--------------------------------------------------- TO HELL AND BACK Chapter 1 - And From Endings Came A New Beginning Original Concept by Steven Scougall, 1999 This part by Steven Scougall --------------------------------------------------- Treisel Arrayarli had to write a thesis. He'd had a lot of good ideas about what it could be on. All the theses he'd heard about had sounded extremely stupid, and had topics like the theoretical trajectory of golf balls in a lunar environment, or the migratory habits of flying elephants. So he'd decided to do something different. Unfortunately, Dr. Pfhizzitd, his supervisor, had turned down all his suggestions. His first, "Having fun with levitation" had been turned down in just three seconds. His second, "Practical uses of x-ray vision" had been turned down in four. It was quite disheartening, really. Didn't the old goat recognise a great idea when he heard one? Then he'd worked out the language his supervisor spoke and had suggested "Common aspects of lightning spells in the magical systems of Zinnonth", which was slightly better in that it had been turned down in thirty minutes - a vast improvement. The groundbreaking implications of "Research into earthquakes and the magic to suppress them" had been ignored; the old goat had then muttered something about 'safe research.' There had been many weeks of protest in much the same vein. Treisel would suggest a topic and Pfhizzitd would nearly have a heart attack, and then uncategorically refuse before suggesting something tremendously boring, such as "The common thaumic modulation of the syllable 'felm' in the greater magical paradigms of Zinnonth." But the two had finally decided on a topic that Dr. Pfhizzitd had thought was sensible and safe enough, and Treisel thought was at least halfway interesting. He was going to write about "The implications of Faster Than Very Fast Speeds when measured relative to each other." Pfhizzitd said the implications could dramatically increase the boundaries of human understanding; Treisel accepted the old man's proposal because it meant he got to fly around on magic carpets at exhilarating speeds fast enough to cover half the continent in just a few hours. The issue of the topic thus resolved, a wary truce had settled between the two. They kept this truce by devoting much of their time and effort into avoiding each other as much as possible. Which suited Treisel just fine. Pfhizzitd was so incredibly boring and restrictive. Hopefully, he'd only have to see the old goat a couple of times, towards the end of the three years he had to write the thing. But until then, he was free. Free to do what he wanted, and enjoy all the benefits that being a PhD student at the Great Zinnonthian University's highly esteemed Faculty of Magic would bring. He was FREE - He had to submit a first draft in a week's time. He stared, blinking, at the calendar he'd just unpacked and was about to hang on the wall of his dorm room. He'd been doing this for just one semester so far and they wanted him to submit a 10,000 word first draft? Didn't they know that went against the whole idea of a thesis? Didn't they know that the entire essence of being a PhD student was that you handed in only one thing, and that was at the end of the three-year haul? Didn't they know ANYTHING? There was a knocking at his door. Grumbling imprecations and curses under his breath he went to answer it. It was Tao Feymu. She was wearing her usual simple clothes, glasses, and frizzy braid. As her appearance suggested, she was a slightly mousy undergraduate, and she'd started at the Faculty of Magic just last semester. One day the two had just started talking - he could no longer remember how that had happened - and they'd become reasonably good friends since then. Despite her bookish attitude, enthusiasm for learning, and excellent grasp of theory, she was never very good at actual practical magic. For some reason she could never quite control it correctly. So it had been quite a surprise to see her back for the second semester - apparently she'd aced the theory questions on the first semester finals, and the Faculty had suggested that she go into theoretical research. She hadn't been happy with that, as she'd told him on more than one occasion that she'd always wanted to become a great sorcerer, and the Facluty's suggestion had dulled her usual happy disposition. Even here, right now, she looked glum. Trying to lift her spirits, he grinned his best disarming grin. "Hey, Tao, what's up?" She sighed. "It's your supervisor, Dr. Pfhizzitd, again. He wants to see you in his office in a couple of hours." He rolled his eyes. "I'm NOT surprised. I just got a nasty reminder that I have a first draft due in a couple of weeks. No doubt old Fizzit wants to see me about that." She giggled nervously, as she always did when he called his supervisor 'Fizzit'. "Anyway, thanks Tao, I'd better get myself ready for the meeting. Ta." "See you..." "Yeah, seeya." She turned to go and he closed the door, and frowned. A meeting with old Fizzit in just a couple of hours. To see how his first draft was going, no doubt. He *knew* it wasn't going to go well, because he hadn't actually written anything yet. True, he had done some research, but Fizzit would say it was nowhere near enough. He grimaced. He was NOT looking forward to this afternoon's meeting. * * * * * Tao went only a couple of steps, and then turned and looked at Treisel's door half-expectantly. Surely he would suddenly understand all the subtle hints she'd been dropping since the second day she had seen him. He would open the door and be framed dramatically by the light, and claim that she was the only one for him. She stood there looking for a couple of minutes before deciding that no, he wouldn't be doing that today either. She sighed dejectedly, and continued down the hallway. It was always the same. She wore her best clothes, the rose tinted glasses, and let her hair out of its usual severe bun, laughed when he joked about Dr. Pfhizzitd's name, did her best to tell him she was interested... None of her friends had this sort of problem with men. But they were the sort that wore really small skirts, bared their stomachs and just about everything else as well, and the men were falling over each other trying to get at them. Why, Musca even dyed her hair blue, green, and yellow. Tao could NEVER bring herself to do something outlandish like that. If only she wasn't so *shy*. If she was just a bit more forward... just a bit nervier... Then perhaps she could bring herself to tell him... She sighed and continued down the hallway, feeling miserable. This was nothing new. She'd been feeling miserable ever since the