"Straighten up, boy!" Thribble screamed. "Try to look like a Guild Neophyte, even if you are a poor excuse for one. March, I said!"
He forgot his earlier angst, his enthusiasm growing as Grimm's steps became ever more sure and co-ordinated. The demon had no idea of how long he spent cajoling, commanding and castigating his friend, but the human became ever more alert with each step, as he flushed the drugs from his system.
Just a little longer, Thribble thought, and he must wake up!
It happened in the space of a heartbeat. Grimm stopped marching and shook his head, nearly dislodging the demon. Thribble hung on, breathless, as the Questor swivelled his head to and fro for a few moments.
"What is going on?" the mage muttered. "What in the world am I doing here?"
****
General Quelgrum strode down the corridor to a fusillade of clicked heels and crisp salutes. He responded in the proper manner, but he had begun to tire of the minutiae of office: supply provision; manpower allocation; and duty rosters. He decided to pay Professor Armitage a call, to see how the scientist's Pacification of the two Questors had progressed.
A pair of such lethal mages under Quelgrum's complete control might form a devastating vanguard for his assault on High Lodge. He knew Perfuco wouldn't like it, but, then again, the Mentalist had little choice but to obey his commands.
As he rounded the next turn, he saw the mage questioning a Quartermaster-Sergeant and a Captain, both of whom the General knew as loyal soldiers. He waited until the Colonel had finished, since it would not do to question a senior officer's motives within the hearing of juniors, and Perfuco, at last, dismissed the men with a peremptory command.
"What's up, Colonel?" the General asked, after the two soldiers had doubled away.
"You know, Sir," the mage replied, clutching his staff close to his body. "Walls have ears." He tapped the side of his nose with his index finger and winked.
Quelgrum frowned.
What is Perfuco talking about?
Before the General could react, the Colonel snapped off a smart salute, clicked his heels and strode down the corridor at considerable speed for a man of his age. In the years he had spent behind his desk, Quelgrum's middle section had softened and spread a little. His reactions were not as swift as they had been in his youth, so he made no attempt to catch up with the mage.
Nonetheless, he felt puzzled. Perfuco's gesture implied that he was engaged on some secret exercise to which the two officers were privy, but the General could not recall discussing any such arrangement with his security chief.
Of course, Perfuco had standing orders to keep an eye out for any sign of disloyalty or incipient mutiny, but he seemed to be interpreting those orders in a particularly zealous manner this morning.
Oh, well, he thought, I can hardly complain if the guy's decided to have a blitz on security-after all, that's what I took him on for!
Dismissing his puzzlement from his mind, the officer strode on towards Armitage's lab.
****
Grimm struggled with his befuddled brain, but he felt his condition improving with every moment.
Thribble had explained the situation to him, and he knew he needed his companions awake and alert as soon as possible.
What could he do? He knew a Questor could cast any spell he could visualise, but how could he envisage the magic needed to wake up a group of comatose people? This was not a normal situation.
"Do something, Questor Grimm!" the demon squeaked. "Armed interlopers may storm the room at any moment!"
"Don't push me, Thribble," the Questor said, eschewing Mage Speech in favour of a less restrictive vocabulary. "I'm trying to think of what sensation I need to impart in them."
"Those drugs you took; Trina and Virion," the demon said. "Did you not say that Virion is a powerful stimulant? You know the effects of that herb only too well."
Grimm opened his mouth to remonstrate, but he shut it again before speaking.
Thribble's right! he realised. That's just the effect I'm looking for!
The Questor had laboured under the slavery of addiction to that herb and its companion, and it was as familiar to him as breathing. This would be a simple enough spell, and one that should not draw too much of his precious reserve of energy: he might need that to aid in the group's escape, if escape were at all possible from this fortress.
"Redeemer-come to me!" he called, and his Mage Staff appeared in his outstretched right hand. He had no idea where it had been kept, but no wall or barrier could keep a Guild thaumaturge from his staff. He closed his eyes, not in intoxication, but in meditation, as he recalled the sensations the Virion fumes had invoked within him.
Ah, now I have it!
With ease born of long practice, he gathered his inner power and let the meaningless words of his personal spell-language build within him, shaping the energy into the form in which it was required.
The nonsense words, of no use to any other mage alive, burst from him like an eructation after a heavy meaclass="underline" "Akk'ka sh'yet rya shya'tan'ye!"
Grimm only hoped the spell did not prove as addictive as the herbal fumes which had provided the inspiration for the spell.
A few moments passed, during which the Questor feared the incantation had failed, but his worries faded as four pairs of eyes sprung wide open in an instant. Relief flooded through him at the evidence of his success.
He was a Guild Questor; no one and nothing could stand against him-Heaven help the General and his minions now!
****
General Quelgrum entered Armitage's lab without knocking, expecting to see the two mages lashed to gurneys, undergoing mental conditioning. Instead of this, he felt a shock of unwelcome surprise to see the Professor lecturing his acolytes, who were arranged in a semicircle before him. No magic-users or other test subjects were in evidence.
At the sudden, unannounced appearance of the commanding officer, the Professor's five assistants lurched to their feet and saluted. The General ignored them and addressed Armitage directly.
"What the hell's going on here, Professor? Where are the wizards?"
Armitage smiled, his eyes soft and distant, his gaze seeming to pass straight through Quelgrum. "It's all going very well, General," he said.
The General was confused. "Do you mean they're already Pacified, Armitage?" he demanded. "If so, why haven't you sent them to me? If not, why aren't you still working on them?"
The Professor's expression implied complete incomprehension; the man appeared as an imbecile.
"It's all going very well, General; don't worry."
His expression was beatific, and he appeared quite unconcerned at his commander's agitation.
Quelgrum stared at the man. Had he gone insane? Had he been drinking?
"Didn't I make myself clear, Professor?" he snarled. "Why have you not got the two Questors in here, at this very moment? Where are they?"
The scientist tapped his nose, in a similar gesture to that which Perfuco had employed earlier, in the corridor.
"I can't say too much, Sir. But it's all going really well. No need to worry, I assure you."
Despite the Professor's dreamy assurances, Quelgrum was worried. Something was afoot here, and he feared that magic must be at its core.
"Professor," he said, controlling his burgeoning emotions, "where are the bloody magic-users?"
"Oh, they're all right, Sir," Armitage replied, cheery and bright-eyed. "Everything's going really well."
Quelgrum surveyed six pairs of blank, unseeing eyes, and he swore. He spun on his heel and gave the guard outside the door the order to summon Perfuco. He would get to the bottom of this bizarre situation, and in double-quick time!
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