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

by Hogan, Mitchell

  “Caldan, what is it?” she asked, concerned.

  “I never really knew my parents. That’s why I grew up in the monastery. They… died… when I was young.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Recently, I found out they were murdered.”

  With an anguished gasp the blood drained from Miranda’s face. She reached her hand across the table and took Caldan’s hand in hers. “I’m so sorry, truly. That’s awful.”

  Caldan nodded slowly, eyes downcast. “All I have of theirs is a ring, which is… distinctive… and what the monks told me about their past, working for the empire. But it isn’t enough. I wish it was, but… I need to find out more about them. Who they were, where they came from. Perhaps it will lead me to understand what happened to them, or it could lead me into danger. I just don’t know.” He cleared his throat. “It could be dangerous, and I wouldn’t… couldn’t bring you into something that might lead to you being hurt or worse. Do you see?”

  Miranda gave his hand a gentle squeeze and nodded. “I do. I’m glad you felt able to tell me.”

  “It wouldn’t be fair on you otherwise, and I wouldn’t do that to you.”

  “No, you wouldn’t, and that’s unusual. You’re an interesting man, Caldan.” She released his hand and leaned back, giving him an appraising stare. “I agree.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I agree to help you, unless things get rough. Then we can decide whether to continue or to run.”

  “Ah… thank you, but I don’t need help—”

  “No thanks needed,” interrupted Miranda. “I’m sure I’ll be able to help you. I know a few people who know others. Information here can be remarkably easy to obtain if you know the right people, and have the ducats.”

  Caldan scratched his head and frowned. This wasn’t going as planned. “Really, I don’t have much to go on…”

  “All the more reason to work together.”

  “I guess so.”

  “I know so. I’m not saying I’ll follow you to hell and back, or vow revenge if you get yourself killed.”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  “But what I’m saying is that I can help. You follow whatever trails you have, and I can find out what I can, and introduce you to people whose business it is to know other people’s business.” She shrugged. “Simple, and hardly dangerous.”

  With a half-smile, Caldan nodded. She made sense, and if he had any inkling the situation was deteriorating or was likely to, he would distance himself from her. After all, she would know what he found out only by introducing him to people that could help. “Then I agree as well,” he replied. “Though as to your business, I’m afraid all I can offer is a friendly face and someone to talk to.”

  Miranda’s expression improved and she smiled. Caldan felt the room become brighter and warmer.

  “Great! I’m still working out what I’m going to do. I’ve found a room for myself, and from working with the captain I have some contacts with the merchants and traders. There are lots of ducats to be made, if you don’t mind risks.”

  She broke off as their waiter appeared. He placed two steaming bowls on the table and a basket covered with a thin cloth. The smell of freshly baked, hot bread came from the basket, and Caldan’s stomach rumbled. He glanced at Miranda and she rolled her eyes. The waiter left two empty plates for them as well as pewter forks and spoons.

  Miranda rubbed her hands together. She slid one of the empty plates across the table to him and proceeded to dish out portions of both eel dishes. “Let’s eat. Pass me some bread, please.”

  “Oh, sure,” Caldan replied. He removed the cloth and placed one of the thick slices on her plate.

  “It’s best eaten when it’s hot, so don’t worry if you can’t hold a conversation for a while.”

  For some time they enjoyed a companionable silence as they demolished both bowls of eel. To Caldan’s surprise, he found himself enjoying both dishes, including the noodles and bread. Miranda’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she watched him take pleasure in eating eel for the first time. Following her lead, he used bread crusts to scrape his plate and soak up the remaining sauce.

  “Well,” Miranda said after she finished her last crust of bread. “That was good.”

  Caldan nodded. “It was. I didn’t know what to expect, but it was enjoyable.”

  “Now you have a task to complete for the next time we meet.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “To find as good a place to eat, of course!”

  “Ah… It might take a while. I have to earn some ducats first before I can return the favor.”

