I was in the middle of an extremely difficult problem that my master had set for me when the bell rang. I cursed the gods-awful melody that he had set up, but was mature enough to admit that it got my attention. I made a few notes quickly, trying to save the thought I’d just had, which I was certain was the key to the question, and headed down the stairs to the front door.
I muttered the command word for the scrying stone set into the wall by the door, a sensible precaution that my master had set up some years ago after an old enemy had sent an assassin after him, but I recognised the faces outside. All four of the local town council stood there, nervously avoiding looking at the door or each other. My eyes rolled in irritation – the fools would not be content with what I would have to say, and I did not relish the demands they were likely to lay before me.
I opened the door with another command word, and stepped forwards, my most professional smile plastered onto my face.
“Greetings, goodfolk.” I began. “My master regrets he is unable to offer any assistance at this time, being currently on something of an excursion. May I offer any help to you?”
“Oh, hello, boy,” said the elderly man at the head of the small group. “We’re the Lissfield council. We were here to speak to your master, but he isn’t here.”
“The child just said that, you idiot.” snapped the stocky woman behind him. “Shit, I can’t believe I had to go all this way just to turn right around and go right back. At least it’s bloody downhill.”
“Forgive me, but I am no child.” I said, speaking firmly and restraining my irritation to try and avoid having my voice crack. “I am Master Qavin's apprentice, Imlach, and quite accomplished myself. Perhaps this is something I might assist with? Would you care to come in to at least discuss why you made the trip from your town?”
“That does seem sensible.” the first man nodded, and I gestured for him to follow me into what my master called his reception room. It was a rather beautifully appointed room with several chaises lounge and two comfortable armchairs arranged about a low round wooden table. I lit the large fire with a small cantrip, and sat in the left-hand armchair, the less well-appointed one.
“Please take care not to sit in my master’s seat – you would not enjoy the results, I fear.” I said, gesturing in a sweeping, grand fashion to the other armchair. I called out another command word, and ordered the spirit that appeared to bring through refreshments for the group.
After they had seated themselves, and I had coughed pointedly at the muscular middle-aged man who had thumped his muddy boots up on to my master’s expensive Arumite table. The stocky woman slapped the boots off with a huff, and a slight trail of mud was left behind. I frowned at it, and the man enough courtesy to blush, but not enough to apologise for the faux pas. The spirit - which would normally be invisible, but for a rather brilliant alteration by my master that had given it a pure white glow that made it seem like a small misty humanoid - entered the room carrying a pitcher of cold juice, several glasses and some small sandwiches on a three-tiered plate. With a hiss that could have been annoyance if the thing had had any form of sentience, the mud was swiped from the table in a small whirlwind that also managed to clean off a few smudges that had gathered on the varnished walnut.
The gathered men and woman began to share out the drinks and sandwiches, the muscular man making horrendous noises as he ate and somehow drank with his mouth open, the liquid dripping down and into his short brown beard. I couldn’t keep the disgust from my face as I turned my focus to the older man who seemed to be in charge.
“So,” I began, “How may my master and I assist you?”
“Well, young man, it is quite complex.” the man started.
“It is not complicated, it is quite simple.” the woman snorted. “Someone keeps stealing from us, and we can’t catch him.”
“Yes, it’s simply explained but it’s been three months, and we’ve had no luck locating the culprit, or even finding out how they committed their crimes. It is beyond time we asked for help.”
“Yes, yes, I suppose I agree.” she sighed, folding her arms.
“Forgive me, but crime is neither my master’s speciality nor mine.” I said, at something of a loss. “I don’t know how I can help you.”
“My father used to tell me the tale of Master Qavin’s solving of the murder of Fenik Firebrand.” the leader said.
“And he got my uncle’s painting of Gautian leading the charge into Bedeneth back from the thief.” The woman nodded.
“And I once saw him cast a great fire wall that incinerated a whole band of marauding Orcs.” said the last man, who had not spoken yet. I looked at him, hoping my contempt was hidden, but feared it was not.
“Yes, he did all those things, though I am unsure how the last point is relevant. Very well, I will look into the problem, though I cannot guarantee results. My master will not return for some months yet, and he is not due to call in to speak for another fortnight. When he does, should the problem not be resolved, I shall ask him for his thoughts.”
