Azure bonds - Kate Novak [15]
Alias spied Winefiddle's letter of introduction lying on the table beside the sage with its seal still intact. "What method do you use, wire under the wax, or do you just hold the letter up to a strong light?"
"You wound my fragile ego, lady. I swear to you I have not yet opened the good curate's letter. I prefer to start afresh. That way nothing can prejudice my reasoning."
Alias shrugged, willing to take the sage at his word-for now, at least.
Dimswart resumed. "You sit at ease, but you keep your right arm beneath a cloak. Hmmmm."
Alias waited for him to give up guessing and let her explain, but after a theatrical beat the man snapped his fingers, saying quickly, "You have a tattoo, or a series of tattoos, that resists all normal magical attempts to cure. They are on your right arm and… they are blue, aren't they?"
Alias's brow knit in a puzzled furrow. Winefiddle had shown her the letter before he'd sealed it. There was nothing in it about the color of the tattoo. 'How do you know that?" she asked with astonishment-certain he had some sort of trick, but completely unable to guess what it was.
"Good artists never reveal their secrets." Dimswart winked. "But maybe, if we hit it off, I'll let you in on this little one. Now, how about giving me a look at that arm."
Alias, feeling like a much chewed bit of marrowbone, held out her arm in the firelight. The room was warm, and drops of perspiration beaded the skin over the symbols.
"Hmmm," was all Dimswart said for several moments, and he said it several times. He reached for a magnifying glassware and studied the symbols on her arm even more closely. Dragonbait positioned himself behind Alias's chair and tried to see what the sage did. Dimswart raised his head so the lizard could peer once through the glass, watching bemused as Dragonbait pulled back, apparently astonished at the sight of human flesh in such detail.
"A nice piece of work, that," said Dimswart, snapping his magnifier into its case and leaning back in his chair. "The sigils aren't composed of mere pinprick punctures in the flesh like an ordinary tattoo. Each one is made up of tiny runes and patterns packed close together. They appear to have great depth as well, and yet-" the sage kneaded her forearm gently, like a surgeon feeling for a broken bone "- there doesn't seem to be any substance to them. They look as though they are buried beneath your skin. Your flesh above must be invisible, or we could not see the symbols. They also seem to move. All in all, a most fascinating series of illusions. Very artistic. And positively unique. I'd stake my reputation on it. Do they hurt?"
"Not now, no. The tattoo ached some when detect magic spells were cast on it though, and it burned like the Nine Hells when Winefiddle cast a remove curse on it."
"How about when magic is cast on you in general? Like a curative spell?"
Alias thought of the assassin's magic missiles from the previous evening. Fat lot of good the signs did for her then Why hadn't it flashed into the eyes of her assailants when she really needed it to? "No effect, as far as I know." She shrugged. "I'm really not in the mood to experiment on which spells do what," she added.
"I don't doubt you're not," Dimswart replied sympathetically. "Who have you crossed recently? Any dark lords from deep within the pits of the Nine Hells? Steal any unholy artifacts? Break the hearts of any cavaliers whose older siblings dabble in the dark arts? No?"
Dimswart sat back and pulled a pipe from inside his vest and began stuffing it with tobacco. He leaned toward the fire for a brand, but Dragonbait beat him to it, holding a flaming twig up to the pipe bowl as the sage puffed on the mouthpiece. The sage might have been waited on all his life by scaly servants, his reaction to the lizard was so casual.
"You have him well trained," Dimswart noted. "Where did you get him?"
"We met at the seaside," Alias answered.
Dimswart lapsed into a thoughtful