the second into the path of the light. A slender beam separated from the rest and darted across the rooftop to engulf the vial in brilliance.
'We risk enough, Alodar,' Saxton said. 'Let us try the next batch instead and take our chances within the confines of the art.'
'But a moment,' Alodar said. 'I do not mix the crafts so much as use them in complement to one another. You need intensity and by no skill of alchemy can you make lenses perform better than the grinder has designed them. But the key is the light, not the glass which bends it.'
Alodar did not wait for a reply bat performed his spellbinding and then thrust the hand lens into the second beam's path. He slid it rapidly back and forth and brought the rays into a precise focus on the vial.
'The small glass converges with far more perfection,' he explained, 'and by thaumatugy we can force the larger to do so as well. Look now to the flask and observe how we fare.'
'A sparkling brilliance,' Saxton gasped, and Alodar turned to see the large tube of light converge into a tight point deep in the center of the solution.
Several moments passed in silence, then suddenly the liquid wavered before their eyes. The next bubble out of the tube dimmed from view and the one just leaving the surface left a small crater in its wake.
'It gels,' Saxton shouted. 'My lad, we have ointment on the first try. Yes, of course, we must have sufficient intensity or the ingredients will not interact. But no matter how you did it, let us set up for the second while the luck still points our way.'
Alodar caught Saxton's excitement and hurriedly adjusted the equipment. He fixed the small glass in a clamp and then stood by the first mirror, keeping the moon directly in line as it crested in the sky. In a few moments Saxton had disengaged the first container filled with the glowing ointment and replaced it with a second. He tossed the spent gas generator aside and thrust the tube from another while casting anxious glances at the shimmering brew.
He finished the final glyph and almost instantly the clear solution thickened into the translucent cream. Saxton's eyes widened in wonder. He ran his hand over his head and then gently stroked the side of the flask.
'Two in a row,' he exclaimed. 'The random factors align, Alodar, I can feel it.' He cast the second gas generator aside. Holding the flask high, he dance around the rooftop in exultation. Alodar smiled and started to break the thaumaturgical connection.
Saxton looked at the container he had set aside and then the two standing ready still filled with clear solution. He stopped his celebration, frowned at the knot of brightness where the last flask had been and stared back at the battered chest with small labeled drawers standing nearby.
'Powdered skin of salamander, less than three brandels more,' he muttered and then his face recovered its smile.
'No, Alodar, leave the gear as it is,' he said. 'Run quickly instead into the city and get from Cedric the gold he offered as loan.'
'Back to Ambrosia,' Alodar said puzzled. 'But, Saxton, whatever for? I am as happy as you that the first two produced the ointment, for we can dearly use the time. In less than four hours the moon will set, and sunrise will be but little after. Let us perform the last step twice as you planned and proceed on to the Fumus Mountains.'
'But do you not see,' Saxton ran on excitedly. 'The random factors align. The transition was so dramatic, so emphatic. We are not dealing with chance. All of our trails will succeed tonight, I can feel it. We need not settle for two vials of the ointment when four are ours for the taking. If we double the supply of the skin of the salamander, there will be enough to perform the final step on all four. For a few brandels more we can secure what we need from the royal shop at the head of the Street. Go to Cedric's and maximize our good fortune.'
'But sunrise,' Alodar protested. 'There will not be time enough for it all.'
'We quest, do we not?' Saxton chortled, waving his index finger at Alodar's scowl. 'And with the factors aligned, how can there be failure? I will complete the formula for the two flasks we have prepared while you are gone; when you return two more will be ready to process as well. Away. You may as well secure the powder as stand idly by while I exercise my craft.'
Alodar looked down into the silent street and then toward the heart of the city. 'Very well,' he said, 'I will go. But if the moon gets close to the horizon and I have not returned, follow me with whatever you have of value. We will meet and save time in taking the road north to the mountains.'
'The random factors,' Saxton said as if he did not hear. 'They align and, by the laws, with a formula of great importance. Yes, hurry along, lad. Tonight, we can do no wrong.'
Cedric wrapped his cape tighter and cursed at the bite of the cool breeze. 'Alchemy,' he snorted. 'Only for such a craft would one have cause to tramp about the streets in the middle of the night.'
'As I have explained, warmaster,' Alodar said as he hurried to match the longer stride, 'you need not accompany me to the dwelling of this seneschal. I can rouse him as I did you. Even if his irritation makes all ten brandels the price for the powdered skin, I will not begrudge it.' He looked at the moon already uncomfortably low in the western sky. 'Haste is far more important.'
'If I did not come,' Cedric rasped, 'dawn would find you pounding at his gate.'
Cedric stopped and turned off the street at the next open gateway. Buzzing voices and loud laughter from a dozen sources floated over the wall, and a caped figure staggered against Alodar and lurched into the night. He blinked at the torchlight when he entered the courtyard and stumbled past two more sprawling forms snoring in his way. The area was scattered with small clumps of richly dressed men nodding dutifully at each other's words and waving empty cups at the wine stewards wandering by. In a corner, a dark-haired girl tossed her veils to the rhythm of her small finger cymbals, but no one noticed.
'You come late to lord Dartilac's festivity,' a man in servant's livery said into Cedric's ear, 'And it is not so light that I can recognize you as one of his peers from the court. I do not mean to offend, but have you brought the invitation affixed with his seal?'
'This is my invitation,' Cedric said. He slowly tumbled the ten brandels from their small pouch. 'I must speak with his lordship on a matter which I am sure he will find to his interest. Can you not arrange for such a moment?'
The servant scurried to retrieve the coins and stood up with his face in a smile. He beckoned them to follow and started to weave his way across the courtyard. Against the wall to which they headed, Alodar saw a blond- headed man of middle age holding a goblet in one hand and poking the chest of his listener with the other. The lines of the face twisted in frustration and the blank expression on the recipient of the argument forced each jab to be harder than the last. As Alodar and Cedric approached, the servant coughed and the conversation abruptly halted.
'Lord Dartilac,' Cedric said without waiting. 'I am the one who teaches your son, Dartilon, the use of arms.'
Dartilac set his glass on a bench nearby and frowned. 'I pay you well and on time,' he said. 'I see no reason to call upon me here and at such a time.'
'What you say is most proper,' Cedric said, 'but, as you know, I instruct the sons of many of the lords and learn much that might not otherwise be common knowledge. Lord Cartilon, for example. His son I taught this very day.'
Dartilac picked up his glass and took a cautious sip. 'And what news do you have about the house of Cartilon?' he asked slowly.
'As you know,' Cedric said, 'the queen is most appreciative of the loan of your seneschal to aid in the activations of her formulas from Iron Fist. And Cartilon has in the past always aligned his house with yours, careful to say to all how you aid the flow of coin so necessary in these times of increased peril.'
'And now,' Dartilac repeated, 'what news do you bring?'
Cedric smiled back into the lord's knitting brows. 'Nothing other than what your own speculations might give you,' he said. 'But first a small boon, my lord, as a token of the good faith in which we deal. Your seal on a writ against the royal stores for powder of salamander skin, a few drams, no more. I am sure your steward would honor it, since he knows who ultimately decides his welfare and keep.'
'Salamander skin,' Dartilac said. 'Do you jest? What you know is of little value if such is the price you place on it.'
'I need it before dawn and that makes it more dear,' Cedric replied. 'With your seal I can obtain it from your man as I could no other way.'
