A Crucible of Souls (Book One of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence) (Volume 1) Paperback

by Mitchell Hogan

  Miranda favored him with a smile as she approached from across the street, pausing to avoid a group of children running past.

  “How are you?” she asked, touching his arm. “Come on,” she said before he mustered a reply. “Let’s get going so we can get our business out of the way and enjoy the day.”

  “I’m well, apart from being sore. What have you been up to?”

  “This and that. More this than that.” She grinned mischievously. “I managed to secure a deal that might make some ducats, if it works out.”

  Caldan laughed. Miranda was always up to something. “Good. At least one of us has the sense to make an honest living.”

  “I didn’t say it was honest, and what do you mean? Have you fallen into some dishonest coins since we last met?”

  “Not exactly, but I could have been in a lot of trouble.” He explained the night at the Yawning Rabbit.

  Miranda doubled over with laughter. “Sounds like this Izak is a character, albeit someone you might want to watch yourself with.”

  “That’s what I think. He didn’t act stable at all. I think he likes taking risks.”

  “And living life to the full. Still, it worked out well for you in the end.”

  “Better than you think,” he said with a grin.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to tell you about the Lady Felicienne.”

  Miranda gave him a cool look. “You met a lady?”

  “Yes, at the Yawning Rabbit.”

  Miranda examined her nails. “Really? How nice for you. Was she pretty?”

  “What? I guess so.” At her deepening frown, Caldan swallowed. Was she jealous? “She was the one I played Dominion with. She works for the emperor and has access to information.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  “Since I won, she’s now in my debt.”

  “Really?”

  “That was the bet we made. If I win then she helps me.”

  “And if you lost?”

  “I’m not sure… I kind of left it open…”

  “Caldan, that’s risky! She could have asked anything of you!” She eyed him, and a faint blush rose to her cheeks. “I’ve heard those ladies can be quite forward.”

  “It all worked out in the end. And I made a few ducats, so it ended well.”

  “Does that mean dinner is on the cards soon?”

  “When I find a suitable place.”

  “You have no idea where to go, do you?”

  “Not really,” he admitted with a smile.

  “Well, I’m not going to help you. Ask around the masters. I’m sure they know a few places that serve decent food.”

  “Good advice. I’ll take it.”

  “I’m always full of good advice.”

  “Whether people want it or not?”

  “Exactly. If they don’t listen, at least I tried.” She stopped and took hold of his chin, turning his cheek towards her. “Elpidia knows her stuff. The scar has faded nicely, and it hasn’t been long. Remind me to see her if I ever need to have something stitched.”

  “How likely is that?”

  “You only took a few days, so more likely than you think.”

  They ducked into another side street as up ahead two carts blocked their way, amid loud protestations from both drivers and a vocal crowd. Soon Caldan could smell the sea and caught glimpses of water between buildings as they strolled down a steep street towards the harbor.

  Miranda guided them through a few turns and eventually they found themselves standing in front of a building across from the docks. Compared to many of the buildings around it, it was well maintained, with a fresh coat of whitewash on the walls. Where the building stopped, the walls continued to surround the large patch of land the trading company owned. A thick wrought iron gate stood in the middle of the wall, while bright red double doors opened into the building proper. Fixed atop the door in raised bronze letters was a sign declaring the building home to the Five Oceans Mercantile Concern.

  Miranda didn’t wait to see if he followed as she strode confidently through the open door. Caldan stepped quickly after her into the opulent interior of the building. Smooth, gray marble tiles paved the floor, and highly polished mahogany counters lined all three sides of the large entry room within. A number of employees were behind the counters, talking with people who had business there and looking busy writing in ledgers and organizing papers. Expensive crafted sorcerous globes hung on the walls every few yards, illuminating the room more than necessary. The odor of roasted coffee overlaid with spices pervaded the air, signifying large quantities of the costly products were close by.

  They both paused, awestruck at the sheer amount of ducats that had been spent to create such an impression.

  “What a waste,” Caldan muttered. “This doesn’t look like a merchants’ office. At least, it isn’t what I expected.”

  “Shhh. They aren’t just merchants,” she explained. “They loan ducats as well, and own businesses in the city. And not only Anasoma. No one knows for sure, but it’s widely believed they are the wealthiest company in the city, if not the empire.”

  “They’re a bank as well?”

  “Yes.” She stood looking around at the counters, obviously unsure of which one she needed to go to.

  “May I assist you?” came a soft voice from their left.

  Caldan turned to find a woman. Her blonde hair was tied back, and there was a bright smile on her face. “If you can tell me what you are looking for,” she said, “I can direct you to the proper counter.”

  “Um,” said Miranda. “I’m here to pay for some warehouse space, and to see Sir Quiss on a matter of some property.”

  “Excellent. I hope you’re having an enjoyable day. Please, that counter over there.” She gestured smoothly across the room to a man with spectacles signing and stamping some papers. “I’ll let someone know to inform Sir Quiss.”

  “Ah… yes, thank you. Good day to you, too.” Miranda nodded to the woman and grabbed Caldan by the arm, pulling him along with her to the counter. The lady had retreated to stand by the open doors.

