God of Magic

by Logan Jacobs

  There were only a few other people in the room, two elves and a human, seated in the plush chairs by the windows where they conversed quietly amongst themselves. They glanced over at us when we entered but then went back to their own business without a second look, for which I was grateful.

  I tried not to meet anyone’s eyes and kept my expression neutral. I knew we stood a better chance of pulling this off if we didn’t draw undue attention to ourselves. That would have been a bit easier, of course, if Aerin weren’t so fidgety. I could feel the waves of nervous energy coming off her as we crossed the lobby, and she kept looking around as though she expected the Arch-Mage himself to pop up behind us.

  “Don’t worry, Gabriel,” she muttered through a strained smile. “Everything is going to be just fine, you don’t need to be nervous.”

  “I’m not nervous,” I said. I was, a little, and slightly more with Aerin acting the way she was, but one of us needed to keep our wits.

  Aerin didn’t appear to have heard me. “Really, this is just a formality.” Her voice had a sing-song quality. “No one will even notice us.”

  I remembered how easily she had lied to the guard at the gate the day before and wondered how she could be so unhinged now. I supposed mages were more difficult to fool than guards, and we were in the belly of the beast here, so to speak, but that meant it was that much more important that Aerin regain her composure.

  I stopped and put a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, seriously, are you okay?”

  Aerin laughed nervously. “What-what would make you think I’m not okay? I am perfectly okay, Gabriel,” she said, loudly enough that the mages by the windows shot us a look.

  I kept my voice down and made it as calm as I could. “You’re kind of freaking out, Aerin. Do you think we should do this separately?” I didn’t want to face the mages alone, but I was beginning to wonder if it might be better that way. Aerin wasn’t being exactly subtle.

  “You’re freaking out!” she shot back, then bit her lip. “Sorry. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’ve just never committed perjury before, that’s all.”

  “It’s going to be fine,” I told her.

  “Right, of course. I know that.” She nodded. “I know that.”

  “Okay,” I said, although I wasn’t quite convinced. “Let’s go.”

  The center of the lobby was dominated by a twelve-foot tall steel statue of a man in long robes. His right hand was raised, and there was a lit brazier in his cupped palm, so it appeared as though he had actually summoned fire. The statue’s face was set in a serious expression, and I felt as though his stern eyes were following me as Aerin and I passed. On either side of the statue, two grand staircases led to the upper floors. The banisters had an intricate, twisting design, and the thick runners that protected the marble steps were embroidered in silver thread with what appeared to be star charts and constellations, but Aerin took us past the stairs to the single, towering desk at the back of the room.

  A young man with ruffled, sandy hair sat behind the desk and leaned his head on his wrist as he pored over a large book. More books and other documents surrounded him, and I wondered if he was a receptionist or a student. Perhaps he was both, but in any case, he didn’t even look up at us until Aerin cleared her throat.

  “My friend here is new to Ovrista, he needs to register with the Academy, and we’re both going to submit our tithes,” she said cheerfully. For a moment, it seemed as though she’d managed to rein in her anxiety, but when the mage looked up, Aerin went on loudly, “He’s an elementalist. He does all kinds of elemental magic-well not all kinds, of course, just the one-the one kind. His kind, because he’s an elementalist. Everything is fine with him. He’s really excited to give his tithe.”

  My stomach was in knots as the man’s watery brown eyes moved slowly from Aerin to me, but then he dropped his gaze back to his book and tapped another of the volumes that lay open on the desk and contained what appeared to be a registry.

  “Sign here,” he told me in a bored drawl. “Legibly.”

  I took up the quill that stood in a stand by the book and wrote my name on the first available line.

  “For ‘Affiliation’ you’ll put our guild name,” Aerin said with painfully forced levity, “and of course, you’re an elementalist...” She cut a quick glance to the receptionist, but he was still absorbed in his book.

  I filled in the information in the corresponding spaces and returned the quill to its stand.

