Two knocks bounced around the room. Opening one eye brought sharp pain from the bright sun shining in the half-open shutters. Closing his eyes, Lebuin turned over, pulling one of the soft down pillows over his head. The coolness of the cream silk cover felt good. Two knocks again.

Maybe whoever it is will give up and go away.

Waiting for the expected knocks was dragging his mind out of the unconsciousness of sleep. The previous day’s events rolled around his head.

Oh, Lords, what am I going to do? I have no idea what to do next. I have to leave, but for what?

Concentrating, Lebuin tried to pull back any memories of what the teachers might have said about Journeyman requirements. Nothing was coming. The effort brought him awake.

Why did no one mention this? Or was this something else everyone thought I knew, so no one told me?

Too many questions, not enough answers. The bed was comfortable and warm, with the silk sheets against his skin. Closing his eyes he started to drift off to sleep.

Two more knocks bounced around the room.

“I don’t have classes. Go away.” He mumbled, barely audible even to himself.

He waited, remembering Magus Cune’s evil smirk as he walked away after the ceremony.

The ceremony, that incantation with my creation was unexpected. It linked us somehow.

Remembering when the link was established, his training took over, and he broke the memory down, recalling the precise feelings of the power and its interactions with his physical and mental bodies. He examined himself mentally and found the connection. A slim thread of a channel was present where none had been before. The incantation had imprinted on him as if he had been an artifact.

He fed a little power from his core into the channel. A new awareness was added to his list of senses.

Interesting. I can feel every Magi around.

Playing with the new sense, he realized there were slight flavors or colors or scents to each feeling.

Ah! I bet I can tell who is who if I pay enough attention to this and keep it active.

Deciding to refer to the variations in the sense as ‘scents,’ Lebuin adjusted his mental state, adding the new channel to the incantations he maintained continuously.

Now, I just need to pay careful attention when I meet each Magus to learn their scent.

Two more knocks bounced around the room. Groaning, he sat up. “Who is it? I was asleep.”

“Journeyman Lebuin, please, your breakfast.”

Breakfast? I didn’t order any food. I thought it was another mage.

Reaching out with his mind, he released the inner locks on the door. An immaculately dressed servant opened the door while balancing the tray of food.

He is well dressed. He looks quite respectable in the Guild uniform. And that is a very tidy uniform.

Closing the door behind him, the servant moved to the side table and put the tray down. Handing Lebuin a cup of dark fluid he said, “Sorry it isn’t hot anymore. I have been circling for a mark, waiting for you to answer the door.”

“I can warm it up.” Lebuin used magic to heat the cold cup of arit.

Circling for a mark? That doesn’t make any sense. I know I am not fully awake yet.

“My Lord, Ditani, what are you doing here? I don’t recall seeing you for more than a year.”

Ditani smiled. “At least, you remember me. Gezu wasn’t sure if you’d remember a servant.”

Lebuin’s back stiffened at the snide comment, the familiar use of Magus Gezu’s name, and the easy, familiar way Ditani spoke to him. “I can have you dismissed for that comment.”

Chuckling, Ditani made a painful-looking smirk. That made Lebuin even more irate. “Wouldn’t it be most difficult to dismiss someone who doesn’t work for you?”

The majority of his conscious thoughts stopped on that comment. Taking a deep drink from the hot arit to give himself time to recover, Lebuin recalled Magus Cune’s last statement. ‘I placed a rather large bet you could complete the quest with a less-than-upstanding, but influential, friend of mine.’

Staring at the empty cup of arit, panic struck him.

Lords, did I just drink poison? Would he strike me so fast, and in the Guild?

Looking at Ditani closer, he saw what he had registered almost unconsciously earlier — the uniform was immaculate. It had been maintained in pristine condition. Further, it fit Ditani extremely well, far better than most servants’ uniforms fit. With them being standard, the Guild bought them in quantity in various sizes, and the servants could pick and choose the closest fit. They rarely took the time to correct the fit. Ditani’s had none of the normal signs of wear or stains. Obviously not new, it had been precisely tailored to Ditani’s form some time ago. Would an assassin take the time to tailor a uniform?

Ditani stood watching Lebuin.

He doesn’t seem malevolent. He looks worried.

Lebuin felt more awake as the arit flowed into his system. Ditani’s eyes had deep bags, as if he hadn’t had much sleep, if any. His complexion was also far whiter than would be normal, especially for a Karakian.

