God of Magic

by Logan Jacobs

  Nesta fixed her with a look. “I do have other, paying customers to attend to, Aerin,” she said firmly, but Aerin was already pushing me toward the stairs.

  “Thanks, Nesta!” she said.

  “I’ve only got eel today,” the barkeep called after us. Then she muttered something I couldn’t make out as she turned back to the bar.

  On the next floor up was a landing and a shut door, but Aerin guided me up to the third floor to the small apartment that served as our guild hall.

  “Welcome home,” the elf announced.

  There were only two rooms off the central space, one of which seemed to be more of a repurposed closet with a curtain in place of the missing door. The other had only a wooden bed frame and a bare mattress, and I wondered why it was empty when every other corner of the apartment was taken up.

  It wasn’t difficult to guess who had claimed each space. The largest bed obviously belonged to Maruk. A plush, decorative rug had been spread beneath it, and the nightstand next to it was stacked with books, a candle, and a pair of wire spectacles. A thick, fringed curtain hung on a rail set above the bed so that the orc could block off his section of the room for privacy.

  Lavinia moved past me to the other bed, which was tucked against the corner beneath the large, circular window on the far wall. She’d made no effort to decorate the space, and even the blanket was plain wool, but there was a stand where she mounted her bow and quiver and a trunk at the foot of the bed where she stored her pack and other belongings.

  Across from Lavinia, a hammock piled with blankets and furs hung from the ceiling beam. A few books and assorted trinkets lay scattered across the low table next to the hammock, and beneath the table was a small box with a large padlock. Aerin dropped her pack unceremoniously onto the table with the rest of her things and knelt to open the box, which she unlocked with a key on a chain around her neck before she deposited the rest of the money we’d earned and turned to me.

  “Gabriel, you can take Thom’s old room,” the elf said. It was only logical, but there was something hesitant about Aerin’s voice nonetheless, and I noticed that she looked to Lavinia for confirmation even as she said it.

  If the archer had any objections, however, she didn’t voice them or even meet Aerin’s eyes as she continued to unpack her things, so I went into the adjacent room and set the bundle of my old clothes and the blanket I’d borrowed from Maruk on the bare mattress. It was just as well that there was no other furniture because the room was barely large enough for the bed. The walls were bare, and there was no sign of the room’s previous occupant, not even a stray sock, and I couldn’t help but wonder what Lavinia, Aerin, and Maruk had done with their old guild leader’s belongings when he’d died.

  Suddenly Aerin appeared in the doorway, and her usual smile had returned. “We’ll need to head to the market to get you some things, but dinner’s almost ready, and it’s not a good idea to wander around here at night. We’ll go first thing tomorrow, alright? I’ve got a spare pillow you can borrow.”

  “Thanks,” I replied, “that’d be great.”

  There wasn’t much left for me to do, but just then, Nesta called up that the stew was ready, and we went back downstairs to eat. With evening coming on, there were a few more patrons in the bar now, but they hardly looked up at us as we made our way to a table in the back and sat down. I supposed they were used to seeing Aerin, Lavinia, and Maruk here, and I blended in now that I had new clothes.

  Nesta had already set out helpings of stew for each of us in wooden bowls. I had never eaten eel before, but the bright red broth and smell of the spices reminded me of the menudo my dad used to make on Sundays. I tried a bite and found the eel meat to be somewhat chewy, and while it didn’t have much of a flavor on its own, Nesta had added a perfect complement of spices, peppers, and onions. The taste of the food reminded me how hungry I was, and I had nearly finished the entire bowl before I looked up and realized that Aerin was grinning at me.

  “Gabriel likes your stew, Nesta,” she called over to the barkeep.

  My cheeks warmed, and I sat up a little straighter as Nesta came over to the table.

  “It’s great,” I said, and Nesta smiled.

  “Let me get you some more then, dear,” she said with a light touch on my shoulder as she took my bowl. Then, with a pointed look at Maruk, she added, “It’s nice to have someone around who appreciates my cooking.”

