‘What’s on the agenda today?’ asked Master Malote.

‘You’re not going to like this. I can imagine your reaction now. Unbelievable! “Who are you talking about? Who’s you?” I hear you ask. And to that, I say, “All of you! None of you are going to like this.”’ Master Keating rambled on, waving his hands to point at all the attendees at the Court of Assistants.

‘Did someone complain about the cost of being admitted to the Livery of this Guild again?’ said Master Rodber, who was, as Claribel reminded her, the Guild’s Treasurer.

‘It’s… worse. How much worse? You can only imagine. Wait for it…’

‘I already am,’ Master Rodber muttered under his breath.

‘Master Grayham has raised a request for us to review our name.’

‘I am crystal clear that my name is Master Malote,’ said the man who was clearly Master Malote, ‘and your name is Master Keating. No further discussion needed.’

‘He objects to us, and by us, I mean all of us gathered here, at this moment… He objects to us being called the Court of Assistants…’

Master Malote swore. ‘Do I even want to know why?’

‘He says…’ Master Keating took on a robotic voice that supposedly mimicked Master Grayham’s, ‘since we are the Guild of Mages, we should make ourselves sound more magical. He says we shouldn’t call ourselves something as mundane as the Court of Assistants.’

Was this what life was? Endless arguments about what to call a thing that didn’t matter when there was a child to feed and a murder to solve?

‘What the… Every Guild has a Court of Assistants! Guildmaster, Warden, three Lower Wardens and five Assistants – slap a name on it and call it the Court of Assistants. It’s got nothing to do with the Mages part and everything to do with the Guild part. You can be an Assistant to a Mage. You can be an Assistant to a Barber. You can be an Assistant to a Blacksmith. It’s not about the Master you’re assisting, is it?’

‘You and I understand that, Master Malote, but this is what Master Grayham wants to question, so we have to question it thoroughly,’ said Master Rodber. ‘After all, he always pays for his Livery on time, so…’

Money was king, here, there, everywhere.

The Guildmaster groaned. ‘Doesn’t mean I can’t pray that his hams always go as grey as his name implies. What does he want to call us then?’

‘The Court of ahem.’ Master Keating scoffed down his piece of pie, but not fast enough to genuinely cough. He shuffled his scroll and drew a long drink from his tankard.

The C-word. It had to be the C-word.

One of the Earth Mages – ~Master Symonem,~ Claribel proffered – cleared his throat with more grace. ‘All life returns to earth.’

All eyes turned to Ari.

~I usually interpret for Master Symonem. The other Masters can find his words hard to understand.~

‘He is simply saying that it is no use to delay the inevitable, so he wants to urge Master Keating to speak now.’

‘Thank the Fated One,’ said Master Keating. ‘I thought he wanted me to die. Sadly I don’t have the confidence to win in a fight against you, Master Symonem. I think you’d be able to bury all my flames and–’

‘I think he really might kill you if you don’t get a move on,’ said Master Rodber.

‘All right. All right. Calm down! He wants to call it the Court of… Confoundment.’

The word described the expression on every Master’s face perfectly.

‘Master Claribel,’ said Master Malote, ‘get this down. We discussed Master Grayham’s proposal at length, addressing the pros and cons, and arrived at the unanimous decision of zero for, ten against. Next. And keep it brief, if you please, Master Keating. I am going to the barber to get my beard trimmed afterwards, and I’d like there to be enough light so that he won’t slit my throat by accident.’

‘Right… Erm… Next is…’ Master Keating shuffled his scrolls and squinted at a long line of numbers.

‘I’ll summarise,’ said Master Rodber. ‘The tavern La Petite Mort has applied to this Court to become a Bronze Guild-Approved Vendor of mage-marked food and beverages. Our current annual request for payment in order to inspect and approve a tavern sits at five crowns. I am in favour of raising this by a raven. Demand for mage-marked food has increased in the past year with the increased number of mages. What I propose is a simple raise of less than seven percent.’

The others nodded in agreement.

‘We will need to send one of the Masters from this Court to La Petite Mort to certify them,’ said Master Malote, scratching his beard, ‘along with two non-Court non-Masters for bronze-level approval.’

Master Symonem cleared his throat again and offered his wisdom to the Court. ‘The gems extracted from the earth shine more brightly after being cut and sawed at a lapidary.’

Eyes swivelled to Ari once more. This time, even Master Malote looked nervous, flinching as Master Symonem dragged the word ‘sawed’ on a touch longer than necessary.

‘He is recommending that the more polished member of this Court goes to see Madame Lucretia, especially as we are raising the price of approving the mage-marking. Even though others are as valuable, it is more difficult for others to appreciate their value, so I should go.’

‘Master Claribel… Can you do it? It must be a difficult time for you…’

‘I am a member of this Court. I shall do my duty. My diaries are filled for the morrow, but I will visit at midday on the overmorrow.’

