"I know not for certain," said Bardi. "Methinks it doth depend upon two factors: the servility of the delta toward the mage and the strength of mind of the victim. These factors vary. I have heard that, when the sorcerer gives the delta a command that violates the most fervent conviction of the possessed one, the subject's body is frozen to immobility. Pray slow down, Thorolf," he puffed. "Mine aged limbs are not up to your soldiery stride!"
At the Green Dragon, Thorolf found the chamber feebly lit by a single candle and Yvette asleep in the bed. Upon the arrival of Thorolf and Bardi, she awoke and sat up, the blanket and sheet falling away from her slender torso.
"Sergeant," she asked in her leaden monotone, "who is this man?"
"You've met Doctor Bardi, Yvette," said Thorolf. "Remember that we sought out Doctor Bardi when you wished to change your appearance to foil pursuers?"
She shook her head. "It is all confused. But what brings him hither? Would he bed me, also? I am not empowered to grant—"
"Thankee for the compliment," murmured Bardi. "But—"
"Nay, nay!" Thorolf interposed hastily. "He would merely verify your health."
"My health is excellent," she said. "If he fear injury from your great—"
"Nought like that, my dear," Thorolf interrupted. "Do but sit you quiet for a moment!"
Bardi changed his eyeglasses, lit another candle, and held it close to Yvette while studying her eyes and looking down her throat. Then he set down the candle.
"Wilt see me safely home, Thorolf?" he asked. "I am too old and frail to wander the nighted streets alone, with ruffians aprowl. But pray, run not mine old legs off!"
"Certes," said Thorolf. "I shall soon return, Yvette. Go back to sleep, my dear."
As he and the ancient mage traversed the darkened streets, Thorolf said: "Well, Doctor, what thinkst?"
"Meseems a plain case of delta possession."
"Can this spirit be exorcised?"
"Not by me, and mayhap not even by Orlandus, who placed it there. Betimes the deltas come to enjoy residing in a mortal frame and refuse to vacate, like mundane tenants who fall behind with their rent. Perchance Magus Myrdhin in Kymri or Archmage Valentius in Aemilia could force the interloper out."
"Is it not illegal so to possess another?"
"Aye, aye; it's one of the worst forms of magical malpractice. But ye know as well as I that dark deeds are done even in our law-abiding land. It were hard to assemble evidence that would stand the test in court, even could we discover jurymen not so terrified of sorcerers as to refuse to convict.
"Moreover, our public prosecutors dislike cases involving magic. To forestall employment of spells to subvert justice, the prosecutor must either hire a rival wizard, at public expense, to guard the court by counterspells; or bind and gag the magician, leaving but one of's hands unbound to write his answers."
"Would Orlandus banish the delta when we have paid all of his bill?" asked Thorolf hopefully.
"Count not upon it. His diaphanes are the primary tools wherewith he hopes to further his ambitions; so why should he yield up one?"
"We ought to have been more careful in making an agreement with him."
"No doubt; but we were under emergent pressure and could not afford lengthy negotiations. Besides, paper promises are still paper promises, which the promiser may break unless the promisee have some exigent hold upon him."
"Such, say, as a hostage?"
"Aye." Bardi fingered his straggly beard. "As things do stand, the only sure release of these deltas back to their native plane is the death of him who installed them. Then, soon or late, they quit the bodies thus possessed and retreat to their proper sphere. I ween they wax homesick."
Thorolf frowned. "To slay the Psychomage were a large order, to say nought of the law I've sworn to uphold."
"Oh, my dear Sergeant, think not of such a foray! Orlandus will anticipate your assault and, though he be not a wizard to the highest class, will ready a lethal defense."
"Then how to rescue the lady? Could I not seek magical aid of mine own?"
Bardi spread his hands helplessly. "I were as useless against him as a fly whisk against a dragon."
"Who, then?"
"Dear me! I know not who might better serve your turn. Sordamor would charge an emperor's ransom; Gant hath been effective but is now enslaved by his drug; Avain is a treacherous rascal."
"That smiling little man?"
"Yea verily. As the playwright Helmanax wrote, a man can smile and smile and still be a scoundrel."
Thorolf pondered, his worried thoughts flitting back to the Green Dragon. As they reached the wizard's house, he asked: "Doctor, may I catch a night's sleep here, instead of returning to the inn?"
"Assuredly. But wherefore, with the Queen of the Fays awaiting you in bed?"
"That's just the trouble. Were I alone with her again, I might be more than tempted to sign that cursed document. I'm in love with the woman she was, so I trust not my resistance. I refused her once, but 'twas a damned near thing."
"With your muscle, she could hardly deny you if you employed force."
"Not my wonted way; and if I did, what then? She said she'd stab any wight who so used her in's sleep. I doubt not that her delta be under orders to do the like."
"Well, use yonder couch if ye like." Bardi fingered his whiskers. "There's something I did mean to tell you, but I've forgotten what. A moment ..." The wrinkled face cleared. "Ah, yea! I found the book wherein I stowed my notes on the learned Doctor Fausto's volume, Of the Unrigging of Illusions. I bethought me yestereve, and by good hap I've bought a phial of Fausto's formula from the apothecary. Bide ye in yon chair for the nonce."
As he rummaged, the magician continued: "Know, Thorolf, that spells fall into two classes: illusory and substantive. Illusory spells do but alter the appearance of things, exempli gratia the cheaper spell I offered to put upon the Countess, to make her seem a short, dark, dumpy woman. Such spells are relatively simple.
"Substantive spells, on t'other hand, cause actual rearrangement of the atoms whereof the thing or person be constructed ..."
He droned on about the rival theories of the modus operandi of spells. Then, "Ah, here it is!" He pulled out an ancient codex with a cracked and grimy cover of gilded red leather. Presently Bardi presented Thorolf with a pill and a cupful of water. "Wash it down!" he commanded.
While Thorolf obeyed, Bardi grasped a piece of charcoal and, stooping, marked a small pentacle on the floor. He made a few passes and chanted verses in an unknown tongue. "How feel ye, Sergeant?"
"I tingle all over," said Thorolf. "A slight headache, as if my skull were pressing on my brain."
"That is normal; it will pass."
"I hope this turn me not into some lower form of life!"
"Never fear! I have taken precautions against such an error."
"Is there any way to test the spell?"
"Aye; I'll summon an illusion, and ye shall see how it works."
Bardi lit four black candles and set them in candlesticks on the floor, where they burned with a sinister greenish light. He went through a magical procedure, with words and gestures, causing smokes of magenta, turquoise, and lemon green to rise from the candles. When at last he clapped his hands, the smokes coalesced into a big, black-maned lion, which twitched its tail and gave a hollow roar. Thorolf started back and reached for his sword.
"Do but look closely," said Bardi.
The young man became aware that this lion was transparent; he could see a couple of candleflames through it. He said:
"I understand now, Doctor. How long might this spell last?"