'Gentlemen, perhaps we should be moving on now,' Shael said, re-assuming his official role, 'if we are to take in as much of the Lodge as possible in the short time available.'
The three mages left Threll's gloomy little warehouse, with considerable relief on Grimm's part, and the Questor noticed that the hapless man had resumed formal Mage Speech. At least he seemed happier now.
'I suggest our next stop should be your Accommodation Block,' the Assistant Sub-Vice-Facilitator-in-Chief suggested. 'Do you have bags with you?'
'We left them in the waiting room where you first met us,' Dalquist replied.
'In that case, I will give instructions for them to be taken to your rooms,' Shael said. He took a small gem from a pocket and muttered into it for a few moments. 'It is all taken care of: you will be residing in Rooms 1449 and 1450, Accommodation Block 15, while you are with us.'
Dalquist laid an avuncular hand on Shael's shoulder.
'Facilitator Shael, we Questors are independent types,' he said, with an ingratiating smile. 'Perhaps you might appreciate a little time to yourself, while we plan our own itinerary. After your hard work on our behalf, this seems only fair.'
The Facilitator looked uncertain. 'That is a generous offer, Questor Dalquist. I have been working very hard for some time. Nonetheless, you will be unable to find your way around here without a constant guide, and I must take my responsibilities seriously. Each of your rooms bears an ivory cartouche; you only need but touch it, and I will be with you within minutes.'
Dalquist's spoke in a sweet, almost seductive voice: 'Your estimable Senior Doorkeeper mentioned that all the members of staff within High Lodge possess charms to guide you around this magnificent establishment. I feel sure a clever, resourceful fellow like you could lay his hands on a brace of these gems in a moment.'
Despite the fact that he must be almost old enough to be Dalquist's grandfather, Shael seemed cowed by the tall Questor. 'It is most irregular, Questor Dalquist,' he said, with a nervous shake of his head.
'But not forbidden, Facilitator Shael? We feel so guilty at the idea of poaching upon your precious, hard-earned free time. An important mage such as your good self must be in demand all the time. I can tell how onerous your vocation must be; you look so pale and tired, Brother Mage. A short vacation would surely be just the thing to revitalise your zeal and efficiency.'
The pathetic functionary hesitated, twitching his head while his eyes scanned the ceiling, but then he seemed to reach a firm decision. Fishing in his numerous pockets, which seemed to contain an unending supply of paper, keys, fluff and other detritus, he at last produced a handful of small charms, two of which he pressed upon Dalquist and Grimm.
'No, it is not forbidden, Questor Dalquist,' he responded. 'However, should the Senior Doorkeeper, or any other Lodge functionary, ask you of my whereabouts, I would request that you reply to the effect that I am answering a call of nature, or some such innocuous statement. I must, at all costs, maintain the appearance of preserving the formalities at all times.'
'We would not dream of compromising your well-earned leisure,' Dalquist assured him. 'If you would just be so kind as to explain the working of these baubles, we will be on our way.'
The operation of the gems seemed to be simplicity itself. The holder merely needed to speak the name of the location that he sought, such as 'Accommodation Block 15', and a magical green luminescence would appear along the shortest path he needed to take to reach his destination.
'Thank you, Facilitator Shael, your guidance has been much appreciated,' the senior Questor said. 'We will be sure to speak well of you, should anybody inquire of you.'
Shael gave a thankful, relieved nod and rushed off down the corridor at a breakneck pace.
'Well, Grimm,' Dalquist said, 'shall we stay together, or would you rather explore on your own?'
'If you don't mind, Dalquist, I'd rather choose my own path,' Grimm replied. 'For most of the last ten years, I've been locked up within the bounds of Arnor House. It would be nice to wander around alone for a while, without purpose and without cares. I hope you're not offended by this.'
Dalquist smiled. 'Not in the least, my friend. Mages of our calling are almost expected to show an independent streak. We can compare notes later, perhaps during dinner. There is a splendid Refectory here, as I recall. What do you say to the idea of meeting back at the Refectory in four hours?'
'That sounds ideal, Dalquist. Four hours it is.'
Grimm found it pleasant to wander about the Lodge without any firm destination or goal, but he had to admit that the endless series of identical passageways tempered any sense of real exploration.
'Entrance Hall,' he instructed the magical gem, and a bright green strip appeared along a corridor to the right.
After five minutes of following the glowing arrow, he recognised the splendid staircase that led back to the hall. Within two minutes more, he had gained the archway that led back to what he now thought of as the 'real world'.
The confusion of the early afternoon had subsided to a low hubbub, and Grimm found that he was able to move freely among the petitioners and the reception desks.
'One rainstorm, localised, of three days' duration, good sir: two gold pieces. I wish your farm bounty and increase.'
'A termination of pregnancy will cost you five silver pieces, Miss. Yes, Miss, I am aware who you are, but High Lodge cannot extend lines of credit, even to the illustrious.'
'One cosmetic illusion of two days' duration: seven pieces of gold.'
From these brief exchanges, Grimm gathered that the mighty High Lodge ran on hard cash, rather than on philosophical, philanthropic principles; he also noted the relative values of these judgements.
He found the discourse in the hall dull and money-oriented, rather than giving him an interesting insight into worldly life, and he became bored. He was about to go in search of further diversion when he felt a tug at his sleeve.
He turned to his right to see an attractive girl of perhaps his own age standing at his side. She was about five feet in height, with flawless skin and large, lambent, blue eyes, and she wore a simple, black-and-white habit that marked her as a member of some religious order.
To an adolescent who had been raised in a strict, all-male environment, she seemed like an angel. Grimm might be a potent Mage Questor, a lethal Weapon of the Guild, but he was still a sixteen-year-old youth.
'Lord Mage, I am Sister Madeleine,' the vision of loveliness intoned, her eyes wide. 'I wonder if you could help me.'
Grimm felt awkward, unsure of how to respond. 'What's the problem, er, Sister?' He had forgotten to use the formal, stilted Mage Speech expected of a member of the Guild in his dealings with outsiders, but it did not seem to matter.
Sister Madeleine drew him to a corner of the hall; the simple pressure of her small hand on his shoulder seemed to electrify the young Questor.
'There's no problem, Lord Mage,' the nun whispered, 'I just wanted to ask you a question.'
Grimm was puzzled. What could a young nun want of him? 'What… what is it?' he asked, his tone brusquer than he had intended.
The girl lowered her eyes, revealing disturbingly long, dark lashes 'What's your name?'
'Er, G-grimm Afelnor,' Grimm stammered. He felt completely unprepared for this situation. 'Look, um, Sister, I have to…'
Sister Madeleine giggled, and Grimm felt a hot flush warming his face.
'It's all right, Gur-Grimm Afelnor,' she whispered. 'I won't eat you. I just wondered why you're so young. All the other mages around here look ancient. It makes a change to see someone of my own age around here.'
'I'm a Mage Questor,' Grimm said, feeling as if his head were stuffed with cotton wool, 'we don't take as long to develop our powers as other mages. If you'll excuse me, I'll just…'
The girl approached Grimm closely, and Grimm felt as if the hall had just become much warmer. 'I didn't just want to know that, Gur-Grimm Afelnor. I'd like to get to know you a little better. How long will you be here?'
Grimm's mouth worked uselessly for a couple of moments.
