The King's Spy (The Augur's Eye Book 2)

by Guy Antibes

  “Maybe Ionna Terria knows where all the old buildings in Garri were.”

  Pin shrugged. “If King Quiller thinks she does, then I suppose I’m not sure we can do any better on our own.”

  Whit agreed. “There might be another artifact floating around. I’d like to take another look at Varetta’s temple.”

  “The ruin or the shrine?” Pin asked.

  Whit smiled. “They were both ruins. The temple on the plateau.” His mind turned to the vision of Varetta. Maybe she might be willing to give up the location of the fourth artifact if he was lucky enough to ask her.

  ~

  Ionna Teria looked up at Whit and Argien. The pair had to fly a few miles outside the city, and Pin wasn’t up to that long a distance. Ionna was small, even for a pixie.

  “You are the ones sent by Proller?” the little woman said.

  “Proller?” Argien furrowed his brow and looked at Whit.

  “It is the king’s last name,” Whit said.

  “Did you bring the trinket Proller gave you?”

  Whit didn’t know it was required, but he had slipped the heavy medal into his pocket just in case he needed some credibility. “Here it is.”

  Her eyes brightened with recognition. “That’s it. It has changed a little since I got mine,” the tiny woman said. “Come in.”

  They walked into the tiny cottage. Whit and Argien had to bend down to enter. Ionna looked back and giggled. “We will sit outside in the back garden,” she said. “I don’t think my furniture would last long with you two sittin’ on it.”

  Out the back were some benches filled with potted flowers.

  “Take a few pots off, and I think the benches will be best for our chat,” Ionna said.

  Once Whit and Argien had cups of sweet pixie wine in their hands, Ionna stepped back into the house and returned with a large tote full of books she nearly had to drag out the door.

  Whit got up and helped her.

  “You are a nice lad and a good Valiant. Not all of us have been good, you know,” Ionna said wagging her finger. “I was told you wanted information on where the Augur’s Eye artifacts are.”

  Whit took out his paper, a map of Garri and handed it to the woman. She laughed when she saw it. “You have it wrong! The artifacts must be hidden in the old capital.”

  “But that is just a pile of ruins!” Argien said.

  Ionna giggled. “When you hide something and no one knows where it is, does it matter if it’s in ruins or in a manicured park?”

  “Are you sure?” Argien asked.

  “I’m not sure of anything, dear angel. All I know is none of the artifacts have surfaced since the demise of the ancient dynasties.” She gave them a quick tour of the past. Whit found it interesting, but he could tell that Argien’s attention was waning.

  “Do you have a map of the ancient capital?” Whit asked.

  “Of course, and the one you want is the last one. In those days, if a building burned down or was replaced, they didn’t hire a fancy Aycean architect from Herringbone, they used the same materials and rebuilt on the same footprint. I’ve taken the liberty of making a copy.” She rummaged around in her tote and handed him a large, folded paper.

  Whit straightened it out. “The capital was built for different times,” he said.

  “Good observation. You’ve had some learning?”

  Whit nodded. “Four terms of political geography at the University of Herringbone.”

  She looked perplexed. “You aren’t a magician?”

  “He is,” Argien said. “Whit is a well-rounded student. He’s had the goal of searching for parts to the Eye for the last year and half.”

  Ionna grinned. “And they are spread all over Fortia.”

  “I can only prepare so much,” Whit said.

  They spent the next hour going over Whit’s notes and the bookmarked passages in her books. The information was almost a match.

  “I am impressed. You have notes like this for every part?” Ionna said.

  “Mostly,” Whit said. “My mother’s ancestors wanted the Augur’s Eye brought back to the world.”

  “Without a saint to guide the folk in its use?”

  “The part about the saints and the Eye isn’t anywhere in my notes,” Whit said. “I only learned about it in Perisia.”

  “From whom? I thought I was the only pixie alive who knew about it,” Ionna said.