  The young man’s eyes flicked over to the registry, and then he looked at me. “Your official documents will be sent to you via your guild within three days,” he recited with obvious disinterest. “You are required to bequeath ten percent of your mana per month to the Academy per the price of admission and membership.” His waved his hand as he went back to his book. “Up the stairs and to the left.”

  “Thanks,” I said, but the man didn’t respond or show us any further acknowledgment as we turned from the desk and started for the stairs.

  “See? I told you, no trouble at all,” Aerin said with a slight tremor in her voice. “They don’t suspect a thing.”

  “Right,” I said. “Uh, Aerin, I don’t mean to be rude, but maybe you should stop talking.”

  She blinked and then nodded rapidly. “Yes, good idea. That’s a good idea, Gabriel. I should--”

  “Aerin.”

  She bit her lip and nodded again, but didn’t say anything else as we headed up the first set of stairs.

  I only glimpsed the hall lined with countless doors as Aerin ushered me through the first on the left as the receptionist had instructed. The room we entered had the same marble floor and dark wood furniture as the lobby, but the attendant who awaited us behind the desk there was a stern-looking woman with streaks of gray in her black hair. She almost looked like a statue the way she sat so rigidly at the desk, but as she waited, she drummed her long fingers on the surface of another registry book and her eyes narrowed slightly when she saw us.

  She didn’t waste any time. “Names?” she asked in a clipped tone.

  “Vanynor, Aerin,” Aerin answered. She was still practically vibrating with anxiety, but at least she had managed not to launch into another speech about me being an elementalist.

  The woman flipped through the tome before her and made a mark on one of the lines. Then she stood and walked over to a silver-and-glass instrument that stood on a tripod by the desk. I had never seen anything like it. A large glass orb was suspended between several metal bands which were etched with foreign symbols and writing.

  Aerin joined the woman before the instrument and placed her hand on the surface of the glass ball. As soon as she did, the light of her mana began to flow from her chest down her arm through her palm to collect inside the orb, but the sound that accompanied it wasn’t the gentle musical notes I’d heard when she’d used her magic before. Instead, it was more like the sound of water going out of a drain, and for some reason, it made me nervous. I watched as the light in her chest faded until the stern-faced woman nodded and Aerin stepped back.

  “Initial here,” the woman instructed.

  Aerin scratched her initials on the page where the attendant had indicated, and then it was my turn. The woman’s sharp black eyes met mine.

  “Your name?”

  “Gabriel,” I answered quickly. “Er - Vega. Gabriel Vega.”

  “He’s new,” Aerin said with a wide smile.

  “I just registered,” I added quickly, before Aerin could say anything else.

  The woman looked from me to Aerin with a sour expression, and I couldn’t tell if she was annoyed with us, specifically, or if she just always looked as though she’d just stepped into a puddle and soaked her socks, but she said nothing as she flipped through the book to the back and wrote my name on a free line before she walked over to the metal instrument again.

  Aerin had assured me before that there was nothing to worry about, but her anxiety now was somewhat infectious, and my gut twisted up as I approached
the device and my thoughts buzzed. Would it hurt? What if it didn’t work since I was a manipulator? What if it did work but it gave me away somehow? Aerin had said it wouldn’t, but if all the manipulators were killed, how could she be sure?

  The woman cleared her throat and pulled me from my thoughts, and I offered her a placating smile as I placed my hand on the glass as Aerin had. She didn’t smile back.

  Immediately, I heard that sound again, like water going down a drain, but this time, I felt the pull against my mana as it was drawn into the orb. It felt like the air was being sucked out of my lungs, and my heart began to beat faster. Dark spots clouded at the edges of my vision and a sudden wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm me, but I couldn’t move. It was as though an electric current held me rooted in place while this thing sucked the life out of me. Nerves turned to fear and I could only form one thought: I didn’t want to do this.

  As soon as I’d thought it, the draining sound quieted and I felt the pulling sensation lessen.

