by Lyndon Hardy
"It would seem that the persuasion of pain might reveal what is missing," Cedric said. "And then one could in a trice have what has taken years to find."
"For one formula, perhaps," Alodar said, "but the varying repertory of even a modestly successful alchemist runs to thousands of formulas and activations."
"Yes, but as I have noticed," Cedric said, "nothing these brewers produce seems to last for long."
"It is true," Alodar admitted, "that the virtue of the powders and elixirs does fade quickly; and the more potent the effect, the sooner it is gone. Only true magic can be permanent; magical armor is proof against all blows forever. But the toil of magicians is not easily come by."
"Vendora could make good use of more than one such shirt of mail," Cedric said. "Bandor still runs wild in the west and several of the neighboring barons have joined him in his rebellion. It is no longer a simple matter of one recalcitrant lord."
"I have not heard," Alodar said. "Between my efforts here and in Saxton's shop, I have had time for little else. But how could Bandor attract any to his cause? It was even rumored that his madness was no less than demon driven."
"According to Kelric, the court sorcerer, it is no rumor at all. In his trance of all seeing, he finds no mind of man stoking the fires of revolt. Some of the nobility still refuse to believe it of one of their own. But what in truth pushes Bandor and how he persuades others is of little matter. The west acts in concert against the queen and she must respond. Even now the armies speed homeward from their idle swordwaving in the south so that they can bite real flesh in true defense of her crown."
"Then the sooner I am proficient, the sooner I can aid," Alodar said.
"And the alchemy?" Cedric asked. "Do you labor at night as hard as you do here by day?"
"As hard," Alodar said, "although the effort by itself will not be sufficient. We must travel this noon to Basil's mines in the Fumus Mountains to barter for more ingredients for our craft."
"Well, your enthusiasm does arouse curiosity, Alodar," Cedric said. "Perhaps enough that I will visit my cousin one of these days to see first hand what all this fuss is about."
Alodar started to smile but Cedric cut him short. "Look, young Solidar arrives early for his instruction. You wish not to waste your time with rest; then swing your mace in challenge. I will wait here and then instruct him when he is sufficiently limber."
"By the amulets, Rendrac, not so fast," Saxton said. "You know every turn in the passageways and the torchlight is sufficient. But this heat addles my brain and I must concentrate to keep from tripping over the rubble directly underfoot. I cannot be looking ahead twenty feet to follow which side tunnel you duck into."
"You said you had urgent business with Basil," Rendrac growled back, his deep voice echoing off the tunnel walls. "He will not be out of the mine before nightfall and so I lead you to him. But know that I am hired not merely to run errands for whomever might ask. Be thankful that my own work takes me close by and accept the pace with which I choose to reach him."
Alodar squinted at their guide and saw only a hulking silhouette against the flickering torchlight. The form hunched over to avoid a descending ceiling, burying his head between boulder-like shoulders that brushed the narrowing walls on either side.
He followed Saxton through the constriction and then around a sharp corner into a dazzle of light. He blinked his eyes and looked out a large jagged hole in the smooth stone wall that admitted a flood of afternoon sun.
"A gas bubble popped through here," Rendrac grunted as Alodar moved to the opening to look outside. "We connected through to the passageway we just traversed because it was convenient."
Shielding his eyes with his hand, Alodar looked down the gentle slope of the mountain, barren of plant life and strewn with dark basaltic rocks, streamlined from their molten passage through the air and pockmarked from the gases which bubbled from them as they cooled. Standing on tiptoe, he looked to the left and saw in the distance the snakelike walls which wound their coils around the city of Ambrosia. He exhaled the heavy sulfurous vapors of the interior and for the first time noticed the detail of the tunnels in which he and Saxton had stumbled for the better part of an hour.
Like the boulders outside, the walls were smooth and firm, melted and scoured by the hot vapors that forced their way upward through not quite solid rock. He stepped back and looked down the passageway from which they bad come and saw it heave and fall and then twist from sight, like a gigantic wormhole that wandered randomly through loose-packed earth. He ran his hand along the glassy wall and felt an occasional indentation that caught his fingertip or snagged his palm.
"Matrix for the gemstones," Rendrac said. "Some of the first ones found. But all such have been taken out ages ago." Rendrac waved his arm about the chamber and then ran his hand down stubble-pocked cheeks. His hair was cropped short and unkempt, sprouting from his head like coarse grass, woven by the wind. Cruel, dark eyes capped square jaws that merged into the sinews of a stumpy neck fully as wide as the head it supported. A thin, sweat-soaked tunic covered a barrel-like chest above thighs as big around as a smaller man's waist.
Banging his sword against the stone wall as he turned, he motioned them forward and started down the passageway on the otherside of the opening. Saxton took a deep breath, coughed, and then pushed Alodar ahead, placing a hand on his shoulder as he scrambled by. The tunnel dipped down a steep slope and the air immediately turned oven hot. Alodar dug in his heels to control his descent and felt his throat prickle from the irritants that he scooped in with each shallow breath.
