King’s Study
The room was a clutter of bookshelves, strange artifacts, alchemistic paraphernalia, and other oddments. A large astronomer’s orrery sat on a table in one corner of the room. Star charts lined the walls in that area. A large, detailed globe of the world occupied another corner.
He sat at a table that held a number of curious instruments constructed of wood and metal. He scrutinized one in particular, a box with a window through which a copper needle could be seen. He observed the position of the needle on a calibrated scale and made a notation with a quill pen. His attention shifted to another device, this one a glass globe, inside which hung two pieces of metal foil joined at one end. He noted the extent of their separation, dipped the point of the quill in an inkwell and scratched more numbers on a sheet of foolscap. He turned then to a third device, a loom of interwoven strings threaded with hundreds of small colored beads which clicked and clacked as he manipulated them, singly and in groups. He did this for a good while, then ceased and contemplated the results. He recorded more data, taking careful readings from each of the instruments. A candle on the table burned steadily, limning his face in soft shadows. A film of fine sweat sprang to his forehead as he worked. Several sheets of foolscap, acrawl with numbers and symbols, fell to the floor in quick succession.
Finally he put down the quill and mopped his brow with a kerchief he had taken from inside his gown. Bearing the last sheet of foolscap, he rose from the table and crossed the room to a low multitiered desk. On it sat a personal computer with a compact keyboard terminal, a color CRT, a twin floppy-disk deck, and a hard-disk drive. He seated himself and made a simple hand pass. The screen came to life, showing an AO> prompt. With quick accurate strokes he punched a series of keys, then waited for the screen to go through an elaborate display of graphic pyrotechnics.
“Damned showy off-the-shelf software,” he muttered.
Using his right index finger, he traced another pattern in the air, observed the results on the screen, made another hand pass. Then, with his eyes on the sheet of figures, he entered data on the keyboard.
When he had completed data entry, he punched a few more keys, sat back, and let the program run.
A line of figures came up on the screen. He read it.
“Impossible,” he said. “But there it is. Now all I have to do is locate it.”
He commenced a set of elaborate hand motions, accompanying these with a low, monotonous chanting. Presently the CRT screen began to glow spectrally. Milky images ghosted across it, gradually sharpening. Voices. At length the picture focused to unmistakable clarity.
Completing the incantation, he regarded the faces on the screen. None were familiar, although that was not unusual. He would have to observe for some time, he supposed, before he could act. He had no idea, now, what he would do, if anything.
He positioned himself more comfortably in the chair. He watched, and listened.
Lower Levels
“I’m just not strong enough,” Linda was saying. “She’s frighteningly powerful. I could tell.”
Gene said, “I think you’re right about her being up to some kind of dirty work. No telling what. It must have something to do with that jewel, though.”
“Well, we can rule out stealing it. So she must want to tap the thing’s power.”
“Obviously,” Jacoby said.
“To do what?” Gene wondered.
Jacoby’s smile was strange. “To do anything she wants to do.”
“She’s in cahoots with the besiegers, that’s for sure,” Gene said. “So, it might have something to do with completing the final takeover of the castle.”
“She wants to take control of the jewel,” Linda said. “To take control away from Lord Incarnadine.”
“A good guess,” Gene said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve hit it right on the head.” He looked around, then pointed to the intersection of tunnels up ahead. “I’m pretty sure that’s the corridor we were in when the big cats hit.”
“Let’s face it,” Linda said. “We’re lost again.”
Jacoby let out a long sigh. “Oh, dear, I must sit down.” To no avail he searched the corridor for something to sit on.
“It’s just a little farther,” Gene said.
It wasn’t. They stopped to rest again, sitting down in the middle of the bare stone passageway.
“I don’t know how long it’s been since I slept,” Gene said, then yawned.
“Don’t start!” Linda said. But she caught it too.
A low rumbling sounded. The floor shook, and the walls seemed to become rubbery and pliant. It lasted for about twenty seconds, then stopped.
“No telling what that was all about,” Gene said.
Linda looked off, as if hearing or perhaps sensing something.
“Funny,” she said.
“What?” Gene asked.
“I’m beginning to develop a sixth sense, or something like it. She’s started whatever it is she’s up to.”
“Yeah? Any idea of what she’s doing?”
“Something magical. Probably putting a spell on that big jewel.”
“Maybe she wants to have it set in a nice eighteen-carat gold ring.”
“Or maybe …”
“Yeah?”
Linda shook her head. “I’m not sure. I get the sense that she’s going to destroy something, or undo something.” She drew her knees up and wrapped her arms about them. She looked off again. “Maybe the rock is more important than the jewel.”
Gene said, “Look, if you’re getting all these psychic vibrations, you should be able to get us back to the Brain room.”
Linda cocked a thumb over her shoulder. “I know it’s in that direction. But I don’t know what tunnel will get us there.”
“Oh. Kwip, how about taking a little jaunt through this wall and seeing what’s on the other side?”
“Aye,” Kwip said, getting up. He disappeared into the wall.
“Still can’t get over that,” Gene said, rising. “Christ, this floor is colder than a witch’s — well, whatever.”
“You’d better watch what you say, pal,” Linda said.
“Sorry.”
“You’ll get so bewitched, you won’t know —”
Kwip came striding out of the wall, shaking his head.
“Tis naught but solid stone. I began to feel a mite strange, so I turned about.”
Gene let himself fall back against the wall. “Hell.” He yawned again. “When the hell is my turn? I gotta get me some magic soon.”
“I thought you had it,” Linda said.
“You kidding? See me doing anything enchanting here?”
“No, I meant the way you sword-fought.”
Gene laughed. “You gotta be pulling my leg. Why, I barely —”
“I caught glimpses of your bladecraft,” Kwip said. “You gave a good account of yourself.”
“Against a professional soldier,” Linda said. “Gene, did you ever take fencing, or any kind of military training?”
“Never. Never handled a sword in my life.”