“That is all we ask.” the leader said, standing with a massive smile across his face. “Shall we wait for you to pack your things, or would you prefer to join us later? Perhaps you will fly in on Qavin’s magical carpet?”
“No, I will join with you.” I said. “My master took the carpet with him when he left, sadly. Plus, it would be a waste of the magics to use it for such a minor journey.”
“Indeed, young man, indeed.” the first man said, stroking the ridiculous thin moustache that hovered just above his lip and about as far away from his nose as it was possible to get. It looked like it would take an insane level of care, and I assured myself I wouldn’t ever grow one – when my beard grew in, anyway.
I uttered another command word, and the spirit appeared again, this time carrying a backpack filled with several basic spell components and ritual equipment, as well as a few more mundane necessities. I hoisted it onto my back, grunting a little at the unexpected weight of the expensive portal bag. It was supposed to weigh barely 30%, yet I still struggled. But then I never was one for the physical realm after discovering the arcane, preferring to develop the muscles of my mind instead.
We headed out, and to the horses that my guests had brought with them. They had thoughtfully brought a spare for me, though of course I could have conjured one from the Fae realms, it was useful to not have to expend my energies this early in the investigation. I mounted easily, having spent many hours learning to ride, at my master’s insistence. I muttered the command word to the tower’s security fields, adding the short string that triggered a message to my master, letting him know I was leaving the tower, and of my own will.
The tower was a good few miles from the town walls, and I used the opportunity to introduce myself to the council members – I had never remembered their names, and this seemed like the perfect time to make sure I didn’t make any faux pas later. The council head, the man with the silly moustache, was Ledil Evetsen, while the muscular man with the muddy boots was Edirk Mandvir, the head of the town’s guard. The woman was Anema Virstal, and was the council’s representative to the merchant community, though if anyone looked less like my mental image of a merchant it was her. The last man, the slightly pathetic-looking one who had been impressed by a simple flame wall, was Girgan Plausten, and apparently was the farming community’s representative. My impression of him did not grow better through the short ride, as he spent it in frivolous chatter, filling the silence with irrelevant nothing. I had no idea why I should pay attention to crop rotation, or why he seemed to find irrigation so utterly fascinating.
The town walls came into view far too slowly for my liking, and I could see Anema sigh in relief as Girgan stopped talking abruptly as the gate came closer. I hoped my smirk was better hidden, but the sharp glance she gave me suggested otherwise.
We were waved quickly past the guards once they recognised the group, and headed down the single long road that bisected the town. There were other streets, of course, but this was the only one paved – the others were cobbled. Although now that I looked, it seemed that they were in the midst of paving another road – the one that headed towards the wealthier area of town and the Lord’s winter home, which was not a great surprise. The town centre was a great square with a patch of grass and several rather lonely and out of place trees, and a rather large fountain placed annoyingly off-centre. It was worse every time I looked at it – there were awful carvings and statues everywhere, absolutely no consistency or art to them. There was a statue of Beris with his longbow pointed at Mylin with her tiger-skin coat, for the sake of all that is holy. And there was Hekistal with her blade, but it was a ridiculously massive two-handed thing, and not the scimitar it was meant to be! I had to look away, as I was just getting more annoyed at every thing I saw.
“It is quite lovely isn’t it?” Ledil smiled at me. “We had an artist come in from the capital to design it.”
“It’s certainly eye-catching.” I said. My mother had always been very firm on the idea of not saying anything negative where it could be avoided, and I felt that I had very successfully avoided offending him when I saw his happy smile. I was not so certain that Anema had missed my clever parry of the conversation when I saw her shoulders shuddering slightly as she rubbed her mouth with one hand.
The town hall was fairly standard, as these things go – a stone building with the columned porch that every self-important council seemed to install the second they had the opportunity, and the ubiquitous adventurer’s job board posted as far away from the building as it could be without being obvious.
We left the horses with a few children in Lord Firus’ uniform of grey and orange, and headed into the ridiculous building. It had been decorated by someone who had probably read once about good taste, but not quite understood the concept of restraint – there was far too much gold and green and crystal, and every chair seemed to be covered in soft leather or velvet. As a final insult to my eyes, the curtains were a quilted-effect with diamonds of the same velvet and leather, which made them hang appallingly unnaturally.
