A Mage Of None Magic (Book 1) (7 page)

9

Niel followed Arwin through the crowd in the direction Jharal had gone. They entered a small, dim sitting area where a half- dozen tables skirted the walls and whose occupants murmured in ominous tones that prompted Niel to keep his eyes forward. He and Arwin made their way to the back of the Inn, where they climbed a grand flight of stairs spiraling up to the floor above.

Exquisite woodwork ran the length of the banister—mahogany, it looked like—with an ocean scene of long, tumbling waves spilling forth to reveal dolphins and mermaids. With his fingers Niel traced the carved ocean all the way to the top of the stairs, and wished he knew what the house had looked like in its full splendor.

Halfway down a long corridor the two stopped in front of a door on which four small gold circles had been painted. Arwin fished a finger-length key from inside his vest and unlocked the door with a heavy clunk. A string of tiny metal rods jangled just above their heads as he pushed open the door.

“Just me,” Arwin called into the seemingly empty room, then motioned with his head for Niel to accompany him.

The room, like the hallway, surprised Niel with its size—three beds and a fireplace whose mantle continued the ocean motif from the banister. An overbearing crimson slathered the walls, on which had been tacked a few badly framed paintings. Lit lanterns hung from chains beside each of the three beds. Another burned on the round table near the door, casting weak light onto scattered scraps of paper, a charcoal pencil, and a stout wooden bowl holding several shiny pieces of fruit. A pair of glass-paneled doors at the back of the room, framed by curtains a shade darker than the walls, led to a small balcony. On the adjacent wall, behind another door that stood cracked open, was obviously the water closet—a candle flickered within, and Niel heard the soft trickling sounds of someone using a wash basin.

Arwin closed the apartment door and gestured toward the table, inviting Niel to sit. He pulled out one of the chairs and did so, disconcerted by how much it wobbled at the joints.

Arwin took a chair of his own, grabbed a pear from the bowl and considered it before asking loudly, “Peck go out?”

“Yup,” came a woman’s voice. “Jhar was here an hour ago or so, complaining about no one being able to fix his axe.”

Niel rolled his eyes.
He carries a battle axe. Perfect.

Arwin bit into the fruit. “Yeah, we bumped into Jhar downstairs.”

“We?”

From the washroom appeared a brown-haired woman dressed in a long cotton tunic, hair bound away from her face, long sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Dark green eyes shone beneath full brows and above a stern, slender nose. She dabbed her neck and chin with a hand towel.

“Who’s this?” she asked with a tilt of her head.

Arwin swallowed his bite. “This is Niel. Niel, Caleen.”

When Niel stood, Caleen took a half-step back.

“Pleased to meet you,” he said.

She gave a curt nod. “What is it you do, Niel?” Her voice was deep but not at all masculine, with an airy rasp and just a trace of accent.

Niel took his seat again. “Well, as of late, I get saved by Arwin a lot.”

Caleen allowed a smirk. She turned and sat on the corner of the nearest bed, facing them. The neck of her tunic opened as she rolled down her sleeves, giving Niel a glimpse of a massive, puffy scar jaggedly tracing the contour of her collarbone then disappearing into her modest cleavage.

“No,” Caleen said, “I meant by way of—”

She threw Arwin an incredulous look. “Tell me he’s
not
.”

Arwin grinned. “He is.”

Caleen dropped her head into her hands and groaned, her voice muffled by her sleeves. “I knew this would happen.”

Niel’s cheeks grew hot. He glanced uneasily at Arwin, who gestured all was well.

“Knew what would happen?” the swordsman asked.

Caleen clapped her hands to her thighs. “He’s a
schoolboy
.”

“Actually, he’s not.”

She looked at Niel. “How old are you?”

He shrugged. “Nineteen or so.”

She glared at Arwin. “A schoolboy.”

“Now wait,” Arwin said as he stood and walked over to the fireplace. “How old were you when you left home?”

