The King's Spy (The Augur's Eye Book 2)

by Guy Antibes

  “I am the advisor and what I say goes. Whit is merely a student at the University of Herringbone, but I—”

  “Deechie is an instructor.” Gambol bowed. “I am a full professor and am the true advisor of the group. Deechie was thrust upon us by the College of Magic to ensure our failure. He is working with the rival team from the College of Magic. Forgive me for speaking without your permission.” Gambol bowed again.

  “I wondered why Greeb Deechie was representing both sides, but it isn’t a matter for the king of Perisia to solve. I command you two to stay away from each other while you are in Perisia if you want a royal dispensation. You can take your dispute out of Perisia when you are through. When you find one of these artifacts, bring it to me, and we will talk again.” King Quiller took another bite from the drumstick and waved them away.

  Whit recognized the dismissal and had the team bow to the king, again. The only one who didn’t was Deechie, who remained in the room, as Whit’s group filed out. A few seconds after the last person left the king’s dining room, Deechie was tossed out and slid along the floor, stopping at Zarl’s feet.

  “Should I kick him?” Zarl asked innocently.

  “Not today,” Whit said. He looked down at Deechie, who had ended up on his back. “I think it is plain that while we are in Perisia, you can play with Professor Porch’s team. Until then, you are officially kicked off the team, and I am sending a letter of protest to the University’s Head tonight.”

  They left Deechie rising and straightening his clothes. Deechie yelled from down the hall, “This isn’t the end!”

  “It is for as long as we are in Perisia,” Gambol said. “We will be following the king’s advice. Stay away from us, and we will stay away from you.”

  When they reached Pin, sitting in the greeting hall. The pixie noticed them and quickly joined the group.

  “How was it?” Pin asked.

  “A mess,” Whit said before recounting the brief encounter.

  Pin laughed. “You got much more out of King Quiller than you realized. One, the promise of a royal dispensation; two, a royal command to Deechie to stay away from you; and three the promise of another meeting. I wasn’t that optimistic.” Pin smiled as he turned away from Whit to follow Deechie’s steps out of the hall. The human turned and scowled at them on his way out.

  ~

  “This calls for a celebration that will be my treat. The carriages are waiting,” Pin said.

  Pin had the carriages ride past their inn, and then Pin climbed on the driver’s seat as they traveled southeast of Garri’s center until the carriages clattered through a large gate that was closed behind them.

  After twisting around, they stopped in front of a large mansion. It put the manor where Ritta had taken them to shame. There were a few other carriages in the drive.

  “We will be hosted by a friend of mine. He is currently out of government, but don’t worry, we aren’t among the factions seeking to dethrone King Quiller,” Pin said almost reading Whit’s mind.

  They walked into a large foyer. Whit looked up at two floors open above the main.

  “Is this where you are staying, uncle?” Yetti asked.

  “Smart girl. I am.” Pin walked to his left. “This way.”

  He led them through a set of doors into a large dining room. Six pixies sat at the far end talking, but they stopped when Whit’s group entered. Four men and two women stood. They were Pin’s age.

  “I can see Quiller didn’t throw them in the dungeons,” one of the women said.

  “Porra, there aren’t any dungeons at the palace,” one of the men said.

  “You spoiled my little joke,” she said.

  Pin raised his arms. “Sit, sit. They have good news.” He turned to the group. “These are my friends, retired ministers all. They wanted to meet you, but you aren’t to tell anyone that we met, so I won’t introduce you, at this time, anyway.”

  “That is good. My mind has already been scoured once,” Yetti said.

  “By whom?” one of the men asked.

  “Jonny Evia.”

  “Him,” another said, snorting. “He’s harmless, and beneath all his roughness an admirable chap.”

  “Maybe,” Yetti said, grudgingly.

  It sounded like they all knew Jonny, Whit thought. Jonny wasn’t a simple pub owner. Whit wondered who Jonny really worked for.

