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The faerie fire dashed up into the ceiling and hid in between the rafters. This was one of the few rooms out here that actually had ceilings. There was no escaping the mage however and he motioned the faerie towards the door and it flew out it in a flash of light.

Alone in the darkness with only his cigar for light, Draque looked at the half-elf Szymon. "I see you're feeling better. Have you a knack for distracting my construct?"

"Construct?" the boy said, his voice puzzled.

"Yes, a construct. Sort of like a golem or a gargoyle. A creature that is animated magically."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought it was a pet."

"More than anything else the little brat is part of me. He has all my skills but a completely different personality. He has intelligence but is more child than anything else because he's only about twelve years old."

"So, he's the only one?"

"Of his kind? No. I've sold the spell that makes fire faeries and now they're becoming quite populat amongst the older mages who lack the patience for stupid golems and even dumber apprentises."

There was a moment of silence while Szymon absorbed this information. "I should let you get back to your work."

Draque looked about the dark empty room. "Can you walk? I could use someone to talk to and you sound like you'd be good at listening. Provided you keep your hands to yourself."

"What? Watch you?"

"Why, do you want learn some magic too while I'm in a good mood?"

Stupid question, the mage thought to himself as the boy led the way down towards the docks. What street rat wouldn't jump at the opportunity to learn some magic? The problem was finding a place with enough residual magic to begin even the most basics. Draque's answer: A rather burnt out warehouse near the waterfront.

When they arrived at the ruins, Draque was happy to stand watch while the boy took his time picking the lock at the door. It took a bit longer than the mage had expected but then again he was used to dealing with experts of the artform and not amateurs. Still, the boy had the lock open in less than a minute which would have been quite satisfactory in most situations.

Stopping in the doorway, Draque waited for the fire faerie to provide suitable enough light before proceeding into the darkness. The light coming through the gaping hole in the ceiling only illuminated the charcoal ruins of what had been a complete workshop and a long husk of a ship. "You can see that there was a very large explosion in the area-"

"Fireball?"

"Similar to one but for our purposes it will do. All we're going to do is use the magic left over in the air to attune your senses so you can learn how to detect magic."

"How?"

"A very good question! Half of magic is the mystery of it all however and if I were to spill the beans and just tell you, then magic wouldn't be quite the same would it now?"

"Um, no. It will still be magic."

"You learn quickly. Now, lets get started."

Nicole paced across her parlour and back again, her hands fidgetting with her horse whip. It had been quite some time since she had seen Pierce. Of course, the last time she had also ended up with the hangover of hangovers, but she blamed herself for having the Screech Soaked Cod.

Tonight was a banquet night and she simply didn't feel like hobnobbing with old dowagers on an evening such as this. The trick was finding a suitable excuse to visit Pierce even though he undoubtably had troubles of his own.

A polite knock at the parlour door disrupted her thoughts and she turned to face a stableboy. The lad grinned sheeppishly and combed his hair between his fingers. "Mister Jark would like to talk to you-"

"Tell him I'm in no mood to talk at the moment."

The boy swallowed and decided it might be best to disobey. "He says that if you can't control your new horse-"

"New horse?"

"Yes, the huge black one with the bad temper."

Bartholomew hated stalls more than he hated being ridden and as such was more than happy to let Nicole ride him so long as he was