“Those words didn’t sound very magical…” Ash said. Excitement roared through him, magic! He could be a magician! He stared hard at the rock. “Stony, bony, all so lonely. Show these children magic’s not phony.”
He reached out a tentative hand, but the stone felt as cold as ever.
“Let me try,” Rae said. She repeated the words, but when they touched the stone nothing had happened.
Sim chuckled. “The words aren’t so important. I believe Ferguson here added those for effect.”
“You didn’t have to ruin it, Sim. Magic’s much more than words. It’s all about energy. Some people can control it, some people can’t.”
“Energy, aye?” Ash said, preparing to try again.
“Okay, that’s enough, little magician,” Sim said. He laid a hand on Ash’s shoulder and turned him toward the door. “I only brought you here so you’d believe me, not so you could become a sorcerer.”
Ash glanced once over his shoulder at the stone. Rae dragged her feet behind him. The door jangled as they stepped outside and were bathed in bright afternoon sunlight.
“I’m going to become a magician!” Ash said as the door closed.
“Me too!”
“You’d have to go to the Institute for that.”
“You keep mentioning the Institute,” Ash said. “But what is it?”
“The Institute is the greatest place of learning in all the known kingdoms. In fact, it’s practically its own kingdom. They have the biggest collection of books anywhere in the world, and they teach everything from crafting to medicine, including magic.”
“A school for magic?” Ash said, breathless.
“Yes.”
“Where is it?” Rae said. “Can we visit it?”
“It’s several week’s walk away to the west, on the border of Aldeberg, Ridgmont, and the Riverlands but not part of any of them. But don’t think of running off in the middle of the night; you’d starve before you got there, and it costs money.”
“To learn magic?” Ash said. “It must cost a fortune. I bet only rich people go there.”
Sim shrugged. “I’ll admit most of them are rich. But the Institute likes to be inclusive. If you can prove you have talent it’s not unknown for them to… adjust… the fees.”
“Really?” Ash said. “We could really go there?”
“Perhaps,” Sim said with a twinkle in his eyes. “One day.”
“We’ll save up,” Rae said.
“Yeah! We’ll be the greatest magicians that ever lived.”
Rae threw her hand toward a nearby barrel. “Boom! I exploded it with the power of my magic.”
Ash chuckled and threw his hand at another barrel. “I got that one, boom!”
“And here I thought you two would use your powers for good,” Sim said, climbing back up onto the wagon.
Rae and Ash clambered up after him.
“Oh we were,” Ash said. “Those were evil barrels.”
They shared a laugh then lapsed into silence. Ash and Rae shared some of each other’s thoughts, all of them swirling around magic. It was real; what if they could do it? The people back at Wichden would never believe it. Ash grinned as he imagined himself riding a fine white horse, Rae at his side, both of them healing people with the power of their minds, saving crops, averting disaster. They’d be heroes.
Everything they wanted to know about magic had to be written somewhere. Books. They just needed the right book.
11
Ash gaped and his head spun as he tried to look at everything at once. Hundreds of stone buildings towered on either side of the street with bright signs and glass-fronted windows. People, more than he’d ever seen in one place, milled up and down the main street, most on foot, stepping in and out of shops or talking at street corners.
The main road curved up from the gate and circled around in a spiral, moving upward and inward toward the sparkling gem at the city’s center… the palace. Ash and Rae craned their necks to glimpse the shining palace walls over the top of the stone buildings. Gold and blue flags fluttered from high towers, just visible over another high wall.
Around every corner Ash spotted something that he’d never seen before, from huge carriages to delicate slippers made of felt.
A half hour from the city gates they came to a second, sturdy stone wall that cut across the road and divided the city. Two guards stood on either side of the road in front of the gate, while more lounged just inside a wooden guard house.
“Show us your mark,” the older guard said, squinting up at Sim.
Sim leaned down and tugged up the sleeve of his traveling robe to reveal a blue tattoo depicting a simple castle. The guard cupped his hand over it, peered through a small hole between his fingers and nodded once.
“He’s clear.”
The second guard stood back and waved them on. Sim clicked his tongue and Gillie plodded forward, through the gateway and into the next section of city. Here the buildings stood taller, the signs shone brighter, the people were cleaner, and Ash couldn’t see anyone skulking in the shadows.
“What was all that about?” Rae said.
“Ah, that was Falconwall’s class system at work,” Sim said. “The city is divided up into districts, and only people who are eligible may enter certain districts. This is the Craftsman’s District. We just came from the Lower Trading District.”
“Your tattoo…” Ash said.
“Special ink,” Sim said. He held out his arm to them.
Ash cupped his hand over the image, shielding it from the sun, and then peered through. “It glows!”
Sim grinned. “It sure does.”
Rae took his arm and studied the tattoo inside the shadow of her hands. “It looks like a symbol.”
“It tells the guards that I’m eligible to go as far as Upper Trading, but not beyond.”
“What about us?” Rae said.
