The Crafting of Chess

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The Crafting of Chess Page 19

by Kit Falbo


  He accepts it gratefully. “Do stick together and try not to get lost in there.”

  Stepping into the quarter is stepping into a whole other land. The screenshots hadn’t done it justice and looked completely different from what I see before me today. There are no straight lines. It is all just jagged lines or twisty wiggles. The buildings either look melty or dangerously sharp. Even the road isn’t right. It takes a moment to get my bearings. Jasper isn’t so lucky, and he empties whatever is in his stomach on the road. “I hate you right now.” He groans.

  “Well let’s hope this deal with King works out. Who knows what job I’ll have to find for you if it doesn’t. An extra hand at enchanting is an option.”

  His only response is a glare.

  It’s difficult walking at first, as the ground looks flat but really isn’t. You have to walk with strong heavy steps expecting your foot to come down on something not quite level to where it left off. Makes me wish for the extra stability a staff would provide. Maybe it isn’t just a weapon of choice for magic users.

  Once we fully get our bearings, we start to look for Lady Else’s door. There are green doors, and red doors, maroon doors, and tangerine doors. I guess your door is a good way to know where your house is in this ever-twisting landscape. One building shifts a little, and another one disappears only to be replaced by another one. “I found it!” Jasper and I announce almost simultaneously.

  The door Jasper has found is more turquoise or robin egg blue, mine is darker, almost navy. Well, shit. The small paragraph in the wiki hadn’t been that clear. After a little debate we go to the house I picked first. A big man opens the door. He stands taller than the door and looms over us. In his hand is a staff as thick as my leg. His meaty hand manages to grip almost fully around it. He looks at us narrowing his eyes. “Two silvers,” He grunts in a deep voice. Jasper manages to be quicker than me and digs them out first, handing the coins to him. “The door you want is the one across the street.” He says gesturing to the one Jasper had found.

  “Thanks.” He closes the door in our faces.

  Lady Else looks like a kind old lady with gray hair and a frail-looking body that moves with surprising vigor. She insists we sit for tea before talking. “Sorry about Aaron. He isn’t usually on this street. But when he is, he dislikes having the Touched knock on his door. I keep on telling him that you are only looking to be useful.”

  I smile, “We appreciate that you are willing to help ma’am.”

  “You going to have your companion enroll at a school?” She eyes my familiar with a little bit of a frown. Hers, a large cat, sits lazily in a chair but never lets its eyes off of Cook. “Maybe a meeting with some high mages? I hear for the right price you can summon a new familiar.”

  I clear my throat and mentally tell Cook I would never do that. “I actually have business with the Order of Spellworks and need to find their headquarters.”

  “Oh gods, why would you want to go to that awful place? They are the reason we’re forced to live in this quarter.”

  I frown. There really is a lack of information on this order online. “Are they not one of the marshal orders of Lusania?”

  “I guess they still are, technically. Though in reality, it’s more like they used to be. If the kingdom wants something done right, they go to the guilds, associations, high mages. If they all say no, then they go to the order, I guess. The council has tried to get the guilds to take over, but no one wants to be at the beck and call of politicians.” She leans forward and whispers loudly. “Rumor is they are all cursed.”

  “Well, we’re kind of required to meet with the Spellworks as part of a quest. There is really no avoiding it.”

  “It’s a mistake, but I won’t keep you young men from it. I have the perfect job for you, and after that, I’ll help you find where it is. “

  Jasper speaks up, “With everything always moving around, how do you know where places are?”

  “Oh, I’m a bit of a precog. I think I gained it almost as a reaction to living here. You Touched and companions always have the trappings of a great destiny, so it’s hard to predict your futures. Finding where the mage guild is or where the stuck-up enchanters are holding out after the latest shifts are easy things.”

  Remembering what she said about the Spellworks I ask, “How is it the Spellworks are the reason magic users are forced to live in this quarter?”