The room we ended in was more of the same, with the addition of a thick cream carpet that swallowed my feet, and must have been a nightmare for the servants – especially with the amount of mud that Edirk was tracking in – seriously, did he just walk through every puddle he could find?
There was a town map embedded into a large square table in the middle of the room, and we pulled away the chairs around it in order to get closer. I took the opportunity to drop the heavy backpack onto the floor, wincing slightly at the loud thump. Ledil opened up a drawer at the top of the table, and pulled out a handful of small flags, placing them across the map, mostly on the river side.
“I’ve marked the warehouses that have been attacked.” Ledil explained, though frankly that was obvious.
“Do we have an order to it all?” I asked as I looked them map over. “Have we got a list of who was stolen from, dates and so on?”
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“I can get that for you, if you think it will help.” Ledil said, his tone indicating scepticism.
“I don’t know what will help yet.” I explained. “My master always says that that an unsolvable puzzle just means you haven’t got the right amount of information yet.”
Ledil nodded in what I suspected he thought was a wise manner, and called out for someone called Rosa. The woman who entered could not have been more than twenty, a tall, beautiful woman with long dark red hair, her figure well set off by the green dress that she wore. It was a little low in the chest for capital society, but by the way that the men’s eyes followed her, they didn’t seem to mind.
“Rosa, we’ll need a list of the robberies, including the dates and victims, please.” Ledil said, his eyes barely lifting past the woman’s neck. She smiled and nodded, and put the sheaf of papers she was carrying onto the table.
“I took the liberty of presuming that would be your intent.” she said, her voice warm and friendly. “Everything you need should be in this package.”
I thanked her, and slid the papers into my backpack.
“I’d like to take a look at a few of the warehouses, to see if I can detect any magical energies. I imagine that a teleportation spell was used, but I’d like to be sure.”
“We thought that, too, but it can’t be teleportation.” Amena said. “All the warehouses have wards placed on them to stop magical interference.”
“Well, that’s that out of the window then.” I sighed. “Still though, I would like to review the areas, to see if there’s anything I can discover. Again, more data helps me build a picture of what happened.”
Rosa smiled at me, dimples creasing the freckles in her cheeks, and I rolled my eyes at the men, whose eyes were glued to her buttocks when she walked away. Amena grinned at me and shrugged as if to say, ‘what can you do?’
I flicked through the pack of information while the others were talking quietly to each other, obviously trying to not involve me, and I didn’t like to be rude and try to eavesdrop. The pack was surprisingly well-filled – plenty of information about each theft, the companies and merchants involved, as well as the teams who had created the wards. I was surprised to see so many wardsmiths being involved in this small town – out of seven thefts, four different wardsmiths had been employed, none more than twice. I made a mental note to check them out if needed, as while my master was not a ward expert, he certainly knew enough to have been easily able to perform such a simple task. I felt vaguely offended on his behalf, but after all my master was far too busy to do such menial tasks, so I doubted he would have agreed.
The conversation broke up, and I approached them.
“I would like to inspect the crime scenes, if we can.” I said. “Would one of you mind coming with me? I suspect I will need to borrow your authority for this.”
“A good thought.” Ledil smiled. “Perhaps you, Edirk, as the representative of the law?”
“I’ve got better things to do than play escort to the boy.” Edirk snorted. “Send Amena, it’s her people.”
“I don’t imagine it matters which of you comes with me.” I sighed. “Amena, I would welcome your assistance though.”
“I’m happy to help.” Amena laughed. “Edirk would be bored by something that doesn’t involve hitting drunk adventurers of an evening.”
Edirk’s face reddened, and he stepped forward, mouth open to speak.
“Please, let’s not antagonise each other.” I sighed, interrupting him. I picked up the backpack with a hiss of physical effort, and swung it onto my back with a grunt. Feeling rather disgruntled, I headed out of the room, assuming that Amena would follow.
Luckily, she was just behind me as I left the town hall, as I hadn’t really planned for what might happen if she didn’t, and we walked together towards the river that passed through the west of the town.
The dock area was, unsurprisingly, filthy and smelled of whatever effluent the city produced and dumped into the river, which was an utterly disgusting melange of browns and greys. Ships crowded this side of the river, men and women carrying boxes and goods across the wood and stone, and smaller boats ferried people across the river to the other side, which held still more ships and more warehouses, as well as the worst of the industries – I was very glad that I was downwind of the tanneries at least, having grown up near some, I wasn’t keen on reliving that particular memory.
