Secrets and Spellcraft

by Michael G. Manning

  Tailtiu’s mist would be a life saver, but he still wasn’t comfortable. He wanted something better, so he returned to the cathedral and walked around the exterior once more, hoping he would spot something helpful.

  “You keep looking up,” observed his aunt. “What about the sewers?”

  Will stopped, then looked down. The wide streets around the cathedral were marked by several large openings into the city’s sewer system at their edges. “You’re a genius,” he exclaimed.

  “I already knew that,” she replied.

  He walked over to the gutter opening nearest to the eastern entrance of the cathedral. It was definitely wide enough lengthwise, but the other dimension was too narrow. He took note of the construction, for the top portion of the gutter was formed of a single long stone that reminded him of a door lintel. “If we weaken the mortar, we might be able to lift the top stone and slip through.”

  Tailtiu bent down and put one hand on the top edge. In a seemingly effortless exercise of strength she lifted the stone, pulling it free and causing the mortar to fall away. “Like this?”

  “Put it down!” hissed Will, glancing around to see if anyone was watching them.

  She did and he ushered her down the street at a brisk pace. “You’re freakishly strong,” he remarked. “Have I mentioned that before?”

  “Not just my arms either,” she said with a wink.

  Will closed his eyes. “Please, stop.”

  “The real question,” she continued, “is whether there’s a route from there that’s large enough for a clumsy human to navigate.”

  “Can you check it for me later? Preferably at night.”

  She nodded. “I do my best work at night.”

  Will shook his head. There was no winning with Tailtiu. “I’ll meet you tomorrow to see what you’ve discovered.”

  Chapter 61

  The next day Will went through his paces—classes, practice, and meals—then consulted Arrogan once more. “I need some advice.”

  “You need to find a better conversation starter,” said the ring. “Every time you begin with the same line. I’m getting tired of it.”

  “How about this one? I don’t want to die.”

  “Better, but I’d prefer one like this, ‘Arrogan, I’m tired of tormenting you. I’ll be taking you to be melted down today.’”

  “If you keep being difficult, I’ll start taking you to my classes and activate the limnthal so you have to listen to the lectures,” threatened Will.

  “Now you’re just being nasty,” said Arrogan in a wounded tone. “Who taught you to behave like that?”

  “You did.”

  “Fair enough. What did you want to know?”

  “I know what I want, but I don’t know if it’s possible. Is there a way to design a spell to break glass vials on command?”

  “Definitely not,” pronounced the ring, but there was an odd tone in its voice.

  Will sighed. “There’s a way. Just tell me. I don’t want to play the question game.”

  “Your question was shit,” complained the ring. “But fine, I won’t torture you. You can’t do something like that with a spell. You need an enchantment.”

  “I haven’t learned much about enchantments yet.”

  “They’re similar to spells, but they’re written on something.”

  “Like the spells in a journal?”

  “No, idiot. These are written forms that do something. Usually it’s to produce a prolonged or permanent effect, but they can also be used for one-time activations. In your case, what you want is something simple. It’s similar to the shatter spell you learned, but you inscribe it on something. For a vial you’d probably use a piece of paper or a label. With a command word you could activate it and destroy the vial.”

  Will felt his excitement growing. “That’s exactly what I need. Can you teach it to me?”

  Arrogan’s sarcasm was thick as he replied, “Sure, I’ll just write it out for you.”

  “Can’t you just tell me the runes and the order to write them in?”

  “How about you try writing down the chameleon spell you’ve been using so frequently? Do it without referring to Practical Magic. Can you manage that?”

  Will frowned. Of course he could. He’d memorized the spell and he practiced it daily. I’ll prove him wrong this time, he thought. “Give me a few minutes.” Going to the desk, he found a blank sheet of paper and began writing.

  “Take as long as you want,” said the ring.

  Halfway through, Will got stuck. Eventually he was forced to construct the spell as if he was planning to cast it. By doing that he figured out what he had forgotten and was able to continue. He got stuck again a few minutes later, and before he was done transcribing the spell onto the page, he had been forced to construct the spell four times. “I did it,” he announced.

  “And you almost certainly had to create the spell construct to remember how it was done, didn’t you?” asked Arrogan.

  “Yeah,” he admitted.

  “Now you understand what I meant before when I said I couldn’t teach you spells. It’s even worse when you can reflex cast something, because you’ve stopped consciously creating the construct. In the case of enchantments, there isn’t even a construct to refer to. It’s something done purely on a material substrate, so unless you use the same enchantment every day, you’re unlikely to remember all the details. That’s why we have these things called books.”

  “Sounds like I’ll need to make another trip to the library,” Will acknowledged. “Do you know what the enchantment I need is called?”

  “No clue,” said Arrogan. “I just remember it’s very simple. Even someone like you should be able to master it fairly quickly. If you can find the information.”

