"Alas, my young friend, I have not yet been able to find additional literature for you!"

The librarian's voice was full of genuine regret, and Tim had no choice but to reassure him with the statement that it was all right, it would be found later, and now it's about something else entirely.

"Khalid-amga, I'm very interested in what the clones who replace us for the duration of our studies are like. The Principal mentioned them when we arrived, but he didn't give us any details. It would have taken a lot of magic to create them, wouldn't it?"

"Oh, of course!" the librarian cheered up at once. "And because you were not the only one concerned with this question, there were several pamphlets published at one time under the title: 'The Clones: Our Faithful Friends and Dependable Helpers'. You will find everything there about them!"

"Thank you very much! But I also want to ask about the museum: when will it be open? My friends and I would love to see the rarities here!"

"Isn't it open yet?" the old man wondered. "Sir Pulsok seemed to have said a year or two ago that everything was all right and the fence was about to be pulled down. There must have been complications."

"But what happened there, anyway?"

"Strange phenomena seemed to happen there, and even one of the students disappeared. And since the source of the anomaly couldn't be found, to avoid other accidents they decided to brick up the door there."

"That's weird. I thought the teachers here could solve any problem related to sorcery."

"Alas, none of us is perfect, and some charades can take decades to solve! And it immediately reminds me of Great Master Gleuot, who, not long before his death, sealed the entrance to his private office with a very complexly configured magical seal. It could only be broken on a certain day of the month, and only with the help of magic that bordered on Light and Dark at the same time. Furthermore, the person who ventured to do so must be dressed in the right color clothes. The heirs who had come into possession of the treasure, - the Great Master was by no means poor! - had a lot of trouble figuring out how to get in. They had no trouble finding the right color, for the deceased loved to wear a purple gown. Finding the right spell was more difficult - who would have thought that the Great Master meant the Rainbow? The day was determined at random, and only later it turned out that it was the day that Gleuot had graduated from Duillond Academy. Do you see how difficult it can be to deal with magic you don't know at all?"

"Why didn't they try to open the door directly, by, so to speak, brute physical force?"

"You can't do that under any circumstances! If the seal had been activated, the whole house could blow up, burying all its inhabitants under the rubble. Or all living things around could be poisoned. Or the contents of the office might disappear in an unknown direction. That was why no one wanted to take the risk. Usually such seals are broken by experienced sorcerers, but there were none of them nearby at that moment, they had to invite one in from the outside. And all the same, it was a lot of trouble."

"It makes sense: what would magic be worth if any newcomer could undo its effects? It's possible that one of the exhibits was enchanted with something very unhealthy, which is why access had to be blocked. But then why was it there at all? If I were a museum curator, I'd never have put something like that for all to see. Just as a zookeeper would never take in an animal that could break the fence and attack visitors. Isn't even the Principal capable of putting the place in order? After all, to take that position, he must be a strong enough wizard, mustn't he?"

"Oh yes, of course!" After a moment's hesitation, the librarian readily agreed.

"What kind of magic does he specialize in?"

This time the pause lasted much longer. Khalid-amga's confusion was reminiscent of a computer freeze - when the processor is unable to process the information received and starts to run it in circles, ignoring the rest of the action.

"The Principal is equally proficient in the basics of all areas of sorcery," the solution was finally found.

Tim didn't question his words - maybe it was true. Although it was clear that the old man simply did not know the answer, he was too shy to admit it. If it were Tim, he would also try to get out of it, just to keep his face clean in front of the boy. Therefore he refrained from further questioning, and turned the conversation in a different direction.

"Last time you mentioned worlds that are not magical, but their representatives are capable of mastering magic and are therefore invited to the school. But then what is the difference between magical and non-magical worlds? Or am I missing something?"

"Well, if none of the teachers have discussed this with you, I will try to do so. How do you think magic comes into the world? In the beginning, life appears on a planet with the right conditions, then - sentient beings capable of dreaming and fantasy. It is the ability to believe in a miracle that attracts streams of magical energy, enabling enchantment. And finally, the concentration of mana reaches a level when miracles happen on their own, without anyone's intervention (just like in a fairy tale, Tim thought). The lycoses and gorgons worlds just haven't reached that stage yet, but sooner or later they will become magical."

"Here," Tim pointed to the books he'd taken last time and now brought back, "it was said that magic once ruled my world, too. But then something inexplicable happened, and the wizards lost their power. And now we have no wizards who can make it rain on a clear, sunny day, or bring a dying man back to life with a wave of their wands. In the travel notes of Maelg, who visited Earth several times, there was mention of the Betsagoni's curse. Can you tell me what it is?"

