A History of Magic

by Scott J Robinson

  “Excuse me.”

  Somebody pushed past. He didn’t even see them, apart from their red, pointy-toed shoes.

  In the main bar he ordered another drink but took it out into the hallway to get away from the noise. That left him with the mural. A painted soldier was eyeballing him from the back of a horse, wondering why he was here, instead of out finding the sorcerers. He swore at him too, but he just kept watching.

  With a grunt Rawk took his ale into the refectory, hitting the doorframe on the way through and leaving a puddle on the floor. The room was half full but the rumble of noise seemed much less offensive than it had in the bar, so he squinted around blearily looking for somewhere to sit. He finally spotted a vacant table, but he was distracted from his mission when he heard someone call his name. He started looking again, wavering where he stood, and eventually saw Thok. The other man’s face wasn’t much more than a blur, but his size made him hard to miss. Rawk made it to the table and managed to pour himself into a chair without spilling any more of his drink.

  “You’re drunk,” Thok said.

  “Perhaps.”

  “No, I’m pretty sure.”

  Rawk waved the comment away and took another drink.

  “What’s the occasion?”

  “Why do I need an occasion?” Rawk leaned forward. “What are you eating?”

  “Stew. And I know you don’t normally drink, so something is going on.”

  “I’m getting old.” He spun about in his seat and looked back towards where the pots of stew filled the end of the long room with clouds of mist. They seemed a long way away.

  “It’s your birthday?”

  “No. It was just a comment. There are sorcerers in the city that I can’t find. And there are exots that I can’t kill.”

  “There always were.”

  Rawk narrowed his eyes.

  “You knew there were sorcerers hiding in Katamood, didn’t you? You knew where Sylvia was. Did you really think you knew about all of them?”

  “Well...” Rawk tried to get his head around the conversation. He took a sip of ale, though he doubted that would help at all.

  “You can’t do everything, Rawk. You never could.”

  “I could too.”

  “Right. That’s why Galad had a mushon skin cloak and you didn’t?”

  Rawk had turned his back on tackling a mushon and Galad had finished the job. “You know about that?”

  “Of course. Not everyone believes all your tales.”

  “They do. They should.” Rawk wanted something to eat. “One mushon out in the forest doesn’t matter. Sorcerers making unicorns appear in the middle of Katamood does matter.”

  Thok nodded slowly. “No war is more devastating than a personal battle.”

  “What?”

  “The thing right in front of you regularly stops you from seeing the bigger thing behind.”

  Rawk squinted some more, trying to see his meaning this time. He couldn’t squint enough for that. “Do you always talk like this?”

  Thok laughed. “I’m not talking like this. You’re just drunk.”

  “That’s all right then. I though I was losing my mind.”

  “Not tonight.”

  Rawk sighed. “I’m getting old, Thok, and very soon the people are going to notice. They are going to see an exot get away from me. They are going to hear about the sorcerers and wonder why I haven’t handed them over the Weaver.”

  “And then you can retire.”

  “I already retired.”

  “Then what is the problem?”

  “Unicorns and sorcerers.”

  “That is quite a problem to have.”

  “I killed the unicorns, and things only got worse.”

  “Just do what you can, let the rest sort itself out. Or not, as the case may be.”

  Rawk finished his drink. “I don’t like to fail.”

  Thok shrugged. “Then don’t try.”

  “I need something to eat.” He made his way to the stew via the common room.

  Thersday

  Rawk lay in bed, blinking against the light and listening to the boots thumping up the back of his head. They were very loud. Too loud. His head pounded with each step. When the noise became too much, he groaned and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He was at least half way when Travis came through the door, two steps ahead of Ramaner. Waydin was close behind as well, with three other guards.

  Rawk rubbed his eyes. They felt like they were too big for his head. And there was still way too much light. He squinted against the glare and groaned. Sitting up hadn’t made him feel any better. It hadn’t made anything feel any better. “I’m not sure the two seconds warning helped all that much, Travis, but thank you.”

  Travis gave a nod, but didn’t leave. It looked like he was there to fight, if need be.

  “What’s the problem, Ramaner? Apart from the fact that your wife slept with me twenty years ago.” He closed his eyes and decided he was never opening them again.

  “Another sorcerer has turned up dead. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

  “You are correct. I don’t know anything.”

  “The name Falling Leaves doesn’t ring a bell? One armed elf woman?”

  “Of course it does. I never said I didn’t know anything about sorcerers, just not newly dead ones.” He opened one eye.

  “So you knew Falling Leaves?”

  “Not personally. I’ve never spoke to her but I spent the last two days looking for her. How did she die?”

  “You killed her.”

  “Wait, you are accusing me of murdering a sorcerer?” Rawk laughed. That was a bad idea. He closed his eye again and waited fir the spinning in his head to slow down. “First of all, no. And second of all, sorcery is illegal. And, by extension, being a sorcerer is illegal. I have been doing my job as a Hero, searching for sorcerers so I can stop them from killing innocent people and destroying the city with exots. Weaver knows this. I told him. And he had stopped talking for a moment, so I know he heard.”