  The woman frowned, and when I met Aerin’s eyes, she looked scared shitless. As soon as I saw the elf’s expression, I knew I’d done something wrong. Had I interrupted the process somehow? How was that even possible?

  The woman leaned forward and adjusted some of the metal bands on the instrument, her brow pinched.

  I wanted to walk away, to leave and never set foot in this place again, but I knew that wasn’t an option, so I swallowed and tried to relax.

  I felt the pull again and heard the draining sound swell in my ears in competition with the hammering of my heart, but after a few more moments, the woman nodded and I was allowed to step back.

  She adjusted the bands on her instrument again and then turned her sharp eyes to me, and I wondered if she guessed that I’d had anything to do with the device’s malfunction, but after several long seconds, she merely sniffed, muttered something about a lack of funds for modern equipment, and led me back to the desk with the registry book.

  “Initial,” she instructed me.

  My hand shook slightly as I penned a G and a V onto the line next to my name, but then Aerin took my arm and guided me back out into the hall.

  “Are you alright?” the elf asked. She still had her hand wrapped around my arm, and her eyes were wide with alarm. “You look pale.”

  My mouth was dry, but I didn’t feel as though I was in danger of passing out or anything, so I nodded.

  “The first time is a little weird for everybody,” Aerin said. “You get used to it.”

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to get used to it, but I was in no mood to argue right then, so I just nodded again, and Aerin gave me an encouraging smile.

  “Some food will help,” she said, and for her part, she seemed significantly calmer now that we were on our way out of the tower. “Let’s go find Lavinia and Maruk.”

  “Okay,” I sighed as I felt my tense muscles start to relax.

  “See? Nothing to worry about! They had no clue.” The beautiful elf woman laughed.

  “Uhh, you seemed pretty concerned in ther--”

  “Pffft!” she scoffed. “I was fine, and wasn’t at all worried about losing the best money-making asset that any guild in the entire world would have killed to have-- oh look! There are our friends!”

  The others were waiting on benches outside the University Tower, and they stood when Aerin and I approached.

  Now that we had taken care of all our necessary shopping and errands, Maruk insisted on going to that cordwainer’s shop that he had mentioned earlier. It was closer to the city center than the shops that we had been visiting, which I learned by now meant that it also generally catered to a higher class of customer. The crowds thinned, and our small group became somewhat more conspicuous among the richly clad pedestrians that looked down their noses at us when they deigned to glance in our direction. I didn’t really care, but I noticed that Maruk stood up a little straighter and smoothed back his hair whenever someone looked over at him.

  If we were getting snobbish looks out on the street, they nearly turned into outright glares once we entered Bouchard’s. The doorway was low and narrow, clearly designed with humans in mind, and Maruk had to duck awkwardly to get through.

  The rich smell of leather and polish hit my nose at once, but when I looked around the shop, it wasn’t the rows of boots that caught my eye, but the group of people in matching blue scarves who stood and spoke to the old man behind the counter. It was that guild from yesterday and the mage Lavinia hated, Ren.

  “Maybe Lavinia, Gabriel, and I should wait outside--” Aerin started to suggest, but Ren had finished his conversation, and his face spread into another of those false smiles when he saw us.

  “Well, I didn’t know Foxes came to places like this,” he said. He cast a glance to Maruk, who was forced to duck his head slightly due to the height of the ceiling. “You’re a long way from that ratty little tavern by the wall.”

  Aerin preemptively put a hand on Lavinia’s arm. “We got a good profit from the wraith,” the elf said. “I don’t see why that concerns you.”

  Ren turned his blue eyes on her and crossed his arms. “I’ll tell you why it concerns me, Red,” he said. “See, we were talking, and we think that even with your amazing new mage friend from Kassal, you shouldn’t have been able to take that wraith.”

  “I guess that explains why you Stewards aren’t known for your intelligence,” Lavinia replied with a level glare. “Unlike you, we actually get results when we take a bounty, but you’re still looking for that enchanted medallion, aren’t you? Didn’t you take that bounty two months ago?”