  “Ornnis brought out some books. I picked it up as an idle comment from one of the writers.” Whit had to lie. How could he tell the woman that Varetta told him?

  “You found a hidden pearl. You didn’t tell Ornnis about it, did you?”

  Whit sighed. “I didn’t see the need.”

  “Good. Keep it that way. Ornnis is a pernicious little brat. Thinks his connection to the interior minister makes him smarter. It doesn’t.”

  “I agree,” Whit said.

  “You should!” Ionna picked up another book. “Read this passage.”

  Whit examined the words carefully. The book was very, very old, and most of the script was blurred or faint. Nevertheless, the words were a warning. According to the book, the saints left the world due to the Augur’s Eye getting into the possession of a uniquely talented magician who could unlock its power as well as any saint.

  “But what if there is no one who can make the thing work, assuming we get all the parts?” Argien said.

  Whit kept his mouth shut when Ionna piped in. “Of course, but if that is the case, why go through all the trouble?”

  Whit let Argien explain about the expedition contest and the existence of a rival team.

  Ionna laughed and waved her hand in front of her face. “So you think Perisian artifacts are low-hanging fruit?”

  “We already have a part.” Whit told her what the artifact did.

  “It’s not one of ours?” Ionna asked.

  “No. It was originally sent north,” Whit said.

  “I’d be careful if you put the thing together. Even though no one has the talent to make it work, interested parties could kill to possess a reconstructed Eye,” Ionna said in all seriousness.

  “We are already acting as carefully as we can, but our rivals can follow us.”

  Ionna thought for a moment. “Then go to the council building in the old capital and search there. It is far enough away from where you need to be.” She put an “x” on the map. “They can dig for years and not find anything. It was the first building stripped past the foundation after the old capital fell. By the way, it is called the old capital, but it shared its name with the current city.”

  “Garri and Garri,” Argien said.

  “As long as you know which is which, you can call them whatever you want,” Ionna said. “What can you tell me about the fourth part?”

  “Not much. We think it is a part that is vital to making the Eye work. My information says it might be in Perisia.” Whit pulled out the golden coin he had found in Varetta’s temple. “We found this. I’m sure it is something of value. I thought this might be compensation enough for your help.

  He put the golden coin in Ionna’s tiny hand. It covered most of her palm.

  She stared at the coin. “This is priceless! It must be thousands of years old. Where did you find it?”

  “On my travels,” Whit said, “but in Perisia. I was going to give it to the king, but I think you would appreciate it more.”

  Tears welled up in her eyes. “This is in perfect condition.” She held up her hand to keep Whit from saying anything. “I know it is genuine for I’ve seen sketches of similar coins in ancient handwritten books. When I die, I will give it to my nephew.”

  “The king?” Argien asked.

  Ionna nodded. “Proller. I’m not in line for the throne, but,” she put a finger to her lips, “this is so valuable it should be a secret for now, so don’t go blabbing it about.”

  “We won’t,” Argien said.

  Whit felt warm inside. Giving the coin to Ionna to relish for the r
est of her life seemed the right thing to do, and watching the look on her face, he knew his gesture was perfect.

  They left the woman’s cottage and flew back toward Garri.

  “You never showed me the coin before,” Argien said as they flew over the capital’s walls

  “Gambol and Pin have seen it,” Whit said. “I thought I’d need to use it for bargaining with King Quiller, but I know it’s in more appreciative hands.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  ~

  Deechie barged in while the team was eating their final dinner at the inn.

  “I heard you were leaving. You didn’t tell me,” the human said accusingly.

  “You should know the reason why,” Gambol said. “We have sent a letter to the head of the university informing her that we have voted you out. All your ethical violations were explained in detail.”

  Deechie was about to say something, but he paused when he heard Gambol’s revelation.

  “I asked her to forward an enclosed copy to the dean of the College of Magic to make sure we weren’t going around their backs.”

  “And if they reject your action, which they will?” Deechie said.