beginning of the first semester. Treisel's continuing blindness was only part of it - there was her continuing inability to actually perform magic. No matter how much she tried, no matter how well she studied the theory, no matter how perfectly she visualised the intended effect in her mind, it never quite came out right. When she tried levitation she flew sideways into the wall. When she tried divination the only things she ever saw in the scrying crystal were embarrassing incidents from her past. When she tried lifting things with just her mind they spun around in circles and sometimes turned into confused birds. The one time she'd tried teleporting, she and half her bed had ended up a hundred meters above the Faculty of Heroism's swimming pool. And when she stepped up to the firing range, people dove for cover. It was all so disheartening... She wanted to be a great sorcerer, had wanted to for as long as she could remember. But the way things were going the best she'd ever manage was a Theoretical Researcher. There was no justice in the world. She pulled herself out of the familiar thoughts before they got much more depressing, and checked the nearest chronostone. That was another thing. She could never wear a portable chronostone, they always became wildly inaccurate after only a day or two. She always had to go by public ones, and sometimes there wasn't one handy. A minor matter compared to everything else, but it was just another thing in the long list of life's annoyances... She couldn't afford to let the depressing thoughts get her down. She savagely fought them back, and forced her attention back to the hall's chronostone and the numbers it displayed. It was ten minutes to noon, and she had a tutorial in just a little while. She hurried back to her room to get her books and over to the classroom, walked in early - There was a class already there - somehow, in her dour mood, she hadn't noticed. But that wasn't what really caught her attention. No, the first thing she noticed was the tutor flying screaming through the closed window. The second thing she noticed was a fire breaking out on the desk at the front of the room. "FIRE!" she screamed, and instinctively cast a Water spell. As usual, it didn't work. Instead of the localised deluge of water onto the fire she wanted, water flew from her in all directions, along with clouds, wind currents, and even a lightning bolt or two. A student yelped in panic as an arc of lightning came close enough to him to rip his hat from his head. He gestured at the sudden storm, shouting arcane and mystical words. In response, a lightning bolt split into several, which arced around the room, smashing chairs and desks into smithereens. A student just next to Tao screamed and fell, several wooden splinters in her back. By now everybody in the room was screaming and jumping out the windows or running out the door, the magic alarms were blaring, and the room was a big mess of confused noise. A few enterprising students had stayed behind and tried to dispel the storm with their best magic, but their efforts weren't working. If anything, they seemed to be making things worse. Another lightning bolt flared into existence, smashed into a stray spellbook, and there was an almighty explosion. The rain and the flames fought for supremacy, there was a sizzling noise and smoke was everywhere. Triggered by the smoke, the fire alarms finally went off, their klaxons adding to the general noise and chaos. The doors slammed open and the University's Emergency Squad dashed into the room, just in time for the fire alarms to trigger their rain spells. But instead of falling from the roof, huge geysers of water flew from every conceivable surface in every conceivable direction. The water kept on coming for a few moments, with no sign of it letting up. "ENOUGH!" screamed Dr. Bulman, the leader of the Emergency Squad. He raised his hands and shouted mystical and arcane words at the top of his voice, and the chaos instantly stopped. "A Dispel Magic spell... A really high level one..." breathed the same student from before. Water cascading over the brim of his wizardly hat, the wizard glowered at the few students remaining in the room. "WHAT HAPPENED HERE?!?" he screamed at them, his face purple with anger. Tao and the students started babbling, scared out of their skulls and into inanity. "It was her!" "I just walked in!" "Dr. Shimsen was demonstrating Levitation and then he suddenly flew sideways out the window!" "And then a desk caught fire!" "Get Lenna to the infirmary, quick! She's hurt!" "And then she started screaming and cast a huge storm to take care of it!" "I just cast a simple Water spell!" "Looked more like a Storm spell to me!" "Vektor turned a lightning bolt into six!" "I was trying to stop it! But instead it split!" "EVERYBODY SHUT UP!" The students instantly stopped their chatter, feeling very small indeed in the face of Dr. Bulman's ire. "Now," he said grimly, "you are going to stop babbling and you are going to tell me what happened. Slowly, and from the top. Cooperate and we have the least amount of unpleasantness." The students gulped nervously, loud enough for Tao to hear them. * * * * * Treisel seemingly dragged himself along the hallway, somehow managed to open his door, staggered a couple more steps and crashed onto his bed. The meeting with Dr. Pfhizzitd had NOT gone well. As Treisel had thought, he wasn't happy with Treisel's progress. Much to the displeasure of both, Pfhizzitd had scheduled half-weekly updates until he was sure Treisel was back on track, and had grudgingly given him a week's extension for the first draft. And even though it was a first draft the standards weren't much laxer. No, Treisel had to write at least 10,000 words. He could clearly remember Pfizzitd's explanation - "Most of what's in the first draft will probably be cut from the final version. You need as much as possible." Treisel didn't believe it for a second. But his supervisor was the one calling the shots, and Treisel didn't have a choice. How was he supposed to write a 10,000 word first draft in just two weeks? "That's not my problem," the old goat had said, "*I'm* not the one who's writing this thesis, boy. Now get cracking. You've got two weeks." Treisel ran a few calculations in his head to work out what writing speed he would need to write that many words in two weeks, assuming he needed to sleep. Once he got the answer he realised he'd spent ten words worth of time on what was likely a flawed calculation. And he'd only done the most basic research so far, too. He'd need to do some more, too. What the hell was he going to DO? He lay there for an hour, staring at the ceiling, trying to work