“Another fucking clue?”

They had returned to the Mint just as Cosimo was being served dinner. It was Qirini fare — honeyed scorpions (the tails excised) garnished with candied ginger, alongside a bowl of spiced slugs. The scent was overpowering, something like paprika and cumin; it made Leo’s eyes water. The new cryptogram had already been transcribed on a piece of paper (by Danieli presumably). Cosimo was staring down at it with visible disgust, his oily fingers poised over it.

“Another one,” Leo said. He claimed the seat opposite Cosimo, settling into the high-backed, throne-like Parthian chair. “Two clues make a trail. There will be more, I wager. This clue will lead to another, and then who knows how many more after that?”

“I wager you’re right,” said Cosimo. “I just pray this doesn’t turn into a wild goose chase… I’ll need your help of course to pursue this. And we must make haste. You saw the dust marks — someone else beat us to the clue.”

“Wild goose chase was not part of our contract, Cosimo. Actually… I don’t know, maybe it was. I haven’t even read it.”

“Leo can’t read,” said Gianna.

“Literacy is an encumbrance,” Leo said loftily, smirking. “I erred the day I permitted Tomasso to enroll me in grammar school. What does the contract say, Nico?”

“It stipulates that if Ilhen’s Seventh is located inside the Azkaya Library, we help Cosimo solve it. But the Seventh was not inside the Library.”

“Right. Nothing about wild goose chases or trails of clues. We’ll need to renegotiate.”

Cosimo reached into his pockets and dug out a coin purse. He tossed it to Leo. “Consider it renegotiated. Satisfied?”

Leo’s fingers worked open the delicate drawstrings of the leather coin purse. There were no copper shims inside it, only silver shillings and gold talents. Multiple talents. They gleamed like a pot of Vedic treasure gold. “I… err, yes. Quite satisfied.”

“Nico, I don’t suppose you have any idea what this means?” Cosimo waved a greasy hand at the cryptogram.

“Regrettably, no.” Nico refrained from telling Cosimo that his head was still foggy from the Mindlock enchantment Danieli had placed on him. He could still feel the weight of her burgeoning presence within him, still feel a queer sensation behind his eyes. Even in the dark recesses of his own mind he lacked privacy.

“Well, perhaps Golgas can make heads or tails of it. He is still under my retainer. I’ll have the helmsman set a course for Skyborn.”

“Skyborn?” said Gianna. “But — it’s in the sky… ?”

“There are portals to it all over the Discovered World. There's one in the Myriad Isles on Polis island. Have you ever been?”

“To Polis?” Gianna asked.

“To Skyborn,” Cosimo said. “One of the Three Great Mage Academies — and in my view, the very greatest.”

“Never been,” said Leo. “I hear it’s quite chilly.”

“Frigid. I don’t suppose you southerlings packed any furs. Fortunately Max has more clothes than an Edmiri whore. I’ll have him furnish something suitable for both you and Nico. Danieli can provide something for Gianna. We should arrive by dusk.”

***

It was evening when they reached Polis island; the sky above was a bruised purple. Heavy white clouds drew a curtain on the crescent crimson moon.

Polis was a mostly untamed and uninhabited island. There was no port, and rocky shoals precluded a near approach, so they dropped anchor at sea and the four of them — Leo, Nico, Gianna, and Cosimo — tendered to shore in a small dingy. Maximilian, who resented his exclusion, stood at the taffrail, scowling down at them as Leo and Nico beat the oars with practiced ease, cutting a smooth and silent wake on the still sea.

Cosimo guided them to a hidden cove tucked into the coastline, where they found a makeshift harbor. Rotten mooring pegs were drilled into the earth, and a multitude of small vessels like cockleshells and dingies were fastened to them. Leo and Cosimo guided to one of the open pegs and secured their craft. Then they set off into the wet forest, sweating profusely under their heavy ermine furs, gnats and mosquitoes feasting on their exposed flesh.

A mile on, they came to a small glade sheltered under the thick canopy. A shaft of indigo moonlight spotlighted a portal at its center. It was a tall gate framed in marbled blue-white alabaster. The portal itself was tinted a bright crimson. Typically portals were blue, not red.

“Is this a portal?” Nico said. “I’ve never seen one like it.”

“A coded portal,” said Cosimo. “It works like any other one, but you must say the secret password.”

“What happens if you don’t?” Gianna asked, eyeing it skeptically.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“You’ll be stuck forever in a void. It’s sheer agony, they say, though how anyone knows I cannot fathom.”

“So what’s the password?” Leo asked.

“Well, I’ve never used this gate before. It’s ‘wizard hat,’ I think.”

“You think?”

“I’m pretty sure. 90%. 85%, at very least.”

“How very reassuring…”

“Well, in you go,” said Cosimo, giving Leo a sharp jab in the back, urging him forward.

Nico did not know if he was joking. With trepidation he followed Leo, stepping into the portal, feeling a slight magnetic energy, an incandescent warmth that seared his attention. Mustering himself, he shouted the secret passphrase as articulately as he could: “Wizard hat!”

The shift in altitude and temperature was abrupt — like a punch in the gut. Icy cold air stole his breath.