  “They cast the spell that caused all this mess. Shifting of buildings. Crazy streets. It was an experiment in making the city difficult to capture during a siege. Of course, back then the Spellworks was large and powerful. I suppose that was the start of their downfall. Once they cast the spell, they couldn’t reverse it. Citizens fled, and the city became flooded with refugees from within. The council declared since magic caused this problem, magic users in the capital would stay there until it was fixed. Which is why many rent instead of buy or move out to other cities. And, if you start a magical organization, it must be founded and headquartered here as part of the requirements. The enchanters have tried several times to skirt those rules only to get slapped down.”

  “No wonder no one likes them.”

  Else chuckles. “I could tell a dozen more stories about Spellworks’ actions causing chaos. These days, everyone just keeps their head down and tries to avoid attention from them. Technically they handle magical policing, and no one wants their bad luck brought to their doorsteps. You two sweeties really shouldn’t go there.”

  I smile. “I’m afraid we must. If you would be so kind as to direct us the way to get there.”

  “I’ll be glad to help you if you could only help me. You see, all this shifting and moving really does a number on my libraries. I really could use some help putting them back together. Your familiar can keep my snookums entertained downstairs. Don’t worry. He wouldn’t hurt a…” She pauses a moment. “Mouse.”

  We leave. During our walk, Cook is whimpering in the back of my head. Jasper is walking with a wince. And I’m a little cross at the directions, which was Else explaining that the Spellworks occupies the tallest tower in the quarter. It’s tall and thin, and I just have to spot it in the distance, then start walking in that direction.

  “When this is over, we are never coming here again,” Jasper declares. “Whenever that woman got me alone she went straight for my butt.”

  “Well, when she got me alone, she merely leered and got comfortably close.”

  “I swear I have a bruise on my ass from where she kept pinching me. Who knows why she didn’t get you.”

  I suppose my age restrictions saved me. I remember the leers and shudder at the thought of what it might have been like if I did have mature content on. “Well let’s get going. Maybe we can make this our one and only day here.”

  The walk that should have taken twenty minutes at a brisk pace takes over an hour. Dead ends, sharp turns, buildings appearing and disappearing, sometimes blocking the route. As we approach the tower, things are shifting less, but the buildings also look worn down or abandoned. Garbage litters the street, something I hadn’t seen before in Lusania. The tower itself looks no less worn down than the rest of the buildings nearby. Cracks spider web the stone walls and entrance. No one stands watch waiting to see who would come in.

  I turn the handle and the door swings open with a groaning creak. The light inside is faint as it filters through dust-covered windows. I have to wonder if Else has sent us to the right place. “Hello?”

  “Whazzit!” calls a slurred voice. Up pops a tall, skinny, elderly man who had apparently been sleeping on the bench, he is wiping the sleep out of his eyes. He hugs a large open book to his chest.

  Jasper pales. “Highness?”

  “What? No. Spell gone wrong as usual.” The man speaks with the same southern-like accent I’d heard from Chatwin. “Welcome to the Order of Spellworks. Have you gotten lost? Perhaps only misplaced?”

  “I’m here to meet with the head of the order. I have a quest. “

 
; The man sets his book down where he had been sleeping and slowly walks up to me. He takes his finger and slowly pokes my arm. “You must be one of those Touched. Don’t feel no different than any old folk. First one I’ve seen. I’m Bolle, by the way.” He offers his hand for a shake.

  “Chess.” I give it a good shake. “Can you take me to the head of the order?”

  Bolle scratches his chin. “I suppose, as long as you’re not afraid of heights.” He gathers us up onto a platform near the back of the room. His whole body glows with magic, and the platform starts to rise. I look at the ceiling only to have it flicker out into a long shaft. We continue to rise at a slow and steady pace. Most of the floors we pass through are empty. We’re assaulted by wind as we rise through one floor that’s also missing the majority of its exterior walls. As we pass a man in a long coat working at an alchemy set, he waves. He looks identical to Bolle. After a while, we stop at what must be near the top.