  Miranda leaned her elbows on the table, goblet held in both hands. She swirled her wine. “If it takes a while, you’d better make sure it serves good food. Too much anticipation could lead to high expectations.”

  “You’ll have to wait, I’m afraid. I’ve just started at the Sorcerers’ Guild and still don’t know what I’ll be doing. And the wages aren’t great.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

  “I hope so. I’ve had a rough time here since arriving. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be completely out of ducats. Like those men at the docks.”

  “The ones looking for work?”

  “Yes, they looked desperate.”

  “They probably are, after all, the city isn’t forgiving. Everyone needs to survive, and most people are too busy looking after themselves to worry about anyone else.”

  “I suppose. Still, I shudder to think how close I came to becoming like them. I was on my way to spending my nights on the streets if I hadn’t been accepted.”

  “Stop dwelling on it. You didn’t have to, and you should count yourself lucky you didn’t.”

  “You’re right.” Caldan raised his goblet. “To the future,” he toasted.

  Miranda touched her goblet to his. “To the future.” She smiled at him. “It’s getting late. What time do you need to get back? I could show you some more of the city. It isn’t all bad, you know.”

  Caldan grimaced. “I’m with the young apprentices at the moment, in their dormitory. They sleep earlier than I would like.”

  “Oh ho! An early night, up with the dawn?”

  “Yes. Any day now I should be out of there. One of the masters, Master Garren, is placing me somewhere, then I hope to have my own room.”

  “Somewhere?”

  Caldan opened his hands in a gesture of hopelessness. After his troubles finding any employment at all, he felt quite good about the sorcerers but could understand Miranda’s puzzlement that he didn’t have a firm idea what he would be doing. “He had to find a place for me. I’m too old to become an apprentice. I had to beg him to let me stay until he sorted something out.”

  “He must think you’re good, or he wouldn’t have gone to so much trouble.”

  “Maybe. He seemed impressed, except for the mistake I made.”

  “What mistake?”

  Caldan hesitated. “I crafted something because he asked it. But I forgot an essential part, so it didn’t work as planned.”

  “What’s it like? Crafting, I mean. It’s sorcery, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. It’s… hard to describe.” Caldan paused to scratch his itchy cheek. He stopped at Miranda’s frown. “I know, don’t scratch it or it won’t heal properly.”

  “I was about to say that.”

  “Anyway, it’s like making something with your hands. That’s why it’s called crafting or sometimes shaping.”

  “But it’s sorcery?”

  “It is, but it also takes some skill at woodworking or metalworking to be able to create an item that functions the way you want it to. The item itself is used to both shape and anchor the forces you want, and it has to be able to resist the wear of those same forces. The longer you need your crafting to last, the harder the materials have to be, and the more expensive.”

  “You couldn’t set yourself up as a sorcerer and start your own business crafting items,
unless you had a lot of ducats for the materials?”

  “Yes, and the Sorcerers’ Guild wouldn’t allow it. Plus you wouldn’t be very good without access to the resources they have, the library, the knowledge from past experiments, the training and discipline they offer.”

  “What about fighting with sorcery? Shooting fire from your fingers, that sort of thing?” She held her hands up and pointed all her fingers in his direction.

  Caldan laughed and shook his head. “They’re all myths. No one can do destructive sorcery. People say it was possible before the Shattering, but I think the stories were made up. People always think sorcery can be used that way, but in reality it can’t. Tales from before the Shattering are just that, tales. Sorcery is only used to create useful lasting items and tools, like trinkets. Although they aren’t able to be made anymore, the knowledge has been lost.” His hand strayed to his neck, where his own trinket rested against his skin.

  Miranda looked thoughtful. “It stands to reason, though, that if trinkets exist but the knowledge of creating them has been lost, then maybe that’s what happened with the destructive sorcery. It’s possible, but the knowledge has been lost?”

