‘So,’ von Stralick continued, ‘we have an unholy alliance here. Our Baron von Grolman and your Dr Tremaine united for the Holmland war effort, pursuing nefarious, top secret plans.’
‘So it would seem,’ Aubrey said. ‘You wouldn’t have any idea exactly what they’re up to, would you?’
‘Exactly? No, I wouldn’t say we know exactly. But look at this.’ He signalled to one of the other Enlightened Ones. A tall Oriental woman handed a wooden box the size of a large bible to von Stralick. He thanked her. ‘We captured this sample from a rail delivery two days ago.’
‘I assume the train would be armed,’ Caroline said. ‘For a delivery to a top secret facility, it would stand to reason. How did you get the sample?’
Madame Zelinka pursed her lips. ‘Some of our people have expertise in shrouding magic. The train slows down for a sharp bend a mile or so to the south. They were on and off before anyone knew it.’
Von Stralick grinned. ‘Katya is quite bloodthirsty, too. Something about revenge for Holmland aggression in Veltrania.’
Veltrania. Aubrey glanced at the tea-bringing Katya, a slim, serious-looking woman in her thirties. She had prominent cheekbones. Aubrey wondered if she knew Rodolfo and his people.
Von Stralick put the box on his lap and fiddled with the top before removing it with a sound of satisfaction.
‘Clay,’ Caroline said. She looked at Aubrey, waiting.
‘It’s more than just clay.’ Aubrey could feel it from where he was, playing on his skin like a swarm of tiny insects. ‘It’s potentialised clay.’ He looked through the basement wall, through the ceiling, through the farmhouse to where Baron von Grolman’s factory was waiting. ‘They’re making golems.’
Twenty-four
This announcement prompted a buzz from the Enlightened Ones. ‘We thought so,’ Madame Zelinka said. ‘None of us has skill with golem magic, but Katya thought she recognised the material.’
‘Potentialised clay,’ Sophie said. ‘What is that?’
Aubrey held out a hand, as if he were warming it by a fire. ‘I can feel the magic that this clay has already been imbued with.’ He didn’t tell them that it was a sonorous droning, like a hive of extremely large bees. The confusing mix of sensations, where touch and sound could meld, where taste and sight could interweave, was an aspect of magical awareness that was hard to explain to those not endowed. ‘It’s heavily steeped in spells. The Law of Animation, the Law of Elastic Deformation, the Law of...’ His voice dwindled. He reached out and broke off a thumbnailsized piece of clay. ‘It’s special,’ he finished lamely. And it’s certainly Dr Tremaine’s work, he thought. It has the hallmarks of his magic.
Aubrey was able to admit he admired Dr Tremaine’s genius. It was extremely clever, working like this. Potentialising the clay in bulk allowed the rogue sorcerer to divide his efforts. He could roam about, tending to his plots and schemes, while the factory churned out golem after golem without his having to be there.
Aubrey was rolling the clay into a ball between his fingertips when a thought came to him and he stopped, frozen. ‘You said this came from a train.’
‘Indeed,’ Madame Zelinka said. ‘I know this is not our task, but Katya wouldn’t be stopped.’
‘A train.’
‘That is what I said.’
Aubrey’s mind was measuring. ‘How many carriages?’
‘Six.’ It was Katya who spoke, in deeply guttural Albionish.
‘Six carriages full of clay?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s a lot of golems,’ George said, saying aloud what everyone was thinking.
‘It wasn’t the only train this week,’ von Stralick said. ‘Three others have made deliveries.’
Aubrey started rolling the clay again as he thought. Such an amount of potentialised clay. Combine it with the revolutionary golem-making machinery that allowed non-magicians to manufacture golems and it had the making of...
‘George, what does an army need most of?’
‘Dashed if I know, old man. Food?’
‘Infantry,’ Caroline said. ‘Foot soldiers, ground troops, call them what you will.’
‘With enough infantry,’ Aubrey said, absently working the clay in his hands, ‘generals can keep throwing troops at an enemy until they’re overwhelmed. Especially if they’re fit and trained troops.’
‘Finding infantry is harder and harder, as wars wear on,’ Caroline said slowly and Aubrey knew she had it. She looked at him with fear in her eyes. ‘But how will we know if we’re right?’
‘Right about what?’ Sophie said, looking from one to the other. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘That factory could be making golem soldiers,’ Aubrey said.
‘A golem army,’ Caroline said.
The basement became a much grimmer place. The Enlightened Ones protested and argued, but Aubrey could see that none of them were Holmland supporters. Even so, some were sceptical.
‘How can we find out for sure?’ George asked.
Aubrey held up the piece of clay. It was now a rough, four-limbed creature. ‘Send a golem to catch a golem, I always say.’
Basic golem making had been something Aubrey had experimented with in the past. It had come in handy when he needed to explore the burnt church in the Mire. With a supply of potentialised clay at hand, it was the perfect stratagem. Explore, reconnoitre, report, then plan.
The limited amount of clay was not a handicap. Aubrey had never been able to master the intricacies of building full-sized human golems. He’d quickly learned that his best expression was in tiny mannikins, hand-sized figures with limited capabilities. Movement, observation and reporting was the limit of their endeavour, but within that they were surprisingly resourceful, able to overcome obstacles in their way, brimming with the desire to fulfil whatever mission Aubrey had charged them with.
Firstly, he had to neutralise the clay, to remove any possibility of Dr Tremaine’s magic interfering with his. Neutralising was usually a straightforward process, something every young magician learned when beginning magical studies, but Aubrey was left sweating and shaking by the time he rendered the clay harmless. Dr Tremaine’s magic was stubborn.
Not resting, he pushed on. George and Caroline took von Stralick and Madame Zelinka aside, and together they pored over a large map spread on the table. Most of the Enlightened Ones spread themselves about the farm, wearing stolen Holmland military uniforms so as not to appear out of place as they busied themselves, but three or four of them hovered in the basement, watching him working. In them, he saw the professional regard that magicians shared, and he was also pleased at Sophie’s attention. She had a habit of holding one of her gold ear-studs when concentrating. While he was working, both gold orbs were being brought to a high polish.
He tore fist-sized chunks of clay from the box until Sophie took over that task, rolling the clay into manageable pieces. The rest was up to him.
He retrieved his golem spell from his memory, turned it around and inspected it only to find, as was his wont, that he wanted to make improvements. Sophie found paper and pencil and he’d soon scrawled out the spell components so he could study them while he gnawed on the pencil.
Three full versions later, and half a dozen minor embellishments, he had a spell he was happy with. It was tighter, with less room for error, and he’d built in an element of connectivity so he could feel the whereabouts of each mannikin at a distance.
Then it was a matter of making little human-shaped figures. Not much artistic skill was required, which was fortunate as Aubrey understood his limits in this area. Head, arms, legs was all that was needed, roughly in proportion. He inscribed each mannikin with an animating symbol on its forehead. This was a flourish, for the spell would take care of all the necessary animating, but the symbol did tend to ground the spell, keeping it within the confines of the clay bodies that he was working with.