The Scofflaw Magician (The Artifactor Book 3) (16 page)

Of course Forus
didn’t tell her right there on the spot. He led her out of the storeroom,
setting the shield back in place, and then called the lizards to him. Both
komodo dragons settled their chins into his hands for a good scratch and rub,
which he did with an indulgent smile on his face. It was clear he was setting
them back at guard while also giving them praise for doing their jobs. It reminded
her eerily of how she interacted with Big, Baby, and Grydon.

With that set,
he took her off to another side of the woods and into a different building
entirely. This one didn’t have a shield around it, but it did have another pair
of komodo dragons, these even larger than the other set. Or maybe it seemed
that way to her. Was that all the Fae used in this region of the world? Giant
lizards as guard dogs?

Forus greeted
these comfortably, with more scratches being exchanged, and then led his guests
into the building. This one wasn’t as large as the other, or organized in the
same way. Instead, the shelves were all along the wall with two stone tables in
the center of the room. The tables were so naturally there it was like they
were grown from the bedrock. Even the smell was different—a musty sort of
scent, which she associated with being in caves. He motioned for her to stay at
the table, and then he went to different shelves, gathering up vials in the
crook of his elbow before coming back and depositing them in front of her.

“There are two
elements missing,” he informed her as he sat each bottle down with a soft
clink
.
“We mix a drop of our own blood into it and fresh spring water.”

Sevana’s eyes
nearly crossed. “You put your own blood into the ink?” No wonder it had such
innate power! “Ah, you do realize that I’ll need a sample? A prick of your
finger will do.”

Without a word,
Aran withdrew a short dagger from the sheath at his waist and pricked his
thumb.

Swearing, she
scrambled for an empty vial in her bag. “You idiot, give me some warning!
There’s no need for you to bleed all over the floor.”

“We heal
quickly,” Aran drawled, not the least bit concerned but somewhat amused at her
panicked reaction.

Pressing the
mouth of a vial against his thumb, she caught several drops and stoppered it.
“Then heal. I’m good with this amount.”

Mouth quirked,
he nodded. She noticed that the skin was already closing. What, did they heal
by sheer willpower?

Putting aside
that disturbing thought, she focused instead on the blood. According to her box
lens, it held a seven power rating. Well, it was nearly an eight. She’d
expected it to be somewhere around a seven, though, considering what the Fae
were. Digging her journal back out, she recorded that information, asking as
she did so, “What is the proper way to store Fae blood? Do I need to keep it
cold? Does it react well to stasis spells?”

“The blood will
be fine and unsoiled unless it is mixed in with something else. This stasis
spell you speak of, it is a way for humans to preserve something?” Forus waited
for her nod before saying, “I have no knowledge of a human trying this on Fae
blood. While I am unsure what it will do, my guess would be, not much.”

“Then it’s fine
in this vial?”

“It is.”

Well that made transporting
and storing it easier on her. Although she planned to be very careful with it.
Heaven knew what an evil man could do with Fae blood. “Then let me see what
else we have here.” Setting the vial down, she picked up another and examined
it. “Pine tree resin, it looks like, from a thousand year old tree?”

Forus gave her
a small smile, like an uncle would a young niece. “Indeed.”

“That has a
four, no surprise. And this is—” she picked up the vial and unstopped it,
taking a look inside. Sevana didn’t even need her box lens to know what this
was. “Dragon’s ash. How old is it?”

Forus now
looked semi-impressed. “You know at a glance?”

“Not the first
time I’ve handled it,” she explained.

“Ah, I see. It
is three months old. Anything older and we use it for smaller, less important
items.”

Three months or
younger would mean it still had its full potency. So it would have a five
rating. The spring water of course would have an eight, especially in Fae
territory. The Fae blood had a seven. Any dyes they used should have a one or
two. Sevana picked up three of the vials that held dyes in them, examining
each. Blue, red, yellow, all from natural sources. So yes, they would have a
one. She picked up the last vial and held it up, then almost dropped it as the
smell came to her. It smelled like the sea, and tar, and this undefinable
near-stench that she had only ever encountered with one creature.

“You have
kraken ink?!”

“It is somewhat
difficult to attain,” Forus admitted. He seemed pleased she could recognize
that too at a glance. “But our brethren on the southern shores will barter with
us and we often get vials from them.”

Sevana found
that woefully unfair. “Do you think they’ll trade with me too?” She hadn’t
meant for that question to come out wistfully.

Aran choked on
a laugh, lifting a fist to try to disguise his smile. “I’m sure they will.
Sellion.”

Oh, right, she
was now an adopted member of the Fae. So she could do things like trade with
them. Sevana beamed at the thought. Oh, the things she could
make
with
the right ingredients.

“Focus,” Aran
advised, still trying not to laugh. “Daydream later.”

Screwing up her
mouth in a sideways frown, she put the vial of kraken ink back down. “At any
rate, this has a seven as well. Forus, that is all of the ingredients?”

“It is. Do you
need a vial of the water?”

“I will before
I leave,” she admitted. “But not right at this moment. So, added up all
together…” Leaning over the table, she flipped to a clean page in the journal
and started doing some very complicated mathematics. Not wanting to make a
stupid mistake, she went back over it twice before she was satisfied. “Each
piece individually, when added, is thirty-two. But of course we’ll lose most of
that power because of the way each element chemically reacts to the others. I’m
assuming something about the way you mix and process the ink stabilizes the
elements into a more cohesive form?”

“It does.”