out what could be done. Never mind the fact that he was wasting valuable writing time. But despite an hour of almost constant thought, he couldn't think of anything... He sat up on the edge of the bed and looked around his room, looking for inspiration. His posters of popular bards were no help. If anything, they were just more distractions. His desk held no clues. The chronostone above the door just glowed slightly, the numbers in it showing that it was late afternoon - no help there. His roving gaze found his bookcase. Briefly he wondered if there was anything in "The Amazing and Improbable Adventures of Smith Yintana" that applied to this sort of situation, and then dismissed the idea. While Yintana was a learned academic, there was nothing in any of the twenty volumes about his actual PhD days. His attention wandered on and then stopped. His bookcase. With the more useful textbooks and notes from his undergraduate days on the lowest shelf, behind the tacky magazines. Including all his old spellbooks. His attention dragged itself back to the bookcase. An idea came to him, slowly. It was simple and it would solve a lot of the problems in just a couple of nights, too. But he thought slowly and hesitantly - to actually pull this crazy idea off he'd need to use a *lot* of magic, and he'd have no room for error. It also meant he'd be cheating. No, not just cheating, it'd be worse than just cheating. If he got caught, being expelled was the best he could expect. He didn't want to think about what the worst could be. But what else could he do? Well, he could be honest and do his best to write 10,000 words in two weeks. He mulled that over, considered his options and eventually reached a decision. * * * * * Being the Chancellor of the Great Zinnonthian University was not an easy job. The University had fifty faculties and an average of ten departments in each faculty. Half the faculties deeply distrusted the other half, and interfaculty warfare wasn't just common, but expected. In addition, the campus was enormous, in order to accommodate approximately five hundred departments, and the groundskeeping staff was similarly enormous, with a very high turnover rate caused by magical accidents and the occasional interfaculty warfare. The canteens strained to meet up with demand of the staff, students, and occasional many-toothed green monsters who had been created by the aforementioned magical accidents and wanted a chicken sandwich. To top it all off, there was also the surrounding town of Zinnonea, and its council was always complaining about how an institution the University's size should be paying much more tax. They never minded the fact that the original reason for the town's existence was the University and that without it the town would be much less important. The effect, thought Chancellor Feyluck Hatstring, was much like trying to control six hundred self-important young children, each trying to shout the loudest, and each wanting more pocket money. Feyluck Hatstring wasn't his real name, of course. He was from the Illylyawamal valley, and his name was really Pbvheywlliuhcqkwe Hattdhessztryinggnkgywe - a fine old Illylyawamalese name. However, this was the most unpronounceable name in the entire Great Zinnonthian University, and nobody on his staff could ever pronounce it properly. He'd told his staff his nickname - Pbvheiy - but nobody had been able to pronounce that properly, either. So instead of stumbling around the vagaries of Illylyawamelese pronunciation, people had suited his name to their own pronunciation and started calling him Chancellor Hatstring. His first name followed the same route shortly after and became Feyluck. He'd protested, at first. But that had been long ago. He now accepted the change, even to the point where he sometimes signed official documents with the simplified name. "Chancellor Hatstring?" It was his secretary, poking her head into his office. "Yes? What is it?" "It's Dr. Zerev. He says it's urgent." Chancellor Hatstring pursed his lips thoughtfully. Dr. Zerev was the head of the Faculty of Magic, easily the most powerful faculty of the entire university. It was so powerful and so influential in the University that most Chancellors were drawn from it. Annoying its director was not a good idea. And anyway, Hatstring knew the man well, from his own student days - Zerev wasn't one to embellish his statements. If he said that something was urgent, it was something that had to be seen to right away. "Send Zerev in," he instructed. "Tell the Head of the Faculty of Dentistry that he'll have to wait." "Yessir," she said, and retracted her head. It opened a moment later and Zerev came through, a dejected looking young woman walking in behind him. "So, Zerev. Tell me what's so important." "I'm sure you remember... ah... *those* accidents that we've been having ever since the beginning of this year." "The ones where many tentacled monsters keep on appearing at the top of the Tower and head straight for the womens' bathrooms?" "Ah... no. Not those. We're still trying to work out what's causing those ones." "Then are they the ones where students mysteriously disappear into the depths of one of the libraries and show up a few days later, saying they've been in an alternate world for months?" "Um, no, not those ones, either. No, I mean the ones where tutorials and spell demonstrations in lectures have gone awry, and the tutors and lecturers responsible have sworn blind they didn't do anything." "Oh, *those* ones." Chancellor Hatstring remembered those. They were quite irritating, for even when subjected to heavy questioning the lecturers and tutors stuck to their story. And when asked to perform the spell that had gone wrong, they could always perform them without a problem. It was almost certainly not them, but if it wasn't them, then what was causing the accidents? Intuition, coupled with the immediate facts, suggested that the young woman with Zerev was the one responsible. He nodded towards her. "This is the girl responsible?" "Well, after a fashion, she is." "Expel her at once then." He glared at the girl, who shrank back from his gaze in fear. "Young lady, this is the last time you'll make a mockery of-" "Ah, that's not quite it, Chancellor." Hatstring blinked audibly. "Would you care to explain?" "It might be better if I give a demonstration, first. It'll be easier to understand, then." The head of the Faculty of Magic reached into his robe and pulled out a metal bar. "Have a look at this." Hatstring took the bar. As he had been selected for the Chancellorship from the Faculty of Magic, he could instantly recognise the magical energies inside the metal and what they meant. The bar was an