Chapter 1

The rain clattered down against the scant row of trees that had been planted along the city walkway. Linos stood resting against the base of a tree, covered in a heavy gray cloak darkened by the stain of rainwater. His hand scratched idly at the damp bark behind him with a slender whittling knife while he stared up across the street at the massive stone building looming behind the black iron fence. The large columns supporting a heavy concrete roof stood stoically shrouded by the haze of the storm. He squinted against the night and the rain, at the small shadow of a groundskeeper, illuminated in the pale orange light of a lantern as he feverishly dug at the ground flinging clumps of soil into the air haphazardly. Linos could only just make out the small trench the man had dug across the front lawn of the museum grounds leading away from a deep pool of water that was flooding the property from the street. At first he had watched slightly amused as the old groundskeeper futilely tried to stop the flooding from reaching the building, but as time passed the sly smile dropped from his face as he quickly grew bored of the spectacle. The old man just wouldn't quit it and an hour standing out in the rain waiting for the geezer to give up Linos found himself questioning whether or not he should call it for the night and try again on a later day, he has already been considering it as he hadn't expected it to rain this hard in the first place. He found himself daydreaming about the warm hearth roaring in his study back home, his mouth watered thinking about the fresh bread and ham he had smelled coming from Omir’s kitchen on his way out earlier that day.

No, he shook himself from the fantasy and stepped away from the tree. He had put off this task for weeks waiting for it to rain in London and he couldn’t afford to procrastinate and be delayed until the next storm. He could get past one old groundskeeper. He turned around to inspect his handiwork, admiring the three command runes that sat in a vertical pattern down the side of the tree. Leaning forward he made a few adjustments to the pattern before raising his hand and began pouring magic into the carving barely wincing as sharp cold pain shot down from the mark on his shoulder. The pale lavender glow of the runes coming alight illuminated his smile as he turned to see the other three warded locations that were visible from where he stood begin to glow. He released the spell and immediately pinched himself hard as a wave of drowsiness washed over him, passing quickly as he forced himself to focus. The groundskeeper was unaffected, totally absorbed in his task immune to the suggestion of the magic. This was an expected result.

Running quick and low, Linos left the shelter of the treeline making his way along the side of the fence and rounding the corner in the dark to where it connected to the side of the massive concrete building; bolted into thick iron panels set into the mortar. He took in a sharp breath of air and infused power into his legs leaping up in an effortless arc clearing the spikes that rested atop the six foot fence. Breaking into motion as soon as he rolled to his feet he crept along the museum walls until he was able to duck behind one of the thick columns that framed its entrance. Catching his breath and peaking out from behind the granite pillar he saw the groundskeeper still hard at work unaware of his entrance onto the grounds. Shielded from the downpour underneath the lip of the roof and hidden by the columns that stood sentry in front of the building, Linos slipped against the wall of the building pulling off his drenched wool cloak as he walked revealing a form fitting black sweater and long loose gray slacks that by some power had stayed dry. Approaching the front door to the building he pulled a slip of paper from his pocket marked with a hastily scratched rune he had prepared earlier marked with the command to open. Pressing the paper into the palm of his hand he grabbed the handle of the door and poured magic into the spell, then turned the handle and stepped forward as the lock clicked open, slipping into the building through a crack as the door creaked inward.

The entrance hall was illuminated by a collection of candles that sat in sconces around the room. On a wooden bench were two watchmen in simple brown uniforms sitting sleeping in the dim light. Crossing the room Linos paused in front of them grinning as he studied the slackened faces. The rain had done its job well, the dreary energy brought on by the storm had made his spell much more effective and it would be easy to maintain during his search despite the distance. He left the entrance hall creeping quietly down the polished stone floors heading along the route he had memorized earlier. Thinking back to the musty air of the library basement where he had pooled over maps of the building he was now thankful for the wide airy halls of the museum. He stuck his arms out while he walked, feeling the cool draft flow past him. Turning the corner he stepped into a room full of weapons and armor sitting in display cases, relics of the dark ages reflecting warmly against the candlelight that illuminated the room. Carefully stepping through the room he examined a rack containing a collection of arming swords and halberds, decorated with fine silver filigree and inlaid with gemstones. Most of the displays in this room appeared to be decorative. Suddenly a larger brighter light began to make its way down the other side of the chamber and Linos found himself now cursing the wide open halls as he desperately searched for a place to hide. In a panic he scrambled backward stepping into a gap between sets of armor posed at attention on the far wall just as a watchwoman in a similar uniform as before came into view holding a lantern in loose fingers. She walked into the room in a slow shuffle with a vacant look on her face. Linos held his breath and stared at the woman as she rubbed her drooping eyes and slowly, painstakingly made her way through the room. Idiot! Stupid! Blending in with the racks of armor? He thought to himself, surely the woman would see him any moment. She stopped in the center of the room and he grew rigid bracing for her to raise the alarm. And then suddenly she sneezed, shaking her whole body vigorously for a moment. Then she rubbed her dreary eyes again and continued on her way past him and out of the room. Linos started after her in amazement, stepping away from his “hiding spot” and turning to look at it almost in disbelief at the almost comical way he had avoided detection.

