Realms of Magic - Brian Thomsen King [117]
Especially now. Olivia was there. She'd appeared suddenly, as though magically summoned: only then did I see the whistle drop from Filson's lips to dangle on a chain around his scrawny neck. Already he was babbling to the lady about the intruder (me) who'd tried to strangle him.
Olivia, in typical aplomb, laughed. "Filson, meet your new boss. This is Mr. Bolton Quaid." With that introduction, she gestured to me, and I might have bowed had I not been busy rubbing my head and looking into empty air to see what had hit me.
The ruddy scamp face turned as white as the walls around us, though the color looked less fetching on Filson. "Er… sorry, boss."
I waved off the apology, wishing I could find a lump on the wall at least as large as the one on my head. "Part of the job. I'm glad to know you can handle yourself in a fight."
That brought some color back to those cheeks. "Just trying to do my job."
"Speaking of which," said Olivia, her tone hardening as she turned to me, "you'd best get at least some provisional protection on the Dragon's Pearl. We've had a couple magic lapses this morning."
My brow beetled. "Magic lapses?"
"The storms play havoc with magic," volunteered Filson, clearly wanting to redeem himself. "Spells fail sometimes."
"These lapses aren't caused by any storm," Olivia said, never turning from me. She let the implications sink in before she spoke them. "One of the guests is trying to dispel the magical protections around the pearl."
Now it was my turn to go white. "I'll get on it right away."
"Once you get the pearl secured nonmagically, I want you to hunt down the cause of these… interruptions."
"What shall I do when I find the culprit?"
"Kill him."
*****
Within a few hours, the pearl was secured seven ways to Summertide. I'd locked it in three concentric boxes, chained the outer box to five different spots on the walls, set seventy-three poisoned darts into projectors along the perimeter, lined ceiling and floors with drider web, strung up three hair triggers on the threshold to the chamber, and booby-trapped the vault door so that the slightest disturbance would trigger a circular deadfall. The rock was as safe as I knew how to make it, short of hanging it around my own neck.
The whole time I worked, Filson watched and gabbed. He told me a lot I already knew about Olivia: that she was powerful and ruthless and all-knowing in the Tern. He also hinted in whispers that she used magic to look younger. That didn't surprise me, but I nervously wondered how much younger.
Most interesting of all, though, he spilled his own theory about why the lady kept a gemstone she feared to remove from its vault within a vault. He said the Dragon's Pearl magically powered the whole palace. He said the rock had absorbed Xantrithicus's power and Olivia was now drawing on it. He said the stone couldn't be magically guarded because any spells that kept intruders out would keep the magic in.
Out of the mouths of kids. The Dock Ward had taught me to listen to babbling kids and old fools. A worm too soft and juicy is a worm that hides a hook. Hmm. Where was Olivia's hook, and what fish was she trying to lure, and why? Money, certainly, but she had enough of that. More money, of course, but also… what-power, station… companionship?
No time for such thoughts. I had a would-be jewel thief to catch.
It would not be easy. I doubted Olivia wanted me to rough up her patrons, as I routinely did to the smugglers and black marketeers on the docks. No, this would take subtlety and stealth.
Filson would prove to be a problem.
"Reconnoiter? What's that mean?" he asked suspiciously. "Are you trying to brush me off?"
"Not at all," I responded, pushing him toward the crowded dining hall. "You know the patrons. Watch them. See if any of them look suspicious."