  “Let me introduce you to my Aycean friends,” Pin said. He gave little stories about each of the expeditioners and saved Whit for last. “Whit Varian is the youngest of our adventurers, but he is the most powerful. He calls himself a mud elf, but that doesn’t do his talents justice. He can perform at least three different magics. Wood elf, sky elf, angel, and pixie. You can imagine the boy’s pedigree with that kind of ability.”

  “He needs to be stuffed and put into our museum,” the “joking” woman said.

  “Maybe at some point,” Pin said with a grin. “They are seeking to rebuild the Augur’s Eye, but I have already told you this, and our friends haven’t had their lunch yet.”

  “Neither have I,” one of the men said. “Let’s put an end to that.” He clapped his hands and in a couple of minutes everyone had a plate in front of them with a tiny fowl and vegetables cut and arranged in fanciful patterns.

  “The king was eating something much larger,” Fistian said, looking a little disappointed.

  Their host laughed. “You can have as many plates as you wish but after we’ve finished all the courses.”

  “There is more?” Zarl said, looking hopeful.

  “Of course. Pin told me to expect a celebration, although I’m not sure what we would do if you came into my dining hall with long faces,” the host said.

  Pin asked Gambol to describe what happened in the king’s dining room.

  “It is never good when a villain’s reputation precedes him. I’ve had a few reports on the human stirring up trouble,” another man said.

  “What kind of trouble?” Whit asked.

  “A little bit of everything. He stole silver from one of our best restaurants. He absconded with the deposits that you established at your inn. He greeted a contingent of sky elves as soon as they arrived in Garri. I learned later that they are your competitors and was told that he claimed to be the leader of both groups.”

  “Our advisor,” Whit said, correcting the man. “We have replaced him with Gambol.”

  “I guessed you would do something like that after the royal command.” The male pixie laughed. “I’m glad to hear Quiller getting ahead of something for a change. How can we help you?”

  Whit told them briefly of their plans. He felt comfortable doing that because Pin already knew their next few moves. “Any information would be appreciated. We’ve already been to the museum archives.”

  “I’ll check with Ornnis to see if he had been influenced by Deechie,” the joking woman said.

  “If there is nothing you can do in Garri at the moment, why don’t you visit Winnet’s Bay?” the host asked. “There is a shrine to Saint Varetta. I’m sure I heard, long ago mind you, that she is linked to magical artifacts. I can’t speak to the accuracy of that, but it is a start.”

  Whit told them of their visiting the temple ruin, but not his personal experience which confirmed, to Whit anyway, that there definitely was a connection between Varetta and the Augur’s Eye.

  “I’ll write an introduction to a pleasure inn that I partly own there. It isn’t far from the shrine. Varetta was born along Winnet’s Bay, you know,” the host said.

  “We’ve already heard the story,” Whit said. “Winnet’s Bay is on our list.”

  “Spend an extra day or two at the inn and enjoy the sea. You’ll be able to observe how pixies spend their holidays.”

  “Rich pixies,” Pin said.

  “Of course, it is a nice inn, but I will cover all the costs.”

  Talk turned to the six pixies asking the group about life in Ayce.

  Another of the men played with his wine gob
let. “I heard that you have some scout players.”

  “Whit and Razz are the scout players of our group,” Gambol said.

  The pixie sat up and leaned forward. “Did you play on any organized teams?”

  “Whit played on the University of Herringbone scout team, and I was with Herringbone’s city team,” Razz said.

  “Traveling?”

  Razz nodded.

  The pixie rubbed his palms together. “I own the Garri traveling team. You might have seen our stadium on the outskirts of the city.”

  “We did,” Whit said.

  The pixie pulled out a card. “We are supposed to be anonymous, but here is my card. When you get back from Willet’s Bay, see me. I might be able to put you on one of my teams for an exhibition match. Having elf-sized players even for a game or two, would be lots of fun, especially observing how the oddsmen manage the betting.”