  We are greeted here by another copy of Bolle, this one wearing a blue robe sitting in a chair reading a book. “Hey Roz, the boss in?” the first Bolle asks.

  Roz merely let out a short murmur and points to a door. We make our way inside to be greeted by yet another duplicate. “Hey Vale, a Touched and his companion are here to meet you.”

  “A messenger bird warned of his coming, but I wasn’t sure to believe it,” Vale states in a deep rumbly voice that does not at all match his body.

  Bolle takes that as his chance to exit. There are some seats near his desk that me and Jasper sit in..

  “Alerin King asked us to make weapons for the heads of each of the marshal orders. You’re not brothers, are you?”

  “The former king, his highness Berry the seventh, had asked for stand in’s that could not be detected by magic. The guilds and various magical associations refused, so the job fell on the Spellworks or what was left of us. It worked, at least outwardly on our two volunteers. Then it spread.” There is a small squeak as Jasper scoots his chair farther away. “Don’t worry, we’ve fixed the contagious part, but we still haven’t been able to reverse it. That’s one of the reasons those of us affected have been confined to this tower. The council feels people shouldn’t see their dead king wandering around. Fixing it has become our primary focus.”

  “I used to be a woman damn it!” a female voice, I assume Roz, yells from the outside.

  “As you can see, a weapon for the order is the least of our problems.” His deep voice is tired and depressed.

  I smile. “Yes, I can see that. But I still have to complete this quest for Mr. King. Turning this offer down won’t help you. Having a powerful staff or wand might.” Before he can say he isn’t interested I add, “Once I complete the item for you, I will gladly look into your situation, though I don’t know how I can help with your problem. My skills are currently limited to enchanting and smithing and Jasper here, while he’s always helpful, doesn’t know a lick of magic.”

  Vale shakes his head, “I suppose you’re right. We can’t afford to alienate anyone. Let’s have a look at your work.”

  I reach into my bag. I’d brought the sword I made for the Order of Officers with me, my plan is to deliver in the event that Noxtimus is successful. It’s the most powerful of my completed weapons that I can use, even without the bonus for Officers. I’d made the blade from eltrim ingot because the Officers I had seen had all been wearing green.

  “Here’s the blade I have made for the Officers,” I say, not mentioning that they didn’t even want it. I set it on Vale’s mostly empty desk. The green blade pulses with power. A thin vein of silver wood circled the officer’s pin I had stolen and set into the handle, then extended down a quarter of the blade. I’d placed a moonstone and a sunstone on opposite ends of the guard. Two spiral Horns into the grip and a high-quality crafting material called a battleseed for the pommel. Vale touches the sword lightly “This metal, it’s eltrim isn’t it?” His voice holds a bit of awe.

  “You’re the first one to recognize it. Even mastersmith Byron hadn’t seen it before. I had a small find and acquired some ingots along with alurite, metallic ebony, and a few others that no one recognizes.”

  “You found one of the lost treasure rooms! Were there any spell books or summoning circles? I should have heard about this happening!” Vale now has more life in him than I have seen in anyone working here.

  “I got lucky, managed to get some ingots, nothing else. Everything else there was pretty much crumbling.”

  “Can you at least tell me where it is? There might be some old magic in that place that can help us.”

  Sending them to Gar would not help either group. “No, it’s not mine to tell.” He looks like he is going to interrupt me, so I keep going. “Help after I make a weapon for you. Even I don’t always know what the finished product will be able to do.”

  I can see the anger in him, and the desire to pit his will against mine. He clearly saw potential in that horde of junk that I don’t. “But..” I watch as whatever will he has about his fade away, I think the years trapped here as someone else has weakened him. He slumps in defeat, like a chess opponent, who realises I will have checkmate in three moves.

  “I don’t see many spellcasters with swords though, so first we should talk about what you want.” I say.

