Chapter 22 “The question was, for those who didn’t hear, ‘How many sorcerers and kinetics are there in the world?’ The answer is impossible to know, but we can guess at the approximate number. This year’s class has nine hundred and eighty-seven students. If we say that all previous classes combined live to an average age of seventy, then there’d be approximately fifty thousand Imperial Sorcerers’ Academy students and graduates at any one time. But that’s easy to know. “The hard part is: how many sorcerers are there who aren’t graduates? We know there should be hundreds of thousands, but only a hundred thousand are listed as rank one or above. Perhaps the others are dead, perhaps they’re lurking out there somewhere secretly doing their own little hobby. But really, the number that everyone cares about is the number of rank ones and above, which is about a hundred thousand. If you multiply by two, you’ll get the approximate number for both kinetics and sorcerers. “Given that the world population is approximately five hundred million, then our talent is one in five thousand.” —Professor Gio, war professor for the Imperial Sorcerers’ Academy A knock came at the door. “Come in.” A sailor walked in quickly and said, “They’re both awake.” “About time. It’s noon.” “Yes, sir.” “I’ll be down there in a few minutes,” the captain said. The sailor left. After a while, the captain got up from the map table, grabbed his staff, and drifted through the door. No reason to bow to the time demands of his prisoners, yet he was curious as to what they would say before he killed them. He made his way down to the brig. Inside Seff’s and Reyn’s jail cell, were two tall iron boxes. Sorcerer pens. Seff was inside one, and Reyn was in the other. Their feet were shackled to the floor, and their hands were shackled behind their backs. Water filled the iron pens up to their necks, drowning out any chance of a magic defense. Both pens were capped with a removable iron lid. “Remove the lids,” the captain said. The lids were removed. “So,” the captain paused for effect, “What were you doing on my ship?” “Where are we?” asked Seff. “You’re in my ship. I will be executing you shortly,” the captain said. “What is the matter with you sorcerers and talking to prisoners before you kill them?” Reyn said. “Seriously, I’ve already been through this once. I’m not going to go through it again. Just kill me already!” “What’s the matter with him?” asked the captain, stepping closer to Reyn’s cage. “He must really not like water.” The captain didn’t understand what sort of man or woman would beg to die at a moment like this. He wanted to know about them and why they had come into his cabin, and the thin tall one wanted to die. He shook his head in disapproval. “I saved him last time, and now I guess he’s gone crazy,” Seff said. “He was in one of those before?” the captain said. “No, he was going to get hanged last time.” The captain laughed, “You need to stop taking so many risks. What were they going to hang him for?” “Killing an entire courtroom of people, accidentally.” The captain was taken aback. “But he’s not the sorcerer. You are.” “He’s also a sorcerer. He killed everyone when they tested him.” “Really?” “Really.” “That’s unusual. I didn’t hear about that. Being off to sea has its drawbacks,” the captain mused, knowing what it meant and why the other boy had saved the loony one. And then, they’d be on the run. They’d need money. The captain put it together in a snap. He asked anyway, just to confirm, “So what were you doing on my ship?” Seff said, “Stealing valuables. We need the money. We’re being blackmailed.” The captain walked closer to Seff, “Good time to steal. Poor choice of cabins, however. Anything else before I kill you both?” he asked, knowing he would not do it. There had to be a good bounty for the two of them. More profit. He could seal them up again, feed them food like fish in a bowl, and think of what to do with them. They would be his pets for a bit. Seff said, “If you kill us, we’re definitely not going to steal the taxes for you.” “You couldn’t even plunder my ship, so I doubt you’d be able to rob any such fictional taxes for me.” “No, we have an insider in the City Exchequer. We’re targeting the tax money. All we have to do is show up, melt the safe, and walk away with the money.” “And kill the guards, or did your insider forget that part?” the captain laughed. “She didn’t mention the guards, but I’m sure I could take care of them.” “You couldn’t take care of me, so I find that hard to believe.” “I only brought along a wand. I think you had a slight advantage with your staff.” “True enough. You can melt a protected safe?” “No, but Reyn can.” “You’re talking about the boy in the other can? The one who did nothing to fight back? The one begging for death and who is now silently listening to us?” the captain said. “Yes. He hasn’t learned hardly any spells yet.” “And he turned a courtroom into an inferno, just by getting tested?” “Yes. He’ll be able to melt it with no problem at all.” “You’d stake your life on it?” “Of course.” The captain liked high stakes gambling—it was a cultural thing to Northern Phav. Further, he gambled every day as a captain sailing the northern islands as dangerous as they were known to be and more. He said, “So be it. Reyn who wishes for death will be released, and if he doesn’t come back with the money, then you’ll die in his place.” “And if he does come back?” “Then I get the money, and you both are released with the warning that if I ever see either one of you again, I’ll kill you.” “Do we get to keep our sack full of loot from your boat?” “No, of course not.” “Then we’ll need the money from the taxes, or at least half of it, to pay off a debt our insider owes.” “Half? I suppose that is fair, if it amounts to over five-hundred gold coins. If not, then I keep all of it. And if this supposed heist of yours isn’t over a hundred gold coins, then I’ll assume you’ve lied, and I’ll kill both of you when you return. Do you hear that, Reyn? If the taxes are not over a hundred gold coins, don’t even come back.” The captain looked at his guards, “Take Reyn out and dump him on the dock. Seal this other one up. I’m going back to my cabin to finish the map for that reef we scraped over last week. Oh, and Reyn,” the captain pounded on Reyn’s prison, “You have two days, or we kill Seff regardless. Two days. It’s noon right now, so you better get going.” The iron lid flipped over to seal Seff in as a man climbed into Reyn’s pen to release the shackles. The captain walked out and closed the door behind him. There were six guards in the room, three with crossbows. They led Reyn out, up through the ship to the top deck, to the gangplank and dumped him on the dock. “Get going, loser,” one of the guards said. “You have two days to save your friend. Don’t try to rescue him. The captain has killed before, and I’m sure he’d kill you, too. Just get the money. He’ll honor the deal.” Reyn got up slowly. He was filthy and soaked. His legs were jelly, and he couldn’t stop shivering. Hugging himself, he backed slowly away from the Cristina. Soon, he ran. * * * Whimby perked up. Finally something unusual. He knew there had to be something after that fire in the harbor. A boy was staggering towards him on the trail to town. He was stooped over and looked weak and cold. Where was the other boy, he wondered. That one—yes, that one is the boy who set fire to the courthouse, and his bounty is the larger of the two. But what about the other one? Surely the other boy—with three sets of footprints at Goff’s—is around somewhere. Reyn passed by Whimby’s hiding place. Whimby cursed silently at his odd luck to not have found both of them together. He’d have to follow this dolt of a boy until he led him to the other one. Then, he would kill them together.