risque.”
But Covington wasn’t offended. “A poem, eh?” he echoed with a bit of pride.
“You know, Pryce,” Fullmer continued, leaning forward, “I’ll tell you the truth. When I heard the name and then saw it was you, there was a moment when I thought it might be true. That you really were the great Darlington Blade.”
“Come on, Teddington. ”
“No, truly! Remembering all your skillsfrom the frivolous to the abstruseI thought it just might be the case. Remember, you were a wizards’ messenger. It wasn’t too long a leap to think you might also be learning something from them.”
‘Teddington, if you truly knew me at all, you’d know I don’t like magic. Gamor certainly knew.”
“But don’t you see, Pryce? That fits, too. You protested too mucha perfect cover.”
Covington shook his head in amazement. ‘Teddington, if you worked half as hard as a liquids trader as you do inventing intrigue, you wouldn’t have to be in constant search of a big deal.”
“Hmph,” Fullmer said, blowing air into his goatee. “And you should have stayed in Merrickarta, selling what was left of your eroding wit, instead of having the unmitigated gall to impersonate the most famous adventurer in the Shining South.”
“You know, Teddington,” Pryce sighed, “I think you’re right.”
“Still,” the trader said casually, leaning back and looking at his manicured fingernails, “your pathetic little performance could have its purpose… ”
Pryce looked up at him like an animal that just realized it had stepped into a trap. The two men sat in that split second between the time the spring was sprung and the iron jaws snapped shut.
“Oh?”
“Well, you know and I know… and that halfling fellow seems to know… that you’re not who you say you are… ”
“Who everyone else says I am,” Pryce corrected.
Fullmer waved away the niggling point aside. “But that selfsame ‘everyone else’ doesn’t know. They think you are Darlington Blade.”
“So?”
“So let’s take advantage of that, Pryce. I know what you want, and you know what I want, so let’s collaborate to achieve our dreams together.”
“How?” Pryce wondered truthfully.
Fullmer put his elbows on his knees and spoke with intensity. “I’ve been waiting all my life for an opportunity like this. A primary mage’s workshop, ripe for the taking? He’s missing; you’re his student. It’s rightfully yours!”
“But as Zalathorm is my witness, Teddington, I really don’t know where it is.”
“I know that, Covington! If you did, you wouldn’t be waiting around for the inquisitrixes to disintegrate you.”
“So what do I do?” Pryce exclaimed helplessly. “Go to the next council meeting and say, ‘Hey, it’s my workshop, so if anyone will simply tell me where it is, I’ll wrap it up and be on my way’?”
The trader just smiled. “In a manner of speaking, yes.”
‘Yes?” Pryce echoed incredulously.
“Yes. I know, and you probably know, that a variety of people are scrambling to be in line for the primary mage’s post if Geerling Ambersong doesn’t return by the Fall Festival. He had already announced his retirement in any case. Now, everyone knows Darlington Blade is his student, so all you have to do is declare a right of possession.”
“A right of possession!” Pryce exclaimed. “Oh, is that all?”
Fullmer reacted as if all he were asking Pryce to do was tell him the time of day. “Certainly. You loved your master, but you cannot, in good conscience, take his place. You are not worthy. So you beneficently leave the post open for the many other fine candidates. All you ask is that the council declare you the rightful owner of his workshop. And in the process of doing that, the location cannot help but be revealed.”
Pryce looked at his former employer as if he had painted his face green. “What if they do a little scanning of me, in addition to the workshop’s inventory?” He had already faced that particular problem once, and he didn’t know if the Ambersong clasp would be strong enough to withstand a council member’s magic.
“On Darlington Blade?” Fullmer reminded him. “They wouldn’t dare!”
Pryce scoffed but let it go for the moment. “All right, then, what if Geerling Ambersong comes back? What if I’m in the middle of this declaration, and he appears in the crowd and does a Gheevy Wotfirrnamely, proclaiming to anyone within earshot that I am not Darlington Blade? What then?”
Teddington Fullmer simply leaned back. His smile widened and his eyes narrowed until they were both thin slits. “Now, don’t you worry about that, my friend. I have it on very good authority that it is extremely unlikely that Geerling Ambersong will ever come back.”
The words hung in the grotto like Gamor Turkal at the Mark of the Question.
Covington considered several different ways to react. His first inclination was to ask for clarification. Phrases like “I beg your pardon” and “Would you mind elaborating on that theme?” came to mind. But he felt certain that they would only cause Fullmer to get coy. He was already cunning. Cunning and coy would be too much for Pryce to bear.
Instead, Covington decided to play along. He put both hands on his knees and widened his stance. He raised his head and looked Teddington directly in the eye. “And,” Covington said, “I suppose you expect me to believe that.”
‘What? Why, yes, of course!”
“You wouldn’t just be saying that so I’ll risk my neckno, my entire skeletal structure! to secure a mage’s workshop without a single iota of risk for you.”
“Come, come, my boy…”
“No, you come, come, my man,” Pryce chided. “Where’s my part of the deal?”
“Half the riches from the sale of a primary mage’s workshop!”
“And one hundred percent of the risk!”
Fullmer’s expression seemed to say he agreed, but then the trader leaned back and folded his arms. “Now, now,” he said evenly. “It’s not as if you have any say in the matter.”
Pryce didn’t let that obvious statement faze him. Instead, he smiled. “I just wanted to see how long I could hold off that particular observation.”
“You are a clever boy,” Fullmer acknowledged, “but allow me to finish my thought so we are both completely clear on the subject.” He leaned forward again, this time pointing directly between Pryce’s eyes. “If you do not help me find, and secure, Geerling Ambersong’s workshop, I will tell the inquisitrixes, the city guards, the military, and the Council of Elders that you, my friend, are no Darlington Blade.”
Pryce pretended to be completely unaffected by the threat. He pointed his own forefinger back at the trader. “And then I will tell the selfsame authorities that you are a blackmailing traitor who tried to use my accidental impersonation to sell magical items and spellbooks vital to the defense of the city and the nation.”
Covington dropped his finger and leaned back, his hands behind his head. “Then they would, no doubt, divine our intentions, and who do you think would walk away intact?”
Fullmer kept his finger up, but he blanched. Even his mustache seemed to droop. ‘You wouldn’t!”
“I might,” said Pryce, sitting up, “but I’m just trying to make the point that these threats aren’t necessary. All I want is your assurance that Geerling Ambersong will not interrupt my performance.”
Fullmer beamed and slapped his thigh in relief. “Now, there’s the Pryce Covington I remember and love!”
“Of course,” Pryce said casually. “Cushy job for life, remember? Away from the pain and strife?”
“Yes, yes, very good. Now, my friend, my associate, my partner, what can I do to assure you?”
“You said you had it ‘on very good authority that it is extremely unlikely,’ etcetera, etcetera, and so forth.”
Fullmer laughed. ‘Tour memory is incredible,” he marveled. “Even better than Gamor Turkal’s.”
“Yes, yes, flattery will get you nowhere. Now,” Pryce said portentously, “what I want to know is from
