Seskip breathed a sigh of relief as the sounds of destruction died out around him, to be replaced by a ringing silence.

     He'd cast a Globe of Invulnerability around himself as he reached the third floor and heard the final collapse beginning above him. The rubble had crashed down through floor after floor, but thankfully it had stopped before reaching him. The ceiling above him was bowing under the weight. He could only guess how much rubble was sitting on it. So long as he did nothing to destabilise the tower, though, there was no reason to suspect that it would collapse further. He was safe so long as he did nothing stupid.

     The taste of dust was thick in his mouth, and when he cast a light spell to see around him he saw that the air was full of it. One question was answered, at least. There was no longer any question of Saturn still being alive in the tower. Either he'd escaped or he was dead. Unfortunately, they might never know his fate. Finding his body in all the rubble would be an impossible task, and if he'd flown away he could be anywhere in the world before Seskip was in any shape to continue the pursuit. Where would he start looking? It was hopeless. Though it galled him to admit it, even to himself, his mission was a failure. He had no option but to find his lost proctors and take them home in defeat.

     First, though, he had to get out of the tower which, he had no doubt, had to be surrounded by Agglemonian proctors by now. Moving out of the room, he saw that most of this level was intact but that the stairwell was choked with rubble. No problem, he could just teleport out. First, though, he needed to replenish his supply of magic. He had to wait while his body absorbed more of the magic force from the rocks and the air around him.

     He might as well get some sleep while he waited, he thought. He took off his robe, therefore, and rolled it up to make a pillow. Then he lay down on the hard stone floor and performed the mental exercise one of his tutors had taught him long, long ago that allowed him to fall instantly into a deep, dreamless sleep.

☆☆☆

     He was awoken by a voice calling his name. He was instantly awake and on his feet, calling the words of defensive spells to the forefront of his mind before he realised someone was trying to reach him with a Farspeaking spell. "Yes?" he snapped irritably, casting his gaze around the room to reassure himself that no further collapse had taken place while he'd been asleep.

     "This is Rin Wellin," said the voice in his head. "I have left the ship and crossed to the ring so that I can talk to you. I regret to inform you that the ring has begun to radiate randomised magic. We think that Salammis set it to leak away its magical charge in case any other Immortal Wizards tried to follow him through."

     Seskip cursed. "How long have we got before it fails?"

     "There is no way to be sure, but I would say it is hours rather than days. You must return immediately or you may be stranded there."

     "No need to panic," said the Head Proctor, though. "If the rings fail before we get back, we can return the same way Saturn intends to, by hibernating through the centuries. Contact Gown and tell him to return to the ship immediately. Then get him on a Farspeaking link to me. I need a situation report from him."

     "Yes, master," said the shae, and the connection was broken.

     Seskip wondered how much sleep he'd gotten. There was no way to tell how much time had passed here in this sealed tomb of a tower, but he sensed that he now had enough magic to teleport. He could now leave the tower, so long as the Teleport spell hadn't changed since he'd last used it. He took his travelling spellbook from one of the pouches in his belt, therefore, opened it and began turning the pages.

     A few minutes later there was another voice in his head. "Master? This is Thomas Gown. I'm back at the ring. Wing Leader Winterwell and his men are crossing back to the ship."

     "Where are Zandar and Bewt?"

     "I'm afraid they've been arrested by the proctors. There was nothing I could do. I don't know where Tol Poldark is."

     "He's here with me." He fingered the small stone shape in his pouch. "I'll try to rescue Zanda and Bewt. Did you have the tower under observation, after we entered?"

     "Yes, master. From all sides."

     "Did you see Saturn leave the tower?"

     "No, master, and it's now surrounded by proctors. No-one could have left without being seen, unless..."

     "Unless he made himself invisible again," finished the Head Proctor. "There's a chance he's dead, but I think he's escaped. Contact the Director and inform him of our situation. I'll get back with my men as soon as I can."

     "C-contact the d-d-d..."

     "He's just a man!" snapped Seskip impatiently. "I'll expect him to be fully informed when I return." He broke the link and returned to his spellbook.

