Realms of Magic - Brian Thomsen King [25]
After a moment I blinked. Bitter laughter escaped my lips. If this tower was a prison, I had wrought it for myself. Drawing in a resigned breath, I reached for my quill pen once more.
I halted at the magical chiming of a small bronze bell. Someone stood upon the front steps of my tower. Curious, for I had few visitors these days, I hurried from my study and descended a spiral staircase to the tower's entry chamber. Belatedly I waved a hand, dismissing the spells that bound the door-which otherwise would have given me a nasty shock-and flung open the portal.
There was no one there.
The path that led from the Street of Runes to my tower was empty in the gloaming. Oddly disappointed, I started to shut the door. I paused as something caught my eye. It was a piece of paper resting on the stone steps. I bent down to retrieve the paper. A message was written upon it in a spidery hand:
I wish to meet you. Come to the Crow's Nest at moon-rise. I believe there is much we can gain from one another.
–Zeth I gazed at the words in mild interest. It was hardly the first such invitation I had received. Usually they came from would-be apprentices, wandering mages seeking knowledge, or-on occasion-brash young wizards wishing to challenge me to a duel of magic. I studied the paper, wondering to which category this Zeth belonged. That last line was unusual. Most wanted something of me. Yet this man seemed to believe I had something to gain from him.
Intriguing as it was, I knew I should discard the invitation. Yet I was suddenly loath to return to the safe confines of my tower. I had heard of the Crow's Nest. It was a rough tavern on the riverfront, a dangerous place. Yet was I not the greatest wizard in Iriaebor? I thought with a sharp smile. What did I have to fear? Before I knew what I was doing, I grabbed my dusk-gray cloak from a hook in the entry chamber. I shut the door of my tower, rebinding the enchantments with a wave of my hand, and headed into the deepening night.
I moved quickly down the twisting Street of Runes. The numberless towers of the Old City loomed above, plunging the winding ways below into thick shadow. Soon I came to the edge of the labyrinth and, following a steep road cut into the face of the Tor, made my way down into the sprawling New City below. Here the streets were broader and more open than in the Old City, lined by bright torches.
I was just on the edge of a shabby, less savory section of the city when I was accosted by the girl.
"Would you like to buy some magic, milord?" she asked in a pert voice. A grin lit up her grimy face as she pulled something from her tattered clothes.
"So this is magic, is it?" I asked solemnly, accepting the proffered object. It was a small tube woven of straw.
The urchin nodded enthusiastically. "If someone puts his fingers in each end, he won't be able to pull them out. And the harder he pulls, the more stuck his fingers will be. That's the enchantment."
A low laugh escaped my lips. "And a powerful one it is." No doubt this girl was an orphan, and under the power of some petty thief. If she failed to sell her wares, it was likely she would be beaten. I drew out a silver coin and flipped it to the girl.
"Thank you, milord!" she cried as she snatched up the coin and vanished into the gloom. I tucked the cheap finger-trick into a pocket and, wearing a faint smile, continued on my way.
I reached the Crow's Nest just as the pale orb of Selune lifted itself above the city's sentinel towers. Moonrise. The ramshackle tavern stood on an old quay thrust out into the turgid waters of the Chionthar River. The scents of fish and garbage hung on the air. I opened the tavern's door and stepped into the murky space beyond.
A dozen eyes fell upon me, then just as quickly looked away. This was a violent place. Its clientele were murderers, pirates, and thieves.