SAND TRAP

I

Mainu dropped a dark sheet over the window, blocking out the warm autumn colors outside, and dipped his quill. He'd found he could focus better in low light, as much as Weshirel had once encouraged him to stay connected to nature. He got out sometimes. At least, that was what he told himself as he stared at the blank scroll, which was lit by the eerie, barely sufficient glow of a single lantern on the wall.

He let his feather pen drip back into the inkwell while he thought. Suddenly, inky blackness spattered chaotically on the edge of the glass jar, and he cringed, hurrying to find a small rag and wipe the ink away with trembling fingers. He gingerly rested the pen against the jar's lip and leaned back in his chair. As far as he could while maintaining his good posture, at least. He was tense. A quickly approaching deadline was ruining his concentration, but spells didn't write themselves. He paused. "Jott?" A small book on a podium across the room flipped open. "Note to self: Write a spell that writes spells."

His words appeared in the book at the bottom of a list of many other categorized reminders, and when Jott thumped shut with a satisfying lack of a dust cloud, Mainu turned his attention back to the scroll on his desk. "Too bad the client wanted it hand-written, don't you think?" he said, presumably to the book. It ignored him, as books are wont to do.

After a quite short silence, something skittered down the ornate stone halls behind him, and he whipped around, giving the general direction of the tiny intruder a murderous stare over the back of the chair. "All right, another note, Jott," he snapped. "Whatever that is, I'm trapping it. Tonight." Jott recorded this note too.

A few minutes later, the door was closed, Mainu's hood, desk and chair were straight, and his quills were lined up as perfectly as his distant neighbor's less-than-flourishing orchard trees. And yet, his focus eluded him. He couldn't shake off the feeling that he was being watched, and that bothered him much more than ink spatters and asymmetry. The tower stairs were always locked.

More skittering feet. Mainu groaned, got up and peeked into the hall. An obsidian-black, faceless figure stared back at him from the shadows. Mainu's finger froze in a half-point. Then, he quickly shut the door and let sunlight back into the room. Desperate to believe that what he had seen had only been a trick of the light, he sat back down without another glance behind him.

A few seconds of tense quiet passed, and then a calm, genderless voice said from inside the room, "I have a request, Mainu."

Beads of sweat gathered on his forehead. Mostly to himself, he murmured, "I've got a job to do."

"This is more important, I promise you." It sounded unhurried, yet strangely insistent. And closer. Mainu slowly turned to look. His neck had gone stiff.

The being was quite tall and hovering slightly. Its humanoid body was split into six long, pointed ovals, one each for the head, body, and each arm and leg. The limb shards were cracked in half to allow for joints. Other than that, it had no features at all. Mainu stood and backed into his desk. "Write me a note downstairs," he offered. "I'll try to get to it."

It chuckled and passed its arm through a bookcase to demonstrate why that hadn't crossed its mind before. "Your feigned ignorance is rather amusing," it said knowingly.

Mainu held out a hand as a warning before seeing that the fate, if that really was what it was, was immaterial and couldn't disturb his perfectly aligned books. Unlike his usual clients. "No. There's an illusion mage right outside. I'm not an idiot." He looked out the window at the still unoccupied garden and worry creased his brow.

"Maybe not, but you are in need of some experiential learning. And I have a quest for you."

"What is this, a test?"

It cocked its head. "No, a quest. Is your hearing all right?"

"Yes, it's fine. Everything's fine." He reached blindly for the scroll on his desk and rolled it up on instinct. After a moment, he sputtered in sheer panic, "What in the name of the fates is going on?"

"You shall go to the city-"

"It's three days away by foot," Mainu replied belligerently.

"We both know that is beside the point, but if I must, I will help you to get there," the fate said, sounding more impatient. "You must protect the princess. She is in danger."

Mainu smirked. "And you want my help? Look at me, do I look like a hero?"

The fate studied Mainu. "You are rather scrawny," it admitted, and he nodded. "And pale, but that is usual for mages of your caliber."

"How would you know about my caliber?" Mainu asked with narrow eyes. He gripped the edge of his desk more firmly. Its smoothness helped ground him in reality. "Who are you, anyway?"

"Hesykhia, Master Fate of Illusions."

Mainu rolled his eyes. "Sure," he scoffed, almost ready to sit back down again. "Why should I listen to you? You're probably just a random fate messing with me. Or an illusion," he added as a clear afterthought.

"There are no illusion mages anywhere near your tower," the fate sighed, massaging its nonexistent temples. "As for motivation, I promise that you will receive a reward if you do what I ask of you. Protect the princess, with your life if necessary. She is the future of the kingdom."

He lit up at the mention of a reward. "Simple enough, right? Just teleport to Ruptia, cast a protection spell and let her live on. What's the reward?"

"That is not for you to know right now."

Mainu hmphed. "Fine. I'll do it. This had better be quick." He pocketed the blank scroll and some writing supplies and crossed the room to get his staff and Jott, which he flipped through to make sure his to-do list from earlier was in order. He had drawn a teleportation rune in another room for unusual times such as these when he needed to visit the city, but as soon as he stepped through the doorway in front of him, painfully bright iridescence blanketed his vision. The tower walls vanished.