staff and connected it to him, and the technology currently within the power of the mages, with which various tools had been built into the staff.
Galen closed his eyes and focused on it, visualized the equation for association.
It awoke, echoing his equation. A subtle vibration of energy slipped into him. The vibration was echoed back by the implants, echoed again by the staff. The echoes came faster, growing stronger and sharper, reflecting back and forth like the ringing of a bell in a bell tower, swelling in rapid reverberation. His mind raced. He didn't know if he could control it. Wild energies could escape. Elric could be injured. Elric could be disappointed. Galen must figure out how to prevent that. Galen must not allow that. But what if he couldn't perform the task set for him by the Circle? What if he failed? He had already failed once. Isabelle certainly didn't love him. How could she love him? How would he cope with that?
And what was happening to him?
The energy from the chrysalis had combined with the undercurrent from the implants to produce a surge of nervous anticipation, as if he'd been injected with adrenaline. He'd read of this effect-parallelism, they called it-and knew that mages became accustomed to it, over time.
He recited the prime numbers, silently, deliberately. The orderly progression echoed back to him, calming him. The vibration remained, yet its intensity lessened.
The staff was now a part of him, a new limb. A menu of options appeared in his mind's eye, reflecting the more traditional part of the staff's technology. He studied the possibilities. It could control, hold, and channel energies. It could observe; it could record. It could destroy itself, if he deemed it necessary.
He closed his eyes, carefully visualizing