The chamber quieted down and Tragius resumed speaking. “I said that Malefactos learned more about the enemy than we’d dared hope, and now I will tell it all, after reminding you all that you are under the Oath of Lexandros.” He cast an eye around the chamber to see that they understood. He might be impeached, he might be put to death, but so long as no word of this leaked out and reached the enemy, the priests of Samnos might still be able to go ahead on their own. How much hope they would have without the support of University raks was problematic, but at least they’d still be able to try.

     He then told them everything that Malefactos had told him, putting exactly the same emphasis on all the bad news as the rak had. If it affected them the same way it had affected him, then maybe they’d be stirred into drastic action and agree to a changing of the rules. And indeed there was a good deal of anxious shuffling and murmuring among the wizards as he spoke, and when he happened to glance at Elmias he saw that his face was a mask of sheer terror.

     “How sure are you that everything he told you was the truth?” asked Justarian as Tragius paused to sip from a glass of water handed to him by an attendant.

     “He was speaking under oath. An oath sworn in the name of the Gods. He was not lying.”

     “So are you saying there’s no hope?” said the Director, pale and trembling. “Is your solution that we all turn ourselves into raks and flee into another plane of existence?”

     “Not at all,” replied Tragius. “There is hope. I haven't told you everything that Malefactos told me. He discovered a weakness in their defences. A weakness that we can exploit if we only have the courage and the determination to do so.”

     He then told them about the Shadowbeast and the Puncturium; the rupture in the fabric of reality through which the Shadowlord’s power was spilling into their world. “So you see,” he finished triumphantly. “If the Shadowbeast can be slain, the Shadow will dissipate and a team of living wizards will be able to enter Arnor itself and dismantle the Puncturium. The flow of the Shadowlord’s power will be cut off, and all the Shadowarmies will break apart into chaos. The threat to all civilization will be ended. You can see the problem, though. That first team of wizards will have to enter Arnor while the Shadow is still present, and no living creature can do that. Only the undead may enter the very heart of the Shadow. That is why they must first transform themselves into raks.”

     The Director's mouth opened and closed as if he had no control over it. His eyes were staring in horror as if the Shadowlord himself had appeared in the room. “And then what?” he managed to croak out when his throat finally loosened. “We’ll be left with a crowd of University raks running loose in the world! How long do you think it will be before they lose their humanity, as all raks inevitably do, and turn into monsters with all the teachings of the University at their disposal?”

     Now it was Tragius’s turn to stare in disbelief. “You cannot compare a few rogue raks with the threat posed by the Shadow!” he exploded. “The Shadow threatens the whole world! All civilization! If the raks turn into monsters after they’ve helped defeat the greatest threat our world has ever faced, then I still call it a good bargain.”

     “A good bargain! You know the power of raks better than anyone! How powerful and terrible they can be! A good bargain?"

     “You're right, I've faced a few raks in my time,” agreed Tragius. “Not least of which Malefactos himself, so I know what I’m talking about. Believe me, I wouldn't ask such a thing if it weren't for the threat posed by the Shadow. Have a look at some of the countries overrun by the Shadowarmies. Turn your crystal ball on Callinia, Galla, Amanopple, Brost, Fannaria...”

     The Director leapt from his seat, aiming the Staff of Lexandros, and the Head Proctor had to jump in to stop him blasting Tragius into a pile of smouldering ashes. He came to his senses, however, and sat back down, running a trembling hand across his feverish brow. “Fortunately, nothing will come of this insane idea,” he said, his voice calm once more. “No-one is going to second such patent madness, such rabid irresponsibility...”

     Adantus rose to his feet and walked across the floor to stand beside Tragius. “I second the motion,” he said, looking the Director straight in the eye. “I support the motion for a change in the University rules regarding rak transformation.”

     A look of shock and betrayal flashed across the Director’s face. “You, Adantus?” he gasped. “But you’re one of the most serious, level headed people I know!”

     “I also support the motion,” said a third wizard, also rising and joining the first two. It was Phileus Garno, one of Adantus’s colleagues in the research buildings.

     “I too,” added a fourth. Barchil Bloodhand. A retired warrior wizard with a formidable reputation. “And I,” said a fifth. Aerethil Moonglow. An ageing enchantress who, in her youth, had had the Kings of half a dozen small kingdoms throwing themselves at her feet.

     Justarian now looked beyond all shock and surprise. A placid expression was spreading across his face as if the magnitude of the events unfolding was too great for his mind to grasp. He sat in silence, as if waiting for the entire chamber to rise up against him.

     In the event, though, there were no others. Just those five. But what a five! Every one of them was a legend in the University, with a list of achievements long enough to fill several volumes. Each one of them renowned for their wisdom, for their intelligence and clear thinking. Each of them major players in University politics whose ideas and advice were eagerly sought for and listened to every time a major decision had to be made.

     “What is this?” demanded the Director, coming back to his senses with a shake of his head as if someone had thrown a bucket of water in his face. “A conspiracy?”

     “No,” replied Aerethil calmly and patiently. “Ordinarily, we would be as horrified and outraged by the idea as you, but desperate measures have to be taken if we are to avoid total disaster.”

     “We don’t ask for a permanent change in the rules,” added Phileus. “Only for an exception to be made one time only. The rules relaxed long enough for a few of us to undergo rak transformation, and then restored so as to forbid any attempt by anyone else later on.”

     “No!” cried the Director with utter finality. “No, no and no again! This madness has gone on long enough! This Assembly is dissolved!”