"I only remember part of it verbatim," Khalid-amga frowned. "I believe it went something like this: '...they shall ride in iron wagons, blowing smoke; steel birds shall fly in the sky, and they shall make weapons, a single shot from which shall burn a city to the ground; the earth and water and air shall be poisoned, and cause much suffering; and then there shall be creatures not made of flesh...'. The meaning of the curse is that if magic were to leave the world, sooner or later its inhabitants would be held captive by mechanisms marvelous and monstrous at the same time. Has your world suffered the same fate?"

The door at the back opened silently, letting two people in, but Tim didn't notice, too caught up in the conversation.

"Looks like it. At any rate, we have a lot of different mechanisms. But why did magic suddenly leave our world?"

"It's possible if its inhabitants stop believing in miracles, refuse to learn magic, and expel wizards from their society. Yes, yes, I don't argue, it's hard to believe that, but the worlds from which magic has left do exist!"

The fact that today's earthlings don't really believe in miracles is undeniable; only very young children (and not all of them) can be carried away by fairy tales. But that is rather a consequence, as is the Industrial Revolution, which has replaced the age of magic. The reason was something else, because, according to Maelg, no one on Earth had given up sorcery, and it continued to be taught, though less and less successfully.

"And then how do we fight it? Or is there nothing we can do about it?"

"Perhaps there are remedies," Khalid-amga frowned again. "I'll have to look in the books on magic theory. Oh, I think we have more visitors!"

Tim turned around to find Gook-Luk and Patpako behind him.

"Sorry, we didn't mean to interrupt your conversation," Patpako smiled embarrassedly. "You were discussing very interesting things!"

"Has your world really lost its magic?" unlike his companion Gook-Luk felt no embarrassment. "It's cool! But since you're here, all is not lost!"

"Maybe," Tim agreed dryly and hurried toward the library exit.

He was nearly knocked off his feet on the way up the stairs - a whole crowd of classmates swept past, brushing aside questions about where they were in such a hurry. Only Iwiel took pity and stopped.

"Don't you know? Faelinn has managed to assemble all the pieces of his mosaic! And now he wants to demonstrate what happens when they are put together! How could you miss it!?"

Indeed, none of them had yet been lucky enough to find a complete collection of fragments of any mosaic. Tim himself had three pieces with a picture of the sea, two more with delicate translucent wings (a butterfly or a dragonfly, maybe a fairy - who knows, until the center fragments are found!) and two more with drawings that could not be uniquely identified - one had nothing but a zigzag line, the other only a pink background, slightly darker on one of the edges. In general, until other fragments are found, it's impossible to understand which picture to collect. It is on Earth that puzzle packages are provided with clues, but here you have to guess. But there is a chance to get a very real prize, not just moral satisfaction!

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A group of their schoolmates had set up near the exit of the school, right on the marble slabs of the road leading to the fountain. Faelinn, who was in the center of it, with a sour look observed its gradual increase, as if he feared someone might try to take his prize. He would probably have preferred to fold the mosaic without any witnesses, but Ruum-Fib, who had found the last fragment, refused to trade it for anything. But he promised to give it away for nothing, only if Faelinn showed what would come of it, to anyone who would wish to do so. The elf had to agree - it could take an unknown amount of time to find another piece just like it.

Tim's friends were already here (they were probably looking for him, but hadn't thought to look in the library, and he hadn't said where he was going), but when they saw that Tim had come with Iwiel, they didn't approach him. The elf girl was in no hurry to switch her attention to someone else, and Tim had no good reason to leave her.

A few more classmates arrived after them, the last to arrive were Gook-Luk and Patpako. The latter had managed to get himself a copy of 'Clones' and was trying to read it as he went along, not paying much attention to the chatter of his companion. Gook-Luk was not particularly upset about this, although, from Tim's point of view, she would have been better served by a peirot rather than a yusme as a companion. But that was up to them, maybe she liked to be listened to without being interrupted.

"Is anyone else coming?" Faelinn asked sufferingly, after waiting a little longer.

"No, go ahead and start!" there was an answer.

"Well, there you go then!" Ruum-Fib held out his piece of the mosaic to the elf. The others were already stacked together on a flat surface. Carefully, taking care not to disturb the connection, Faelinn put the missing piece to them.