  Maruk sank a bit lower in his seat. “Suggest a different marinade one time, and you’ll never hear the end of it,” the orc grumbled when Nesta was out of earshot.

  “Maruk still hasn’t learned that his tastes are outside of our price range,” Aerin told me, though loudly enough that the orc could hear.

  “You think everything that isn’t free is out of our price range, Aerin,” Lavinia replied. “We’ll finally scrape together enough coin for a real guild hall and you’ll insist we stay here because the rent is better.”

  Aerin pursed her lips, and I sensed an argument was about to break out, so I cut in. “So, how many other guilds are there?”

  “Oh, there are hundreds,” Aerin replied as she settled back into her seat. “They’re not all based in Ovrista, of course. Guilds are respected all over, but most are based out of the major cities. That’s where the real money is, anyway, so the city guilds are larger and more prosperous.”

  “How big do they get?” I asked. I remembered seeing six other people with Ren at the charter office, which would make his guild almost twice the size of ours, and some of the other groups I had seen had even more people.

  “Around ten is average,” Aerin answered. “There used to be guilds with hundreds of members and they drove all the smaller guilds out of business. Then they started trying to negotiate bounties, get higher prices for hauls and all that, and since they had a monopoly, no one could really do anything about it. It got so bad that the chancellor revoked their charters and forced them to disband.”

  Then Aerin leaned forward and her hazel eyes glittered. “Rumor has it the Arch-Mage didn’t like that,” she said. “Those big guilds had a lot of Academy-trained mages, after all.”

  “Why would the Arch-Mage care about that?” I asked.

  “Mages look out for mages,” Lavinia said as she leaned back and propped her boots up on the table. “Imagine you’re Maderel or one of those other stuffy assholes. You put out a bounty to collect some old spellbooks, and maybe the warriors that pick them up decide they can get a better price for them on the black market. You don’t get your books, and worse, maybe some rogue mage does.”

  She held up a finger. “But if you send a mage, one who’s loyal to you, one that you’ve been teaching since he was a snotty little kid, you know you’re going to get those books. And then when that guild takes other bounties, you’ve got someone who’s keeping an eye out for things that might interest you - treasure, magical items, information.

  “The guilds are supposed to be independent, so no one would own up to it, but everyone knows all the alumni from the Academy stay right in the Arch-Mage’s pocket even after they leave. The Arch-Mage planted a few of his pets in some of these massive guilds and was getting a nice cut of the profits they brought in. According to the rumor, anyway.”

  “I didn’t realize the Arch-Mage had that much influence,” I said.

  “Told you,” Lavinia said, one brow arched. “They’re in charge.”

  “Apparently there was some sort of spat between the Arch-Mage and the chancellor back then,” Aerin went on, “and the Arch-Mage prevented the government from imposing an official cap on how many members a guild is allowed to have. So there isn’t a real rule, but most guilds nowadays don’t accept more than twenty members, give or take.”

  “Were all the mages in the other guilds trained at the University?” I asked.

  “Most of them, but not all,” Aerin said. “There are a few elementalists in Ovrista who got their training elsewhere, but most opt to attend some lessons at the University here an
yway. It’s a good school. As for healers, we usually receive specific training in the temples, the Mage Academy tends to cater to elementalists.”

  I frowned at my spoon. I already knew formal training wasn’t going to be an option for me, but I couldn’t help but wish I could have some sort of instruction.

  “I know it’s probably a long shot,” I started, “but if those other elementalists were able to be trained elsewhere, do you think there might be someone outside of Ovrista who could train me?”

  Maruk and Lavinia dropped their eyes, and Aerin bit her lip.

  “I’m sorry, Gabriel,” she said as she reached across the table and took my hand, “but you really are the only manipulator we know about. If there are any others left, they don’t want to be found.”

  “You don’t need them,” Lavinia said confidently, and when I met her eyes she gave me a slight smile. “You helped us with that wraith without any training at all - which reminds me, it’s time we celebrated our victory.”

  We stayed downstairs after dinner to do just that.

