needed to know, Augusta. I have learned from what you taught me as well. Your only indebtedness is for the pumps that keep this pit from washing away. Periodic payments to the guild that made them will continue for many years. But you are aggressive, Augusta, always hungry for more, speculating to the limit and holding back barely enough to transfer the sums when they are due.'
Trocolar sucked in his breath and raced on. 'Know that I am your new debtholder, Augusta. I paid a premium for the writ, just as you had done with me. And if I win control of the council, their first act will be to change the laws governing magical items procured by the vaults. Those are too precious to be so capriciously obtained from the guilds. A proper vault should have title to its items of security free and dear. Someone who places his treasures for safekeeping should expect no less. Yes, there will be a change to the laws so that such liens immediately will be due and payable.
'Think of it, Augusta-in a few days it might all be over. In less than a week, you may be a true debtor, unable to pay. Everything you have, including your life, could be mine to do with as I will.'
Trocolar tilted back his head and laughed, his voice bouncing off the walls in booming echoes. Then, with a swirl of his cape, he turned and headed back for the ladder. 'I will count them in the skiff after they are loaded,' he called back. 'Holgon, my magician, has found a potential partner who thinks a few hundred is an impressive sum. Wait until he sees me with some eight thousand more.'
In the gloom, Jemidon saw Augusta's shoulders sag and he ran to her side. 'How serious is his threat?' he asked. 'Can you not pay him from one of the other chests thai are here?'
'The total number of tokens on Pluton is known.' Augusta shook her head. 'And for every credit to an account, there must be a debit elsewhere. These chests are not mine to do with as I please. They belong to many others. And Trocolar's knowledge is accurate. The total of what I owe on the pumps exceeds all that I personally have on account.'
'Then a new partner. A share in future profits for someone to pay what will be due.'
'If Trocolar controls the council, none would dare thwart his intent.' Augusta shook her head again. 'No, now my hope will have to be that Rosimar succeeds sooner than expected. When we return to shore, you must go to him immediately and tell him the increased importance of his endeavors.'
Augusta started to smile bravely at Jemidon, but then stopped abruptly. For a moment she looked away. Finally she turned back and lightly placed her hand on his arm. 'I am sorry,' she said softly. 'You should not be involved. For a single token, it is too much to risk.'
'I will help you if I can,' Jemidon said, 'although my knowledge probably will be of little value.'
'It is more than your knowledge that is bound in my plight,' Augusta said. 'Your writ of indenture was recorded with the rest of the transactions of the day. And such bindings cannot be revoked, regardless of the sum. For the next week, you are one of my assets, Jemidon, part of what I must surrender to a creditor if I cannot pay,' She stroked his arm and finally completed her smile. 'You see, I will have company if Trocolar manages to send me to the cube. It is to your benefit as well as mine to speed Rosimar along the way.'
Jemidon's late evening message to the guild had first been met with resistance. Rosimar had wanted to proceed at his own cautious and methodical pace. But the threat to Augusta had eventually won him over. The preparations for the next phase of the ritual were ready in three days, rather than four.
When Jemidon returned on the third day to monitor the progress, he did so with more than passing interest. Before the trip to the grotto, Augusta's investment in Rosimar's guild had been an idle curiosity-something to stir up old memories of when he was a neophyte, far removed from his pursuit of the sorcerer's robe. But now his focus had been diverted. He could not pursue one art without success in the other. If the remaining errors in the new ritual could be corrected soon enough, Augusta's fortunes would receive a much needed boost. A hundred tokens returned with another hundred as well would more than compensate for Trocolar's missing fees. Her faction might even win the election after all, and then he would have earned his own token and be free to track down Drandor and Delia.
Jemidon looked up and down the length of the huge rectangular hall called the ceremonium that dominated the grounds of the guild. Scattered everywhere was a clutter of apparatus large and small, giant presses, arrays of pulleys and cogs, cascades of vats and piping, cages of exotic beasts, clockworks, balances, and beams. The roof of the structure arched to a giddy height. Through carefully fitted isinglass panels, the morning sunlight flooded the parqueted floor.
