The Spell Crafter

Chapter Twelve - The Returned

Kanick emerged from the Keep in good spirits and more reassured than upon leaving the Enclave. The Governor's sincerity at wanting to help in the investigation had surprised him, but he had no reason to believe it false.

Bera was much less convinced. "Again, we leave with nothing," he declared.

"Not at all," Kanick replied softly as they made their way down the main street. "He has promised to deliver us the boy who discovered the cave. And this miller and his wife."

"What can they tell us that we don't already know?"

"Well, I don't know," Kanick admitted. "Which is why we must speak with them first." He looked in the direction of the sun, high overhead. "I make it a little past noon, we will look for the miller in the evening, after the day's labour." They turned towards the Black Crown. "For now, I wish to bathe and change out of these robes."

Kanick ordered a bath to be filled in his room. Unfortunately, he had no change of clothes, and so arranged for those to be washed also. Lem came to fill his bath, and take his robes, promising they would be returned before evening meal.

As he sank into the tub, Kanick felt the concerns of the day begin to untie themselves from his joints. He leaned back against the tub's hot iron surface as he reflected on the case before them. The town and Enclave were mutually distrustful, though Regius was mostly, personally respected, if not actually liked. Their only leads were a boy who happened upon the cave and Regius's last patient. Apart from the Innkeep's claims of demonic destruction there were no suspects and not much evidence of foul play.

The Sons of the Prince seemed unlikely, since there had been no sightings of them this far north. A townsman, or posse of townsmen, was also unlikely though Kanick reasoned that anyone could start a fire and so couldn't dismiss the notion as readily as had deLan. A member of the Order, perhaps? Kanick couldn't believe that, for the simple reason that Regius lived in hermitage, away from the other mages. Perhaps Edian's accusation of a fallen candle was correct?

He gave up thinking directly at his investigation. Instead he soaked and let his mind wander where it willed. He found himself wondering how Bera's studies were progressing. The boy was sharp, and skilled with both blade and magic, but his personality retained an edge that Kanick feared might get him into trouble. At the very least it would inhibit his chances at promotion through the Order.

By rights it should be one of you sitting here, the Arch-Mages words echoed in his head. It seemed that Regius had become an extremely proficient healer, these past years and surely had the ability to rise to the top of whichever discipline he had chosen. But then, so many lives had been knocked off course by Palregon's rise, Kanick reflected, thinking of High-Mage Kofan, who had been vocally against rules limiting the political power of mages and had been in a strong position to become Arch-Mage until Palregon came along and made those opinions untenable. Or the mages of the Northern Temple, with torn loyalties and now languishing censured from high office – the lucky ones, anyway.

His own ambitions to command the Battlemages as Champion of one of the temples had also been thwarted. After the death and fire, he found his taste for Battlemagic had died with everything else. For the flash of a moment he glimpsed a flap of fiery wings and, shuddering, forced himself from the bath as he forced those thoughts from his mind.

Kanick dried himself and began looking through his selection of books, though Bera had most of them, including Agents of Chaos now that he was feeling well enough to read it. He settled on Creatures of Power, in the very faint hope that there was something in the book that might explain Regius's death.