In Pursuit Of Wisdom (Book 1)

by Steve M. Shoemake

  Silverfist shook his head. “That isn’t how it works in the Black Guild, Xaro. Unlike our brethren in the Thief’s Guild who view it as good sport to cheat the Guild their due, that doesn’t happen in the Black Guild. We always get our cut. Always. And something else you should know about Assassins, Xaro.” He swirled the remaining wine in his ostentatious glass before draining it, fruit and all. “They are loyal to their contract. You will find Veronica will kill exclusively for you as long as you have two things: enemies and gold. The minute you run out of either is the minute that she will be working on other contracts. It is the nature of our work, Xaro.”

  “First things first. I want to speak with this Veronica myself.”

  Magi

  As he packed for the long trip to Shith, Magi recalled this modest deception of his Master with a sly grin, wondering if this is the kind of thing the Ol’ Shakoor would have seen if she could have lifted his prophecy. Probably not—prophets are focused on the future, not the past, right?

  A knock on the door brought him out of his reverie. “Come in,” he said as he continued slotting items and spell components based on necessity. He knew without looking up that Kyle’s sister had just entered. A fragrant smell of lavender and vanilla seemed to fill the room.

  “Hello, Magi. Were you going to say goodbye?” He finally looked up at Kari. Lovely. How does she get her hair to smell like that?

  “Hi Kari. I was hoping I’d get a chance to see you. Come sit down.” She walked through the doorway and sat down on the couch, where Magi joined her. She put her hand on Magi’s.

  Kari looked at him with those brilliant green eyes of hers. “I was hoping to see you too. I’m a little worried. This is a long trip.” Then: “I’d like to join you.”

  “That would be fantastic, Kari. But you know Marik would never allow it.”

  “I do know that, because I’ve already asked. What I don’t know is why is he allowing my brother to tag along? And to leave in such a hurry…”

  “Kyle has convinced him that his prophecy has something to do with my prophecy—or at least the finding out of my prophecy. That’s why he’s coming.”

  “Or he’s coming because he’s your best friend. How does Marik know whether my prophecy or Tarsh’s or Nugget’s or Skylar’s or even Ragor’s prophecy isn’t bound up in your destiny? It’s not like Kyle can tell Marik his prophecy, is it?” She stood up and threw her hands up in disgust. “And why is your destiny so much more important than anyone else’s—he doesn’t personally lead expeditions to the Ol’ Shakoor every month, now does he? But now he can leave the school to guide you two for what—months?” She wasn’t raising her voice, but then she never needed too, either.

  Magi knew that tone in her voice. “What do you want me to do, Kari? Tell Kyle he has to stay? Tell Marik I’m not interested in going if you don’t join us?” Probably the wrong thing to say. He quickly softened his tone. “Why do you really want to come with us, Kari? Your own prophecy is due to be read in a month.”

  Kari took a slow step toward Magi. “Maybe I wanted to join you because I’m tired of spending day-after-day in this dreary village. Is it so hard for you to understand that maybe—just maybe—I’m ready to begin living my life? There’s a world out there that I want to see, Magi. I’m done with Brigg; I’m done with Fostler, where I was born. These villages are all I’ve seen, where soap actually constitutes a prize worth fighting over.” She closed her eyes and cast a spell against the far wall, a brilliant illusion of brightly colored rainbow across a city of marble, with stone roads and fresh water pouring from mountain streams, and marketplace bazaars where people were gathered en masse to haggle and trade and listen to bards playing music in the city square. It was a breathtaking panorama of thriving city. “I want to see Tenebrae, Magi. Right now all I have is my imagination and illusion.”

  Magi took her hands in his. “You will, Kari. I just don’t think it will be this trip.” He looked up into her eyes. “But I will promise you this: when I come back, which will likely be in a couple months, we’ll go see Elvidor together. We’ll both have our prophecies by then, and even though we won’t be able to share them with one another, we can talk about…the future. We’ll leave Marik’s school and figure out what we want to do about the Staircase while we see the wider world. Maybe even see the land east of the mountains—maybe we can travel as far as the Rookwood itself! How does that sound?”

