The Archean Connection

While the masquerade had not exactly been a night of leisure and pleasure, nor had Martel's fears of fighting or fleeing come true. He felt pessimistic about the odds of actually solving this crime or finding the relic, but in the end, this was not his headache either. He had done what he could; in Martel's mind, he had fulfilled the terms of his agreement with the Friar. Let the old monk and his jester worry.

Focusing on his own matters, Martel went to his Pelday lessons in the Circle of Fire. Training his ability to sense heat had paid off; literally, as his fight in the Chamber of Earth had shown last Pelday. Training with the other acolytes now, he hit almost every spell with unerring accuracy. He almost revelled in the sensation, feeling like an expert marksman. There would be no hiding from his spells. If Martel had been powerful before, he had taken a big step towards truly becoming a battlemage.

His good mood lasted until a message found him.

Martel,

Please meet me in the tavern

across the square during sixth bell.

The Keeper must have found something. Martel was tempted to ignore the message, but he still felt a little obligated to see this through. Plus, if they did find the relic, Martel had been promised a chance to study it. Worth going to the tavern, at least, and seeing what the Keeper wanted.

***

As the young mage stepped inside the drinking hole, his eyes quickly glanced over the many patrons to find his acquaintance. He almost did not believe his own eyes as he recognised a young woman with red lips, sitting casually at a table with two mugs in front of her.

As she made no attempt to hide herself, Martel figured she wanted him to approach her. He realised why the note had not been signed. Crossing the room, he stopped in front of her. "What, did I forget my gloves in your chamber?"

The corner of her mouth tugged upwards. "Have a seat. We've got something to discuss."

Martel disliked doing what she wanted, but his curiosity proved stronger. He sat down and pulled the extra cup of ale towards him. "Which is?"

"On your way home, I noticed you had a companion."

Martel cursed silently. He had not considered Ruby following him. She had helped him, after all, acting the part of an ally. "What about it?"

"I spent half the night wondering why the Keeper of the Pact would be in cahoots with a young wizard. I couldn't grasp what you'd have in common. Until I remembered what you told me."

Martel refrained from replying and simply drank from his cup.

"Something magical was stolen that requires a mage to track down. What could be stolen that the Keeper would care about?" Ruby's smile infuriated Martel, so he looked away. "A certain relic, perhaps."

"Look, is there a reason we're meeting? Honestly, I don't care about any of this. I traded a favour for a favour, and I consider my involvement done. You want something, I'm not the person to see."

"That's disappointing. Here I am, come to offer my help." Ruby's expression turned sickeningly sweet.

"Why?" Given their conversation last night, she clearly did not offer this out of charity.

"Because if somebody has taken the relic, I want to know who and why."

Martel knew how deceptive she could be, but her answer made sense. Clearly, Lady Pearl was under pressure; the Keeper had already presumed she was involved in the theft, except as the culprit. But her role might be that of victim, assuming one of the Ninth Lords intended to abolish the Pact and go on the offensive in the bridge district.

Even if this was some ploy, it might still provide Martel an opportunity to find the relic where he otherwise had none. And with his magical prowess constantly improving, he did not feel worried. "So, what do you suggest?"

"I'll help you in your investigation. Do you have any clues as to who's done the deed?"

"Not really." Even if Martel assumed her offer was sincere, he knew he had to be careful what he revealed. Working with Ruby was one thing; trusting her was something else entirely. "The thief was able to open a magical lock that I don't think any wizard in Morcaster could get by. Which made me think of the Tyrian bard, who so helpfully provided you with a rune token for your own activities."

Ruby smiled, as if proud. "This lock, what manner of magic is it? Also Tyrian?"

Martel was a little surprised she knew to distinguish between the schools of magic. "No. Archean."

She nodded a little. "That's rare. Finding a northern bard to scribble some scratches isn't hard if you got money. But Archean magic, you need more than coin. You need the right connections."

"To what?"

"Trading in such artefacts is costly, difficult, and carries an element of risk. Not many in Morcaster who do. Fortunately for you, as the righthand woman of a Ninth Lord, I know such a fellow."

"And you can introduce me?" Martel asked.

"More like, I'll bring you along when we ask the guy if anyone's traded Archean magic."

He spent a moment to consider her proposal. Despite his misgivings about the nature of her assistance, he knew he needed help if his investigation was to progress.

"If you're wondering about the Keeper, feel free to discuss this with him. But as a free reeve, without the backing of a Ninth Lord, don't expect him to have the sway needed to arrange such a meeting. You need me for that."

"According to you, that is." Despite his retort, her words made sense. If the Keeper knew about this trader in artefacts, he would have brought it up as an obvious lead to investigate. "When can we do this?"

"I'll ask for a meeting. Probably tomorrow or the day after." Ruby gave a sly smile. "This'll be fun."

Martel did not reply other than to finish his cup. Setting it down, he dug out some copper coins.

"No need to pay. We'll consider it my treat," she suggested, still with that smile.

"No thanks." Martel was not going to be indebted to her if he could avoid it. He got up and walked out, leaving three pennies on the table.