was there and that was the way the war ended. I got a medal for it-the whole company did for being the first men into Donknacht, beaten gold with a pikeman standing over a Dren eagle. I sold it for a top-shelf bottle of rye and a night with a Nestriann whore. I still think I got the better end of the deal.
When I finished relaying those parts of the story appropriate for public consumption, the Crane poured himself a glass of his noxious medicine and sipped from it slowly, shivering. I’d never seen the Crane frightened. It did not bode well for my immediate future. “You’re sure Adelweid’s monster was the same thing that killed the Kiren?”
“It left a vivid impression.”
“A creature from the outer emptiness, let loose on the streets of Low Town.” He threw the rest of the drink down his throat, then wiped at his lips with a bony arm. “By the Oathkeeper.”
“What can you tell me about it?”
“I’ve heard legends. It is said that Atrum Noctal, the false monk of Narcassi, could peer into the nothingness between the worlds, and that the things he saw there would answer when he called. Sixty years ago, my master, Roan the Grim, led the sorcerers of the realm against the Order of the Squared Circle, whose violations of the High Laws were so egregious that all records of their activities were destroyed. But as for direct experience”-he shrugged his narrow shoulders-“I have none. The study of the Art is a twisting path, and one with many branches. Before the creation of the Academy for the Furtherance of the Magical Arts, practitioners learned what their masters had to teach them and studied where their inclinations and talents led. Roan would have no truck with the dark, and though I left his service I have stayed true to his precepts.”
He smiled then, his first since I’d entered. By the Oathkeeper, he was going fast. “For me the Art was never a path to power, or a way to delve into the secrets hidden where nothing living dwells.” His hands began to shimmer with a soft blue light, the glow gradually forming into a scintillating ball that swooped around his arms. He had performed this trick often for me and Celia when we were children, sending the sphere dashing under tables and over chairs, always just out of our reach. “My gifts were for healing and for protection, to shelter the weak and provide respite for the weary. I never wished to be capable of anything else.”
Two sharp knocks rang out on the outer door and Celia entered. The illusions diminished, then disappeared. The Crane turned his eyes quickly toward her. “Celia, my dear-look who’s returned!” There was a strange note in his voice.
Celia crossed the floor, her pale green dress swaying slightly with her movements. I leaned in and she kissed my cheek, her hands trailing against my face. Coiled around her index finger was a silver ring with a fat sapphire, the symbol of her ascension to Sorcerer First Rank.
“What a pleasant surprise. The Master suspected that we wouldn’t see you again, that your last visit was a fluke. But I knew better.”
“Yes, you were right, my dear! Right completely!” His grin was taut across his aged features. “And now we are all together again, as we used to be.” He spread his hands, one resting lightly on each of us. “As we were meant to be.”
I was grateful when Celia broke away, allowing me to shrug off the Master’s grip. There was a slight arc to her mouth that looked like a smile. “Much as I would love to think this call is purely social, I can’t help but wonder about the hushed conversation the two of you were having before I entered the room.”
I shot a look toward the Crane, hoping to keep the content of our discussion secret, but he either missed my signal or ignored it. “Our friend wants to know more about the creature that attacked him. He says he saw one in the war. I think he has notions of becoming another Guy the Pure, hunting down the enemies of Sakra with a sword of holy flame!” His forced laughter sputtered into a choking cough.
Celia took the empty cup from his hands and refilled it from the green decanter before handing it back. “I would have thought you’d have had enough of playing hero. Few indeed survive an encounter with the void, and those who do are seldom anxious to repeat the experience.”
“I’ve survived a few things in my time. Firstborn willing, I’ll survive a few more.”
“Your bravery is inspiring. We’ll make sure to commission an epic poem when your body lies mangled in a coffin.”
“See if you can’t have it set to music. I’ve always felt I merited an ode.”
I thought that would at least get a chuckle, but Celia was having none of it and the Crane seemed not to be listening. “It might not be up to me,” I said. “Another girl has disappeared.”
This broke the Crane out of his repose, and his anemic eyes darted across my face before resting against Celia’s. “I hadn’t heard. I had thought that…” He stuttered his way into silence, then drank the remainder of his tumbler. Whatever was in that concoction, he’d be sleeping it off tomorrow.
Celia put one hand on the Master’s back and escorted him into a chair. He flinched at her touch but allowed himself to be led, sinking down into the leather and staring off into space. She bent and patted his head, her wooden necklace hanging over the low cut of her dress, tightening against her skin as she stood erect. “That is ill news, but I don’t understand what it has to do with you.”
“The Crown knows I was there for the last one. It’s only a matter of time before they come calling, and if I don’t have something to give them… it might go badly.”
“But you have no skill with the Art! They have to understand that. You used to be an agent! They’ll have to listen to you!”
“I didn’t retire from the Crown’s service with an honorable discharge-I was stripped of my rank. They’ll be happy to have something to pin on me just to wrap up a loose end.” What a strange conception the upper classes have of law enforcement. “These aren’t kind men.”
When next Celia spoke it was with a firm self-seriousness. “All right, then. If you’re in it, we’re in it. What’s the next step?”
“We?”
“Much as it suits your vanity to play the lone wolf, you aren’t in fact the only one concerned with what happens to Low Town. And difficult as it may be to believe, time has passed inside the Aerie as well as out of it.” She held her hand up to the light, drawing attention to her ring. “Given the nature of your investigation, perhaps it isn’t altogether illogical to rely on the assistance of a First Mage of the Realm.”
“Perhaps it isn’t,” I conceded.
She pursed her lips in thought. I tried not to notice their ripeness. “Wait here. I have something that can help you.”
I watched her leave, then turned to the Crane. “Your charge assumes her new responsibilities ably.”
He answered without looking up. “She’s not the girl she was.”
I was set to continue, but as I caught his face in the dying light, so frail that it seemed it might well fade into dust, I thought better of it and waited quietly until Celia returned.
“Take off your shirt,” she told me.
“I’m well aware of my overpowering allure, but I hardly think this is the time to succumb to it.” She rolled her eyes and made a hurrying gesture with her hand, and I tossed my coat on a nearby chair and pulled my tunic over my head. The room had a draft. I hoped Celia’s purpose wouldn’t be a waste of my time.
She reached into a pocket of her dress and drew forth a sapphire, perfect blue and about the size of my thumbnail. “I have ensorcelled this-if it feels warm, or if it causes you pain, it means you are in the presence of dark magic, either the practitioner himself or a close associate.” She pressed the stone against my breast, just below the shoulder. I felt a burning sensation, and when she withdrew her digit the jewel was fixed to my body.
I gave a quick yelp and rubbed the skin around the gem. “Why didn’t you warn me you were going to do that?”
“I thought you’d take it better as a surprise.”
“That was foolish,” I said.
“I’ve just given you a powerful gift, one that might well save your life, and you complain over the bee sting required to implant it?”
“You’re right. Thanks.” I felt like I ought to have said something more, but gratitude is an emotion I’m rarely called upon to display, and the reversal of our traditional positions left me unsteady. “Thanks,” I said again lamely.
“You don’t need to say that. You know I’d do anything for you.” Her eyes fluttered down my naked chest. “Anything.”
