“My physical intimacy with Ortolan didn’t demand excessive sacrifices. The old man had long passed both the age limit for capability and desire. But I did my best for people to think otherwise and believe he’d utterly fallen for me. Believe there was nothing he would refuse his gorgeous lover. Believe that I knew his codes, that I had access to his secret books and notes. That he was giving me artefacts and talismans he hadn’t previously revealed to anyone. And that he was teaching me forbidden spells. Including goetia. And if previously the great men and women of Rissberg had disdained me, now they suddenly began to esteem me. I had grown in their eyes. They believed I was doing what they themselves dreamed of. And that I was achieving success.

“Do you know what transhumanism is? What kind of specialisation it is? Radiation speciation? Introgression? No? There’s nothing to be ashamed of. I don’t really either. But everybody thinks I know a great deal. That under the tutelage and auspices of Ortolan I’m conducting research into perfecting the human race. With the lofty goal of refining and improving it. To improve the human condition, to eliminate illness and disability, to banish the ageing process, blah, blah, blah. For that is the goal and task of magic. To follow the path of the great masters: Malaspina, Alzur and Idarran. The masters of hybridisation, mutation and genetic modification.”

Announcing its arrival by meowing, the black cat appeared again. It jumped into the sorcerer’s lap, stretched and purred. Degerlund stroked it rhythmically. The cat purred even louder, extending claws of truly tiger-like proportions.

“You surely know what hybridisation is, for it’s another word for cross-breeding. The process of obtaining cross-breeds, hybrids, bastards—it’s all the same. They actively experiment with that at Rissberg, they’ve produced endless peculiarities, monsters and sports. Some find wide practical applications, like, for example, para-zeugles cleaning municipal dust heaps, para-woodpeckers keeping down tree parasites and mutated gambezis feeding on the larvae of malarial mosquitos. Or vigilosaurs, guard lizards the killing of which you bragged about during the audience. But they consider them trifles, by-products. What really interests them is the hybridisation and mutation of people and humanoids. That is forbidden, but Rissberg disregards prohibitions. And the Chapter turns a blind eye to it. Or, which is more likely, it remains immersed in blissful, dull ignorance.