CHAPTER NINE

The Invisible Circle

III

Iddo had gotten out his wizidex and was peering at it quizzically. He didn’t seem to need to touch the thing to use it; the device simply hovered in the air before his nose, doing… whatever it was doing… Wilburn couldn’t see. Then suddenly he could see as Iddo broadcast his perspective on their private mental channel once again. The wizidex displayed rippling silvery blue water, overlaid with a white grid and a few strings of numbers Wilburn didn’t understand, and in the middle was a small, pulsating red dot.

“Well, isn’t that fascinating…” Iddo said. “According to MagiMaps, we’re at the bottom of the North Orfidic Ocean right now.”

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Buttrom giggled, causing everyone to jump. It was hard to remember he was there most of the time. “Silly me!” the prophet cried, in a wild voice. “I forgot to pack my swimsuit!” He grinned around manically without meeting anybody’s eye. Then he lay down on the floor.

Now there’s a brittle branch, Iddo thought. But he said aloud, “Buttrom, my friend, only a fool clings to sanity in the face of the impossible. The wise exchange their sanity for the truth, because the truth is impossible. The universe is a miracle, and you’re part of that miracle, like it or not, so you might as well embrace the nonsense and become the madman you were born to be. All the best prophets are mad. Everyone says so. The madder the better when it comes to prophets—wouldn’t you agree, Lieutenant Angel?”

“Oh yes,” Alfajean said seriously. “Yes, the madder the better, Buttrom. Master Bungflower is quite right.”

“You’re both insane!” Buttrom shrieked.

“True,” Iddo and all eight of Alfajean’s voices said in unison.

Iddo chuckled. “That’s rather the point I’m trying to make, Buttrom. It’s much easier to fulfill your function in the universe when you quit trying to pretend the universe is something other than it is. But do have it your way, of course—there’s ultimately no other way to have it.”

“I want to go home,” Buttrom moaned.

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