by Guy Antibes
“That would be a good start. We would have five right at the start of summer,” Whit said.
“Assuming we are successful. The chances of significant delays are much greater than the prospects of picking up time,” Razz said. “I’m just being realistic.”
“We don’t have to retrieve all of the parts. Some components we can make after the expedition, or expeditions if we have to go out more than one summer,” Whit said. “We only need to find a few parts to make sure the dimensions are right.”
Razz nodded. “And all of the critical ones…” He looked down at the map. “Then we go through Festor to Perisia’s capital, Garri. What do you know about Perisia? Is Yetti from there?”
Whit shook his head. “She is from Coria. Perisia is a closed state, only pixies are allowed to own land.”
“Just so long as we can get permission to look for the parts.”
“Gambol knows how to make working drawings,” Whit said. “We might even make a few bogus parts as we travel.”
Razz smiled. “Good enough for me. Don’t tell the others. I’ll be there for lunch.”
Whit nodded and got up to leave when Razz’s cousin barged in with an older sky elf.
“Razzle kicked me out when this person arrived,” she said derisively.
The old man squinted and looked at Whit from top to bottom. “You are the university scout player, aren’t you? I’ve seen you play.” He gave Whit a smile. “Keep my grandson safe, will you?”
“Aren’t you going to ask him to leave?”
“Who? Razz or his friend?” the old elf asked.
She stomped her foot on the ground and folded her arms. “Both, if you should know!”
“I should.” The grandfather looked at Razz. “I think it’s time for you to wrap things up. Eggs says—”
“My name is Eggia, Granduncle.”
The grandfather nodded and sighed. “She came with the changeover,” he said apologetically to Razz.
“I know,” Razz said.
“I’ll be going,” Whit said.
“Wait outside. I have everything I need already packed up except for the map on my desk.”
Whit walked out the office building into a busy yard filled with wagons of all sizes moving goods in and out of warehouses. If Razz could keep track of all this, Whit hoped he could keep him occupied while on the quest.
Razz walked out with a big portfolio for the maps, presumably, and a smaller bag full of other things.
“My father thinks that Grandfather will join us once the other side of the family destroys the business.”
“Then why would your grandfather let them take over?”
Razz shook his head. “It’s a legal issue, and I’m not a lawyer. My father is much smarter than me, and he finally gave up.”
“And you are willing to miss the downfall?” Whit asked.
“Definitely. Until all this happened, I thought my father and grandfather stuck me doing the logistics for the business. I thought they didn’t trust me and gave me flunky work. It wasn’t that way at all, once my father and grandfather explained how important my work has been. My father thinks I’d be asked to return in weeks, if not days, if I wasn’t going on the expedition. He’d rather I wasn’t available to help.”
“Then let’s make everything count.”
“We will,” Razz said as he adjusted the strap of the bag, and they left the yard. Razz only looked back once.
Chapter Two
~
W hit had already taken his bags to the inn for loading onto one of the carriages. Razz and Fistian volunteered to pack the carriages that Razz had bought, and that left Whit with a final evening in his townhouse. Torius Pott had stayed with him after he moved out of his rooms at Glory Bache’s boarding house.
“This is such a nice place,” Pott said. “I’ll miss staying here.”
“No windows and no garden to look at,” Whit said. “You have a key, so make sure everything is locked up when you leave. You can always stay here when you are in Herringbone.”
“I will. You are staying on the second floor tonight?”
“Someone will want to see lights in the house.” Whit said. “I made sure the people making the furniture had a bed delivered when I left Glory’s place.
Pott nodded. “This old gnome body is ready for bed. I’ll be shooing you upstairs.”
“This young elf body is going to be difficult to settle down. Tomorrow is an exciting day.”
Torius chuckled. “The first of many.”
Whit went up through the kitchen and poured himself the remainder of the ale from a jug the two of them had shared earlier in the evening. He sat down on one of the old chairs in front of the rickety table he had bought in the market to last until he left for the expedition.
Someone pounded on the door. He wondered who it might be? The only visitor he had before was Canis Bache, and he had keys to the house and felt free to let himself in. Whit was tempted not to answer, but there was a light in the foyer.
He went to the door and opened it.
“Whit Varian?” asked an older man dressed in a professor’s robe, but it had fancy embroidery. He would be a professor. “I am Jaken Torpian, a member of the Ayce Magician’s Circle.”
“You are a trustee of the Magister’s Club?”
“I might be,” the man said.
Whit opened the door to let the man in. The foyer was unfurnished. “I have chairs in the kitchen. My furniture is being built and won’t be completed until I return from my activities this summer.”
“The expeditions,” Torpian said. “I don’t have much to say and can say it here.”
“Then I’m all ears,” Whit said.
“Figuratively,” Torpian said.
Whit wondered if he had a sense of humor or none at all.
