Lyndon Hardy - Secret Of The Sixth Magic

The page at the head of the line took the message and disappeared through the opening. As the rest moved up, the master thought a moment and then hastily began scribbling another note.

"Melthon should continue trying the formula," he said, "for the chance that alchemy might return. He is of no help otherwise, and the attempt cannot possibly hurt."

"Archmage Alodar," the sergeant said in reverent tones. "I realize that all of us must make the final preparations for battle, but something has transpired that I thought you should know." Alodar looked up from his writing as Jemidon was jostled forward. "He stepped from a flame just as a demon would, although, as you can see, he is quite normal in form."

"Not wizardry as well!" Alodar muttered. "If this is a portent that it, too, withers away, then indeed we truly are lost. It is the only craft left that we can use."

"It remains unaltered as long as Melizar desires to conquer two universes," Jemidon said quickly. "He needs the means to travel between. And the laws do not just wither away. They are replaced abruptly by others. The Maxim of Perturbations instead of the Maxim of Persistence. The Rule of the Threshold rather than the Rule of Three."

Alodar looked at Jemidon and his eyes narrowed. "What babble is this? Neither magician nor sorcerer any more can ply his craft."

"In place of those arts, there are two others. By the perturbations, Melizar has brought down the walls of Searoyal. With animations, he has enslaved the rebels to his commands."

"Indeed, the minds of the people are clouded. That we have learned from the few who have been captured," AJodar said. "All our men are on guard to avoid any inducements that pull at their sight. And we abandoned the fortress and chose to fight on the plain, rather than be crushed by tumbling rock."

"With thaumaturgy and alchemy gone, Melizar probably will unleash even more strange forces against you," Jemidon said. "You should prepare for them as well. His powers come from understanding metamagic, the Postulate of Invariance, the Axiom of Least Contradiction, and the Verity of Exclusion."

Alodar's frown deepened. He rubbed his hand across his chin and, for a long moment, pondered what Jemidon had said. Then his eyes brightened; with a casual wave, he sent the pages away. "As good a course as any for the final preparations. Why not a gamble rather than filling chinks in a weak and tottering wall? Sergeant, release those fetters and be on your way. This man indeed might have things of value to tell us."

"Everything I will share," Jemidon said as the bracelets fell away. "Everything that I have learned. But first I need a djinn. We must send one to Melizar's domain and save Delia from the fumes."

"A djinn? For your own personal use?" Alodar shook his head. "To save the life of one, when here thousands are in peril? You saw the forces arrayed against us outside. Wizards and demons will be our only hope to even the odds. And we have conjured all that we dare. Any more and the careful balance forged almost two decades ago might no longer be secure. It wilf do us no good to avoid one jeopardy, only to fall prey to another."

"Everyone knows full well how you became master of the five magics," Jemidon said. "That is not the issue here."

"You should understand that the battle today is no less important than the one on the Bardinian plain," Alodar replied. "This Melizar has swept all before him. The kingdom of Arcadia has crumbled. And with the moving pictures that twist the mind, devil-borne agents have stirred up the peoples of Procolon and the southern realms. The baronies are just barely able to keep order with all the troops they have. The one I hold dearest, Aeriel, strives to coordinate a defense across the sea. The balance is a precarious one. If Melizar wins here, the world will erupt in revolution. Everything will be his."

Alodar came around the table. "If you have something to offer, then help us defeat this strange one. Save the many. After victory, we will offer aid to the few."

Jemidon heard the sound of horns outside, the beat of drums, and the staccato march of men. How long had it already been? How much longer could Delia survive the fumes? He touched the changer at his waist and looked back into Alodar's unflinching eyes. It was clear the archmage's mind was set; he had a goal and would not be deterred.

"Very well," Jemidon sighed. "First the battle and then the djinn. As long as the one immediately follows the other. I will aid all I can." He squatted to the ground and began to speak quickly. "I was on Morgana when sorcery failed. It happened the night of the grand celebration."

"No, from the very beginning." Alodar glanced at the sand running from a glass as he reached for a pen. "Leave out no detail. The most insignificant might be important."

Jemidon sighed again. "My father wanted me to be a thaumaturge," he said. "He gave me his last gold brandel for the testing fee."

"And so mobilizing all the alchemists to manufacture sweetbalm in preparation for the battle was to our deterrent." Alodar paced around the confines of the tent, his hands behind his back. "They had to stop their normal productions to convert their facilities, and in the lull, when no formulas were being written, this Skyskirr changed the law. What you say is hard to accept, Jemidon, even if it explains what has come to pass better than the tale of any other."

"Exactly so," Jemidon said. He had wanted to rattle off everything at once. Each heartbeat seemed an eternity, but the archmage would not be rushed. He had asked questions about all aspects of Jemidon's quest, details from the very first, the apprenticeship to the alchemist, the initiates' examination at the inland guild, the graphical representation for the charmlets shown to Farnel. And with each answer, Alodar had grown more introspective, seemingly concerned with something else besides the working of the metalaws.

"And these uncouplings. You say that I cannot perform them." Alodar rubbed his sleeve with the logos. "The power has been awakened in you and no other of our kind."

"As it would appear," Jemidon said. "The Verity of Exclusion prevents a practitioner of the arts. And, by the random factors, I have tested its truth hard enough for myself."

Alodar nodded. "And now what do you propose?"

"Well, I would-" Jemidon paused. In the rush to save Delia, he had thought of nothing else. "I would challenge Melizar with manipulants of my own," he said after a moment. "I am a metamagician as much as he, I would bring about a decoupling. Direct the enactment of rituals, incantations, and formulas that are our own. Have the laws move in a direction that favors our cause rather than his."

"And which direction is that?" Aiodar asked. "Have you studied the lattice? Are you sure it would not mean the end of wizardry instead?"

"If we could get a look, we would know," Jemidon answered quickly. "Perhaps by using a sprite to fly where Melizar has set up his camp and snatch the lattice away."

Alodar frowned. "From what you have said, Melizar proceeds methodically from a plan he has worked out in great detail. And for each perturbation, he pauses and carefully calculates the response that returns the rush of events to the course that he desires.

"This is no mere examination for a robe, Jemidon. Far more than that is at stake. How could what you propose have even the smallest of chances? Why would you succeed now when you have failed so often before?"

"But I am a metamagician." Jemidon scowled. Despite everything else, the anger and frustration began to bubble as before. The words of the archmage were familiar ones that he had tried for so long to dispel. "I am a metamagician. That is why I was unable, why I could not succeed, why I could not get the honor and respect. But now I understand what has to be done. Better than any other. Give me the means. I will show you. It may be your only chance."