This was an older man garbed in green who carved intricately in wood and stone. Plaques, statuettes, and linked figures filled his shelves. There were several musical instruments of exactly the type and size they had seen by the seaside cliff on Oria. The giant’s mind was open; he responded immediately to Seqiro’s first questing thought. Just like that, they had communication with a Megaplayer.
“We need your help,” Darius said to the man.
“I hear you, but I do not see you,” the giant responded, looking around.
“We are from Oria, a smaller world. We seek to bring the anima.”
“Then show yourselves.”
Nona made an illusion picture, so large that the man could see it without difficulty. It showed the group of them.
“A man, three women, and a horse, all in little-world scale,” the giant said. “This is not the way the animus passes.”
Nona stepped forward, in the image. “I am the ninth of the ninth,” she said. “I can bring the anima—but I need the help of the Megaplayers.”
The giant considered the image. Darius, viewing it with a man’s eye, knew it was impressive. Nona was about as pretty a young woman as could be found, in form and feature. Colene’s advice about the supportive undergarment now caused Nona’s bosom to manifest magnificently despite the unflattering tunic. She was also nice, and Seqiro was sending the impression of that niceness to the giant. Even though there was such a disparity in size that she could never be a romantic prospect for such a man, such an image and impression had to be highly conducive. It was for Darius, who was as surely barred from her as was the giant, for different reason.
But the man waggled a finger at them warningly, now looking directly at them where they stood on the sill. “Do not seek to use your magic on me,” he said. As he spoke, he floated up, not far, but it was clear that his feet no longer touched the floor. A knife appeared in his hand, became a hammer, and floated back to its tool-box.
“You are a despot!” Nona exclaimed, astonished and dismayed. “But you are not in black!”
“I am a man,” the giant replied. “Call me Angus. Not all of those with magic choose to be despotic. Some prefer to be creative. I wear green because I am uncommitted to any class or creed.”
That was evidently true. This man lived alone and was a craftsman, though he was not compelled to do or be either. He had no concern with status; that was why Seqiro had not picked up on it. But his magic and his mind made him dangerous. He could destroy them in an instant, if he chose.
“I am Nona. How can I convince you?”
“I know something of this matter,” Angus said. “I have no special commitment to the existing order, and am willing to see it change. But the man could be doing the magic, and you may be a pretender trying to deceive me. You must demonstrate your special power of anima.”
Nona hesitated. “But I do not know what this is,” she said. “That is why I have come to you.”
Darius hoped that this confession did not destroy her credibility. It was true that a despot man would have all the powers of magic Nona could show, so that only in the absence of the others could she demonstrate it. But it would not be wise for them to separate. The giant might simply make her captive in a cage secured by magic, and none of her talents would free her then. Of course Darius would be able to conjure her out, but that would prove only his magic, not hers.
“The true harbinger of anima will have the power of music,” Angus said.
“I can play!” Nona said. “All my life—”
“This is more than training,” Angus said. “This is the most subtle but powerful magic, apart from the invocation of the anima itself. It is the power to persuade any person of any world to do your will. To serve you voluntarily, and never betray you. Play that music for me, and I will serve you. I will not do so otherwise.”
“But I can not—would not want to compel—”
“You would give up your destiny?”
“No!”
“Then put it to the test, little woman. Play.”
“But I did not bring my instruments!”
Angus arched a brow. “You lack the magic of compaction?” The hammer reappeared in his hand. Then it shrank, becoming a miniature of itself. When it was so small it would fit Nona’s hand, it floated to her at the sill.
She caught it, surprised. “I can’t do that.” She reconsidered. “That is, not that way. I could transform it into something else which is larger or smaller, of a different substance, then reshape it, but it would not be exactly the same in detail.”
“Try it, Nona,” he said. “Restore it to proper size.”
She looked doubtfully at the hammer, and concentrated.
The hammer expanded.
Nona was so surprised she dropped it. But it hovered as if caught by an unseen hand; Angus had used his magic. It remained as it had been when her hand left it, about twice its prior size.
She took it again, and it resumed its growth. It became as large as she was, and larger, so that she no longer supported it; instead she merely touched it while it floated. When it was a monster four times her body length she removed her hand. She had done it.
“So you have that magic,” Angus said, as the hammer floated back to him. “But is it yours—or the man’s?” He glanced at Darius.
“My magic differs,” Darius said. He brought out his icon, marked two circles, designated them in his mind, and moved the doll from one to the other. In this manner he conjured himself to the sill on the opposite side of the room. “I am here,” he said from behind the giant.
“That was not illusion,” Angus said. “Now I am impressed. There is no magic of this nature on this world.”
“I am from another reality. Our magic is sympathetic.”
“You also have the mind-talk?”
“No. That is Seqiro, the horse. He is from still another reality.”
“And the old and young women?”
“From two other realities,” Darius said. “One remembers what is to come, and the other deals in science, which is another specialized form of magic.”
“You are a remarkable group!” Angus exclaimed.
“But we need your help, for our separate reasons,” Darius said.
“Let Nona play, and I may be persuaded,” Angus said.
“But I have no dulcimer,” Nona protested. “I can not make one that would work; I lack the craftsmanship. Had I realized that I could do the magic of compaction—I did not know it was possible—I would have brought it along. Do you have one that—?”
“I do not,” Angus said firmly. “But if I did, I would not lend it to you. The instrument must be of your world, for your magic to work with it. All folk are linked to their worlds, and draw on the magic of their worlds, even when on other worlds. If you are anima, you are anima for your world only; the rule differs for my world.”
Darius realized that that made sense. Nona was magical because she was the ninth of the ninth, and that surely was the requirement for Oria. It would not be for Jupiter.
Nona was appalled. “But to go all the way back for my dulcimer—”
“There may be an alternative,” Angus said. “I am something of an archaeologist, my interest being in tracing the routes of the diaspora of original mankind. On occasion there are items, left behind. There is a site not far from here which I have worked intermittently, as my interest allows. There may be a suitable instrument there, in the section I have not yet done. My illusion pictures are indistinct, but I think there is a dulcimer. If you can fetch it without disturbing the rest of the site, you can use that one.””