“Not the same, and you know it.”

Arwin folded his arms. “He’s not that much younger than either of us.”

“If he were any greener, he’d sprout leaves.” she said. “He’s obviously never done a hard day’s ride, never been in—”

Caleen turned to Niel. “No offense, Magician, or Apprentice, or whatever you are, but anyone your age and in your line of work should be at the College. You’re not, and that’s unusual. I don’t trust unusual. Pretty safe bet that’s what the others will say.”

The door opened, and Jharal lumbered in. On seeing Niel he snorted and shook his head. A lean, smaller man entered close behind, dressed in a tight-fitting black tunic and tan breeches with black cloth boots. He wore a mustache and goatee a few shades darker than his short brown hair.

“Say about what?” the man asked.

Jharal went to the back of the room, unfastened his knife belt and shrugged out of his vest, then dropped them both to the floor before dropping himself onto his bed. “That’s who I was telling you about.”

The man glanced at Arwin, then at Caleen, then at Niel. “So let me guess: Cally hates the idea of you coming along for sundry reasons, all of which Arwin has been, or was about to be, refuting with his usual charisma and charm?”

He gave Niel a wink. Niel smiled despite the discomfort of the goings-on.

“Shut up, Peck,” Caleen said.

Peck waved his hand in the air. “Oh, by all means continue. Always up for a good floor show.” He seated himself at the table, produced a tiny throwing knife from someplace Niel hadn’t quite seen, then spun it like a top point-down in the center of his palm.

Arwin leaned against the mantle. “All I’m saying is that inexperienced or not, we need him.”

“No, what we needed was a magician who would be of use to us,” Called said. “That’s what you promised. That’s what you said would be ‘no trouble to find,’ to use your exact words. You know good and well what’s ahead. You also know good and well that a novice magician is little help in a fight.”

“So we’ll be that much more careful,” Arwin said. “Honestly, I’m more concerned about moving around inside the ruins than I am about highwaymen on the way there.”

“I’m
talking
about the ruins, Arwin,” she hissed. “You think the savages are going to offer to watch our horses while we stomp around their territory?”

She stopped, collected herself, then continued more quietly, her face grim. “Look, Arwin, no one doubts your ability to clever your way out of anything that might come up. But do you ever wonder how much up to now has been dumb luck? How long do you think that luck’s going to hold up when you keep throwing caution to the wind like this? I don’t like it, and I don’t think we should go ahead with it until—”

Arwin pushed himself away from the fireplace. “Until what? Until some destitute master conjurer happens along looking for a jolly group like us to spend his days with? Sorry, Cally, but you’re liable to be disappointed.”

“What she means,” Jharal said, “is if it was anywhere up in the Lands we were hitting, it’d be different. But it’s not, and it’s a lot to ask to trust a boy with no experience on the road.” He narrowed his eyes at Niel. “He can’t even keep hold a cuppa wine. Not too sure I want to bet my hide on how good he is with a spell.”

As Arwin opened his mouth to respond, Niel spoke. “Excuse me…”

All eyes turned toward him, which made him suddenly aware how sweaty his feet felt inside his boots.

“Obviously, it’s true,” he said. “None of you know me. And I’ll grant that trust is something earned, not given. But I came here to save far more than I care to think about, and turning away now would throw away what little chance I have of getting back to where I belong. In other words, I’ve no choice in the matter.

“Incompetence is not always companion to inexperience,” he continued, cutting his eyes to Caleen then away again. “And yes, my skills are limited. But everything begins somewhere.” He looked down at his hands as he folded them on the table. “The way I see it, Arwin extended an invitation to me, personally. He never mentioned anyone else having to agree. So, I intend to travel with him. You may all, of course, do as you wish. But right now this, quite frankly, is all I have.”

The group sat in silence, with the exception of Peck letting the hilt of his knife slap firmly into his hand.

