we’ve a lot to do!”
Oh, Saint Snodgrass. He didn’t want to see inside another one of those domes. He knew, he just knew, that as bad as Lional was, he wasn’t the worst.
What if I just stand here and dig my heels in, like a mule…
“Professor,” said the other Gerald. The glitter was back in his eyes. “Did your sideways leap through the portal scramble your memory? Ottosland isn’t exactly short of housekeepers. So unless you fancy writing me up a good Positions Vacant notice…?”
Melissande. He could still feel her dreadful fear, a choking constriction in his throat. That shadbolt was capable of inflicting the most horrendous pain… “I’m coming,” he said, his voice thick. “There’s no need for threats.”
The other Gerald raised an eyebrow. “Actually, there is. You’d be surprised how dim some people can be.” He held out his hand. “Come on, Bibbie. And you, Professor-keep up.”
As they headed for the next dome a huge shadow flitted over them. Gerald tipped his head back and stared at the sky, to see a sleek and streamlined airship gliding high above. The cloud cover briefly parted, and its silver and scarlet skin shone brilliantly in the sunshine, which bounced brightly off the “ Guns? ” he said, grabbing at the other Gerald’s arm. “You’ve got guns on airships? Are we-is your city-under attack?”
Halting, the other Gerald looked at him. “Let go.”
With a yelp he snatched his fingers free and leaped aside. Soundlessly, no hint at all, his counterpart had surged something sharp through his etheretic aura. He shook his hand, fingers stinging. “Answer the question. Is there trouble? Is Ottosland at war?”
“Blimey, was I really this much of an alarmist?” the other Gerald mused. “I didn’t think so-but how embarrassing if I was. No, Professor, Ottosland isn’t at war. I’m just a big believer in an orderly society.”
You mean a terrified society. But with Melissande hostage to his good behavior he didn’t say it, just in case. “Oh,” he said instead. “Well. That’s good to know.”
“Isn’t it?” said his counterpart, showing his teeth in a smile, and slid an arm around Bibbie’s shoulders. “Because there’s nothing like sleeping safely at night.” He kissed Bibbie’s cheek. “Is there, Bibs?”
She shook her head fervently. “Nothing.”
“And believe me, Professor,” the other Gerald added, “there’s nothing I won’t do to make sure things stay that way.”
“Oh, I believe you, Gerald,” he said. “I mean, I have to, don’t I? If I can’t tell when I’m being sincere, who can?”
“Exactly,” said his counterpart, and laughed. “On we go, then-and let’s not have any more interruptions or you’ll miss out on some of the best exhibits. And you wouldn’t want that, Professor. Would you?”
Are you kidding? I’d love it. “No, Gerald,” he said obediently. “I wouldn’t at all.”
Far too soon they reached the next opaque dome.
“Now,” said the other Gerald, “here’s another really useful object lesson.” He snapped his fingers, and the obscuring mist before them began to dissolve. “I like to call this one You Do Have A Choice. Because he did. He really did. Didn’t he, Bibbie?”
Bibbie smoothed down her short, sleek hair. “Yes, he did, Gerald. And he made the wrong one.”
“And d’you know, I was pretty bloody reasonable,” said the other Gerald, sounding aggrieved. “I gave him three chances to join me. It was a damned nuisance he’d been shadbolt-proofed, I can tell you.”
With an effort he kept his face blank. A nuisance. Yes. I mean, Saint Snodgrass forbid you should ever be inconvenienced. Then, as he opened his mouth to say something that could be interpreted as supportive, the last of the obscuring mist melted… and he saw who the other Gerald was whining about. He saw, he heard, he smelled… and his mind and body rebelled, recoiling in horror.
Oh. Oh-good lord. No. No-no-no He heaved up his half-digested fried eggs and bacon in a splattering mess, all over the parade ground’s pristine flagstones.
“What?” said the other Gerald, surprised, his voice raised above the steady crackling and the terrible screams. “Do you know him? Really? That’s… unexpected.”
