“How so? The list seems all-inclusive.”
“Have you forgotten the basic mystery? Who sent the pictures which mocked Hurtiancz? Who hung the opal on the drop-chain and thereby offended Ao? Who beat Gilgad’s beast? Who destroyed Zilifant’s tree? Do not these mysteries cry out for a solution?”
“They are cryptic indeed,” admitted Ildefonse. “Of course sheer coincidence might be at work — no? You reject this theory? Well, perhaps so. Still, the questions are not included on your bill of accusations, and so lack immediate relevance.”
“As you like,” said Rhialto. “I suggest that you appoint a committee composed of Hurtiancz, Ao, Gilgad and Zilifant to pursue the matter.”
“All in good time. I will now read the ‘Bill of Accusations’ in full.”
“There is no need to do so,” said Rhialto. “The association is well aware of the charges. I myself am not inflexible; three avenues, at least, are open. First, the group by acclamation may yield the damages I seek; secondly, the Preceptor, using his executive powers, may impose the specified levies; or thirdly, we will present the bill to the Adjudicator, for his judgment by the exact schedules of the Monstrament. Ildefonse, will you kindly ascertain which avenue is most congenial to this group?”
Ildefonse gave a guttural grunt. “What must be, must be. I move that we accept Rhialto’s demands, even though a few minor hardships may be encountered. Is there a second?”
“Hold!” Barbanikos leapt to his feet, his great plume of white hair waving like a flame. “I must point out that the penalties invoked against Rhialto were partly in censure of his odious personality, so that in no way can he demand full restitution, let alone damages!”
“Hear, hear!” cried Haze of Wheary Water and others.
Thus encouraged, Barbanikos continued: “Any sensitive person would have recognized the reprimand for what it was; he would have returned meekly to the group, anxious only to vindicate himself. Instead, what do we have? A surly visage, a hectoring manner, slurs and threats! Is this appropriate conduct for a person who has just been decisively chastised by his peers?”
Barbanikos paused to refresh himself with a sip of tonic, then proceeded.
“Rhialto has learned nothing! He shows the same impudence as before! Therefore I earnestly recommend that Rhialto’s tantrums be ignored. If they proceed, I suggest that he be turned out of doors by the footmen. Rhialto, I say this to you and no more: take care! Be ruled by prudence! You will be the happier man for it! That is my first remark. Now, as for my second —”
Ildefonse interrupted. “Yes, most interesting! Barbanikos, thank you for your incisive opinions.”
Barbanikos reluctantly resumed his seat. Ildefonse asked: “Once again: is there a second to my motion?”
“I second the motion,” said Rhialto. “Let us now see who votes for and who votes against the Blue Principles.”
Hache-Moncour stepped forward. “There is still another point to be considered. In our discussion we have made frequent references to the Monstrament. May I ask as to who can furnish the group a full, undamaged and authentic text? Ildefonse, you naturally include such a document among your references?”
Ildefonse groaned toward the ceiling. “I would not know where to look. Rhialto, however, has brought here, as an exhibit, such a document.”
“Unfortunately, Rhialto’s exhibit, whatever it purports to be, is torn and no longer valuable. We must insist upon absolute authenticity: in this case, the Perciplex itself. Put Rhialto’s damaged scrap out of mind. We will study the Monstrament at Fader’s Waft; then and only then will we be able to vote with conviction.”
Ildefonse said: “Do you put that in the form of a motion?”
“I do.”
Herark the Harbinger called out: “I second the motion!”
The vote was carried almost unanimously, the only silent voices being those of Ildefonse and Rhialto.
Herark rose to his feet. “The hour is late; our time is short! Each of us must resolve to visit Fader’s Waft and study the Perciplex at his earliest convenience. Then, when Ildefonse ascertains that all have done their duty, he shall reconvene the conclave and we will once more consider this affair, in a more conciliatory atmosphere, or so I trust.”
Rhialto uttered a grim laugh and stepped up on the dais beside Ildefonse. “Any who wish may go to Fader’s Waft and test Hache-Moncour’s didactic theories at their leisure. I am going now to consult the Adjudicator. Let no one think to test his magic against me! I did not leave all my spells at Falu, and I am protected in dimension.”
Byzant the Necrope took exception to the remark. “Rhialto, you are contentious! Must the Adjudicator be troubled by every trifling snit and swivet? Be large, Rhialto!”
“Good advice!” declared Rhialto. “I shall solicit mercy for you at Fader’s Waft. Ildefonse, the ‘Bill of Accusations’, if you please! The Adjudicator will also need this list of names.”