No, he isn’t an assassin; he is scared and worried about something. He dresses well and takes care of his clothes. Maybe I can help. “Well, if you aren’t a Guild servant, then you might as well sit down and tell me why you are here.”

Ditani glanced around, and Lebuin pointed to a chair, which slid a few feet over to Ditani. He sat, paused, and then like a cork popping from a bottle of chantrose, he burst out, “I don’t know who to trust. I am not even sure if anything is wrong. He has only been missing since yesterday morning. Still, he said he’d meet me, and he didn’t. Then he didn’t make the appointment. When I checked the room, he wasn’t there. I had to seek help. So I came here. I don’t know why, but I stopped at my cousin’s place to get one of my old uniforms. When I got here, everyone was talking about how you had nearly killed Magus Cune and were going to advance. I wanted to talk to Varni to get help. But she died just after I left with Gezu’s last letter. Dead — first Gezu, then Varni is dead. It can’t be coincidence. I found Magus Crawstu, but she was talking to Magus Cune, and I heard them say that with Magus Gezu dead, there was none left to shelter you, leaving you in the dark. I fled, and then I didn’t know who to trust. But I remembered Gezu and Varni saying they liked you. They had to, with the notes and all. With your new status, I thought you might be able to help. But then the ceremony was announced, and Councilor Nillo ordered me to fetch you in the hall. He just stopped me in the hall and asked. Can you believe that? He didn’t even notice who I was or that I had been gone. After that, I couldn’t get you alone....”

“Lords, stop. Calm down, Ditani.” Lebuin selected a glass of juice from the tray and floated it over to Ditani, who gave it an apprehensive glance. “Here, drink this and relax. I need to get dressed, and then we’ll go through all of that again, except slower and with more detail.”

Nodding, Ditani plucked the glass out of the air with a grateful smile and a shaking hand. He sipped some of the juice and sat quietly, watching as Lebuin stood up and stretched.

He is spinning faster than a top. Just give him a few minutes to calm down. He must have been thinking he’d get murdered for sneaking in here.

He moved to the two armoires and opened them wide. Grabbing his brushes, he stepped to the basin and poured some water into it. He didn’t bother warming it up, letting the fresh cold water help rinse the remaining cobwebs from his mind.

I’d better do a rush job, but not too fast; he looks like he is starting to unwind.

Tilting the shaving mirror, he cleaned his teeth, brushed his hair, trimmed his beard, and corrected his bangs.

Lebuin then examined his outfits.

I need to look dignified, but not too formal. I have to go shopping.

His eyes were drawn to a beautiful pair of gray trousers. After slipping into them, he pulled out a maroon silk shirt with silver embroidery, loose sleeves, and long stiff cuffs. Over that, he put on a sleeveless doublet of brushed suede, dyed forest green, with gold and silver geometric patterns embroidered along the center line. To that, he added a belt, into which he placed his utility knife and small pouch before securing it in a looped fashion.

He selected complementary tall riding boots, pulled them on, and arranged his trousers for best effect. Finally, he put everything away where it belonged and took the light gray samite and ermine cloak from the hanger. As he put it on and fastened it with the artifact from his trial, he watched while the incantations began their work on his clothing. He smiled as small bits of dust fell to the floor in the sunlight. Turning, he admired the results in the mirror.

I still look like a well-dressed skeleton. But at least a good night sleep has removed the haunted look from my eyes.

Feeling clean and presentable, Lebuin closed the armoires. He stepped over to Ditani, who was still tense, but had shifted to a more comfortable position and had drunk most of the juice.

Good. He appears more relaxed now. But he needs some sleep. He’s about to drop.

He wasn’t sure why he cared so much. Sitting down on the edge of his bed, he said, “You look a little better. Why don’t you eat?”

Realizing that it would make Ditani nervous to eat in front of a mage, he decided to adjust course. “I mean, please join me in finishing off these biscuits and fruit you were kind enough to bring.”

To emphasize the point, he flexed his always-active telekinetic incantation to bring the side table with the tray to sit between them. He took an apple from the top and bit into it. Ditani took an apple, but instead of biting it, he held it in his shaking hands for a few minutes, seeming out of place. “You mentioned someone was missing. Who exactly is missing?”