  After a few drinks of the strange, slightly sweet alcohol that Lavinia ordered for all of us, I was laughing more than I had in a long time while Aerin and Maruk acted out stories of past misadventures and one particularly unpleasant encounter that the orc had had with a gnome.

  “We were staying the night in this little town, and we booked two rooms at the inn,” Aerin began with a grin. “Maruk won the coin flip, so he got to have a room to himself.” She looked over to Maruk to continue.

  The orc shook his head, but he smiled, and after a moment, said, “So, after dinner, I went up to my room--”

  “--not your room,” Lavinia added with a smirk.

  Maruk folded his napkin on the table in front of him and cleared his throat. “There was a slight mix-up,” he explained, “and I accidentally entered the wrong room. Anyone could have made the same mistake.”

  “Hardly,” Lavinia cut in. “The door was locked, you had to break in.”

  “I thought it was stuck,” Maruk insisted.

  “And what did you make of it when you saw someone else’s things laid out inside?” Aerin prompted, her eyes sparkling merrily.

  Maruk sniffed. “I thought for once we were staying somewhere that offered decent amenities.”

  “He really looked at a trunk full of some gnome’s clothes and thought it was meant for him,” Lavinia told me.

  Maruk gave me a beseeching look.

  “It didn’t tip you off that they were too small?” I asked.

  “I appreciated the gesture,” Maruk replied defensively. “The inn was run by humans, I didn’t really expect them to cater to someone of my stature.”

  “You sure that bottle of wine you ordered at dinner didn’t have anything to do with it?” Aerin teased.

  Maruk shot her a glare. “In any case, it was an honest mistake and hardly worthy of the sort of treatment I received.”

  “When the gnome that had actually rented the room came back, he couldn’t wake Maruk up,” Aerin explained. “At least, not until he dumped a pitcher of water on his head.”

  Maruk frowned. “It wasn’t water.”

  Lavinia snorted, and Aerin doubled over in a fit of giggles, and after a few moments of struggling to retain a stern frown, Maruk began to laugh as well.

  When the last of the patrons began to take their leave, we thanked Nesta for the meal and returned to our apartment. I was tired, but not as exhausted as I had been the previous night, and I had genuinely enjoyed spending the evening with Aerin, Lavinia, and Maruk. They had an easier sort of friendship than I’d had with my old friends, better humor, and more trust. I was glad Theira had sent me to them, and I hoped I would be able to help them.

  I must have slept late into the next morning because when I awoke, the mid-morning sun was in the sky and the rest of my companions were already dressed when I shuffled out of my room. Aerin and Maruk had forgone their armor for more casual clothes. Aerin wore a maroon tunic and tan leggings, and Maruk wore an embroidered vest over a shirt with wide sleeves. Lavinia dressed more or less in the same clothes she’d worn the previous day, though she’d left behind her bow and archery gloves.

  “Oh good, you’re up,” Aerin said when she saw me. “We’ll head to the market whenever you’re ready. There’s a basin and a pitcher with fresh water in there if you want to wash up.” She gestured with a tilt of her head toward the curtained-off room that I had taken to be a closet before.

  I slipped inside and found as promised the pitcher and basin on a stand beneath an old mirror. I splashed some water on my face and ran my fingers through my hair to tame the bedhead before I looked in the mirror and nearly jumped back in shock.

  My eyes were blue.

  When I blinked, my ordinary face was looking back at me, brown eyes, brown hair, a little bit of stubble from the last few days, but nothing unusual. Still, I could have sworn that for a second there my eyes had been glowing blue. I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands, but nothing else happened. I was still a bit groggy, maybe a little hung over, it was probably just my imagination. I shook off my nerves and pushed aside the curtain to join the others.

  “Ready to go?” Maruk asked. If he had noticed anything different about me, he didn’t give any indication of it.

  “Ready,” I replied.

  “We can get breakfast in town,” Aerin said as we filed down the stairs and out into the cool morning air. She handed me a small leather pouch. “This is your share of the profits from the wraith bounty, don’t lose it.”

  I tied the pouch to my belt and moved my cloak to cover it. “Thanks.”