  “Weird,” remarked Miranda.

  “Yes. Is her job to stand there and help people who look like they need it? Do you think she does anything else?”

  “How should I know? I would hope so. Paying someone to stand around doing nothing all day seems odd.”

  They approached the bespectacled man, but before Miranda could utter a word he spoke.

  “One moment please.” He continued to sign and stamp documents, tutting at one before placing it in a pile to his left. He removed his spectacles and rubbed his nose.

  “Now… how may I help you?” he inquired.

  “My name is Miranda, and I am here to…”

  “Ah, yes, pay for some warehouse space. Now, where is that contract?” he said half to himself and searched through one of the piles in front of him.

  “Here is the payment.” Miranda withdrew a purse and deposited it on the table. The man raised both hands to stop her.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t accept coins.”

  “I beg your pardon?” asked Miranda. “But if you don’t accept coins, how am I to pay?”

  “Oh, you’re not familiar with our process? I can’t accept coins, but the cashier over there does.” He pointed to a lady across the room counting coins, flanked by two large muscular men. “You need to pay her and receive a receipt, then bring the receipt to me.”

  Miranda sighed. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”

  The trip to the cashier to hand over the coins and receive a receipt was uneventful, but both of them shifted uncomfortably under the watchful gaze of the large men positioned to protect the lady from any attempts at theft. Sizing the men up, Caldan didn’t think anyone in their right mind would take them on.

  As they were re-crossing the room, Miranda remarked to Caldan, “Professional operation they have here.”

  It didn’t look professional to him. Why not h
ave the person you were dealing with accept your ducats? “What do you mean?”

  “Only a few people handle the ducats, so it’s harder to steal.”

  “Oh, I thought they were being difficult.”

  Miranda gave him a scornful look. “You wouldn’t stay in business long if you did things to be deliberately difficult.”

  Back with the bespectacled man, Miranda handed over the receipt, and after signing the contract he stamped the document and moved it to a different pile.

  “I’m here to see Sir Quiss as well,” said Miranda. “The lady over there said she would have word sent to him.”

  The man nodded and gestured to a group of padded chairs around a highly polished table. “Be seated, and he’ll be out shortly. I’m afraid your gentleman friend here will not be able to join you, unless he also has direct business with Sir Quiss.”

  “No, he doesn’t.” She turned to Caldan. “You’ll be all right waiting here?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good. Let’s sit down and wait.”

  In the middle of the table sat a bowl of sweets individually wrapped in waxy brown paper. Caldan helped himself to a couple and popped one in his mouth. Miranda sat next to him and rubbed her hands together.

  “Good,” remarked Caldan. “Like solid honey and spices. You should try one.”

  “I’m too nervous. My palms are sweaty, and I can’t very well rub them on my dress.”

  Caldan chuckled at her.

  She glared at him, then her expression softened. “This is important. If it goes well… let’s just say I will have done well. And Sir Quiss, he is also the contact I mentioned to you. Merchants such as these have access to a great deal of information and have vast resources to be able to find almost anything out.”

  “You think they could help me trace my trinket?”

  “I believe so. They have… leverage… with most of the nobles and other merchants. There isn’t much they couldn’t do if they turn their mind to it. I didn’t mention trinkets, just that you were after information.”

  A figure emerged from a door behind the counter.

  Caldan saw a man, who was not quite a man. He looked denser than ordinary men, as if he didn’t fit in the space he occupied. Harder. His hand squeezed Miranda’s arm unconsciously.

  “Ow! Don’t do that!”

  He blinked and the man appeared normal this time, as if Caldan’s eyes had played a trick on him.

  The strange man spoke briefly to the bespectacled man, who motioned in their direction.

  “Miranda, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  “What? Why? I won’t be long.”

  He pulled her close and whispered. “I… don’t have a good feeling about this.”

  “Pish,” she said, rejecting his inept explanation. “Don’t have a good feeling. I need this.” She broke free from his grasp and stood, smiling as the man approached.

  Caldan stood as well, eyeing the man, who stopped and bowed curtly to Miranda and nodded to Caldan.

  “Luphildern Quiss,” he announced in a curious melodic accent Caldan hadn’t heard before. “Head Trader for the Five Oceans Mercantile Concern, and before you ask, one of many.” A fleeting smile crossed his face. “And you are Miss Miranda, I believe.”

  She held out her hand. “Yes, I am. Pleased to meet you.”

  Sir Quiss looked at her hand for a moment before extending his own. Caldan sucked in a breath between his teeth. They shook hands.

  Nothing happened.

  “And I’m pleased to meet you, Miss Miranda. Please, come with me. I’m afraid your gentleman friend will have to wait here.”

  Quiss locked eyes with him, a look of such intensity and startling penetration that left Caldan feeling stripped bare.

  He ripped his gaze away, breaking contact in reflex. Quiss half-turned and gestured for Miranda to precede him through the door from which he had appeared.

  “Thank you,” she said and turned to Caldan. “I shouldn’t be long. Don’t eat too many sweets.”