     The Master of Ceremonies leaned across and whispered in his ear. “You can’t,” he said. “A motion has been proposed and seconded. It has to be voted on.”

     “Voted on!” the Director almost screamed. “This insanity voted on?”

     “It’s in the rules,” agreed the Head Proctor with a sympathetic shrug.

     “All right, we’ll vote on it. Get this madness over and done so we can forget about it and get back to sanity.” He rose to his feet, stared venomously at the five wizards standing before him, and addressed the chamber. “A Motion has been proposed and seconded, that one of our most important laws, a law that exists to protect not only ourselves but the rest of the world, be revoked in order to allow an experiment so dangerous that it numbs the mind. I have no doubt that you will dismiss this madness with the horror and repugnance it deserves.”

     He then flopped back into his seat and Tragius stepped forward to give an answering summation, as the rules permitted. “My friends, fellow wizards,” he said. “Our world is threatened by an evil greater and more powerful than anything it has ever faced before. Belthar and Fu Nang, the two mightiest human nations on Tharia, are unable to contain it. Even the Sceptre of Samnos is only delaying the inevitable. If things continue as they are going, the evil will creep onwards, swallowing nation after nation, until the whole world has been consumed. All life will come to an end and Tharia will become an undead world.”

     There was some uncomfortable shuffling and whispering among the assembled wizards. Many of them knew only too well the truth of his words.

     “There is still hope, however," Tragius continued. "A way exists whereby the enemy can still be defeated, but only if we act swiftly and have the courage to do what must be done. I know you will reach the right decision. The fate of the world depends on you.”

     “We will now vote on the motion,” said the Director, rising again. “All those who support the motion will stand. The rest, remain seated.”

     “If I may say one more thing before the vote,” said Aerethil, “I would like to call for a recess. My fellow wizards are confused and need more time to turn the matter over in their minds. Would you delay the vote until tomorrow?”

     “No,” replied the Director, smiling gladly that this was one area in which the rules permitted him to use his own judgement. “We will have the vote now. This instant. All those who support the motion, stand now.”

     A rustle of activity and indecision swept the chamber as the wizards wrestled with opposing emotions. The trouble was that, whereas the Shadow was a comparatively recent phenomenon, having first appeared only a hundred years before, raks were an ancient evil, as old as wizardry itself, and had left a deep impression on the collective subconscious of all wizards everywhere. There wasn’t a wizard anywhere in the world who didn’t shudder with horror at the very mention of the word, and the simple knowledge that undead wizards existed drove some wizards to devote their entire lives to their destruction. No matter how much they might realise, on the intellectual level, the necessity of such a drastic move, therefore, the emotional barriers were almost impossible to overcome.

     Tragius watched, almost trembling with anxiety, as wizards searched each others faces, trying to read their expressions, and then glanced nervously at the Proctors as they kept a firm eye on all those wavering the most strongly. Assembly Privilege meant that no-one could be held accountable for an opinion expressed during an Assembly, but the Proctors would nevertheless be taking careful note of anyone who voted the wrong way and the wizards knew it. Tragius felt a rising anger as he saw one wizard after another leaning forward in his seat but then catching a Proctor’s eye and settling back.

     There was nothing he could do about it, though. The fate of the world may well be being decided right now, in this room, he thought with clenched fists and gritted teeth, and those fools are deliberately stacking the dice against us. They’ve got no idea what they’re doing!

     To give the Director credit, he allowed the wizards a full five minutes to make up their minds, but at the end of it not a single one of them was standing. Some of them looked ashamed and guilty, keeping their eyes firmly on their feet, and Tragius could easily imagine what they were thinking. I’d like to vote for you. Lots of us would, but not enough of us to win. All we’d be doing is attracting attention to ourselves, for later retribution from the Proctors. I’m sorry. If I thought we could win I’d be right behind you.

     Fool! thought Tragius in frantic desperation. If you’d all stood, maybe we would have won!

     Then someone did stand. The Director. “I don’t think we need to count the vote,” he said with a triumphant smile. “The motion is defeated. I hereby declare this Assembly dissolved.”

     He then walked towards the exit, and the wizards rose from their seats to follow him, some mumbling softly to themselves but most silent. A few glanced at Tragius and the other petitioners, then looked hurriedly away.

     “Now what?” asked Barchil, his face reddening with frustrated fury. “What do we do now?”

     “We’ll think of something,” replied Tragius, trying hard to remain calm. “We’ll talk to them, persuade them...”

     “The only people you’ll be talking to are the guards of the magic proof cells,” said the Head Proctor, however, coming forward to face them. Barchil went for his wand, but then dropped his hand as he realised that the anti-magic field was still operating. The Head Proctor raised the Staff of Lexandros. “You’re all under arrest."

     "But we have Assembly Privilege!" cried Alustra. "You can't persecute us for..."

     "You are under arrest for wilfully failing to prevent the rak transformation of the wizard Malefactos," said the Head Proctor, grimacing with distaste. "For concealing the fact of his transformation from the University authorities. For aiding and abetting the escape of Malefactos from University justice and conspiracy to undergo rak transformation yourselves.”

     Phileus turned to run, but they were surrounded by a dozen Proctors, each of whom was not only a powerful wizard in his own right but also large and powerfully muscled; easily capable of overpowering four old men and one old woman by sheer brute force. The five petitioners knew there was no escape, therefore, and could only stand in mute horror as the proctors reached into their robes and produced handcuffs impregnated with anti-magic spells.