Lyndon Hardy - Secret Of The Sixth Magic

"You know the third metalaw?" Delia's face brightened. "Does it provide the means to see us back?"

"Just laws, not metalaws." Jemidon shook his head. "It all began to make sense when I finally recognized the pattern of the distant lines in the sky." Jemidon looked upward and nodded his head. He had carefully walked all over the surface of the Jithosoar and seen them all. There could be no other answer. "We are in a box, Delia-a giant icosahedron, it properly would be called, a regular solid with twenty triangular sides. All that the Skyskirr know to exist lies within the walls of this crystal. From the triangular surfaces they get light and heat. The closure of the 'hedron keeps the air from whirling away to whatever is beyond."

"Like the edges of the world in our own sagas?" Delia asked. "If you sailed too close, you ran the risk of falling over the side."

"Here the risk is not one of falling off," Jemidon said, "but of never being able to return. I suspect that the planes are covered with the lodestones that the scavengers find so dear."

"It is these rocks that pull them through the air?"

"Exactly so," Jemidon said. "Positive cairngorm is attracted by one of the plates and repulsed by another on the othtr side of the 'hedron. For negative cairngorm, the effect is the reverse. Even when it is near no other sphere, a lithosoar can be accelerated by the forces between the walls.

"There are twenty faces in all and ten opposite pairs. For each pair, there is a corresponding rock: black sphalerite, violet spinel, rusty cairngorm, orphiment, realgar, anatase, chrysocoHa, epidote, beryl, and serpentine. I have seen the rocks on the tablestone and as they have spilled from the manipulants' pouches-ten types of lodestones in both positive and negative varieties. And for each type, a rock of one variety is attracted to those which are opposite and repulsed by those which are the same. The force falls off with some power of the distance."

Jemidon paused and contorted his hand in the sign of greeting. "Actually, it is a little more complicated than that. Two additional plates interact with each type of lodestone as well. But only when it is moving and at an angle to the direction of motion. It is the meaning of the right hand. If the thumb points in the direction of the primary tug and the forefinger in the direction the lodestone is moving, then the additional force will be in the direction of the curling fingers. The extended fingers of the hand are a simple mnemonic from a distant past to aid in the calculation of trajectories. If there were only one lode-stone and no others to perturb its path, its motion would be a helix that would eventually reach one of the walls."

"But our flights are anything but so simple," Delia said. "Utothaz maneuvered us almost at will."

"There are other bodies in the 'hedron as well, each with its own complement of rocks that attract and repel."

"But what of the control?" Delia asked. "He maneuvered our lithosoar over the other as if we were a docile bird."

"It is the-the metamagic. Yes, that is the word for it," Jemidon said. "The laws of attraction for the stones can be turned on and off at will. To approach a target, you invigorate the law that attracts the two bodies together. To break before collision, you switch instead to one that repels. Far away from any lithon, you rely on the forces between the walls. Indeed, that is the role of the metamagician in this domain. He is the pilot who calculates the courses and steers the scavengers through the sky, guiding them from one stone to the next to collect whatever of value they can. The laws themselves are simple. Attraction or repulsion, falling with distance, and a second force at right angles to the velocity. Once a law is in effect, it permeates the entire universe; but with a few observations, anyone can calculate the trajectories that result. There is little of the arts as we know them here, Delia. No complex rituals or incantations that only a master can control. It is metamagic instead that is supreme."

Jemidon broke off and pointed skyward. A swarm of small figures rose from the surface of the larger lithon and accelerated swiftly to catch their lithon as it hurled past. When the visitors grew closer, Jemidon saw that they looked much like Ponzar and the rest, dressed only in loincloths, despite the stinging cold. Each carried a huge pack on his back, and a copper sword dangled from his side. Arms were extended directly forward. In one hand, each held a fair-sized stone of blue that seemed to pull its owner along; in the other was an inert crystal of black.

Partway on their intercept trajectory, Jemidon experienced the feeling of disconnection. It was stronger than any since Utothaz's sweep of the beasts, but the disorientation was totally under control. It was merely an irritation that he hardly noticed any more,

"They have deactivated the attraction of the blue stone and changed to the repulsion of the black," he said. "When they arrive, their relative speed will be almost zero. Then the law will be shifted to another and the lodestones will have no special powers until they are reactivated for their return."

In a few minutes, Ponzar climbed with a slow, careful step to where the first visitor had landed. He signaled with a finger-bent right hand and ordered the security of a well-anchored rope. The new arrival accepted the hospitality with a quick patter of soft tones.

Immediately, Ponzar pointed in Jemidon's direction, and several members of both parties approached to view him better. He scowled back at the rude stares and put up his hand when one reached forward to rip away the front of Delia's gown.

"Careful, faraway one," Ponzar warned so that Jemidon could understand. "Your value is less if you are no better than the beast."

"Far away, a man is valued by the keenness of his mind," Jemidon answered.

"As it is here," Ponzar said. "And in your case, there is perhaps a little interest. It would help if you would show them how you fail to conjure up a demon."

Jemidon's scowl deepened. "'There would be nothing to see, only empty flame," he said. "Let me show another art. I have been trained in them all."

"Very well," Ponzar said. "Make it one that catches the eye. The Skyskirr of Valdroz trade with sleepy faces."

Jemidon did not relax his frown. Aiding in Ponzar's petty exchanges did little to help his own plight. Still, what the captain had said was true enough. As long as he and Delia had some value, they had remained away from the sucking lips. And on a bigger sphere they might have a chance to find some of the powders for which they were looking. But what craft to demonstrate? None save wizardry would work here at all. He needed something that appeared impressive, despite what the outcome would be. Quickly he looked around the various items stacked for trade. He dug his hands into one of the nearest sacks and extracted a fistful of soda, originally from the edge of a great salt lake. He rummaged among the small collection of bottles obtained from some previous trade and sniffed for one that had a vinegary smell.

"Alchemy." Jemidon turned back to face Ponzar as he prepared. "A craft governed by the Doctrine of Signatures, or, simply stated, 'the attributes without mirror the powers within.' And these powers are invoked by writing a formula, a series of arcane symbols in a precise order. I will try to make a Foam of Wellbeing by mixing what I have found. If things proceed successfully, there will only be a small bubbling in the bottle before the reaction is complete. The natural propensity to produce large volumes of gas will be suppressed. On the other hand, if the formula fails, the vapor will evolve with explosive results.

"Now, no alchemical formula is guaranteed to work every time, and here I doubt that any will succeed at all. But explain to them what I am doing. The effect should still be good enough."