  “Is scout that popular in Perisia?” Argien asked.

  “Popular enough,” the team owner said. “Some look down on the sport, but every town of any size has a team.”

  “We didn’t see any permanent scout fields during our travels,” Razz said.

  “No permanent fields are allowed in most places. The home tubes get put up just before each game and are taken down just after in most places. You might be able to take in a game on your way to Willet’s Bay. Hammer has a permanent field, and the town is a scout playing center so there are games played almost every day,” the owner said.

  “Hammer,” Gambol said. “We will make sure that is on our route.”

  “Do that,” the owner said.

  One of the women asked Yetti what life was like for a pixie in Herringbone. Yetti admitted she didn’t have any problems in the Aycean capital except for encountering some aspects to life that weren’t optimized for a pixie’s diminutive size.

  The lunch was finally over when the host stood. “Your carriages wait outside. I have to join the exodus since I have business in the city center. Thank you for making our lunch worthwhile.”

  Pin rode in Whit’s carriage to the inn. “That went well, but then I expected it to. Our host and I were careful about who we invited, and the guests were briefed ahead of time, including the scout team owner. I’d take the offer of a stay at the pleasure inn. I need to stay in Garri to make sure Deechie is kept in check. I’ll make sure that the pleasure inn turns away the other expedition. There are other places to stay in Willet’s Bay for them.”

  “Then it is on to Willet’s Bay. I don’t have any expectations,” Whit said.

  “Consider it a pleasurable diversion. Porch’s team will follow us,” Gambol said, looking satisfied with both the lunch and the conversation.

  “So, at a minimum our competitor will follow us, Ritta and her revolutionaries will trail them, and King Quiller and who knows who else will bring up the rear,” Whit said, almost feeling overcome by it all.

  “Fun, isn’t it?” Pin said with a grin. “Most pixies will see the humor in the ridiculousness of it all, my friends.”

  Whit concentrated on the parade following them as humorous and finally found an image to smile at. There was nothing he could do about it since their destination was set. “At least we are the leader.”

  Pin nodded. “It makes it more fun. We don’t have to worry about anything, but everyone else will.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  ~

  T he two carriages left Garri through the west gate and ambled through the overflow of offices, mansions, and hovels all sharing the same district. Whit noticed more flying than in the city. The pixies looked like an aviary with many single flyers, but there were groups buzzing around the city. Some merely flew over the city wall into Garri proper.

  “Why are there so many flyers here?” Whit asked Yetti.

  She shrugged. “I’m a pixie, but I don’t live here.”

  There was a bump that shook the carriage. Whit hit his head on the roof. The carriage came to a stop, and Whit got out to help look at the damage.

  “A wheel is broken,” Razz said, the driver out of the city. “Luckily we have Zarl to help with the change.”

  Whit looked down the road. It looked like some kind of obstacle course with potholes all the way until the road was out of sight.

  A pixie walked up and gave Gambol a smile. “Having some trouble?”

  There is a hole in the road,” Gambol said.

  The pixie sighed, but the pixie’s face didn’t look sympathetic. “I can make your ride a little smoother. It will cost you a bit, but I’m sure it will cost less than more wheels,” the pixie said.

  Zarl walked up. “So this is why I saw everyone flying. You run the roads.”

  The pixie craned his head, looking up at the ogre. “You’re a big one. If you need a job repairing roads, let me know.” He graced Zarl with an insincere smile.”

  “How much?” Whit asked.

  “500 guineas.”

  “That’s highway robbery!” Gambol said.

  “It’s highway something,” the pixie said. “It’s that or you can try to make it out of West Garri your own.”

  Whit took Gambol aside. “Why didn’t Pin tell us about these thugs? There aren’t roads like this anywhere else around Garri,” Whit said, going back into the carriage once the wheel was replaced.

  “Our carriages won’t last to the end of the road,” Zarl said, “unless we fill the holes ourselves.”

