Maiden of Pain (24 page)

Their first stop was a squat building on a street corner with a sign hanging out front. Painted on it was a pile of coins sitting atop of an open book. The four walked in and found themselves in a cozy antechamber. A small fire smoldered in the hearth to the right, providing a comfortable level of heat for the room. In the center of the area was a writing stand. Through a doorway in the far wall, Ythnel could see the edge of a desk and hear the scratching of a quill on parchment.

"Just a moment. I'll be right with you," a dry voice called from around the corner in the office. The scratching stopped, and a thin, older man with wispy curls of white hair appeared. He wore a black jacket with sleeves that fell just short of his wrists over a plain linen shirt tucked into black pantaloons. When his eyes fell on the group, one thick, bushy eyebrow arched in a look that clearly questioned whether they belonged in his establishment. Ythnel realized their secondhand clothing probably made them look like beggars. The clerk opened his mouth, but Kestus spoke up before he could say anything.

"My name is Kestus Aentius. I have an account with you. I am here to make a withdrawal. As you can probably see, I and my companions need to refresh ourselves." The old man seemed to consider this for a moment before shuffling back into his office. He returned shortly, his arms wrapped lovingly around a thick, leather-bound book. He laid the book upon the writing stand and began to thumb through the first pages.

"Aentius.. Aentius.. Aentius. Ah, yes, here we are. Oh." Both eyebrows rose slightly. "Will you be making a large withdrawal today, Master Aentius? I may need some time to collect the necessary—"

"No, I just need one hundred authokhs."

The clerk breathed a sigh of relief. "Very well. If you will sign here?" The old man held a quill out for Kestus then indicated a place on the page where the mage was to sign. When he had done so, the clerk went once more to his office. He stopped before a section of the far wall and mumbled something Ythnel couldn't quite hear. The wall disappeared to reveal an iron door. The old man spoke again, and the door swung inward, a secret vault now visible beyond. He returned with two bulging coin purses and handed them to Kestus.

"Will there be anything else?" The clerk closed his ledger when Kestus shook his head. "Until your next visit, then, Master Aentius." He bowed slightly and shuffled back to his office. Kestus turned and headed out the door.

Their next errand took them to a tailor's shop a street over from the coinlender. Kestus had them all measured and ordered outfits made, despite Ythnel's protests. He then purchased clothing from the merchant's current stock to replace the ill-fitting hand-me-downs given to them aboard the Lady Splendor.

They finally came to stop before a sign that depicted a beast with the head of an eagle, the body of a lion, and wings of flame. The building was two stories high, with glass-paned windows on both levels and a black iron-hinged door that swung open silently at Kestus's touch.

"Olare, gentlefolk." Behind a waist-high counter to the right of the entrance stood a man in a green tunic and brown linen vest, his thick mustache hiding the upper half of the broad smile he offered. "Welcome to the Flaming Griffon. Interested in a room or two for the night?"

"Two adjoining rooms," Kestus replied. "We'll need a cot in one of them."

"Of course. How long will you be staying?"

"We're not sure, but this should cover us for a few days." Kestus set the remaining coins in a stack on the counter. "Have dinner sent to our rooms when it's ready please."

"Certainly," the innkeeper fawned, scooping up the coins and dropping two keys in their place. "Your rooms will be up the stairs to the left there. Will there be anything else?"

"Uh, a bath would be nice," Ythnel suggested.

"I'll have water drawn right away, milady." With a knowing smile, the innkeeper rang a bell, summoning a flurry of servants. The trio made their way past the front desk and up the short flight of stairs while orders were being given.

The rooms were comfortable; each had two single beds, a writing table, an armoire, and a window that looked out onto the street. No sooner had Ythnel flopped on her bed than there was a knock on her door. She opened it to find a maid ready to lead her to the bathing room. Her new linen dress draped over her arm, Ythnel followed the older woman down the hall. Once inside the steamy room with the door closed, Ythnel shed her old clothing and slipped into the tub.

"To the trash with these, milady?" the maid asked, holding up the dingy garment between her index finger and thumb. Ythnel nodded before sliding under the water.

