Robot Adept

“Aye,” the troll said. “Then can I deal with those who kept it, to make it right.”

To Bane it seemed that this was quibbling over a technicality. But Trool was vital to the cause, so he said nothing. He would have to face Tania. The others assumed that he could withstand her, because his love for Agape was true; how could he tell them otherwise?

“Now will I research on breeding,” Trool said. He shuffled from the chamber.

“He will be a while,” Suchevane said. “Come, eat, rest; I will see to the amenities meantime.”

She did so, and their comfort was complete. They no longer had to maintain the pretense of being lovers.

But Bane’s gloom continued. Not only was he uncertain about his emotion, he was now in doubt about his integrity. He and his father had worked out the masquerade, to spy on the plotting of the Adverse Adepts. This had seemed justified—but it was evident that the Red Adept did not consider it so. The more Bane mulled it over, the more it seemed to him that he had allowed his standard of integrity to be governed by that of his enemy, and the less he liked it. Yet had he not spied, they would not have known about the enemy’s marshaling of forces for physical action, or about the plot against him personally. Could it be right to hold to a standard that ensured defeat?

Tormented by the ethical riddle, he went to see Trool. The troll was deep in the Book of Magic, doing the research he had promised. “If I may…”

The troll looked up. “It be possible for dissimilar species to breed, but not easy,” he said. “I be on the details now.”

“That be gratifying, but that were not my concern.”

Trool merely looked at him.

“I came to apologize for putting thee in an awkward position,” Bane said. “I thought what I did to be right, but now I fear it be not. I would make amend, an I knew how.”

Trool nodded. “I be of a species with a little concept o’ right,” he said. “It fell to me to make up for wrongs done by my kind. I did it only by dedicating my life to the right I perceived. Do thou that likewise, and thou hast no further apology to make.”

“I know not whether I can,” Bane said.

Trool closed the book. “The mare?”

“I know not whom I love,” Bane said. “It were Mach who swore the triple Thee to Fleta; I ne’er did to Agape. Not in Phaze, where the splash—”

“The mare loves thee not,” Trool said.

“Aye. She be true to her own. But I—what o’ me?”

“Love be not a thing I understand,” Trool said. “It be yet too new to me. Still, I suspect that love unreturned cannot be true, and must needs be based on other than it seems.”

“But I must face Tania, who will strike at my emotion,” Bane said despairingly. “An my love for Agape not be true, I be vulnerable! Mine inconstancy can doom me—and our side.”

Trool nodded. “I tell thee again, I be no expert in this realm. I thought no woman would care to associate with me, and least of all the loveliest. But it be in my mind that thy doubt of heart be not normal. I met Agape, and if there be one who be the match o’ Fleta, it surely be she.”

“Aye, Agape be more alien than Fleta, and a fine person, and I do love her. I feel great guilt at this doubt, that I know should not exist.”

“Exactly. Do thou allow me then to test thee for a geas.”

“A geas? I have no geas!”

The troll rose and fetched an amulet from a crowded collection on a shelf. “Do thou hold this a moment.”

Bane took it. The small carved charm resembled a wooden flower, intricately carved. But as he held it, it glowed.

“There it be,” Trool said. “There be a geas on thee.”

“But I be near-Adept! How can there be magic on me, and I not know it?”

Trool took back the charm. “I think thou dost know it.”

“A love-geas!” Bane exclaimed. “Only partially effective, because of my own power, but insidious! Enough to—”

“The Adverse Adepts have set a trap for thee when thou dost return to Phaze. Could they not have prepared it before?”

“And when it worked not well enough, they set a worse one!” Bane said. “When I exchanged before, with Agape—”

“Whom they thought would be Fleta,” Trool finished.

“I thought her Fleta!” Bane said. “At first. Then did I learn she was not.”

“So the impact of the spell was blunted, leaving thee with a partial passion of Fleta that thou didst not recognize. But the geas remained there, drawing thee toward her.”

“And mayhap I devised this masquerade, that I might—”

“A geas can be insidious.”

Bane nodded, immensely relieved. “Canst banish it?”

“Aye.” Trool brought another finely Grafted amulet; the troll had a real talent for carving. This one resembled a wooden heart. “Invoke it as thou willst.”

Bane took it. “I invoke thee!”

The amulet flashed brightly. The light encompassed him, and drew in to him, centering on his heart.

“Wouldst take Fleta to bed?” Trool asked.

“Aye, an it be required.”

“Dost love her?”

Bane smiled. “As a person, aye. As a lover, nay. I respect her and cherish her, but I would not seek her to wife.”

“And Agape?”

“I seek her to wife.”

“Then the geas be abated,” Trool said. “Thou canst now face Tania.”