☆☆☆

     Thomas gulped nervously, then pulled himself hand over hand along the rope that connected the ring with the Ship of Space. Once through the airlock he said "He wants me to tell the Director what's happened!"

     "Then do so," said Matthew with an amused grin. "He's probably pulling his hair out by now, wondering what's going on up here."

     Thomas stared, terrified, at the soldier, then activated the Coronet of Farspeaking he was still wearing. "I want to speak to Natan Crowley, Director of the University."

     "Crowley here," said a voice in his head. "Who is this?"

      "T-Thomas Gown, master," stammered the younger wizard. "Aboard the Ship of Space. Seskip Tonn told me to fill you in on the situation."

     "Then do so," snapped the Director. "And about bloody time."

     Trembling with nervous apprehension, Thomas gave a quick summary of the present situation, followed by a rapid rundown on how the situation had come about. He waited anxiously when he reached the end of the account, expecting to receive a torrent of anger and abuse, but instead the Director simply sighed wearily.

     "So there's an immortal Saturn out there somewhere," he said. "centuries old. More powerful than any wizard since the Mage Wars. Just waiting for the right moment to reveal himself to us. Is that an accurate summary of our current predicament?"

     "If he escaped from the collapsing tower," replied Thomas. "If he wasn't killed by an Immortal Wizard. If he found a way to place himself in hibernation. If he survived his long sleep and if he was able to deduce the secret of immortality from the books he stole from the library. That's a lot of ifs. Also, even if he is still alive, I'm convinced he's committed to the Rossem Project. He's not going to set himself up as a wizard King, at least, not until the Rossem Shipbuilders have been dealt with."

     "Saturn is not the problem," said the Director, though. "The secret of immortality is the problem. Thank you for your report."

     The connection was broken and Thomas breathed a huge sigh of relief. "How'd he take it?" asked Matthew.

     "Better than I expected," replied the wizard. "but there was something in his voice. No matter how careful you are, you always send something of your state of mind when you use a Farspeaking spell. Whether you're happy or angry, that sort of thing." He paused, and looked his friend in the eye. "He's scared. He kept his voice calm, kept in control of himself, but he was scared. Really, really scared. Not surprising, really. I've just told him that the greatest horror the world has ever known may be about to erupt again. When Saturn does eventually show up, the Director may have no choice but to simply kneel before him and beg his forgiveness for sending Seskip after him."

     "He'll be that powerful?" asked Matthew, his eyes wide with alarm. "The Director himself, with all the resources of the University behind him..."

     "Would have to kneel before Saturn," repeated Thomas. "Yes, he really would be that powerful. I tell you what, Matt, I'm scared as well. This could change everything. Nothing in the world would be unaffected. I'm not sure what would be worse. That Saturn keeps the secret to himself and reigns supreme, nothing in the world able to stand against him, or that someone else learns the secret as well, stealing it from him perhaps, and a war breaking out between them."

     "A Mage War," said Matthew, while Borlin and Stone watched nervously, only vaguely able to follow the conversation but aware that something terrifying was being discussed.

     "Yes," said Thomas. "A Mage War. The Gods have mercy on us."

     Timothy Birch and Rin Wellin were on the bridge when he arrived, so he had to give the account of the situation all over again. While he was doing so the image of the Ring was still showing in the scrying mirror, and he saw that it was now glowing with an eerie, greenish light. The characteristic sign of magic loss. Hurry up Seskip, he thought. The Agglemonian Empire at the height of its power is a nice place to visit, but it's no place for a wizard from our times to be stuck in.

     "Are there any maps here?" he asked when he'd finished his tale. "Like there were on the Hummingbird?"

     "I believe they are stored behind the scrying mirror," said the shae, getting up to look. "Yes, as I thought."

     Thomas jumped up and began rooting through them.

     "What are you looking for?" asked the cleric.

     "I'm wondering whether the original site of Lexandria University is marked," replied the wizard. "I wanted to have a look at it. Ah, here it is."

     He pulled a map out and spread it out on the table. The area he wanted was almost blank. It had been inside the Shadow until the end of the war and was, therefore, an expanse of barren wasteland. It made it easy to find what he was looking for. He read the co-ordinates aloud to the scrying mirror and the scene it showed instantly changed.