The spectators were looking bewildered. They had seen the Magician twist around, then collapse as if shot. Niall could sense that, like him, they hoped he was dead. He also knew that when they realized he was still alive, they would almost certainly panic, knowing from experience that he would blame them. With five hundred people packed shoulder to shoulder, anything might happen.
Niall acted swiftly. Striding across to the mayoress, he entered her brain and suggested that she should take charge. Selena brushed past the Reapers of the guards, and said in a clear voice: “The karvasid is ill. Carry him to the palace.”
The two giants who had been bending ineffectually over the fallen man now raised him between them by placing their arms under his. He hung loose for a moment, his feet off the ground like a rag doll’s, until two more guards took his feet and two more raised the middle of his body. The six men began carrying him, headfirst, up the hill. Niall walked beside them for a moment, long enough to ascertain that the Magician was still alive, although obviously dazed and stunned.
Major Baltiger had now taken the initiative, telling the crowd telepathically: “Please disperse to your homes.” Niall felt relieved when they began to drift away — he was still afraid the Magician would recover enough to order the soldiers to open fire.
The blow and the shock had left him feeling oddly disconnected, but since he was weightless, he could stand without dizziness. He still had no idea what had happened and why the Magician had collapsed.
He removed the globe from the pocket of his tunic, noting that his fingertips felt tender, as if burned. Until his hand touched it, it felt as insubstantial as a ball of cotton wool, but as soon as he held it between his palms, it became solid and pleasantly cool, soothing the burned fingers. As soon as he focused on it, the disorientation vanished, to be succeeded by a glow of energy. The pain in his fingertips immediately disappeared.
As he entered the world of the crystal, he became aware of the damage. The lattice had been ripped apart by a force too powerful for its strands to absorb. It reminded Niall of the web of a domestic spider through which some child has thrown a stone.
And now suddenly he understood exactly what had happened to the Magician. Like Niall, he knew how to draw energy from the crystal, and to launch this energy like a thunderbolt. Niall shuddered as he thought of what would have happened if he had not been carrying the crystal globe; the force would have destroyed him like a dry leaf in a bonfire.
But since his hand was resting on his own crystal, the force had been instantly absorbed, as if by a lightning conductor. It had then gone on to drain the energy from the Magician’s globe. As the conduit through which this tremendous force had passed, the Magician had also been drained of energy and knocked unconscious.
As always, Niall felt soothed and refreshed by his contact with the crystal. When his mind came back to the present, he was alone, and the bridge was empty. The Magician and the soldiers who were carrying him had disappeared uphill; only two soldiers had been left on guard at the bridge.
Niall started to walk toward the palace. But as he approached the kalinda tree, and began to feel its force sucking him toward it, the absurdity of again being trapped in the glass cylinder made him smile. He closed his eyes and imagined the inner courtyard of the palace. When he opened them, he was there.
It was strangely empty and silent. The great brass-studded door that led into the Magician’s tower stood open, and for a moment, Niall wondered if he had already been carried inside. Then, through the arched tunnel that led to the outer courts and the drawbridge, he saw the Magician approaching. He was walking slowly, but was unsupported by the two red-haired guards on either side. His hood was turned back, and he was again wearing the false cranium, which transformed his head into a gigantic dome.
His face looked older than when Niall had last seen it, and the skin had taken on a yellow tinge. His slow steps made it clear that he was weak and tired. Then, just as Niall was beginning to feel sorry for him, he stumbled on a projecting paving stone and turned furiously on the guards. “Get that repaired immediately.” Clearly, his temper was as short as ever.
The guards were ordered to wait outside, and Niall followed the Magician as he mounted the stairs alone. The progression up five flights of spiral staircase was slow, and Niall kept his distance. The last thing he wanted was to have his presence detected; he reasoned that the boca would only attack him on the Magician’s orders, and therefore that while the Magician did not know he was there, he was safe.
Surprisingly, the Magician seemed to gain strength as he climbed, and by the time they reached the fifth floor, was walking almost normally. His personal guards were still in the corridor, and one of thetn hastened to open the door. The Magician hurried past him, limping with exhaustion, and slumped into the armchair. For a moment the skin of his jaw became slack, and he looked like a man close to death. Then, as tlie guard was about to shut the door, he said brusquely: “Wait. Go down and send Captain Zadin to me.”
A few minutes later, the red-haired giant was stooping to enter the door, obviously wondering whether he had caused offense. The Magician asked: “Do you know the names of those people who were at the front of the mob?”
Standing rigidly to attention, the captain said: “They were members of the Citizens’ Committee, sir.”
“I want you to arrest them. Bring them all back here and take them to the cells.”
With a sinking feeling, Niall realized that his hopes of peace and reconciliation had been unrealistic. The Magician was as full of malice as ever.
As soon as the guard had gone, the Magician closed his eyes and leaned his head against the backrest; the sallow skin was wrinkled and flabby, and the eyelids looked as if they were made of decaying rubber. For a long time, as the silence lengthened, he stared into space.
Niall now noticed for the first time two nearly transparent troglas who were hovering in the vicinity of the black cabinet. Their motion seemed oddly purposeless, like the fluttering of moths round a candle flame. The boca, which was still crouched by the armchair in the window corner, was watching them intently. It was obvious that the Magician was unable to see them.
After perhaps a quarter of an hour, he opened his eyes, forced himself painfully to his feet with his hands on the chair arms, and hobbled to the black cabinet. He opened a bench drawer, took out a key, and unlocked the door. Its inside seemed to be covered in hoarfrost. The two troglas fluttered closer, as if trying to force their way inside.
From the top shelf, the Magician removed a flask half-full of some blue liquid, and undipped a metal catch that held its lid in place. A blue vapor rose from it, and the troglas pressed closer. As they did so, they became more visible, and their hands and feet could be seen. The ozone smell of the liquid filled the room: the smell of the life-fluid.
The Magician poured a few drops into a beaker, raised it to his lips, and took a sip. The effect was startling. Within seconds, his cheeks had lost their yellowish tinge and the wrinkles vanished as the skin of his face seemed to tighten on the bones. Moments later, spots of color appeared on his cheeks and his eyes became almost feverishly bright. Suddenly he was twenty years younger.
He drained the beaker, and returned the flask to the cabinet with the firmness of a vigorous and healthy man.
In a sudden insight, Niall understood the purpose of this laboratory and of the glass cylinder. The Magician’s driving purpose was to learn the secret sought by philosophers since Cornelius Agrippa: the elixir of life. Even the troglas looked more alive after inhaling its vapors.
After locking the cabinet, the Magician, his movements now firm and decisive, took from his pocket the crystal globe and raised it within a few inches of his eyes. As he held it by the fingertips of his left hand, it began to glow, but no longer with the same fierce light as before. Although it illuminated the room, it was no longer with the blinding radiance that had driven the boca to retreat.
Niall looked nervously down at this own body. To his relief it remained invisible. The globe obviously had lost most of its strength.
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