  Ramaner grunted. His hand flexed on the hilt of his sword. “If you had stopped to think for a moment, you could have let her live and asked where the others are. But you are not capable of stringing two thoughts together, are you?”

  “What others? How do you know there are others?”

  His knuckles turned white on the hilt of his sword. “There are always others.”

  “Well, where did you find Falling Leaves?”

  “Why?”

  “So I can go and look for clues.”

  “Clues?”

  “Yes, clues. Clues that might point me towards all these other sorcerers you’re so worried about.”

  “Weaver has order me to send out the City Guard.”

  “You’re a day late.”

  “We will take care of this, before you force all the sorcerers into hiding.”

  Rawk was going to say that they were already in hiding, and had been for years, but he didn’t get the chance.

  “You make sure you keep out of their way or you will be arrested and I don’t care what Weaver says.”

  Rawk watched as the Guards followed him out. When they were gone, he turned to Travis. “What’s for breakfast? Food is supposed to be good for hangovers, right?” The conversation had made his head pound even worse than before; all the shouting had bruised his mind.

  “I’m not sure we have that much food.”

  Rawk rose carefully to his feet.

  “Where are you going anyway?” Travis asked.

  “To look for sorcerers, obviously.”

  “I think Ramaner was serious.”

  Rawk started walking and didn’t say anything. At the door, he stopped to lean for a while.

  “I’ll have lunch ready for when you get down stairs.”

  “Did I miss breakfast?”

  “Not yet, but at the speed you are going...”

  “Shut up. I’m fine.” He pushed himself upright, wavered for a
moment, then made a heroic dash for the stairs.

  When he was done eating, Rawk was feeling slightly better. At least until he stood up again. Then he was feeling decidedly worse. He thought of sitting back down but knew he probably wouldn’t get up again until lunchtime. He sat down again and watched as Kalesie cut some vegetables and shouted orders at the helpers. All of them except Biki. Kalesie completely ignored her. The dwife worked anyway, silently taking tasks given to others and getting the job done. And Rawk might have stayed there, except the all shouting and the clanking was worming its way into his head and bouncing of the inside of his skull. He got to his feet, promising to never drink again, and went to sit at the table outside the back door.

  The ostler’s yard was still shaded and the cool, quiet settled his head enough for him to wonder what he was going to do. Valo, Shef, Frixen, Queel and Falling Leaves were all dead. The only other lead they had was Balen, and it was unlikely he was going to come out of hiding now. He thought perhaps he could find Waydin to ask what he knew, but Waydin was never going to cross Ramaner with the mood the General was in at the moment. And he didn’t know who else would...

  Except... Rawk grunted. There were probably dozens of people who could tell him where Falling Leaves had been found. He could probably step out onto the front porch right now, miles from where it had happened, and find someone who had heard a rumor about the death.

  “Path, damn it.” He just wanted to sit and do nothing for a while. He signed and headed down to the office to collect Kaj. Biki had left the kitchen and was now cleaning the Vault, wiping down tables and singing quietly to herself.

  “Good morning, Rawk.”

  “Something like that.”

  Biki’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sick? You look a bit green.”

  “Yes, fine, thank you. I just drank too much.” Which didn’t take much. “Did you come down here for a break from Kalesie?”

  “I am used to that kind of thing,” Biki said quietly. “Perhaps it was to give her a break from me.”

  “You could go home. You seem to be here more often than not.”

  She hesitated for a moment.

  “What is it?”

  Biki shrugged. “Some of the people living in the building...”

  “Oh.” Rawk shook his head. “Well, there isn’t much I can do about that, really.”

  “I know. I didn’t expect you to.”

  “Of course. Except...” He smiled. “You’ll be home this afternoon?”

  “I could be.”

  “Great. I’ll send someone down to see you.”

  “I don’t want to cause trouble.”

  “It’s no trouble.”

  “What do you mean, you’ll ‘send someone down to see me’?” She looked a bit worried, but Rawk just smiled. That made him feel better than all the food.

  He was still smiling when he crossed the weapon room. Sylvia was sitting on the couch, concentrating on a book, when he entered the office. She was worse than Biki.

  “Did you sleep here?”

  “Of course not.” She glanced up. “What are you smiling about?”

  “Biki is worried I’m going to send down some muscle to have a word with the old lady who lives across the hall from her.”

  It seemed to take a moment for that to register. “Pardon. Are you unwell? You look a bit green.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Rawk looked around for Kaj. It took a moment for him to realize that the sword was hanging on the wall. Travis had obviously been busy again. His head spun as he reached up to collect it. He wondered if there was any point taking it. He doubted he’d beat Clinker in a fight at the moment, and the weight on his hip would probably mean he would spend the morning walking around in circles. But he put the belt around his waist and tightened it more than was necessary. “So, are you ready?”

  “For what? I am not going to start visiting brothels again.”

  “That would be pointless. Falling Leaves is dead.”

  Sylvia looked up properly for the first time. “What? When did this happen?”

  “Last night obviously.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Ramaner told me. He wouldn’t tell me anything else though.”

