Salamander

by David D. Friedman

  Coelus hesitated, torn between two questions.

  "How do you know about the experiment and what happened to Maridon? All anyone in the college knows is that something went wrong with a spell."

  "It was obvious you would try to test the Cascade; why else were there three outside mages here, all guest friends of Maridon? I was behind the strongest barrier I could weave, watching. Do you think you are the only one who can see with his eyes closed?"

  Coelus shook his head, as if to shake off distractions.

  "You said he tried to kill you, months ago. Why didn't you say something? Why didn't you tell me?"

  "I did not tell because I had no way of proving it. I was a student, he was a magister; why should they believe me instead of deciding I was crazy and sending me home? I did not tell you because I did not know whether or not you were behind it. You and he were working together, he was an earth mage. You had good reason to want me silenced."

  She fell silent, looking defiantly at him. Coelus was silent as well, speechless. He drew several long, slow breaths.

  "You thought I would try to murder you, to keep you from telling people about the Cascade?"

  "It was one possible interpretation of the available evidence."

  "I couldn't try to hurt you." He hesitated, the moment passed. He gave her a weak smile. "Killing you would be like burning a library or smashing the only instance of a precision instrument." He hesitated again. "For one thing, you are the only person in the whole college I can talk to without feeling as though I need a translator."

  She nodded.

  "I know. I feel much the same. It is one of the reasons I have not killed you, which would have been the simplest solution. And not unjust, considering the scale on which you have violated, and intend to violate, the limits of magery."

  He looked at her indignantly.

  "You. Kill me? How?"

  "For a brilliant man you are sometimes very stupid. You know what I am."

  She turned, pointed at one of the unlit candles on the shelf above his desk. It went up in a blaze of flame; an instant later, where the flame had been was nothing but a faint mist of grey ash.

  ***

  The next morning was breakfast, Constructions, Ethics, a free hour, lunch. Two temptations: To skip Ethics or use it to hint at Magister Coelus' project, in the hope of getting the other magisters to stop it. She resisted both. Two hours would be enough, and Master Dur's shop was a few doors down from the cookshop. She had been considering the puzzle of Magister Coelus' tablets, and it had occurred to her that although she might be the only strong fire mage in the college, there was another one not far away.

  Ellen spent the next two hours in a hard chair pretending to be interested in the lectures. Guydo preferred to put his questions to the students who didn’t know the answers—but not to women. That suited her well enough, especially this morning. Hal, as usual, turned to her every time someone else stumbled. She was tempted to raise it as an ethical issue outside of class; was it just to make her a target of resentment in order to keep him from having to explain the answers himself? But she thought better of it.

  Ethics over, she escaped from the lecture hall past Magister Hal’s attempt to explain to an uncomprehending Joshua what was wrong with compulsions. She had no doubt what sort of compulsions Joshua was interested in, or why. Hal glanced up as she passed but she, looking intently down at the notes on her tablet, managed not to meet his gaze.

  Getting out of the College presented its own problems; the Magister Gatekeeper knew her. He might wonder why she should run off to town in the middle of the day. Instead of following the main corridor to the gatehouse and the front gate, she turned right into the student wing past her own door to the end of the corridor, through the small door there into a corner of the college’s kitchen garden. It was bounded by a low brick wall, beyond that the curve of the inner surface of the containment sphere. She stepped over the wall, hesitated, remembering again what she had done in the small orchard.

  Ellen took a deep breath, walked up to the grey mist, closed her eyes, let her mind sink into it, stepped forward.

  * * *

  The shop door was closed, the sign leaning next to it read "out to lunch." As she turned away, disappointed, it opened. Master Dur looked out, and beckoned her in.

  Two chairs, his own from behind the counter and the one reserved for favored customers, had been placed at a small table set with a glazed bowl full of stew, two wooden bowls, two spoons, a plate with a loaf of bread and a knife. Dur gestured her to sit. Spooning food into the bowls, he slid the plate of bread over toward her.

  Two sets of questions; she would start with the older one.

  "Three months ago, when Maridon tried to kill me in the orchard. It was you who used fire to wake me?"

  He nodded. "You were almost buried before I saw what was happening. Short of trying to get there with a shovel before you were swallowed up, I didn't see what else I could do."

  "Do you know how it happened?"

  Dur shook his head, waited. In a moment, Ellen continued. "I thought it might have been an accident, someone doing an experiment that went wrong. But I had gotten a note from Magister Coelus, who had offered to take me for independent study on a research project of his, suggesting we meet in the orchard at evening bell. I thought it a bit odd—why not the office? But he had said something about colleagues gossiping."

  "More likely to start gossip if he's meeting with you in the orchard in the evening."

  "He might not have thought of that. I didn't think … ." She stopped, looked down, cut a slice of bread.

  "That he had any improper intentions? Probably not."

  "It isn't as if I was … ."

  "A striking beauty, like your friend Mari? Men have been known to fall in love with a beautiful mind. I expect Coelus could, although it might take him a while to notice. Was he in the orchard?"

  "No."

