"Yes, thanks to Magnus. But Geoff, make sure you tell me if you start feeling tired-after all, Cordelia can give you a lift for a few minutes.""For an hour," Cordelia caroled, swooping her broomstick in a figure-eight, "and not even feel it!"

"Hey, now! Straighten out and fly right! We've got a long way to go; no time or energy for fancy stuff!""Killjoy!" Magnus snorted. "Night flying's fun!""This, from the expert who thought I was wrong wanting to fly this time," Rod snorted.

"Well, Papa, you said yourself it'd attract too much attention."

"Yeah, but we've got a hundred miles to go before dawn; we don't have much

choice this time. Besides, we're not too apt to be noticed at night; and if we are,

by the time Duke Foidin can get troops after us, we'll be out of reach. And we're certainly going faster than any courier he can send!" He peered over Gwen's shoulder. "How's Elidor holding out, dear?"

Gwen glanced down at the small shape huddled against her, between her arms. "Almost beginning to enjoy it, I think."

"He is the stuff of which kings are made," Father Al gulped.

Rod decided the priest could use a distraction. "Figured out how magic works here, Father?"

"Oh, it seems to be fairly straightforward. I postulate three forces: Satanic, Divine, and impersonal. Most of what I've seen today, and tonight, falls in the 'impersonal' category."

Rod frowned. "What's 'impersonal?' "

"Essentially, it's the same force espers use. Everyone has it, to some degree. An esper has so much of it that he can work 'magic' by his own power; but everyone 'leaks' their little bit, and it goes into the rocks, the earth, the water, the air, absorbed into molecules. So it's there, ready to draw on; and, in a universe such as this, a few gifted individuals have the ability to tap that huge reservoir, and channel its force to do whatever they want."

Rod nodded. "Sounds right. Seen anything here that would disprove that?"

"No, but I think I'm going to have to come up with a corollary theory for the faery folk."

"You do that. Any idea why the whole world is still medieval, even though it's 3059 AD?".

"Well, at a guess, I'd say it's because technology never advanced much."

"Fine." Rod smiled. "So how come technology didn't advance?"

Father Al shrugged. "Why bother inventing gadgets, when you can do it by magic?"

That gave Rod pause. He was quiet for the rest of the flight.Well /most of the time, anyway. "No, Cordelia-you may not race that owl!""You sure you're not getting tired, Geoff?""Magnus, leave that bat alone!"The land rose beneath them, rippling into ridges and hills, then buckling into mountains. Finally, as dawn tinged the sky ahead and to the right, Elidor's finger

stabbed down. "Yonder it lies!"

Rod peered ahead around Gwen and saw the ruins of a great, round tower, perched high on a crag. "Be fun getting up to that."

Magnus veered close and pointed downward. "I see a ledge of rock beside it, that trails away behind for a good hundred yards."

"Yeah, but then it blends back into the side of the mountain. How do I get to it in

the first place?"

"Why, I will land thee on it, when thou dost wish," Gwen called back. "But, husband, we have flown half the night, and even I begin to weary. Would we not do well to rest ere we advance?"

"Yes, definitely." Rod looked around. "Where's a good place to rest?"

' "There, and a safe one." Father Al nodded down toward a valley, but did not point. "That little village, with the small steeple. There's a patch of woods near it, to hide our descent."

Rod looked down. "Well, it looks snug enough. But will we be welcome? As I recollect, mountaineers aren't generally too hospitable to outsiders."

"Oh, the parish priest will let us in," Father Al a.s.sured him. "I have connections."

Rod shrugged. "Good enough for me. Wanna let me off this thing, dear?"

"Aye, if thou wilt wait till I do land." Gwen tilted the broomstick down. Father Al gulped, and held on tight.

They found a clearing just big enough, and brought everyone in, in orderly fashion. Little Geoff fell the last two feet and pushed himself up out of the meadow gra.s.s, looking groggy. Rod ran over to him. "I told you to tell me when you were getting tired! Here, son, why don't you ride a little, now?" He hoisted the boy up onto his shoulders, and turned to Gwen. "Now-which way's the village?"

They found it, webbed in the birdsong of early morning. The parish priest was just closing the back door as they came up.

"Good morning, Father!" Father Al called cheerily, in spite of his rubber legs. The old priest looked up, blinking. He was bald, and his long beard was grey. He was slim with a lifetime of fasting, and rock-hard as his mountains. "Why... good morrow, Father," he returned. " 'Tis early, for travellers to come walking."

'We've been on the road all the night; 'tis a matter of some urgency," Father Al replied. "I am these goodfoiks 'protection from the powers that walk at night; yet even I must sleep sometime. Canst thou spare us hospitality for a few hours?"

"Why... a.s.suredly, for the Cloth," the old priest said, bemused. "Yet there is only my poor small room, behind the chapel..."

"No matter; we'll sleep in the nave, if thou dost not object, under the Lord's protection. We'll need every ounce we can get."

"Father," the old priest said severely, "one ought not to sleep in Church."

"Tell that to the goodfolk who must listen to my sermons."

The old priest stared for a moment; then he smiled. "Well said, well said! Avail

thyselves of what little thou canst find, then-and pardon my poor hosting. I must bless three fields and see to a woman whose hands pain her."

"Arthritis?" Rod asked, coming up behind Father Al.

"Nay, only a swelling of the joints, and pain when she moves her fingers. Elf-

shot, belike. A drop of holy water, a touch of the crucifix, and a short prayer will set her to rights."

Rod stared.

Father Al got the thoughtful look again. "Hast thou ever known the treatment to fail, Father?"

"Aye; there do be stronger spells. Then must I ask the Bishop to come-or take my poor souls to him, if they can walk."

