If the contents of the fifth room were terrifying to contemplate, though, the thing that occupied the sixth room was a thousand times more so.

No-one Thomas had spoken to could say for certain what was in there, but one story Thomas had heard from several independent sources was that it contained one single book. A book containing such terrible knowledge that only a handful of the very wisest wizards in the world had the mental stability and strength of will to read it without their minds being permanently warped by it. No-one ever went into that room alone, the stories went. On the thankfully rare occasions that the knowledge it contained was needed, three wizards had to go in together, one to read the appropriate passage and the other two to keep a close eye on him and drag him out the moment he showed any sign of instability. Even these precautions were apparently not always successful, though. One wizard who'd read a single page of the book, it was said, had been found dead in his rooms the next morning, apparently of a heart attack, while another wizard, on arriving back at his rooms, had taken a hot bath and quietly slashed his wrists.

Thomas smiled to himself. He half suspected that most, if not all, of these horror stories had been made up by the senior wizards themselves to discourage interest from their younger colleagues. One day he intended to find out for himself, on the wonderful day when he was considered ready to turn the pages of those dreadful books. That they contained terrible truths that could give a man bad dreams he had no doubt. The things he'd read in the Derronian Pardatano had taught him that the world contained many dark and loathsome secrets. Knowledge that maybe ought to remain lost forever (except to him, of course). But the idea that they could drive a man to such depths of horror and fear that he took his own life seemed improbable to him. What could possibly be that bad?

The fifth room was for the future, though. For now he'd have to be content with the contents of the fourth room. He looked around, glancing at the titles as he tried to choose where to start, and gave a sudden start when he realised for the first time that he was not alone. Over in the corner, sitting in one of the padded chairs and crouched low over the heavy, yellowing book that was lying open on the table in front of him, was a small, elderly man. Shriveled and shrunken by the years and wearing a heavy black cloak that hid all but his knobbly, arthritic hands and the balding top of his head. He looked up as he heard the shuffling of Thomas's feet and the younger wizard opened his mouth to utter an apology, realising that the old man had probably come here for some peace and quiet. Before he could speak, though, he gave a second start. He recognised this old man, or at least he thought he did.

"Excuse me, sir," he ventured hesitantly, "but are you Elmias Pastin?"

"I am indeed," replied the old man, squinting at the newcomer through a pair of thick lensed glasses. "What can I do for you?"

"Er, nothing, I wasn't looking for you or anything. I was just surprised to see you, that's all. You probably don't remember me. My name is Thomas Gown and I used to be one of your apprentices."

"One of my apprentices, eh?" said Elmias in his thin, wheezy voice. Now that Thomas was closer, he could see that his face, hanging in loose folds from his skull, was a tangled mass of broken blood vessels. He looked old, really old, and Thomas reminded himself that he'd been getting on in years back when he'd been one of his teachers, and that had been a quarter of a century before! "Well, young man, I have had many apprentices. Many, many apprentices. What, may I ask, makes you think..." He paused, and his eyes seemed to glaze over as if he was trying to remember something. "Thomas Gown you say. Now that you mention it, the name does seem to... If only I could remember..."

"I graduated twenty five years ago," prompted Thomas. "Back in ninety eight. I cast an invisible servant spell in the fifth year common room to complete my final test. You saw me off when I left on a flying carpet with my friends; a nome and a demi shae."

Elmias shook his head dismissively. "You would have been just one of many. They all run together in my mind. And yet that name, Thomas Gown..." Suddenly his eyes snapped back into focus and he stared at the younger wizard with a strange intensity. "Now I remember! You're one of the young chaps who recovered the Sceptre of Samnos! Is that right?"

"Yes, Sir," replied Thomas in delight, "although there aren't many who remember it was us. Most people these days think it was Resalintas, which isn't fair. He did so many great things himself, and he goes and gets the credit for our greatest achievement as well."

Elmias laughed, a wheezing, cackling laugh that ended in a fit of coughing. "Damn my chest!" he swore. "It's a terrible thing when a man can't even laugh any more. Don't mourn the loss of credit for a great achievement, young man. It gets you a reputation, and reputations can be hard to live up to. They can even get you killed. Be like me and live a quiet, peaceful life. You'll be happier in the long run, believe me."

"A quiet and peaceful life?" cried Thomas in astonishment. "But you're the director of extra-planar studies! You've been to worlds and planes of existence that most people have never heard of, dared unimaginable dangers! The things you must have done! The things you must have seen!" He fell silent, staring in bafflement. Elmias was laughing again; the kind of laugh that tells you that you're the thousandth person to make the same mistake.

"Let me tell you something, young man," said the old wizard, gesturing Thomas to take the chair opposite him. Thomas sat, and Elmias reached across to pat the back of his hand. "Most planes of existence are boring. Boring! There's one place I know that consists of an empty grassy plain stretching to infinity in all directions. No animals, no large plants, no rivers, lakes or mountains. Just grass, and the small kinds of insects and plants that live in grass. Stretching on, flat and empty, for ever. Paradise for a rabbit perhaps, but pretty dull for a human being. Another place just consists of fuzzy pink blobs floating in empty space. Quite pretty the first time you see it, but you soon tire of it. Most places are like that. Boring. Dull. Empty. Oh there are dangerous places, places where you have to keep your wits about you to survive, but they tend to be few and far between and I like to keep away from them. I prefer a quiet life, and now that I'm retired I have all the peace and quiet I want." He looked at Thomas. "So, you used to be one of my students, did you? Well well, fancy that."

