Holmland scramble. The rogue sorcerer was perfectly positioned, standing on the road outside the gates of his cliff- top retreat. Aubrey swallowed, acutely conscious that all his spellwork and preparation had led to this: he had one chance to remove Dr Tremaine and put an end to his warmongering. A careful, steady squeeze of the trigger and it would all be over.
A sound came from behind him. Aubrey tensed, then forced himself to relax. Von Stralick was sleeping comfortably since his fever had broken.
Aubrey waited a moment, but when all was quiet he wiped sweat from his forehead with a finger and looked to re-centre his sights.
In the long nights tending to von Stralick and thinking about how to end the war, Aubrey had come to understand, with more than a little reluctance and with a great deal of conscience-searching, that he had to put aside the misgivings he had about firearms. It was the best method he had – the only method he had – to do what was needed.
It was time to shoot Dr Tremaine with a very special projectile.
A standard bullet wasn’t going to stop the rogue sorcerer; Aubrey had seen him walk away after being shot at close range. Something extraordinary was called for and Aubrey had devoted himself to it.
Trapped in the cave and tending to the dangerously ill von Stralick, Aubrey had brought together all his thinking about magic, all of the reading, experimenting and theorising, to construct the complex array of spells which had replaced the bullet in the sole cartridge they had. This magic was some of the most intricate that he’d ever attempted, merging elements from a number of wildly different spells he’d worked with in the past. Hour after hour, in between tending von Stralick, he’d taken apart compression spells, intensification spells, amplification spells, spells that juggled aspects of Familiarity, Entanglement, Attraction, combining them and recombining them, splicing, reworking until he was able to construct a spell-ridden object smaller than his fingernail, but as deadly as anything he’d ever created.
Much of the spell was based on his study of the transformed Beccaria Cage that was now armouring his body and soul against premature separation. He’d also incorporated characteristics of the ensorcelled pearl that had been both a refuge and prison for Dr Tremaine’s sister, Sylvia. The result was a highly compressed binding spell, overlaid with homing spells to counter any misalignment in the old Oberndorf or in Aubrey’s aiming.
When the spell struck its target, Dr Tremaine would be caged in a magical prison, a prison that combined the strengths of the Beccaria Cage and the Tremaine Pearl. The prison would be unleashed, capture its target, then it would compress itself and its contents until it was the size of a marble. The entanglement spell would activate, and the prison would be reeled in, landing back with Aubrey. Dr Tremaine would be imprisoned, neutralised, and he could be brought to Albion for trial.
All Aubrey had to do was to squeeze the trigger. One shot and he could go home and restore his name, knowing the Holmland war effort would collapse without Dr Tremaine’s guiding hand. It would all be over.
Ignoring second thoughts, doubts and qualms, he settled himself in his prone position. He regripped the rifle, making sure it was stable on the flat rock he was using as a firing platform. He found Dr Tremaine with the sighting post and adjusted until it was aligned with the notch. He took a breath, let it out slowly, then drew in another and held it.
The war was about to end.
4
Aubrey blinked. his head hurt. this was odd for, as far as he knew, a moment ago it hadn’t.
A few other things had changed as well. For one, he thought he’d been staring at Dr Tremaine through the sights of a rifle, but now he was staring up at the shadowy ceiling of the cave. ‘The rifle.’ Von Stralick’s voice came from nearby. ‘It blew up.’
‘Blew up?’
‘You have blood on your cheek.’
‘And egg on my face?’ Aubrey sat up, which transformed his head into a paragon of pure, thundering pain. He stifled a groan and put both hands to his temples. His gaze stumbled across the cave entrance. The carefully constructed firing platform had fallen apart, and what had been the Oberndorf rifle lay in pieces on the stones.
‘Here.’ Von Stralick held out a mug of water. He was still pale, but the half-mocking smile that had been missing during his illness was back.
‘What happened?’ Aubrey asked.
‘Most peculiar, it was.’ With a grunt, the Holmlander sat on a rock next to Aubrey. ‘I saw you squeeze the trigger, then the rifle burst apart without a sound. The barrel flew back and struck you on the forehead.’
‘Ah.’ Aubrey considered this. ‘Remind me to use a brand new rifle if I ever try this again. One that is a little less rusty would be useful.’
Von Stralick shrugged. ‘When I stole it from that farmhouse, I felt that beggars could not afford to be choosers, as you Albionish so delightfully say.’ He brushed the knee of his trousers for a moment. ‘You were trying to kill Dr Tremaine?’
It was Aubrey’s turn to shrug. ‘I wanted to bring him to trial.’
‘By shooting him?’
‘It was a magic spell.’
Von Stralick listened without interrupting until Aubrey finished explaining, then he rose, somewhat shakily, and went to the cave entrance. He stood in the shadows and gazed toward Dr Tremaine’s estate. ‘When I first met you, Fitzwilliam, I was sure you were of little account. You have, however, forced me to revise my opinion.’
‘And this is a good thing, I take it?’
‘You have surprising capabilities. Dr Tremaine would do well to be most wary of you.’
‘I doubt he gives me much thought at all.’
‘You should hope so. It could mean that you may be able to take him by surprise.’
5
For three frustrating days, while von Stralick gathered his strength under Aubrey’s care and while Aubrey did his best to concoct a replacement plan, Dr Tremaine’s estate was even more a hive of action than it had already been. Lorries arrived in convoys, backed up to the outbuildings and were loaded up before grinding their way down the mountain again. Aubrey made careful note of these deliveries; he estimated the volumes of the packing crates and made particular count of the coils of wire that were delivered – dozens of them, each the height of a man. He also was intrigued by dispatches – furniture and equipment were shipped out of the estate, but also personnel. Exasperated-looking civilians were herded into the backs of lorries, but also many of the muzzled magical theoreticians. Even while itemising each departure, Aubrey was intensely irritated by not knowing how many of these people were present when he arrived at the Tremaine estate. How could he determine how many were still there?
Dr Tremaine came and went twice before von Stralick announced he was fit for action. That, of course, was a matter of definition, for von Stralick’s belt was two notches smaller, and his skin was greyish rather than radiating good health.
‘We need a foray,’ the Holmlander said as night fell. The customary chill was in the air as soon as the sun disappeared. ‘It is most necessary.’
Aubrey was once again lying on his stomach at the cave entrance, using binoculars to monitor a late lorry departure. Filing cabinets had been loaded into it from the main house which, to Aubrey’s mind, didn’t bode well. ‘I’m keen to find out exactly what’s going on in those outbuildings, but only if you’re fit enough.’
‘I am recovered sufficiently, and if I don’t set foot outside this cave I am likely to go mad.’ Von Stralick did a few arm stretches. ‘And I am not the only one.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
