the crowd, but he
skirted garden beds and vaulted benches until he and
George reached the gap between the buildings that
appeared to be the source of the noise.
A growl came from ahead, then a throaty cough that
turned into a moan. 'Someone's hurt,' George said and
he started forward.
Aubrey grabbed his arm. 'No.Wait.'
The telltale tingle of magic had made Aubrey pause.
He was trying to locate its source when a lurching,
drooling creature blundered through the archway, eyes
vacant, hands clutching at the air.
George stifled an oath. Aubrey danced back a step or
two, his skin suddenly cold at the thought of its touch. Another one , he thought with dismay.
The dispossessed one had once been a young woman.
She was dressed in her best clothes, as if she'd been about
to go to church – dark-blue jacket and dress, white
gloves. She wore a large hat, but it had come astray and
was dragging on her shoulders. Her hair hung loose and
bedraggled.
She lunged at them. Desperately, Aubrey dragged
George around the corner away from the shambling
menace. They stood with their backs to the office of the
university's maintenance department. 'What's that smell?'
'Smell? Aubrey, have you taken leave of your senses?'
'No. This is important.'
George frowned and sniffed the air. 'Smoke.'
'Wood smoke?'
'No. Like fireworks.'
'I thought so.' He caught George's expression. 'I'll tell
you later.'
Another tortured moan. 'What can we do for her?'
George asked.
'Stop her from hurting anyone. Restrain her, keep
her safe until the authorities come.' Aubrey peeped
around the corner as another scream arose. 'But we have
to act now.'
'Isn't anyone doing anything?'
'No. It's up to us.'
He darted out. On the other side of the archway, the
space between the two buildings opened into a covered
gallery supported by slender, cast-iron pillars. It was
empty, apart from the soulless horror and a terrified
charwoman who had dropped her bucket and mop. She
cowered against the wall and covered her eyes.
Aubrey moved into the vacant-eyed woman's field of
vision, flapping his arms. 'Here! Here!' In an instant
George was by his side, jumping around and waving.
The horror staggered back from the charwoman, then
lumbered around, seeking the source of this noisy interruption.
'Good,' Aubrey said. He refused to be taken
prisoner by panic, no matter how much he felt like it.
'Now, George, you keep her distracted while I work
on a spell.'
George glanced at Aubrey. 'Be quick about it, old man,
if you would.'
'I'll do my best.'
George moved to one side, still waving his arms and
shouting, doing his best to keep the woman's attention.
She moaned and drooled, then lurched at him, but
he skipped back and slid to one side. He shoved her
shoulder, putting her off balance, and quickly moved
away.
In the meantime, Aubrey was rehearsing a spell. It was
a simple binding spell, something he'd used a thousand
times. It applied the Law of Cohesion and the Law of
Elastic Deformation. It could be strengthened in intensity
or lengthened in duration by careful variation of
parameters.
This application was simple. All he wanted to do was to
manacle the woman's feet, hobbling them, and bind her
arms to her side. He knew it would tax his energy, given
his declining state, but there was little else he could do.
He focused on the empty one as she grappled with
George, and began.
The first few syllables came easily, but Aubrey was
shocked when the subsequent syllables were awkward on
his tongue. What should have been a straightforward spell
became a struggle. He started to sweat as the individual
spell elements seemed to resist his pronouncing them.
His muscles began to tremble and his head throbbed
abominably.
The final syllables fell from his lips and Aubrey immediately
knew that he'd botched the spell. A handful of
dull shreds – flimsy fragments, quite unlike the robust
bonds he'd been attempting to summon – appeared and
fell to the flagstones. They shrivelled and
skirted garden beds and vaulted benches until he and
George reached the gap between the buildings that
appeared to be the source of the noise.
A growl came from ahead, then a throaty cough that
turned into a moan. 'Someone's hurt,' George said and
he started forward.
Aubrey grabbed his arm. 'No.Wait.'
The telltale tingle of magic had made Aubrey pause.
He was trying to locate its source when a lurching,
drooling creature blundered through the archway, eyes
vacant, hands clutching at the air.
George stifled an oath. Aubrey danced back a step or
two, his skin suddenly cold at the thought of its touch. Another one , he thought with dismay.
The dispossessed one had once been a young woman.
She was dressed in her best clothes, as if she'd been about
to go to church – dark-blue jacket and dress, white
gloves. She wore a large hat, but it had come astray and
was dragging on her shoulders. Her hair hung loose and
bedraggled.
She lunged at them. Desperately, Aubrey dragged
George around the corner away from the shambling
menace. They stood with their backs to the office of the
university's maintenance department. 'What's that smell?'
'Smell? Aubrey, have you taken leave of your senses?'
'No. This is important.'
George frowned and sniffed the air. 'Smoke.'
'Wood smoke?'
'No. Like fireworks.'
'I thought so.' He caught George's expression. 'I'll tell
you later.'
Another tortured moan. 'What can we do for her?'
George asked.
'Stop her from hurting anyone. Restrain her, keep
her safe until the authorities come.' Aubrey peeped
around the corner as another scream arose. 'But we have
to act now.'
'Isn't anyone doing anything?'
'No. It's up to us.'
He darted out. On the other side of the archway, the
space between the two buildings opened into a covered
gallery supported by slender, cast-iron pillars. It was
empty, apart from the soulless horror and a terrified
charwoman who had dropped her bucket and mop. She
cowered against the wall and covered her eyes.
Aubrey moved into the vacant-eyed woman's field of
vision, flapping his arms. 'Here! Here!' In an instant
George was by his side, jumping around and waving.
The horror staggered back from the charwoman, then
lumbered around, seeking the source of this noisy interruption.
'Good,' Aubrey said. He refused to be taken
prisoner by panic, no matter how much he felt like it.
'Now, George, you keep her distracted while I work
on a spell.'
George glanced at Aubrey. 'Be quick about it, old man,
if you would.'
'I'll do my best.'
George moved to one side, still waving his arms and
shouting, doing his best to keep the woman's attention.
She moaned and drooled, then lurched at him, but
he skipped back and slid to one side. He shoved her
shoulder, putting her off balance, and quickly moved
away.
In the meantime, Aubrey was rehearsing a spell. It was
a simple binding spell, something he'd used a thousand
times. It applied the Law of Cohesion and the Law of
Elastic Deformation. It could be strengthened in intensity
or lengthened in duration by careful variation of
parameters.
This application was simple. All he wanted to do was to
manacle the woman's feet, hobbling them, and bind her
arms to her side. He knew it would tax his energy, given
his declining state, but there was little else he could do.
He focused on the empty one as she grappled with
George, and began.
The first few syllables came easily, but Aubrey was
shocked when the subsequent syllables were awkward on
his tongue. What should have been a straightforward spell
became a struggle. He started to sweat as the individual
spell elements seemed to resist his pronouncing them.
His muscles began to tremble and his head throbbed
abominably.
The final syllables fell from his lips and Aubrey immediately
knew that he'd botched the spell. A handful of
dull shreds – flimsy fragments, quite unlike the robust
bonds he'd been attempting to summon – appeared and
fell to the flagstones. They shrivelled and
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