White Mage

by Jolie Jaquinta

  Chapter 4

  Preventing Insanity

  Devonshire was not present when Lilly returned to the lab. So she reviewed the experiments set up on the table herself. There was a variety of soul gems, crystals and other containment mechanisms. The inner wall was lined floor to ceiling with soul jars containing hundreds of souls they had liberated from the demonic planes on their attack there several months ago. Devonshire wished to keep them there to remind her of the importance of their work.

  Lilly drew one out and brought it to a light containment field. She took readings and noted that it still had a natural attraction for the demonic plans. If released it would return there, back into the thrall of whatever demon lord had taken over from Halphas, the one they had destroyed.

  She placed her hand into the work area and closed her eyes. Tendrils of her mind touched that of the Soul. She felt, rather than heard, a screaming gibbering of mindless ramble. Insane. No telling how long this poor Soul had been tormented in the pit. Whatever it had done, or whomever it had offended to be traded to the demons, was long overwhelmed by its treatment there. Reincarnation was really the only answer for it. To seal that lifetime away as one bad layer and to start afresh.

  She brought some other instruments to bear and checked a few more things. As was usually the case, the Soul had no past lives. Since the Change, when reincarnations mostly stopped, the number of new Souls compared to reincarnated ones had risen in proportion. They had briefly thought to pierce the barrier between the current life and the past lives. As Lilly had partially done when she inherited her Soul from Angelika. However the chance of those older lives calming the present one was about the same as the currently insane one corrupting the older ones. And, in any event, as most Souls were new ones, it was not generally applicable.

  There was a rough scraping as the door to the lab was pushed open. A panting Devonshire pulled herself into the room and leaned against the door, closing it again. Her deep red hair was awry. She had given up on the magical conformance she normally kept it under. Her tunic was a short rough work-piece, secured around her waist with a wide red belt with a large ruby buckle. She wore red leggings and her usual high boots.

  “Good morning mistress Devonshire,” said Lilly, as Devonshire got her breath back.

  “Afternoon,” she said in a husky voice. “Don't coddle me. I know I'm late.”

  “Do you feel the uncompressed sleep helped?” Lilly asked politely.

  “I feel like hell,” said Devonshire. She had made her way over to a table that had bread, cheese and weak wine set out on it.

  “You often say that,” said Lilly. “Would this be one of the lesser hells or a greater hell?”

  Devonshire laughed. “I swear, Lilly. You are developing a sense of humor.” She tore off some bread, wrapped it around a chunk of cheese and gnawed on it as she made her way over. “I guess you can say I'm feeling better than I have in a long time. Although that’s not saying much.” She watched Lilly transfer the Soul into a work gem. “What have you got?”

  “The usual,” she said. “Another insane Soul from the rescue.”

  “Any idea what you want to try today?” she asked.

  “I had a conversation with Bianca this morning,” said Lilly.

  Devonshire eyed her warily. “Is she putting ideas into your head? She thinks this is a waste of time.”

  “There was difficulty retrieving Goatha from Moss. She had to render aid” continued Lilly.

  Devonshire shuddered and swallowed more cheese. “I really don't like either of their approaches. But I have to admire Goatha's devotion.”

  “It sounds a terrible thing,” said Lilly. “To battle endlessly to thwart the Will driving a mind insane.” She touched the Soul again, now in the work gem. “I wonder if the insanity this one experiences could be similarly combated.”

  Devonshire sighed. “Moss's case is more of an imposing of Will. It's just that the Will that's doing the imposing is insane. These poor creatures' problems are mental, not metaphysical.”

  “I understand that,” said Lilly. “But there may be a similar approach. Say if the pattern of the mind could be divined, and then filtered to separate out the sane. Magically constraining the Will of the mind to the sane pattern might fix a new path that might remain after the magic was lifted.”

  Devonshire nodded. “Tenuous. But we're at the bottom of the barrel.”

