number of monographs the two of us have circulated in the last year, I would say I am more in tune with the true meaning of our law than you. At your zenith you may have discovered some interesting rituals, but I fear you are now far past your prime in productivity and in judgment.'
'If I may interject a few words, most august masters,' one of the other magicians interrupted. 'Master Lectonil, I fear you disparage young Beliac here greatly. He does not compose the ritual elements into magic squares, it is true, but his constructions in three dimensions are made with equal rigor and have produced new objects and lines of research undreamed of just ten years ago.'
'Undreamed of and unwanted,' Lectonil snapped. 'Of what use are twelve elements that seem to fit together into a dodecahedron whole if the result is only a ring that ties one's bootstraps?'
'Now you are most unfair.' Beliac shouted for the first time. 'That ritual was merely the first example. I dare say that the first square produced results no more inspiring. The field is young but in time we will have objects that are totally outside the reach of such well traveled avenues as square construction, be they trimagic, panmagic or symmetric.'
'Masters, if you please,' another rumbled. 'Our ears tire of such discourse. We are here at master Lectonil's calling to decide on the petition to elevate acolyte Duncan to the status of master magician, and we need not hide behind philosophical rhetoric. We can all count. If the majority backs master Beliac's petition, then future councils no longer will be evenly divided. If we vote the proposition down, it indicates clearly that master Beliac no longer can muster sufficient strength to cause deadlock. In either case, the work of the Guild will proceed.'
'The first issue before us, master Zinted,' Lectonil said, 'is the presence of the neophyte. He must be removed and then Beliac must be censured for jeopardizing the secrets of the Guild.'
'By the traces, Lectonil,' Beliac said, 'we have said nothing to compromise our heritage and methods. Look I prove it to you.'
Beliac turned to Alodar and continued his explanation, 'As you may have gathered from our discourse, the making of a magical object is a matter of performing a ritual, a ritual that is perfect in some well defined sense. Possible ritual elements, the ringing of a bell, drawing of a bow and so on all have different ritualistic attributes and numerical values. In our research, we strive to arrange and order these elements in such a way that a perfect sequence is obtained. Such sequences produce objects indeed most magical.
'One such mechanism of arrangement and a successful one, I freely admit, is to order the elements in a square in such a way that certain of the numerical values of their attributes sum in the same way whether considered horizontally, vertically or diagonally. Once these conditions are satisfied, one performs the ritual, taking the elements in sequence row by row.
'Now I have told you much more than you could deduce from what we have said and I will add one thing more. Pluck a hair from master Fulmbar's crown. There, you have performed the first step in a ritual of no mean potency. How do you proceed now?'
'Why I have no idea,' Alodar responded as he drew his hand into the folds of his robe and planted the hair into a second wax doll he had strapped to his waist. 'You have told me some principles but with no instruction on the values of the elements or how to assemble them, I cannot proceed.'
'As is obvious to any with clear wit in this room; he knows less than what one could pick up through idle gossip in the neophyte's tower. I further submit that our decision on Duncan will be common knowledge in the esplanade within the hour in any case. No secret has been revealed by what transpires here, so let us proceed. Besides, master Lectonil, do you wish me time to change further the minds of our assemblage here or do you prefer to have our collective decision recorded so the Guild may proceed?'
'You are ready for the vote on Duncan now, and did not bring this neophyte because of my stand on the ritual of presence?' Lectonil asked.
'As I said, the neophyte is here merely to illustrate my position,' Beliac replied. 'It is to be Duncan first, and if there is no deadlock, then the rest will naturally follow.'
Lectonil twisted his face further but at last waved his arm to begin and said no more. The magician on his left stood and formally stated the resolution before them. At its conclusion, he cast his negative vote and sat down. The counting began to move around the table. Alodar quickly muttered the incantation while the eyes and ears of the assemblage were on each speaker. He broke the small vial of caustic soda from his underbelt into the oil of vitriol and felt the heat begin to rise in his hand. He looked about, but cramped and shielded by Beliac's chair, no one paid him any heed.
Beliac rose and voted, and Alodar began to manipulate the little waxen image. Fulmbar seemed unsteady and awkward as he stood, but the strangeness was lost in the murmur of disbelief that followed his vote.
'What manner of substitution is this?' Lectonil shouted out above the rest. 'You have wavered from time to time surely, Fulmbar, but you assured me not an hour ago that your vote was switched to be mine. It is for that reason alone that I called for the extraordinary session.'
'I have indicated my choice and say no more,' Alodar projected through Fulmbar as he made the magician slump back down onto his chair. The magician in the seat immediately adjacent sprang up and cast his affirmative vote, apparently to insure that Fulmbar would have no change of heart. In a moment the vote was finished, once again a seven to seven tie.
'Well, well,' Beliac chuckled. 'It appears, master Lectonil, that we are back to more individual sessions of persuasion. I suggest that you not call the council to session unless you are more sure that a productive decision will result. Until then, it seems our time will be better spent on research, instruction, and meetings at the usual hours. I wish, however, that you remain a moment, master Fulmbar, so that I may thank you for your enlightened change of heart.'
With no further words, the magicians rose and filed to the exit in the center of the room. Lectonil left last, glaring at his opponent and frowning at the placid figure of Fulmbar at his side.
'And now, neophyte,' Beliac said, 'we must secure master Fulmbar away out of the reaches of Lectonil until I can devise a means of persuading yet another vote.'
'And once we have done that,' Alodar said, 'then might we discuss the matter of the reward for the service I have provided you?'
Beliac eyed Alodar coldly. 'I think that to continue living would be reward enough for your impertinence,' he said.
Alodar opened the outer door to the neophyte tower and felt the refreshing coolness of the evening air. Marching Fulmbar slowly to Beliac's quarters had taken a good hour. Releasing Duncan in his patron's custody and then arguing with the magician had consumed another, though for his own part, Alodar did not feel anxious to press his case. He had learned more than he had hoped from his exploit and saw no point in trying to pry out more.
After he was dismissed from Beliac's presence, Alodar had returned to his lodging and napped into nightfall to melt away the tensions of the afternoon. Now refreshed, he walked slowly along the esplanade. Beliac had bought only a little time with the stratagem, he mused, and sooner or later must own up to what was done to another magician of the Guild. He would be busy enough not to make good any threats for the immediate future. The problem rather was how to gain access to the contents of the library, knowing now what the security measures were.
As Alodar passed the house of the exotic, a sudden flicker of movement caught his eye; as he turned, he heard the crack of glass under a heavy tread. He paused for a second. Then a woman's high scream of terror filled the air. Instinctively, Alodar sprang for the entrance, his brown robe flowing behind.
With a sudden shove, he rocked the huge double doors back on their hinges. The long corridor which transversed the ground floor ran before him, and slowly stomping away from him down the passageway was a huge, green-scaled dragon.
A second scream echoed down the corridor, and Alodar saw, beyond the wyvern's shifting back, the golden curls of Cynthia the initiate. She stood transfixed at the hallway's end, back and palms outstretched against the unyielding wall, looking with terror at the beast which lumbered towards her.
'Hold your courage,' Alodar shouted through a throat still sore from the potion and broke into a run after the two-legged dragon. He reached quickly down to his side for a sword that was not there. 'Curse these robes,' he muttered as he ran.
In an instant he was up to the giant tail that gently swished back and forth with each step. Having no other weapon, he stomped the heel of his boot down upon the rigid spine of scales. The wyvern did not react but