  Caldan shook his head. “If sorcerers could use their ability that way, the knowledge wouldn’t be lost, it would be too valuable.”

  “But the skill of how to make trinkets has been lost?”

  “Well, yes, but… the chaos around the Shattering caused a great deal of knowledge to be lost. The Sorcerers’ Guild would know if sorcery could be used to harm people, and I’m sure they don’t know of any way it can. At the monastery they didn’t either.”

  “Oh well, so no fairytale evil sorcerers?”

  “I’m afraid not. We’re all good guys.” Caldan grinned at her and she laughed. “Oh, there’s one thing I’ve been meaning to ask you about the emperor’s soldiers. Someone called them Quivers, but from his tone I thought there was more to his meaning than the fact most of them carried quivers.”

  “Ah, yes. The empire’s been at peace for a long time now, and almost all of the soldiers haven’t seen battle. Some people like to imply that’s what they’d do if it came to a real fight, ‘quiver’.”

  “I see.”

  “Well, do you have to be going soon or…?” Miranda left the question hanging.

  “Oh. I should get back. I’m sure someone would have been looking for me to give me more work, and it’s probably past the apprentices’ curfew. I wouldn’t want anyone to think I’ve gone missing.”

  “That’s all right, we can see some of the sights another time. Walking around doesn’t cost any coins, so we can do it whenever you have some time free.”

  Miranda stood and led Caldan down an aisle between tables while fishing at her belt for coins. At the entrance, their waiter appeared and she passed him a handful of ducats. Caldan couldn’t see their color, but he was sure the place wasn’t cheap. Both the decor and food assured him of that.

  Miranda beckoned him by tilting her head at the door and he followed her outside. Night had fallen, and a cool breeze gusted up the road chilling Caldan through his shirt. Lanterns at each food stall and the glowing coals from their braziers lit the street, giving the place a warm, welcoming feel, despite the wind.

  Miranda folded her arms across her chest for warmth and blew out a breath.

  Caldan looked both ways down the street, surprised people were still out. The crowd and noise was a marked change from inside Camild’s House of Eels. He offered Miranda his arm again.

  “Can I walk you home?”

  Miranda shook her head. “Don’t worry, I can make my own way from here.” She smiled at him to make sure he understood nothing was wrong. “I know where you are now, so I’ll come and see you again in a few days, after you are more properly settled in. And I should have a contact for you by then. I presume you are searching for someone who can assist in the Sorcerers’ Guild?” He nodded in agreement and she continued. “If you need to get word to me, come here to Camild’s and leave a message. They’ll make sure I get it.”

  Caldan shuffled his feet and looked out at the street. “Well, good night.” He turned to Miranda and found her holding out her hand. He took it and she shook his with a surprisingly strong grip.

  “Good night, Caldan. I had a really nice time.”

  “Er… me too,” he replied lamely, wondering what she meant.

  She used his hand to pull him closer, grunting with the effort.

  “You’re a heavy bastard,” cursed Miranda. “Sorry, old habits and all that.” She patted him on the cheek, taking care to avoid his wound. “Don’t make me regret finding you. I’ll see you soon, in a few days.” She released her grip and stepped back.

  “I won’t. I’ll repay you for the meal as soon as I can.”

  “There’s no rush. I’m sure you’ll find your feet. Things are looking good for you. Just stick in there.” She ran a hand through her dark hair. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “Thank you for dinner. And for the company,” added Caldan.

  “You’re welcome. Goodbye. Oh, and one more thing. Don’t keep shaving your head. Let your hair grow. I think it’ll look good on you.”

  With a final farewell, she turned on her heel and strode into the crowd, heading south towards the River Sop. Caldan stood and watched until he lost sight of her in the throng, then wove his own way through the crowd north towards the High Road. He had a long trek back to the dormitory, but it was a fine night for a walk to collect his thoughts.

