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I WAS SO STUNNED THAT I wasn’t paying attention as we neared the Jadefire House of Marvels.
Remember. Watch and wait.
Oh, I was watching alright. I watched as we found a backdoor on the lower level and Apeq whispered something to a ‘servant’ who was leaning casually against the wall beside the door. The servant was twice as wide as I was and taller, too. I watched as Apeq whispered something to Zyla and she laughed. What made a laugh sound like music? Could I make music that sounded as good as that laugh? That would be a neat trick.
Focus.
I was watching when Apeq ran a considering glance over me before motioning me and his servant to lift Bataar and follow him inside.
Oh, I was watching, alright. I was watching everything.
The Jadefire House of Marvels was even bigger on the inside than it seemed to be on the outside. The entire place was built around a central spiral staircase with so many ledges and nooks and small rooms that you could spend all day looking for something you had lost. Upon entry, I finally realized what the place was.
Apeq was a dealer in curios.
He seemed to have no guiding principle in what he chose to sell.
There were odd looking masks of metal or wood, statues ranging from the size of my smallest finger to one at the center of the spiral staircase that rose almost to the top of the second level, mirrors and instruments and rods of various lengths, rings of metal, rings of stone, rings of wood, displayed on shelves or in cases or hanging on walls, things that looked like weapons but glowed strangely. And that was just a list of things I could put a name to.
There were devices or ornaments or weapons there that I found impossible to name or even properly describe. All of them called to me, as if my curiosity was lit aflame simply be being near them. I felt a warmth in my chest as I entered the room that never really left.
I reached toward the first statue in reach and Apeq slapped my hand away from it. “No touching the merchandise! What am I supposed to do? Sell it with fingerprints on it?”
I turned my attention back to Bataar. It was odd that there were no customers or staff in sight, just wall upon wall of interesting things.
My eyes were huge from the moment we walked in the door to the moment we reached a back room and Apeq directed us to lay Bataar down.
“I’m afraid I couldn’t move all the overstock out,” he said, feigning sheepishness at the splendor that spilled over into even a backroom with a cot. Even the bed frame around Bataar’s cot seemed to be valuable. The tangled metal that formed the four-post bed twisted in ways that boggled the mind. “But I did find a healer.”
I froze, bracing myself for one of the oak-leafed goons I’d met before. My hand hovered near the axe. I was still rattled by the inspection outside and now this unexpected place was giving me the jitters.
Whatever is happening there, you should know that something is happening here, too.
Apeq ushered a middle-aged woman in a simple dress and apron into the room and I slumped with relief. There were no oakleaves on her attire.
Remember the building we hovered under? The one where we overheard the people speaking of not using the ropes to pull up supplies?
How could I forget?
The woman examined Bataar under our watchful eyes, laying a hand across his forehead and inspecting his leg where the bolt had hit him. She bandaged the wound there, but she couldn’t stop shaking her head.
There have been people coming and going from that building all day. It’s strange. They’re of every status in this society and foreigners, too.
I felt a pull at her words, as if I should be there investigating instead of here, but I knew better. Bataar needed us.
“This wound cannot be healed by natural means,” the woman said.
Told you.
“Do you know another way?” Apeq asked. I hated how wise and sensible he sounded and hated even worse how much Zyla smiled when he spoke.
The woman frowned. “I don’t deal in magical arts, Ex-” He held up a hand and she paused, smiling. “Honored Apeq. If one of your marvels did this, you’ll need to consult the Oak Order. My work is done with herbs.”
“Can you give him any herbs to help?” Zyla asked, her voice thick with concern.
“They will only delay the inevitable, but yes, they may delay it by a few hours,” the woman said. “Give me some space to do my work.”
We left her to it, squeezing into the corridor beyond and following Apeq down a winding staircase lined with bookshelves. Books of every size and binding imaginable filled the shelves and were stacked or wedged on top of the orderly stacks so that there wasn’t an inch of space not filled with books. I couldn’t keep my eyes from widening. I’d never seen so many books in my life.
“I have a place for your sister here, Zyla,” Apeq said, ushering us below. “Madame Rosen can see her after she is done with Bataar.” He seemed to notice me suddenly. “We don’t need you for this, boy. Go and find the kitchens. You look like you haven’t eaten in a month.”
I flushed, but it was hard to be angry at anyone who was offering me free food.
Besides, we have to think about this warehouse. Something odd is going on in there.
Well, I told you we should have investigated.
I feel ... drawn to it. It calls to me.
Ha! So, she criticized me for being drawn by danger and she was no better. This house of marvels was impossible to navigate between the narrow corridors and winding staircases.
