“Not altogether,” said Cugel. “Still, by and large, you have recreated a remarkably fine specimen, and I congratulate you.” He walked around the structure as if in admiration, all the while hoping to come within arm’s-length of Iucounu, but as Cugel moved, so did the Laughing Magician, and Cugel was thwarted in his intent.
“Sadlark is more than a mere specimen,” said Iucounu in a voice almost devout. “Now notice the scales, each fixed in its proper place, except at the thrust of the keel where a staring vacancy assaults the eye. A single scale is missing, the most important of all: the protonastic centrum, or, as it is called, the ‘Pectoral Skybreak Spatterlight’. For long years I thought it lost, to my unutterable anguish. Cugel, can you imagine my surge of gladsomeness, the singing of songs in my heart, the crepitations of pure joy along the appropriate passages, when I looked at you, and discovered there in your cap the missing scale? I rejoiced as if the sun had been conceded another hundred years of life! I could have leapt in the air from sheer exhilaration. Cugel, can you understand my emotion?”
“To the extent that you have described it — yes. As to the source of this emotion, I am puzzled.” And Cugel approached the armature, hoping that Iucounu in his enthusiasm would step within reach of his arm.
Iucounu, moving in the other direction, touched the armature to set the scales jingling. “Cugel, in some respects you are dense and dull; your brain is like luke-warm porridge, and I say this without heat. You understand only what you see, and this is the smallest part.” Iucounu emitted a whinny of laughter, so that Cugel sent him a questioning look. “Observe Sadlark!” said Iucounu. “What do you see?”
“An armature of wires and a number of scales, in the purported shape of Sadlark.”
“And what if the wires were removed?”
“The scales would fall into a heap.”
“Quite so. You are right. The protonastic centrum is the node which binds the other scales with lines of force. This node is the soul and force of Sadlark. With the node in place, Sadlark lives once again; indeed Sadlark was never dead, but merely disassociated.”
“What of, let us say, his inner organs?”
“In the overworld, such parts are considered unnecessary and even somewhat vulgar. In short, there are no inner parts. Have you any other questions or observations?”
“I might politely venture to point out that the day is waning and that I wish to arrive at Taun Tassel before dark.”
Iucounu said heartily: “And so you shall! First, be good enough to place upon the work-table the ‘Pectoral Skybreak Spatterlight’, with all traces of diambroid detached. No other option is open to you.”
“Only one,” said Cugel. “I prefer to keep the scale. It brings me luck and wards off acrid magic, as you have already learned.”
Yellow lights flickered behind Iucounu’s eyes. “Cugel, your obstinacy is embarrassing. The scale indeed holds a proud crust between you and enemy magic of the casual sort. It is indifferent to overworld magic, some of which I command. Meanwhile, please desist from this constant skulking forward in the attempt to bring me within range of your sword. I am tired of jumping backward every time you sidle in my direction.”
Cugel spoke haughtily: “Such an ungracious act never so much as crossed my mind.” He drew his sword and laid it on the work-bench. “There! See for yourself how you have misjudged me!”
Iucounu blinked at the sword. “Still, keep your distance! I am not a man who welcomes intimacies.”
“You may expect my full cooperation,” said Cugel with dignity.
“I will be frank! Your deeds have long cried out for retribution, and as a man of conscience I am forced to act. Still, you need not aggravate my task.”
“This is harsh language!” said Cugel. “You offered me a ride to Taun Tassel. I did not expect treachery.”
Iucounu paid no heed. “I will now make my final request: give me the scale at once!”
“I can not oblige you,” said Cugel. “Since that was your final request, we can now leave for Taun Tassel.”
“The scale, if you please!”
“Take it from my cap, if you must. I will not assist you.”
“And the diambroid?”
“Sadlark will protect me. You must take your chances.”
Iucounu uttered a cry of laughter. “Sadlark also protects me, as you will see!” He threw aside his garments and with a quick movement inserted himself into the center of the matrix, so that his legs fitted into Sadlark’s motilators and his face showed behind the gap in the turret. The wires and scales contracted around his pudgy body; the scales fit him as if they were his own skin.
Iucounu’s voice rang like a choir of brass horns: “Well then, Cugel: what do you think now?”
Cugel stood gaping in wonder. At last he said: “Sadlark’s scales fit you remarkably well.”
“It is no accident, of this I am certain!”
“And why not?”
“I am Sadlark’s avatar; I partake of his personal essence! This is my destiny, but before I can enjoy my full force, I must be whole! Without further quibbling you may fit ‘Spatterlight’ into place. Remember, Sadlark will no longer protect you against my magic, since it is his magic, as well.”
A crawling sensation in Cugel’s glove indicated that Sadlark’s protonastic centrum ‘Spatterlight’ endorsed the remark. “So it must be,” said Cugel. He carefully detached the ornament from his cap and removed the diambroid. He held it in his hand a moment, then placed it against his forehead.
Iucounu cried out: “What are you doing?”
“For the last time I am renewing my vitality. Often this scale has helped me through my trials.”
“Stop at once! I will be needing every iota of force for my own purposes. Hand it over!”
Cugel let the true scale slip into his gloved palm and concealed the false ornament. He spoke in a melancholy voice: “With pain I give up my treasure. May I for a final few moments hold it to my brow?”
“By no means!” declared Iucounu. “I plan to put it to my own brow. Lay the scale on the work-bench, then stand back!”
“As you wish,” sighed Cugel. He placed ‘Spatterlight’ on the work-bench, then, taking his sword, walked mournfully from the room.
With a grunt of satisfaction, Iucounu applied the scale to his brow.
Cugel went to stand by the fountain in the foyer, with one foot raised to the lip of the basin. In this position he listened gravely to the awful noises rising from Iucounu’s throat.