  Kari smiled and gently withdrew her hands, as she took a step towards the doorway. “And you are so sure you’ll come back. Magi—you go have your adventure with my brother. If and when you return, maybe I’ll be here. Maybe I won’t. I don’t need a prophet to tell me that my destiny lies outside this village.” She turned to leave, but paused one last time framed in the doorway. “And I don’t need anyone’s permission to stay or leave as I see fit, either. My destiny is my own. Maybe someone will tell you yours. Goodbye, Magi.” She pulled the door shut without a second look.

  Magi just stared at the far wall, as the illusion of her ideal city slowly faded back into unremarkable grey stone and clay.

  Magi

  Magi, Kyle, Marik, and a Ranger named Venatus Carrion set out on horseback for the long journey to Shith to see Pilanthas. Venatus was one of the most seasoned and well-travelled Rangers in the Three Fingers. He lived in Brigg, and Marik sought him out soon after they returned from the Ol’ Shakoor. Like most Rangers, the lure of gold directed the path they would follow. “I know the way,” was all he said as Marik set a pouch of gold onto the table in front of him last night.

  They left early the next morning. A former student, Serenity Hopewell, who had climbed the Staircase three years ago, would supervise the school while Marik was gone. She was the last student of his to successfully do so. After a few words to those students who were awake, they set out. Nugget yelled to Magi, “Bring back something cool. Something Elfish!” Tarsh just waved, somewhat solemnly. Such a serious kid.

  Kari was nowhere to be seen.

  They headed out, following a mostly southeasterly course, with Venatus leading the way. They ate from their packs until late afternoon, when Venatus suggested they hunt for dinner. “These woods are full of game, and we should conserve our stores whenever possible.”

  He dismounted and let his horse roam a bit while he notched an arrow. Marik and Kyle began making camp preparations. Magi joined Venatus and also got out his bow. Venatus raised one eyebrow. “Magi-user, do not waste good arrows. Surely you can cast a spell just as easily?”

  “I can, but I prefer to hunt with a bow.” Magi looked at Venatus. He was built like Kyle—fit, lean, but not particularly imposing, physically. Though likely twice his age, Magi guessed he weighed at least 25 pounds more than his skinny guide. “A fellow Ranger, Lionel, taught me the proper way to kill an animal with my bow.”

  “Lionel would struggle to hit a deer if it was cinched to his boot. Use your magic.”

  “I’ll use a bow, if it’s all the same.” We follow, but you do not lead.

  “Very well. Loose only on my word.” Venatus slipped silently into the woods. Marik, who overheard the discussion, just smiled to himself, chuckling quietly.

  An hour later they returned, with a deer carcass levitating off the ground about a foot behind them, following them back out of the forest to camp. Venatus was glowering; one arrow was lodged in the deer’s chest, directly over the beast’s heart. They roasted the deer and ate well this first night, packaging a lot of meat for the rest of the journey. “Lucky shot,” was all the Ranger would add to the discussion.

  They continued on for a week, mostly through thin woods and relatively easy terrain. As the woods grew thinner and thinner, they approached the outskirts of a village, marked by a growing number of small farms. In the distance they saw a rather large series of tents.

  “Ma’am, what is this up ahead?” Kyle asked as the four of them trotted past a woman digging a small trench by the road.

  “It is the Fair, good son. The tra
velling Fair has come to Fostler.” She smiled and spread her arms wide toward the tents in the distance. “I don’t pay much attention to it, seeing as it’s as good a place as any to lose your gold. But on just such a night, you can hear the music from there. You’ll find whatever you need at the Fair. Keep an eye on your gold, though, would be my advice to you.” She went back to work.

  A Fair. Kyle and Magi exchanged a quick smile before Marik said, “We won’t be lingering long here, my lady—I assure you of that. Thank you for the information.” Venatus put his boots to his horse’s sides, and they picked up the pace toward the Fair.

  “One night, if only to sleep with a roof over our heads, but no longer. Venatus, find us a suitable room. Magi and Kyle, stay close to me.” They dismounted to walk their horses, given the crowds. There was a jousting tournament that Kyle was keenly interested in seeing, and an archery competition caught Magi’s eye. The alehouses were packed, and musicians were everywhere. Street artists were sketching, beggars were crying for alms, and the entire spectacle smelled of mead, human waste, roasted goat, and sweat.