  Whit grimaced. “Unless we can use some magic to fill the holes ourselves.” He rummaged around in his mind for a magic spell that might level the soil.

  “Magic?” Zarl said. “We can do that. Ogres can move dirt from one place to another pretty easily. I should have thought of that.”

  “You don’t have to fix every pothole,” Gambol said.

  “Of course not,” Zarl said. “It will take some time, but then so will the thug’s boys. We might have to fight our way through.”

  Razz glared at the pixie standing with three of his fellow criminals. “Fistian and I can take care of them.

  “Then let’s get started,” Whit said. “Show me your spell. I’m good at picking up some spells. Perhaps a wood elf can do something similar.”

  Zarl sported a dubious look. “You can try all you want.”

  The ogre walked in front of the first carriage and waved his hands. The soil looked like it was boiling, and then Zarl used his magic to smooth it out. Whatever spell he used also made the dirt compact enough to support the thin wheels of the carriages. The result wasn’t perfectly flat, but they could move forward.

  “What kind of visualization do you do?” Whit asked.

  “We have some boiling mud pots in a valley of geysers. That is what the ogres I know use.” Zarl laughed. “You think you can duplicate this?”

  “I can try.” He remembered when the royal government sent crews to redo the main road that ran next to Whistle Vale. Wagons dumped dirt on the roadway and a mechanism with a blade spread it with a water-filled roller evening everything out. There was no magic involved, just brute force, using huge horses to pull the machines. “Do another section.”

  Whit held onto Zarl’s wrist and closed his eyes. He felt power in the ogre’s shoulders as if Zarl was doing the work himself. Like the magical focus between his shoulder blades for flying like an angel, Whit focused on using his shoulders to magically move dirt, shape it and compact it.

  He tried a few times and suddenly the magic worked. He couldn’t do as much as Zarl could, but Whit could do a third of the road, saving Zarl’s strength until his magic was extinguished.

  Onward they went. Whit was able to get more efficient as he walked, and soon he caught up to Zarl. The carriages inched ahead right behind them. Whit and Zarl took a break, and behind them, the thugs were already digging up their repairs. Normally Whit would be angry, but he thought of the other group leaving the city and smiled. They would have to pay the toll.

  The potholes ended in less than half a mile. Whit was exhausted, and Zarl was
working much slower when the road flattened out.

  Whit climbed into the first carriage with Argien and Gambol. Fistian drove. Razz was on the driver’s seat of the second carriage with Zarl and Yetti inside.

  Gambol shook his head. “I think the College of Magic would be afraid of you, Whit Varian. Now you are performing ogre magic.”

  “I’m not sure it is ogre magic, after all. My visualization was much different than Zarl’s, but I can draw magic from where he did. I would guess that you, Argien, can’t pull magic from your shoulder muscles.”

  “Is that what you did?” the angel asked. “No, I can’t, and angels have tried to change the channels of magic in our bodies. It is fixed, in our case, anyway.”

  “That makes sense,” Gambol said, “but then I’m not a magic theorist. You are already unique to my experience, Whit, so this doesn’t surprise me.”

  “I am no more powerful, in fact, I could only keep up with Zarl by doing half the work he did,” Whit said.

  “Practice increases power,” Argien said. “Perhaps you are selling yourself short.”

  “There are limits to power,” Whit said.

  “And you haven’t reached yours yet,” Argien said. “You can carry more weight when you fly than anyone else I know, and I come from a town where everyone flies.”

  “I’m not going to worry about that, now,” Whit said. “I am concerned that thugs can baldly extort money from travelers. Why doesn’t the royal guard arrest them?”

  “Maybe there is a jurisdiction problem in West Garri,” Gambol said, “or someone is being paid off or Deechie put someone up to this.”

  “Wild and wooly Perisia,” Argien said. “Are there other countries where the laws are routinely ignored?”

  “Yes,” Gambol said. “I had never put Perisia in that category, but I do now after our experience traveling to Varetta’s temple.”