For five seconds nothing happened, and Tim thought they were being played a joke. But then the edges of the fragments flashed crimson and joined together. And in a second the resulting picture scattered dust and in its place a crystal appeared - a gray octahedron.

"Is that all?" Faelinn couldn't hide his disappointment.

"And you were counting on the Archmage's wand?" Taeron laughed. "If you don't want it, I'll take it. Just in time for tomorrow's Twilight magic class."

"No, that's mine!" Faelinn hurriedly grabbed the prize and slipped it into the pocket of his uniform.

"Don't worry, you'll have better luck next time!" Namitil tried to reassure him.

"When else will it be..."

"Build another collection in the meantime, what's the problem?"

"I wonder, if you build one just like it, what are the chances of getting the same prize?" Patpako asked.

"You're really something. Let's test it on you!"

"It seems to me that the more complicated the construction, the more valuable the thing will be. If it's only six or eight pieces, it won't be very interesting. You need to build a mosaic of twenty or even thirty pieces!"

"You'd never finish it in time to study," Yantau chilled his ardor.

"What should we do then?"

"We need to exchange information regularly. It will be much faster if we work together," Naar-Tam suggested.

"Then how shall we divide the prize?" Yantau was practical again. "Shall we chop it into several pieces?"

"That won't do either. But there must be a way out of this?"

A discussion ensued. Some suggested casting lots, others suggested that whoever wished to keep the prize should buy back the missing pieces from the others. The arguments of the latter were eventually found to be more fair, and the proposal to get together regularly and see who had what fragments was accepted without objection.

Having reached a consensus, the people calmed down and began to scatter.

"Oh, where's my book?" Patpako woke up.

"What kind of book did you have?" Eliavin asked.

"I can't remember the title, something about clones."

"It's your book!" Fingor pointed to Tim, glancing around.

Next time, not in front of witnesses, I'll have to explain to him that pointing fingers at anyone is indecent, Tim thought.

"That's my book."

"Well, it can't be yours if it has the word 'clones' in the title!"

"He couldn't have taken someone else's book without asking permission!" Gmuruk suddenly interceded for Tim.

"How would you know, orc?"

Luckily, the brewing conflict was dampened down by Patpako's claim that they had both been in the library and that they had each taken a copy.

"Well, you should have said so. So you lost it on the way!"

"No, I had it with me when I got here."

After all the circumstances had been cleared up, the book was found. As it turned out, Patpako had absent-mindedly put it on one of the branches of the nearest bush. That sagged under the weight of the book, and the 'Clones' landed in the middle of the thickets.

"And why are you two suddenly interested in the clones?" Faelynn asked, with a hint of suspicion in his voice. The discrepancy between his expectations and the results spoiled his mood.

"I think it makes sense to find out more about who they are," Tim answered reluctantly.

"Let's find out all at once!" Naar-Tam suggested with enthusiasm.

He borrowed a booklet from Tim and opened it so that the contents could be seen by those around him. A curious crowd immediately surrounded him.

On the first page of the brochure there were schematic pictures of two smiling, cheerful little men, facing each other, one in a school uniform, the other semi-transparent. The text, typed in capital letters, described not so much the process of creating doppelgangers (a dozen of very clever scientific terms, the explanation of which was missing, could be disregarded), as benefits from their use. For example, if you have to go to class but have no desire to, you send your double instead of yourself and it's in the bag. Or, on the contrary, you leave him to do your homework and go out with your friends.

"Only it's better not to let him go on a date instead of you," Eliavin commented cheerfully.

"Who are you going on a date with?" Eliavel jumped up to him immediately.

"I'm just theorizing..."

"She's very caring," Gillmir said, both snidely and admiringly at the same time.

"Lucky for someone with a sister," Mez'A'Shib sighed.

"How else could it be, if at the slightest disregard immediately some kind of pest will catch on!"

"You don't mean me, do you?" Dem'O'Sut queried her sarcastically. "Maybe I was only trying to make friends! Why did you have to put buzzing insects on me?"

"I can do it again!" Eliavel said firmly, looking around. The ghosts were nowhere to be seen.

"Don't be angry, I really wasn't going on a date with anyone," Eliavin said conciliatorily, standing between his sister and the drow girl.

"Well, if anything, you'll get it from me!"

"And if I make a date, will you come?" Dem'O'Sut asked, smiling sassy. "Alright, alright, I am just kidding, don't be angry. You, the light ones, are so serious, you don't even understand jokes!"