Hache-Moncour spoke politely: “Since Rhialto is determined, I must warn him of the dangers he will incur at Fader’s Waft. They are large indeed!”
“How so?” asked Ildefonse. “Where and how does Rhialto face danger?”
“Is it not clear? The Monstrament states that any person who presents an altered or damaged copy of the Blue Principles in the effort to prove a case at law is guilty of a Schedule H crime and must be expunged. Rhialto, I reluctantly must declare, has today committed such a crime which vitiates his entire case. He will go before the Adjudicator at peril to his life.”
Rhialto frowned down at his copy of the Monstrament. “I see no such interdict here. Please indicate the passage which you are citing.”
Hache-Moncour took a quick step backward. “If I did so, I would then become guilty of the identical crime we are now discussing. The passage perhaps has been elided by the damage.”
“Most peculiar,” said Rhialto.
Herark spoke out. “Rhialto, your accusations have been voided by this new crime, and your claims must now be abandoned. Ildefonse, I move that the meeting be adjourned.”
“Not so fast,” said Ildefonse. “We are suddenly faced with a most complex matter. I suggest that, in view of Hache-Moncour’s exposition, we send a committee to Fader’s Waft, consisting, let us say, of myself, Eshmiel, Barbanikos, and perhaps Hache-Moncour, there to study the Monstrament quietly and carefully, without reference to our little troubles.”
“I will meet you there,” said Rhialto. “Even if Hache-Moncour’s recollection is correct, which I doubt, I have not quoted from the damaged Monstrament and so am innocent.”
“Not so!” declared Hache-Moncour. “You just now examined your spurious document and used it to dispute my statement. Your crime takes precedence and you will be expunged before uttering the first of your charges, which thereupon become moot. Return at this instant to Falu! We will ascribe your conduct to mental disorder.”
Ildefonse spoke wearily: “This advice, no matter how well-meant, clearly lacks persuasion. Therefore, as Preceptor, I rule that all present shall go now to Fader’s Waft, there to inspect the Monstrament. Our purposes are informational only; we will not disturb the Adjudicator. Come, then! All to Fader’s Waft! We will ride in my commodious whirlaway.”
5
Ildefonse’s majestic whirlaway flew southward, into a region of low rolling hills at the southern edge of Ascolais. Certain of the magicians strolled the upper promenade, intent upon the far vistas of air and cloud; others kept to the lower deck that they might overlook the lands below; still others preferred the leather-cushioned comfort of the saloon.
The time was close upon evening; the near-horizontal light spread odd patterns of red and black shadow across the landscape; Fader’s Waft, a hillock somewhat higher and more massive than its fellows, loomed ahead.
The whirlaway settled upon the summit, which, exposed to the draughts of Fader the west wind, was bare and stony. Alighting from the vehicle, the magicians marched across a circular terrace to a six-sided structure roofed with tiles of blue gold.
Rhialto had visited Fader’s Waft on a single other occasion, for reasons of simple curiosity. The west wind Fader flapped his cloak as he approached the fane; entering the vestibule he waited for his eyes to adapt to the gloom, then stepped forward into the central chamber.
A pedestal supported the Egg: a spheroid three feet across the widest diameter. A window at one end displayed the Perciplex, a blue prism four inches tall, inwardly engraved with the text of the Monstrament. Through the window the Perciplex projected an image of the Monstrament in legible characters upon a vertical dolomite slab, and so charged with magic was the Perciplex that should an earthquake or other shock cause it to topple, it must right itself immediately, so that it should never present a faulty image, or one which might be misconstrued, to the viewer.
So it had been; so it was now.
Ildefonse led the way across the terrace, with Hache-Moncour, erect and controlled in his movements on one side, and on the other Hurtiancz in full gesticulation. Behind came the others in a hurrying clot, with Rhialto sauntering disdainfully alone at the rear.
Into the vestibule marched the group, and into the central chamber. Rhialto at the rear heard Hache-Moncour’s voice raised in sudden shock and dismay, followed by a mingling of other astonished voices.
Pressing forward, Rhialto saw all as he remembered from his previous visit: pedestal supporting Judicial Egg, Perciplex glowing blue, and the projection of the Monstrament upon the dolomite slab. Today, however, there was a noteworthy difference: the text of the Monstrament appeared in reverse, or mirror-image, upon the dolomite slab.
Rhialto felt a sudden flicker across his consciousness, and almost instantly he heard Ildefonse’s roar of protest. “Impropriety, bad faith! The monitor shows a hiatus3! Who would so dare to work a spell on us?”