Ditani looked at him as if he had missed some vital clue. Then he sighed. “Magus Vestul is missing. We came here to meet with a duke. I am not sure which one. Magus Vestul only called him ‘Duke’ when he talked about him or sent him messages.”

Nodding to encourage Ditani to keep going, he took another bite. Ditani bit into the apple and chewed slowly. “Magus Vestul sent me out to get a special gift for this duke. Apparently, he has a taste for very old sharre.”

“Interesting and expensive. Aged sharre is difficult to find. Did you get the sharre?”

“Yes, we had ordered it weeks ago, before coming here. He was supposed to meet me at the inn, but he never came. I went up to our room, but without the key, I can’t open the door. I knocked several times with no answer. When the time for the meeting came, I went, expecting to find Magus Vestul there.” Taking another bite, Ditani chewed and swallowed. “At the duke’s residence, I wasn’t allowed to meet him. I offered my apologies on behalf of Magus Vestul and delivered the gift. I was fed an excellent early dinner alone. When Magus Vestul still had not come, I was escorted out and asked to help find him. So I went everywhere I could think of, but no one had any knowledge of where he could be. No one had seen him since the day before.”

Lebuin took a few nuts from the plate and popped them into his mouth, savoring the flavor. “Then you came here to see if any Magi had seen him?”

“Yes. Magus Vestul’s missing the meeting has me worried for him, and I’m afraid that he was doing something dangerous. I felt I should try to be nondescript, so I went and got one of my old uniforms to blend in. When I got here, I found out Varni was dead. Vestul had asked me to help Gezu and Varni for a time, but when Gezu died, Varni stopped their work and sent me back to Magus Vestul with their notes. Vestul had planned on stopping to see Varni while back in Llino, so he didn’t know she was dead. To discover Varni dead was too much. Then I got pulled into your ceremony.”

“Magus,” he emphasized the word, “Gezu died of heart failure in his sleep, and Magus Varni died later, also of heart failure. There was nothing anyone could do by the time either was found. They were both old, and their deaths were not suspicious.”

“I would accept that if Magus Vestul wasn’t missing.” Ditani straightened, his eyes pleading.

If I assist him I might be able to coax him into my service. He knows how to dress well, he is experienced with mages, and I bet he knows things that will come in handy.

“Well, I can do anything I want now, and Magus Vestul would certainly have some good ideas for my Journeyman quest. I need to speak with the councilor first, and then I will help you look.”

Ditani practically leapt over the table to clasp Lebuin’s arms. Tears began to show in the corners of his eyes. “Thank you, Master Lebuin, thank you. I really need your assistance. I don’t know what to do.”

Standing up, Lebuin grasped Ditani’s arms in his hands. Giving his best warm smile, he said, “You’re welcome. I’ll be back. In the meantime, you can stay here and rest.” He pointed to his bed. “Why don’t you lie down and take a nap while I attend my meeting? Then we’ll go out and see if we can find Magus Vestul together.”

He really is scared. Is it that dangerous outside these walls?

Locking the door behind him, Lebuin moved through the halls, towards the main offices. When he arrived, a secretary nodded to him from behind a tidy desk. His shirt was crumpled around the neck, and the elbows were wearing thin.

You really shouldn’t wear the same shirt so frequently. Heavens, you look like a pauper, and I know you get paid well.

Indicating the open doorway beyond his desk, he said, “Journeyman Lebuin, thank you for coming. Magus Nillo asked me to send you in as soon as you came by.”

Stepping around the desk, he smiled at the secretary. “Thank you.”

He stopped and peeked in. The office was lined with shelves, every one brimming with folders, books, and collectables. A table with three old, beaten-up chairs sat next to a chalkboard that was so clean it might never have been used. Opposite the door sat a rather large desk in the shape of a large ‘L’. The desk was as tidy as the secretary’s, with a number of stacks of papers, each held down with a statue or split geode.

On one corner of the desk, near the tip of the ‘L,’ was an unusual hollow device made of gold, silver, and numerous gems. It was shaped like an oversized egg and made of a loose weave of gold and silver. It had an organic feel, and the gems were cut as the leaves of the twisted vines. The center of it was in the shape of a perfect sphere. It rested on a wooden base.

Every time I ask about that, he avoids the question. Maybe now I can find out what it is.