old style magical thaumometer - the size and colour of the bar changed to reflect the level of the surrounding magical field. If it was blue and small, then there was very little magic in the area. On the other extreme if the bar was red and larger than a brick, it meant that you should be running for the hills before a stray magical current turned you into a newt. But old style thaumometers like this were never completely accurate and were very hard to read. Some time ago a research team from the Faculty of Magic had developed a better design, where there was a needle that pointed to a wheel of numbers, and stronger magical fields pushed the needle further to the right. The newer style thaumometers were more accurate and easier to read, and the old style had all but died out. Chancellor Hatstring hmmphed and placed the bar back onto his desk. "So it's an old style magical thaumometer. Why don't you go with one of the more recent ones? Those are better." "Ah, but they can't do this." Zerev took the bar back and tossed it gently to the young girl, but she made no move to catch it. When the bar was ten feet away from the girl it suddenly slewed to the side at incredible speed, then abruptly changed course and spun rapidly around her for a few moments. With a suddenness that left him gasping, it stopped dead in front of her, and he could see that the bar had turned into a sphere sometime during its wild flight. As Hatstring watched in stunned amazement the sphere became a fork, a spoon, a rake, and for a very brief moment it was a confused frog, and then the frog was a sphere again. It slowly elongated into the shape of a cylinder, slowly spiraling outwards as it changed. Without warning it started hurtling around the girl in completely unpredictable patterns. Sometimes it stopped long enough for Zerev and Hatstring to see that it had changed shape again. One moment it was a coil, another it was a lamp, another it was a bird, another it was a full size desk, causing the girl to go 'eep!' and duck her head as it hurtled past and smashed a picture hanging on the wall. Hatstring winced - that had been a favorite of his. "Very interesting Zerev, but stop that damn thing before it ruins any more of my office." The thaumometer was now a chair hanging ponderously in the air in front of the girl. "Yes, Chancellor. Miss Feymu," called Zerev, "step away from it now, while it's stationary." "Yes, Dr. Zerev," she said miserably, and stepped away. Just as she did so the thaumometer-turned-chair changed into a duck. It dropped to the floor and quacked a couple of times. "They always seem to settle on ducks," said Zerev musingly. The duck quacked forlornly a couple of times, and then waddled over to Hatstring's desk and jumped, wings flapping madly, up onto the top of it. Hatstring slowly edged away - his experience with animals was limited to dead ones at dinner, and he wasn't quite sure how to deal with a real live duck right in front of him like this. It quacked a couple more times. If Hatstring was any judge of avian expressions, the duck was quite thoroughly confused. Alright, he thought, I don't blame it if it's confused, it was a thaumometer not too long ago... It quacked yet again. This time, however, there was smoke coming from its bill. "It's happening again! DOWN! UNDER THE DESK!" screamed Zerev, as he and Tao dove behind the sofa. Hatstring didn't need to be told twice - showing remarkable strength and agility for a man of his age, he kicked his chair away and rolled under his desk. And not a moment too soon - there was a muffled explosion, and then there were feathers and paperwork floating everywhere. There was a slapping noise, followed closely by Zerev saying "OW!" and then by the girl shouting "Get OFF me, old pervert," her voice muffled and full of acid. Hatstring emerged from under his desk in time to see Zerev hastily jump to his feet, mumbling apologies as he went. Hatstring ignored the head of the Faculty of Magic, however, as his attention was focussed on his office. It was a mess. Paper and feathers were everywhere - on the carpet, in the bookshelves, in the lamp and there were even a couple comically sticking out of Zerev's hair. What was left of the duck was a red splatter all over his desk. His priceless, Illylyawamalese oak, desk. He saw red, which wasn't just the duck's blood. "My DESK! That damn thing just ruined my desk!" "Sorry, sir," said Zerev. "I didn't think it would do that again." "What do you mean by 'again'?" he raged. "You KNEW this would happen?" "I didn't think it would happen so soon after the last time. It makes sense for it to be as random as possible." "Zerev," said Hatstring dangerously, "would you mind telling me what the hell you're talking about?" "It's quite simple, really," said the director of the Faculty of Magic. "Miss Feymu here has an aura of magical disruption around her. As you can see, it's not just the usual case where the magic flows are reversed. Her distortion effect causes random and bizarre mutations of the magical field. Shapechanging, direction changes, and so on and so forth. "We theorise that it might be some sort of protection. After all, if a fireball cast at her turns into a confused duck, it can't hurt her. We aren't sure, however, and we are further confounded by the fact that Miss Feymu cannot remember anything that would have caused this effect. Our preliminary studies indicate that it is not a fundamental part of her - in other words, it was forced on her, probably a long time ago. That would be consistent with her not being able to remember what could have caused it." "Interesting," Hatstring said, once Zerev had finished his explanatory exposition. He sat back in his chair, placed his feet on his desk, and chewed his lip as he thought about this development. Auras that disrupted the magical flow were not that uncommon. However, most of the time they were a simple reversal of the magical field, and once the magic user discovered that he or she had such an aura it was easily compensated for; they just cast their magic in reverse. There were some rare cases of sideways distortion, which was a lot harder to account for, but still possible. There had even once been a case where a student had a distortion field that turned all his spells into Change To Frog spells. The student was still trying to work out a way around it, but at least the effect was regular. Miss Feymu's wasn't. Hers was random, something which had never been seen before. And Hatstring wasn't sure if there was anything the girl could do about it. Why did she have it? Zerev had indicated that it had been forced on her. But the girl couldn't remember anything that would have caused it. Either