Free Magic (complete)

Chapter 3

Anders sat in the Guardmaster's office. It was a lavish room, simply furnished with comfortable chairs and portraits of military officials. No wonder he had held the position for so long, it clearly paid well or at least kept you in comfort. The weathered knuckles of Guardmaster Buckland tapped on his desk as he stared Anders down. His skin had seen too much sun in its day, and his left cheek bone had a nasty white scar.

"This keep is on lockdown. Not so much as a mouse gets in or out without my knowing about it. And you still insist a man in brown robes jumped out a window?" Anders couldn't quite see the frown under the Guardmaster's bushy moustache but his tone was clearly that of annoyance. To be fair, Anders was just as annoyed at the fact that he had a five minute story to tell, and it had taken the past two hours in Buckland's office to get this far.

"Yes, that is exactly what I've been saying." Anders insisted through gritted teeth. He barely had a lid on his temper, and he had to grip the seat of his chair to stop from shaking.

A knock on the door drew the Guardmaster's attention and two soldiers walked in. One handed a paper to the Guardmaster and they stood at attention while he read.

"We've taken your story down boy. Now be on your way." Anders nearly exploded at the soldiers. This is what should have happened two hours ago. But he kept himself under enough control to get out of the room and safely away.

He passed by two different groups on the way back to his room. Hushed conversations, murmuring about missing items. From the sound of it most of what had been stolen last night were spell components and semi-precious stones.

Anders finally arrived at his hallway in time to see Cerdic and one of his friends leaving from the other side. Anders knew their rooms weren't around his hallway. In fact, he was the only one in the small corridor on the top floor of the keep. The walls dripped with burn marks, cracks, and other damage from past grey mages. He was put up there at first because his power was so out of control. He stayed up there by choice, and for the opportunity to be away from other people. He kept to himself far too much to know many other mages by name.

"What would they be doing up here?" Anders grumbled. Eyeing his own door with some suspicion, he carefully turned the knob. It still had a charge of lightning he put in it when he left last. It was weaker than it should be though. Some mages locked their doors, some took more extreme magical measures. Anders simply put enough of his magic into the metal to knock someone out who touched his door. I didn't last more than a few hours, but it was enough. Usually, it normally lasted longer than this.

He went inside and closed the door behind him, eyeing the end of the corridor the pig nosed boy left through. His room was small, as was any brown robe's room. He had a small bed, a desk with a few books scattered around, a small trunk and one chair. He also had his own washtub for bathing. It took one incident of shocking the other boys in the community bath before he had control over his lightning to get his own washtub. He was banned from the group baths again until he could attain at least a yellow robe.

"Anders?" Ghilda's muffled voice called to him. She knew better than to touch his door in case he wasn't in and it was charged.

"I'm here. Its open." Anders sat on his bed and cleared his chair of books for her to sit on.

"Well word in the keep is you had something to do with the thefts last night?" Ghilda swept in the room with a package and sat gracefully on his chair. "Oh don't give me that look. You know these old codgers grasp a story and run wild with it. What really happened?"

"I saw a man with long daggers in brown robes. They weren't quite like the robes here at Whitethorn but close enough in the dark. He got away but not before I shocked him." Anders laid back on the bed. "I should have given it more power but I didn't want to kill him."

"You did enough." Ghilda patted his knee. "Here, I gathered your things."

"The sand! Thank you. Did the kitchen staff notice the things I moved?" Anders shot up and took the bag from Ghilda.

"No, I put the things on the table back as best as I could. What a rush! We should sneak around at night more often." She grinned.

"No, that's plenty for me thanks." Anders pulled out his failed attempts one by one, thinking. "You know, last night gave me an idea though. I know what I want to try next anyway. But really all I want to do now is sleep."

"Poor thing, you didn't get a wink last night did you?" Ghilda stood up. "You get some rest. I'll talk to you later. I want to go see if the council has any ideas yet as to what happened last night anyway." And out the door she went. Anders didn't even remove his shoes and sat looking at his small wooden chest. The project that had consumed the last several months of his life was in there, but he had a feeling...

He jumped off the bed and tore open the lid. There, his invention was safe. Anders sighed with relief. All the pieces were there, the wire he had saved up for, the small metal plates, the hematite. He blinked, what was wrong then?

"My notes! My work!" Power crackled across his skin, burning his tunic in a number of places. His only suspect was the thief in brown. Seven long years in Whitethorn were not about to be extended because of a thief. He would pay.

"Now ain't that pretty?" A weasel-faced man leaned over Jak, who was laying on a rough wooden bench. What was left of Jak's sleeve was rolled up as high as it would go. He was laid out in a worn down tavern. The lighting was dim and the patrons were secretive. Those that knew each other's business were happy to keep it to themselves.

"Stuff it Hash, just pour it on." Jak bit down on a rag and held his arm out.

"Alright, but it's gonna smart." Hash poured a bottle of brown alcohol over the burnt and bubbling flesh of Jak's arm. The smell was horrible. Jak grunted into his rag and shut his eyes tight. It took a lot of concentration not to yell.

"There. As fixed as it's gonna be." Hash drained the last swig from the bottle down his throat and pounded the empty bottle on the table. "Whew! That don't go down smooth. If you was infected before, you ain't now."

"Well that's one use for the house special." An old man with a limp wandered into the room. "You need this place much longer? I got a particularly hush hush group what needs somewhere private. O' course if you was to pay a small fee.."

"I get it gramps, I'm leavin'." Jak stood and gently put on his cloak to hide his arm.

"The Crows Nest isn't a fit place for patients anyway." Hash added. "Let me know if you need anythin' else."

"Thanks Hash." Jak left the private booth and crossed the barroom. He had to go around a fistfight and avoid stepping on a game of dice to get to the door. He drew a hat low over his eyes and stepped into the sunlight. The Crows Nest was an excellent den of sin for conducting business, but one of Jak's rules for keeping his head attached to the rest of him was not to sleep where he made deals.

Cliffside, the town at the base of the Whitethorn cliffs was not particularly huge, but it was no village either. Several streets over from the Crows Nest was a lodging house that Jak had been renting for the past month. He didn't stay in one place too long, but he was in and out of Cliffside often enough. Good place for business.

He rounded to the back of his lodging house and went inside. He kept little to no furnishings save for a trunk with a very complicated lock. He opened it with a series of keys and tossed his pouches of magic gear inside. He looked at the book in his hand. Something was off about this job. It was a little too planned out. Normally his clients had a few helpful clues for him, but not as much as this one did. He opened the stolen journal to do a little inspecting of his own.

"Blasted thing better be worth it." Jak laid on the bed, but kept his daggers ever ready while he read. Magicless scholars would often try to steal research from the mages cooped up in Whitethorn. Hells, sometimes free mages did it too. Whatever might put them ahead of their field. Selstad's leadership put quite a bit of value on advancement of society and you could live a very comfortable life if you invented or discovered the right thing.

"I don't understand a word of this garbage." Jak said, tossing the journal aside in frustration. "I don't like the feel of it."

He had two days before he met his client. Jak wasn't one to turn his nose up at a coin, but his gut was never wrong either.

"Two days." He rubbed the ache forming in his temples. "Gods damned book."