Seated in an oversized leather chair behind the desk was the bear of a man who ran the Guild from that office. Councilor Nillo stood at least six inches taller than anyone else Lebuin had ever seen. Although bald on top, he had nearly a lion’s mane of silver hair, which he kept medium length, and which stood straight out from his head, almost giving him a halo. His beard was dark black, in contrast to his hair, and he kept it in a sharp, perfect goatee. That day, he was wearing a tired gray robe over a new white linen shirt.

“Ah, Journeyman Lebuin. You are up earlier than I expected.” His deep voice was surprisingly soft and melodic. Smiling wide and showing a set of sharp, white teeth, he pointed at a chair. “Please, sit down.”

Lebuin moved to the chair and sat down. At the same time, Councilor Nillo stood up and pulled something from a high shelf. Sitting back down, the councilor produced two crystal glasses. In his hand, the bottle of sharre looked like a toy. He poured two half-glasses and then resealed the bottle, putting it aside on his desk.

Handing a glass to Lebuin, he held his up. “To the rather impressive end of one life and the beginning of a new one. May you serve Argos well.”

“Thank you, Councilor.” He lifted his glass, clinked it with the councilor’s, and took a mouthful. The strongest, warmest sensation he had ever experienced nearly caused him to sputter. Warmth spread through his whole body faster than he thought possible. All the minor aches from the week’s trials vanished, and he stopped caring that the highest councilor of the Guild was dressed like a sheep herder.

Shaking his head, he looked at the councilor, who was sporting the happy smile of a trickster. “How old is this?”

Councilor Nillo examined the bottle. “I recall that this particular bottle was in my predecessor’s storage. I would imagine it is likely at least a hundred years old. It doesn’t yet have the feel of the good two-hundred-and-fifty bottle I shared with Prince Mory.”

Even with the calming effects of the sharre, Lebuin gasped. “One-hundred-year-old sharre? That has to be worth ten crowns!”

Without flinching, he said, “More likely, twelve or thirteen.” His smile widened dramatically. “Per glass. Nice, isn’t it?”

“Nice doesn’t begin to describe it.”

In spite of himself, he took another drink. His tired channels filled with energy, and he felt as if he had just finished a week in a health retreat, eating good food, resting, bathing, and being massaged until every ache was gone and all tiredness was removed.

“If this is what one-hundred-year-old sharre is like, I can see why it is so expensive and hard to find.”

“It has been said that five-hundred-year-old sharre can restore youth.” A little twinkle in Councilor Nillo’s eye showed he didn’t believe it. “Keeping it that long in the right conditions would be tricky, if not impossible.”

Another mouthful of the amazing liquor brought more feelings of well-being and confidence. “Councilor, I never thought I’d have to leave this place. I knew Journeymen Mages were to do research into various magics. I was looking forward to spending my time in the labs and library doing just that. Why do I have to leave?”

He leaned back in his chair, and the door behind Lebuin closed. “Lebuin, I know you never came to a Journeyman Mage ceremony. I also know you labored under the idea of staying within these walls your whole career. You had to be kept here through your youth because of what you are. However, that also cut you off from your peers, and sadly, it seems, most of the world. You might make an amazing scholar someday, but Argos insists that all his Magi spend a significant amount of time in the field. It is important to know the world and the people whom we live to protect. This is why the rank of Journeyman is required, and it is not just a name.” The Magus leveled a finger at him. “It is a description of the requirements of the rank, which you agreed to last night. You are to be the eyes and ears of the Guild and Argos in the world.”

“So I am just kicked out until I find something new?”

“Oh, no, you are not kicked out. You are only required to journey most of the time. Your research must be out there,” he said, waving at the window. “It takes years of work as a Journeyman Mage to achieve enough experiences to advance to the rank of Magus. Contribution to the Guild in the form of new knowledge, be it magical or mundane, is a side effect of your own experience.” Looking sternly, he continued, “Lebuin, you work directly for Lord Argos. He is not so heavy a taskmaster as some other Gods, but he does have goals for all his mages. For now, your task is to go out, experience the real world, learn about the people, and find some new magic or a different way to apply magic. When you have done that, you will be ready for the next task already set out for you. Do not believe you are so unique; all mages have done this, since the founding of the Guild.”

Another swallow kept the warmth flowing through Lebuin’s veins. “What if I am killed in this work?”

