from the newsperson’s.
“Corgy, today you will talk to Hannagh, the Second Guard of the Cup. The Guards are concerned about your case, the Supreme One has heard of it and ordered a thorough investigation.”
“But, Teacher, I have explained everything,” Corgy’s voice trembled, betraying her fear.
“If you are not to blame, you’ve got nothing to fear. Talk to Hannagh,” the voice of the one Corgy was calling “Teacher’ sounded insinuating.
The robed figure disappeared and was replaced by a three-dimensional picture of a man seated on a tall carved chair. The angle was thus that it looked as if Jean and all of her room were at his feet. He was wearing a dark red velvet waistcoat with golden embroidery and matching trousers tucked into tall leather cuffed boots. The white lace cuffs and collar contrasted with the tan face and hands. The face itself, framed by long blond curls, was quite handsome, but the dark, burning and piercing eyes inspired a fear that amounted almost to panic.
Corgy hastily averted her eyes and bowed low. Hannagh – that was apparently him – leaned forward and looked at her for some time. Then he leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs and said in a voice quite pleasant and not scary at all:
“Corgy, you were honored with supreme trust: you were granted a higher position and presented with a personal viamulator. How did you, a Second-Degree Adept, manage to lose it?”
“My lord, I followed the instructions exactly. Evidently, there was some mistake in your – our – estimators’ calculations. And, may I add, I have the whole situation under control, and will soon have the viamulator.”
“There could have been no mistake. If you are telling the truth, then the whole story seems rather strange, I’d say, suspiciously strange. I will need to conduct a thorough investigation.”
“My lord, do you suspect somebody’s interference?”
“Quite right. Who got the grumba? What happened to him?”
“Dead. Cooked and eaten. He was taken by a woman who lives in our building. I know her well. An ordinary woman. A children’s books illustrator. Nothing outstanding, except perhaps her looks.”
“Family?” asked Hannagh.
“Has a husband, who is a pilot, and a daughter, Allie, who’s ten,” Corgy fell silent for a few seconds, thinking. “No, an ordinary family, nothing interesting for us. I’d have noticed if there was anything.”
“OK, let’s leave them for now. Think about everything that happened that morning. There must have been something unusual, some little thing that you overlooked.”
Hannagh bored his burning eyes into Corgy. She looked away again, unable to bear it. Then she was struck by a memory: the flash of sunlight. How could she have forgotten? Just like she did now, she had to look away, blinded momentarily by the flash of light and balance with her arms spread out not to end up in an icy ditch. Then it took a few moments to yell at the boy who was running away with a little mirror in his hand. As a result, she was late getting to the market, and the grumba with the viamulator went to the wrong person.
Corgy told Hannagh about all of the circumstances of her trip to the market.
“What did the boy look like? Describe him,” Hannagh was instantly alert.
But she could tell him nothing specific, just that the boy looked ten or twelve.
Hannagh was quiet for some time, deep in thought and his burning eyes dimmed. Then he continued calmly:
“All right. Tell me more.”
“Well, the grumba got in Irene the artist’s hands. And they decided to keep it in the bathtub and feed it. They thought it was a regular fish.”
Hannagh raised his eyebrows:
“Keep the grumba in the bathtub? How long did they keep him there?”
“Not long. There was no time for a real transformation, but he did manage to cause some trouble. Anyway, two days ago he was cooked.”
“What about the viamulator? They found it?” Hannagh’s question sounded like a statement.
“Yes,” Corgy lowered her eyes. “I saw Alex, the pilot, yesterday. So I questioned him carefully. He said yes, he hadn’t seen it himself, but his wife and daughter had found a trinket in the fish’s belly. So, for them it’s just a trinket.”
“Are you sure that they won’t guess what it is or turn it on accidentally?”
“They won’t have the time,” Corgy’s voice sounded subtly triumphant. “I got all of them. I was able to put a spell on the grumba, and now, having eaten him, they are all under the spell now.”
“What kind of spell did you use?”
Corgy was apparently expecting this question. She straightened up, and her lips spread in a triumphant smile.
“Oh, this is an entirely new and very exquisite kind of magic,” she said proudly.
Lemonade pricked his ears and leaned forward.
“I affected the speed of electical impulses spreading along the nerve fibres. It is a known fact that human brain controls every function of the body with these impulses. So, I made the speed of these impulses gradually and inevitably slow down, and in nine days it will go down to zero.”
“And they’ll die?”
Lemonade started at Hannagh’s words.
“Oh no. Not at all. What do we, I mean, you need dead bodies for? And these are, I assure you, high-quality bodies, young and beautiful. In nine days they’ll turn into dolls, motionless live dolls. If now it takes them three hours to take one step, in nine days they will freeze completely. And then we can easily take them to Galfar and separate the ‘aenous’ from the shell. And I will get the viamulator. We kill two birds with one stone this way.”
Corgy finished speaking and looked at Hannagh triumphantly. He was staring vacantly into space, leaning his chin on his crossed fingers. His mouth was twisted in a slight grin. He seemed to have missed everything that had been said. Corgy was waiting, her triumphant look slowly replaced by a grimace of disappointment.
“Very well!” Hannagh’s unexpectedly loud exclamation startled Corgy. “I like it. But, is there any guarantee that no one would break the spell? I have heard that there are people even on Earth who are able to manipulate subtle energies.”
“You are talking about so-called mediums. You don’t need to worry about them, they are not powerful enough for that kind of magic. I assure you, my lord, that no one here on Earth can break the spell, and in nine days it will be impossible, I beg your pardon, even for a Guard of the Cup to do.” Corgy bowed her head again.
“Well, in that case check the old ‘window’ today. We will do the transfer through it.”
“But it has long been closed. After several accidents the whole complex was closed down. It is sealed now.”
“I said,
