Free Magic (complete)

Chapter 19

The royal university was a building right next to the castle. Like everything else in Raastad, it was stone, undecorated, and neatly kept. You could live a very comfortable life as a scholar in Selstad, as long as you contributed something to the knowledge of the nation that is. The Royal University's library was open for all to see, though you couldn't remove a book from it unless you were a professor. Jak decided the library would be a good starting point.

The walls were grand, white marble shelves held eons of knowledge. Despite the number of people in the grand hall it was strangely quiet. Halls that lead away from the library wound to workrooms where inventions were built, ideas were discussed, and students were taught. The hallways weren't particularly guarded, but he saw one with no people in it and decided it was a start. He grabbed a random tome from the shelves as he passed through the doorway.

Tess sent him on his way with very fine new clothes. He wore a stark white shirt with a purple tunic and clean black breaches. He looked very respectable and his presence was not questioned as he walked through the halls. He passed what appeared to be a young assistant with an armload of scrolls.

"Do you know where professor Muenkson is?" Jak asked politely.

"What? Oh yes I oh!" The young man fumbled his scrolls which ricocheted off the walls and scattered . Jak helped him gather the mess up.

"Thank you, I'm afraid I took more than I could carry. Would you mind helping me get these to my office then we can talk?" He adjusted his armload again and stood up.

"Of course." Jak grimaced. If he knew where Muenkson was Jak couldn't' afford to pass him by in the hopes he could fined someone else willing to help him. They carried the scrolls down twisting hallways and narrow stairs. Finally they stopped at the end of a dark hallway to an office filled to the brim with books and odd artifacts.

"Well!" The young man dropped his pile of scrolls on the desk. "Now, what can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for Professor Muenkson." Jak said patiently.

"Oh did I not say?" He wiped dust from his hands onto his robes and offered a hand to Jak. "I'm Jesser Muenkson, what can I do for you?"

"Professor!" Jak gladly shook his hand. "Sorry I thought you'd be..."

"Older? Yes, I suppose that's the common misconception." Jesser sat down behind his desk and gestured to an empty chair for Jak.

"Right. Professor I've come to breach a delicate subject. It's about Magnus Hughes." Jak started. "I was working with who I believed were his servants at his Cliffside home. However, they vanished after... obtaining some requested research. This happened within the last two weeks. I need to find the original writer of that research. Did you know much about his townhouse in Cliffside, or the staff who kept it?"

"How strange. Yes, my predecessor was a generous man and welcomed me on his travels. Dreadfully clever he was. We would often venture to his townhouse to work jointly with Whitethorn mages on shared research interests. I dare say it was my unfortunate responsibility to send word of his passing to the household." Jesser answered solemnly. "Why they would still be around after word arrived I'm afraid I don't know. Magnus left the property to his nephew."

"I see." Jak pulled Anders's translated notes from his shoulder bag. "Can you tell me if Hughes ever studied something like this?"

"Let's take a look." Jesser read over the papers for a few minutes and sat back in his chair. "Lore of restoring youth. Speaking through a spirit gate. Bottling the energy of life. I can't say any historian hasn't chased these things at some point in his lifetime. Magnus was heavily versed in the ancient lore surrounding the time these things were thought to be possible. Of course most of my colleagues believe it to be utter nonsense, but we thought the same of magic before it returned to man. Magnus dedicated his studies to never dismissing an idea from ancient history."

"Were there any mages in Whitethorn that worked with him or that he knew of who studied these same subjects?" Jak asked.

"Yes, there have been a few over the years. After all, it would have to be a mage that could test any theories we might come up with." Jesser walked over to a cabinet and began rifling through papers. "Ah, here we go. This is a book of Magnus's correspondence in Whitethorn. I have no need for it as I've my own acquaintances for my studies. If you'd like you are welcome to it. I hope it helps you find your scholar."

"Thank you Professor." Jak flipped through the book. "This is perfect."

Jak rose from his chair and the professor walked him out of the office. Now to get back to Whitethorn and investigate the short list of mages that worked with Hughes.

Anders strained to push his face through the narrow window at the north end of his hall. The wind from outside stung his eyes, but he kept close watch on the horizon. The moment he saw Harlow he was prepared to create a scene, anything to talk to him.

As the morning wore on his stomach growled. He didn't dare leave the window for anything but the privies. The tenth bell of the morning rang through the keep before Anders saw a sign of movement on the main road.

A small party, maybe ten people, topped the hill in front of Whitethorn. Several of them were on horseback, they all seemed to be wearing white. His eyes locked on the group, the minutes crawled by until they were close enough to make out. There, one of them on the left. He was short, about Harlow's build, and riding a horse.

Anders flew down the stairs and to the front gate. He pressed his face into the cool iron bars and watched as the party approached the square, and then to his horror turn right just before they reached it.

"Hey, what are you doing over there?" A soldier in chain yelled behind Anders.

"I need to speak to Harlow!" He yelled, telling the soldier as much as yelling at the group across the square.

"Who 's Harlow? Get back from the gate!" A hand sank onto his shoulder.

"No!" Cried out in desperation. Anders shook the hand off and reached an arm through the bars. Just as the last horse was turning out of his sight he struck the ground behind them with his power. A great crack screamed through the air as he released a bolt to the sky before multiple pairs of hands grabbed him and slammed him backwards onto the flagstone.