After Bartram concluded his story, there was a prolonged silence as the three men retreated to introspection. For each of them, the series of events that brought them together had very different implications. Bartram was immovable about maintaining the secrecy of his origins so he could live out a quiet life in obscurity. Anson was still committed to return to Antrim to seek a way to save his land and its people from certain ruin. Nevin was intellectually shaken, but also stimulated about the opportunity to learn new and remarkable things. A few hours earlier, he was uncertain about his own future and that had dismayed him; now he was even more uncertain what would happen next, but he had a growing excitement at the possibilities.
It was not surprising that Bartram eventually spoke first, since he best understood the situation. “Anson, if you chose to remain here I could help you find sanctuary. But I can see that you are determined to return to Antrim. I am equally certain that you cannot succeed in your mission without something to tip the balance of odds that weigh against you. King Meire will certainly not trust you, and even King Lucan will be skeptical without something extraordinary to sway his thoughts.”
“Yes, you are right,” Anson replied. “But I have thought of the advantage which can turn the balance to my favor. Sir Nevin must accompany me.”
Nevin did a double take upon hearing this pronouncement.
Anson was certain that alone, he would not succeed. He needed Nevin, whom he guessed could easily equal or surpass Stryker’s influence, and whose physical size would be as formidable as his knowledge. Furthermore, he had observed what Nevin accomplished with only a hint of mindpower, thinking that Nevin’s potential for magery was probably far greater than his own.
Anson slid off the couch and knelt on one knee in front of Nevin. With a look of desperation, he pleaded, “Sir Nevin, my land is beset with chaos and wanton death. My village has always resounded with the shouts and laughter of children, but there are few children now. This is the surest sign that a land is dying. Even I, as reverent for life as any man, was forced to harm another. Sir Nevin, I feel I can help bring this degradation to an end, though I cannot do it alone. I need the help of one with high powers. Will you make the deliverance with me and aid me in this cause?” Anson wept as he lowered his head in supplication.
Nevin became extremely uncomfortable. This gesture by Anson was both noble and deeply moving, but Nevin was struggling with his own private battle between an extraordinary adventure offered by these remarkable men and his skepticism that such things could be true. His mind raced and heart pounded with anticipation. Finally, he responded with unaccustomed but growing enthusiasm.
“Yes. Yes.I mean, of course I’ll go. I don’t really know what I’m getting into, but what have I got to lose?”
Anson moved to a sitting position on the floor with his back leaning against the couch. Looking up toward the ceiling, he took a deep breath and sighed, “Good. That is good.” Anson turned next to Bartram and asked what the next step should be.
Bartram responded, “You and I should write down the words to the spell and be sure both you and Mr. Reasoner know it thoroughly. Mr. Reasoner’s deliverance should be carried by the power of your invocation, along with my own influence plus whatever he can contribute. With Stryker, it took several repetitions and I was almost carried along with him because so much mindpower was needed from me. It should go easier with the three of us.
Bartram added, “If it is acceptable to Mr. Reasoner, we should all stay here for the night. The spell must be cast in the storeroom where Anson and I arrived and Stryker departed. For reasons that I do not understand, that place is linked with Huxley and I expect you will return to its meditation hut. So, we do not need to cast a reversal, but a strait iteration. Well, we should eat well this evening and get a complete night’s rest, then make for the Science Building just before dawn.
“Mr. Reasoner, if you will give us a pad of paper and something to write with, Anson and I will test our recall to formulate the words for the spell. After we finish, you will have to study the words and commit them as close to memory as you can. Is this plan acceptable?”
All three men nodded in agreement and began their preparations. Anson and Bartram sat at the kitchen table while Nevin prepared dinner for the three of them. The two mages worked diligently for several hours until they handed Nevin a sheet of notebook paper with dozens of words and phrases that constituted the spell. The two mages then retired to the beds Nevin had prepared for them, while Nevin sat in his armchair and studied the spell.
While the mages slept, Nevin read and reread the handwritten sheet. He became deeply engrossed in the words, gradually discovering a sense of wholeness of the spell, and, at the same time, several distinct elemental parts. It was a fascinating verbal theorem. The more he studied the spell, the more it seemed like a formulation structurally resembling a chemical equation.
Nevin often sat in that chair reading late into the night, eventually falling asleep before rising early for his class. This time he fell asleep and dreamed of wizards and kings and castles. When he awoke to the gentle touch of Bartram’s hand on his shoulder, he had a bit more difficulty than usual sorting out what was a dream and what was real.