Downward they descended at a cruel pace, and Saxton's hand on Alodar's shoulder became an aching wetness that gave fresh irritation with each step. His tunic clung, and his eyes stung from the salt deposited by the steady trickle from his sweating brow. He felt a weakness soak into his body, and his arms flopped limply at his sides, far wearier than they had been after a full day in Cedric's courtyard.
"Enough, we will see him another day," Saxton croaked at last, but Rendrac did not reply. He continued on for another thirty feet and pointed to a dim opening to his left. Alodar and Saxton stumbled forward and looked inside.
"Rendrac," a voice called out of the side passageway. "It took you long enough to arrive! No one will try any further. They claim that imps are popping through the torch flames in much greater numbers, and that the petty tricks destroy what little concentration they have for their tasks. And not only the simple imps but sprites as big as a fist, and through common flame at that. I explained that some sulfur must have been burnt accidentally, but they would not listen. I think that your logic may well succeed where mine does not."
"I was delayed by the two who came with me, Basil," Rendrac said as he ducked into the passage. "I will take care of the others in but a moment. A few broken limbs and a jarred brain or two, and they will know what they must do."
"But remember what you are about," Basil warned. "They are of no use if they cannot still swing the chisel and carry the pouch. The last two you persuaded were able to crawl down the mountainside free men because I could no longer profit from their effort."
"I will be careful," Rendrac growled as he moved past Basil. "So long as they do what I say, then their pain will be but little."
Basil turned and frowned for a moment as Rendrac disappeared into the gloom, but then shrugged his shoulders and continued forward.
"Why, Saxton," he said as he approached and saw the alchemist standing in the torchlight. "What ever could compel you to seek me here? I thought you far too lazy for such exertion. Are you so anxious to repay the brandels that you cannot wait yet another day?"
"You judge me correctly," Saxton gasped. "It is not for your repayment that I would endure such as this. But the brandels I do not have and the days remaining before they are due are precious few; I must use them efficiently."
"An extension, then." Basil suddenly broke into a toothy smile. "Ah, Saxton, you have made my afternoon. Each time in the past you
have somehow come through and settled your contract. Each time I have looked forward to the day I would have your labor all the more. An extension, yes, I can arrange it. Say another month against two years of service rather than one."
"It is not for an extension," Saxton continued weakly as he ran his hand over his head. "By the laws, Basil, cannot we proceed upwards and talk as we go? If we do not, then you will soon have to carry me instead."
Basil waved Saxton's words aside. "It is only your first time and you are not used to it," he said. "It is the lower levels which really test one's mettle. If you descend deep enough, the tunnels run together; no one can say that they belong to me, the queen, or some other, Yet we do not squabble over what is found there. It is just reward for anyone who has the fortitude to brave the heat and return with a prize. Of course, if they depart and return by way of the passageways which are clearly mine, then I receive my fair share.
"But of your visit, tell me more. Despite the nonsense about the imps, I feel quite generous today since my other endeavors go well. Look at my waist and what do you see? Yes, it is no less than a magic dagger, the same that is strutted about the royal court. The nobles are not the only ones with sufficient wealth to own such blades. I have no less than eleven more; an even dozen purchased from Lectonil, the master magician of the Cycloid Guild. An even dozen free and clear. He was anxious to sell and gave better terms the more I would take. The profit I will make from resale of the rest will more than pay for the one I wear here. So tell me of your desires and with a light heart I will listen."
"We need more ingredients," Alodar said, "and wish to barter for time and terms."
"Most aggressive for a novice," Basil said. "Especially for one who is bound by the agreement as well. But is this correct, Saxton?" He rubbed his hands together and broadened his smile. "Do you need more, when I am yet to receive payment for the first?"
"It is as Alodar says," Saxton replied. "We work his formula and need additional ingredients. Dead-man's candle, midnight dew, peat tar and the rest. I have a list of it here."
Basil took the offered piece of parchment and then looked for the first time in Alodar's direction. "You saw me in my factory in Ambrosia some time ago," he said. He glanced at the list and then furrowed his brow in thought.
"I find this hard to believe of you, Saxton," he said at last, "You have eluded me the longest because you have been so careful with your agreements, I cannot see one of your training swept up in the hopeless dreams which blow in from the Street."
"Look at the list," Saxton persisted. "What I choose to blend is no concern of the apothecary. State your terms and let us be done."
Basil's frown deepened and he rubbed his chin. "You have not yet worked off your existing debt," he said. "Yet, for the first time, you are willing to borrow even more and for a formula not of your own making. Tell me what you are about, Saxton, and then once I understand, perhaps the arrangement will be easier."
"Your terms," Saxton said, and Alodar felt the alchemist sag his other hand on his shoulder as well.
"But these are not inexpensive ingredients," Basil said. "Why for the shrieking mandrake alone, to root them out I must use trained dogs with wax plugging their ears. And the peat tar is dug underneath light-tight sheds. The sparkle of a single star would destroy it all."
"Terms, your terms," Saxton said as he collapsed his full weight down upon Alodar's support.
"Very well," Basil replied with a sudden edge to his voice. "Keep your petty secrets, but remember well when you crawl back in less than a month's time that it was not I who was inflexible on alternatives." He stopped and twisted his face in thought. "Twenty years of service for both you and the novice against three hundred brandels on our agreed upon date," he said at last. "Is your formula so precious that you will risk terms such as those?"
