The tent stood some fifty feet, its cloth billowing down to rest on other tops, then down again to the outer walls. A sea of people drained slowly into it. “I still don’t like this,” said Kevin.
Topher ignored him. “That tent seem bigger to you than the ones back home? I don’t remember them being that big. What do you think?”
Kevin said nothing. He stared out the window, eyes focused on nothing for a thousand yards.
“I mean, urban populations in fantasy settings are tiny, even compared to a sickly city like Toledo,” said Topher. “Do they really need all that space for the audience? Then again, real entertainment is probably hard to come by here, so I suppose a greater percentage of the population would be interested in attending.”
Kevin remained silent.
“Then again again, maybe it’s not the audience size that they need the space for, but the circus attractions themselves! There are fantasy monsters that dwarf elephants, um, no pun intended, and maybe the larger tent is to accommodate their showing. Of course, hauling something of that size can’t be easy, and I didn’t see any carts that could even manage an elephant. Do you suppose there’s a way to trick out a Bag of Holding to keep what’s inside it alive? Like maybe a stasis field or something?“
Kevin continued to stare out. “I don’t like this.”
“Will you stop saying that?” grumbled Topher.
“You know it’s bad. How can it not be bad?”
“Alright,” breathed Topher. “So the Consul, rumored to be dead, turns up fine and everyone says he’s looking younger. You think that he was dead, but has been brought back to life with a Clone spell.”
“Which is an eighth level spell,” reminded Kevin.
Topher nodded. “Which means the Consul likely has ties to a fifteenth level wizard, because wizards get eighth level spells when they reach level fifteen. You ever wonder why they refuse to call different tiers of power anything other than level? That stuff gets confusing.”
Kevin continued. “Which also means a wizard in the employ of the Consul has access to magic such as Disintegrate, Finger of Death, Reverse Gravity, Incendiary Cloud…”
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“Right. However,” Topher raised a finger, “those spells need to be cast then and there, and you’re right—if the Consul has someone waiting on him hand and foot who can do all that, then we probably are in big trouble, but Clone is different. It’s a fire and forget spell. You make the Clone and it stays until you need it. So, rather than assuming the Consul has that wizard on permanent retainer, he might only commission the odd Clone from him time after time.”
Kevin shook his head. “It’s still puts us too close to a world of power that we’re not prepared to interact with.”
“We’ve been interacting with it. What do you think this whole thing with the purply magic Ware has been about? There’s no backing out now.”
“Fine,” said Kevin. “But we’re supposed to be looking for signs of slavery or Jack, so unless he’s been stuffed into one of those Bags of Holding you mentioned, there’s no point in droning on about circus attractions.”
Topher shrugged, and Kevin went back to staring. The sun was setting, leaving its last light to set the sky ablaze.
“Actually…” said Topher.
“Right,” said Kevin. “Just as I was saying it, it made sense.”
“Maybe not a Bag of Holding…”
“But another extra dimensional space.”
“It’d be the perfect hideaway.”
“It would keep any normal searches from finding him.”
“And stop low-level divinations.”
“And is just the sort of thing a high-level wizard would do.”
“Or a secret slave caravan.”
The sun disappeared, and not long after, the sky went dark.
“What are you guys talking about?” asked Jenn, sitting in a corner of the room, reading by candlelight. Their exorbitantly priced suite at the brothel was lavishly furnished, mostly with oversized pillows. Jenn refused to touch any of the pillows. “Extra dimensional space?”
Topher perked up. “Ever watch Doctor Who? The Tardis? Bigger on the inside?”
Jenn shook her head, but set down the book—a loaner from Betty, after whom the establishment was named.
“Think Mary Poppins’ bag,” said Kevin. “Like how she pulled out a lamp.”
“…And the weirdness keeps getting weirder,” said Jenn, too softly to be heard.
“But we’re screwed if that’s the case,” said Kevin.
Topher frowned. “How so?”
“Besides the power an individual needs to do that sort of thing?” Kevin shook his head. “Well, if it’s an object, I imagine it’ll be hard to find, or someone important will be carrying it.”
“We’ll figure something out,” said Topher. “How awesome would it be to take on an evil Mary Poppins?”
“The other option is the creator of the extra dimensional space is the only one who can open it,” said Kevin.
“That might be a problem.” Topher’s lips tightened. “But then again, this is all hypothetical, isn’t it? Do you really think there’s any preparation we can do that’ll make a difference if your worst case scenarios are true?”
Kevin sighed. “Without access to a Plane Shift spell, a Deck of Many Things or the Tarrasque? Probably not.”
Topher clapped him on the back. “Then we proceed as planned. Did you see any likely places for slaves, assuming they’re here in the Prime Material?”
“Just one. It’s finally dark, so we should be able to sneak around the streets. Kryx and Linore are probably in the large tent by now, keeping an eye out. How do we want to do this?”