"It depends on what kind of jokes," Gillmir said.

"Various ones. You, for instance, are you brave?"

"Maybe," the elf answered cautiously, feeling a catch.

"Well, let's try it. Would you walk through the woods with me?"

"Right now?"

"Why not? It's still a long time before nightfall."

"Okay," Gillmir agreed after a moment's hesitation. It was obvious that the decision was not easy for him.

"Well, then, let's go!"

Dem'O'Sut took him by the arm and led him away.

"Don't go, Gill!" Parial shouted belatedly after.

"Don't worry, I'll take him back in one piece!" the drow mockingly parried, turning back.

"We should have kept an eye on them," Fingor said anxiously.

"It's indecent," Iwiel pursed her lips, "but let's see in what condition Gill gets back, and then we'll act accordingly."

"Besides, there's lots of us and only one of us."

"And after that you'll speak of noble-mindedness?" Mez'A'Shib sneered.

"And no one asked your opinion at all. We can deal with you as well."

"All together, too?"

At this point Rumara couldn't take it anymore.

"It's only fair when it's one on one and face to face, everything else is zrazd," she said firmly.

"We're joking, too!" Taeron said.

"It is the same exception to the rule when it's better to send a clone on your date," Alkitmi said philosophically.

"Isn't there a formula for their creation?" Patpako activated, peering in the text.

He was immediately laughed at.

"First become a Master, then try it! If only people like you knew how to make doubles, there'd be more than enough to go around!"

"Maybe it's possible if you have enough mana," the yusme protested.

"Well, try. Kunfor is already overloaded with it himself. And as a result he ended up in the hospital."

Indeed, a few days ago Kunfor had precisely what the kobold had warned about - excess mana spilled out as a tangle of nasty yellow and brown worms. The anzimar had no choice but to run to the medical aid station, where he was given a disgusting tasting potion designed to restore the balance of mana in his system. He had to do a general cleaning in his room, because the worms that had appeared out of nowhere would not return to nowhere for some reason.

The story amused all who heard it, especially Ri-Bo. It's because of his natural dislike for blue-eyed beauties, Tim thought, not knowing the true background. Though the tilfing itself, except for a little moral satisfaction, did not benefit much from the incident - the anzimars had no intention of giving up their demands.

"I am not a fool, I am well aware of the dangers of mana overeating," Patpako was offended. "Simply I've heard of an artifact, the owner of which can absorb any amount of mana without any consequences."

It was immediately silent around him.

"So, from this point more detail, please," Taeron expressed the collective interest. "What artifact, where is it now?"

"I don't know," the yusme admitted embarrassedly. "Perhaps it's just a legend. It says that it was once made by Vian-Tig, the greatest wizard of Olmari (Naar-Tam nodded his head as if he knew him). But then he'd lost it somewhere - wizards can be very absent-minded sometimes (it was difficult to keep from smiling to those who heard this; the yusme himself was known for being absent-minded, always being late and losing things regularly) - or, in another version of the legend, it was stolen. Anyway, it's not on Olmari now. As you can imagine, it's almost impossible to hide the possession of such a thing from others."

"Indeed," Yantau snorted. "With it you can cast any spell, no matter how powerful it is! You can move a mountain, or slay a whole horde of enemies in one touch!"

"It's so with a few adjustments," Alkitmi said, giving himself a 'scholarly' look. "If you're already a great sorcerer, you won't surprise anyone by shifting mountains. But if yesterday you couldn't set fire to a bundle of straw, and today you make the whole sea boil, that's really suspicious."

"That's right. You can't go from novice to Great Master overnight without an artifact like that. Kunfor already tried."

"Could it be in our museum, by any chance? Maybe that's why they walled it up."

"Yeah, in order for people like you don't steal it again."

"Let's ask an adult!"

As predictably, no one was willing to talk to Sir Pulsok on the subject. The teachers of Green, Red, and Yellow magic seemed to be the more preferable candidates, especially after Tim's statement that it is useless to ask the librarian, he had only recently been invited to work here. And Fingor said he'd tried to find out this from the kobold when he and Faelinn had been serving time in the lab, grinding some nasty stuff into mortars. But the kobold refused to say anything and advised them to ask the goblin directly.

Of course, don't hold your breath, Tim grinned to himself. Since you left our team without telling anyone, you're no longer trustworthy. But it's a sensible idea, Tim wondered why it hadn't occurred to him before. Kobold has been here much longer than the librarian, and he should know many secrets of the school.