“This is not the end of our adventures. Death has its own…paths. You may come back to research what you have learned in the libraries and with the Magi present to determine if you have found something new. Once it is agreed, you may then stay here and assist in preparing a manuscript, or an update to an existing manuscript, with your new knowledge. But you cannot stay here longer than absolutely necessary to make such determinations and updates. You will know when it is time for your next task.”

Thinking of Ditani, he asked, “Can I have help outside of the Guild? Assistants, other mages?”

“Of course. You can even spend your family’s small fortune, trying to speed it up, if you desire. There are no limitations on how you go about your work. But remember, you are bound by the Laws of Magic far more now than yesterday, and Lord Argos is not forgiving of violations by his mages. The Gods long ago declared that ignorance is not an acceptable defense for any violation of their laws. Many countries have adopted this into their own legal systems. So beware of local laws, as ignorance is not likely to be forgiven, especially from a Journeyman Mage. Don’t worry. We will know where you are and if you are still alive. Should the need arise, we will be able to find you quickly, no matter where you may find yourself traveling.”

“That was the incantation at the ceremony, wasn’t it? All those channels are links, so I can be traced. Or so I can trace others.”

The councilor sat up straighter. “You detected the threads? You recognized their purposes?”

“Of course. Why shouldn’t I? I have even activated the channel within me imprinted by the ceremony.”

The councilor stood up and came around the desk, placing his hands on Lebuin’s head. Seeing no reason to resist, he relaxed and waited. “You have done that. But how did you know to do it?”

“It seemed the right thing to do. I followed the feelings of the ceremony to find the channel.”

“You are only the third Journeyman in the history of the Guild to do this. That channel was not meant to be shown to you until you were made a Magus. Activating it is part of the Magus ceremony.”

Sitting up, he said, “But that is the purpose of using my artifact, isn’t it? An artifact can identify its owner.”

“Yes, I see no reason to hide this from you now. You’d discover it shortly anyway. Any magical artifact can be used by a Magus to trace its maker if he or she is still alive. Most artifacts cease to work once the maker has died, unless a trick is employed to make the artifact independent. However, even independent artifacts can still be used to trace their makers. In some cases, with certain knowledge, the artifact can also be used to breach the maker’s defenses.”

Lebuin thought about that. “So if another mage got any of my existing artifacts, he could find me and affect me through any defenses I might have.”

Nodding, the councilor moved back to his seat. “Yes, it can be very complicated. I know you are not yet certain of what to do first. So I suggest you go out on the town, find a guide, and explore something, anything you want. I am sure there were questions you had about things in your training, and now is the time to go and answer those. You also have full access to the entire library, so before you spend cycles trying to answer a question, it would be best if you asked if it has been researched yet. Good luck, Lebuin. You’ve given us all a lot of surprises. I suspect your results will likely be just as unique. Do you have any questions?”

“I am sure I will have more later, but since I can come back and ask, I only have one. What was that one thread at the ceremony that went to the ceiling?”

The councilor looked at him and took a swig from his own glass before answering. “You detected that one. You really are a wonder. It didn’t go to the ceiling, it went through the ceiling. I have even seen it go in many directions, which makes me happy. To answer your question, that thread went to Lord Argos.”

Lebuin blinked. Even with the ancient sharre in his system, the shock was immense.

I am truly bound to a real God. A God that can smell me out, no matter where I may go. I wonder how much can be done with this connection.

“You’re white. Finish your drink. It does take some time to get used to this knowledge. You’ve earned this.” He pulled a flat leather case from his desk and handed it to Lebuin.

It was an ornate folded leather case, slightly smaller than his palm, inscribed with the Guild’s seal. It opened on one side. With the front cover opened, a silver and gold inlaid disk, mounted to the stiff leather backing, was revealed. The disk was engraved with his name, the Guild seal, and the word ‘Journeyman’ in four languages around the edge.

Lebuin looked at the councilor.

“It’s your Journeyman badge,” Councilor Nillo said.

Laughing, Lebuin said, “So last night, when they congratulated me for earning the badge of Journeyman, it was not figurative.” Standing, he nodded to the councilor. “I will find something to do soon. I already have a small quest in mind to perhaps get some ideas on what to really do.”

The councilor didn’t stand. He made a shooing motion towards the door, which opened behind Lebuin. “Yes, go, go, and find your first task. Argos will guide you.”