  “A good rain would do wonders for this place.” Marik clearly wanted to get past this as soon as possible.

  “Master,” Kyle yelled ahead over the street noise. “If we only stay one night, I won’t be able to visit my parents. I thought we might be able to stop in and see them. They wouldn’t have room for all of us to stay, but I’m sure they could provide a proper meal. May we stay an extra day?”

  Marik looked around at the Fair and pulled his horse around to stand next to Kyle. He leaned into Kyle’s ear and whispered, “No, Kyle. This place is not safe. I hope to see your parents on the way back, hopefully after the Fair has left town. But getting Magi to Shith is our priority. Please do me one favor—do not run off on your own.” With that, he turned his horse and proceeded to fight his way through the crowds. Kyle sighed and followed, with Magi next to him. Venatus was already out of view.

  Several makeshift gypsy tents dotted the landscape as well. “Magi, why not just duck your head into one of these and get your prophecy read. Save us a lot of time.” Kyle winked. “C’mon, let’s go watch the jousts. Is that ok, Master—if Magi is with me?” They led their horses through the crowds.

  “First, we must find the inn Venatus is procuring. Follow me.” Marik led them through the crowds in the main thoroughfare, bumping into people with his large horse as he cut through the revelry with a series of “pardon me, ‘scuse me, thank you, sir” and the like.

  “Watch where you’re going!” came the garbled rasp of a boy Magi had just plowed into with his horse.

  “So sorry,” was all he could say as he plodded along toward the inn. They finally caught up to Venatus and saw him outside shaking his head.

  “No room. Here or anywhere. Too many visitors for the Fair. We shall need to find a patch of grass again tonight, I imagine. There is a large stable with room, however. We can put our horses here. They could use some tending.” Venatus led them around back and they agreed to spend the afternoon here relaxing before meeting up for the evening. “At sundown, let us meet at the Harpy cage out by the stables. We’ll grab our mounts and find a spot to camp, then leave in the morning.”

  They all agreed. Venatus was drawn to the common room of the inn, presumably for its cheap ale. Marik wanted to see if Fostler had a mapmaker, and began to ask around. Kyle and Magi headed for the jousts, but despite Marik’s plea, soon split up as well. Kyle wanted to visit a gypsy, while Magi was distracted by an archery contest. They agreed to meet at the jousts in about an hour.

  The archers were lined up roughly 20 yards away from their targets, each taking turns. Silver was being exchanged in the crowd with every shot. Magi walked up to the front. “How does one enter the competition?” he asked one of the Rangers that had just sent an arrow flying.

  “See the fletcher over there? His name is Jacob. Pay your entry fee. If you win the match, you keep the fees, though I’m sure the fletcher charges a premium for his arrows. Bloody criminal.” The Ranger grinned and nodded toward Jacob.

  As Magi walked over to talk to Jacob, he saw a nearby tent explode in flame. A rare unicorn galloped frantically down the main thoroughfare of the village, clearing a path with his horn and hooves. People were screaming and the archers all turned to where the tent blazed.

  A red-cloaked gypsy was running after the unicorn when a bolt of lightning struck the man square in the back and blew a hole in his chest. The body convulsed a few times on the ground before lying still. Guards poured into the scene, shouting for calm while people began to scatter everywhere. Before Magi could turn around, Marik was at his side in his ear. “To our horses. Now.”

  They ran. Suddenly, Magi spotted Kyle, staring blankly ahead of him as he turned around and around, looking totally lost. “Kyle!” Magi shouted. They fought through the crowd and Magi grabbed his friend’s arm. Kyle just looked at Magi stupidly.

  “To the inn. We must find Venatus and get out of here.” Marik was calm but insistent.

  They found Venatus already by the horses. “Your handiwork?” he asked Marik, who said nothing. They mounted and began to ride, with Kyle between them.

  “Let’s put some distance between this Fair and ourselves before we stop for the night. Keep an eye on Kyle, Magi. Now ride!” Marik spurred his horse ahead, catching the Ranger by surprise, who quickly pressed ahead.

  It was then that Magi realized his ring was gone.