  Ren’s hand curled into a fist as he glared back. “Like you’d do any better.”

  “Afraid to find out?” Lavinia sneered.

  Ren was silent for a moment, and I kept my eye on his clenched fist, worried he might throw a punch, but at last, he just said, “Let’s prove which of us is the better guild, then. A bounty went up today to retrieve an artifact from the Shadow Delves. If you get it first, I’ll give you the rights to the medallion bounty, too, but if we win, you hand over your charter and disband your guild.”

  Before any of us could say anything, Lavinia raised her chin and stuck out her hand. “Deal.”

  Chapter 6

  “Have you completely lost your mind?” Aerin demanded. We stood on the street outside the shop where Aerin had dragged Lavinia out by the arm as soon as Ren and his posse had left. “You can’t just make that decision for us! Gods, Lavinia, ever since Thom--”

  “Aerin--” Maruk interrupted in a warning tone.

  The elf rounded on him. “You can’t possibly agree with this!” This block may not have been as crowded as the other section of the market, but Aerin’s outrage was turning the heads of the passersby.

  The orc looked supremely uncomfortable, his brow bent in a nervous frown as he looked around. “We can discuss it back at home,” he said in a low voice.

  I was surprised when Aerin turned to me, obviously wondering if I would back her up. I wasn’t sure how I felt yet about the deal Lavinia had made, but I knew it wouldn’t help to cause a scene here.

  “Maruk is right,” I said with a glance to the orc, “we shouldn’t talk about it here.”

  Aerin looked betrayed, but when she realized she was outnumbered, her shoulders slumped, and she let out a frustrated sigh. She said nothing else, but she hung back slightly while Maruk led our small party back through the market. Lavinia wasn’t up to talking either, but I could sense the tension between the two women like an electric charge in the air.

  I considered what had just happened. Obviously, Lavinia and Ren had some sort of history, and I guessed that the animosity between them had to do with more than simple competitive rivalry. Maybe it had something to do with Thom, since Aerin had mentioned their old guild leader, too. I could only speculate about that, though, and I didn’t think now was the best time to ask, so I focused instead on what Lavinia’s deal would mean for us.

  We had entered a r
ace to collect a bounty, and it was a race we had to win or else we’d forfeit our guild. This was all still so new to me, but it seemed like we’d done well against the wraith, well enough, at least, that Ren had felt threatened by our success. His guild, the Stewards, Lavinia had called them, had almost twice the people that we did, but that wasn’t necessarily an advantage, but I didn’t know enough about the bounty in question or Ren and his guild to judge our odds beyond that.

  At last, we reached the Magpie and shuffled up the stairs to our apartment. Despite her earlier outburst, Aerin didn’t seem inclined to reignite the discussion and dropped into her hammock in stony silence while Lavinia stood by the door with her arms crossed.

  I exchanged a glance with Maruk, who looked as though he’d rather be anywhere else, but then he said with some hesitation, “I suppose we ought to discuss what we’re going to do now.”

  “It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?” Aerin snapped. “Lavinia already took it upon herself to wager our charter.” She shot a glare to Lavinia who pointedly ignored it.

  “Couldn’t we just contact Ren and renegotiate?” I asked. “It’s just a bet, right?”

  “Honor is important among the guilds,” Maruk explained with a shake of his head. “If it seems like we’re trying to go back on our agreement, it’ll look like we’re unreliable or cowardly. I have no doubt Ren is already spreading the news to the other guilds. Our reputation would be damaged if we refused to follow through on the original terms.”

  It still seemed imprudent to me to favor our pride over our charter, and my hesitation must have shown on my face because Maruk went on.

  “Most bounties are posted in the charter hall for any guild to try to claim,” he said, “but sometimes specific guilds with good reputations are offered the rights to a bounty directly, and they usually pay better than those that are publicly available. If we want to have a future, we can’t really afford to lose face on this.”