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Dorcas stepped forward.

Thaxton held up something shiny. "I have here in my hand a coin, a shilling, which I've been carrying in my pocket for a good while now, not having any place to spend it. I'm going to ask Her Highness to make this coin invisible."

Thaxton gave Dorcas the coin. Dorcas held her right hand palm up and placed the coin in it. She brought her other hand down on top of it and stretched her arms out. Then she began to speak some strange words, a few sentences. When she was done, she held her stance for a moment longer, eyes shut.

She took her left hand away. The right was, apparently, empty.

No one seemed impressed.

"Mere legerdemain," someone said.

Dalton came to her, bearing a small cast-iron pot with a metal handle such as would be found in the castle kitchens. He held it below the princess's outstretched hand.

Dorcas slowly tilted her right hand. Something in the bucket clinked.

Mild surprise was evinced. Dalton shook the pot and it rattled dutifully. Thaxton reached his hand and seemed to pick something up. He held his hand up.

"As you can see… rather, as you cannot see, the coin is invisible." He poised his hand over the pot, and the pot clinked again. Thaxton repeated the action. He then picked the invisible object out of the pot again.

"My lord, if you would be so kind?"

Uncertain, Lord Arl looked around, touched his chest and said, "Are you addressing me?"

"Yes, my lord. Please take this coin so that everyone knows no sleight-of-hand was involved."

Reluctantly, Lord Arl came forward. Thaxton handed him nothing.

Arl took the non-thing and hefted it. He nodded. "I feel it. It's invisible all right." He handed it back to Thaxton.

"Thank you, my lord. Now, Her Royal Highness has told me that she did not put so great a charge on the coin as the instructions call for. Consequently, it should become visible very shortly."

Thaxton knelt, tilted his hand. There came the unmistakable sound of a coin clinking against the stone floor and settling into a spin. The sound eventually stopped.

Thaxton rose and stepped back, his eyes on the floor. The crowd edged closer.

It took about a minute. Suddenly, the shilling appeared on the floor.

Thaxton picked it up and pocketed it. He looked over heads and made a motion.

Two servants moved a table to the back of the room, and the crowd shifted, clearing a way to it.

Thaxton took a handful of something from another servant. "I have here about half a dozen common tavern darts," he said, holding them up, "borrowed from the Peele Castle recreation room. On the far wall ― there, in front ― we have placed a target such as could be found in any pub in half a hundred worlds."

Dorcas approached the circular target, reached out, and touched the center ring with her right index finger. Then she accompanied Thaxton to the table, which stood about forty feet away.

Dorcas took a seat at the table. Thaxton handed her a dart. She took it and laid it on the table in front of her. She then began to trace complex patterns above it with both hands. This done, she picked it up with her left hand and gently stroked it with her right.

"I bid thee fly, and strike where I laid my touch."

She handed it to Thaxton. He took it, faced the target, made a few peremptory motions, and threw.

Forty feet away, the dart struck the target dead center.

Dorcas was already working on a second dart. Her preparations done, she gave it over to Thaxton. This time Thaxton faced in the opposite direction and threw the dart over his shoulder.

The dart flew with amazing and quite unjustifiable speed toward the round corkboard target, thunking squarely into the inner ring, tight against its mate.

The crowd by this time was quite impressed.

Thaxton took another prepared dart. He faced the target this time, and simply held the dart between thumb and forefinger. He relaxed the pressure of his fingers and the dart jumped from his hand, streaking to the target with astonishing speed.

Thaxton threw the fourth dart toward the left wall. The dart's curving trajectory led it inevitably toward the front of the room and the target. It struck the bull's-eye with a solid thud.

Thaxton said, "My lords and ladies, what you have seen is simple parlor magic. Real magic, to be sure, not sleight-of-hand or illusion, but ― nevertheless ― quite trivial. The spells employed came from a book."

Dalton handed it to him.

"They come, in fact, from this arcane tome, my lords and ladies. The Book of Magical Diversions by Baldor of the Cairn. This copy comes from the Peele Library, and I'm told it's been there for generations, quite conceivably dating to the time when the castle was occupied by the aboriginals of this aspect. I am also informed, by qualified scholars, that the book originated in this world, and is in fact the only volume extant dealing in the magic here. As you have no doubt by now guessed, these two spells ― the Coin Invisible and the Charmed Dart, could be combined into something quite deadly."

A wave of murmuring realization spread through the assembled nobility.

"Yes, I think you all see what I'm driving at. Some adaptation would be necessary, but the two innocuous spells you have just seen could be cobbled together into an effective assassination spell. A malevolent spell of black magic."

Thaxton set the book on the table. "Of course, the question is, who did the thing? Let's tick off a list of qualifications which any suspect must have. First, he or she must be an adept magician. That would include a large portion of the population of Castle Perilous. But the degree of skill would have to be rather high. High enough to exclude the average magician, which would eliminate most of the castle's Guest population except for a very few, but would include most if not all the castle nobility. And as no Guests were present at the princess's fête, we must cross them off the list entirely. No, only members of the castle's noble families would qualify."

Thaxton began walking the perimeter of the circle of noble men and women who had gathered round.

"It's clear we're still not very near the point where the identity of the murderer becomes obvious, for this book has been sitting on the shelf in the Peele library for centuries. Anyone could have read it, anyone here. But perhaps it would be helpful to find out who read it recently, or who could have read it recently. And for that we need another book. Peele Castle's guest book."

Bearing a folio1 volume, Ruford pardoned his way past his betters. He handed Thaxton the book.

"As you know," Thaxton continued, "it's customary for Peele guests to sign in and check out, hotel-style, so that charges for food, servant wages, and overhead can be assessed. Let's take a look at those who recently stayed at Peele, shall we?"

Thaxton opened the book. "And we find something very remarkable. The half-dozen most recent guests include three individuals who have or had a motive to commit the murder. Lady Rilma, for one." Thaxton stopped in front of her. "It that not true, my lady?"

Lady Rilma drew herself up. "This is an outrage." She glowered at Tyrene. "I will not be browbeaten by this barbarian upstart."

"But you did read the book, my lady, did you not?"

"I certainly don't remember."

"We have testimony from one of the chambermaids. She remembers seeing the Baldor book lying on your night table."

"The word of an illiterate chambermaid ―!"

"Who happens to be doing graduate work in magic at the University of Thule. Shall I have the young lady come down and give oral testimony? Tyrene has her deposition already."

Lady Rilma seemed about to explode. "All right! Yes, I read the book. Of what significance is that?"

"None, my lady, except that you hated your husband. He was malicious, boorish, ruthless, and cruel beyond belief, in addition to being an incorrigible philanderer."