  “Thanks,” said Will. He dismissed the limnthal and considered his options. Professor Dulaney would probably have the knowledge, but whether the teacher would agree to share it with him was another matter. Failing that, he would need to find a third- or fourth-year student and ask them, since they started learning enchantments in the third year. Sadly, he didn’t know anyone beyond the second year, not well enough to ask anyway. The only third-year he could name off the top of his head was Craig Larkin, and he was certain that one of Dennis’ old friends wouldn’t want to help him.

  Will ran through his practice exercises a few times and then left. It was time to meet Tailtiu and see what she had discovered. On his way through the lobby he ran across Rob, which gave him an idea. “Rob!”

  “Will!” said his friend, responding with a grin and an equal amount of mock enthusiasm.

  He laughed. “Do you know any third- or fourth-years well enough to ask them about something?”

  “I know a few thirds,” said Rob, rubbing his chin as though pondering a deep and serious matter.

  Will described what he wanted to know. “Do you think you could find someone who would tell you, or at least point you in the right direction?”

  Rob nodded. “Probably. Give me a day or two. Why do you want to know?”

  “It’s just for an alchemy project I’m working on.”

  “Sure…” said Rob with obvious disbelief. “I see why you want me to ask. Everyone knows you’re up to no good.”

  Will put on an air of great offense. “You wound me, my friend!”

  “Says the man with two black eyes.”

  He couldn’t argue with that. They talked for a few more minutes and then Will went on his way. He met Tailtiu outside the city not long after dusk had settled over the landscape.

  “Did you find a way?” he asked.

  His aunt nodded. “The sewers under the center of the city are large. You may have to swim for some part of the journey. Also the smell is intense.”

  “But there’s a way out?”

  “You won’t even need my guidance,” answered Tailtiu. “Just follow the flow and you’ll wind up at the river outlet. There’s an iron grate there, but that won’t be much of a problem for you.
”

  At least one thing is working out smoothly, thought Will. “That’s great. All I need from you now is for you to wait for me outside the cathedral on the date of the wedding.”

  “What time?”

  “I’m not sure,” said Will. “It’s going to be on the next Saturday after this coming weekend. I think the ceremony takes place at noon, so I’ll probably be running for my life some time shortly after that.”

  “Probably? Are you not certain?”

  He shrugged. “There’s a tiny chance that things will go better than I expect. If that happens, I might not need to run at all, but I rather doubt that will be the case.”

  “Or they might kill you before you can escape,” added Tailtiu.

  Will grimaced. “Or that. If I don’t come out, wait until nightfall. If I haven’t sent you a message by then I’m probably dead. There’s also a chance I might have been imprisoned. Perhaps you could extract me.”

  “Human dungeons are full of iron,” she responded, wrinkling her nose, “but I will try if you wish me to.”

  He smirked. “I think I’d like that.”

  With that settled, he returned to Wurthaven where he spent a short time practicing before heading to the Alchemy building. Assuming he could acquire the enchantment he needed, he would also want to have the alchemical vials ready for use.

  The next day passed without much to mark it, although he still caught the other students glancing at him now and then, presumably to get a look at the now-yellow bruises around his eyes. After Spell Theory he took the opportunity to see if Professor Dulaney would share the information he needed. Will explained what he was trying to find out and then waited to see how the teacher responded.

  Dulaney frowned at him. “Why the sudden interest in enchantments? Most students don’t encounter them until their third year, though I had ideas of starting you on them next year.”

  “Just curious, sir,” said Will innocently. “I’m always looking to expand my knowledge.”

  His teacher laughed. “Anytime a student says something along the lines of ‘I just want to learn,’ I know it means trouble. Your request is oddly specific for someone with innocent intentions.”

  Will decided to try his backup story. “I just want to play a prank on someone, a very harmless prank.”

  “Mm hmm. How’d you get the black eyes?”

  “I’d rather not talk about it, sir.”

  Dulaney nodded. “Funny, I feel the same way about enchantments. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Standing, he patted Will on the back as he ushered him out of his office. Will growled in frustration as he left.

  I expected as much, he told himself, trying to suppress his disappointment.

  On Friday he returned to the armor-smith’s shop, where he encountered another piece of disappointing news. “I can’t do a damn thing with it,” Byron Waters informed him. “I can’t even figure out what it’s made of. I’ve never seen anything like it. Where did you get it?”

  Will pursed his lips. “Would you believe me if I said it came from another world?”

  The smith scratched his beard. “I’d believe anything about now. It’s a little bit lighter than regular steel, and the color is strange, but the material properties are what amaze me. I haven’t been able to bend it in the slightest, even after annealing. Ordinarily something that hard would be brittle, but it refuses to respond to anything I do to it. I shattered one of my best cold chisels just trying to see if I could put a mark on it.”

  “Well, damn. I had hoped to use it.”

  “It would make the finest breastplate anyone could ever hope to own, if it could be shaped,” agreed Byron. “You say it came from another world. Do you know what made those scratches?” He pointed to the faint lines that the goddamn cat’s claws had left. “It looks like a beast did it, but anything that could scratch this metal would have to be harder and sharper than any weapon ever forged.”

