Heart of Gold

by Michael Pryor

  The Holmland spy visibly steeled himself, then put his shoulder to the door. It screeched on rusty hinges and opened onto a narrow corridor. Von Stralick led them to a workshop where tools hung from racks and caught the lantern light. The smell of oil and metal was thick, along with a more unpleasant smell. Aubrey paused on the threshold of the workshop, sensing magic; it had the unique flavour of the Heart of Gold.

  Von Stralick, his face grim, put the lantern on a bench, then reached out and pulled a chain. The room was flooded with harsh light. A ghastly scene was revealed, stark and horrible: two men, a bear, all dead, amid a great deal of blood.

  Aubrey closed his eyes for a moment in an instinctive desire for the awfulness to go away. He felt as if he'd been punched, very hard, in the stomach.

  'Good Lord,' George breathed. He took two ragged steps and leaned against a wall. He covered his mouth with both hands. He didn't take his eyes from the carnage.

  Caroline visibly blanched and Aubrey moved to her side, ready to catch her if she fainted, but she took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. 'I'm sorry,' she said. 'It's the blood.'

  'Me too,' Aubrey said and he was rewarded with a grateful glance.

  Aubrey did his best to study the scene dispassionately, alert to any clues, but he found it hard. Even though Muller and Schnagel were – by von Stralick's accounts – ruthless spies, he wouldn't wish their fate on anyone. Their faces told the story: their deaths had been violent, full of pain and terror.

  'They were like this when you found them?' Aubrey asked von Stralick.

  'Yes. No. I checked to see if they were alive. That was all.' Von Stralick took a deep breath. 'You'll notice it's a different bear from the one that was at St Martin airfield. This is black. The other was brown.'

  Aubrey moved closer to the bodies. One of them was half-underneath the bear, his face horribly torn, the eye patch hanging on his cheek. 'That's Schnagel,' von Stralick said. 'It's Muller over there.'

  Schnagel had been killed by the bear. His massive wounds had clearly been inflicted by the claws of the brute.

  He examined the bear. It had been shot, several times, but not at close range – no telltale powder burns on its fur.

  He looked at Muller. He was lying a few yards away, on his front, with his back to the door. A revolver was still in his hand, but his body had no claw marks, no bites. Instead, he had a gunshot wound – in the middle of his back.

  Aubrey tried to reconstruct the scene in his mind. A roaring wild beast, shouting, screams, gunfire. Confusion – much confusion. Would the presence of the Heart of Gold have added to the chaos?

  He stood and wiped his hands together. 'It's clear that the bear killed Schnagel. Muller shot the bear, most likely in an attempt to save his comrade.'

  'Then someone shot him in the back,' von Stralick muttered.

  'From the doorway, I'd say,' Aubrey said. 'Then he stole the Heart of Gold, whoever he was.'

  'Or she,' Caroline added. Aubrey shrugged.

  'It was here?' von Stralick asked.

  'Definitely. Its magical presence still lingers.' He could feel it. It left its mark on the surroundings the same way a heavy weight would on wet sand.

  'Well, old man,' George said, 'can't you do that vision thing? The one where you find out what happened?'

  He shook his head. 'The Heart of Gold. Magic will be extremely difficult in this area for some time.'

  'Then who did this?' von Stralick said.

  'When magic is insufficient, we must use our brains.'

  Von Stralick gave a shaky grin. 'Baron Verulam?'

  'I'm impressed, von Stralick.' You have hidden depths, Hugo. Aubrey was sure that knowledge of Baron Verulam, the seventeenth-century magician and natural philosopher, wasn't required knowledge for a Holmland spy. Had von Stralick studied the man who began modern magic because he knew he was one of Aubrey's heroes? And if so, what did that imply?

  'It is good to impress,' von Stralick said. 'Please go on.'

  'To start an investigation,' Aubrey continued, 'we need to know what questions to ask first.' He spread his hands. 'Well?'

  Caroline nodded. 'Who would benefit from the deaths of Muller and Schnagel?'

  'Good.'

  'Who knew they were here?' George volunteered.

  'Excellent.'

  'Where is the Heart of Gold?' von Stralick added.

  'Important, but if we knew that, everything else would be irrelevant.' Aubrey grimaced. 'But there is one other question that I'm very, very interested in.'

