The Scofflaw Magician (The Artifactor Book 3)

by Honor Raconteur

  “Ah, I see. It is three months old. Anything older and we use it for smaller, less important items.”

  Three months or younger would mean it still had its full potency. So it would have a five rating. The spring water of course would have an eight, especially in Fae territory. The Fae blood had a seven. Any dyes they used should have a one or two. Sevana picked up three of the vials that held dyes in them, examining each. Blue, red, yellow, all from natural sources. So yes, they would have a one. She picked up the last vial and held it up, then almost dropped it as the smell came to her. It smelled like the sea, and tar, and this undefinable near-stench that she had only ever encountered with one creature.

  “You have kraken ink?!”

  “It is somewhat difficult to attain,” Forus admitted. He seemed pleased she could recognize that too at a glance. “But our brethren on the southern shores will barter with us and we often get vials from them.”

  Sevana found that woefully unfair. “Do you think they’ll trade with me too?” She hadn’t meant for that question to come out wistfully.

  Aran choked on a laugh, lifting a fist to try to disguise his smile. “I’m sure they will. Sellion.”

  Oh, right, she was now an adopted member of the Fae. So she could do things like trade with them. Sevana beamed at the thought. Oh, the things she could make with the right ingredients.

  “Focus,” Aran advised, still trying not to laugh. “Daydream later.”

  Screwing up her mouth in a sideways frown, she put the vial of kraken ink back down. “At any rate, this has a seven as well. Forus, that is all of the ingredients?”

  “It is. Do you need a vial of the water?”

  “I will before I leave,” she admitted. “But not right at this moment. So, added up all together…” Leaning over the table, she flipped to a clean page in the journal and started doing some very complicated mathematics. Not wanting to make a stupid mistake, she went back over it twice before she was satisfied. “Each piece individually, when added, is thirty-two. But of course we’ll lose most of that power because of the way each element chemically reacts to the others. I’m assuming something about the way you mix and process the ink stabilizes the elements into a more cohesive form?”

  “It does.”

  “Which is how the final, usable version of the ink is a seven in power rating.” Sevana rubbed at her chin, staring hard at the numbers. “This is scary. The way he crafted his spell, it was as if he knew exactly what the elements were in the ink and how to best take advantage of them.”

  “But how could he know?”

  “That is a very good question.” Sevana didn’t look up from the pages, staring blankly downward for several more seconds. She had a feeling just knowing the elements that made up the ink wasn’t enough. It was nothing more than gut instinct—she didn’t have anything to back it up with—but she had this notion that she’d need to know exactly how the ink was made. The ink, after all, was the lynch pin to this whole thing. Making a snap decision, she looked up.

  “Forus, might I impose on you a while longer? I want to do some experiments here, so that if I have more questions, you’re at hand to answer them.”

  “That is fine,” he assured her. Not quite off-handedly he added, “You will let us watch? We wish to understand more of human magic.”

  “I think that would be wise, actually. The more you understand, the more you can human-proof your storerooms.”

  He gave her a smile that would not be out of place on a cat’s face. “Exactly so. You will need a place to work?”

  “A quiet, uncluttered place would be ideal.” She’d do her best to not make things explode while testing. None of these ingredients were particularly volatile, so the odds were slim, but sometimes the unexpected happen. They were called accidents for a reason.

  Aran helped her pick up the ingredients, as her bag was stuffed full at this point. Sevana, in her rush to get out the door, hadn’t the time to unearth one of her never-ending bags. It was something she was kicking herself about now.

  They left the building, Forus petted his komodo dragons, and then he led them away from the center of the village or town or whatever the Fae called it. As he took them onto yet another unfamiliar path, he slowed so that he was more in step with her. “Several times, I have seen you use a device that you lift to your eye.”

  The question was unspoken but clear in his tone. Sevana had done nothing but ask questions for the past hour and he had been forthright about the answers. It behooved her to do the same. “My box lens. I haven’t thought of a better name for it yet. It’s a new invention of mine. I seem to be doing a lot of curse breaking, and the usual way of doing an investigation is to use my diagnostic wand. But that’s cumbersome, it requires both hands and clean paper to write on, which I don’t always have. So I created the lens.” Seeing she still had his interest, she broke it down even further. “The two smaller lenses at the bottom act as a diagnostic wand and analyze everything, but the information it finds is displayed on the larger lens that’s near my eye. I can read the information that way.”

  “Like you did earlier. I see.” Forus seemed pleased to have some of his curiosity satisfied.

  Aran, at her other side, couldn’t help but join in. “You speak much of power levels. There is more mathematics involved in human magic than I imagined.”

  Sevana couldn’t help but laugh softly at this. “Oh, even humans have no idea how much math is involved. By the time an Artifactor has completely developed a product, all they have to do is flip a switch or speak a command and it works. They know nothing of the mechanics of it. Even most magicians couldn’t tell you. But there’s quite a bit of mathematics and science involved, more than people would guess. That’s why Artifactors are rare—try finding someone that has the head for mathematics, science, mythology, languages, and craftsmanship that just so happens to have some magical talent.”

