled. "Oh! Good evening. I am Spinball the wizard."
"Um—pleased to meet you." Rod hoped he wasn't staring too obviously. "I'm Rod Gallowglass, and this is my wife, Gwen."
"The High Warlock?" Spinball straightened, startled. "And the Wonder Witch, too! Why, you have no need of me! You could skin and stuff this animal before it even noticed!"
"Well, yes," Rod admitted, "but we're a little reluctant, you see. I mean, it's just doing what it was born to do, and we hate to end an innocent life if we can avoid it." Spinball lifted his head, a glint of respect in his eye. "Ah, well. I can understand that. Of course, yes."
"Cannot this beast be tamed?" Gwen asked gently.
"Oh." Spinball knitted his brows. "You haven't much of a knack with beasts, eh? Well, that makes a difference. I'll see what I can do, then." Abruptly, he smiled. "Nice to have a feeling of purpose for a change." Then he spun away to the wolf.
"He is quite nice," Gwen said carefully.
"Definitely," Rod agreed. "Seems to be a bit of a screwball, though."
"Here, now, Dancer," the wizard said. His tone was firm, but gentle. "You really mustn't bother these people."
The wolf growled.
"Oh, yes, I know you're hungry," Spinball said,
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