she had blocked out the experience - which was quite possible, inflicting a magic distortion effect on someone was traumatic indeed. Or it had been done long ago, when she was just a small child. But who would DO such a thing? And WHY? That was something he could worry about later. For now, he had Policy to Make. And he could think of something right away - there was a spell that couldn't possibly be distorted. "Zerev, I want you to go and teach Miss Feymu the most powerful Dispel Magic spell the Faculty knows. Her distortion field won't be able to affect that." On the periphery of his vision he could see the girl brighten up. "And then come back..." he checked his calendar. "Come back tomorrow afternoon, once I've had time to work out what to do about this." "Shall I bring her along?" "That would be a good idea." "Right, Chancellor." Zerev turned to go. "Come on, Miss Feymu, let us go. We have a spell for me to teach and for you to learn." * * * * * Treisel needed a book. It wasn't just any book. It was a very specific and very magical one. And there was only the original - because of its nature, copies of it simply couldn't be made. And precisely because it was so dangerous and so magical it was held in the maximum security vaults of the Faculty of Magic's library. The very library he was currently standing outside. From his furtive manner and the fact that it was the middle of the night, it might be guessed that Treisel wasn't going to borrow it legally. No, if he'd gone in during normal borrowing hours and asked to borrow it, its existence would be denied and he'd be laughed out of the building. Even if they took him seriously, they'd want to know why he wanted it, and then there'd be trouble. Treisel looked nervously from side to side, made sure nobody was watching, and muttered a few words of power under his breath. There, that should take care of the alarms on the window. He jumped up and scrambled through it, using magic to unlock the window as he went, and dropped noiselessly to the floor below. After a nerve-wracking hour, during which he expended a lot of magic on detecting and deactivating the alarms, occasional guards, and the guards' magical protection, he scrambled back out the window. Slowly, as if fearing that going quickly would reveal his presence, he eased up on the magic that was silencing the alarms. There. All the alarms were working again, and none of them had gone off when he'd started them up again. And if the vault was as unused as the dust on the floor had seemed to indicate, nobody would be going in there for a while, and so wouldn't notice that the book was missing. Good god, he was tired. He'd been expending so much magic in there... He tried not to slump to the ground and fall asleep. He had to get back to his room before collapsing - being discovered out here in the morning would waste all his efforts. With the last of his fading strength, he muttered the words to a Rejuvenate spell. A moment passed, during which he thought he'd miscast the spell for sure, and then he felt energy running back into him, along his limbs, firing his brain back into gear. There. He'd be able to last a few more hours. He quickly picked up the book where he'd dropped it, clutched it to his chest like the prize it was, and hurried back to his room, being as quiet and stealthy as possible. He slipped up the stairs, padded quietly along the hallway, noiselessly unlocked his door, carefully opened it, ducked inside his room, and slowly closed the door again. He fought a sudden irrational urge to dance around cheering for a job well done. That would ruin everything he'd just worked for. He had it, he had the BOOK! It was, if the rumors were true, the Book of all Books. It was a stupendously magical tome and contained every book that had ever been written, was being written, and would be written. It contained all the books that might have been, all those that the authors gave up on halfway through, but in what their full form would have been. It was a rather boring red colour and looked like it had only a few pages. However, Treisel knew that in this case appearances were deceiving. Oh, were they ever deceiving. He looked at the Book thoughtfully. On its cover was a simple title - "The Book of Books." Curious, he flipped through its few pages, and as he did so his mouth dropped open. In its few pages there was a simple user manual. Everything he needed to know about working the Book and even a troubleshooting section at the back. He quickly read through it, gleaning as much information as he could, and then closed it with a decisive snap. He held it up in front of him and said "I would like my thesis on 'The implications of Faster Than Very Fast Speeds when measured relative to each other.'" The Book remained unchanged. Cursing quietly, he opened it to go through the troubleshooting section again. But he didn't get any further than the first page - it had changed and now had a paragraph or two politely explaining that an error had occurred and perhaps he hadn't quite asked the right question. Treisel cursed again - he thought he'd been quite specific. He closed the Book and tried again. "I, Treisel Arrayarli, would like the full thesis I write on 'The implications of Faster Than Very Fast Speeds when measured relative to each other.'" The Book completely failed to morph into a nice fat book that easily contained at least 10,000 words. He opened it and saw that it had exactly the same error message from before. What was going on? Why wasn't it giving him his thesis? Was it because he never actually wrote it? But that was *insane.* According to the way the Book worked, if he even had the merest of intentions to write it, even if he wrote just *one* word, the Book *had* to give him his full thesis. And he *did* have full intention to write the stupid thing - it was why he'd risked stealing the Book in the first place. He reverted the Book back to its usual self and checked through the troubleshooting section again, but it was no help at all. He closed the Book and tried a slightly different approach. "I, Treisel Arrayarli, would like my research for my thesis on 'The implications of Faster Than Very Fast Speeds when measured relative to each other' in a nicely summarised format." The Book flickered again and the title changed to what he had requested. But it was only about a hundred pages long. Only a hundred? That was nowhere near enough research for a 10,000 word thesis... Feeling increasingly nervous, Treisel opened the Book to see what it contained. It wasn't much. Most of the pages were filled with the methods he'd tried and the results he'd gotten so far. But on the last couple of pages there was something