Frank Poe

Month 12, Day 18, 2:00 PM

Frank had spent his morning enchanting little round disks that would pass divination rays back to a spelled street map he kept his office, then distributing them at some of the places he expected Silverling might frequent. He’d placed the first batch in the morning, and it was afternoon when he finally returned.

On return, Marie did not seem to miss Frank; she studied and read at her table without complaint. From time to time, he noticed she’d tap the toe of her new boots on the table leg and grin. They were very quiet, and apparently “bouncy.” Marie had gushed about them on the walk back to Agency yesterday.

Even that morning, the spies still spied, of course, but Poe didn’t even have to resort to diversionary magic when Marie wasn’t with him. If they broke visual contact with him, the spies pretty much forgot that they were following him. The streets of Gilbratha were plenty convoluted enough to manage it.

Annoyingly, however, the Stag spy seemed to have figured out that she should take notes. He’d caught glimpses her notebooks as she followed him. It wouldn’t be long before the Morrow spies did the same, although Jemnie didn’t seem to be literate, even though he often worked with someone. Usually he had a rail thin partner, whether male or female, Poe hadn’t discovered yet. That one usually followed Poe, while he supposed Jemnie was set to follow Marie.

People would remember Poe, he knew that much. So the spies always managed to return to the August Agency to keep watch. Poe decided he’d need to do something about that, but not today. Today he was going to test his new monitoring system. He just had a few coins placed; both spelled with unnoticeability charms and the specialty divination detector for Silverling’s token.

Frank waved at Marie, walked into his office, and sat at his desk where the scry map was waiting for him. This would just be a test, so he set the components and expected a null result. He’d just seen Silverling in the city yesterday; there was no reason for him to return. Except, it seemed that he did, because Silverling immediately pinged on the little enchanted coins he’d placed near the market. It could be a malfunction, but Frank was confident it was not.

Frank jumped up from his desk, then let Marie know he was going back out. Partly to avoid the spies, Frank walked a few blocks and hailed a cab. When he arrived at waterside market, it took him some time to locate Silverling.

When he found him, Frank was surprised to see the well-dressed man attempting to sell a small cerelium conduit. Frank did not want to be too noticeable; an apprentice of Lacer’s might very well have the clarity of will to recall Frank. But, even as Frank sulked in doorways and tried to stay in Silverling’s blind spot, Silverling was entirely to distracted by the low prices the shops were willing to offer. Frank did take a risk to get a good look at the chunk of cerelium Silverling attempted to sell. From time to time cerelium was marked, but this one was plain. It would have been a mere 25 gold when Frank last looked for a piece of it, so the prices offered, some over 50 gold, seemed high to him. Silverling, however, rejected them as too low. Frank wondered how much money did Silverling expect to get? Why was he driving such a hard bargain?

After trying a few shops, Silverling finally stomped onto the pavement. Head down in contemplation, Silverling trudged back toward the University. Frank followed.

Not far from the market, Silverling suddenly stopped. He seemed to have spotted something, although Frank couldn’t tell at first what the young man had seen. Silverling walked over to a downspout, and Frank stopped not far away, then carefully removing a seashell artifact from his coat, he held it up to an ear, and listened.

“This is a bad place to make a nest,” he said. “The rain is going to come and wash you all away.”

Frank puzzled at that for a moment, and then realized Silverling was talking to a tiny nest of Sprites at the downspout. Frank watched, fascinated, as the young thaumaturge proceeded to attempt to rescue the sprites from their poor choices. But, the adult didn’t seem to want to be moved.

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But then, Silverling did something that Frank did not expect. He expressed his will in a soothing wave. Like a druid, or animist.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered. Frank’s artifact barely caught the sound. “You are not safe. I want to take you to a new nest. It will be warm and dry there. You can trust me.” And Frank felt it; even across the street, Silvering’s words held genuine sincerity.

‘What sort of thaumaturge is he?’ Frank thought. ‘No one teaches the old ways. Not to a first term student, anyway.’ Frank used some animism at the August Agency. It helped him communicate with Frigg, and even kept him aware of the other animals that lived, even in the city, near the office. But, Silverling’s control impressed Frank. ‘Lacer isn’t training him to do this too, is he?’

This man may be young, but Frank Poe wondered what he would be like in a year. Frank had once felt competent, in contrast, this boy had Talent. Frank had long ago given up on jealousy. He hated incompetence, even in himself. Sometimes though, he would still come across amazing skill in others.

Silverling managed to coax the sprite into a scarf covered hand, and feed it honey. He gathered up the nest and headed toward the University. The sprite ate honey the entire way back to the University. Frank noted that not only did Silverling know to use his will to calm the creature, but he knew the proper way to care for one when relocating a nest.

Frank found that it wasn’t particularly difficult to follow the distracted young man. After all, the sprite had him throughly distracted. Frank could practically walk behind Silverling, and he did not notice at all.

‘What do you plan to do with the sprite, I wonder?’ Frank thought. ‘There are some very useful spell components in a sprite. Or, if he was so greedy on the value of that little chunk of cerelium, does he plan to sell the nesting sprites?’

Silverling made his way to the top of the cliffs and the University, nursing the little sprites the whole way. The tiny mother seemed to very greatly enjoy the honey Silverling fed her.

Frank had to negotiate a visitor’s pass, but he managed to catch up with Silverling by a tree not far away. Frank leaned against a tree at a distance, and watched, to his surprise, that Silverling was digging out a space at the base of tree for the sprites to have a new nest.

Several girls had noticed Frank watching, and they joined him in curiously watching Silverling’s behavior as well. Frank had to keep his listening artifact discreet, so he put it away. They whispered to each other, and Frank did not bother listening. But one girl’s curiosity finally reached the point she decided asking a stranger was preferable to ignorance.

“What is he doing? Do you know?” She asked Frank.

“Relocating a sprite nest.” Frank replied.

“Oh! They are very pretty, aren’t they? Its so kind of him!” The girl said to her friend.

When Silverling was done, he whispered something that Frank didn’t catch, and Frank observed him head toward the dormitories. Frank reckoned Silverling was unlikely to lead him to the Raven Queen, and he let the young man go.

“Let’s go see the nest!” The girl said to her friend, and the headed over. Frank trailed behind. Uncertain what he expected, Frank saw Silverling had protected the nest from wind and rain, and had added a component that would warm it.

‘This cost him money.’ Frank wondered. ‘What sort of person does this?’ Frank felt uncomfortable in his thoughts; it was inconsistent with a young entitled thaumaturge. ‘This is someone associated with the Raven Queen?’

Frank expected cruelty or ambition, but the man gave up real income and even magical components to help a sprite live, even though he’d just wandered through shops trying to sell a cerelium conduit for the most gold possible.

Frank had to admire Silverling, a little bit. Even when he obviously did not care if others saw, Silverling would help even what most thaumaturges thought was no more than an interesting bug.

Frank observed the girls cooing over the little sprite larva, and he smiled. He vowed he would keep an open mind with Silverling. The young sorcerer had that unusual quality few ambitious thaumaturges had: empathy.

Silverling had not lead Frank to the Raven Queen, but Frank reckoned this would always have been the most time-consuming way to find Siobhan Naught. Silverling was the best connection he had outside the Stags, so, Frank would continue following him.

But, as he watched the little sprite feed her babies, Frank realized that he hoped the Raven Queen had not used Silverling after all. Silverling did not deserve it.