“Or to overcome that magical inertia, if you wish to look at it the first way,” Nirobus agreed. “There ought to be some way to do it, no matter which it is. Can you apply physics again?”
“Only what I learned in high school,” Matt admitted, shamefaced. He remembered a diagram of opposed forces. “It should just be a matter of energy. Whether it’s a wall, inertia, or an actual force pushing me away from Merovence, I only need to summon enough force to counter it… and something to push against.”
“A lever long enough to move you between worlds, to paraphrase Archimedes, and a fulcrum upon which to rest it?”
“Yeah.” For an instant, despair almost overwhelmed Matt. “But what kind of fulcrum? What kind of backstop? To push against something, say a piano you’re trying to roll onto a truck, you need to brace your feet against the ground… but how do you brace yourself when you’re trying to use magical force?”
“Perhaps you have the wrong analogy,” Nirobus suggested. “Perhaps you need an anchor, not a backstop.”
“Yes!” Matt lifted his head, hope rising again. “If I can throw the magical equivalent of a cable to someone in Merovence, he could pull me in… or at least anchor me so that my own efforts won’t push me away.”
“An excellent thought!” Nirobus nodded. “But your ‘anchor’ would have to be a magician himself. Who do you know who could do it?”
“Oh, that’s no problem… Saul! The Witch Doctor! He’s common to both universes… born in this one, same as I was, but happier in Merovence because he’s better suited to it!”
“Again, the same as you are,” Nirobus murmured.
“Yes!…What?”
“This is a very interesting metaphor you’ve constructed,” the older man said, amused. He waved a hand in a rolling motion. “Please go on. I take it you must establish some sort of contact with this witch doctor?”
“Yes! If he knows what’s going on, he can be my anchor.” Matt frowned. “If it’s just a matter of my trying to push against magical inertia, or break through an enchanted wall.”
“What else could it be?”
“Now that I think of it,” Matt said slowly, “I remember the magical force gathering around me, then abruptly disappearing, as though it had been deliberately canceled.”
“Do you really!”
Matt eyed the stranger warily. “You wouldn’t be a psychiatrist, would you?”
Nirobus held up both gloved hands, as though reaching for the sky. “Innocent.”
“Well, somebody isn’t. Whatever sorcerer is trying to strand me here is keeping a magical eye on me, just waiting for me to try to get home, then countering my spells, presumably with his own.”
Nirobus shook his head sadly. “If I were a psychiatrist… “
“Don’t worry, it’s all hypothetical.”
“Very reassuring. But, young man, do you really think your hypothetical sorcerer could spare all his time for surveillance of you?”
Matt caught the unspoken question: Do you really think you’re that important? Well, he knew he was, in Merovence, but had to admit to himself that there was a snag in the idea. “Good point. If he wants me out of the way, it’s because I’d be an obstacle to some major project he’s got going.”
“Could he assign a minion to surveillance of you?”
“Maybe,” Matt said slowly, “but why would the minion let me build up some power before he stopped me? Wouldn’t he have cut me off at the first sign of trying to return?”
“Slammed the door in your face?” Nirobus frowned. “Perhaps he didn’t have the power himself, but had to call his master.”
“Could be.” Matt nodded. “Or the minion might not have been human.”
Nirobus stared, appalled. “You aren’t thinking of some sort of monster, I hope!”
“No, I was shifting metaphors even worse… so far I was grinding the gears, in fact. Think about it in terms of computer programming for a minute. If our hypothetical sorcerer left the magical equivalent of a subroutine, a sort of watchdog spell, to monitor my magical efforts and automatically counter them, that could explain why the power was able to begin to build up a little before the ‘watchdog’ canceled it.”
“I suppose that’s possible,” Nirobus said slowly, “but would your hypothetical sorcerer know about computer programming?”
“Why not?” Matt said airily. “After all, he’s my hypothesis… I can make him think any way I want.”
Nirobus stared at him in surprise, then laughed with delight.
Matt grinned, liking the man more and more. “So the question is… am I facing a man or an enchantment?”
“Which do you prefer?”
“I’d rather have the enchantment,” Matt said slowly. “A resident spell should be easier to overcome than an actual, thinking sorcerer who could switch spells if I overcame his first one.”
“While he was sending for his master, to hit you with really impressive power.” Nirobus nodded. “Either way, though, you would need enough force to roll over the blocking spell or the magical inertia.”
“Yes, I would.” Matt smiled.
Nirobus smiled quizzically. “That doesn’t seem to concern you overly much.”
“Not really.” Matt grinned. “I know just the source for all the power I need.”
“Do you really!” Nirobus stared.
“Yes: the patron saint of Merovence, provided he wants me back there… and I think he does.”
“I see.” A shadow crossed Nirobus’ face, then he forced a smile.
Now it was Matt’s turn to be amused. “Don’t believe in saints? Don’t worry… this is all metaphorical, anyway.”
“And hypothetical.” The idea seemed to cheer Nirobus considerably. “So, then! You seem to have worked out your transportation problem admirably.”
Matt stared, then gazed off into space, adding up all the factors they’d just talked about. “I have, haven’t I?”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Nirobus stood up and clapped him on the shoulder. “And I’m very glad to see you so cheered.”
“Thanks.” Matt gave him a grateful smile, wondering how he was going to get rid of the nice old guy so he could try the spell again.
Nirobus glanced at his watch. “I still have fifteen minutes before my train. If you’ll excuse me, I think I had better take precautions against the ride into the city.”
“Precautions?” Matt frowned, then remembered that there weren’t any bathrooms on the commuter trains. “Oh. Right. You might not have much time changing to the PATH train.”
“Quite so.” Nirobus gave him a warm smile. “You’re quite understanding, for a man so young. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll see you again in ten minutes or so.” He started to turn away, then turned back with a twinkle in his eye. “Or perhaps I won’t.”
Matt grinned. “Metaphorically speaking, of course.”
“Or unless you’re swallowed by an allegory.” Nirobus shook his hand. “Good luck, young man… or should I say, bon voyage?”
“Thanks, either way.” Matt returned the handshake, then watched the older man pace swiftly around the side of the train station, off toward the nearest coffee shop. Too bad the station itself wasn’t open between rush hours; Nirobus was in a rush, indeed.
Then Matt looked around him and was appalled to see how much more mellow the light had become.
How many weeks had passed in Merovence while he’d been talking the problem through with Nirobus?
Not that there had been much choice, but it still dismayed him.
It must be getting into rush hour now. The commuter trains would be coming in, and people would be streaming through that tunnel. Maybe he’d better find another hiding place.
But there wasn’t time. Matt hurried along, hoping he could get back to Merovence before the 4:15 came roaring in to disrupt his concentration. He ducked in under the bridge, stood in the center where he should be between the sets of tracks so there was no Cold Iron right above him, and visualized Saul’s face as he chanted softly,