With directions from Sir Clonk, Gideon passed through a series of winding hallways until he reached the central keep. He noticed several holes in the ceiling as he walked, with half-full buckets of water sitting underneath them. It was clear the castle had not been repaired in quite some time, but it occurred to him he had no idea how old Kelvan was or how long he’d been in the mirror. Maybe these kinds of issues were expected in a centuries-old castle.

While walking down a long, barely lit stone hallway that supposedly led to the keep's main hall, he heard a scuffling sound behind him and turned to see two reddish-purple eyes glowing in the shadows. Gideon jumped backward, his hand instinctively stretching out as he prepared to cast a spell. But then the creature squeaked and ran down a side passage. Gideon thought it had squeaked like a rat, but if so, it must have been an enormous rat considering the height of its eyes above the floor.

Shaking his head, Gideon kept walking until he emerged into the great hall. The large room had a high, vaulted ceiling and furniture covered in drop cloths. Judging from their shape, chairs, sofas, and coffee tables were arranged as if this room had once hosted large parties. A fireplace was against one wall, with a large oil painting above it. The oil painting depicted a landscape Gideon didn’t recognize. A dragon was flying over a majestic chasm. Gideon kicked up some dust with his footsteps and coughed as he walked. Did they ever clean this place? Obviously not.

Thankfully, his destination was right where Clonk had said it was—at the far end of the room, a small door led to a spiral stone staircase. Steeling himself, Gideon descended, heading down into the heart of the mountain. Unlike the parts of the castle he’d been in before, the walls here were bare stone, without any paintings or other decoration. The staircase was steep, and in the dim light, Gideon felt his way with one hand on the central pillar, careful not to trip. At the bottom, a short passage led to a pair of large wooden doors, flanked on either side by the magical blue lamps found throughout the castle.

One of the doors was slightly open, and Gideon moved forward to knock but stopped when he heard voices.

“I just don’t understand,” Kelvan was saying. “Considering his lack of skill, I would have begged for such an opportunity if I were him!”

“You’re not him,” Ondine replied. “And perhaps he did not appreciate being called a minion. Just a thought.”

“Bah,” Kelvan said. “You know I’m not good at managing personnel. Even when they’re my own family.”

“Perhaps especially then, my Lord. How long have you been trying to find someone who can attune to the castle’s keystone? And yet, no takers.”

“I’m still annoyed no one told me about this scheme,” Grimsby said, and Gideon shuddered at the sound of his bones rattling. “I assumed we had all given up.”

Gideon knew he shouldn’t eavesdrop, but he could hardly stop listening. He held his breath, leaning close to the gap in the doorway, hanging on every word.

“Damned hells. How many letters have I sent?”

“Seventy-eight by my count, my Lord,” Ondine replied. “In other words, you’re almost out of relatives, even distant ones.”

Gideon’s eyes widened. So he wasn’t the first person to receive such a letter? It made sense, of course. It would have been naive to think Gideon was the only blood relative of Kelvan Kastorus who still lived or that he would have been his Great-Uncle’s first choice. Though admittedly, Gideon did have a lot of experience as a “minion,” didn’t he? So perhaps he was a natural fit.

“I’m well aware of that,” Kelvan said. “So far, he’s the only one who’s shown up.”

“At first I assumed he was a traveler who’d gotten lost. He must be particularly desperate. I warned you, my Lord, that your message was hard to believe. Inheriting a castle? It sounds like a scam.”

“Or like you’re luring them out here to harvest their organs,” Grimsby added.

“Not helpful,” Kelvan muttered.

Gideon blushed. Had he really been so foolish to come here? In any event, he had eavesdropped long enough. It was hardly becoming of him to hide outside the door like a spy. He straightened his back, took a deep breath, then knocked.

There was a long silence, then Kelvan answered, “You may enter.”

Gideon poked his head around the door and slipped inside. Kelvan’s mirror was resting on a mantle at the far end of the lab, and Ondine and Grimsby were standing to either side of him. All three looked at Gideon expectantly, and he felt his cheeks grow warm. Grimsby, in particular, looked none too pleased.