‘Diligent as ever,’ said Master Keating, smiling at her with a pride that was reminiscent of Mrs Hart who’d taught her all her weakest subjects, different enough from the cold smile he’d given her earlier for her to question if she’d imagined the ice in the former.

~He was my teacher at the Academy…~

‘In that case, I’d like to volunteer for the rest of the actions against this item on the agenda,’ he continued. ‘Master Claribel has plenty to do near the Midwinter Festival. Please allow me to notify La Petite Mort of the visit on the overmorrow, and also to arrange for a fire mage and an earth mage unacquainted with the Guild to visit with her. I have a vast network of Academy alumni, after all.’

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

‘Perfect!’ said Master Malote. ‘We’ll note down that by the next Court of Assistants, this item should be closed. Master Rodber, I’ll trust you to ensure that they pay the correct fees for our service. Failure to do so would make life extremely unpleasant for them, even with their motley golem-assisted guards. Next item!’

On went the list of new Masters to be admitted into the Guild and their payments for their Livery. Then followed a list of Masterpieces completed by Master-hopefuls, each bearing a mage’s plea of why their discovery should elevate them from common mage to Master mage. After went a list of widows and children supported by the Guild, poorly Guild members requiring temporary monetary assistance, and a vote on their donations to the Academy.

‘I’m glad we now have enough to create three full-board scholarships,’ said Master Rodber, ‘even though it is but a drop in the ocean during a time of such shortage for talented mages.’

Master Keating scoffed. ‘The shortage has really driven down the quality of the students they take in. Do you know what my former colleague said to me? They had a boy who forgot to apply heat protection before summoning flames onto his fingertips! As if the flames are for decoration only!’

‘No more digressions, remember?’ Master Malote hammered the table between mouthfuls of wind-mage pie.

‘I’m just saying… We used to get commoner mages like Hesperus, but look at us now.’

‘Yes. Let’s. Look at him now. Your protégé’s not even a Master.’

‘That’s because he’s… busy with other things. One day, he’ll finish his Masterpiece, and–’

‘You know what I’ve heard?’ said Master Rodber, leaning in. ‘I’ve heard he’s gone crazy. He was going around a while ago, claiming that spiritual possession was happening, but not from Khurammians. Instead, there were supposedly people from some other world dropping into ours.’

‘Oh yes,’ Master Malote joined in, ‘wasn’t he trying to make people believe that there might be a war between worlds? That the other world was sending spies and assassins into ours to manipulate us all?’

Ari’s breath caught in her throat. He knew. He knew.

But Master Rodber, who didn’t, gave a hearty laugh. ‘Never heard anything so ridiculous in my life! Shame, isn’t it? His fire magic might be strong, but a mage is nothing if he’s weak of mind. Invaders from another world! Master Keating, you of all people should know his place. He’s melted his mind listening to commoner drivel.’

~Don’t say anything!~

~You were going to defend Hes.~

She… knew that the thorns behind Master Rodber’s words were meant for Master Keating, but even so… even so… Hesperus was not a man weak of mind.

In fact, the opposite was true. He was a man who could stand by his convictions when the world chose to mock him. To Ari’s detriment.

‘Last on the agenda…’

‘Thank the Fated One,’ said a fire mage who had not spoken before, ‘or I’m going to hold Master Keating responsible for my hernia.’

‘Maybe you should lay off the sugared ginger then, Master Wardi,’ Master Keating fired back. ‘Lesson one of year one: being a mage is taking care of your body. Have you forgotten your basics already?’

‘No more digressions.’

Their words hardly registered, as Ari let the true implications of Hesperus’s beliefs sink in.

Spies and assassins.

Natty had never seen him before.

So he must have come across the only other Agent the Chief had sent into the novel. Agent Hannah Temple, a Blue, specialised in search and find.

===Quest: Reverse the Blue. Locate Agent Hannah Temple. [In Progress]===

Ari gripped onto her tankard to steady the shaking in Claribel’s hands; her old body would have never betrayed her weakness like this.

Hannah Temple: an Agent with a constant faint, calm smile who drove cars the way she’d drive a fighter jet.

He knew.

He’d found a way to make Agent Temple talk.

Master Keating cleared his throat. ‘Our sister Guild from the Guild of Southern Mages got in touch with a request for backup. They are having a challenging time with a charlatan who claims to be searching for some kind of a Chosen One. She says she’s destined to be his mentor because she’s triply blessed with magic.’

‘She’s claiming what?’

‘To be able to use wind, fire and earth magic to the highest of abilities.’

‘Yes, yes, I know that. I’m talking about the prophecy bit. A Chosen One for what? To change the world? She’s hardly our Master Claribel.’

Claribel squirmed under the other Masters’ admiring smiles.

‘Maybe to save the world?’ Ari offered from her past-world logic, just to shake off Claribel’s discomfort.