  “No one really uses metal staffs now. Wood is plentiful, lighter and easy to replace. You need to be decently strong to even carry a metal one. I think there was a fad a long time ago, kind of like the one a few years ago where you cast a spell and have your familiar gain a glowing aura all the time. If we have a mold for one, it would be in the basement if you can find it, which is bad luck for you.”

  “Why is that bad luck for me?”

  “People don’t come back from visiting the basement. We’ve stopped sending them. I had hoped the basement might hold some books that could help with this.” He gestures to his body. “But there isn’t any point if no one can come back.”

  “I think you are forgetting something. I’m a Touched. If whatever you think is killing those who go down there kills me, I can just come back.”

  Vale’s jaw falls open slightly. “You would be able to come back, wouldn’t you? You can find the mold. And the books that are down there too! I can write up a list.”

  A quest notification pops up about reversing the curse. I hit Yes.

  “I would be glad to, though my companion Jasper wouldn’t be able to come back, should he die. Could you keep an eye on him while I go down there?” Jasper shoots me a dirty look, not that he wants to go down there, but I can tell he would much rather be out of this building, out of this quarter, than stuck here.

  “I will keep him safe for you. We can always use help with one thing or another. When would you like to go?”

  “You’ll help them, right Jasper? You can always say no if you feel it’s too dangerous.”

  “Of course,” Jasper replies through strained lips.

  “As for going, I just need to fade to home for a bit then I’ll be ready to go there soon.” It’s a little early for lunch, but I can have it delivered sooner.

  “I’ve never seen a Touched fade in and out, do you mind if I watch?”

  “Fine.” I pick up the sword and put it back in my bag. I check the log out button. It doesn’t show any restrictions here, unlike when I’d been in some of the other compounds for orders. I suppose if there is a quest in the basement, they want you to be able to log out before you start it. I log out.

  I arrange for the earlier lunch and use the time waiting to check the bank account. The cushion I had built is going down and not up, pretty much in direct proportion to the stuff that Gramps is buying at sales and still not selling. The living room is now half the size it used to be from the clutter. I guess a long time spent living out of a duffel in case you needed to go made Old Pa excited to have stuff, even if he is supposed to turn it for a profit. The quests are also cutting into my income, but not as much as Gramps new hobby. Thinking that I’ll need to sit
him down for a talk makes me feel old.

  Lunch is a personal pizza. I’m not that hungry, but this will give me more time in the game if the basement takes a while. Stomach full, I log back in.

  Vale is staring at me as I appear back in his office. Jasper has gone, and Vale tells me Cook dissipated as soon as I logged out. “Fascinating, I sense no magic.”

  “It’s part of the power of the gods.”

  “Do you think you can put in a word with them about helping us out with this body situation?”

  “Doesn’t really work that way.” I re-summon Cook. “Where’s my companion?”

  Vale shrugs. “I assigned him to the alchemy lab to help clean equipment there. A digger familiar is fascinating, most get familiars that can help in close combat or can fly and scout around. My own Podge is on the roof watching the city right now.” He pauses as if he is talking to someone in his head. “Well speak his name.” Vale waves his hand, and one of the walls of his room becomes transparent. “Someone set fire to a portion of the city.” A long streak of smoke is billowing near the city center. “I hope we don’t get blamed for this.”

  “Is that near the barracks?” I ask softly, almost making out the area from our bird’s eye view.

  He waves his hand, and the wall goes solid again. “I’ve got the list of books we are looking for. Obviously, we would like them all, but if you can find any of them, that may give us more to work off of. The mold for the staff too, of course.”

  I take the list and my quest updates. “Well, show me the way to the basement.”

  It is an invisible hatch on the first floor. When they ask if I need a light. I say no, “Cook cast Dark Vision on me.” With a torch, I can see this place being a little creepy with flickering flames lighting up the dark corners, but with Dark Vision, I can see rather well. Piles of crates filled with what I assume are magical knick-knacks, a rack with old dusty robes. Still not seeing any books or anything the size a smith’s mold would need to be for a staff. “Cook, let me know if you find any books or a tall rectangular thing about my height.”

 

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