Caleen scoffed. “This is not personal, Apprentice. This has nothing to do with you or where you come from or how well you can speak your piece.” She jutted a thumb at the balcony. “This has to do with the fact that in a couple of days we’ll be out there risking a whole lot more than
I
care to think about. Which means—”

“Which means,” Niel interrupted, “you’re on a timetable set by Lord Deralden. And running behind, if I recall. Which means you have no other prospects for a magician, and you can’t afford to look around any more, provided you wish to retain his commission. Which means you need to decide which is better, a magician who can possibly be of service or no magician to help no matter how desperate things become.”

Arwin raised a knowing eyebrow toward Jharal. Jharal licked his lips with uncertainty and looked at Caleen. Caleen glared at Niel, then turned toward the wall, muttering to herself. Peck chuckled, and with a flick of his wrist he buried his throwing knife into a ceiling beam.

***

The night chill made the hair on Niel’s arms stand on end. He unrolled his sleeves and hugged himself as he walked, matching Arwin’s slow stride. The Inn’s parlor had closed, and most of the patrons had retired to their rooms or staggered across town seeking entertainment elsewhere. A handful remained outside, conspiring in low tones as they passed bottles amongst themselves.

“You spoke well for yourself in there,” Arwin said.

Niel shrugged. “I don’t like being a topic of debate when I’m not around, and I like it even less when I’m sitting in the same room.”

Arwin hadn’t looked up, but Niel sensed his smile. “So, what do you think of your new traveling companions?”

Niel thought. “To be honest—”

“
Always
be honest. Something you need to learn quickly is that if you have a thought, if you have an opinion, if something is troubling you even though you don’t know what it is—say something. There are times when a gut feeling can mean the difference between living and dying.”

The sudden earnestness unsettled Niel. “Well, to answer your question, they weren’t what I expected.”

“And how’s that?”

“They all seem so intelligent.”

Arwin stopped and leveled a caustic expression at Niel, who realized only then what he’d said. He was relieved when Arwin smiled a moment later, but when the swordsman pointed up toward the apartment balcony Niel flinched from fear of being hit again.

“Like it or not,” Arwin said, “your life may soon come to depend on the people in that room. It would be in your best interest, and theirs, to see them beyond whatever clichés you may have learned. Beyond merely adventurer, or warrior, or even thief.” His tone darkened a shade further. “Never take anything at face value, Niel. Question everything.”

Niel lowered his arms. “You sound like my teacher.”

“Then I’ll consider myself in good company.”

“You didn’t take me at face value when you proposed this little escapade?”

Arwin quirked his mouth. “You didn’t see the knife I had under my pillow.”

“Knife?”

“I figured you were an apprentice magician, yes, but I didn’t know what you were capable of. I wanted to make sure I could get to you before you spouted off something that reduced me to a dark stain on the cot.” Arwin patted him on the shoulder. “Didn’t sleep a wink that night, you’re so scary.”

Niel shook his head.

“As long as we’re on the subject, Apprentice, it’s high time I knew precisely what it is you
can
do.”

“Magically, you mean.”

“Quite.”

“I know a couple of cantrips,” Niel said. “Ones I came up with myself when I wasn’t too busy.”

“Such as?”

“The best is one I’ve had ever since I can remember. It lets me make things bounce. Anything. You name it. If it’s not too heavy I can make it bounce.”

Arwin looked intrigued. “Care to demonstrate?”

With his foot Niel pushed some small rocks, each about half the size of his fist, into a rough line. After a few quick syllables and gestures, the rocks shivered. Shivers became hiccups, hiccups became small hops, and then one at a time the rocks leaped up about the height of Niel’s knee. As it dropped again, each stone bounced like a soft rubber ball, and each successive bounce grew higher than the last until the rocks reached chest level.

Arwin watched with amused interest. Niel spoke another set of syllables and the rocks increased their speed until they became a blur. Their collective motion filled the air with a purring sound.