‘From what? The world doesn’t need saving. It needs to be better, yes, and I’m not happy about Tasrine expanding its empire quite so quickly, but we’re across the sea from them, so… er…’ Master Malote shot Ari an odd look. ‘…As I was saying, and as you were saying, Master Claribel, Ventinon has been through strife before, and still it stands, green and beautiful. We’ve never needed a Chosen One before, and we certainly don’t need one now.’

‘Unless another world comes invading!’ scoffed Master Rodber. ‘That’s what the Khurammians believe as well, isn’t it? Nice common ground Hesperus has found with them. Those guys believe in a Creator infinitely powerful, so you’d have to ask the question: would it be a sign of more power to create one world or two? Two or ten? Ten or a hundred? Before you know it, we’re left with an infinite number of parallel worlds.’

‘And you tell me to watch my tongue,’ said Master Keating. ‘You’re the one spouting Khurammian nonsense.’

‘Never mind saving us from otherworldly invasions,’ said Master Wardi, ‘can I choose him to fix my shed?’

‘Why don’t you choose Master Keating’s wife’s carpenter?’

‘More like she’s choosing someone to swindle him out of his hard-earned coin. Either that, or she’s completely mad.’

‘Did someone lock her in a room with Master Keating for too long?’

‘If you do that, the person who’d go mad is my wife,’ said Master Keating, ‘especially if this charlatan is a looker. Who was it who got the Southern Guild’s message?’

‘That’d be me,’ said Master Malote, ‘because I’m still the Guildmaster, Master Keating. Not you. And yes, Master Claribel, you can record that as part of the minutes for prosperity. On to more serious matters, consider the charlatan’s beauty confirmed. The only other piece of information the Southern Guild has provided us is that the charlatan is identifiable by her name, Carmenta, and her hair, which “glistens like a rainbow under the morning sun”.’

‘Wow. Someone’s besotted.’

‘Exactly. Who shall we send to investigate her? It’s a long journey. Who has time on their hands?’

‘All our members are busy people.’

‘How about Master Grayham?’ said Ari.

Master Malote raised a brow. ‘All those in favour? Well. I think we have another unanimous decision. Who’s going to tell Master Grayham the good news?’

An earth mage with two chins and puppy-like eyes grew increasingly redder, opening his mouth yet again during the lull in their discussion only to close it again.

~Master Samuel can be a little shy. He’s the newest Assistant to be assigned to the Court.~

‘Master Samuel,’ said Ari, offering a helping hand, ‘did you wish to volunteer, or did you wish to share your thoughts?’

‘Uhhh…’

‘Ah yes, Master Samuel, please feel free to speak. These old-timers can be rowdy, but please share your thoughts.’ Master Malote offered him an earth-mage jam tart.

‘Uh, I don’t mean to butt in,’ he said, accepting the tart, ‘but a gouge is just for carving. It doesn’t seem the appropriate tool to single out in this instance.’

‘What gouge now?’

‘Uh… When Master Rodber was talking about Master Keating’s wife, and he mentioned that she’s seeing a Master Carpenter.’

‘Oh…’

‘I… I know we’re not supposed to digress again, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the gouge. It… It’s not the right tool to describe the… uh… the appendage. For something small, I’d have gone with a gimlet. For what Master Rodber was talking about though, auger would have been the best.’

‘His father’s a carpenter,’ added an older-looking mage next to him, chewing open-mouthed on his own jam tart.

‘And his mother’s a pedant,’ said Master Keating.

‘Really, I can choose whatever implement I want in order to hammer my point home…’ said Master Rodber.

It took all of Ari’s resolve not to jam another jam tart into Master Samuel’s mouth. ‘Weren’t you also planning to tell Master Graham about the journey he’s about to undertake?’

‘Uh… Was I?’

‘I believe so,’ she said.

‘Uh…’

‘Thank you for volunteering,’ said Master Keating. ‘And that’s it! All of the items covered! Those who were complaining about the state of their hernia are more than welcome to leave.’

‘There’s something that’s not on the agenda,’ said Claribel with a quick internal apology. ‘It is coming up to the anniversary of Reece’s passing. I… I am not in the best position to visit his widow and children, but… but…’

‘One of us will.’ Master Malote placed his hand on top of hers.

Ari fought the urge to slam his fingers backwards, but Claribel took over once more.

‘I would like to continue my contributions to his family via the Guild’s treasury. His family will not accept it from mine.’

‘Rest assured,’ said Master Rodber, ‘that shall be done.’

The other Masters nodded, casting her pitying glances.

~I know what you think of me.~ Claribel looked away, her wispy form slipping through the wall so that Ari could only catch sight of a tendril of her hair, but still, her voice rang loud and clear in Ari’s head. ~You think I have lived a sheltered life. You think I am nothing like you, but I, too… I, too, have killed a man. And now? I reap the gold and renown that should have been his. That is the nature of my Masterpiece.~