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the corner.
The books have been fighting again. . .
Oh, no! It ll take ages to capture all the spells again, you know they go and
find places to hide. . .
Who s that on the floor?
There was a pause.
He s knocked out. A shelf caught him, by the looks of it.
Who is he?
That new lad. You know; the one they say has got a whole head full of
brains?
If that shelf had been a bit closer we d be able to see if they were right.
You two, get him along to the infirmary. The rest of you better get these
books rounded up. Where s the damn librarian? He ought to know better than to
let a Critical Mass build up.
Esk glanced sideways at the orang-outan, who waggled his eyebrows at her.
He pulled a dusty volume of gardening spells out of the shelves beside him, ex-
tracted a soft brown banana from the recess behind it, and ate it with the quiet
relish of one who knows that whatever the problems are, they belong firmly to
human beings.
She looked the other way, at the staff in her hand, and her lips went thin. She
knew her grip hadn t slipped. The staff had lunged at Simon, with murder in its
heartwood.
The boy lay on a hard bed in a narrow room, a cold towel folded across his
forehead. Treatle and Cutangle watched him carefully.
How long has it been? said Cutangle.
Trestle shrugged. Three days.
And he hasn t come around once?
No.
Cutangle sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, and pinched the bridge of
his nose wearily. Simon had never looked particularly healthy, but now his face
had a horrible sunken look.
A. brilliant mind, that one, he said. His explanation of the fundamental
principles of magic and matter quite astounding.
Trestle nodded.
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The way he just absorbs knowledge, said Cutangle: I ve been a working
wizard all my life, and somehow I never really understood magic until he ex-
plained it. So clear. So, well, obvious.
Everyone says that, said Trestle gloomily. They say it s like having a hood-
wink pulled off and seeing the daylight for the first time.
That s exactly it, said Cutangle, He s sourcerer material, sure enough. You
were right to bring him here.
There was a thoughtful pause.
Only said Trestle.
Only what? asked Cutangle.
Only what was it you understood? said Trestle. That s what s bothering
me. I mean, can you explain it?
How do you mean, explain? Cutangle looked worried.
What he keeps talking about, said Trestle, a hint of desperation in his voice.
Oh, it s the genuine stuff, I know. But what exactly is it?
Cutangle looked at him, his mouth open. Eventually he said, Oh, that s easy.
Magic fills the universe, you see, and every time the universe changes, no, I mean
every time magic is invoked, the universe changes, only in every direction at once,
d you see, and he moved his hands uncertainly, trying to recognise a spark of
comprehension in Trestle s face. To put it another way, any piece of matter, like
an orange or the world or, or
- a crocodile? suggested Trestle.
Yes, a crocodile, or whatever, is basically shaped like a carrot.
I don t remember that bit, said Trestle.
I m sure that s what he said, said Cutangle. He was starting to sweat.
No, I remember the bit where he seemed to suggest that if you went far
enough in any direction you would see the back of your head, Trestle insisted.
You re sure he didn t mean someone else s head?
Trestle thought for a bit.
No, I m pretty sure he said the back of your own head, he said. I think he
said he could prove it.
They considered this in silence.
Finally Cutangle spoke, very slowly and carefully.
I look at it all like this, he said. Before I heard him talk, I was like everyone
else. You know what I mean? I was confused and uncertain about all the little
details of life. But now, he brightened up, while I m still confused and uncertain
it s on a much higher plane, d you see, and at least I know I m bewildered about
the really fundamental and important facts of the universe.
Trestle nodded. I hadn t looked at it like that, he said, but you re absolutely
right. He s really pushed back the boundaries of ignorance. There s so much
about the universe we don t know.
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They both savoured the strange warm glow of being much more ignorant than
ordinary people, who were ignorant of only ordinary things.
Then Trestle said: I just hope he s all right. He s over the fever but he just
doesn t seem to want to wake up.
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