Before I go out, I need to get a few defenses ready. I can’t be caught stunned like I was last night.

Stopping in the library, he reviewed some defense tomes. He chose a couple of rather crude, but easy, attack formulae from the ones taught to all mages. Remembering the lessons, he pooled the energies needed and prepared the incantations, adding them to the ones he had memorized.

Now, I can defend myself. Pleased with the preparations, he left the library.

Opening the door to his room, he saw Ditani was napping in the chair where he had left him. As he came in, Ditani snapped to standing, embarrassed. “Master Lebuin, my apologies. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” He seemed better for the food and the short nap.

“Ditani, you’ve nothing to be embarrassed about. I have discharged my only duty for the day. Come, let us see if we can find Magus Vestul.” Holding the door, he motioned to get Ditani moving.

Instead of heading out to the hall, Ditani stood still and, quietly, so no one beyond the open door might hear, asked, “Um, if you’ll forgive my forwardness, Master Lebuin. Might it not be wise to bring some money?”

Oh, my, he is good.

“Thank you. Yes, I should bring some money. I have some things I’ll need to buy, so I might as well do some shopping while we look. Also, I assume you mean some tokens might also help restore lost memories?”

Ditani nodded.

I must remember everything will cost a coin or three. I might have to stop by my father’s office and withdraw some funds. I wonder how much a nice, comfortable cart will cost. I need to be able to take my clothes with me. Opening a locked drawer, he pulled out his coin purse and examined it. Well, I assume eleven crosses and change will take care of the day. He put the coin purse into his belt pouch and turned to leave.

Ditani was standing there, waiting. Seeing that Lebuin was prepared, he opened the door for Lebuin.

Yes, indeed. He will be a welcome companion for the next few years. That is, if I can hire him away from Magus Vestul.

As they left the Guild, he strengthened his shields as much as he could, while holding the other incantations at the ready.

Ditani took him first to the Blue Dolphin Inn. Lebuin had never been inside it, but had walked past it dozens of times on his way to the docks and his family’s offices. Ditani held the door, and the smoke parted around him as he entered. Even through the filtering of his shields, he could smell the various scents of tobac. He decided he should also get some of the better leaf, as he was running low.

He took a minute to let his eyes adjust to the dimmer room. It was much larger than he expected, taking up more than half of the central section of the building and stretching all the way, front to back. A huge bar stood across the back wall. Halls led out of the room from the back right and left sides. Three enormous fireplaces were burning low. Next to the bar on the back wall, was a wide table, with a cloth covering, that had the box symbols for card games. Metal scissor-like apparatuses were mounted in some tables, and after observing a few with occupants, he could see they were for holding a dagger upright. Daggers were stuck right into the wood of some of the others.

Lebuin saw that the people who were sitting where the upright daggers stood were staring back at him with assessing eyes. Not one of them seemed embarrassed, and most met him eye to eye.

These are Daggers for hire. I forgot the Blue Dolphin is supposed to be where the best of the Daggers hire out.

Looking at the daggers in the tables, he observed that they were all functional weapons, but each was distinctive.

I need to ask Dad what the protocol is for hiring a Dagger. I might need one, and I can probably afford one of the best.

Ditani motioned for him to follow. He led Lebuin to the bar, where a large muscled man was talking to a couple of well-dressed gentlemen. A lady dressed more like a city guard stood in the middle of the bar, facing him. She leaned back against the counter with a heavy mug in one hand, and the other, resting on the hilt of a sword. The bartender was dressed well, but his clothes had dozens of stains from the food and drink he served.

Trying to not appear too out of place, Lebuin sat down on one of the many stools at the bar. He then scanned the room. The Daggers had gone back to whatever they were doing when he came in. Some were writing in journals, and others had an array of objects on their tables, using them to work on one weapon or another. Still others were just talking.

It was busier than he expected for midmorning. A few people, mostly reasonably well-dressed, vacated a table after looking him over. He noticed that a group of workmen who came in behind him walked past empty tables with the dagger holders and chose to sit at the communal ones.

Why not sit at the empty one? Can only Daggers sit at those? Not exactly good behavior, sticking a dagger into a table, especially when there are empty ones with dagger holders for that purpose.