  George knew his role. 'And what's that, old man?'

  Aubrey pointed. 'Where did the bear come from?'

  OUTSIDE THE STATION, AUBREY STOOD WITH HIS HANDS ON his hips, looking back at the city. Smoke rose in a number of places and he thought he could hear shots. In the distance, alarm bells rang. Angry voices drifted across the rooftops and he hoped it didn't signal more riots.

  'The bear, old man,' George said. 'Don't taunt us like this. Where d'you think it came from?'

  Aubrey brought his hands together and studied them. For days, he'd been trying to sort out the manifold events in Lutetia. Riots, sabotage, politics, with the flavour of magic weaving in and about every single incident. He'd pored over the happenings, analysed them, picked them apart and then – when other events were more pressing – let his mind work, making the intuitive leaps in the dark that often produced startling results.

  Now, with Lutetia decaying on the skyline, he had it.

  'It's the Heart of Gold,' he said. 'I think it made the bear.'

  'Made the bear?' Caroline said. 'Out of what?'

  'A man.' The sun had taken on an odd, red tinge. It made the streaky clouds look bloody. 'The Heart of Gold is transforming people into ancient Lutetian animals.'

  Von Stralick frowned. George scratched his cheek.

  'Ah,' Caroline said, 'I see. Wolves, bears, aurochs, even lions. They once roamed this very spot.'

  'The Heart of Gold is the pivot around which all of this is happening. All the disruptions to the city are because it has been ripped from its resting place. It's like removing a keystone and watching an arch crumble.'

  'And the animals?' George asked, his brow furrowed. 'It's just randomly turning people into beasts?'

  Aubrey rubbed his hands together, slowly. The more he explained, putting his suspicions into words, the more certain he felt of his conclusions. 'Remember the order of nuns devoted to cradling the Heart of Gold? I'd say that it's more than a ritual. My guess is that the Heart must remain in contact with a human.' Aubrey thought of the unfortunate Sister Anne. He hoped she had recovered. 'When all is good and proper, it nestles, almost dormant, in the lap of its custodian, in the heart of the country. Its presence binds Gallia together.'

  'It belongs in the Chapel of the Heart,' Caroline murmured.

  'Exactly. Removed from its rightful place, the Heart of Gold is unbalanced, dangerous.' Recalling the nuns in the Chapel of the Heart led him to think of the connection between humanity and magic. Some savants believed that it was the way that humanity intersected with the universe that gave rise to magic. 'It must be cradled by a human,' he said, slowly. 'Held close. Embraced.'

  'But all that's been thrown out of the window now,' George said.

  'Yes. But taken away from where it belongs, its magic is disruptive, not binding.'

  'Ach. Those closest turn into wild animals,' von Stralick said, his eyes widening.

  'Yes. And once that happens, a new custodian is needed.'

  'Who would take that role, knowing their fate?' Caroline asked.

  Von Stralick stared into the distance. 'Volunteers convinced of the rightness of their cause. Those willing to give their lives for their country.'

  'Or unwitting dupes. If they're not told their fate, they won't refuse,' Aubrey pointed out. 'Either way, Muller and Schnagel were taken by surprise by the change in their chosen custodian. Perhaps the process is accelerating.'

  'The Holmlander who was holding the
Heart of Gold turned into a bear,' George said, frowning. 'The bear attacked, and Muller was shot after dispatching the bear.'

  'And the lucky assassin took the Heart of Gold,' Aubrey said. 'Which is what he was after, no doubt.'

  'But he would start to change, too,' Caroline said.

  'True. If he knew what was going on, he'd quickly pass it onto a volunteer, or dupe, as the Holmlanders did.'

  'So it's gone, with persons unknown, to an unspecified location,' Caroline said.

  'So it seems,' Aubrey said.

  'So we're no better off.'

  Aubrey sighed. 'No, not really. Worse, in most ways. Unless von Stralick can help here.'

  The Holmlander shrugged. 'I'm at a loss, I'm afraid. I'll have to consult my network. And my superiors.'

  The ground underfoot trembled. 'I think you'd best do that,' Aubrey said. 'Quickly, too.'