  There was a strange, unreadable expression on Aran’s face as he looked at her. “And yet you are a prodigy in your field.”

  Sevana tried not to smirk too broadly. “I am.” She’d let them draw their own conclusions.

  “Is that why the human kings come to you for help?”

  That was an understandable assumption to jump to, considering what she had been doing the past year and a half, but— “No, actually, I haven’t been asked for help even once by the kings. I seem to just fall into the situation. With Bel, I went and kidnapped him.”

  Both Fae made the same sound of choked surprise, which amused her.

  “I’m not exaggerating,” she assured them. “I really did break into the palace and kidnap him. Granted, he was willing to be kidnapped. And then we snuck in again and kidnapped his father, because he was also a prisoner under a curse, and while they rewarded me nicely for it afterwards, neither of them asked for my help in the beginning. This latest situation with Sa Kao was another time I chanced into it because they were making a mess in my backyard, but it wasn’t until I showed up and volunteered that Princess Farah requested my help.”

  Aran’s face screwed up in a confused frown. “But why would they not to think to go to you?”

  “My guess? Because I’m new. I’m well known among the other Artifactors and various magicians, but not the general population. Not yet, anyway. I’ve only been in business…hmm, four years I think. It takes time for the word to spread. Most people still call on my master first, as he’s been in the business for decades now and is known to be good.”

  “Who is your master?” Forus asked.

  “Tashjian Joles.”

  Forus blinked, looking at her as if he was sure she was pulling his leg.

  That reaction made her ask slowly, “You know him?”

  “Indeed I do.” A reminiscent smile came over Forus’s face. “This was many years ago, when he was still a young man, but a rogue magician had blundered into our territory. He came to us and politely asked for an escort through so he could catch the man and haul him back. We were ca
utious at first—such a story has been given to us before, usually as a ploy so that one partner can try to rob us while the other leads us on a merry chase. But he proved to be truthful. He did exactly as he said he would, then gave us a fine present as thanks for our help before he left again. We remember him as an honest man.”

  Now why hadn’t Master mentioned this little story to her? It would have been nice to know. Maybe he thought the Fae wouldn’t remember the incident? No, surely not. The Fae had memories that would put an elephant to shame.

  “So you are his student.” Forus gave a sage nod. “Now is much explained.”

  Sevana decided to take that as a compliment.

  Forus took them around a slight bend in the trail and then stopped in front of a round looking building. Instead of branches, this one was made of thick vine-like bushes that spread up and over, tangling themselves to form sturdy walls. When she stepped through the oblong opening, she found that the inside had those stone tables that seemed to sprout out of the ground. It was clear aside from the tables with a thick moss floor that smelled heavenly. She could hear water running nearby so there had to be a stream behind or to the side of the building somewhere.

  Seeing that Forus was waiting on her reaction, she assured him, “This is perfect. Um, how far am I away from everyone else?”

  “Some distance away, but not far.” Forus’s tone had a Why are you asking note to it.

  “Don’t approach this place carelessly,” she requested, making her voice as firm as possible. “While experimenting and analyzing elements, sometimes things go very wrong, and I’ve been known to have explosions.”

  Forus’s mouth dropped. “Ex-explosions?”

  “I don’t expect it to happen here,” she assured him absently, her mind already switching over to work mode. “Nothing you handed me has a volatile nature. But just in case, call out a greeting before you get too close.”

  “I will stay,” Aran stated.

  Sevana paused in unpacking her bag and looked at him sideways. “You think you can stop an explosion from occurring?”

  He gave her that enigmatic smile that suggested he was not about to answer that question fully. “Do not worry, Forus.”

  Forus did look relieved that someone would be nearby to throw a bucket of water on her if things went south. Really, the man’s imagination was blowing this out of proportion. It wasn’t like Sevana would set the whole forest ablaze. At the most, it would be just this section.

  Shrugging, she didn’t let this paranoia bother her, and went back to unpacking everything in her bag. “Alright, let’s get to work.”

  Half the elements of Fae ink were ones that Sevana knew well. She did a surface level testing of them, found the results she expected, and moved on. It was the rest that she focused on intently.

  Especially the Fae blood.

  Aran, for the most part, sat cross-legged on the ground out of her way and just looked on. Sometimes he grabbed one of her journals and read through it, asking her a question when he felt it safe to interrupt her. But he never once got in her way. Sevana adored people that could read the situation like he could and knew when to be in her space and when to leave her be. Men like him had long life expectancies because of that skill.

  Sevana spent a full day on the blood alone and didn’t get anywhere closer to an answer than she had at the very beginning. Frustrated, she threw her wand down and pointed an outraged finger at the sample lying on the glass dish. “What is this?!”

  Glancing up from the journal in his lap, Aran drawled, “Blood.”

  “Blood isn’t blood,” she shot back, temper flaring. Nine hours of working on an unsolvable problem had made her usual patience disintegrate. “It’s a mixture of blood cells, water, sugar, fat, protein, minerals, and salt.”

  The man had the gall to blink up at her as if he had never heard this before. “Really?”

  Sevana grabbed the nearest non-lethal object and chucked it at his head. Aran, laughing, dodged and caught it in a free hand before levering himself up to his feet long enough to put it back on the stone table.