  Lilly looked at the floor. “I know this does not bring us any closer to controlled reincarnation. It would only leave the Soul free to be resurrected.”

  Devonshire waved at the racks of soul jars lining the walls. “Personal politics aside, we need a solution. It's costing us a fortune to maintain the magic on these jars. What are there? Over a hundred thousand souls? Even if we could reincarnate them, where are we going to put a hundred thousand babies?” She slumped against the table. “I'm opinionated. I'm not fanatic.”

  “Well, if we destroy the gods, maybe things will naturally go back to reincarnation,” said Lilly.

  “One can hope,” said Devonshire. “Let’s see what sort of pattern we can get.”

  They worked through the afternoon. There were elements of progress in subsidiary and related issues. Questions were raised that Lilly duly noted for further study. But there was no immediate breakthrough.

  “I think there is some potential here,” said Devonshire, when the sun had sunk past the window. “At least we're covering ground that hasn't been gone over. I don't know if it will move us closer or not.”

  “There is always the case that it might help someone in related work,” said Lilly.

  “Hmm,” said Devonshire. She rubbed her head. “We certainly have to find a better way of measuring insanity. Partial empathy has got my nerves completely frazzled.”

  “Shall we try some of the calming patterns on you?” asked Lilly.

  “I'm not sure I'm ready for that yet!” said Devonshire, laughing. “I think I'll do it the old fashioned way. I'll take a break and get dinner in town.”

  “I'll take my sleep while you are out,” said Lilly. “And we can resume when you return.”

  “It's always easier to work at night,” said Devonshire. She pulled a cloak from a peg on the wall and threw it over her shoulders.

  “Mistress Devonshire,” said Lilly. “May I ask you a non-technical question?”

  Devonshire looked at her oddly. “Certainly Lilly. What is it?”

  “What do you do for entertainment?” Lilly asked.

  Devonshire chuckled, then coughed, and then sat on the edge of a stool. “Well. It's not that it's a hard question to answer. I'm just not sure I'd recommend all the things I do for entertainment to you.”

  “How so?” asked Lilly.

  Devonshire scratched her head and grinned wryly. “I'm not sure that short southern sailors would be exactly your thing.”

  “I suppose not,” said Lilly. “I ask because I perceive that we are all working very hard. I am advised that entertainment boosts your efficiency more than the time taken. I thought I might try it.”

  “Well, I'd say that is good advice,” said Devonshire. “But everyone's different. They like different things. I guess in my 'wayward youth' I tried all sorts of stuff and learned what I like. But then I also like trying new things.”

  “I did not have much of a wayward youth,” said Lilly.

  “Good gods,” said Devonshire. “did you spend your whole life in that lab we found you in?”

  “Yes,” said Lilly, simply.

  “How dreary,” Devonshire said, with sympathy.

  “It did not seem dreary at the time,” said Lilly. “But I guess I had nothing to compare it to.”

  “Despite all that, here we are, working you 22 hours a day,” Devonshire sighed.

  “This is much better than before,” said Lilly, earnestly.

  “Yes,” said Devonshire, shaking her head. “The thing is that it can be that much better again.”

  Lilly thought on this. “So y
ou recommend entertainment?”

  “Maybe not the docks,” said Devonshire. “But I go down to The Rest. We have a table there, right in the back. It's quiet enough, and loud enough. There's music sometimes, song other times. There are always people. Quite a mix.”

  “You find this entertaining?” asked Lilly.

  “I do. Sometimes more than others.” She shrugged. “Take it like a game. Sit there, with your pint or a plate, and watch the people. Try to work out what they are thinking, or feeling. Without magic.”

  “A game? I'm not sure I've played a game before,” said Lilly. “Except maybe with Jesca.”

  Devonshire smiled. “Think of it as a game. People are strange and very different. Often in entertaining ways.”

  “Very well,” said Lilly. “Perhaps I will try tomorrow. Thank you Mistress Devonshire.”

  “No problem,” she said, and went out, shaking her head.