out one hand to the closest colony of moss ?a luxur iant blue clump on the asphalt. I said:
'Burn!'
The Power flowed through me, only I held back the pressure. The moss didn't burn up immediately. It swelled up and started growing, trying to process this free dose of energy. But the Power increased, and the moss couldn't cope. It started turning grey and drying up ... and finally it burst into flames.
Now I could see it. When you know exactly what to look for, everything becomes extremely clear.
The Power scattered through space, the vital energy given out by human beings, drained into the twilight unevenly. Yes, it constantly seeped through the fabric of the universe, down to the first level, the second, the third... but somewhere in the region of the Dungeons there was a gaping hole ?and there was a constant stream of Power gushing down into it. As if someone had cut a hole in a piece of cloth through which water normally filtered slowly...
Too much food for a brainless parasite. The moss crept towards the tourist attraction, attracted by both the stream of Power and the emotions of the frightened customers. It crept up close ?and then dried up.
I thought I could understand why Foma Lermont had chosen this precise spot to open his attraction. All this energy flowing into one place had to be concealed from rank-and-file Others. The excessive free Power here could be attributed to tipsy tourists, frightened children, the endless carnival that was Edinburgh...
I wouldn't have been surprised to learn that Foma had put a lot of effort into popularising Edinburgh for just one reason: to conceal this spot.
Even Light Ones sometimes have dark secrets. It can't be helped.
I walked slowly uphill along one of the streets leading to the Royal Mile. It wasn't a very touristy kind of street. Dark, with the only light coming from the windows. All the shops on it were closed. But it had to lead straight to my hotel. I was feeling desperately sleepy. Maybe I ought to take a taxi after all? But it was only a ten-minute walk...
I turned in to a narrow street between the houses and found myself in something between a small square and a large court yard. I walked over to a small monument, only one metre high, in the roadway. There was a bronze parrot sitting on a stone chalice with a thin stream of water flowing from it ?it was either an undersized street fountain or a drinking-water fountain. Lighting my cigarette lighter to examine the plaque below the parrot, I learned that this fountain had been erected by the inhabitants of the city in memory of a beloved parrot who had died of pneu monia at a very advanced age...
Something clicked behind me and I felt a powerful jolt in my shoulder. So powerful that I had to take several steps forward to avoid falling face down in the chalice of water.
Something hot trickled down my back
What the hell?
There was another click and something ricocheted loudly off the bronze bird. The hot bullet hissed as it fell into the water, finally convincing me that I had almost been killed beside the parrot fountain.
Someone was shooting at me!
At me, an Other!
A Higher Magician.
Who could destroy palaces and raise up cities with a wave of my hand!
Well, all right, the cities are a bit of an exaggeration ?breaking down is always easier than raising up.
Squirming in my hiding place behind the fountain, I looked hard into the darkness. No one. Okay, how about through the Twilight?
The result astounded me.
The shots had clearly come from the side street next to the one that had led me to the fountain. But I couldn't see anyone, either human or Other!
At least it was only a flesh wound. The bullet had passed straight through the soft tissues. I had stopped the bleeding in a reflex response, within a second. Now I could recall a couple of good healing spells to knit the damaged muscles back together.
Another shot ?the bullet passed over the top of my head and a wave of heat tousled my hair. The soft sound suggested that the gun must have a silencer. The fact that they hadn't killed me yet suggested that they were firing from a pistol, and firing very well, or from a sniper's rifle, and extremely badly.
But why couldn't I see the gunman?
I waved my hand and spread a five-minute Morpheus spell over the entire street. Then, after