“Worse,” Jerry said glumly. “This code is protected by being write-only.”
“Eh?” said Bal-Simba.
“Wiz hacked this thing together to do a specific job, right? From the looks of it he was in a tremendous hurry when he did it.”
“I was a prisoner of the Dark League,” Moira said in a small voice. “He wrote the spell to find me.”
“Okay, he needed it fast. He never expected that anyone else would use it, he used the quickest, dirtiest methods he could find, he didn’t worry about conforming to his language specification and he didn’t bother commenting on it at all.” Jerry looked at the glowing letters again and shook his head. “I don’t think he could have understood this stuff a month after he wrote it and I don’t have the faintest idea what is going on here.”
“This,” he said pointing to a single line of half a dozen symbols, “apparently does about four different things. Either that or it’s some kind of weird jump instruction.” He scowled at the code for a minute. “Anyway, the whole program is like that. I don’t see three lines in a row any place in this that I understand.”
“We do not need to understand the spell,” Bal-Simba rumbled. “We only need to use it this once.”
Jerry shook his head. “It’s not that simple. What are the commands? What are the options you can use? How is it all supposed to work? You already tried this and it failed. Until we understand it we won’t know why it failed.”
“How long will it take you to find out?”
Jerry shrugged.
“I don’t know. The hardest part of a job like this is always getting your head cranked around to see the other guy’s way of doing things. Once you do that, sometimes it just falls right into place.” He frowned. “And sometimes not. Anyway, I’ll put a couple of people on it. I wouldn’t count on being able to use this any time soon, though.”
“Hopes raised and dashed before breakfast,” Bal-Simba said as they walked across the courtyard. “I am sorry, My Lady. I thought surely we had found the answer.”
Moira clenched her jaw and held her head high. Bal-Simba saw she was crying. “There is still one thing we may try,” she said tightly. “I will go to Duke Aelric and plead for his help.”
Bal-Simba stopped dead. “What?”
“Elven magic is much more powerful than human. Surely they can find him.”
“I was under the impression that duke Aelric was already looking for Wiz.”
“Then we can share what we know.”
“Dealing with elves is dangerous,” Bal-Simba said neutrally.
Moira flicked a grim little smile. “Madness, you mean. But Aelric seems to have a fondness for Wiz and I think he might listen to me.”
“I ought to forbid you to do this.”
Moira resumed walked. “Forbid away. But do not expect me to heed you.”
The hill managed to be peaceful and foreboding at the same time. The moonlight played down on the wooded knoll, silvering the leaves of the trees and the grassy clearing before them.
But the moon also caught the megalith standing at the base of the hill where woods met grass. Three great stones, two upright and one laid across them like the lintel of a door. Was it only a trick of the moonlight that made the shadows within stir?
Moira licked her lips and pressed them firmly together. In spite of her cloak she was chill and she did not think the warm summer night had much to do with it. She took a firmer grip on her staff and strode boldly into the clearing.
“I wish to speak to Duke Aelric,” she said loudly.
There was no response, no movement. The hill lay in the moonlight exactly as it had. Moira thought of repeating her request and decided against it. Elves were a touchy breed and much consumed with politeness. A human thought pushy or demanding would be in dire trouble.
“My Lady.”
Moira jumped. Duke Aelric was standing in the moonlight in front of her. He wore a white doublet and hose embroidered with silver that glinted in the moonlight and a hip-length cloak of pale blue.