“Ha ha!” laughed Fianosther. “Matters now move in a different direction!”

“By no means!” called Cugel, bringing forth a tube of blue concentrate which he had found among Lucounu's instruments.

Lucounu strove with a sliver of glass to cut the seal on his lips. Cugel projected a waft of blue concentrate and Lucounu gave a great tight-lipped moan of distress. “Drop the glass!” ordered Cugel. “Turn about to the wall.” He threatened Fianosthcr. “You as well!”

With great care he bound the arms of his enemies, then stepping into the great hall possessed himself of the workbook which he had been studying.

“And now — both outside!” he ordered. “Move with alacrity! Events will now proceed to a definite condition!”

He forced the two to walk to a flat area behind the manse, and stood them somewhat apart. “Fianosther, your doom is well-merited. For your deceit, avarice and odious mannerisms I now visit upon you the Spell of Forlorn Encystment!”

Fianosther wailed piteously, and collapsed to his knees. Cugel took no heed. Consulting the work-book, he encompassed the spell; then, pointing and naming Fianosther, he spoke the dreadful syllables.

But Fianosther, rather than sinking into the earth, crouched as before. Cugel hastily consulted the workbook and saw that in error he had transposed a pair of pervulsions, thereby reversing the quality of the spell. Indeed, even as he understood the mistake, to all sides there were small sounds, and previous victims across the eons were now erupted from a depth of forty-five miles, and discharged upon the surface. Here they lay, blinking in glazed astonishment; though a few lay rigid, too sluggish to react. Their garments had fallen to dust, though the more recently encysted still wore a rag or two. Presently all but the most dazed and rigid made tentative motions, feeling the air, groping at the sky, marveling at the sun.

Cugel uttered a harsh laugh. “I seem to have performed incorrectly. But no matter. I shall not do so a second time. Lucounu, your penalty shall be commensurate with your offense, no more, no less! You flung me willy-nilly to the northern wastes, to a land where the sun slants low across the south. I shall do the same for you. You inflicted me with Firx; I will inflict you with Fianosther. Together you may plod the tundras, penetrate the Great Erm, win past the Mountains of Magnatz. Do not plead; put forward no excuses: in this case I am obdurate. Stand quietly unless you-wish a further infliction of blue ruin!”

So now Cugel applied himself to the Agency of Far Despatch, and established the activating sounds carefully within his mind. “Prepare yourselves,” he called, “and farewell!”

With that he sang forth the spell, hesitating at only one pervulsion where uncertainty overcame him. But all was well. From on high carne a thud and a guttural outcry, as a coursing demon was halted in mid-flight.

“Appear, appear!” called Cugel. “The destination is as before: to the shore of the northern sea, where the cargo must be delivered alive and secure! Appear! Seize the designated persons and carry them in accordance with the command!”