The Incomplete Enchanter

reckless.»

They shook hands like a pair of shame-faced small boys. «What’s the programme now?» asked Shea.

«Well. ahem. I’d like to restore Florimel — that is, to give her a human body. Also, she might not find a person of my years peculiarly congenial. I observe Busyrane is able to assume almost any age he wishes.»

«Ha —» Shea had started to laugh, but stopped, as Chalmers gave him a hurt look. «After all, Harold, what’s so heinous about wishing to be young?»

«It isn’t that, Doc. I just remembered something you said — about amorous adventure having few attractions for a person of your age.»

Chalmers smiled in mild triumph. «You forget that if I succeed in the rejuvenating process, I shall no longer be a person of my age!»

EIGHT

«Good gracious,» said Chalmers. «That’s the second time you’ve wandered off the incantation! Whatever is on your mind, Harold?» Shea stared absently at the big steel cage filling half the laboratory. Into it, with the aid of a pot containing a small fire, they were trying to conjure a dragon — one dragon. «Nothing much,» he replied, «except I’m wondering about This flock of bogeymen that’s due to show up for the meeting tomorrow.»

It was only half the truth. Shea had not given up his idea of a grand assault on the place and the capture of all the enchanters at once. The previous evening, without telling Chalmers, he had been out to look over the ground.

At the precise point where the gate began to fade from view, with rocks and trees on the other side of the building showing through it, he stopped and took careful bearings on the nearby landmarks. He chuckled internally over the thought that these invisible castles wouldn’t be practical if the people of Faerie knew a little elementary surveying. Then he wedged the gate open with a small stone and slipped off among the trees.

There he cautiously whistled the tune Belphebe had taught him. No result. He went through it a second time and a third, wondering how long it would be before his absence were noticed. He was just about to give up when he saw a unicorn, apparently the same one Belphebe had ridden, peering from behind a tree. It sniffed suspiciously before coming forward to mouth one of the maple-sugar lumps.

Shea wrote:

DEAREST BELPHEBE: We are at Busyrane’s castle. It lies about two hours’ ride along the road from the place where we got away from he Da Derga. Looks like a hut till you turn off the road east and follow a track till you get to a big oak tree, the biggest in the neighbourhood, in line with a hill that has a round top. Then you can see the castle. Could you arrange to be in the neighbourhood in about forty-eight hours? I’ll call the unicorn at that time and if you’re riding it, will see you. Be careful about the magicians, will you?

H.S.

He impaled the note on the unicorn’s horn and shooed the animal away. Now, he thought, if I make a break from the castle. I’ll have a guide. If I don’t, at least I’ll see her again — That was last night. During the morning, he was more and more nervous and preoccupied, and now for the second time he had wandered from the incantation he and Chalmers were trying to work. «Nothing much,» he had answered Chalmers’ inquiry. Chalmers glanced at him shrewdly and hummed:

«Heighdy! Heighdy!

Misery me, lackadaydee!

He sipped no sup, and he craved no crumb,

As he sighed for the love of a layde!»

Shea looked at his partner sharply, but Chalmers expression was bland. How much did he suspect?

But Chalmers was wrapped up in the task. «Now,» he said, «let’s try again. ‘By Fafnir and Python, Midgardsormr and yang —’» the incantation rolled out. The smoke from the fire in the cage thickened, and the amateur enchanters went on, ready to yell the counterspell Chalmers had worked out if the thing got out of hand.

It was a variant on the original dragon spell, with wording and preparations slightly changed. There was a shrill metallic hiss and a minor convulsion in the smoke. The incantation stopped. The incantators stood gauping.

They had produced a dragon all right. One dragon, not a hundred. But this dragon was ten inches long, with bat wings and a prominent sting on the end of its tail, it breathed fire.

The bars of the cage had been made strong enough to hold a dragon of conventional size. But this little horror fluttered up to them, squeezed through, and flew straight at the experimenters.

«Yeow!» yelled Shea, as a blast of flame from its jaws singed the hair off the back of his hand. «Awk!» shrieked Chalmers as the sting got him in the ankle. They tumbled over each other and dashed around the laboratory, Shea brandishing his epee and Chalmers swinging a pestle. The dragonlet dodged past them and flew through the door into the corridor. There was a rustle and a heavy clank.

Shea went down the corridor. He came back with his face a trifle white.

«The cockatrice looked at it,» he said, and held out a perfect stone dragon, ten inches long.

«Put it down,» said Chalmers gloomily. He hobbled around, looking for something to put on his stung ankle. «Damnation, Harold, if there were only some way to control these things quantitatively —»

«I thought that was it,» replied Shea. «What went wrong to give us that animated blowtorch?»

«I don’t know. The only. uh. certitude is that we got our decimal point off again. We got point oh oh oh one dragon instead of a hundred dragons. I confess, the solution eludes me. The calculus of classes contains no aspect of quantitative accuracy —»

The rest of the day gave them a sea horse three feet long and, after some effort, a cask to put it in; six stuffed owls with blue glass eyes: and finally a large and amiable Tomcat with nine tails. The last experiment found a moon looking in the castle window, so they gave up and went to bed. Chalmers murmured sadly that if he tried to give Florimel a human body in the present state of his knowledge, he’d probably make her into a set of lovely but embarrassing Siamese triplets.

There were noises during the night. Neither slept well till towards morning. When they rose, someone was tapping at their door.

It proved to be along-eared, potbellied imp, who handed them a sheet of parchment, grinned, and sped off down the corridor. Shea and Chalmers read:

Ye Encaunters’Chapter

will meete in Council this daye

in ye great Hall of Castle Busyrane

Arcimage

Maistre Magitian Busyraine

Viceregente

M. M. Dolon

Arciviste

M. M. Courromont

Keeper of ye Moneys

M. M. Voulandour

Ye Fyrst Daye

Addresse of ye Arcimage

M. M. Busyraine

Reading of ye minutes

M. M. Courromont

Report on ye treasurie

M. M. Voulandour

Here will new members be Thought on