  Caroline frowned. 'This, of course, explains the presence of the other bear at the airfield last Friday. The Heart of Gold was there with Muller and Schnagel and their foot soldiers.'

  Von Stralick tugged at his earlobe. Then he rubbed his chin and grimaced. 'Yes. Well. That may be true.'

  'You saw it there, didn't you?' George said.

  'Why didn't you take it from them?' Caroline asked.

  Von Stralick straightened his cuffs. 'I was not in a good position. I was endeavouring to prove my trustworthiness to them. They were very suspicious.'

  'So you helped them blow up the Gallian airship?' Aubrey said. 'It's a dangerous role you undertook, von Stralick.'

  'Very much so. My orders were to get close to them then stop them. They were dangerous rogues and my superiors wanted things put right.' He glanced at Aubrey. 'I refused to fire upon you in the hangar, you know. That's when they turned on me. I barely escaped.'

  Aubrey couldn't decide how much of this to believe. Von Stralick appeared to be sincere. But he wouldn't be much of a spy if he couldn't pretend sincerity, he thought. 'So Gallia's enemy is helping Gallia?'

  'Trust me. I deeply desire to restore the Heart of Gold.'

  VON STRALICK LEFT, HEADING NORTH ON AN ERRAND HE wouldn't divulge. Aubrey, Caroline and George began to walk back toward the city. Aubrey had his head bowed deep in thought, ignoring the frequent, minor earth tremors, while George and Caroline batted about possibilities.

  'What about a bear trap?' George suggested.

  'We want the Heart of Gold,' Aubrey said, 'not the transformed foot soldiers.'

  'Some sort of magical sniffer?' George tried again.

  'Good idea. Work on the details and get back to me.'

  'The brick dust,' Caroline asked. 'Is it as depleted as the fragments?'

  'Even more so, I'm afraid.'

  'There is no way of recharging it? Giving it more power?'

  'Not in any practical sense, especially since Maurice won't let us harm his building.'

  Something niggled at Aubrey, like an itch between the shoulder blades. He tried to bring it to light but it slipped away.

  'Let me see if I have this right,' Caroline said. 'The tower is impregnated with magic, so much so that it is attuned to great sources of magic.'

  'Correct.' Aubrey almost had it again, but it still eluded him.

  'So you noted the way the tower leaned and then cross-referenced it against the yearning of the brick fragments.'

  'Yes.' Aubrey stopped dead. 'That's it.'

  'I knew you'd think of something, old man,' George said. 'He always does,' he added to Caroline.

  'If we can't use the bricks to find the Heart of Gold, we'll use the tower.'

  'Oh,' George said. 'We tried that.'

  'We found direction via the tower, but I think we can find the actual location using the tower.' He appealed to them. 'I'm sure it will work.'

  George and Caroline shared a rueful glance. George shrugged. 'He's full of ideas, you know.'

  'So I've noticed,' Caroline said. 'Let's hope this is a good one.'

  Twenty

  MAURICE STARED. 'YOU WANT TO FLOAT THE FACULTY of Magic into the air and let it drift across the city like a balloon?'

  'Don't worry,' Aubrey said with his best attempt at an encouraging smile, 'it'll be perfectly safe.'

  They were standing in the tiny room that served as the caretaker's office. Aubrey was impressed, for Maurice's office was immaculate, from the small desk with invoices arranged in baskets, to the hooks on the walls with a variety of dustcoats.

  'You are crazy.' Maurice looked at Caroline and George. 'He is crazy, isn't he?' he said in Albionish.

  'He may seem like that,' George agreed. 'At times. Often. But he isn't really, despite appearances.'

  'That's true, Maurice,' said Caroline. 'His schemes may sound bizarre, but he's not mad, as such.'

  Aubrey glanced at his friends, who both seemed to be stifling smiles, then he turned back to Maurice. 'I'm sure you've heard of more outlandish plans than this, in your time as caretaker of the faculty.'

  Maurice scratched his chin. 'There's madness and then there's madness, I suppose.'

  'Come now, Maurice,' Caroline said. 'You were worried that the faculty had been forgotten. This is a grand opportunity to make it renowned again. Doesn't the old faculty deserve such a thing instead of mouldering away forgotten? Imagine the fame if the Faculty of Magic is responsible for finding the missing Heart of Gold.'