“There is no chance you will find all the parts of the Augur’s Eye this summer,” the magician said. He cleared his throat, a sign that he was uncomfortable with what he was about to say. “We are divided in this, but in my view, reconstruction of the Eye cannot be permitted. There are those in the circle who want to use it, but they are naive and power-hungry. It was dismantled for a good reason.”
“Do you know why?” Whit asked.
“Is knowing the future a good thing? It gives someone an inordinate advantage in the world, and with a huge advantage, greedy people do greedy things.”
Whit laughed. “Do you know how magical devices are made?”
Torpian furrowed his brows. “I don’t know what you mean.”
No sense of humor, Whit thought. “Infusing the device with the right kind of magic is not a trivial task.”
“I know that much,” Torpian admitted.
“Then, even if I find everything and assemble it correctly, how will I find the spell used to activate the Augur’s Eye?” Whit said.
“Oh, I see. Why are you seeking to reassemble the parts?” the magician asked.
“Because it will be an exciting expedition. My team and I will go to most of the countries in the world and meet interesting people. Why not?”
“You have no intention of making the Eye work?” Torpian said.
“I am a second-year student at Herringbone University. I’m not even in the College of Magic. How would I make it work? I have Professor Laring Gambol as an advisor. He is a gnome and will help me reconstruct it, but I’m afraid it will only be a model.”
“Then you must give it to the circle when you are finished,” Torpian said.
“Not the College of Magic?”
Torpian blushed. “It would be inappropriate for the college to have control of that kind of object. I have your word?”
Whit laughed. “You have nothing, Magician Torpian. If I get the parts,” Whit said, “and reassemble them, my team will decide what to do with the device. That will be the right time for you to make your case. I think you may be confident I will not hand it over to the College of Magic, even if they promise to enroll me next year.”
“With confidence,” Whit said. “Is that all? I’d like to ask a question of you.”
“I may be able to answer it,” Torpian said.
“What is the Magician’s Circle and why haven’t I ever heard of it?”
There was more relief on Torpian’s face. “Easy enough. We are a society of magicians. Most countries have a circle. We are loosely affiliated. We prefer to keep a low profile, but we are called upon from time to time to advise the governments of our countries. There are those who are uncomfortable with the thought of magicians influencing civic affairs, so few people know of our existence. I hope that is sufficient.”
“It is. I wish you a good night, Magician Torpian.”
The magician nodded and left with a smile that seemed genuine to Whit. He returned to the secret flat and had to wake up Pott. He hadn’t wasted any time going to sleep.
“I received a visitor.”
“I heard the knocking, but none of the conversation,” Pott said.
Whit told his friend about the conversation. “You know of the Magician’s Circle?”
“I do, but it isn’t polite to talk about it. I am a member of the one in Poxaltia, only because there are so few gnome magicians. That is one of the obligations that I alluded to that keep me from living in my home country. The Aycean circle wouldn’t want a gnome in their group.”
“He didn’t offer me anything for the Eye,” Whit said.
Pott shrugged. “Perhaps they feel they can appeal to your sense of duty. It was scattered to the far reaches of Fortia to keep it from being recovered, after all. You do mean the part about not donating it to the College of Magic?”
Whit nodded. “You know how I feel about that. I spoke the truth about the magic college to the magician.”
Pott nodded. “You may face more danger, the closer you get to success. Think about not recovering all the parts and have Laring make the ones you don’t get. Then produce them in secret on your own. You were wise not to tell him about the spells we found in the documents.”
“Of course. There is no way for them to know, and I intend to keep it that way,” Whit said.
“Good. Now that you have told me all there is, let me go back to sleep. If I don’t arise before you leave, keep me informed in the manner we discussed.”
“I will,” Whit said. They had come up with enough code words to give Pott a status of their progress through normal correspondence.
He went back to bed and wondered if he should get in touch with Canis. But then Whit decided not to since the spy would probably know more about the Magician’s Circle than Jaken Torpian or Torius Pott did.
~
Whit left his house at dawn with Torius snoring away in the hidden flat. Razz was fiddling with one of the carriages when he arrived at the inn.
“I have something to show you,” Razz said.
Whit helped Razz unload some of the luggage before the quartermaster of the team pressed a hidden stud revealing a generous-sized compartment beneath the back boot. Whit stepped back and couldn’t figure out where the space was from looking at the carriage a few paces away.
“We will need a secure space to hide the parts. The space is waterproof and the waterproofing muffles any sound the parts might make.”
“But we will also carefully store our finds,” Whit said as he helped Razz rearrange the bags in the carriage’s boot.
“Of course. We won’t be carrying all the parts to the Eye on a single trip anyway. I looked over the rules again, and it is permissible to return to Herringbone and return to the quest,” Razz said.
“So, I can put them in the vault at my house. That is almost as secure as a bank,” Whit said.
“And someone can always drive off with the carriage. I don’t know how we can do any more. There are compartments under the carriage seats and in the driver’s box, but those are more obvious,” Razz said.