  Caldan shook his head minutely. Don’t go! His look shouted at her, as though he could communicate his urgency with one expressive glance. Sweat prickled his skin.

  She frowned at him and her expression became annoyed. “I won’t be long,” she said again and turned to walk across the room and through the door, followed closely by Quiss, whatever he was.

  Caldan blinked, and again the man looked denser, harder. His eyes burned and he rubbed them quickly. Quiss remained the same this time, like a stain on the fabric of reality, rent and twisted. The scent of rotten fruit reached Caldan’s nostrils.

  Caldan swallowed a mouthful of honeyed spice. By the ancestors, what was going on? He glanced around the room. Everyone else looked normal. Maybe he was seeing things, or perhaps he was too tired. No, something was wrong. Quiss wasn’t a man, or was a man but something else as well.

  Caldan sat and folded his arms, staring at the door Miranda had disappeared through. She’d better come out soon, he thought or… or what? Rush in and rescue her? Miranda obviously couldn’t see anything different about the man, so why could he?

  The padded chair felt uncomfortable, and he squirmed while chewing a fingernail. The wait dragged on. Something strange was happening here, and while he had no idea what it was or where to start looking, Quiss had to be the key. He growled in frustration and half-stood before sitting down again. It was likely the security here would stop him from going through the door.

  It felt like hours passed before eventually the door opened and Miranda walked through followed by Sir Quiss. She looked normal, with a smile plastered on her face. Caldan sighed heavily in relief, though he didn’t know what he had expected to happen. He’d just felt that something was wrong.

  They joined him by the table, Miranda looking pleased with herself and Sir Quiss hovering expectantly.

  “I believe our business is concluded, Miss Miranda,” stated Quiss. “And your escort is the gentleman you told me about, the one looking for information?”

  “Yes, of course. Caldan… um, do you want to explain to Sir Quiss?”

  Caldan froze for a moment. This wasn’t good. He couldn’t bring himself to show his trinket to this man. He thought furiously. “Ah… yes…” he managed to say. “Actually, I find myself in an awkward position. The Lady Felicienne has been good enough to agree to assist me. I’m afraid I didn’t have a chance to let Miranda know. I apologize for the misunderstanding.” By the time he was finished, Miranda was glaring at him, red-faced and tight-lipped.

  Quiss bobbed his head in a short bow. “I know of her. She should serve you well. Then, if that is all, I bid both of you good day.”

  “Yes, again I apologize. It was thoughtless of me.”

  “Yes, it was,” growled Miranda.

  Quiss shook his head. “No harm done. Farewell.” He turned and strode away.

  Caldan grabbed Miranda’s arm.

  “Are you all right?” he whispered.

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Didn’t you see the way he looked?”

  “What do you mean? He was… normal.”

  Caldan stuck his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. “No, he wasn’t. He was different. I could see he didn’t belong. That’s why I didn’t want to ask about my trinket.”

  Miranda frowned at him then laughed. “Don’t be silly, there’s nothing wrong with him. Just a senior merchant doing business.” She looked at him with worry. “Are you coming down with a fever?”

  “No. I’m not.” Caldan shuffled his feet, unsure how to explain to her what he had seen. Maybe it was a trick of the light. He shook his head. “Never mind,” he said reluctantly.

  She looked at the empty bowl, which had been full of sweets. “Hungry, were you?”

  Caldan went red. “I thought the other apprentices might like some.” He patted two full pockets.”

  She gave him a disappointed look. “You don’t do things like that. They are for
people who are waiting.”

  “I was waiting,” he protested.

  “But… oh never mind.” She made a show of massaging her temples, breathing out heavily through her nose.

  “This place is unsettling. Can we leave soon?” He wanted to get out as soon as possible. He needed time to think on what he had seen.

  “Well, I guess we’re both finished. We can go now.” She latched onto his arm and pulled him towards the door to the street, but Caldan didn’t budge. His eyes were glued on the door.

  “Oof! You’re heavy. I couldn’t move you an inch. Come on.”

  He fell into step beside her. She clutched his arm and drew close to him.

  Caldan hurried along with her, feeling a palpable sense of relief after they exited the building. Miranda continued at a fast pace he was only too happy to keep up with, since it meant more distance between them and Quiss.

  After he arrived back, Caldan made a quick detour to the apprentices’ dormitory. To their delight, he emptied his pockets of sweets, leaving a few for himself, since they were delicious. Begging off from a surprise overture to stay and spend some time with them, he trudged back to his room, feet dragging and distractedly using the rails on the stairs where he would normally step up them two at a time without pause.

  Caldan lay awake, running through the day’s events over and over, the meeting with Quiss foremost in his mind.

  Sleep was a long time coming and when it did was fitful.

  He woke to twisted sweat-stained sheets, bleary-eyes and a headache.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Far from a genteel man, Bees, a purveyor of information, as he called himself, likened the information trade to venereal disease. Rumors churned through the streets, winding their way down alleys, across rivers, to markets, into homes, snaking their insidious ever-changing forms through the ears and mouths of the populace. Clamor and noise, their ability to arouse and titillate, to exhort their chosen victims, ensured their transfer.