  'The university will be grateful,' George said. 'It might put some funds into the old place.'

  Maurice was hopeful. 'The tower. It won't be damaged?'

  Aubrey clapped the caretaker on the shoulder. 'Trust me.'

  ONE BENEFIT OF CONSTRUCTING A SPELL TO LEVITATE A building that had once contained a Faculty of Magic was that there was no shortage of precedent. While Aubrey walked around the interior, circling the great iron staircase, Maurice regaled him with previous experiments in the area of weight negation.

  'Monsieur Pascal, he was a wag,' the caretaker cackled. 'Made the bust of the Dean float around the professor's quadrangle for an hour before it fell into the fountain. And then there was Madame Carillon. She came up with a way to cause anything made of antimony to shoot straight up in the air, like a skyrocket.'

  'Must have been useful,' George chipped in and Aubrey was grateful. He needed to concentrate and Maurice's happy reminiscing was hard to ignore.

  George and Caroline took Maurice aside and gave him an audience for his stories. Aubrey continued to circle the staircase, hands behind his back, humming tunelessly as he tried to piece together a spell to lift the whole tower.

  His idea was simple. The tower was yearning for the Heart of Gold. If it could be unmoored, set free of the earth, it would be able to achieve its goal.

  All I have to do is wrench a thousand-year-old tower out of the ground and set it drifting across the city, he thought. Shouldn't be too hard.

  At first he considered the Law of Opposites. Perhaps magically linking the tower with a pile of lead and then circumscribing a weight inversion would produce the desired effect. He shook his head. It would be too hard to get the control he needed to vary the lift. Besides, he didn't have a large pile of lead nearby.

  He stopped pacing and looked up at the light filtering down from the turret. In some ways, it was similar to the problems that dirigible engineers and captains had to face. Too much helium in the gasbags and an airship would rocket to the stratosphere. Too little and it would never leave the ground. Balance was the essential principle, so that the airship would be just a little lighter than the air around it. Then it would rise like a soap bubble, not like a rock hurled from a volcano.

  Balance. He rubbed his hands together, hard. It was all a matter of balance. He needed a spell that would not only cancel the weight of the tower, but also be adaptable enough to handle the changing density of the air they would travel through.

  He kneaded his forehead with a knuckle, trying to think.

  He remembered reading about ancient sorcerers in the east and their attempts to construct bamboo
aircraft for warfare. These fantastic constructions in the shapes of dragons were equipped with gunpowder bombs, but were never able to lift far from the ground, despite the sorcerers' best efforts. The most successful only rose to head height before flipping over and crashing to the ground.

  Flipping. His face cleared. Perhaps he'd been thinking about the problem in entirely the wrong way. The great seventeenth-century scientist-magician Sir Isaac Ayscough declared that weight was indistinguishable from falling. In effect, the weight of the tower was as if the tower was trying to fall toward the centre of the earth. If Aubrey could reverse the direction of that falling, the building would – in effect – fall upwards. The challenge would be to control the rate of that falling, so that the tower would float easily and safely.

  A reversal spell was what he needed. He chewed his lip. He would have to be very careful. It wouldn't do to reverse aspects or qualities such as height, or permanence, or age, although it may be interesting to see how the tower looked when it was first built. Reversing such qualities would require an enormous application of magic. The resulting state would be very unstable, even with tightly circumscribed variables of location, intensity and duration.

  The Law of Reversal had many, many derivatives. It was used to lower temperatures in crucial chemical reactions. It had numerous safety applications, dampening sounds, light intensities and velocities in wide-ranging circumstances. But Aubrey knew it was a notoriously delicate area to work in. Some magicians chose to specialise in reversal spells, making it their life work and gaining well-paid positions adjusting spells for industry and the military.

  I could get in touch with the Magisterium. I'm sure they have some reversal specialists on staff. He grinned. Or I could improvise.

  He started humming happily. It'd probably take too long to contact the Magisterium, anyway.

  In a reversal spell, as for most serious magic, one of the most important aspects was the magician's choice of language – or combination of languages. Aubrey decided that using Chaldean may be useful, as that ancient civilisation's taut and structured syntax was well suited to grappling with the sometimes tortured inversions that a reversal spell dealt with.