He coughed, lungs acclimating to the new environment. Someone nearby laughed at them.

“Freshmen,” a man said, scoffing. “The first jump always takes their breath away.”

Nico glanced around at their surroundings. They were in the University Square at the very center of campus. It was indeed frigid; a light flurry of snow accompanied a brisk wind. Now suddenly the furs felt somewhat inadequate.

Nearby, arranged in a neat row, were the Four Bernini’s — four famous statues by the mage-sculptor Bernini di Verona. Bernini had used lithomancy and other sorcerous techniques to shape stone and marble in novel ways, earning him the scorn of other artists, who generally eschewed all forms of sorcery.

Nico’s curiosity was drawn by one fountain in particular — the Globe, it was called. A pair of upperclassmen — the people who had laughed at them, sat on a bench before it. Ignoring their skeptical gaze, Nico approached the Globe, slowly circumnavigating it, admiring its immaculate attention to detail.

It was a large sapphire orb, carved with fissures, mountain ranges, forests, bogs. Water — real water — filled its oceans and rivers, and cascaded from waterfalls. It was tilted on its axis, the way many Sages believed the world was, and at the southern pole was a thick neck of ice, supporting the orb. It represented the Ice Court, where Azrael held sway over his sons and daughters, the gods of magic.

“The rubies mark attunement temples,” said Cosimo, joining Nico at his side.

“What about the opals?” asked Gianna. “There’s an opal here in the Myriad.”

“Opals mark the location of alleged secret attunement temples. It is widely believed that an attunement temple exists somewhere in the Myriad, but no one knows precisely where or what it is.”

“Well, the Empress might know,” said Leo. “Duke Ferdinand might. Why keep it a secret? Wouldn’t they want more applicants?”

“For national security purposes, obviously. Treaties between the great nations require they disclose their attunement temples to one another, but hiding a secret attunement temple provides a unique advantage. Now come, I hope to catch Golgas before he retires to bed — for a brilliant man, he is curiously lazy.”

Cosimo led them across campus.

Skyborn was somehow even more splendid and magical than it seemed in paintings. Its granite bedrock was carved with canals, dividing the various Colleges of the University into small islands. The canals were sluiced with misty white vapor. Sleek lavender gondolas surfed on it, ferrying students to and fro classes, sloshing mist over the banks.

Each College had its own unique architectural style, often buttressed by a healthy dose of magic. Nico noted that the Illusion College was completely invisible, except for an ornate scarlet door with a bright golden doorknob.

The College of Cryptomancy meanwhile was a grim monument: a four story brutalist cube, squat and windowless, resembling a gaol rather than a place of higher learning. A monument was on its front lawn: a spinning coin, the symbol on its face changing with each revolution.

Cosimo conveyed them inside and upstairs. He barged into Golgas’ office without deigning to knock. Golgas was seated at his desk. He was younger than Nico imagined him. Early 40s or so, with a bald head, a thick curly beard, and half-moon spectacles. Another man stood beside him — a stocky fellow in heavy silk robes. He was bent over Golgas’ desk, showing him a map or schematic.

Golgas glanced up at them through his half-moon spectacles, clearly annoyed.

“Oh, not you again.”

“Me,” said Cosimo. “Again. I’m delighted to see you too, Golgas.”

“I am busy,” Golgas replied, elongating the last syllable. “In case you hadn’t noticed.”

“I had,” Cosimo said. To the other man he said, “Who are you?”

“Perse. A Scout for the University. I travel the world seeking adventuring opportunities for Skyborn students and faculty.”

“Nice. I donate ten gold talents to Skyborn each year and probably pay your salary, so you can kindly fuck off.”

The other man seemed more bemused than offended. He bowed slightly and exited the room.

When Perses had left, Golgas said, “I suppose you want me to solve another code.”

“You didn’t solve the last one, Golgas. In fact, your carelessness quite nearly led me astray. Nearly led me on a wild goose chase. You overlooked a red herring.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?” He pulled out a copy of the original cryptogram, the one Cosimo had shown to Leo and Nico in his manse. “Red herring?”

“Explain, Nico.”

Nico briefly explained how he had solved the cryptogram, and how red herrings had tricked Golgas’ algorithms.

Golgas simply stared in disbelief, saying nothing. Finally he nodded, looking quite sheepish. “Very well.”

“It led to a second clue — another code. This one stumped Nico. I hoped you might have better luck with it. I hope my ingenious cryptomancer is not entirely useless.”

Golgas sighed. “I — a new term just started. I have papers to grade, research to complete…”

“Research this.” Cosimo slid the new code across his desk, tapping on it. “I have you on retainer, you recall. The amount of money I donate to this institution each year, the whole fucking school — faculty and students — ought to bend to my will if I snap my fingers.”

Golgas sighed, resigned. “So be it. I’ll work on this tonight. The Kurzgesagt algorithm might be able crack it. It will take time though.”

“Can I watch?” asked Gianna.

“Who are you?”

“My apprentice,” Leo said, “and possibly your future student. Gianna is an aficionado of magic.”

Golgas shrugged. “Cryptomancy is tedious work, but if you insist…”

And so Golgas led them down to the Cryptomancy laboratory in the building's cellar, where a strange scene awaited them...