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found had been compelling and terrifying enough to drive him to that desperate condition. I have
discussed mis with others whom I knew or encountered on my journey here, and if anything their
ignorance on the subject exceeds my own.
 Only one, who had had some minor dealings with matters sorceral, suggested that I seek you out. This I
have done because this dead soldier s tale has become something of an obsession with me, and I desire
deeply to understand it. Also, it was in a sense all that this unfortunate fox had to bequeath, the only other
thing of value left in his possession being his oft-used sword.
 Which you have with you? Jon-Tom inquired.
The sloth looked away.  Uh, no. I hocked it. I am after all a merchant, and I have to live.
 This thing he encountered? said Qothahump impatiently.
Gragelouth turned gratefully to the wizard.  He called it  The Grand Veritable. 
Over the years Duncan had seen the wizard Clothahump deal with much that was marvelous and
inexplicable, from conjuring up entire buildings to transmuting gold into lead (the latter not being a spell
that was overmuch in demand, but one which the wizard often performed for practice). In all that time he
had never seen the turtle react as he did at that moment.
Clothahump jerked backward so sharply that it snapped the minor retention spell that held his heavy
glasses on his beak. With a grunt he picked them off the floor and carefully set them back in place. As for
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Jon-Tom, he could only look on in bewilderment.
When he had fully recovered, the wizard spoke slowly and with great certitude.  There is no such thing
as the Grand Veritable. It s nothing more than a widespread rumor among those of us in the Profession.
An old rumor, but a rumor nonetheless. It does not exist. Some wish that it did, but wishing and reality
are infrequent companions.
 I know I never heard of it, Jon-Tom added.
Clothahump squinted at him.  You would not, nor is it something you d be likely to encounter in your
spellsinging. It is not a subject to spark casual conversation.
Gragelouth seemed hesitant to comment, perhaps a bit taken aback by the vehemence of the great
wizard s reaction.  I do not know whether it exists or not. I only repeat to you the tale of the dying
mercenary. Real or not, it cost him his life.
 It s not unknown for individuals weakened by exposure and its consequences to suffer from delusions,
Jon-Tom pointed out.
The sloth favored the spellsinger with his inherently mournful expression and perpetually sad eyes.  I may
be ignorant in matters thaumaturgical, sir, but I flatter myself that I am a good judge of people. It is a
consequence of being a successful trader. Nor have I suffered the companionship, however brief, of
many on the verge of death. That confessed, I am convinced those who are about to depart this plane of
existence have no reason to lie to a stranger.
Jon-Tom waved off the rationalization.  Okay, so this Juh Phit believed he d encountered something he
called the Grand Veritable. That doesn t mean he actually did so.
 I am of course in no position to dispute that. The merchant s voice was as soft as his pelt.
 Even people of good intentions sometimes repeat falsehoods so often they come to think of mem as
truths, Jon-Tom added.  Real estate brokers, for example.
 I can only say that I received the dying testament of this soldier Juh Phit, and that I believe in what he
said.
 Something so dangerous, so insidious, could not exist, Clothahump was mumbling.  When I think of
the damage it could cause if it did, the havoc it could wreak, I shudder inside my shell. He leaned back
in the chair, the willow springs creaking beneath his weight.
 Just what exactly is this rumor, anyway? Jon-Tom wanted to know. Out in the hallway Buncan listened
motionless, hardly daring to breathe.
 Like all truly great dangers it is at once simple and complex, Clothahump was moved to explain.  To
adequately analyze it would require its use, a proposition fiendishly designed to ensnare any who would
attempt it. Its attractions would by definition be simultaneously irresistible and invariably fatal. He took a
deep breath.  The Grand Veritable, lad, is a notion best avoided by all sensible-thinking folk. Forget
about it. Pretend you never heard of it In the hands of even the most clever, careful, and well-meaning of
individuals, it could destroy entire communities, up to and including civilization as we know it.
 Which is why it cannot exist. The mere concept is too terrifying to contemplate. As he delivered this
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warning the lights inside the tree dimmed until it was black in the hallway and downright murky in the
study.
The reduced illumination did not trouble Mulwit, who came flapping into the room through the portal on
the side opposite Buncan.
 I didn t call for you, Clothahump admonished the famulus.
Mulwit perched on the back of an empty chair.  Youuu sounded exercised, Master. I thought perhaps
youuu might need some assistance.
 Your concern is praiseworthy but misplaced. The turtle harmmphed.  As long as you re here you
might as well hang around. He smiled as much as his inflexible beak allowed.  That was an old joke
between your predecessor and me. He squinted at the glowbulbs.  Here, this won t do. A quick,
arcane sentence restored the study to its previous brightness.
Buncan knew he was pushing his luck by staying. If not Clothahump or his father, the quick-eyed,
sharp-eared Mulwit was sure to spot him soon. That would lead to accusatory questions he would be
unable to satisfactorily answer. But fascination held him in the hallway.
The Grand Veritable, the merchant Gragelouth had called it. Reality or delusion, it had certainly
provoked Clothahump. What could be formidable enough to cause the great wizard to adamantly refuse
to acknowledge so much as its possible existence? What could frighten the all-powerful Clothahump that
badly?
 The soldier Juh Phit spoke of it in more efficacious terms. Gragelouth dug at a furry ear.
 How like a mercenary, Clothahump murmured.
 He said that possession could make one wealthy beyond imagination. That any desire could be fulfilled
if one but learned how to use the Veritabletproperly.
 The true horrors always bewitch, said Clothahump.  The Grand Veritable does not exist, and if it
does, it is best left alone. He stared evenly at his nocturnal visitor.  The fate of your Juh Phit should be
proof enough of that. Continue to pursue this rumor and you will surely meet a similar end. He turned
abruptly on Jon-Tom, jabbing a finger in his direction.
 As for you, associate, I know how your mind works. Put aside all such thoughts. Besides, your mate
would cut you off at the knees if you proposed anything.
 Wasn t going to, Jon-Tom mumbled.
 We have ample work to keep us busy, and I need you here. Even if I did not, I would do everything in
my power to stop you from pursuing this dangerous rumor. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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