Directly in front of where he stood, Jemidon saw the neophytes straining against the huge lever of a ballista and heard the ratchet click another notch. The twisted leather rope grated from the effort. At the far end of the ceremonium was the target, a row of whirling saw blades with teeth sparkling from the diamond dust freshly applied. Behind them were the grindstones, each the width of a barrel and twice the height of a man.
'Much more impressive than delicate tongs and tinkling finger cymbals, is it not?' The lean man next to Jemidon waved at the equipment while the final adjustments were being made. His nose was pinched between close-set eyes. Bony forearms dangled from a robe two sizes too small. Although his face was smooth, his shoulders slumped forward with the posture of an older man. 'The larger guilds boast of innovation, but none of them have dared to take the chance,' he said.
'And if the plate of steel can be split into strips by hurling it against the blades, what then, Rosimar?' Jemidon asked. 'How soon until Augusta receives her return?'
'The mistress of the grotto.' Rosimar's eyes narrowed. 'I am surprised that you would bother again to curry her favor. She uses men like honeypods, discarding the husk after she has sucked them dry.'
'My fate is intertwined with hers,' Jemidon tried to say casually. 'The more that her wealth increases, then the greater is the chance that she will be able to pay me my wage when it is due.'
'One does not have to be a divulgent to know what is at stake,' Rosimar said. 'And she needs the aid of a master magician, not one who failed to garner even an initiate's robe. Many saw Trocolar march off under guard to another vault yesterday evening. The trader's factors align; he has her positioned where she has never been before.'
Rosimar paused and stared at Jemidon. 'And understand that that is the only reason. Understand it well. If Augusta asks for help, I will give my consent. Even if it means a trip through that tiny hellhole to the vault itself. If it is for our future business together, to influence the tally when the leading factions gather for the vote, not to recapture what has gone before.' Rosimar hesitated a second time. 'Besides, she can have no more than a passing interest in you, in any event.'
Jemidon blinked at the sudden tension hiding behind the precisely enunciated words. Evidently Rosimar's feelings for Augusta were still strong. The magician might yet prove to be competition, if he were to succeed with his ritual. Jemidon grimaced as he tried to sort out his thoughts. Augusta and Rosimar. Did that really matter? What of Delia, who still had to be freed? He felt guilty that the image of her golden curls, the sound of her voice, the sense of her brave spirit, all were fading next to the sharpness of Augusta's presence. In the end, which did he want? It was a tangle he could not resolve. Better for now, he decided, to keep the conversation on safer ground.
'Augusta has mentioned that this time the polling will be in the grotto,' Jemidon said. 'On the ledge above the vault. Why not have it instead in some neutral place?'
'No place is neutral on Pluton,' Rosimar said. 'Each is owned by someone who charges for its use. By tradition, the site is rotated among the leading factions, those strong enough to ensure there is no interruption while the counting is going on.'
The magician looked off into the distance for a moment and then shook his head rapidly from side to side. Exhaling deeply, he turned to direct two initiates entering the ceremonium, tugging at the end of a large, woven hose, 'Attach it to the flute at the left,' he said. 'The rest are already connected to the bellows in the outer chamber.'
Jemidon watched the initiates screw tight the flange that bound the hose to the large, hollowed log running by his feet. The whole end of the room was crowded with giant caricatures of musical instruments, triangles thrice the height of a man, harps with strings like hawsers, and double reeds as thick as tabletops. From each device that was powered by air snaked a hose through a doorway lo the rear.
'It is a matter of scale.' Rosimar followed Jemidon's gaze. 'The casual travelers think that the magic guilds must be the focus of Pluton's power, because from them come the tokens upon which all else is based. But they do not know the number of steps it takes to make even a single perfect disk, an intricate ritual requiring months and