After braiding her hair, Ythnel joined the men in their room for dinner. Kohtakah and Muctos sat on their beds, plates of roasted mutton and stewed vegetables resting in their laps, while Ythnel sat at the writing table, shoveling the food in as fast as she could chew and swallow. At least she hadn't drooled as the first tendrils of aroma drifted to her nose. Not that either of the mages would notice, buried as they were in their own meals. Kestus had either already eaten or was not hungry because he paced the floor with an air of impatience. Ythnel was dabbing up the last pools of juice with a thick slice of bread when there was a knock at the door. Kestus practically ran to open it.

"Master Rueldarr said you had a dispatch to send?" A young boy stood in the doorway fidgeting.

"Ah, yes. Ythnel, if you wouldn't mind handing over that envelope on the desk."

Ythnel noticed for the first time a small envelope with the name "Crarl Ormane" scrawled on the front. When she grabbed it, her fingers pressed against a hard blob of sealing wax on the back.

"See that this gets to the Jedea Academy before sunset, boy. There'll be some extra coin if I hear it was so."

The youth nodded vigorously, grabbed the envelope from Kestus, and darted down the hall.

"So, I take it the recipient of that envelope is your contact?" Muctos asked from his seat on the bed.

"Crarl Ormane is the name I was given by my contact. That's who the letter is addressed to. I don't know if it's an actual person or just some sort of password." Kestus strolled back to his cot and sat down. While he had visibly relaxed after closing the door, there was still something pensive about his mood.

"What is the Jedea Academy?" Ythnel asked.

"It is the oldest school in Mordulkin for students of the Art," said Muctos. "It was founded by Soldim Jedea, the first ruler of the city. The Jedea family has ruled Mordulkin since the rebellion that ousted Unther from Chessenta." Muctos paused, and his eyes suddenly lit up. "What if your mysterious benefactor is a member of the Jedea family?"

"Let's not get our hopes up," Kestus cautioned.

They retired to their rooms for the night. Ythnel inquired with a maid about a switch, which earned her a strange look, but one was retrieved from the inn's stables. She performed her nightly prayer ritual and slept soundly.

When Ythnel finished her prayers the next morning, Kestus was already out running some errands. He returned shortly after she finished a late morning-feast. He had with him a couple of new purses of coin and their tailor-made outfits. Ythnel asked if there had been any response to his letter, but the mage shook his head.

Lunch went by, and there was still no word. Ythnel wanted to get out and stretch her legs by walking through the city, but Kestus counseled patience. Everyone needed to be here and be ready to go should a reply come requesting an immediate meeting. Finally, as they were finishing dinner in the common room of the Flaming Griffon, a message was delivered. Kestus read through it silently while everyone else finished their meals. He set the note down on the table, pushed his chair back, and stood up.

"Let's go."

The brisk walk to the residential district, where the academy was located, took a little more than half a candle. The sun was just dipping below the skyline of the city, casting everything in shades of deep purple and golden orange. The houses that lined the streets ranged from simple, single-family dwellings to large mansions with landscaped terraces covering an entire block. As with the merchant district, all the buildings here showed similar signs of regular upkeep, and Ythnel wondered at the amount of coin it would take to maintain so much property.

The Jedea Academy grounds were even more immaculate than its neighbors'. Spring-green grass of uniform height surrounded the twstory complex and was split in the front by a white granite walkway that led from the curb to an ornate, oak door. Brilliant white stone, shining in the fading sunlight, was austere in its lack of decoration. Four square towers formed the corners of the academy, and its sloped roof was covered in tiles of twilight-gray slate.

Ythnel brought up the rear as the quartet walked single file to the door. Kestus looked at them over his shoulder then rapped his knuckles against the solid wood, producing a muffled sound that was barely audible to Ythnel.

"You're going to have to put a little more muscle into it, Kestus, if you expect anyone to hear you," she kidded. Muctos chuckled, which turned into a throat clearing when Kestus glared at him. The mage went to knock again, but the door opened and a young woman with long, straight black hair stuck her head out.

"I'm sorry, but the library is closed for the night. Please come back tomorrow."