There were three empty with holders, and they were all near walls. As he watched, a man handed a couple of bells to one of the Daggers sitting at a table with a holder near the center of the room. The Dagger and his companions stood up, taking his dagger from the holder, and they left with their employer. There was a silent exchange of looks between the Daggers at the ones without holders. One stood up, pulling his dagger out of the wooden top. He walked over and sat down, placing his dagger into the holder.

That was interesting. There must be a ranking order. Those other empty holder tables must signify something that these mercenaries don’t feel up to challenging or claiming.

“Master.” He remembered he was there for a purpose, and while he had been staring at the unfamiliar room, Ditani had been talking in soft tones with the bartender. “Magus Vestul has still not been seen.”

“Let’s go check the room.”

“I don’t have the key.”

“Well, we can still knock. Won’t the innkeeper open it for us?”

“No, that isn’t how it works here. Blue Dolphin rooms are for key-holders only. If you don’t have a room key and aren’t a known guest, they won’t let you upstairs.”

Thinking of Magus Gezu, he asked, “What if Magus Vestul died overnight in the room of a heart problem, like Magus Gezu?”

Ditani appeared to be worried at the thought. “I don’t know. It is not very likely.”

Lebuin turned around to the bar and signaled for the barkeeper to come over. After a minute he did.

“Yes, m’Lord. Wha’ can I getcha?”

“I’d like to speak to the innkeeper, please.”

The large man stood still, staring at him as if he was an interesting insect. A shiver ran down his back, and he strengthened his shield a little more. The barkeeper’s voice remained calm, even friendly. “M’Lord, I’m da innkeeper, owner an’ enforcer. How may I serve you?” The last had only a slight accent.

Oh great! I have insulted one of the most influential people in the city, and I have only been a Journeyman here for a few marks.

Smiling as nicely as he could, he pulled a chera out and placed it on the counter near his hand. He hoped it was out of view of most of the room’s occupants. “My apologies. I am worried about a friend, Magus Vestul. He is not young. Is there any way to check his room to be sure he hasn’t had an accident?”

The man considered the idea. “Wait here.” He then walked around the end of the bar, crossed the room, and went up a set of circular stone stairs, which Lebuin had not noticed, as the entrance was hidden from the main door, but visible from the bar. All of the Daggers watched the innkeeper as he left, and then looked back at Lebuin. He felt like a specimen on display, so he turned his back on the room and leaned on the bar as casually as possible. Ditani stood next to him, facing the room.

Lebuin reached for where his coin had been on the counter.

He didn’t take the coin. I thought bribes were common.

His hand came up empty, and he turned to the bar in shock.

Wait, where is the coin?

He considered the other people near the bar, but none of them were close enough to have taken it. Thinking back, he mused, I’d swear on a stack of crowns, he didn’t reach for the coin, and no one else could have, either.

He turned his eyes toward Ditani, confused. Ditani stood there, watching the room, and asked, “Do you think he’ll open the room?”

“Of course, but where did my chera go?”

Ditani gave him almost the same expression as the innkeeper before answering, “Genne took it.”

Turning, he was able to observe the room. As he waited, well-dressed folks came and went. Almost every merchant or noble walked around the room, boldly examining the daggers in the tables and the Daggers sitting at them, too. “Is that normal?”

Ditani turned to see what he was talking about. “Yes. Merchants need specific services, so they have to find the right Dagger for their needs. No Dagger will ever take offense at being sized up by a client.”

Genne returned. “M’Lord, ya needn’t worry, yer friend ain’t dead in da room. Der ain’t no un in da room. Can I getcha anyting else?”

Well, so much for an easy solution. Now what?

He shook his head. “Thank you, no. When he comes back, can you tell him Journeyman Lebuin would like to speak with him as soon as possible at the Guildhouse?”

“O’course, m’Lord. Ri’after I tell ‘im of all da udder reques’. Very popular, dat one. I ’ave ta’ charge ‘im more nex’ time.”

Now, that is interesting. “Uh, popular? I take it, there are a lot of people asking to see him.”

Genne paused, looking at him, before Lebuin realized that nothing more was going to come without some coin. Sighing, he fished out another chera. That time, he left his finger on it. The man gave him a friendly smile and a wink. “Ya might say dat. Been tree udders askin’ after him.”

Beginning to get the feel for it, he left the coin where it was, but added another one. Smiling, he leaned in closer. “Anyone I might know?”