new - a hastily scribbled incantation that he didn't recognise. There were no notes on what the results of the spell were. What the hell was going on? How did one simple spell constitute all the further research he did for his research? He should have thought more about things, and studied the spell a bit further. And normally he would have. But in his agitated state he let things get the better of him. Perhaps it was just his nervousness. Maybe the artificial stimulation of the Rejuvenate spell was messing up his thinking slightly. Whatever the reason, he followed the directions and chanted words he didn't recognise. For a moment nothing happened. Then there was a faint pop and a demonic figure that looked as if it came from the depths of Hell (which was quite a coincidence) appeared in the middle of his room, a trident held threateningly in one hand. At the same time every single alarm in the building went off. Treisel's stomach filled with dread. It was all clear now. He summoned the demon to ask it questions about the implications of Faster Than Very Fast Speeds when measured relative to each other, and its presence set off the alarms. The Faculty's Emergency Squad identified what set off the alarms and broke into his room - Right on cue, the Emergency Squad broke down his door, their staffs pointed at everything in sight. - he was discovered with the Book - Bulman, the leader of the Emergency Squad, saw the Book in Treisel's hand and his eyes widened, and then narrowed. "Let me see that!" he shouted, swiping it from Treisel's unresisting hand, and quickly flicked through the pages. "God Almighty, this is The Book! You're going DOWN, sonny!" he roared into Treisel's face. - and he went down in flames. Was expelled, to be specific - "First thing in the morning, you're seeing Chancellor Hatstring! You'll be lucky if you're just expelled!" shouted the leader, right on cue. - and thus he never even started his thesis, explaining why The Book couldn't pick it up, and he never did any more research for The Book to pick out of the literary dimensions. "But for now, you're going into the cells," said Bulman, grimly. Treisel sighed and slumped. It was all clear, now. "Hey, what's going on here?" asked the demon. * * * * * It was some time later. "Hi," said the demon amiably. "Go away," said Treisel. "You know I can't," it said reasonably. Treisel groaned again, and tried to get comfortable. This was difficult. Cells weren't typically designed for comfort, and this one - a magically reinforced cell in the maximum security lockup of the University - was no exception. There was a pause, during which Treisel and the demon could hear the sounds of fighting coming from a nearby cell. That would be the party of drunken brawling louts from the Faculty of Adventurers that had been brought in a couple of hours back. All they had to worry about the next morning was some verbal abuse from their tutors. Treisel thought about what he was going to go through the next morning, and felt very very sorry for himself indeed. "I'm Wajissabequahze," said the demon. This was a sufficiently weird enough comment for Treisel to sit up and take notice. "Huh? What's wajass-" "It's my name," it said. "Wajissabequahze. What's yours?" Treisel groaned, and slumped again. The demon was just trying to be friendly, again. "I mean, I know your name's Treisel, because it got shouted a lot while we were being taken here, but that's not a proper introduction. I just thought that if you were going to be getting me back to Hell, it'd help if we knew who each other was." Treisel groaned, yet again. The demon had touched on yet another sore point of this entire mess. Not only had he accidentally summoned a mildly ineffectual demon, been caught in possession with The Book, and was going to be expelled, if he was lucky, there was also the fact that the demon had been stranded here in the mortal realm by its so called 'friends' as a practical joke. And as Wajissabequahze's Summoner Treisel had the responsibility of getting it back to Hell. Some god somewhere must be having a great big laugh at his expense. He muttered darkly, and tried to get comfortable again. There was nothing, now. His life, after he got expelled and turned out, wouldn't be worth much more than a puff of marsh gas. He knew his parents too well - they wouldn't be helping him out, oh no, they'd be furious. He wouldn't be able to even set foot in his hometown without something bad happening, possibly with spikes. He had about enough money to buy a day's worth of food. He wouldn't be able to go very far on just that. And where was he going to get more money? The employment prospects for expelled students were so slim they were practically nonexistent. And that's if he was just expelled. Nobody had ever said what the University might do that was worse than being expelled, and Treisel hoped he wasn't going to find out. And to top it all off this cell had no amenities - it was just a room of uncomfortable bare rock. No matter how much he squirmed against the walls, he couldn't get comfortable. Perhaps they were deliberately keeping him awake all night before he saw the Chancellor. Going by what he knew about the bullheaded Bulman, Treisel didn't doubt that possibility for a second. * * * * * It was the next morning. Or, in Treisel's case, later the same day. Tao was virtually skipping along the corridor. Alright, when she got down to the heart of the matter, nothing much had really changed. She still had that distortion effect in her aura, and she didn't know how to get around it. But the main thing was that she now knew it was there. Now she knew why she couldn't do magic very well. Also, she'd learned a really high level Dispel Magic spell. Alright, so she couldn't cast it very well at the moment - she still needed practical experience - but at last there was a magic spell she could perform. Plus it was a Dispel Magic spell, one of the more useful ones. She was going to see Chancellor Hatstring later today - surely he'd worked out something that could be done. She wondered for a brief moment if he was going to send her off to some other university or something to get rid of her, but then dismissed the idea. The Chancellor, by reputation, looked out for every single one of his students. There were at least half a million of them, so he obviously couldn't look out for them individually, but at least he did so in spirit - Tao had experienced some of it yesterday. She had to go tell Treisel about all this. He'd be amazed to hear that she'd finally worked out why she couldn't do magic properly. Maybe even... just perhaps... he'd feel happy for her. He'd sweep her off her feet and look deeply into her eyes