"Not only that," replied the younger wizard. "Remember a demi shae girl called Lirenna Daliris and a nome called Geremy Blumintop? You taught them as well, and they were also members of the group that recovered the Sceptre. I don't know where Jerry is now. Off exploring the world I suppose, but Lenny's now my wife."

"My boy!" exclaimed Elmias happily. "Congratulations! Any kids?"

"One, Derrin. Sixteen years old. We brought him here for his education."

"That's wonderful news, my boy! I couldn't be more pleased! This boy of yours, going to be a wizard one day, is he?"

"We hope so. We'll just have to wait and see."

"Indeed. Yes, indeed so. Well, let's hope so. The world needs wizards, my boy. Needs them more today then ever before. Yes indeed. Need more wizards, as many as possible." His voice trailed away and he lapsed into silence, his eyes wandering away to the wall behind Thomas's head.

"You said you were retired," prompted Thomas. "It's unusual for a wizard to live long enough to retire, isn't it? That's quite an accomplishment."

"Hmm? Oh yes, unusual, but like I said I prefer the quiet life. Yes, I retired just after the end of the war. It seemed the best thing to do, on the whole. Best for everyone."

"Why?" asked Thomas, concerned. "What happened?"

"Oh it's a long story," said Elmias with a sigh. "Maybe one day the story can be told, but not yet. Still too many people whose reputations could be damaged. I'm putting it all in my memoirs, though, so the truth will be known one day. Probably find its way into this room, maybe even next door, eh? Heh heh heh!"

Thomas was transfixed with curiosity. He had the idea that the old wizard had forgotten who he was talking to and was saying more than he would have thought wise if he'd been more alert. He was old in mind as well as body, it seemed, and his concentration tended to wander. Maybe he could take shameless advantage of this and draw a bit more out of him. "That was a long time ago," he said therefore. "Most of the senior wizards who had positions in the University back then will be retired by now, like you. There can't be that many still around who would be affected by it."

"Oh it wasn't just the old ones," Elmias replied. "The whole University was involved, even the young chaps like you. And the proctors, of course. They took it especially hard, but that's only fair as they were largely to blame." He gave a wicked chuckle. "I'll be walking down a corridor sometimes and I pass a proctor, and he gets all embarrassed and ashamed and hangs his head until I'm gone. Serve the buggers right, that's what I say." He waggled a bony finger at the younger wizard. "If there's one good thing came out of that scandalous affair, it'll be a long time before they get so full of their own power and importance again. You mark my words. They know their place now, and a good thing too."

He was accused of some crime by the proctors, thought Thomas. Falsely accused. He proved his innocence, though, and did it in such a way that the whole University was shamed. Elmias had agreed to retire to help the wound heal faster. What terrible crime had he been accused of? he wondered. He asked a few more questions in an attempt to tease it out of him, but the older wizard seemed to be waking up a little and was more aware of what he was saying. Thomas learned nothing more, therefore, and soon the conversation had moved on to a new topic.

"There's something going on around here, isn't there?" Thomas said, leaning forward in his chair. "There's a lot of mysterious activity in the research buildings, people refusing to say what they're working on. And they say there're more senior wizards in the valley now than there've been for nearly a century. And all those Beltharan soldiers camped out near the village. What is it, Sir? What's going on?"

"I'm not too sure myself," replied the older wizard. "There's nothing mysterious about the senior wizards, their numbers do go up and down from time to time, but soldiers in the valley? So far as I know, that's unprecedented! It all seemed to begin three or four years ago. They found something up in Rossem and it's got them all running around like frightened rabbits, but what it is I've got no idea."

"Rossem," said Thomas thoughtfully. "I got a job in the research buildings a few weeks ago, helping with something called the Rossem Project. The senior wizard I'm working for, Pondar Walton, is brewing up some kind of alchemical potion for it. I wish I knew what it was all about."

"Let me give you some advice, my boy," said Elmias, now growing serious. "Don't go getting too curious. Young folk like you who go sticking their noses into the affairs of their Elders come to a bad end. Just do your job and do it well. Keep your eyes and ears open and your mouth shut. That's the way to get ahead in this game." He frowned. "I know how you feel, though. A lot of strange things have been going on around here lately, some of them even stranger than having soldiers around." He leaned forward and lowered his voice conspiratorially. "I've spent a large part of my life traveling the planes, and I've gotten a sort of a feel for creatures from other planes of existence. There are creatures from other planes here in the valley, brought here, no doubt, by the senior wizards, but for what purpose?"

He gave a snort of derision. "There was a time when I was the acknowledged authority on extra planar creatures, but these young upstarts think they know it all. They think they don't need me any more. Well, we'll see, we'll see."

He nodded sagely to the younger wizard, who could only stare back in bewilderment, his curiosity flaring up greater than ever before. "I'll do what you said," he said at last. "Work hard, keep my mouth shut, but I'll also be keeping my eyes and ears open. I'll find out what's going on. I'll pick up little clues here and there, and I'll put it all together. I'll find out, I will!"

Elmias chuckled. "Well, when you do, make sure you come here and tell me. It's damned frustrating to be kept in the dark like this. Damned frustrating! Tell you what, I'll see what I can find out and we'll meet to compare notes now and then. Between us we'll crack it. The man who recovered the Sceptre of Samnos and the man who, well, never mind. An unbeatable combination, eh, my boy?"

"Absolutely!" agreed Thomas, and they shook hands over the small table. The man who did what? he wondered. What did he do? What happened all those years ago? That's another mystery to be solved, and I intend to solve it!