  Chapter Twenty

  Amerdan shifted uncomfortably on his stool and squinted up at his rag doll perched on the corner shelf. His legs ached from sitting too long, and his plums felt numb, but he could hardly adjust anything when a customer might walk through the door at any moment. That would be a sight, to have one hand down your pants when someone walked in. He’d known a man on his way to Anasoma who didn’t mind an adjustment when riding. He’d joined a merchant train along with a few other travelers, led by an affable merchant with three guards and their wagon full of goods. They thought their journey would be an easy one. Amerdan knew that sometimes there was no safety in numbers. Two other travelers came along on that trip, a quiet serving girl, who was on her way back from visiting relatives, and a coarse barbarian sell-sword, who stank like he hadn’t bathed in months. The merchant’s hand had been shifting his plums constantly, with no thought that people might see, and in front of the girl, too. Bloody savage.

  And a bloody journey that had been, the road not as safe as everyone had hoped.

  He gave a quiet snort of amusement then stood up and stretched, reaching toward the ceiling before walking around the counter to the shop floor proper. He shifted the position of a few items, though still wasn’t satisfied afterwards.

  Bells tingled and the curtain rattled, and pushing past the beads stepped a scrawny young man. Barely able to shave, Amerdan reckoned. Garbed in threadbare loose-fitting clothes, with the sallow complexion of someone who spent a great deal of time indoors. He reeked of dust, old books and stale sweat.

  With barely a glance at Amerdan, he proceeded to wander the shop, touching things, poking around, sniffing at items he apparently found inferior.

  Amerdan watched to note how many items would have to be repositioned. The young man’s display went on for a good few minutes, giving Amerdan some time to assess him and the likelihood of him spending some ducats. Still, looks were deceiving, as he knew.

  Eventually, the young man drew himself up and made his way to the counter, a disappointed look on his face, which was framed by greasy lank hair.

  “My good man,” he started, opening his negotiation. “I can see from your stock that you have not been able to keep up to date with the latest goods coming in from the capital. Still, there may be a few items I could use for my studies.”

  He drew out a rumpled piece of paper from a pocket and scanned the page. “Hmm, yes, my list is long.” He made as if to hand the list over then pulled it back. “My a
pologies, I assumed you could read. I meant no offence.”

  “None taken, good sir,” Amerdan replied with a broad smile. “Not many of the common people have that skill or have a use for such a thing. Counting is what I know, and enough about writing to make my mark is all I require.”

  “Of course. It was silly of me to assume. Ahem… Your merchandise will do in a pinch. Firstly, I need two of the common ink bottles and twenty sheets of your cheapest parchment — for sketches and rough calculations and things of that nature.” He looked away, face reddening.

  Straight off the farm, this one was, thought Amerdan. Unless he missed his guess. Recently apprenticed or indentured, and short of ducats.

  “Certainly, good sir. I have a large selection of writing implements, if you would like to see for yourself. Also, you are in luck as I have a few samples of rare earths recently in from the southern mines.”

  “Ah, no, that’s fine. I prefer to make my own writing tools. I find I can obtain much better results that way, for my work. As for the rare earths, perhaps another time.”

  Amerdan nodded and smiled. Very short of ducats. “Well,” he said, bustling around the shop and picking up some bottles and parchment, “what’s next on that list of yours? What sort of paraphernalia are you using in your studies?”

  “I doubt you stock many of the items I am after. I could use a lamp, though, and oil. My apprenticeship means I have to read a lot at night.”

  “And what apprenticeship would that be, young sir? I can see an intelligent lad like you serving at say… one of the banks? Or maybe a merchant’s, even a company as fine as the Five Oceans Mercantile Concern?”

  The young man sneered. “I should say not! Banking? Trading?” He drew himself up. “I have been taken in by the sorcerers! Someone of my talent doesn’t come along often. They said so themselves.”

  “Really?” Amerdan bobbed his head and did his best to look impressed. “Talented, are you? You do have the look of someone who is destined for great things, mark my words!”