"Twenty years is not a fair price," Saxton said. "It should be five at the most and we would agree to that most reluctantly."
"I care not to waste my time in bargaining. Twenty years is the only price," Basil snapped back. "I have waited too long for this opportunity."
"Then perhaps, Alodar, we can reconsider," Saxton said. "It is not the first time I have abandoned a formula before completion. You have taken to the craft well and there will be more opportunity to make our fortune."
"Accepted," Alodar said, ignoring the alchemist's argument. "I would rather deal with this apothecary no further, but if this is our only choice, then we will take it. If we succeed with the formula, the cost for the peat tar and the rest will be unimportant."
"You accept?" Basil said. "Twenty years and less than a month's time?"
For a moment there was silence and Alodar looked over his shoulder at the alchemist. "Accepted," Saxton said weakly with a wave of his hand. "It is as the novice states. If we succeed, then it will not matter."
"To the shed on the mountainside then," Basil said slowly as his frown of puzzlement returned. "We will seal the agreement there and arrange the details for the delivery of the ingredients to your shop."
Basil turned and headed upwards. Saxton shuffled by Alodar to follow. "Twenty years," the alchemist muttered as he passed. "Would we fare even as well as Eldan in such a time?"
"We quest, do we not?" Alodar replied. "The potential of such adversity spurs us onwards to our goal."
"Yes," Saxton said, "but the next step could fail all sixty-three times, regardless of our motivation."
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Random Factors Align
ALODAR dumped a bucket of oily water into the gutter and slumped to the planked curbing. He kneaded the tired muscles in his neck and looked up into the early evening sky. It seems bright enough now, he thought as he saw the disk of the moon balanced like a platter above the roof-line across the street. He hoped Saxton's decision to wait three days until it was full was the right one. Even foregoing all time at Cedric's and spending two full weeks working the formula, there was little time to spare.
Alodar stretched his arms over his head and frowned. It was well enough for Saxton to propose a few days rest to uncoil his knotted muscles in some tavern, but it had only given Alodar pause for the first time in months to consider deeply the path he had chosen.
All of this effort for only four samples. Four small vials, filled with what looked like motley collections of tiny colored beads. But when held to the eye, each globule was a many-faceted crystal, able to withstand great stresses without breaking, stresses from grinding forces or searing heat. Surely one tube would produce the ointment for which they had struggled. Four chances to soften the crystals into a thick gel; then for each that succeeded, one additional procedure to make the ointment safe for contact with bare skin. With four vials, they could expect the contents of two to transmute properly, and then one of them to be rendered harmless as well.
Two steps but with only four samples remaining. Alodar pursed his lips and shook his head. When they had six stages to go and sixty-three chances, Saxton's caution in the mines had seemed hard to understand. But now the outcomes could be enumerated on one's fingers and the boldness of their pledge seemed a much greater folly.
Each result was random. If the last step failed on the first attempt, then there would be one chance in two that all this work would have gone for nothing. Or if none of the four vials liquified in the way they wished, then Basil's factory, not wealth and glory, would be the final reality.
Alodar closed his eyes and tried to recall Vendora's beauty, to taste again his anger at Feston's ridicule, to feel the prickly bitterness at Festil's blind rejection. But the images of half a year ago were blurred and fuzzy, the hunger and pain at Iron Fist buried far beneath the numbness that rode on top of his thoughts.
Was it so important, he puzzled. Could he not instead steal away in the night, perhaps to the kingdoms to the south or even to Arcadia across the sea? Cedric did not seem to value greatly the opinion of those who buzzed about the royal court. Was such respect worth the risk be ran to gain it?
>
Alodar breathed deeply and then let the air out through his nostrils. No, there was first the question of honor. Saxton was enmeshed in this as deeply as he, and they must share the peril as well as the potential for great gain.
A sudden crash from the interior of the shop broke Alodar out of his reverie and he sprang to his feet. For a moment there was silence, and then he heard the crunch of glass grinding underfoot. He kicked the bucket out of his way and dashed into the storefront, looking for the sword and shield Cedric had lent him for practice. As he stooped and thrust his hand through the enarmes, a massive figure loomed in the workroom doorway.
"Rendrac!" Alodar shouted as the form came forward into the candlelight. "What cause have you to be in the confines of Saxton's shop?"
"No bar did you have on the workroom rear door and Basil is most curious about your formula," Rendrac said. "He will reward me well when I tell him something of it."
Alodar raised his swordpoint In front of his chest. "You will learn nothing of it here tonight," he said slowly. "Be gone and return only if we need more ingredients from your master."
Rendrac smiled and stepped forward, fingering the hilt of the sword at his side. "And I leave when it suits my own purpose," he growled. "Not the whim of a mere novice."
Alodar took a deep breath and tightened the grip on his blade. His heart began to race and his eyes widened as he looked up at the giant coming towards him. He ran through his mind his sparring yard training and set his jaw in a determined line. It must come to a true test sooner or later, he thought, and defending the four vials was as worthy a cause as any.