Gerald dragged his sleeve across his foul-tasting mouth. Don’t look again. Don’t look. Turn away. But he couldn’t. He owed it to Sir Alec-even a Sir Alec who’d never met him, or fought for him-to bear witness to this most despicable act.
The other Gerald muted the awful sounds. “It’s a pretty ingenious incant, even if I do say so myself,” he said. “I wish I could take full credit for it, but I can’t. It’s what you might call a joint effort. I dreamed it up, but Monk’s the one who made it work. Y’know, I might be the world’s most powerful wizard but Saint Snodgrass’s bunions — he’s its greatest inventor and thaumaturgical technician. What I wouldn’t give to have his kink in the brain.”
He could taste blood in his mouth, he was biting his lip so hard. And what I wouldn’t give to be completely blind and deaf and senseless right now. For a moment he thought he’d be sick again, but somehow he managed to keep his stomach where it belonged.
“It is a bit gruesome, though,” said Bibbie, sounding petulant. “I do wish you wouldn’t keep making me come back to see it.”
“Well, of course it’s gruesome, Bibbie,” said the other Gerald. He sounded miffed. “It’s supposed to be gruesome. What kind of an object lesson would it be if it didn’t make you want to claw out your eyes, stuff corks in your ears and shove cotton plugs up your nose?”
“Well… yes,” said Bibbie, unconvinced. “I know. You’re right. I suppose.”
“And I thought you were proud of me for thinking this one up,” the other Gerald added. “You said you were proud. You said you thought it was fantastic.”
“I do, I do think it’s fantastic,” Bibbie protested. “Only a genius could’ve dreamed this up. But I’m sensitive, Gerald, and this must be the fiftieth time I’ve seen it. Fifty times. Isn’t that enough?”
As his counterpart and Bibbie launched into a bitter bickering match, he made himself face what they’d done to Sir Alec. Looking at him not only with his one good eye, but with his sharply honed thaumaturgic senses, too.
If I can see how the incant’s put together maybe I can break it. Maybe I can set the poor bastard free.
Because what this world’s Gerald and Monk had done, between them, was imprison their Sir Alec within an infinite temporal loop. Chained to a stake, surrounded by ignited oil-soaked wood, enigmatic, mysterious and oddly compassionate Sir Alec was burning alive. Worse, he was trapped in the last hideous heartbeats before death that now, thanks to Monk’s genius, stretched on and on to infinity. A death without end. A death lasting forever.
They show this to children. They make children see this. How can I help him? I can’t help him. I don’t want to. I want him to die.
Through blinding tears he battled to understand the construction of the incant. He’d never encountered anything like it, a combination of the darkest magic he’d ever tasted and his own potentia warped almost beyond recognition, shot through with Monk’s inimitable, irrepressible thaumic signature.
How could you, Monk? How could you do this?
And then he felt a rough hand on his shoulder, shaking him. “Oh, for pity’s sake, Professor! Now you’re crying? What are you, a girl? Even Bibbie’s not boo-hooing. Who is this Sir Alec to you, that you’d give a toss that he’s dead?”
It was no good. He couldn’t begin to break this incant. Not here and now, anyway. Probably not ever. Pulling away from the other Gerald, he dried his face on his sleeve.
“But he’s not dead, is he? Gerald-”
“He tried to kill me!” the other Gerald shouted. “All right? This isn’t murder. It’s self-defense. It’s justice. When someone tries to kill you-”
“You have them arrested!” he cried. “You don’t-you don’t-”
“What, like you had Lional arrested?” retorted his counterpart. “Really? You’re going to stand there on your high horse and lecture me with your Lional’s blood all over your hands?”
He shook his head. “That was-”
“If you say different, sunshine, I’ll bloody knock you on your ass!” said the other Gerald. “Besides, I told you, I gave Sir Alec three chances. I was prepared to forgive him for trying to kill me-if he’d join me. But he wouldn’t. And like I said, I couldn’t shadbolt him. So Gerald, I’m telling you, he brought this on himself. And now I’m tired of
