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know what I was thinking for a while." He flashed an empty smile. "I just wanted to be by myself, to get
myself back together again. I was never very close to anyone. I'm an orphan. I always kept to myself and
did what I wanted to do. I explored places, and that was enough for me. Exploring and being alone."
He looked back at the red-purple glow. "That was how the drow caught me, you know. I was
exploring, and they ambushed me with nets and clubs. Beat me until I was almost broken, dragged me
back like a food lizard to their commune. You probably remember what I looked like then. You were
already there." He chewed on his lower lip, squinting at the glow, then suddenly turned to Geppo. "How
did they ever catch you?" he asked.
The derro blinked, then looked away. He covered his mouth with one hand, stroking his scraggly
mustache. Wykar looked away at the glow again.
"My... my people sold me," Geppo said suddenly. He started to say more, but stopped. He didn't look
at Wykar.
"Sold you?" Wykar said, stunned. "Sold you to the drow?"
Geppo stroked his mustache and nodded. The heat from his face increased visibly. He made an odd
brush-away gesture with his hand, then kept toying with his mustache.
"Why?" Wykar asked.
Geppo's face seemed to sag like melting wax. He bowed his head and blew out heavily. He smiled as if
the news were of no consequence and spoke slowly. "Geppo not. . . Geppo have no ... no magic like
True-Masters-what you say derro. No magic in Geppo, all empty. Lose magic when born, maybe.
Geppo, True-Masters not know why. Geppo not know how make magic go from hands, go from head.
True-Masters, they have magic, magic for conquer, kill, but . . ." He shrugged and spread his hands.
"Empty," he said.
Wykar swallowed. "Your clan sold you for that? Didn't your father stop-" The truth dawned. He bit off
his words, too late.
Geppo coughed, then held his thin hands up to his eyes, surveying his fingers and palms as if they were
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keepsakes of no value. "Father," he said, smiling again. "Father very angry. He say, Geppo shame upon
all clan for have no magic. Father say, Geppo slave now. Geppo talk like slave. Geppo tell truth like
slave. Geppo work, be slave, then Father angry more and say, out! He sell Geppo. Drow slave." He
shrugged, his voice a monotone. His eyes glistened as he looked at the ground. "True-Masters, drow, all
gone now. Geppo have no magic, but Geppo here, all good, hey." He sighed, all the wind going out of
him. "Get golds now," he said, his voice tired. "Tell me now how we get golds and egg. Tell secret plan
now. Talk too much."
Wykar looked away, the sound of the Sea of Ghosts in his ears. "Well," he said at last, "I thought we
would just walk into that crack in the wall there and take them."
The derro stared at Wykar and snorted in disbelief, his face heating with anger once more. Before
Geppo could say a word, however, Wykar reached back and dug his fingers into a slit on the inside of
the back of his belt. The rings were still there, the rings he had taken from the body of a long-dead
svirfneblin. He fished them out. The derro was a terrible looter, if that was what he had been doing
earlier.
Wykar handed one ring to the derro. As he did, a sudden heat arose in Wykar's face and stung his eyes.
He fought against it, refusing to acknowledge it at all. He almost took back the ring. His fingers trembled
as if they knew what they were about to do.
"Don't put this on yet," said Wykar, struggling to keep his voice as steady as before. He did not dare
look Geppo in the face. "These rings will make us invisible. The cloakers won't see us at all. Whatever
we pick up will disappear, too, so we can carry things off, right out from under them. If the cloakers
come after us, just run back here. They won't be able to see you, but you have to move carefully over
loose stones, or they can find you that way. They can still hear you even if you are invisible. Do you
understand?"
He dared to look at the derro's face. White eyes huge, Geppo stared down at the plain golden band in
his thin fingers. Something was going on in his mind, though. Wykar could see that clearly.
Even through the fires of his shame.
Geppo's hand closed over the ring. He looked up, eyes avoiding Wykar's, then he looked down at his
fist again.
"Yes," whispered Geppo. Then: "Thank you."
No, don't say that, Wykar thought in horror. No. Think of the egg. This is the only way. It is the only
way.
Wykar held out his right hand, fingers spread. His hand shook as if it were cold, but he pretended not to
see it. "I'm going to put my ring on," he said hoarsely. "Your people are like mine, a little, because we are
resistant to magic more than other folk. Sometimes these rings work for us, sometimes they don't. We
have to keep trying until they do." With that, Wykar slid his ring on the middle finger of his left hand.
And he vanished. Invisible. He shivered when it happened. He would never get used to that. Geppo
flinched and, with what looked like open fear, watched the spot where Wykar had been. It was fear of
abandonment, Wykar instinctively knew, not fear of magic.
"It's okay," said Wykar softly. "I'm still here. I'm invisible. You must have seen magic like this before
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somewhere. This is our magic now. Okay, now, you put your ring on."
Geppo looked around for the source of the bodiless voice, as if he thought Wykar were going to
reappear. When that didn't happen, he looked down at his own ring, then carefully put it on.
Wykar continued watching the derro, who examined his still-visible hand in confusion. "Try it again," said
Wykar, gaining his nerve by talking. "That's your natural magic resistance. Take the ring off, put it down
on the ground, then pick it up and try again."
Geppo did as he was told. As he put the ring on the second time, he gasped aloud in amazement, mouth
open wide. He turned his hands over in front of his face, marveling at the sight of them, then looked at the
rest of his body and possessions. His face radiated purest awe.
Wykar watched invisibly, face burning and chest tight. The derro was just as clearly visible to Wykar
now as he had been before the ring was put on.
But that was not surprising, given the sort of magical ring that Geppo wore, a wondrous ring that fulfilled
the wearer's most secret and desired wish.
A cursed ring of mental delusions.
"Excellent," said Wykar shakily. "It worked that time. Don't wander off. I ... I can't see you, and we
have to go. Stay within hearing of my voice, though. When we get close enough, just move in on your
own. Get whatever gold you want, then come back here. Don't take your ring off until then. The cloakers
will never see us."
Geppo nodded. A new expression filled his ravaged face. It was beatific joy. Wykar knew he had done
something terribly wrong. He was no fool when it came to the gods. They saw everything, even this.
Maybe they would forgive all of this because of the egg. The egg was the evil thing, not Wykar. He told
himself this over and over, but somehow he did not believe it anymore.
He shook it off. He was tricking a derro, not a child or a god's holy avatar.
If I am to be damned, then let us get on with it, Wykar thought angrily. "Let's go," he said, getting to his
feet.
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