  “So...”

  “So we’re going to find out where she was killed and go and have a look.”

  Sylvia looked confused. “How will we find out?”

  “We’ll ask.”

  “Whom shall we ask?”

  Rawk shrugged and regretted it. He held his hand to his head, as if that would stop the spinning. “Doesn’t matter. I reckon it will take us about five minutes.” He started towards the door but noticed the tea jug on the table at the back of the room was sending out a think drizzle of steam. “Did you make some tea?”

  “Travis brought it in.”

  “Give me a minute then.” Rawk poured himself some tea, added honey. For a moment he closed his eyes and breathed in the steam, then took a small sip.

  “That is what saved you, you know.”

  “The tea? When?”

  “With both the smoking man and Mistletowe.”

  “How?”

  “Antioxidants.”

  “In the tea?”

  “Yes. Lots of them.”

  “Really? Huh. I knew it was good to drink.”

  “Yes, but perhaps the word is trying to tell you something.”

  “It normally is.”

  “Twice in the last few days you have been afflicted with something that should have paralyzed and killed you.”

  Rawk took another sip, only half listening.

  “Perhaps it is a metaphor for your life. You have stagnated. You are not going anywhere.”

  He gave a slow nod. “Maybe. But I’m not paralyzed any more, am I? I’ve made some new friends and opened a music venue and... And I’ve retired.”

  “Who are these friends?”

  “Grint and Celeste. And Clinker. And you.”

  “Really? These friends seem a lot like your retirement.”

  “That’s not nice.” Rawk took a couple of more sips of tea then put the cup down on the corner of the desk. “Come on. We don’t have all day.”

  Sylvia put down her book and started working on her scarf.

  -O-

  Rawk wanted to catch a cab, but their destination was not all that far away so he headed across the road and down the hill towards the forest. They were going down the steepest side of Two Watch Hill, so there were hardly any horses but the foot traffic was bad enough. The crazy angle made Rawk feel as if he was continually falling, and he wasn’t sure that he was going to be able to get up again afterwards. He wished he’d brought a hat to keep out the early morning glare that struck like lances between the buildings.

  They had been walking for just a few minutes when Rawk noticed a noise above the general murmur of the city. Shouts and cheers. And heckling. He laid a hand on Sylvia’s arm, drawing her to a halt as he looked around and tried to gauge the direction of the sound. Soldiers came into sight, ten men coming from a side street with all the elegant precision of a herd of cows. They came closer and Rawk knew it would look suspicious if he and Sylvia turned around to walk the other direction. So he waited where he was hoping they walked on by.

  “Ho, Rawk.”

  Rawk sighed and waved to the soldier in the front. “Lakin. How goes it? What are you up to?” His heart was racing like he was about to fight a dragon.

  The captain stopped and his men came to a ragged stop behind him. “Weaver has got us out looking for sorcerers.” He took off his plumed officers helmet and tucked it under his arm.

  “Has he? He said he was going to be starting south of the river.”

  Lakin shrugged. “I think most of the troops may be over there but... Well, here we are.”

  “Indeed. Will ten of you be enough?” He knew he shouldn’t be getting into a conversation with him, but he still didn’t want to just walk away.

  Lakin looked at his men, as if he hadn�
��t considered the possibility of failure previously. “I should think so.”

  “I’ve seen sorcerers face entire armies.” He hadn’t, not on their own, but Lakin didn’t need to know that.

  “Yes, well surely someone like that wouldn’t be hanging around here.”

  “I keep getting told that Katamood is the center of the world. Lines of power meet here or something.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Valo, Frixen, Mistletowe.”

  Lakin looked suspicious. He pulled at his nose. “You know they’re all dead, right?”

  “Of course. I obviously spoke to them before they died though. And I didn’t kill any of them, before you ask.”

  “Right.”

  “And, just a question. How will you know a sorcerer when you see one?”

  “I have an amulet. It glows when there is magic nearby.”

  Rawk swallowed. “Really?”

  The captain pulled the item in question from his pocket and held it up for Rawk to see. There was a gem in the center of a four-pointed star. Nothing was glowing.

  Seeing the thing wasn’t working, Rawk started to relax. “So... You just walk around until it starts glowing.”

  “Yes. It can even detect magic for a few days after its gone.”

  “How can you see it in your pocket?”

  Lakin didn’t say anything.

  “And then you knock on doors and ask people if they are sorcerers?”

  “The gem glows brighter the closer the magic is.”

  Rawk glanced at Sylvia as she adjusted her scarf, then back at the gem. “All right then. Sounds like you’ve got it all under control.”

  “Of course.”

  “Good luck with it, though hopefully you don’t find all of them or you’ll put me out of business.”

  “I thought you had retired.”

  Rawk shrugged. “I have and I’m the busiest I’ve been in years.” Rawk clapped his hands together. “Speaking of which, I’ve got work to do and so have you.”

  Lakin nodded and jammed his helmet back on, looking as if he was embarrassed by the ridiculous item. He gave a salute, as if to emphasize the point, then marched off with his men behind.