He used his power todetect magic. ‘It passes the second test. It looks inert with themagic eye. Now let’s see if I’m powerful enough to make it dancefor me.’
He closed his eyes andfixed its shape in his mind. He turned the sphere in his mind intoa cube, and then cautiously opened his eyes. In front of him was acube of clay, and across from him was a wide-eyed Zephira.
‘Did you actually dothat with your mind, Aquitain?’ she asked.
‘I think so,’ he said,unsure that he had done it himself. So, he had another go. Thistime he mentally shaped it into a cup with a handle. When he openedhis eyes he saw a cup.
‘By the Powers, I cando it!’ he shouted. ‘I can actually do it. I can bend this stuff tomy will.’
‘That’s awesome. Canyou make it into a blade?’ asked Zephira.
‘I suppose I can.’ hereplied and again concentrated on the clay this time with his eyesopen. The clay responded extending itself out into a blade thenforming a hilt and hilt guard.
Zephira grabbed theblade and swung it around. ‘Beautiful. Just beautiful,’ she said.‘That stuff is amazing. Imagine the possibilities. You can makeanything you ever wanted.’ Just then it reformed into its ballshape and fell out of her hand.
‘Oh. It’s got aproblem. It won’t stay in the shape you want for long. Perhapsyou’ve got to keep mentally concentrating on it to keep it shapedthe way you want it,’ she suggested.
‘You’re right. You getnothing for nothing. When I shape change I have to concentrate onkeeping the new form, and while I concentrate it depletes mysource. If I stop concentrating then my shape reverts to itsprimary Logicon form. I suspect the same will happen with this ballof clay. It’s just another damn way to use up my source. I need abigger source!’
He tried again. Thistime he formed the clay into a wristband, placed it around hiswrist, then waited. Every now and again he thought of it andreinforced it mentally to be a wristband. Five minutes later it wasstill a wristband. ‘There you are, while it’s in contact with meand if I reinforce its shape now and then, it will remain what Iwant it to be.’
‘That’s incredible,’said Zephira.
‘It is isn’t it, but ifI use it then it will effectively use up my source, making itunavailable for other purposes.’
‘There must be sometype of Logicon rule for this type of thing,’ she saidseriously.
‘Something like youcan’t squeeze more magic out of a fat head than is in there in thefirst place,’ she said, and laughed loudly.
‘Laugh all you want,’said Aquitain ‘I hope you find it funny, because I don’t.’
At that moment therewas a knock on the door, and Featherdown asked to come in.
‘Well, did it work?’ heasked.
‘Yes,’ said Aquitain.‘It looks like I must be at least a seventh order mind wizardbecause the chaos matter responds to my mind,’ and he showed theHigh Wizard his new wristband. ‘However, there is a cost; itdepletes my source.’
‘That’s a small costfor something so useful, if you ask me. Anyhow I have the scrolls Iwant translated here. I would appreciate it if you could do the jobas your highest priority.’
‘As you wish, YourExcellency. I will start it right away.’
‘Good,' he said. 'I’llbe back,’ and he left.
‘What are thesescrolls? Are you playing games with the boss now?’ asked Zephiracuriously.
‘I don’t know what’s onthem yet but I suspect they’ll be interesting. I’ll tell you later.Have an ale for me down the inn will you,’ and he ushered her outof the workshop so that he could get started.
‘What a day!’ hethought as he seated himself and unrolled the first scroll.
A few minutes later heestablished that they were definitely written during the GreatStorm. They gave no indication of how it started, but did describea terrible period of four months that the writer spent confined ina cave. The writer described how the sky darkened in the middle ofone fine day and stayed dark while lightning and firestorms lit thesky for endless days. After a while it had snowed, and after thatremained freezing. The writer had never finished the last scrolland Aquitain assumed that he or she had perished.
Featherdown returned acouple of times while Aquitain was working on the translation,reading the completed parts and suggesting possible meanings forwords that Aquitain didn’t understand. At the end he congratulatedAquitain, asked him to keep all that he had learnt to himself, andleft.
Aquitain was now quiteperplexed. He couldn’t work out whether Featherdown trusted him ornot. Maybe Jaztrix was right. Maybe the High Wizard trusted nobody,and everybody here lived under continual scrutiny. He didn’t likeit, and felt that after he learnt as much about shape changing ashe could from Quab it would be time to move on and attempt tolocate his father.
Chapter 11 Surprises
Zephira didn’t returnuntil the early hours of the next morning. She was both very happyand very drunk. She banged on his door until he opened it, andstaggered in. ‘Hey Rob. Guess who’s back. He said he came back justto see me again.’
‘Your bard friendChantalot, I would guess,’ said Aquitain. ‘Did he tell you wherehe’s been?’
‘Yes. Some place upnorth,’ she said as she tried to sit on a stool near the mainworkbench. ‘He said I’ve got beautiful eyes.’
‘Which town?’ askedAquitain again.
‘I don’t know. Does itmatter.’
‘Perhaps,’ he said.‘Where does the bard live when he’s here?’
‘He’s got a room in theinn of course. He gets it for free.’
‘I think you'd betterget some sleep and try to keep sober. I’ve got a feeling we mightneed to move on soon.’
‘Great!’ she yelled.‘Let’s go and have a fight somewhere. I need some practise. Thesebastards here are hopeless. I think you’re right. I’ll get somesleep.’ And she staggered off.
Rob picked up Alphachanged to his Logicon form, collected his body shell and left fora walk. As he passed the Inn he dropped Alpha on the ground. Like aspider it scurried across the ground and up the Inn wall for alittle eavesdropping. It took about five minutes of checking roomsbefore Alpha found the one with the bard and who was with him? Itwas Featherdown!
Alpha relayed theirconversation