"We're not here to look at books," Kestus interjected, pulling the note from a pouch on his robe. "We have an appointment with Crarl Ormane."

The woman's face scrunched up in a mix of puzzlement and frustration as she took the paper from Kestus. "Wait here," she said after glancing at it. The door closed, leaving the four to stand waiting out in the gathering night.

"Certainly a hospitable bunch," Ythnel said. Kestus opened his mouth, but the dark-haired woman reappeared at the door before he could say anything.

"Follow me, please."

Just inside the door was, indeed, a library. Ythnel gazed in awe at the shelves upon shelves of books that stretched across the carpeted floor. She felt insignificant, surrounded by the collected volume of knowledge, and cringed inwardly as the muffled tread of the group passing through the room disturbed the silence that hung in the air like a mantle of respect.

They came to a door and the dark-haired woman knocked once before ushering them into the small office beyond. Piles of books covered most of the floor, with paths cleared between the door, a reading chair, an overflowing bookshelf, and a desk. The desk was occupied by an older man who thumbed through a dusty tome by the light of a brightly glowing quill that rested in an inkpot set on the corner of the desk.

"Master Thilymm, these are the people here to see Crarl Ormane."

The old man looked up, seemingly aware of his visitors for the first time. He placed a marker in the book, closed it, and set it on the desk before standing and dismissing their escort with a nod. He wore a conical hat that covered any hair that might still be on his head, which made his thick, white mustache stand out even more. A jeweled medallion hung around his neck, the multifaceted sapphire reflecting the light of the enchanted quill on the desk as it rested against the silky fabric of his light blue tunic.

"Welcome, welcome. I am Ovros Thilymm, Head Librarian of the Academy."

"Where is Crarl Ormane?" Kestus asked.

"He is not here."

"What? But the note said we were to meet him."

"No, the note said to come to the academy."

Ythnel tensed. This conversation was taking an uncomfortable turn. They had no weapons, but she was sure she could take the old man out before he could call to any hidden allies.

"Don't play word games with me," Kestus fumed. "The note was signed by Crarl Ormane."

"I assure you I am not playing a game. Crarl Ormane is not here because it would be impossible for him to. He is nothing but a name."

"You were right," Muctos muttered. Kestus nodded, but frustration still showed on his face.

"Fine, so we're not going to meet Crarl. Who are we going to meet? Or was there some other reason we were invited here?"

"You can relax," Ovros said, looking right at Ythnel as though he had read her mind. He was more observant than she gave him credit for. "You are going to meet the person you came here to see. Let's go upstairs." He scooted past them and led them back out through the library to a door in the middle of the back wall. The librarian put his medallion against the wood of the door and uttered something unintelligible. A chime sounded, and the door swung open as the single, clear note faded away.

Ovros followed the hallway behind the library to the right until it came to a flight of metal stairs that led both up and down. He began to climb, the clanging of his steps echoing off the stones of hall. The four looked at each other before Kestus started up the stairs. Muctos shrugged and began his ascent, followed by Kohtakah, who navigated his crutches awkwardly. With a quick look back down the hall, Ythnel brought up the rear.

The stairs ended at a landing with another door. Again, Ovros put his medallion to the wood and spoke the command to open it. Another hallway stretched beyond, lined with doors on either side every ten feet or so. Ovros stopped before the third on their left and knocked.

"Come in," came the response in a deep, commanding voice. The door swung open at the librarian's touch, and he stood aside to let the four enter.

"I'll be here when you are finished," he said and turned to leave.

The room they were in appeared to be some sort of lounge. There were four overstuffed chairs set about the room, each with their own end table and candelabra. Thin bookshelves stood against the walls at odd intervals. Another door stood closed in the far wall.

The dominant feature of the room, however, was the imposing figure who stood in the center of it. Thick, shoulder-length gray hair framed a square face and was held back by a gem-encrusted gold band at the temples and forehead. Bushy eyebrows drooped over sparkling eyes, and a neatly trimmed beard ran along the jawline before surrounding a broad mouth. A thick cape dyed red hung over a loose silk robe of deep purple.