  “Then they do, and our participation in the contest is over.” Gambol stood and looked up into the human’s eyes. “We all have agreed to move forward, contest or not.”

  “You can’t possibly do this!” Deechie said, his voice increasing in volume betraying his desperation.

  Whit stood, as well. “We can and we will. You can still follow us. I honestly don’t see how losing you will make our team any more effective, unless you’ve been scheming to steal all the parts when they’ve been collected.”

  Deechie turned red. “I wouldn’t do anything like that.”

  The lie was so poorly told that the team laughed at the human.

  “Return to the team that you really lead and leave us to our meal,” Gambol said.

  Deechie clenched his fists, turned red, and was about to say something, but he turned and stomped out of the inn.

  “Now, how did he know we were leaving in the morning?” Razz said as soon as Deechie left the inn.

  “He bribed the innkeeper or someone in the stables, most likely,” Zarl said. “Who else would know?”

  “The kitchen staff?” Yetti asked.

  “That might be money wasted, and the Deechie that I know wouldn’t waste a penny,” Whit said. “I think Zarl is right. I don’t know what good it will do unless we return to Garri, but I’d think we can ask a few questions.”

  When the dinner was finished and everyone returned to their rooms to finish packing, Whit went to find the innkeeper.

  “You’ll be ready to leave after an early breakfast tomorrow?” The innkeeper asked.

  “At long last,” Whit said. “We’ve imposed on your inn for long enough.”

  “Not at all. Your money is good, and you’ve been excellent customers.”

  Whit was about to ask him about Deechie when the innkeeper continued.

  “Your friends from Herringbone have decided to take your rooms,” the innkeeper said. “I hope they are as nice a lot as you are.”

  “And who did you deal with from that group.”

  “The human…Greeb Deechie is his name. I thought he was your leader, but he did all the arranging for the other group. He seemed eager to stay here. Deechie told me that he felt awkward with the two groups sharing the same inn. He said you are competitors.”

  “We are competitors and rivals,” Whit said. “I don’t want to speak ill of them, but they might not show up. So far their strategy has been to follow us.”

  “Thank you for letting me know. I am hopeful they will arrive.”

  Whit nodded. “Of course. Thank you for your putting up with us.”

  “It isn’t often the king sits in our dining room. The increase in business has made up for everything. I wish you luck.”

  Whit smiled. The innkeeper was the source, but he was manipulated by Deechie, and that was another mark against the magic college team.

  ~

  Pin sat with Whit on the driver’s box.

  “This is my first excursion with you,” the pixie said.

  “I hope it is your last,” Whit said. “We have to shake off the magic college team, or they will be sticking to us like fleas on a dog.”

  Pin laughed. “We pixies have a common spell for that.”

  “Teach it to me so I can use it on Deechie,” Whit said with a smile. “He is the flea, of course.”

  “The spell relies on misdirection. Even the flea spell relies on creating an alternate scent.”

  Whit was impressed. What magic he knew, Whit knew well, but there was so much he didn’t know. The flea spell was new to him.

  “So you have some flea bait we need to conjure?” Whit said.

  Pin grinned. “Perhaps. First, what did you learn from the lovely little Ionna Teria?”

  “Do you know her?”

  After shaking his head, Pin said, “I met her once, long, long ago when we were both young. I doubt if she would remember me. Between you and me, she wasn’t particularly pretty back then and already focusing on her scholarship. She did marry, so I’m sure Ionna found her soulmate.”

  “You know most of it. I think she believes in the saints.”

  “I believe in the saints, but the question is what kind of saints do either of us believe in.”

  Whit was surprised. “I thought no one believed anymore. There is no saint worship in Herringbone.”

  “Just because most people don’t think of the saints doesn’t mean they never existed. I know they did. You talked to one, as I recall.”

  “I didn’t know if Gambol or you really believed me,” Whit said.

  “I’ve always known they were around, but there are different interpretations of what they did. They weren’t gods. In my mind, gods are immortal, and the saints disappeared.”