“You need to learn to start trusting your spellcraft,” he quoted to himself under his breath in a mocking tone, recalling the words his father spoke time and time again “Every time you learn a new spell you seem a damn Red Blood with that stupid look on your face.”

He shook the memory from his mind and turned back the way the watchwoman had come from; continuing on his trek. He doubted his father would much approve of his current tactics but desperate times and so on... Turning through another hallway he stopped at a wooden placard placed against the wall that labeled the room beyond as EGYPTIAN BURIAL DIORAMA in gold leaf lettering, the room beyond was about fifteen feet across and seemed to display the curators best approximation of how a burial chamber of an egyptian tomb might look.

The centerpiece of the room was a collection of three mummified corpses resting on a stone slab with collections of jars and statues resting arranged in groups sitting around the slab behind glass display cases with various title cards glued to the glass. Sections of stones containing hieroglyphics and shards of once spectacular murals set inlaid into the walls of the museum itself. Linos picked his way through the stolen trove, stopping as he almost passed by a display filled with trinkets and jewelry. His eyes alighted greedly on a brooch in the shape of a brass coin with a turquoise beetle on the back reminded him of a scarab and a pile of silver coins embossed with strange symbols. Holding out a hand over the case and pressing his palm against it and scraping the bottom of a silver ring that sat around his thumb in a circle on the glasses surface. The ring sparked with red embers as he infused it with magic cutting a rough hole several inches across into the thick glass. His hand reached in with a practiced motion and causally swiped the broach and coins from their cushion sliding it into his pocket. He continued onward toward the back wall of the exhibit where a display case sat on a large sandstone pedestal, resting on a round red cushion inside the case sat a polished gold bracelet that took the shape of a snake. The bracelet was more like a bracer as the looping gold metal would wrap around the wearer's arm multiple times before culminating in a wide viper-like head, expertly crafted rubies set into the eyes with long fangs protruding from an open mouth. He approached the real objective of his mission, quickly leaning forward and slipping a thin and wiry pair of spectacles onto his face. Runes along the side of their frame flaring to life in a bright white radiance the dull pain from his shoulder was easily ignored as he manifested the enchantment. Through the lenses he could see the numbers and symbols floating in the air, indicating the latent energy and distortion present in the objects observed through the spectacles. He began inspecting the case for magical wards or traps. Strangely the figures seemed to indicate the case was perfectly mundane just as the one he had pilfered from just moments ago, and even more worrisome the Curse Binder itself displayed similar data. He tapped the ring against the glass barely infused with energy, the sparks causing a spider web of cracks to creep across the spot where he made contact. He froze waiting for some terrible trap to go off, a rune to detonate, something… He opened his eyes looking down at the case almost disappointed, his eyes trailed down to the display placard. Healer’s Implement. Not surprising museums usually weren’t able to determine the true name or function of objects like this, or maybe that was intentional. He continued reading quickly, skimming the text. An object worn by priests and mages sometime in… and was believed to once hold magic properties… the curing of diseases or poisons… on display here is a replica of an artifact recovered in the… REPLICA?! He gripped the glass tighter causing more cracks to spread across the glass box. He kneeled down to inspect the text closer. Impossible! When he had been here just a week prior the object had been real he was sure of it, the glasses had indicated an immense latent energy stored within. A heavy pit began to form in his stomach and he scratched the ring hard against the surface shattering the tox of the display before balling his hands into tight fists. Where the hell had the original gone in just one week?

