Calamity's Child
Page 6
The reason you could find no signature is because there was none to find. The phenomenon we call a "signature" is nothing more or less than the spin given any particular spell by the mind of the magician. Wolheim's concoctions, for instance, were notable for the stink of unexpended power. Your own efforts have a silken essence, marking them out as the constructs of an unusually subtle mind.
The spells that transformed and killed Wolheim bore no signature because there was no interaction between the magician and the spell.
Allow me to explain.
My accomplice, Aletha, is an exceptionally strong and talented magician, but she is intensely literal.
She cannot alter what she is taught by as much as a breath. Therefore, I used the process which I have perfected to prepare a perfectly ridiculous mechanical monkey. I then placed Tanister's book on transformation magic, open to the page where the base spell is written, before Aletha. As she read those words, over and over and over, I guided her thought -- aimed her, if you will, at the toy. Then, I went to the opera, leaving her to it.
When I returned home, Aletha was asleep and the monkey was fairly shimmering with energy. I wrapped it up and put it with the other mail, which was in due time taken down to the post office. I confess that I hadn't expected the matter to go forth so quickly. Wolheim must have wound the toy up the moment he received it. The spells would have been released when the mechanism was engaged. With what exceptional results we have seen. I had not expected it to work nearly so well as it did. Eighty-five transformations! I hope each was an agony.
So, the thing was done. Wolheim was dead. The monkey, its energy expended, would scarcely invite the scrutiny of the Prince's Sorcerer. I thought that would be an end to it. Alas, I had reckoned without my accomplice.
Last night, after I saw you out, I went in search of her. It is our custom to dine together on those days when I'm not engaged, and to work through some of those exercises the doctors had prescribed. I found her in the kitchen, torturing one of the cats. She transformed the poor creature into a monstrosity as I watched -- as she watched, smiling delightedly, then laughing aloud when it gave up its life in a shriek of anguish, horribly, horribly misshapen.
It was then that I realized what I had done -- and what I must do.
On another subject, before I bid you adieu -- the seek-spell I employed to locate my prototype reveals that it has come to you. Nothing could be more satisfactory. You will by now have understood it -- and what it will mean for our Art. The papers are on file with my solicitor. I would be honored, if you would take up the work and see it made available. The process is, if I may be forgiven a certain amount of pride in the child of my own intellect, revolutionary.
And now, I do bid you adieu, old friend. Pray assure your lady of my everlasting regard, and -- make her see, won't you, that this was the only way. When you hear the engines go out of Station Nine, you will know the thing is done.
With respect and affection, your humble servant,
Benjamin Hillier
He let the letter fall from nerveless fingers, seeing it -- seeing it all too clearly.
"Nicky?" Nora touched his arm lightly. "You look as if you've seen a ghost."
"Very nearly. I must --"
From the street below, a sudden shouting of sirens. Nicky jumped to the window and threw it wide, staring down as Engine Company Number Nine's scarlet pump truck streaked away. He raised his eyes, staring across the rooftops, to a plume of smoke, dark against the egg-blue sky, and flames, licking up from the fire. He turned away from the window and looked into Nora's dark brown eyes.
She held up the letter he had dropped, and wordlessly opened her arms.
END
About the Authors
Sharon Lee and Steve Miller have been making beautiful fiction together since 1984. Together, they built and maintain the Liaden Universe®, which now numbers ten novels, well over two dozen short stories, and is still expanding, as well as several other novels, and numerous science fiction and fantasy short stories.
Liaden Universe® novel Balance of Trade is winner of the Hal Clement Award for best Young Adult Science Fiction of 2004, while novels Local Custom and Scout's Progress received second and first prize, respectively, for the prestigious Prism Award given by the Fantasy, Futuristic and Paranormal Chapter of the Romance Writers of America. Scout's Progress was also named Best Science Fiction Novel of 2003 by the reviewers of Romantic Times Bookclub.
Sharon and Steve live in Central Maine with lots of books, four erratic muses in the form of cats, and a large cast of characters. They maintain a web presence at www.korval.com.