Based on his limited experience, Gideon thought the laboratory was remarkably well equipped. Bookshelves stacked high with tomes and scrolls entirely covered one wall. At the center of the opposite wall was a large golden vault door, currently closed, surrounded by a border of brightly glowing blue and green runes. Gideon wasn’t sure where that led, but it looked very secure. A few large workbenches sat in the middle of the room, their surfaces clean, gleaming metal. Another set of shelves in the back corner held bins of softly glowing crystals, and another had a collection of vials and flasks containing all manner of reagents.

“Wow,” Gideon said. “Quite the setup you’ve got here, Lord Kelvan.” Though he’d never seen the laboratories at Falconridge, he knew this place must give them a run for their money. He cleared his throat. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

Kelvan raised an eyebrow in the mirror. “How much did you hear, Nephew?”

There was no point in lying. “More than I probably should have.”

“Ah.” Kelvan inclined his head, his eyes downcast. “I suppose you came to tell me you’ll be leaving in the morning, then? Grimsby will escort you back to the road.”

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“I will?” Grimsby asked, grumbling.

“No, actually, I came to ask you about your offer, Lord Kelvan. I think I’ve had enough of being a minion, but perhaps I would consider being an associate? Or a valued employee?”

“Best we can do is trusted lackey,” Grimsby said, cackling.

“Hush, Grimsby. Though normally amusing, your asides are not at all helpful in this situation,” Kelvan said, staring down the skeleton with haunting red eyes. “Grimsby and Ondine, leave us. Gideon and I have some things to discuss. In private.”

Grimsby shrugged his shoulder bones and scampered out, as Ondine floated silently behind him. She gave Gideon a soft smile before departing.

After they were gone, a chair slid out from one of the nearby workbenches and rotated to face Gideon.

“Please, have a seat,” Kelvan said.

Even trapped in a mirror, it appeared he possessed skill at telekinesis, a branch of gravimancy. Gideon couldn’t help but be impressed as he sat down. “So, uh, what do you propose, Lord Kelvan? And while we’re at it, what’s a keystone?”

In the mirror, the man flinched as if Gideon had slapped him. “So you really did hear an uncomfortable amount.” He sighed, then waved his hand dismissively. “One thing at a time, Nephew. First, I should apologize for earlier. Back when I was alive, minion was not a derogatory word. I suppose times have changed.”

Gideon laughed. “If you say so, Great-Uncle. Let’s just say you’re not the worst boss, or potential boss, I’ve talked to tonight. So don’t worry about it.”

“Good, good. So, your role as my associate would be simple. While I am trapped in this mirror, certain tasks are impossible for me. Similarly, my other associates, though outstanding in their respective fields, have their own limitations. You could say there is a gap in my organization. A gap I hope to fill.”

“Uh-huh,” Gideon said, nodding. “And that is?”

“Only a living soul can advance. I’d hoped you would be farther along, but it is clear to me now that you were an impoverished youth, so I do not wish to hold your meager level against you.”

“How kind of you.” Gideon rolled his eyes. “Listen, I wasn’t impoverished, okay! I didn’t have it easy, but it wasn’t as bad as you seem to imply. The world is a different place now. In my village, most people never made it past level three even as adults. My supervisor at work was only level six.”

“It is worse than I feared,” Kelvan said, frowning. “You live in a country that does not exist, with barely any magic to speak of.”

Gideon laughed. “We have plenty of magic. Listen, you must have some artifacts around here, right? Powerful, but you don’t need to know magic to use them?”

“Ah yes, like the Mystic Broomstone.”

Mystic Broomstone? It sweeps? Gideon shook his head. “Well listen, imagine that in Prospera City, there’s not just a Broomstone, there’s a Lightstone and a Heatstone and a Laundrystone, and so on.”

“How short-sighted. What do you do if your Broomstone breaks?”

“Well, there are places you can get it repaired. But to be honest, most people throw it in the trash and buy a new one.”