“No, m’Lord. Not likely. One was a friend o’ Duke, anudder was a recen’ regular, Sula by name, and da las’ was a Knife, stake me rep on dat, I would.”

I know about the duke, but what a Knife is, I don’t think I want to know. Maybe I can meet this Sula, and we can help each other.

Nodding as he added a third coin, he asked, “Sula is a new regular? Where might I find him?”

The innkeeper’s hand came down, covering his hand and all three coins. It felt heavy, muscled, and coarse. “M’Lord, be careful o’dat un. Ya can fin’ ‘er at da Temple o’ Dalpha. Dat’s all I can do for ya.” He turned, lifting his hand, and moved to some customers who were trying to dress fashionably, but failing miserably. Looking down, he saw all three of the coins were gone.

Now, that is an interesting trick.

Lebuin stood and motioned for Ditani to follow, and he walked out, trying to look confident. On the way, he took note of some Daggers he might come back and talk to later, after he had a chance to get some advice on hiring them. Both of the Daggers he was most interested in nodded politely to him as Ditani opened the door for him.

Lords and Ladies! How did they know I was thinking of them?

Once outside, he started walking towards the docks and the main market. “This Sula sounds like she might be able to help. We can get to the Temple of Dalpha through the market.” Ditani followed.

The market was as busy as always, with buskers screaming their wares and merchants in booths, vying for the attention of anyone who even glanced at their stalls. Temple Street was on the far side of the market, so they began maneuvering through the stalls on a general course for the temple district. As they moved through the market, he paid attention to the mundane things he had never considered buying, like the leather backpacks and the more sturdy boots.

I need some boots that will not wear out, but I can keep looking respectable.

As he rounded a stall, Lebuin caught sight of a beautifully dressed woman wearing a dusky brick-red cloak with a rust-colored hood and fur-trimmed collar. The woman was turning away from him, heading down another row. Her tanned skin and curly dark brown hair were perfectly suited to the colors she wore.

My Lords, it can’t be. That is the girl from the alley!

She had already stepped out of sight with a sweetmeat in one hand and a pack swung over the opposite shoulder.

“Come on. I think I know her.” Stepping faster, he dodged around some other shoppers, not sure what he would do when he met her. But still, he knew he wanted to talk to her. He moved so fast that Ditani was left behind. She was a few feet down the aisle when he rounded the corner. Putting on his most winning smile, he rushed to get close enough to say hello.

An explosion of light and sound hit him from behind, shoving him forward violently. With his shield buckling under the force, he stumbled and tried to stay up.

What the hell was that?

Rebounding off the girl, knocking her forward, as well, he managed to regain his footing. At the same time, he pushed what energy he could through his channels to recover the protective shield before the incantation faded entirely. The sudden rush of energies was more than needed, and the excess burnt as the channels allowed what they could to flow through. Turning around, he searched for the source of the force that had hit him.

Everywhere, people were running and screaming, except for one man only a few paces away. The man was rough looking, wearing all black from neck to foot. He held a rod that was pointed straight at Lebuin. The man wore an angry expression, and his eyes burnt with a hatred Lebuin found hard to stand against.

Lords and Ladies, an assassin!

Panic welled up inside him as lightning leapt from the rod, striking him again. His shield was not enough, and he felt like a fire had exploded inside of him as the energy channel was forcibly disrupted. Worse, the energies he was trying to send through the destroyed incantation began pooling and burning. The shield was gone, and he was burning inside from energies that no longer had a place to go, as well as from the tag end of the attack that had charred his arms and chest.

The man in black’s eyes went wide and his face became white. But, he recovered his face flushing red as he rushed towards Lebuin. His voice was husky and chilling. “Diurdu!” was all Lebuin heard as the man pulled and threw a knife in a single motion. It sunk into his unprotected chest.

The pain from the knife snapped something in Lebuin. Glaring, he released all the energies that were burning in him and connected a ley line in the air to the attack formula he had prepared before leaving the Guild, targeting the assassin.

You can join me.

As he started to collapse, golden energies leapt from his hands, arcing to the assassin. Some energy jumped to the rod in the assassin’s hand. As the darkness came, Lebuin smiled that his last sight was of his killer exploding in flames. Screams echoed down after him as he fell. Faintly, he heard Ditani screaming his name, and then nothing at all.