  “Is their disappearance the reason no one follows them?” Whit asked.

  Pin nodded. “Can you think of a reason that is so simple?”

  “No,” Whit said. “But there were whole religions built on the saints.”

  “Do you think the saints sat around figuring out how they were going to be worshipped?”

  Whit raised his eyebrows. “I’ve never thought about it.”

  “The different folk decided what worked for them. The religions were the product of the worshippers, not the saints. I think saints did whatever they did and let the folk do the rest. When they left, it must have been obvious enough that the worshipping stopped.” Pin shrugged. “I wasn’t there, but I don’t worship ancient history.”

  “I suppose I don’t either,” Whit said, but he didn’t know how to classify his vision. He wondered if the loss of the Augur’s Eye had caused the saints to lose confidence because the evil magician, according to Ionna, revealed something about the future and that caused the saints to leave. Whit wondered if that would have been a self-fulfilling prophecy, but the Augur’s Eye supposedly allowed the operator to glimpse the future, so it wouldn’t be a prophecy, but a view of what was to happen. Something had to have happened, but as Pin said, at this point, it was ancient history. Whit’s intent was to resurrect some ancient history. At this point, he had to put aside the bigger questions and focus on the little things, like how to do some misdirection. “Ionna said that we should lure them to poke around the council building. Can we do that?”

  “Maybe we should create another artifact,” Pin said. “Nothing will keep the magic college team occupied like seeing a little success.”

  “Are they stupid enough to be fooled twice?” Whit asked.

  “Did Deechie ever say the pot was a fake?” Pin said with a sly smile.

  Whit frowned. “He might not say anything either way.”

  “What do you have to lose?”

  Whit’s frown turned into a smile. “I think we have a plan.”

  “Now all you have to do is find something that would pass as a par
t and have one of your gnomish friends make it.”

  ~

  Whit stared at the shaped bar of metal. It wasn’t very big, maybe the length of his hand, with a curve.

  “What is it?” Whit asked.

  Fistian grinned. “It’s a control arm on a threshing machine. Perisian pixies make their own design, so it is very doubtful our rivals will recognize it. Gambol and I found a local blacksmith who makes threshers, and he was happy to help us, for a generous tip.”

  Whit smiled. “A generous tip, eh?”

  Fistian nodded. “He had the same solution that I used in Willet’s Bay to give the metal a rainbow finish so that it looks enough like Pott’s part. Gambol and I took over and made it look old. We have one more step.”

  “Which is?” Whit asked.

  “Encase it in mud, but we will have to do that on site so we can use the same soil,” Fistian said.

  Whit handed the work of art back. “It’s better than the pot.”

  “Thank you. We can leave for Old Garri now?”

  “Old Garri?” Whit asked.

  “That is what the locals call the old capital.”

  Whit shook his head. Ionna could have told him that, but she didn’t. Was every pixie playing games with them?

  ~

  Whit didn’t like camping at the site, but Gambol and Pin thought that it would make their search look more genuine. After a few days of digging holes, Razz held up a chunk of dirt, and then everyone had to look excited. Whit considered Gambol and Pin as directors of a play. Everyone played their part to perfection.

  Argien flew to a pub to get some drinks to celebrate, making sure his route there and back was extended to identify where Deechie and the magic college team hid. “They are to the west of us in the stand of little trees,” he said as he delivered the beverages.

  “Time to celebrate!” Whit said as loud as he could without shouting. He approached the digging site and picked up the dirt-encrusted agricultural part. Whit poured ale over the mud and cleaned it off with a cloth, revealing the rainbow color. The color had a different hue than Pott’s, but if someone had a verbal description of each, it would be much the same.

  “Will they bite?” Zarl asked quietly, picking up the part and pouring water over the artifact and cleaning it more thoroughly. Gambol told him to lift it to his eye to examine, so their rivals could get an idea of what the part looked like.