  Infuriating man. He just sat there with all of these answers while watching her work her brain to the point of overloading. “You know what Fae blood is made of.”

  “I know what I’ve been told. I think it will take one of our Mothers to answer your question more fully, as they are the ones that are responsible for turning a human child into Fae.” Aran handed her the journal. “Every Fae child is told that we are a gestalt of the world around us. Our blood comes from the pure water underground, our sight from the sun itself, our air from the wind, our flesh from the clay of the ground.”

  She would have dismissed this as the ravings of an unhinged mind but the Fae were truly magical, to the point that every diagnostic tool she had maintained their blood was a cohesive substance that was pure magic. There was very limited data on even how to categorize it. But if she took his words to be literal truth, then how did their physical makeup become like this? How did a human body, made of chemicals and bones and tissue, get transformed into something that more resembled a collection of earthen elements?

  “Don’t think too hard about it,” Aran advised, “because it will make your brain bleed.”

  “Literally?”

  “Don’t know, I don’t think too hard about it. Follow my example. It’s a good example.”

  Growling, she put her back to the table and leaned against it. Her brain was tired of going in circles, her eyes ached from staring through a lens too long, and she was fighting fatigue in her lower back. Probably because she had been bent over a worktable most of the day. “I think,” she announced generally to the world, “that I will go soak in your hot springs and analyze the water.”

  “Still planning to do that?”

  “That, at least, has an easy answer waiting for me.” And she’d find a way to duplicate it and install one in Big. She wouldn’t rest until she managed it.

  From the very back of the table, her Caller stirred with a familiar sing-song voice. “Sevana~”

  Sighing, Sevana put her bath on a temporary hold and moved the Caller so it was on the edge of the table and more visible. “Yes, Kip.”

  “I’ve gone through every art market possible and I think I’ve found all of the portraits.”

  “How many more did you find?”

  “Three more. They look much older than the recent ones. But! The reason I’m calling is that I found the princess’s portrait.”

  Sevana punched a victorious fist into the air. “YES!”

  “I knew that would make your day.” Morgan sounded completely pleased with himself, as he should be.

  “Where in the world was it, anyway?”

  “A fine arts collector had it squirreled away. It wasn’t until we started searching known collector’s rooms that we found it. Even then, the man’s hands had to be pried off. Collectors are scary.”

  “Truly.” Sevana did not envy him the job of wresting back that portrait but she was very glad that he’d managed it. “None of the portraits were damaged in any way?”

  “No. I made sure to wrap them well before shipping them too, don’t worry.”

  Sevana’s mind screeched to a stop. “Wait. You SHIPPED them?!”

  “Aren’t you the one that told me not to send them through the clocks?”

  “Yes, I did, but I didn’t think you’d send them off without going along either!”

  “Oh.” She could tell from the sheepish look on the Caller’s face that Morgan only now realized that might be a bad idea. “In my defense, I was left unsupervised.”

  “Kiiiiip,” she growled between clenched teeth, “if you have to track those portraits down again, or anything happens to them, I’m coming after your hide.”

  “I’m tired and making sloppy decisions, I’m not an idiot. It’s under royal escort by the Sa Kaon Royal Guard directly to Big.”

  “Wait, you made it sound as if you just put it on the back of a courier’s hors
e. It’s under royal guard?”

  “Of course. You think the royal parents here are going to take any risks with their daughter? Princess Farah herself is overseeing it taken to Big.”

  “That’s entirely different than you made it sound like initially.” Sevana blew out a breath. Sometimes talking to Morgan gave her minor panic attacks. The man was bad for her heart. “Good. It should be safe enough that way. When are they due to arrive?”

  “In four days.”

  “You’ve updated Master?”

  “I can’t call you and him with updates. Not enough magic. You’ll have to call him. You’re making progress up there?”

  “Technically, yes, but I’m still finding enough stumbling blocks that it feels like I’m not. There’s not enough magic in your mini-Caller to give you a full update. I’ll do so when we meet back up at Big.” Pausing, she tried to think of anything she needed to tell him. Nothing leapt to mind. “Short version is, I know the elements of the ink now, so half the puzzle is solved. When I’ve completed my analysis, I’ll be able to start working on the counter.”

  “Good. I’m still in Sa Kao, can I report that?”

  “Yes. Also tell them that while this was done with Fae ink, it was done without Fae knowledge. Someone broke into here and stole the ink from their stores. They’re very, very upset about this. If they ask who, it’s the same magician that cast the curse on Bel and Aren.”

  Morgan let out a low whistle. “What is he, a king assassin?”

  “It’s looking that way. But pass all of that along. Tell them I’ll be up here several more days getting the rest of the information that I need, but then I’ll be back at Big.”

  “Is Master still at Big?”

  “Of course. I’m feeding him information as I get it.” Although she was due to give him another update today. After her bath she’d do so.

  “What do you need me to do now?”

  “After updating the royals? Not a thing, I don’t think. I don’t have enough information to plan out a counter to this spell yet. When I do, that’s when I can hand out marching orders.”