  "So it was probably not an accident. Not what I would expect of Coelus, and I doubt within his power anyway. Did you show him the note and ask if he wrote it?"

  "By the time I got free, it was gone."

  The two sat eating quietly, as if they had known each other all their lives.

  "Do you know about the Cascade project?"

  He nodded. "Part of the reason I am here. Ever since Olver published his treatise it has been obvious to anyone paying attention that things were going to change, and that some of the changes might be for the worse. The first big breakthrough in magery, three hundred years ago, gave the Dorayans the advantage they used to build the league and turn it into an empire; the gods know where this one will lead. Since the treatise Olver has published nothing important that is new and does not intend to until he has worked the whole thing out to his own satisfaction.

  "If anyone else were going to make a breakthrough, Coelus was the obvious candidate, ever since his third year when he finished his work on the formal elementals and submitted it as a thesis. I saw what it meant, even if none of the magisters did; I have been watching him ever since. Once he worked out the Cascade … . I don't want to live in a world split up among warring mages, each powered by his troop of mage slaves. Nor in one where all magic, large and small, funnels through one pair of hands, not even if the hands belong to Coelus instead of Maridon."

  "So it was you who erased the tablets with his notes on them?"

  Dur nodded. "And some other things. I’ve been trying to slow the project without being too obvious about it. It should have occurred to me that he might blame you."

  "Yes. I thought by now he knew me better than that."

  "He probably does. Men don't always think with their heads."

  There was another silence, while Ellen finished the last of her slice of bread. Finally she looked up. "Who are you?"

  "You know my name. For the rest … if you look inside yourself, you will find a knot, a lock. The key is my name. Use it."

  There was a long silence. Dur had finished the l
ast of the stew and sat watching Ellen, who had closed her eyes. She opened them then, and smiled. He was the first to speak.

  “I’m sorry, love, but it did seem the only way, and you agreed. Too many mages in the college, and too hard to predict what they might do or how well you could protect yourself. Or what they might learn from you. Forty years … .”

  “I know—now. You and mother agreed, and of course I did too. I don’t mind, I’m just remembering the parts that were missing over the last few months.”

  She got up, leaned over, gave her father an affectionate hug.

  Chapter 11

  There was a knock on the door. Coelus looked up from his tablet and a sheet of calculations and let in the college porter.

  “A mage at the gate, with a note.” The porter handed it to him. Coelus glanced down at it and smiled.

  “Good. Show the learned Gervase to one of the guest rooms in the north wing, then escort him to me.”

  Half an hour later another knock; Coelus stood to open the door and greet his guest. Gervase was tall and middle aged, with a beard sprinkled with grey. Coelus was the first to speak.

  “I think I have solved the problem, at least well enough to prevent another accident. Did you arrange for the others to come? I have heard nothing from either of them.”

  “Raynald was willing. Nikolas thought one life-threatening experience was enough.”

  “Then we are two mages short. I doubt that any of my colleagues or students would agree. Maridon was the only one who believed in what I was doing. Anyone else?”

  Gervase smiled. “An old schoolmate of mine—and he has brought several more mages, all at the inn in town. We should meet there. It is less likely to cause talk than if they all come here.”

  “Of course. But we should repeat the experiment here to take advantage of the containment sphere. This time I will be the focus. I won’t rupture it, however much power I have.”

  “Is that what you think happened? That Maridon burned up after he tore through the barrier?”

  “Not rupturing the sphere is one precaution. But I have also modified the spell to limit the power pulled from any one source. I should have done that anyway, to better protect the donors from being overdrawn. But I think it takes care of the other problem too.

  “I still do not know exactly what happened to Maridon. He seemed to be drawing from an impossibly large source of fire, hundreds of times more than any fire mage that ever existed, and it burned him up. I wonder if he somehow tapped the containment dome itself; it must have a lot of stored fire in it. Or the sun, if Olver is right. But whatever it is, if I limit the amount the spell can draw, it won’t matter how much fire is at the other end.”

  “Interesting, but you don’t have to get into it now. Let’s be off to the inn to meet your new assistants. You can explain it to us all there.”

  Business was good at the village’s only inn: the stable yard was filled with horses, strange grooms, and travelers’ servants. Gervase took Coelus through the front room to the staircase that led to the guest rooms above. There Coelus stopped cold. Two men, in armor and wearing swords, stood at the top of the stairs looking down. “Who are they and what are they doing here?” Coelus asked.

  “Come with me and all will become clear,” Gervase replied. When they reached the top of the stairs, the guards stood back to let the mages by. Gervase led Coelus to the door of one of the rooms.

  Inside were three mages. The one in the center—tall, very well dressed, face a little flushed—was at least in part an earth mage. One problem solved. The other two were veiled, strongly enough that Coelus could not be sure what the veil was hiding. There was something else as well about them, some sort of barrier. In a moment, the tall man nodded to the other two and they left the room.

  Gervase spoke: “Your Highness, may I present Magister Coelus of the college? Coelus, this is His Highness Prince Kieron. He and I were students together. When you wrote proposing a second experiment, it occurred to me that he would be interested in what you were doing and could help with finding sufficient mages.”