and... and... Tao started to feel uncomfortably hot and just a little bit foolish, and it seemed that ever her glasses were fogging up. She adjusted her clothing slightly, rubbed the fog from her glasses, and continued down the hallway, trying to banish all thoughts of how Treisel might react. After what seemed like an eternity, she was outside his door. She knocked loudly, barely able to contain her excitement. "Go 'way," came Treisel's voice. Tao's eyes widened - his voice was nothing like its usual happy tone. It was sullen, dejected, morose, and lots of other unhappy adjectives. "Treisel," she called softly, "it's me, Tao." "Who's Tao?" came an undoubtedly male voice, with a hint of gruffness. There was the sound of footsteps and then the door opened. Treisel was a mess. His appearance was shoddy - nothing like the usual smart and clearcut figure he usually represented. His hair was dirty and straggly, his face was haggard and his eyes were red - almost as if he'd been crying? "Oh my god, Treisel, what happened?" Her gaze widened, and she saw that his room was filled with boxes, and that he looked like he'd been interrupted in the middle of packing. On top of that, there was a male figure sitting on Treisel's bed - but it couldn't possibly be human. Humans, after all, generally didn't have flame-red skin, pointed ears, spiked tails, and little horns on their forehead. Not unless they were dressing up, that is. Tao immediately discounted that possibility. A demon in Treisel's room and he was packing, so soon after the start of second semester. There could only be one explanation... He must have noticed her shocked expression, for he then said, quite unnecessarily, "I've been expelled." "But... but... WHY? Why did you Summon a demon?" "I wasn't planning to," said Treisel. "Please, come in, I don't want everybody to be able to hear us." She was being invited into his room. Normally she would be so excited and giddy with the prospect she wouldn't be able to think and would make a complete and utter fool of herself. But in this situation being alone with him was the furthest thing from her mind. Once the door was shut she almost shouted. "What on earth made you Summon a demon? Don't you know that's really illegal according to GZU's rules?" "It was by accident!" he protested. "I wasn't trying to summon one, it just happened to be the spell in the -" he then faltered, and stopped. He was hiding something. "You're hiding something," she said. "Yes, I am," he sighed. "And when I tell you what you're going to think I'm the lowest of the low." No, don't tell me, don't ruin my perception of you, she said, but only inside her head. Something, maybe her shyness or possibly her curiosity, stopped her from saying it. Treisel went on. He explained how he'd got the idea of 'borrowing' The Book so he could see his thesis before he actually wrote it, how he'd stumbled across the demon summoning spell, and how he'd been caught both with The Book and a demon in his room. As he went, Tao's feelings sank further and further. This was the man she l... really liked, and to think that she felt that way about someone who would cheat like that... And, the weirdest thing about it all was that she still wanted t... she still l... really liked him. She felt that perhaps she shouldn't feel like this about him anymore, but... but... she couldn't stop just like that, couldn't get rid of her feelings for him... "You can guess what happened this morning. I was frogmarched by Bulman straight to Hatstring's office. There was lots of shouting. Because I've been a reasonably good student so far, Hatstring went easy on me and said he'd just expel me." "'Just'? That sounds pretty extreme to me. What could he do that's worse?" Treisel looked sick for a moment. "Don't ask. You wouldn't like to hear. So I'm packing up - I have to be out by the end of today." His mouth quirked. "But that's not all. Wajissabequahze here," he indicated the demon, "has been stranded in the mortal realm. I cast a Detect Magic spell to find out what was obstructing his line back, and found out that it had been blocked by his associates in Hell." "It's the kind of stupid practical joke those sods would play," said the demon named as Wajissabequahze. "And as his Summoner I have to get him back to the Gates of Hell." He paused. "Wherever the hell they are," he finished bitterly. "Entrance to it," the demon said promptly. "I've TOLD you, Waj," said Treisel tiredly, "that when a human puts the word 'hell' in their sentences, it's usually just for emphasis. They're not actually talking about Hell. Okay?" He turned his attention back to her. "And, of course, neither of us has a map." He paused and rubbed at his eyes for a moment. "Anyway, Tao, why'd you come? It'll be the last time you see me, probably, so it might be a good idea to say goodbye." Never see him again? She couldn't bear the thought of that, even if he had become a gross cheat. An idea burst to life in her head. "I have to go," she announced, and rushed out the door. "Tao, wait!" shouted Treisel, but she was already halfway down the corridor, and accelerating. * * * * * Tao skidded into Chancellor Hatstring's anteroom a few minutes later, caught the edge of the secretary's desk, and used it to hold herself upright as she panted in an effort to get her breath back. She noticed she hadn't heard the usual "How can I help you?" yet. She opened her eyes and saw that instead of the usual secretary, there was a man - more accurately, a man young enough to be called a boy - sitting behind the desk. His eyes were glazed slightly and fixed on her chest. Two seconds later he was on the floor and Tao was fuming in anger at the stupidity of perverts everywhere. She glowered at him for a few more moments, and then turned and strode towards the Chancellor's door. "Wait," he croaked, reaching a hand out imploringly, "you can't go in there. Chancellor Hatstring's in a meeting with my Head." "Your head?" she asked, confused. "Head of Department of Secretaries," he gasped, and then slumped, the effort too much for him. "Don't go," he mumbled. "I'll fail for sure." Fail? She knelt down and checked on him, and finally noticed the "Hi, I'm Neville, I'm on Work Experience from the Department of Secretaries, please be nice," badge on his shirt. In order to fit on the badge the writing was really small, which was why she hadn't noticed it before. She was instantly embarrassed and apologetic. "I'm sorry, Neville. But next time, don't stare at a woman's... um... well, don't look at her like that. It's not nice." She helped him back up. "Now, I have to see the Chancellor. It's urgent. It's about Treisel Arra-" His eyes lit up in recognition and he started rummaging amongst the paper on the desk. "Treisel Arrayarli? I know I left that note somewhere around here," he said, and continued to search. "Note?" "About Treisel Arrayarli's expulsion. Ah, here we go. Ahem. 