“Which is how
the final, usable version of the ink is a seven in power rating.” Sevana rubbed
at her chin, staring hard at the numbers. “This is scary. The way he crafted
his spell, it was as if he knew exactly what the elements were in the ink and
how to best take advantage of them.”

“But how could
he know?”

“That is a very
good question.” Sevana didn’t look up from the pages, staring blankly downward
for several more seconds. She had a feeling just knowing the elements that made
up the ink wasn’t enough. It was nothing more than gut instinct—she didn’t have
anything to back it up with—but she had this notion that she’d need to know
exactly how the ink was made. The ink, after all, was the lynch pin to this
whole thing. Making a snap decision, she looked up.

“Forus, might I
impose on you a while longer? I want to do some experiments here, so that if I
have more questions, you’re at hand to answer them.”

“That is fine,”
he assured her. Not quite off-handedly he added, “You will let us watch? We
wish to understand more of human magic.”

“I think that
would be wise, actually. The more you understand, the more you can human-proof
your storerooms.”

He gave her a
smile that would not be out of place on a cat’s face. “Exactly so. You will
need a place to work?”

“A quiet,
uncluttered place would be ideal.” She’d do her best to not make things explode
while testing. None of these ingredients were particularly volatile, so the
odds were slim, but sometimes the unexpected happen. They were called accidents
for a reason.

Aran helped her
pick up the ingredients, as her bag was stuffed full at this point. Sevana, in
her rush to get out the door, hadn’t the time to unearth one of her
never-ending bags. It was something she was kicking herself about now.

They left the
building, Forus petted his komodo dragons, and then he led them away from the
center of the village or town or whatever the Fae called it. As he took them
onto yet another unfamiliar path, he slowed so that he was more in step with
her. “Several times, I have seen you use a device that you lift to your eye.”

The question
was unspoken but clear in his tone. Sevana had done nothing but ask questions
for the past hour and he had been forthright about the answers. It behooved her
to do the same. “My box lens. I haven’t thought of a better name for it yet.
It’s a new invention of mine. I seem to be doing a lot of curse breaking, and
the usual way of doing an investigation is to use my diagnostic wand. But
that’s cumbersome, it requires both hands and clean paper to write on, which I
don’t always have. So I created the lens.” Seeing she still had his interest,
she broke it down even further. “The two smaller lenses at the bottom act as a diagnostic
wand and analyze everything, but the information it finds is displayed on the
larger lens that’s near my eye. I can read the information that way.”

“Like you did
earlier. I see.” Forus seemed pleased to have some of his curiosity satisfied.

Aran, at her
other side, couldn’t help but join in. “You speak much of power levels. There
is more mathematics involved in human magic than I imagined.”

Sevana couldn’t
help but laugh softly at this. “Oh, even humans have no idea how much math is
involved. By the time an Artifactor has completely developed a product, all
they have to do is flip a switch or speak a command and it works. They know
nothing of the mechanics of it. Even most magicians couldn’t tell you. But
there’s quite a bit of mathematics and science involved, more than people would
guess. That’s why Artifactors are rare—try finding someone that has the head
for mathematics, science, mythology, languages, and craftsmanship that just so
happens to have some magical talent.”

 There was a
strange, unreadable expression on Aran’s face as he looked at her. “And yet you
are a prodigy in your field.”

Sevana tried
not to smirk too broadly. “I am.” She’d let them draw their own conclusions.

“Is that why
the human kings come to you for help?”

That was an
understandable assumption to jump to, considering what she had been doing the
past year and a half, but— “No, actually, I haven’t been asked for help even
once by the kings. I seem to just fall into the situation. With Bel, I went and
kidnapped him.”

Both Fae made
the same sound of choked surprise, which amused her.

“I’m not
exaggerating,” she assured them. “I really did break into the palace and kidnap
him. Granted, he was willing to be kidnapped. And then we snuck in again and
kidnapped his father, because he was also a prisoner under a curse, and while
they rewarded me nicely for it afterwards, neither of them asked for my help in
the beginning. This latest situation with Sa Kao was another time I chanced
into it because they were making a mess in my backyard, but it wasn’t until I
showed up and volunteered that Princess Farah requested my help.”

Aran’s face
screwed up in a confused frown. “But why would they not to think to go to you?”

“My guess? Because
I’m new. I’m well known among the other Artifactors and various magicians, but
not the general population. Not yet, anyway. I’ve only been in business…hmm,
four years I think. It takes time for the word to spread. Most people still
call on my master first, as he’s been in the business for decades now and is
known to be good.”

“Who is your
master?” Forus asked.

“Tashjian
Joles.”

Forus blinked,
looking at her as if he was sure she was pulling his leg.

That reaction
made her ask slowly, “You know him?”

“Indeed I do.”
A reminiscent smile came over Forus’s face. “This was many years ago, when he
was still a young man, but a rogue magician had blundered into our territory.
He came to us and politely asked for an escort through so he could catch the
man and haul him back. We were cautious at first—such a story has been given to
us before, usually as a ploy so that one partner can try to rob us while the
other leads us on a merry chase. But he proved to be truthful. He did exactly
as he said he would, then gave us a fine present as thanks for our help before
he left again. We remember him as an honest man.”

Now why hadn’t
Master mentioned this little story to her? It would have been nice to know.
Maybe he thought the Fae wouldn’t remember the incident? No, surely not. The
Fae had memories that would put an elephant to shame.

“So you are his
student.” Forus gave a sage nod. “Now is much explained.”

Sevana decided
to take that as a compliment.