He needed to restore Bernard's senses if the magician was to be of any assistance. To do that, he'd have to establish exactly what was wrong with the man. For a wild instant, he grinned at his calmness. This was turning into a rational investigation in the best manner of modern magic. Test, observe, hypothesise, even while being menaced by a mindless creature intent on mayhem.
Bernard stumbled into the workshop, each footstep a ponderous one. His face was somehow both empty and cunning.
Quickly, Aubrey decided that Bernard didn't look like a docile experimental subject at all. He resolved to postpone a methodical examination until later, when he wasn't in danger of being torn apart.
Aubrey gathered himself, determined not to mess up this casting, and chanted the binding spell, twice in quick succession. Twin glowing ribbons flew across the room, one hobbling Bernard's feet and the other looping over his head to trammel his arms.
Aubrey was dismayed when Bernard managed to wrench one arm free, but as he struggled, it gave Aubrey a chance to snatch some chalk from the workbench. He edged past Bernard until he was directly behind him, in the alcove formed by the vestibule projecting into the room. Here Aubrey found the clear floor area that was vital in any magician's workshop. He dropped to his knees and hurriedly swept the dust away with a hand to find faint traces of chalk marks.
A roar and a crash made Aubrey's head jerk up. Bernard had managed to burst free of the glowing loop around his arm and chest, but his flailing combined with the binding on his feet had sent him sprawling against the workbench. A pile of glass photographic plates toppled and smashed, tins of powder sprayed and a wooden elephant marched up and down on the bench while playing a fanfare through its trunk. Bernard sprawled in this wreck, thrashing and managing to tangle himself in a large spring he'd dislodged from a brass orrery on the bench.
Concentrate! Aubrey told himself. He tried to work swiftly but methodically as he drew a simple restraining diagram. All he had time for was a straightforward double ring of chalk on the floor, but he strove to make up for its deficiencies, chanting while he inscribed, throwing together variables of integrity, volume and duration. His palms were sweating, and a monstrous headache pounded behind his temples, but he kept his grip on the chalk, not wanting any irregularity in the double lines. He joined the loop together and stood, the completed ring between him and Bernard. Aubrey waved to attract his attention.
Bernard had freed himself from the tangle of glassware and wire. His legs were free of the last glowing loop. Green oil dripped from one of his arms, but he didn't seem to notice. He turned, searching, in a complete circle, kicking aside a flat metal bowl which spun on its rim, but it was only when he noticed Aubrey's waving that he fixed on his target and started in that direction.
Aubrey's head pounded as Bernard came closer to the trap. In a few more paces he'd step into the ring and Aubrey would have him, safe and locked up.
Aubrey froze. He stared at the diagram on the floor, stunned at his ineptitude. He'd made a novice's mistake and not left a gap in the ring. Bernard wouldn't be able to get inside.
With Bernard only a few feet away, Aubrey leaped across the ring and broke the chalk line with his foot. The gap was small, but he gambled that it was enough of an interruption to the integrity of the restraining figure.
Aubrey retreated, using himself as bait. Bernard didn't hesitate. He lifted his massive leg and stepped into the circle.
Aubrey twisted and backed away as Bernard pawed at him, ending up outside the ring, pressed against the wall. With a shake of his head, he realised that this time he had literally backed himself into a corner.
Chalk still in hand, he pushed off the wall and into a forward roll that evaded Bernard's grasp. He somersaulted to his feet, dizzily, to see Bernard's vast back, like a cliff, in front of him. He bent and with a few quick slashes of chalk he sealed the gap in the ring. He straightened, panting and feeling sick. Bernard was trapped.
He hoped.
Bernard turned, seeking his prey. He swayed from side to side, then tottered toward Aubrey, but when he reached the confines of the ring he jolted to a halt, as if he'd run into a sheet of glass. He edged sideways, but still couldn't step over the chalk line. His growl changed to a desperate moan as he worked his way right around the ring until he was facing Aubrey again.
Aubrey felt sorry for the mindless Bernard. Or was it still Bernard, he wondered. If you take enough away from a person, is it a person any more? He shuddered at the implications.
He chanted his binding spell again, summoning the glowing ribbons. Unimpressed with their flimsiness, he took a rubber band and the glue pot from his pocket. He improvised a spell which drew on the Law of Transference and the Law of Essence. He wanted to use the stickiness of the glue and the elasticity of the rubber band to improve the effect of the spell, but he faltered. He was weaker than he had been at the university, when his spell attempt had failed. Should he be attempting something so complex while he was exhausted and aching?
Self-belief was matched against self-doubt. Aubrey was heartened when self-belief won by an innings and a handful of runs. He launched into the spell, hands curled into fists of determination.
He sighed with relief when the glowing loops behaved as he'd hoped. Bernard struggled with the bonds, but where he'd been able to rip the previous effort apart, this time the bands stretched then snapped back, frustrating his attempts. And the more he struggled, the more his limbs clung to each other as the stickiness went to work.
Soon, Bernard was snared in multiple glowing ribbons, contorted awkwardly with his arms wrapped around his body. He wobbled for a moment, then toppled, landing on his back with a crash that shook the whole workshop.
Aubrey let out a long, thankful breath. His hands trembled. Dizziness swept through him until he reached out and steadied himself against the wall. He'd exerted himself and he knew that this was hastening the deterioration of his condition. He ran his fingers through his hair and was stunned when clumps came loose.
He stared at the dull, black strands. He was falling apart.
Wearily, he dropped to his knees. He crawled to Bernard's side to find that the magician's struggles had lessened. He lay almost motionless, his blank gaze on the ceiling.
Aubrey placed an open hand on Bernard's chest and extended his magical awareness. Then he drew back at what he found.
It looked like a person, but the creature was a shell. It explained the violence of Monsieur Jordan and the poor woman at the university. Only the basest, primeval instincts were left to animate the body. Defensive and violent, reacting aggressively to what they dimly perceived, they lashed out like animals.
Full of pity, Aubrey stared at the old magician. Bernard's soul was gone – and yet his body survived.
Aubrey shook his head. Without a soul, Bernard should be dead. His soul, once severed from his body, should have fled through the portal that led to the true death. Of all people, Aubrey knew that. Then how was this thing still alive – if it could be called life?