  “I finally have enough to order a pair of boots from Bouchard’s,” Maruk said with a wide grin as we took the winding streets up toward the market district. “He made the most gorgeous pair of white boots for the chancellor, and now everyone is absolutely rabid for them.”

  “White?” Lavinia scoffed. “Are you planning on abandoning us to join a theater troupe?”

  The orc rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t expect you to appreciate Bouchard’s artistic genius, Lavinia,” he replied testily. “The only thing you care to spend money on is that bow.”

  “That bow has saved your life a few times--” Lavinia started, but Aerin cut her off.

  “Oh, lay off it, you two,” the elf groaned.

  We turned a final corner and the main street we’d taken the previous day stretched out before us again. Thankfully, the market wasn’t as chaotic as it had been before, but there were already numerous vendors out with their carts and people running errands or browsing along the storefronts. Now that I was no longer travel-weary or quite as worried about being identified, I was able to look around and appreciate the market more.

  Most of the people I saw were humans or elves, but every now and then I would pass by someone with tusks or scales, and I dropped a few copper coins into the upturned hats of a pair of dwarves who sat on the street corner and plucked the strings of an instrument that I didn’t recognize.

  I peered through the windows of a bookshop that was stacked floor-to-ceiling with volumes, and the storybook on display in the window was enchanted so that the illustrations moved along with the tales they depicted. Another shop boasted the newest model of some sort of device constructed of brass fixtures and glass orbs that apparently was used in alchemy. I knew it was nothing I needed, but I couldn’t help but be fascinated, nonetheless. The longer we were there, the more I realized there was to see, and I probably could have spent the entire day marveling at it all.

  My clothes might have helped me blend in, but there must have been something about me that suggested I was a tourist because the vendors and shop owners were quick to offer me all sorts of discounts that Aerin denied just as quickly. I wasn’t in danger of throwing my money away on anything frivolous, but I was glad to have her along, anyway, especially since she was able to talk the man who sold me some leather arm braces into cutting his price by a quarter. Still, as the day
wore on, the pouch Aerin had given me grew noticeably lighter as I purchased more clothes, some books about magic and Ovristian history, and other necessary items for myself.

  “Gabriel and I should stop by the University Tower to submit our tithes,” Aerin said when we met Lavinia and Maruk back on the street.

  Aerin’s expression suggested that she’d been hoping the others wouldn’t remember that aspect of our plan, and I couldn’t say I was much more thrilled by the prospect of going to the Mage Academy, either. Even so, I knew that there was no way around it, so I nodded in response, and the four of us made our way through the market toward the sparkling tower. Lavinia and Maruk opted to wait outside while Aerin and I submitted our tithes, and now that I once again stood beneath the imposing shadow of the great glass-covered tower, I couldn’t blame them for not wanting to come in.

  As Aerin and I walked up the wide, white stone path to the main entrance of the Arcane University Tower, the coil of apprehension in my gut was only made worse by the sight of my own reflection in the hundreds of mirrored panels that decorated the outside of the structure. I couldn’t say why, exactly, but it somehow made me feel as though I were being drawn in, about to be caught like a gnat on flypaper, but maybe that was just my nerves.

  I tilted my head back to look at the higher stories. Instead of reflecting the sky and the tops of the buildings as I’d expected, the panels even several stories up seemed to be angled so that they would reflect the street and the people on the ground, and I only ended up looking into my own face again. I wasn’t sure how that worked given the shape of the tower, but perhaps magic was involved. In any case, I kept my eyes on the street in front of me until we were inside.

  For an academic building, the Mage’s Tower certainly didn’t look like one. If anything, the wide circular room I entered with Aerin resembled the lobby of a hotel, or maybe a museum. Eight wide windows spaced at even intervals around the tower let in the daylight, and I realized that some of the panels on the outside of the building must have been two-way glass. Or, considering where I was, enchanted somehow. The floor was tiled in purple-gray marble and polished so thoroughly that it was just as reflective as the outside of the building, and I had to wonder why the mages here seemed so preoccupied with mirrors.