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Linos let out a long exasperated sigh as he stood in the entrance way to the filling room, thick eyebrows furrowed in frustration at weeks of planning wasted. From the entranceway of the room he could see a wide skirted wooden desk next to the nearwall where a clerk sat sleeping, an older woman with braided gray hair in a pale white dress shirt and black ankle length skirt lay drooling onto a thick logbook resting on the desk in front of her. The sleeping spell was starting to wear on him affecting such a wide area for this long but he would be able to manage it for an hour or so longer. Rows of file cabinets lined the edges of the small room made of a dark brown wood giving the entire room a pleasant earthy smell like a library. He stalked into the room, looking briefly at the logbook hiding beneath the woman’s head but promptly decided it would not be worth the risk. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a small notebook, tearing out a piece of paper as he crossed the chamber to the desk grabbing instead a fat pencil off the wooden surface. He marked the paper with runes for clairvoyance and illumination to create a basic seeking spell. Drawing magic into the card he shuddered still not fully used to the pain he now associated with spellcraft. The frigid, sharp pain, like he was being stabbed just at the base of his neck with a thick icicle. As the spell was released he focused his intent on the serpentine bracelet that now sat on his arm pressing the sheet of paper to the snake's head and hoping a replica would be good enough to do the job. Light began to glow faintly from the lips of two cabinets further down in the room and Linos sighed in relief at the sight. Crossing over to the first one he pulled open the drawer to find rows of dust covered files resting in the basin of the drawer. He gingerly pulled out the file that was faintly glowing a pale yellow hue with large shimmering spots that undulated in size and shape. Holding the file in one hand he walked over to the other cabinet and drew out a similar file but much thinner, containing only a few pages.

After claiming the relevant documents Linos let the spell drop returning the room to the dim light of the candle and strolled out, file folders clutched under one arm. Continuing down the hallway walking briskly he was surprised to find himself feeling winded, his supply of magical energy running lower than he’d like. The seeking spell had taken more out of him than he had expected. At this rate he soon wouldn’t have enough power left to make the trip home, that in mind there was little choice but to drop the sleeping spell as soon as possible. He continued down the hallway until he found a closet of some sort that was being used to store a collection of rope and standing poles likely intended to cordon off sections of the museum to visitors. Once inside he pulled out a small bronze lighter flicking open the small flame and setting it on the ground beside him. He pulled up his left sleeve revealing a bandage that wound down his forearm, a small stain of deep blue blood having managed to leak through. Peeling the bandage back he observed the binding rune carved shallowly into his skin as blood began to creep back out of the wound. Extending the knuckle on his other hand he raised another silver ring with a sharp hook coming out of the top like talon and made another cut through the mark ruining the rune carved there, sighing in relief as the magic ceased draining from his body to power the wards.

Leaning against the wall he slowly slid down to the floor, his knees scrunched to his chest in the cramped closet. Even if the staff began to wake up they would not likely find him here. He pulled the files onto his lap staring at the replica bracer still wrapped around his arm, the symbol of the night's failure. Sighing in frustration he cracked open the first folder he recovered, straining his eyes in the dim flickering light produced by the lighter. Quickly there was little use found for the documents as they appeared to be museum scholars' best attempts at piecing together historical lore about the artifact. Information on where the gold was likely mined from, the type of artisan and technology that must have existed to cut the rubies so finely, boring things that Linos didn’t bother to fully read through. Much of the information seemed to be largely conjecture as far as he was concerned. Turning to the second collection of documents they appeared to be a set of two legal contracts describing a temporary but potential indefinite donation of the Implement to the museum by an organization that had been responsible for the excavation of the object in the first place. The specific owner was listed as the Pacific Antiquities Conglomerate Transcontinental and as he read the second contract he groaned in frustration as it dictated a request for the return of the object in exchange for a replica to be used in its place. He scanned the documents for more information on the company but details of its offices, correspondents, or even the location the relic was to be delivered to were missing from the file. A sense of anxiety began to well from deep within him as a familiar feeling began to surface.The more and more he read over the paperwork the more familiar this seemed to him. He flipped back to the beginning of the contract, again inspecting the group's name. P. A. C. T; The moniker registered immediately now that he was seeing it for the second time. Gus had tried to ease his worries before setting out on the mission, but the informant they had contacted to give them this location in the first place had been the servant of a Pact mage. His anxiety dissipated surprisingly quickly after his initial fears had been confirmed, the reality of the situation dawning with quick decisive clarity. When left with no other choice it was easy to do what needed to be done. Rising to his feet he let out a groan stretching the sleep from his legs and leaving the files on the floor behind him. He opened to the back page of his notebook where a complicated line of five runes sat waiting in carefully marked black ink. Below them rest a set of coordinates inked in blocky red numbers that sat at the bottom of the page in clear uniform text as though struck by a typewriter. “I can’t believe it’s come to this,” he complained as he picked up his lighter, flicking it closed and shrouding the audience of copper poles clustered around him back into darkness. He braced with his feet set wide and his center of gravity set low; activating the rune fast forcing the large supply of magic required to power the spell into the markings in an instant. With a blinding flash Linos vanished, sparks splashing to the ground from where he stood singeing the papers he left scattered across the floor, the closet falling empty and quiet.