Late that night, I was sitting at my dining room table enjoying a late supper. We’d taken the staircase behind the 6th-floor boss to return to the surface. Accompanying me were Lance, Blackwing, and Primrose, though the latter had already eaten and simply sat across from me consulting her notes. My familiar was eating seeds and berries off another plate.

“I’m glad you’re back, we’ve already received multiple inquiries as to your whereabouts during this time of crisis…” Primrose told me, concerned.

“I’d be happy to testify,” Lance suggested, “I was given my orders by the king himself, and have been with wizard Jason this whole time.”

“It probably won’t be necessary, but thank you,” Primrose nodded to Lance,

“What do we know about the attack?” I asked between mouthfuls, more concerned with the king’s health than my reputation.

“The king remains under the care of his healers but has not woken up. No one is certain what is wrong with him. They want you to come take a look at him, perhaps you will figure something out.”

“I’m not a healer, but I will go… there might be other wizards more suited for this task though,” I pointed out.

“The court wizard is the liaison, it falls to you to formally request that the Mage Guild send someone,” Lance explained. “Without you, they may hesitate to act for fear of being accused of undue interference in the internal affairs of the kingdom.”

“So I have to go take a look, then make a formal request if there’s nothing I can do?”

“There’s already a wizard or two among the healers that have seen his majesty,” Primrose pointed out, “There’s more than a few wizards who end up joining the Healer’s Guild, a formal request at this point might not be a good idea. It would only make you look incompetent.”

I frowned, feeling helpless. “Well, what should I do then?”

“Go there, look around, offer to help,” Primrose explained glumly, “for appearance’s sake.”

“The royal guard has mages,” Lance said, giving Primrose a brief angry look, “and they are responsible for the king's magic defenses. But you’re a wizard, you might detect something more. Check the wards around his suites. The king also wears many enchanted protective charms. There might be clues as to how the attack was performed, what the attack did, or even who is behind the attack if you examine how those defenses failed.” Lance suggested. “I will vouch for you to the captain of the royal guards, he will let you conduct your own investigation.”

I nodded, that seemed more useful than simply showing up.

Primrose’s expression looked concerned, “If you do find something, don’t accuse anyone just yet. Tell the captain what you find, but be sure no one else hears of it. By the way, where’s your staff?” She asked.

“Destroyed,” I said with a sigh, “during the last boss fight I was in.”

“Jason! You can’t show up at the royal court without a staff! Remember what happened last time? Do you want me to fetch you a new one? I’ll go knock on Tenstone’s door, he’ll open his shop for an emergency like this.”

I thought about it, but a store bought pre-enchanted staff was likely not up to my usual standards. There were a lot of advantages to enchanting your own staff, so those who bought pre-enchanted tended to be those who couldn’t enchant it themselves; mostly mages hoping to become wizards someday. It would be a beginner’s staff, unable to handle large amounts of mana, better than nothing, but not by much. I had another option available.

“I have a new staff,” I said, “an item drop from the dungeon.”

Most of the equipment the orcs had used had simply vanished, reabsorbed by the dungeon to be used again when the orcs revived. But the crown and the shaman’s staff had remained. To reward the adventuring team, I’d offered to buy the staff, they’d agreed to my offer.

“I don’t think I’ve heard of this city’s dungeon dropping a wizard’s staff before,” Primrose commented.

“I think I’m the first to get it,” I admitted. “We unlocked a special encounter with an orcish shaman who was using it.”

Primrose’s eyes lit up. “Excellent, what a statement that staff will make then. I’ll be sure to spread the story.”

I nodded in resignation. Primrose’s job was to worry about that sort of thing, but for me, I was more concerned with the idea of using a staff produced by a dungeon core. Was that truly safe? I had a reason for distrust. “Blackwing, after dinner, will you help me look the staff over, make sure it’s not cursed somehow? There was a layer of enchantment on it I didn’t recognize,”

“Yes,” Blackwing caws in agreement.

“There’s something else you should know,” Primrose tells me reluctantly, “The princess has sent you an invite to have tea with her tomorrow afternoon. You can’t really afford to refuse, just be on your toes, and remember not to trust anything she tells you.”