Before I could finish the thought, the narrow corridor I was traveling opened to a huge room, three stories tall. The ceiling was shaped like a half of a sphere and painted with golden constellations over a blue cloud background. Someone had embellished it with white intersecting lines and notations. Beneath the ceiling, rose a large bronze contraption of spinning gears and wide concentric bands. Round spheres ticked slowly along ratcheting paths and the entire thing made a whirring sound that was oddly comforting.
There were chairs along the walls with small tables. The tables were useless as tables since every inch of them were covered with scrawled papers and books of notes. Around the room were tall, wide windows with those strange panes of glass that warped the world outside. They let light in, but the figures beyond were blurry as if I was looking through deep water.
I tried to inspect the central contraption, reaching toward the nearest sphere when a hand on my arm stopped me. I whirled and almost bumped into a man with a tray. He wore Apeq’s livery.
“Who are you?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. There was a strange gleam in them.
“I work for Apeq,” I said.
“You most certainly do not, boy. I am Vern Redgers and I run the staff. Here,” he shoved the tray at me. “Eat something and try not to disturb the device.” He looked around with a frown. “In fact, don’t touch anything in this room.”
I took the tray and sat at one of the overloaded tables. The tea was hot, the toast buttery, and a fruit I’d never seen made my mouth water with its tart smell and deep red coloring. I didn’t wait for someone to come and snatch it all away. I started eating immediately. If the tray was for someone else and they noticed the mistake they would be back for it, but by then I would have had my fill.
When I had eaten far more than I could hold, I took three of the eggs off the tray to juggle. I needed to think. Juggling helped with that.
We had a problem – Bataar.
He was a wanted man and if he died there would be questions. Worse, I had a feeling that Zyla would never forgive me if I didn’t find a way to make him well. Apeq was doing his best, but his best wasn’t good enough to heal Bataar.
I juggled the eggs round and round and thought about the problem.
What healed magic? More magic.
And who had magic around here? Magikas – which were a definite ‘no.’ Those Oak Order guys. I shuddered at the memory of their ‘healing house.’ No, thank you.
So where else did you get magic from?
Remember those guys with the magic items? Like that spider you had. Maybe one of them could heal a person.
But how would I know which one and how would I find a place where magical items were stored?
I hate to say this, I really do...
Spit it out. No need to be shy when you frequently read my mind.
Wouldn’t those Magikas sneaking into the city have more magical items?
They would.
And we know where they are sneaking in ...
I nearly dropped an egg.
Saboraak! You surprise me. I thought you didn’t want me going in there.
That was when I thought it was a needless risk. Helping Bataar is different.
I changed the simple circle I was juggling into a more complicated backcross and I let my thoughts drift on it. It was a risk and I was no hero – but I was willing to take a gamble when I needed to. And I actually didn’t want Bataar to die. Mostly for Zyla, but also because I was beginning to feel just a little responsible for him. After all, if I hadn’t tried to grab that spider I might have run to Saboraak quicker and maybe we would have launched into the air before he was hit.
The thought of that responsibility made me shudder and one of the boiled eggs flew out of my hand, hitting a table full of papers and knocking them over. I grabbed the other eggs hurriedly, left them on the tray and rushed over to hide what I’d done.
Bits of egg were scattered over the fallen papers and an open book was smeared with egg where it sat on the table. I gathered up the cooked yolk from the book, my face flushing at the waste of good food.
As I cleaned the book, a sketched image caught my eye. It was like a crossbar with wings suspended from a chain. Beside it, someone had scrawled the words, ‘increased luck, heightened fortitude.’ Below that was a sketch of a fan with a strange bird etched on it. Beside that were the words, ‘creates an impenetrable box.’
Wait. Was this book a list of items of magic? The next entry made my blood freeze. A bracelet of metal feathers was drawn and beside it were the words, ‘heals magical wounds, lost.’
Hurriedly, I brushed the egg off the book and flipped through it. There must be a hundred entries here. I looked around and listened carefully.
There was no one around.
Good.
I stripped off my cloak, turned the coat with Apeq’s sigil on it inside out so that the sigil was hidden and then put my clothing back on, shoving the book in the back of my pants where it was hidden by both jacket and cloak.
With this book, I could find a healing object. I knew where to look and I could compare anything I found to the rest of the notations.
But there are guards everywhere looking for you.
There were guards everywhere looking for a man with marked arms and mine were bare.
I found a catch on one of the paned glass windows and eased it open on stiff hinges. Time to go save Bataar.
I think you should wait for Apeq and Zyla.
If I did that, they’d send me to a corner somewhere to eat eggs while they had all the fun.
I thought you weren’t a hero.
I wasn’t. But couldn’t a regular guy find a magic item, save the life of a friend, and count on his dragon for help?
Sounds pretty heroic to me.
Don’t drag me into this hero nonsense.