'Treisel Arrayarli's expulsion is immediate and unchallengeable. Anybody that comes in to talk about it is to be turned away.'" He blinked. "So, um, I guess that means I have to politely but firmly turn you away, kind of thing." "I'm not going to leave," she said, determinedly. He looked at her, and the light glinted off his glasses. Suddenly, instead of being a weedy ineffectual geek from the Department of Secretaries, he was an unmovable force of secretarial nature. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you past, Miss... er..." Seemingly out of steam, he reverted back to being the weedy ineffectual geek. "I didn't catch your name, I'm sorry." "Tao Feymu," she said, through gritted teeth. "Feymu, Feymu," he said, tapping a pencil on the desk. "That rings a bell." He rummaged amongst the paperwork on the desk again, and drew out a calendar planner. "Oh, of course, you're going to see him today anyway, with Dr. Zevel." Suddenly he was the uber-secretary again. "I suggest that the best course of action would be to simply wait until your appointment to talk to the Chancellor. However, I doubt that he will want to talk about Mr. Arrayarli's expulsion." He reverted back to his usual geeky self. "How'd I do?" Gritting her teeth, she said "Very well, considering," and then hit him again before leaving in a huff. * * * * * A few hours later, Treisel put the last box into PackingSpace, picked up the keys, stepped outside the door and closed and locked it, and handed the keys to the warden assigned to watching him. The woman gave a small 'hmph' at him, but didn't leave - she still had to see him off the grounds. The campus was so large that it would have easily taken the three of them half an hour to walk to the main gates. Treisel didn't want to spend that half hour, so, after clearing it with the warden, he cast a Teleport spell to take all three of them there. "Well?" she asked, glaring at him, hands on her hips. Treisel sighed, and stepped over the line that marked the boundary between the University and the town of Zinnonea. There was a brief flicker and sizzle to the air, almost impossible to make out against the general hubbub of Zinnonea all around him. But he saw it. In the context of him getting booted out, there was only one thing it could have been - a Ward spell. They'd actually gone to the extent of using a Ward spell to keep him from specifically entering University grounds. That was it. He was definitely done here at the University, and would never be able to come back. "Alright, come on Waj," he said dejectedly to the demon. "We'd better go." "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIT!!!" came a familiar voice. Treisel turned and stared in shocked surprise as Tao came running up to and through the gates and out of the University and almost crashed into him. "Tao? What are you doing here?" She didn't immediately answer - she was too busy panting, trying to catch her breath. But once she could speak again, the words spilt out in a rush. "Long story. But in short, I found out why I couldn't cast magic - a random magic distortion aura. I convinced Chancellor Hatstring that because nobody here could help me fix it, he should let me leave and look for someone that could." This was a lot to take in at once. Treisel felt overwhelmed by it all. "A magic distortion effect in your aura? It figures, we should have worked that out sooner. But don't throw your life away by coming with me - you could do much better here." Her mouth twisted into an almost-sneer. Treisel looked at her, surprised, he'd never seen her look like that before. "As what?" she asked. "A 'Theoretical Researcher'? Treisel, you *know* I want to be a proper sorcerer. If nobody at the university can fix the distortion effect, then I have to find someone who can. And seeing as you're going I might as well go with you. It'd be too dangerous to go just by myself." He remained standing there, wracked with indecision. "You know I have to get Waj back to Hell, don't you." "Yes." "You know it'll probably be dangerous." "Yes." "If she wants to come, Trei, let her," said the demon. "Just let's get going." He was clearly outvoted. Outmoved, and flanked on both sides. There wasn't much he could do. "Fine," he said grumpily. "You can come with us. I still think - urk," he urked as Tao suddenly hugged him with enough force to crush rock. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" she said. "Thanks for letting me come!" "Yeah, yeah, whatever," he said, carefully extricating himself. "Now let's go." * * * * * But before we leave our trio of mighty, or perhaps just mightily ragtag, heroes as they start to wander away from the gates, let us stay for a brief epilogue and listen to their voices for just a few more moments: "Um, so what next, Treisel?" "God, *I* don't know, Tao. Where the hell do we start looking for Hell?" "Hey, Trei. Which one of those 'hells' was the emphasis, again?" "The first one!" A pause. "Oh, I get it now. Well," the voice continued in a very reasonable tone, "if I knew where to start looking for Hell, I wouldn't be needing you, right? So lead on, Trei." "I know it's not much, Treisel, but I don't know either... Maybe someone here in Zinnonea knows?" "Nah, most humans generally don't." "Then how the hell am I supposed to know!?" "As my Summoner, that's your problem, not mine." "ARGH! This SUCKS!" (To be continued) Author's Comments ------------------- Gah... Over 55KB and 21 pages in MS-Word. There are lots of things things I'd like to say, but I'll try to make this note short. Observant readers will notice that I've already written a couple of stories set in a world called Zinnonth. These are available from these URLs: http://www2.crosswinds.net/~sscougall/cg/stories/offer.html http://www2.crosswinds.net/~sscougall/cg/stories/zin.html Even more observant readers will notice some rather similar ideas from those two creeping into this one. ^_^ Anyway, I had all these other ideas (circa 1994 - 1996) for another story set in the same world, but I never got very far with those. So, this story pulls a lot of those old ideas together into one starter. Future authors can decide if they want to include ideas from the other two stories in this one. That is, if there are future chapters. And last (but certainly not least) thanks must go to Lady Chaos and Jonatan Streith for prereading this starter and spotting my silly mistakes, and helping me improve it to what you see before you now. Thank you both.