Alchymist

'Let me see if I'm following your train of thought,' said Yggur. 'You're thinking that we should try to deliberately create such auras, even magnify them.'

'Yes. If we can find ones that work at a distance, perhaps we can imprint your controller aura onto them. I may be able to change your controller to do that.'

'Hmn,' Yggur said doubtfully. 'If by some chance we did manage to send such a signal, how would we take command of the controller of the flying construct? How would we control it? And how stop its operator from taking it back? The most likely result would be no effect at all. If it did work, the construct would doubtless fall out of the air, and all in it be destroyed.'

'We'll never know unless we try.'

The next couple of weeks were spent in the most tedious of labour, investigating hedrons of various types, and other kinds of crystals, to determine the nature of auras that could be induced from them. Irisis did most of this work, assisted somewhat uncomfortably by Fyn-Mah. And every time Flydd entered the room, she turned her dark eyes on him, gazing at him with that deferential longing that Irisis found so irritating. If you want him, she thought, go after him!

None of the rock crystals proved good enough, but one day Irisis discovered, in forgotten vats of brine in Yggur's cellars, crystals of various coloured salts that had grown slowly over a hundred years. One particular crystal had the most powerful aura of all. Using similar crystals grown painstakingly from special salt solutions, with layers of a second and third crystal grown over the top, she built a controller which, through a kind of ethyric transfer no one understood, would cause an ordinary controller in the next room to mimic it. Even Xervish Flydd was impressed.

But will it work in the real world?' asked Yggur. 'That's the question.'

'We won't know until we try,' said Flydd. 'I'll have the air-floater loaded with supplies. We'll fly direct to Stassor, find Tiaan or the other flying construct, and test it.'

'What if the transfer controller fails?' said Yggur. 'The construct will fall out of the sky, destroying itself and everyone in it. We must test it here first, and know it will work perfectly every time.'

Fifty-seven

Several days later, Yggur came striding down the hall, his stern face alive. 'Come into my workroom,' he said to Flydd, Nish and Irisis, who were warming their hands on mugs of tea beside an inadequate fire. 'I've something to show you.'

'What's the matter?' snapped the scrutator, whose own work was going badly. 'Surely you're not asking us for help?'

The chilly dignity took over again. 'Come inside.' Yggur caught Flydd by the arm, gesturing to Nish and Irisis with his other hand.

They followed him into his workroom. 'Flydd, would you operate this for me?' Yggur handed him the little beetle flier. It's much improved from the one I had when you came to Fiz Gorgo.'

The scrutator touched the device, which hummed to life and rose unsteadily in the air.

'Fly it around the room, any way you choose.' Yggur put the transfer controller in his pocket and went into the adjoining room. 'When I try to take over, fight hard against it.'

'It'll be a pleasure,' Flydd said with a wicked gleam in his eye. He moved his hands. The flier shot just over Nish's head, ruffling his hair. Flydd made a hasty gesture; it turned the other way. 'Stupid thing!' the scrutator said.

'Gentle movements,' said Irisis, who had spent long hours watching Yggur master the art of controlling the flier. 'You've got to have a calm mind.'

Remarkably, in a few minutes Flydd had gained enough control to keep it circling around the centre of the room, using just the movement of one hand. It was a strain, though; he had to sit down and his fingers had stiffened into hooked claws.

'Ready?' Yggur called.

Flydd massaged his fingers until they would straighten.

'Yes.'

The beetle flier kept circling, its pattern unchanged. Minutes passed.

'Knew it couldn't be done,' Flydd muttered. His gnarly hand was shaking. 'How much longer do I have to keep it up?'

Yggur put his head around the door. 'What's happening?'

'Absolutely nothing,' Flydd said with great cheer.

Yggur scowled. 'All right, bring it back to the table.'

'Can't you do that yourself?'

'It's keyed to you and your Art, until you release it or I break your hold.'

Flydd brought the flier down to the table. It landed on its side and thumped over onto its iridescent back. He touched it and the hum died.

'No luck?' said Flydd, not displeased that the great Yggur had failed in front of witnesses.

'You can leave now,' said Yggur evenly.

They hurried to the door. Irisis lingered, looking back at him. 'You too!' he said in a forbidding voice. 'I've not had a second's peace since you arrived.'

That afternoon Yggur called them back. There was no sign of his earlier euphoria. He sat with both elbows on the table, chin cupped in his hands, staring at the transfer controller.

'All right, let's try it again.' He went into the other room.

Flydd sent the flier up and circled it over their heads. There was silence from beyond the door. After a few minutes, the scrutator felt confident enough to try more complicated patterns: a series of vertical figure-eights, followed by a flat spiral down to the floor, another back up to the ceiling.

Yggur cursed and banged something on the wall. It sounded like his head, thud-thud-thud. The flier dipped sharply, flipped end for end and slammed into a stack of books on the table. It spun around on its curved back, making a whistling hum, struck a pile of papers and sent them whirling into the air. The hum died away. Yggur burst through the doorway. 'What about that?' 'Fabulous!' said Irisis, running towards him. She stopped abruptly. 'What have you done to the scrutator?'

Xervish Flydd lay on his side behind the big table, his arms clutched to his chest. One knee was drawn up; the other leg licked feebly, and his bloodshot eyes stared at the ceiling, unblinking.

Falling to her knees beside him, Irisis put her head on his chest. 'His heart's going like a racehorse but his eyes are blank. What have you done to him, Yggur?'

'Seizing control can be.., traumatic to the mind,' said Yggur, who looked rather shaky himself. 'Both minds, as it happens. I thought he'd be strong enough to endure it.'

'Did you warn him, so that he could prepare himself?' she snapped. Irisis was a terrier when her friends were in trouble.

'I wanted his reactions to be as natural as possible. Anyway, he's been working with the Art for most of his life. He knew the risks.'

'I'd hate to be one of your enemies,' muttered Irisis, 'if this is the way you treat your friends.'

Yggur put his hands on Flydd's head, and then on his chest. 'I don't have any friends, thankfully. He'll recover in an hour or two. Take him to his room and let him sleep, and don't come back. I've got a lot of work to do before we try again.'

The scrutator recovered with no more harm than a piercing headache and a furious temper. He seemed to think that he had, somehow, been unmanned, which made Irisis even more livid. However, in the morning he was ready to try again.

'Are you sure you're prepared for this?' said Irisis. 'Do you want me to take your place?'

'I don't think that's such a good idea,' Flydd said without elaboration. 'I know what to expect now.'

They began again. The iridescent metal bug flew in figure-eights about half a span below the ceiling. Flydd stood leaning against the table, his eyes following the flier, his fingers barely moving.

Time passed. Nothing happened. 'What's Yggur doing, do you think?' whispered Nish.

'I haven't got a clue.'

Flydd groaned and slipped to one knee, but his fingers kept moving and the flier held to its pattern. There came a cry from the next room, swiftly cut off.

Nish thought he detected a faint smile on the scrutator's face. 'He's not letting go this time,' he said quietly to Irisis. 'He's making Yggur work for it.'