  CHAPTER 9: THE FORGING OF A TEAM

  Trevor

  Trevor had built himself a comfortable campsite, well into the woods that eventually began to give way to foothills as one travelled east toward the Crystal Mountains. He was already on his way out of Fostler, just a dirty-looking gypsy boy that would pass by most people unnoticed.

  Xaro had told him to utter a special word when he had the object in question. Most of their updates would be at Xaro’s summoning, but he wanted to know immediately when the object had been obtained, and he gave Trevor the description of the young man, the object, and somehow he even knew that they would likely be travelling through Fostler. All in all, this had been one of the easiest pickpocket assignments he’d ever had.

  Getting himself comfortable, he stared into a small fire he’d built to reflect heat off a large rock in the forest, situated in a tiny clearing. He was nibbling on fresh rabbit, roasted nicely in his little fire pit. At ease, he spoke the word: “Fennatulum.”

  Minutes later, Trevor felt the same sensation he had felt the first time Xaro had summoned him—like he was being stretched a little. It wasn’t uncomfortable or disorienting, but it wasn’t exactly pleasant, either. Trevor began right away.

  “I have it. This what you wanted?” He held up Magi’s ring.

  He could see Xaro as if he was standing right in front of him, plain and solid and smiling. “Indeed it is. Bring it to Sands End immediately.”

  The image faded, leaving Trevor staring into his fire again, thinking how nice it would be to have one more rabbit.

  Xaro

  “Silverfist calls you special. He never calls any member of your Guild special, and I’ve known the man for years. What makes you so special, Veronica?” Xaro asked, having conjured her image at the appointed time. As with Trevor, Xaro was purposefully dressed in fine clothes, wearing a white shirt trimmed in royal blue, along with a matching royal blue cloak that added a little dramatic flair to his outfit.

  “I’m not sure why Silver thinks I’m special, you would have to ask him. As for me, I simply do not fail. Most assassins have. But I have never needed a second attempt at a contracted mark.” Veronica came across proud, but not boastful.

  “An Assassin who never fails is a dangerous thing. Perhaps you are overconfident. How will you handle adversity? I won’t be asking you to kill overweight farmers—my needs will require someone special. Why wouldn’t I want someone who knows how to deal with setbacks?” Xaro probed.

  “Xaro, who were your parents?” she asked ca
lmly.

  My parents? “A woman named Daphne and man named Orion,” he answered, somewhat vaguely. “Why do you ask?”

  “And when did you leave them? You are a True Mage I’ve been told, though you conceal it well. Surely your study led you away from them at a young age?”

  She avoids my question to take over the interview. “I grew up in Raag-Kaan, with my mother, overlooking the Strait of Holstine on one edge of the peninsula and overlooking the Sea of Hate on the other. I learned most of my skills on Oraz, but have travelled extensively. What has this to do with my questioning of you?” Xaro cocked his head to side, slightly annoyed.

  Veronica looked Xaro through her soft, brown eyes. They weren’t brown like Xaro’s, whose false eyes looked hard. Veronica had puppy-eyes. “I want to know if you’re the kind of man who understands adversity or will need to have it graphically explained, that’s all. Did Silver tell you much of my upbringing?”

  Now, I see the passion. “He did not mention it.”

  “I see. I am the only child of Robin and Silvia Edgewild. My parents were murdered in front of me when I was thirteen. I was sent to an orphanage, where my life was…difficult. My living conditions did improve, when I moved out to live under a tree at sixteen. I began killing for revenge, and discovered I was quite good at it.

  “So, when you ask how I deal with setbacks, I’m curious to know if you have ever been dealt a graver setback than having been sent off to an orphanage for three years after watching your parents slaughtered right in front of you. Yet here I am, quite capable of not only surviving, but thriving in this Dark World. Is that resilient enough?” Her tone was quite pleasant.

  Silver may have a point—she is special. “Quite. So, you have been through a tough upbringing. That makes you no different than many other children, most of who don’t end up Master Assassins. Why do you do continue to do this? You exacted your revenge.”

  To Xaro’s surprise, Veronica laughed genuinely. “You and Silver both. Why is it so hard to believe that I simply enjoy killing for money? I am exceptional at it, and it buys me nice things. You do not look like a man whose hands are free from stain—I should ask you the same thing. Why have you killed, Xaro?”