The first warehouse was unsurprisingly dull looking – a large boxy building made of red bricks, worn and covered in aging stains. The wall we approached was essentially one giant metal door that slid to one side, allowing the wagons that delivered goods to come and go as needed, and was covered in scratches that might look arcane to someone without any arcane knowledge at all. Amena spoke briefly to the guardsmen at the doorway, and they gestured for us to head in.
The building was essentially a massive shell, filled with shelves that stacked all the way up to the ceiling, all holding boxes of varying colours, stamped with the names of the cities they were bound for, as well as, ‘Markal Fenar Enterprises,’ the company that owned the warehouse. I headed inside, and dropped the backpack on the floor. Opening it, I drew out my ritual equipment, and drew the circle with chalk made from a few hard to locate ingredients – imp bone dust, calcified fae wood, that sort of thing. Extremely expensive stuff, if you weren’t a powerful archmage like my master who could easily traverse planes to collect whatever was needed.
I sat inside the circle – though frankly misnamed, as the most effective ritual space is more oblong, with a square inside – and marked out the sigils relevant to summoning the right energies. This was possibly the simplest ritual, and was the first I had learned – to detect magic.
The world shifted subtly, coruscating colours flooding the world before I applied my will to my sight, and the aurora calmed enough that the headache that was threatening me failed to hit. The main ward was in the centre of the building, hovering in mid-air. Wards are complex sigils - they look similar to the uninitiated, but wards hold power and have effects, while sigils carry power and enable effects. I mean, that’s not a perfect explanation, but it does for the moment.
I took out my notepad and made a copy of the ward – using a normal pencil to avoid infusing it with any magics - then went around the walls and made copies of each minor supporting ward. They all looked to be fairly standard protective wards, but I wanted to be sure. I titled the drawings carefully, and carefully put the pad away. I looked around for a moment longer, but there was no sign of anything breaching the wards at any point. There was also no sign of any teleporting, but given it had been just over three months since the theft that wasn’t too much of a surprise. These energies barely last days, and although the more powerful the spell, the longer they last, this was far too long ago for anything to be detectable now.
Amena took me on a journey of all the crime scenes, and I conducted my rituals at each spot. Sadly, we were too late for any obvious traces, and each spot held identical wards and sigils to the first place.
The day was near done, and I decided to head back to the tower – I had all my books and notes there, and I wanted to go over the wards, to make sure there wasn’t anything obvious that I’d missed. I was pretty sure I hadn’t, but it would be nice to be certain. Luckily, I had left myself enough energies to summon a minor animal spirit as a mount which took me home rather quicker than my earlier trip.
I ate a quick meal laid out by the elemental servant before heading into the main room, where I laid out the notes and drawings I’d taken. I organised the notes into incidents, marking them by location. The wards I laid out on top, and drew out my master’s books on warding.
I ran through each ward, and confirmed that they were in fact identical, which I thought was helpful. They were extremely simple too, and quite limited. I confirmed that they would prevent access to anyone looking to just walk past the area outlined by the sigils, as well as causing a sound if anyone broke a window or tried to assault the walls. They had included the anti-magic elements as well, which would stop anyone teleporting in or out by arcane or divine means. I hissed to myself in annoyance, and moved on to the next point I had thought of. The ward had the full cubic coverage, which would have stopped anyone jumping down into an empty shell.
My next thought was about the items stolen – had there been any connection there? Markal Fenar had lost a few boxes of a very nice wine, Silens Durar was out some shockingly expensive jewellery that had obviously been far too portable for the thief to pass up, Fortune’s Breath Coster was missing some bespoke weaponry... The only link that I could see was that they were all things that could be carried away fairly easily – probably targets of opportunity rather than the result of any kind of planning. I found a note from Rosa that indicated that they’d checked with various ‘contacts’ and nothing that had been stolen was showing up in any of the less than legal markets. Either the thief was holding on to the goods for a really long time, or they were selling it a significant distance away. Rosa had managed to speak to most major markets for the neighbouring kingdoms, which was an impressive achievement I thought. She seemed like an incredibly efficient woman, and I wondered what she was doing in a minor town like Lissfield. Though, given her beauty and Lord Firus’ supposed taste for women who were not his wife, I had a series of probably unfair assumptions about that. My master always chided me for listening to prurient gossip, but usually blamed it on my age and gender. ‘Young men assume sex in every event.’ he was fond of saying, before pointing out that I had other, more academic, outlets for those energies that were far more lucrative in the long run.
