The Sorcerer's House Read Free Page A

house. (I keep finding more rooms and more broken windows.) I learned quite a bit in the woodshop and on the maintenance crew, and I have always been handy. When I get it fixed up, I will probably sell it or at least put it on the market. Meanwhile, I have this big house with running water, and I am doing all I can to get the electricity turned back on. It is hard with no money--I am sure you must know all about that. But my allowance will be along soon.
    You will be welcome anytime you get out.
    Yours sincerely,
    Bax

Number 4
F ISHERMAN ' S L UCK

    Dear George:

    This is written largely to clear my mind, but it gives me an opportunity to mention an unfortunate deficiency that I should have brought up in my previous letter.
    You may have been trying to reach me by e-mail, no doubt because you want certain points clarified before you undertake the highly profitable investment I recommended. I no longer have my trusty laptop, George. I was compelled to put it in pawn to pay my rent at the River-man. Thus far--I am not complaining--no means has appeared by which I might reclaim it. Soon, I hope.
    Meanwhile, you may reach me via snail mail. Within the week, perhaps, I will have a telephone; but of what use is that to us when youwill no longer speak to me? (Should you abrogate your boorish resolution, allow me to recommend Directory Assistance. At present, I do not know my number.)
    Now to the principal business at hand.
    George, I find myself in possession of a fascinating apparatus. I do not know what it is or what purpose it may serve, and yet it must
have
a purpose--someone went to great deal of trouble to make it.
    You may recall the young prowler I surprised in this house. Yesterday it occurred to me that the candleholder and candle he had dropped might be of use, and I went to find them. As I was looking (it was already dark, so that I had to search by flashlight), I recalled that he had been carrying something else as well. Then that he had appeared empty-handed when he fled to the window. Had he dropped that, too? As it transpired, he had.
    It is of some yellow-brown metal I believe must be tarnished brass or bronze. Its frame (as I style it to myself) is perhaps ten inches by ten. (The width of my thumb, George, is my measure for one inch. I measured it in that fashion just now, having it before me as I write.)
    Within this frame are three concentric rings. In the center is a disk graved with a sort of arrow or pointer. One may move the rings independently for the most part, though at times the movement of one occasions the movement of another. At first I thought they were merely catching or sticking, but the movement is sometime retrograde. The pointer can be moved independently of all three, but at times moves of itself. If I were forced to guess--and I am--I would guess that the rings contain hidden magnets to which the pointer responds when they are aligned. This seems anything but likely, I confess; but I can think of nothing better.
    On both sides, the frame, rings, and pointer are scribed with strange glyphs. There are stars of various kinds, shaded circles that may represent the phases of the moon, a horned skull, and a great many more that I could scarcely sketch, far less describe. Some may be indecent. Some appear menacing.
    Today I carried it to the pawnshop on Broad Street, that being the only establishment in town that might, I thought, be interested in sucha thing. The graybeard who operates the shop examined it carefully, as I wished, and at last made an offer which I declined.
    It was not because the paltry price he suggested meant nothing to me; on the contrary, those meager dollars would have bought beans and bananas enough to keep me fed until my allowance arrived. Two considerations moved me, both strongly. The first was that I feel quite confident the apparatus I have described is worth thousands. And the second (which you will already have anticipated) was that the apparatus is not mine. What if