"And the blessing of the fields-are the crops in danger?"

"Oh, nay!" the old priest laughed. "I can see thy mind; but do not trouble thyself, Father; thou hast journeyed long, and hast need of thy rest. Nay, 'tis only the usual blessing, without which the fields will yield scarcely half their corn."

"Of course." Father Al smiled. "Well, it doth no harm to be certain. Thou wilt send for me if thou dost need me, though?"

"Be a.s.sured that I will-but be also a.s.sured that I'll have no need. Be welcome in my home, and make thyselves free of what little thou'It find in the larder. Have no fear for me-the Lord will provide."

"And He probably will," Father Al noted as they watched the old man leave, with an almost-youthful stride. "After all, magic works, here."

"Small magics," Rod agreed, "daily ones. It seems the village priest is the mundane magician, here. How does that fit into your theories, Father?"

"Perfectly. As I mentioned, I posit three sources of Power, and one of them is Divine-though I have a notion that some of his spells work more by 'secular,' impersonal magic than by G.o.d's Power. Some trace of magical ability could well be a requirement for admission to the seminary."

"Probably," Rod agreed. "But the old man's abilities notwithstanding, I think it might be in order to keep our hands off his food, if we can." He turned to his son. "Magnus, Geoff's about tuckered. How much grub do you think you could scare up by yourself?"

Magnus pulled a hare out from behind his back. "I was hungry, Papa."

"So was I." Cordelia held out an ap.r.o.nful of birds' eggs and berries.

"Nice thing about kids-they never lose track of the important things," Rod noted, to Father Al. "What do you say I take the skillet, Gwen? You're looking pretty tired, yourself."

"Aye, but I wish to eat before noon." Gwen caught up the hare and brushed past him into the "rectory."

"Come, Cordelia."

"Well, I guess we get to decide the fate of the world." Rod sat down on the step as the door closed behind the ladies. "Magnus, keep your brother busy until breakfast, so he doesn't fall asleep."

"Doing what, Papa?"

"Oh, I dunno... go play tag with a wolf, or something. Uh, cancel that," he added quickly, as he saw Magnus's eyes light up. "No sense in cruelty to animals. Go cut a couple of willow wands and drill him on fencing-he's a little slow on the riposte."

"As thou dost wish, Papa." Magnus turned away, crestfallen. "Come, Geoffrey."

"And stay where I can see you!"

Magnus gave a martyr's sigh. "We will."

"Would you really have worried more about the wolf than about them?" Father Al asked, sitting beside Rod.

"Not completely," Rod admitted, "but I've seen Magnus drive a wolf to distraction. He disappears just before the wolf gets him, and reappears behind it. Then the wolf turns around to charge him again, and he disappears in the nick of time, bobbing up behind it again. When I caught him, he had it chasing its own tail."

Father Al shook his head in wonder. "I think I begin to understand why you adjusted to a world of magic so easily."

"Kids do keep your mind limber," Rod admitted.

"Limber enough to understand why technology never went beyond the hammer and anvil here?"

"Oh, there's not much question there. Why do you need to develop fertilizers when the average parish priest can do the same thing with a blessing?"

Father Al nodded. "I'll have to worm the wording of the prayers out of him, to see whether it's the prayer that does it, or die charm."

"So you can know which Power is working?"

Father Al nodded. "Increasing crop yields isn't exactly what we mean by 'small miracles happening everywhere.'

"Like medical technology? It sounds as though he can cure arthritis, though he doesn't know it by that name. Our own doctors can't do much better. I'd imagine the same kind of thing's happening in all areas of technology."

Father Al nodded again. "Smiths producing case-hardened alloys by singing to the metal as they pound it; carriages riding smoothly, cushioned by spells instead of steel leaves, perhaps even spell-propelled; ships communicating with sh.o.r.e by crystal b.a.l.l.s... Yes, why bother inventing anything?"

"But," said Rod, "magicians being rare, the average man couldn't afford battle-spells; so martial power remained an aristocratic monopoly. Which meant..."

"That the political system remained essentially feudal." Father Al's smile grew hard. ' "Though, with wizards provid-ing kings with efficient communications, and even intelligence abilities, there's a chance centralized governments may have evolved."

"But never terribly absolute," Rod noted. "The barons could get wizards, too. So they'd think of themselves as 'Christendom' as much as separate countries."

"Not much nationalism," Father Al agreed. "But how would the New World have been colonized?"

Rod shrugged. "No problem; Columbus came over shortly after the Wars of the Roses, and the Vikings set up a colony before him. With wizardry to help them, they shouldn't've had as much trouble with the 'skralings.' "

"The Amerinds, yes. I notice that most of these people are nowhere nearly as pale as Northern Europeans of the period."

"Probably hybrids. And with their shamans' magic added in, you'd have quite an a.s.semblage of magic. But that indicates a big emphasis on trade, which means mercantilism. How come there's no rise of the middle cla.s.s?"

"There probably was, to a point. But the kings and barons would've entrusted fund-raising to their wizard-advisers, who, being probably of common birth, could partic.i.p.ate in trade for them. No, I'd guess the 'merchant princes' were princes. And trade not being their means to rise, they wouldn't push its development as hard."

Rod spread his hands. "But-fifteen hundred years! Could a society really last that long, without changing?"

"Well, there was ancient Egypt-and the Chinese Empire. Dynasties changed, and styles; technology even improved a little, from time to time-but the society remained the same. And, come to think of it, India, before the Mongols... You know, Europe may have been the exception, not the rule, with its changing society."

Rod shook his head in wonder. "All because they started being able to make magic work! What do you think was the dividing point-the alchemists?"