“Whatever works. You are the experienced one. I’ve never had to worry about such things when I’ve traveled,” Whit said.
Fistian and Gambol walked out of the inn. They had stayed the night with the rest of the team.
“Who gets to choose who rides and who drives?” Gambol said.
“I thought we could draw lots,” Whit said. “Depending on the road conditions, we can have a driver with three inside each carriage. If someone wants to drive more than ride, they are more than welcome to do so. The same goes for accompanying the driver.”
The team ate an early lunch. Deechie showed up midway through and ate more than his fair share as they got ready to leave. Gambol had slipped out after bolting down his meal and arrived when they were boarding the carriages.
Whit told Deechie about the driving arrangements.
“I’m not good at driving a carriage,” Deechie said although he was as big as anyone in the group.
“Neither am I,” Yetti said, “but I’ll be testing out if I can do it. At least I can keep a driver company.”
“You can do that, then,” Whit said. “If Yetti can ride in the driver’s box, so can you.”
Deechie made an unpleasant face but nodded. “I can do that for short periods of time.”
“Then let’s go.”
“I’ll drive one of the carriages,” Zarl said.
Fistian raised his hand. “I will start out too. No need to draw lots at this point. You might have to later on,” the gnome said grinning.
“Yetti, why don’t you and Razz get acquainted with Deechie and Argien? Laring and I will ride while Zarl drives.”
Deechie looked confused. “But that means one carriage will have five riders and the other three.”
“And?” Whit asked.
“It isn’t even.”
“Are the horses going to complain?” Gambol said to the human.
“No…”
Whit shrugged. “Then it’s settled. Time to go.”
“We take the north road to Barnwell Town,” Razz said. “We will spend the night there before we continue on early in the morning.”
“All the way to Tarash?” Deechie asked.
“That is what’s in the plan,” Gambol said.
Their advisor nodded and climbed into the carriage that Fistian drove, and in a moment, they were out of the stable yard heading for Herringbone’s north gate. Whit looked at the university’s hill to his right before they got too close to get a good view.
“Having second thoughts?” Gambol asked.
“I wish things were different, but then most people probably think that.”
The gnome nodded. “I do. Both of us don’t let what might have happened define us, do we? It is what we do from the present moment forward. There are a lot of those decision points. You’ve had your share already.”
Whit nodded. “I haven’t made a huge mistake, I hope.”
“That is good. Now, let’s get to business, if you are through gawking at the university.”
Whit straightened up and moved to the seat facing Gambol.
The gnomish professor pulled a file out of the satchel at his feet. He held it up and gave Whit a sly smile. “This was why I was almost late. Our competition’s application.”
“How did you get that?” Whit asked.
“A friend of a friend. It is a copy. They make four or five of the winning applications. This is one of them.” Gambol said.
“What don’t I know that is in the application?” Whit asked.
“This plan is almost word for word the one that we submitted.”
“The names are different.”
Gambol pronounced the names. The only ones Whit recognized were Paros Porch, the advisor; Barine Varian; and Sergeant Oriole. There were three others, all male sky elves from the sound of their names.
“Do you know any of them?” Gambol asked.
Whit told him.
“I’ve heard of two others. They are
magic scholars. If we had a tournament of magic, I might be worried, but that isn’t the case. I’d say the team might be constructed to follow us and steal the artifacts that we find.”
Whit took a deep breath. “I can see Barine, but why Sedge?”
“Pressure on Barine, and from what you said before the selection, Sedge was wanted on the other team so he wouldn’t be on ours,” Gambol said.
“You have the same knowledge that Sedge has,” Whit says.
“And so do you. I’m most worried about the person who isn’t on the list.”
“Their most important team member, Greeb Deechie?” Whit said.
Gambol nodded. “Read through this and see if you can find anything extra or less that might be significant in their proposal.”
Whit was almost shocked by whole sections lifted from their application. He couldn’t find any differences including the order of the countries to be visited.
“We can talk to Razz, but I think we change our destination at Barnwell Town,” Whit said.
Gambol smiled and nodded. “We think alike. I’ve gone over the artifact list and there are three, possibly four components in Perisia.”
“Land of the pixies,” Whit said. “Razz made the same observation. Perisia, here we come!”
“There is a good route from Barnwell that will take us west into Festor and then down to Garri, the capital.”
“We don’t tell Deechie, just confirm it with Razz. I’ll drive the carriage in the morning.”
Chapter Three
~
W hit slept better than he thought he would and woke ready to go. Deechie had slept in and spent a few extra moments with the innkeeper before they dragged him into a coach. This time he joined Zarl and Gambol with Razz driving. Argien volunteered to keep Whit company and let Fistian rest a bit, if one could call keeping Yetti company rest.
“At least it’s a nice day,” Argien said. “If my rear end gets too tired, I can always fly.”