  There was a long silence while the two men looked at each other. The Prince was the first to speak. “I am honored to make your acquaintance, Magister Coelus. I have read some of your work and heard a report of your recent researches from Gervase. The brilliance of your theoretical accomplishments is only matched …” He paused a moment for effect.

  “By the irresponsible stupidity of your practical actions. Did you think at all of the consequences of what you were doing?”

  It took Coelus a moment to respond. “Could your Highness explain in what respect you believe I have erred? It is true that the first attempt to implement the Cascade effect went badly, but new research is always risky. I thought the precautions I had taken were sufficient but they proved not to be.”

  “Precautions? What precautions?”

  “The first implementation was within the containment sphere, so that if anything went wrong no harm would be done outside; also, I had my athame at hand, in case the spell had to be cut suddenly. I intend to do the same with the second implementation. It did not occur to me that the mage the effect focused on would try to breach the sphere, let alone that he would succeed; I still do not entirely understand why that happened. Nor do I clearly understand what happened to Maridon after he breached it.”

  “You put in the hands of one of your colleagues more power than any mage had ever had—the combined talent of a college full of mages, students and magisters together, bridging all of magery. And it did not occur to you that he might have some interest in the matter beyond doing an experiment for you?”

  Coelus shook his head, a bit stunned. “Maridon agreed with me about what could be accomplished by use of the effect, and on the protocol for the experiment. It did not occur to me that he might change his mind after it started.”

  “Change his mind? Did you read his mind in advance to know what was in it? You offered the man a chance at unlimited power and you are surprised he took it. Whose idea was it to make him and not you the focus for the Cascade?”

  Coelus thought a moment, spoke reluctantly. “His, your Highness. Since I was the only one who really understood the theory behind the Cascade, he did not want me to risk myself if something went wrong… At least, that is what he said.”

  He paused. “It did not occur to me that he might have another reason.”

  The Prince nodded. “You are, so far as I know, one of the ablest theoreticians in the kingdom, perhaps the world. But you should not be allowed to wander about without a keeper. Suppose Maridon hadn’t been destroyed by whatever went wrong at the end of the experiment. Have you considered what he would have done next, after he had control of all of the magic of thousands of mages?”

  “I have not, Highness. Tell me.”

  “Perhaps he considered it time for another mage king. My brother is, of course, defended by mages as well as guards. But, if I understand your contrivance correctly, their power would be useless against him. Maridon would be drawing not only their talent but that of every other mage in range of the effect. As he increased the power he used against them, the power they had to use against him would shrink accordingly. I do not see how His Majesty could be defended under those circumstances. Am I missing anything?”

  Coelus shook his head. “I think you are correct, so far as conflicts between mages go. Had Maridon succeeded in expanding the Cascade to the entire kingdom he could have slain His Majesty. But that might not suffice to seize the throne. His Majesty’s soldiers, his nobles, are loyal to him, and wars are not won by magery alone.”

  “And why are they not? Because there are mages on both sides, and because the power of a single mage is very limited. But you have changed all that, have you not? If one side has the Cascade then there is really magery on only one side. And with the Cascade, there is more magery on that side than anyone has ever had before.”

  “I confess that I had not considered that possibility. You
r Highness may well be correct. I will try not to make the same mistake again.”

  Prince Kieron shook his head. “That is not the only mistake you can make, or have made. Maridon, fortunately, is dead. But surely there are others to whom you have mentioned your plans. You told Gervase enough, and he told me enough, to bring me here. Who else? With which of your students, your colleagues, have you discussed your work? Which other mages outside the College?

  “Very few, Highness. At Maridon’s urging, I told my colleagues only that I had a schema for pooling four mages, not what I planned to do with it. None of the others expressed much interest in the project. I described it to one student whom I hoped to involve, but she was not interested. Another student was used in an early experiment; he did not know its nature, and the design of the experiment was such that he saw nothing. Of course, Raynald and Nikolas were involved along with Gervase, and I suppose they know as much as he does.

  “Raynald and Nikolas I know of, and am taking steps to deal with. We will have to do something about the students; what are their names?”

  “I am not sure I understand your Highness. What peril do you fear, and what precautions do you wish to take other than to select the focus of the pool more wisely the next time we do the experiment?”

  “We can discuss that later. My present concern is not with your experiments but with what others might do. Have you considered the consequences should the Cascade be achieved and the pool controlled by a mage in service to Forstmark? Perhaps it has escaped your notice, but there has been trouble on that frontier for some years now; we have been recruiting both troops and mages and may need to use them. Your Cascade would be very useful to us—but equally so to the Forstings, should they happen to hear of it and succeed in duplicating your work.”

  “I understand your Highness’s concern. But the core of the work, the theory and the mathematics, is known to no-one but me. Even the mages who assisted with the first experiment knew each only his part of it, not the whole, as Gervase will confirm. Maridon knew the most of any of them, and he is dead.”