I slept late, but woke early, a new plan flashing to mind. I took a long look into the wardsmiths involved – none based in Lissfield, which wasn’t surprising given there weren’t any in the town. Fiel’s Wards and BindWorks were from Highfort, the capital, while Exolia was based in Stewark and Guran Warder was from Foreith. The first three were based somewhat locally, all within forty miles or so and all part of Alveran. Foreith was a city in Durance, the neighbouring country, which would have been odd if the only company that had hired them wasn’t Strolien’s Merchantry, which was based out of Foreith. It made sense to use a local talent, after all.
I stopped, for a second, and laughed. Yes, that was it, wasn’t it? It must be.
I made a few calls using my master’s scrying mirror, and confirmed my suspicions. Then, I summoned the fae steed, and headed into town. Rosa directed me to Amena again, and we headed on another little expedition to the docks.
We picked up Ledil and Edirk, plus a few other guards, and headed towards Havert’s Herbs, the local alchemist and potion seller. I have always liked alchemists – the smell of drying herbs is wonderful, and usually puts me in a good mood for the rest of the day. Today, however, there was a nasty feeling in my gut.
We were greeted with professional enthusiasm by the man behind the counter, an enthusiasm that faded quickly when he saw us.
“Morning Jalin.” Edirk rumbled. “We’ve got a few issues we need to run through with you – mind if we close up and pop in the back?”
Jalin Havert went white, and gestured for us to follow him. One of the guards locked the door, and we headed into the back room.
There were more herbs here, and limited space. Jalin sat on his chair, behind a desk, fidgeting and rolling over creaky floorboards.
“You’re trained in wards, Havert?” Edirk asked, arms crossed over his massive chest.
“A small amount, yes – not anything major.”
“You’ve been quite busy. Lots of places have you as their local help.”
“Well, it’s a nice sideline.” Jalin croaked.
“That’s not your only sideline, is it?” Amena laughed, bitterly. “Dammit, we trusted you.”
“It’s not illegal to help out old friends.” Jalin protested. “It’s just a bit of wardwork.”
“Except it’s not, is it.” I said, stepping forward. “You’ve been making faulty wards. Ones that allow entry from people with a specific sign. Ones that you’ve been using to steal from the merchants of this town.”
“Those wards are perfect!” the man snapped, though I wasn’t sure why he was still trying.
“They are now.” I laughed. “Or as perfect as a hedge wizard like you can manage anyway. Not only are there witnesses to you coming in after the thefts to reset the wards, but I’ve checked three other locations that you’ve worked on, and they all have your original, faulty, ward. I’m guessing that the stolen goods are in your basement, through that hatch that you’re so desperately failing to conceal by sitting on it.”
“That’ll be all the proof we need, Jalin.” Edirk grinned, leaning heavily on the man’s desk. I fought to stop from rolling my eyes at the man’s intimidation theatrics, enough that I nearly missed Jalin’s furtive movement towards the silver ring on his left little finger. I was deeply grateful that I had prepared for this eventuality as I muttered the command word for the little stone in my pocket – the one that created an area where – albeit briefly - magic would no longer work. The teleportation spell that Jalin tried to cast flashed and failed, and Jalin sunk lower into his chair, staring at the ring in abject disbelief.
“Well, I think that’s all I’m needed for.” I said to Edirk, who was pulling the man to his feet and removing the magical device. “Please do let me know if you will need me to provide evidence at the Lord’s Assizes.”
I left as the alchemist burst into quite unattractive tears. It’s never exactly pleasant watching anyone cry, but I always think men are particularly bad at it. There was some rather dull blather about debts and threats, but frankly I didn’t believe that I was needed for that.
By the time I reached home again, I was rather looking forward to returning to the significantly more complex puzzle that my master had set me. I was almost certain I had cracked it now, and I was looking forward to surprising him with the answer when he returned.