“Dear Gods,” Kelvan said and shook his head sadly. “I will confess that my knowledge of the outside world is limited. Ondine cannot leave the castle grounds, Grimsby terrifies anyone who encounters him, and sooner or later, someone always gets curious and tries to take off Sir Clonk’s helmet. Our efforts at interacting with the locals have ended poorly.”

“I was wondering what Clonk looked like under the armor,” Gideon admitted.

“Uh, there is nothing under the armor,” Kelvan replied.

“Oh,” Gideon said, then raised his eyebrows. “Oh! I guess that explains a lot.” He shook his head, chuckling. “Your letter used outdated vocabulary, too, by the way. But I thought it was just fancy legalese. No one says ‘erstwhile’ these days.”

The more Gideon thought about it, the more foolish he felt for falling for Kelvan’s letter. But perhaps, in his foolishness, he had stumbled upon a new opportunity.

If he was willing to take a chance on it.

“So,” Kelvan said. “In this Prospera, I don’t suppose they make stones of resurrection? Or a stone that will transfer a soul into a new body?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Then your primary duty as my associate will be to advance in level and skill until you have sufficient power to perform such a ritual.”

“I didn’t even know magic like that was possible.” If such a spell even exists, it must take at least a level hundred wizard to cast it, Gideon thought.

“It is possible, in fact. Before the unfortunate events that led to me being trapped inside this mirror, I was very close to performing such a feat myself, Nephew. With my tutelage, your success is guaranteed.”

“I’ll do my best,” Gideon said carefully. “But, listen, I don’t know how long you expect this to take, but—”

“You will find I am extremely patient, Nephew, don’t worry. I do not have an unrealistic deadline for success. Perhaps a few decades or so.”

“Even then. Sorry, Lord Kelvan, but I’m not going to lie to you. I’ve been stuck at level four for almost five years. I haven’t advanced at all.”

“And what has your training regimen been during this time?”

“Well, mostly I’ve been casting [Toughness] on gardening tools. Or [Sharpen].”

“Then of course you haven’t advanced, Nephew.” He rubbed his forehead and heaved out a sigh. “Have you learned any new spells? Practiced more difficult workings? Prepared yourself to advance to Silver in geomancy? You are close.”

“I was trying at first, during the first year. But by the time I got home from work, I was usually so low on mana it was hard to practice without passing out. That’s when I learned [Hail of Stone], and I wanted to learn [Quake] next, but I never quite got the hang of it.”

“Hmm,” Kelvan said, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “Now I understand. This new country of yours, with all its wondrous gadgets and artifacts. It is a charming seductress, but though its boot is made from supple leather, it stomps upon you all the same.”

Gideon sighed. “I take your point.”

“In my day, boy, every spell I cast was for myself. Myself and no one else!” His eyes seemed to glow more fiercely as he stared down at Gideon from the mantle. “Mana is the energy produced by the furnace of your soul. It is your life. One day the flame will run out. Do not squander your essence on gardening tools. From now on, you must direct your efforts more wisely. I can help you with that.” He grinned, yellowed teeth gleaming. “In short, your task from now on is to become the most powerful wizard in the world. Besides me, of course.”

Gideon couldn’t help but smile, even if it seemed like an impossible goal. He didn’t know about most powerful, but he was ready to progress himself and get a magical education like he’d always dreamed of. He could hardly do worse than he had for the last five years.

“Though admittedly,” Kelvan added, “that is a very long-term objective. In the short term, there are a lot of holes in the roof to fix. And the Western wing of the castle has a very serious rat problem. With Sir Clonk’s leave of absence, I’m afraid these tasks must fall to you and Grimsby.” He smiled as if trying to reassure Gideon, which had the opposite effect. “Then there is the matter of your compensation. Though the castle’s vault once held a fortune, I’m afraid our finances have been strained as of late. If you have any ideas to increase our revenues, I am open to suggestions. You will find that this organization fosters open communication and values feedback from our minio—I mean, associates. But for the time being, I hope you would be willing to work for room and board, with the promise of an ample salary once our situation has improved.”

Gideon sighed and put his face in his hands. Ah, he thought, I should have known. Still, it can hardly be worse than EnviroCharm, right?

Right?

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