  “I can’t really say,” said Will sadly. “But you’re right. It was a beast, though from an entirely different world than the one this breastplate came from.”

  “You move in strange circles, young man,” said the smith. “I hope I never meet that beast of yours.” He left the room and returned a moment later. “Here’s your other breastplate. I was able to knock it back into shape at least.”

  Will held it up so he could see how the light reflected from it. He couldn’t even tell where it had been dented. “You made it look like new. How do you manage that?”

  “Practice and patience,” said the smith with a proud smile. “A good solid round of buffing and polishing at the end also goes a long way toward hiding any imperfections.” He moved closer and put a hand on Will’s shoulder. “By the way, I didn’t ask, but what hit you? That dent was right in the center, the strongest part of the armor. I’d almost think you were laying down while someone pounded on you with a maul.”

  “I think it was a stone spike”.

  “A sorcerer? Who, how—never mind. Probably better that I don’t get too nosy. When I first met you, I thought it strange that a young scholar would want so much armor, but I’m starting to think you don’t wear enough.”

  “I can’t help but agree with you.”

  “Well, be careful. I’d hate to lose a good customer.”

  Will smiled. “It would break my heart if I couldn’t keep spending my gold here.” He collected his things, paid for the repairs, and soon he was on his way back to Wurthaven.

  When he was back in his room he practiced some more, and when he finally grew tired of that he summoned the limnthal so he could ask Arrogan about the breastplate. He described its color and what the smith had said regarding its strength and hardness.

  Arrogan stopped him halfway through his explanation. “You don’t have to bother telling me all that. If you got it from Leykachak’s body I already know what it is. The technical term for it is driktenspal, but no one ever used that name. It was made up by some pretentious ass who liked weird names. We called it demon-steel.”

  “Is there any way to use it?”

  “Sure. You just need to find a mage-smith familiar with the metal and the spells that make it pliable enough to be worked.”

  “A mage-smith,” muttered Will, rolling the term around in his mouth. “Where do you find one of those?”

  “You don’t, jackass!” spat Arrogan. “I killed the last two a long time ago. A mage-smith is first and foremost a wizard, and they were among those who I had to eliminate.”

  Will sighed. “Is their knowledge preserved somewhere?”

  “There’s probably books about their work here in Wurthaven, or in the library in Myrsta, but I doubt there’s anyone who has worked with the metal itself in several hundred years.”

  He thought about it for a minute. A mage-smith was probably Arrogan’s equivalent for the modern wizard engineers who trained at Wurthaven. If he was going to find someone with the background to figure out how to work with the metal, or at least put the old knowledge to use, he would probably have to start with the college Engineering Department. A project for the future, if I’m still around, he decided.

  “Is there anything else you know about demon-steel?” he asked.

  “Not really. There were legends about where it came from, of course. Some said it was mined and smelted by Madrok himself from the pits of hell, but I never put much stock in those sorts of myths. More likely it’s just a somewhat rare metal found in hell. Most of the more important demon lords wear armor made from it.”

  “That reminds me of something else. Aislinn warned me before, when I was trying to figure out what to do about the ritual. She said that if I punished the demon lord or refused to give him what he’d been promised that I would become a target. She even said that Madrok might start helping the Shimerans for a lower cost, so they could destroy me or Terabinia.”

  The ring thought about it for a moment. “She’s right, as usual, but you killed Leykachak, so I don’t think you have much to worry about.”


  “The cat killed him,” corrected Will.

  “Same difference. The thing about demons is that they don’t get along. Their hierarchy is held together by fear and power. The revenge you might expect would only be a concern if a humiliated Leykachak had to go home with his tail tucked between his legs. Then he’d use his connections and influence to try and find a way to make you suffer. Since he’s dead, the others aren’t likely to care. That’s assuming they even know who did it. You weren’t the one who initiated the ritual after all.”

  That took one concern off his shoulders. Will dismissed the limnthal and returned to practicing. He went to bed early that night and when he started again the next morning, he noticed a change when he constructed the point-defense spell. After weeks of no discernable change, the construct was beginning to come together almost effortlessly. It still wasn’t instantaneous, but he hardly had to think about it. He couldn’t help but feel hopeful that he was getting close to his goal.

  His excitement was interrupted by a knock on his door. He found Rob waiting in the hall. “I found it,” said his friend.

  “Found what—oh! The enchantment?” Will ushered Rob into the room. “How did you get the information?”

  “Veronica Wellings,” said Rob simply.

  Will just stared at him blankly, for the name meant nothing to him.

  “The redhead,” added Rob.

  Will shrugged.

  “You need to get out more,” said his friend with notable disgust. “I’m starting to think you don’t even look at girls. She’s the third-year with the flaming red hair. All the guys in her class are crazy about her. I’ve been wanting an excuse to talk to her for ages, and you, my friend, finally gave me one.”

  He nodded. “You’re very welcome.”

  “Smartass,” Rob bit back. “Anyway, after asking around I found out she’s planning to focus on Engineering in her fifth and sixth years, so she’s been paying close attention to it in her studies this year.”