“Isn’t there some way to cast some sort of truth spell?” Lance asks, “The third princess is… problematic, but to say she’s a liar, shouldn’t you try to get proof?”

Primrose shakes her head, “Truth spells aren’t so simple, or everyone would use them all the time, right Jason?”

I nod, “There are two types, passive and active truth spells,” I explain, “Passive ones are legal, because they work non-intrusively, picking up on any lies told nearby. But they can be fooled pretty easily by anti-scrying spells, as they are a form of divination magic.”

“We can safely assume the princess will have an anti-scrying enchantment on her at all times. Many of the wealthier nobles wear a ring or necklace with that enchant,” Primrose adds, “Jason should be able to tell if a person has an anti-scrying spell active or not though.”

“Active truth spells have to be cast on a person directly and are a form of soulmancy that works by examining a person’s soul.” I continue explaining, “Although nearly impossible to fool, because it is soulmancy, this type of truth spells are highly illegal without a warrant. An active truth spell also requires that the castor keep touching the target the whole time,” I explain. “And, I don’t actually know enough soulmancy to properly cast it; it’s a spell only taught to inquistors.”

“I can cast,” Blackwing says proudly. None of us are even surprised by this, except Lance who gives the bird a long evaluating look.

“I doubt the princess will calmly let Blackwing sit on her shoulder for prolonged periods of time,” Primrose observes.

“You could always just ask the princess to temporarily remove her anti-scrying device, so you can cast the passive truth spell without interference,” Lance suggests, “If she’s telling the truth about something, she should be willing to do that.”

“The other drawback both types of truth spell share is that they can only detect what the target thinks is true, not actual objective truth. There are ways to convince people of things that aren’t true, such as a charm spell. It is even possible to edit one’s own memories in order to deceive oneself. So in the end, I’m not sure even an active truth spell would be enough to prove anything,” I say with a sigh. “Well in any event, I’ll deal with the investigation first, then go see what the princess wants to say to me,” I decide. No point in refusing the invitation, I would just have to be careful and skeptical.

Lance finished his plate, then said, “It’s late and we should rest before heading to the castle early tomorrow. If it is acceptable to you, wizard Jason, I should like to stay here with you. The king’s orders were to keep you safe, I would feel better if my men and I remained as your personal security until this matter is resolved and the king reassigns us,” He offered. “This would also allow me to accompany you all day tomorrow, just in case.”

“That’s fine with me, but only if you call me Jason, just Jason.” I tell him, slapping him on back in gratitude, “I appreciate it.”

“It is my honor, Jason. Madam Primrose, if you have spare rooms for my men and I, I would appreciate it.”

“Of course, sir Lance,” Primrose said with a nod, “follow me.”

The two left me, leaving me alone with Blackwing. I finish my own meal, wait a bit for Blackwing to grow tired of pushing berries around her plate, then we go to the workshop where I’d left the staff. Blackwing hops over to the table and places one claw on the staff to examine it.

Blackwing cawed, “It not cursed. Has soul siphon.”

“Soul siphon?” I asked, confused, “That’s the unfamiliar enchant? I’ve not heard of it.”

“Dangerous,” Blackwing opined, “Shouldn’t use.”

“What does it do?”

Blackwing looked away, “Old enchant, rips souls, steals soul bits, stores them.”

“Why would anyone want to do that?” I asked, horrified.

“Souls useful. I can eat, turn into mana. Give you mana.” Blackwing explained reluctantly.

So that’s what the dungeon core had been trying to tell me of? That’s why the strange raven had shown up during that encounter? To eat the orc shaman’s soul and give him more mana? I shuddered, what a twisted bargain.

“Blackwing, you eat souls?” I asked her quietly.

“Not anymore,” Blackwing said defensively, “I quit.”

“I won’t use that enchant,” I said resolutely.

“Good. There is a price. Don’t like.” Blackwing explained cryptically.

I sigh, “Anything else I should know?”

Blackwing shook her head, “Tell you, if important. Some things, better not know.”