“You’ll never make it out of here,” the man choked.
“Makes three of us,” Tauri said.
“Oh, dear, was that a pronoun?” Iskondra said. “I could be gravely mistaken, but I do believe you’ve made him angry. Now, it may in fact be true that we would not make it out of here alive if he were to end your life, but the question is, would that in fact represent a net change to our ultimate disposition? Or would it merely give him a small measure of personal satisfaction before the inevitable conclusion of our captivity?”
“Is question,” Tauri said.
“Oh, now you’re just overcompensating for the pronoun.”
“I didn’t… I didn’t have you brought back here alive just to kill you!” the wizard sputtered.
“‘Just’?” Tauri repeated.
“A poor choice of word!” the wizard said. “The bookbinder had… had some interesting things to say. About a book.”
“Imagine most things bookbinder would say, interesting or not, about books.”
“About one book, that she had,” the wizard said. “An old book.”
“What? The man was clearly hysterical, anybody could see that,” Iskondra said.
“You weren’t even there,” the man said.
“Well, the fact that I could see it all the same is merely a testament to just how very clear it was,” Iskondra said.
“Iskondra said book key to great treasure,” Tauri said. “Not just talk?”
“It was!” Iskondra said. “Nothing more than idle chatter, really… I would have said anything to save my own life.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” the mage said, recovering a bit of his composure despite the feet gripping his throat. “I think you meant exactly what you said. And what’s more…”
The door opened again. Iskondra turned her head to see another set of blue robes… this figure was content to stand right in front of the door, but with her chair tipped forward she had an even worse view of the newcomer than she’d had of the first mage.
“Artimaeus, really,” the second wizard said, in a voice full of condescension. “I only asked you to do a little initial questioning. Was that too much?”
The bound chairs flexed forward—relative to Iskondra— and then fell heavily back into position, as Tauri kicked the first mage away.
“Not important enough to kill,” he said.
“An apt perception,” the newcomer said. Iskondra could now see him slightly better. He looked fairly broad-chested, though it was hard to tell as his robes had ornate ruffles and high padded shoulders. His head had a decidedly feline cast, with tawny fur and black stripes, including a repeating v pattern down the middle of his forehead. “I would welcome you to the tower of the Montport Mages’ Guild, but then you might feel like guests.”
“I think you have done enough to allay any such misapprehension,” Iskondra said. “What is it exactly that you want from us?”
“What does any man want, especially one who has bent his life towards magic?” the man replied. “Great riches, great power… long life, preferably, but certainly great riches and great power, for however long it lasts. And you… Iskondra Devalion and Tauri Quick-Claw… you two are going to help me acquire these things.”
Discuss this story on the Livejournal feed.
Ongoing support is especially appreciated.
Note: I'm trying out a new comment system. It's new and subject to jiggerypokery. It's moderated. Detailed guidelines to come but follow the general rule: be excellent to each other.
If you enjoy reading, please consider a financial contribution.
« « 66: Policy Revision 68: Bonds of Fate » »