The clerk sprang to his feet and scurried toward the door marked PRIVATE.
“I’ll see if the Steward will receive you!”
“Hey, thanks! Nice of you.”
The clerk knocked first before he opened the door a crack and edged through.
“Nice day,” Trent told the woman.
“Very nice,” she said, nodding. She sat back down, fanned herself briefly with a file folder, then resumed pecking away at the anomalous typewriter.
Presently the clerk poked his head out.
“The Steward will see you.”
“Oh? Well, that’s kind of him, I must say. Thank you. Thank you very much.”
The clerk ushered Trent in and slinked out, closing the door.
Trent surveyed the office into which he had stepped. It was in sharp contrast to the anteroom. The carpeting was thick enough to hide grazing sheep. The room was comfortably furnished in leathers, the walls covered in damask. A marble fireplace stood to one side, burning cheerily. Various objets d’art supplied accents around the room: vases, statuary, decorated glass, a painting here and there.
The man at the desk had a long beard and wore a traditional conical cap with stars and crescent moons. He rose in greeting.
“Welcome, Trent, brother of Incarnadine.”
“Hello. I have the honor of addressing —?”
“Mylor, at your service, my lord.”
“I hope I am not disturbing you?”
“Not at all. Please sit down. May I offer you refreshment?”
“None, thank you.”
“Please, my lord, make yourself comfortable.”
Trent took his seat in one of the wing chairs by the fireplace. Mylor came round the desk and took the one opposite.
“How may I serve you, prince of Perilous?”
“Ah, so you know our home world?”
“Well. I’ve visited Castle Perilous on occasion. I was on good terms with your distinguished brother. A fine man. A great magician. One of the greatest, possibly, in the entire cosmos.”
“Yet someone here killed him.”
Mylor stared into the flames before saying, “You’re quite sure of that?”
“Yes. I recognize the hand at work. At least, I think I do. It could be one of a number of people, actually. But I do know this for sure. Somebody from Perilous is here and is working magic, possibly in conjunction with one of your people.”
Mylor continued to find something of interest in the flickering firelight.
After a long interval he stated, “This is very disturbing indeed.”
“All I ask of you is to tell me if there is someone from Perilous here. And if so, where is he?”
“My lord, you place me in an awkward situation.”
“No doubt.”
“On the one hand, I wish to see justice done. On the other, in my capacity as an official of the Guild I cannot betray a fellow member. If there has been wrongdoing, the matter must be handled by the Guild itself. I cannot in good conscience permit outside interference.”
“I understand,” Trent said. “But you must understand my position. I must bring my brother’s murderer to justice or my chance at the throne is in jeopardy.”
“I did not know you were the heir apparent.”
“There is some contention over that point. And now the shadow of suspicion falls on me concerning my brother’s death.”
“Naturally. Still, my lord, there is not much I can do save look into the matter myself with a view toward a possible internal investigation.”
“Pardon me for saying so, but I don’t trust the Guild to dispense justice. You guys run a cozy little club here. You look out for your own. My brother was doubtless viewed as an intruder here in this world —”
“He was a Guild member.”
“Naturally, Inky wouldn’t scab. But he was probably resented. After all, he was Court Magician to the Elector. A juicy little plum of a post.”
“And was soon to be appointed to the court of His Imperial Majesty.”
“Ah-hah.” Trent nodded appreciatively. “Thank you. Thank you very much for that. But I suppose you couldn’t tell me who else was in line for the job.”
“That I’m afraid I couldn’t do, no.”
“I see. Well, now I know the motive. It seems to me that a spell that could kill Inky would be a major one. I don’t quite understand how it could have overcome Inky’s defenses or how anyone here could have whipped up a spell that powerful. But it worked, so I have to assume it was a real lulu.”
“It still is.”
“Eh? You mean it’s still working?”
“Yes. It’s been giving me headaches for days. And my teeth hurt.”
“Still working,” Trent repeated with a puzzled frown. “I don’t get it.”
“Neither do I.”
“You know the source.”
“Naturally.”
“But you won’t reveal it.”
“I am constrained by many things, not the least of which is the penalty I would incur by violating my oath of membership in the Guild.”
“I quite understand. But can you tell me this? Does this big spell have transuniversal dimensions?”
“I suspect so. Otherwise I don’t understand the need for all the power. It’s been draining reserves around here.”
“And it’s still working. That’s a riddle, that is.”
“Perplexing. As I said, it’s putting a considerable strain on the local dynamics. I’d be most pleased if the spell were to cease operation.”
“Let me see if something can’t be done about that.”
“You’ll be going up against one of the best locals. He’s pretty good. And teamed up with your compatriot, he might be invincible.”
“You’re forgetting one thing,” Trent said. “The spell’s taking all his power.”
“Why, yes, of course. You’re absolutely right. Unless they can disengage it temporarily.”
“I’ve a hunch they can’t.”
“Let’s hope you’re right about that, too.”
“One more thing. If I can identify the vibrations, I can locate the source. But I’m not familiar enough with the local harmonics. Does your oath forbid coaching me?”
“Not at all. Though it might be difficult to do.”
“Can you give me a musical analogue?”
“That’s all you’d need?”
“I think.”
“Fine, but I don’t know your musical system.”
“You know the one Inky was fond of?”
“Oh. Yes, it’s similar to ours. Let’s see if I can …”
Mylor thought a moment.
“The spell’s carrier vibrations are tuned to the key of C-sharp minor, with modulations to A minor and F minor.”
“So that was what all that background spookiness I noticed on arrival here was? Thought it was just the magical din of the city.That’s the spell?”
“That’s it. Is that sufficient for you? You have perfect pitch, I take it.”
“Yes, a family trait.” Trent smiled. “You’ve been most helpful.”
“And I think I did it without risk of waking up someday with my body parts artfully positioned around the room.”
“You didn’t have to, but you did.”
Mylor smiled back. “I didn’t want you taking this place apart beam from rafter.”
Trent chuckled. “Sorry about that. Didn’t know what I was up against.”
“Sorry I didn’t recognize you right off. Should have.”
“’Tis nothing. Well, I shall be leaving.”
They rose and shook hands.
“Good luck,” Mylor said. “Of course, I’ll be starting an official investigation, the wheels of which will no doubt turn much too slowly for your satisfaction.”
“You’re right. But all I need is some proof, proof to take back and confront the Privy Council with. Or least firm knowledge of who the culprit was. I’ll try not to muddy the waters too much here. I just want my guy. Your guy I’ll leave to you.”