“Ah,” Sim said. “Upper Trading allows respectable looking guests so long as they’re accompanied by a suitable adult, but don’t get trapped down here by yourself, they won’t let you back.”
“How do they decide who’s eligible?” Rae said.
“Money,” Sim said. “And family. You’ve got to pay a fee to get your tattoo.”
“It didn’t seem so bad in Lower Trading.”
“Not where we were,” Sim said. “Just remember, there are all sorts down there. We stayed on the main road; it’s okay there because everyone has to travel to the inner city somehow and so the guards keep an eye on it. There’s also a lot of trade that goes on because it’s next to the docks, but away from the main street it can get nasty. Best you stay away.”
Ash bit his lip and wondered what those areas must look like. He’d read about them in books, but he had never actually seen a slum before. Still, if Sim said it was dangerous, he was probably right.
It took another hour for them to spiral around to the next gate. The guards leaned against the gate and smiled as they approached.
“Good morning, sir. Just have to check your tattoo.”
They checked Sim’s arm and waved them through. The wagon trundled forward.
“You’ll find the treatment gets better the farther in you go,” Sim said with a chuckle.
“What’s to stop people from copying the tattoos?” Rae said.
Sim grimaced and looked over his shoulder. “Shh! Don’t even say that. It’s a capital offence to copy a district tattoo. It’s illegal to even own the ink unless you’re specially licensed by the city. It would be death to even try, they can tell the fakes.”
“Just wondering,” Rae said, holding up her hands.
Sim nodded and turned back to the front, clicking Gillie onward and upward. “This is Upper Trading, as far as my meager tattoo will take us.”
Two-story buildings lined the road, all with clean glass windows that showed off shining jewelry and the latest fashions. Colorful banners decorated the streets, and at each corner fluttered a flag with the kingdom’s emblem�
�a gold castle on a blue background. Cobblestones lined the streets and no one hawked at them as they rode past.
Ash whistled. “Nice place.”
“You bet,” Sim said.
“What’s above here then that you can’t get to?” Rae said. “I can’t imagine any place nicer than this.”
“The Noble District,” Sim said. “That’s where you’ll find the noble families of the kingdom, any visiting dignitaries, as well as Lord and Lady Laceby.”
“Where are the magicians?” Ash said.
Sim chuckled. “That depends on the magician. There’s no specific quarter; their location usually depends on their skills. The highly skilled magicians are kept on by the noble families and so live up there. Others have private stores here in the Upper Trading district. Less reputable sorcerers have shops in Lower Trading. But I’d stay away from them if I were you.”
“But your friend…” Rae said.
Sim waved his hand. “Good for a demonstration. He makes a living selling cures for toothaches and such, but his magical skills are limited which is unsuitable for Upper Trading.”
“And what do you sell that makes you so superior?” Rae said, arching her eyebrows.
“Ah,” Sim said. “I sell curiosities from all across the land.”
“You sell salt,” Ash said, reaching under his seat and holding up a bag.
Sim snorted. “I sell salt to country folk. I don’t travel to the other kingdoms to sell things; I travel there to buy things.”
“I’ve never seen you buy anything.”
“Do you think the people of Wichden would have anything to interest the upper classes of Falconwall?” Sim said.
“I suppose not.”
Sim nodded and pulled Gillie to a stop. “And right on time, here we are.”
A two-story stone building stood before them with a narrow alley running up its side and the main road snaking away in front. A red and gold sign hung above the door proclaiming “Sim’s Emporium of Curiosities”. A paper note hung from the door with curled handwriting across it: Currently collecting wonders from the world. Returning by autumn.
“Aren’t you worried about people breaking in?” Ash said.
Sim climbed down from the wagon and tugged the note from his door. “A good thing about the tattoo system is that the people who need to break into places can’t get into this part of the city.”
“Mister Sim!” A boy of no more than ten ran out of the shadows, grinning.
“Ah, hello, Dovid.”
“You’re back.”
“Just like I said.”
“Who’s this?” Dovid said, pointing to Ash and Rae.
They both climbed down from the wagon and stood beside Sim.
“These two are going to help me with the shop. Ash and Rae, I’d like you to meet Dovid. His father owns the stables nearby and Dovid here kindly helps me with Gillie. They also keep an eye on things while I’m gone.”
Dovid nodded once to Ash and Rae. “Shall I take old Gillie round back?”
“Yes, please, and just hitch the wagon to the usual place. I’ll go through it later.”
Dovid led Gillie down the thin alley beside the building.
Sim drew a leather string from around his neck, a shiny key hung from the end. He unlocked the door and it swung open without a sound.
“Ah,” Sim said. “Home at last.”
He stepped into the room beyond and gestured for them to follow. Bright sunlight spilled through the full-length windows and lit up the room which was lined with solid wooden shelves, all laden with mysterious objects. Metal contraptions with spinning dials whirred in one corner while marble statues of animals that Ash had never heard of glimmered in another. Bleached bones of some small creature hung from the ceiling in a life-like pose and a dozen books lined a shelf near the door.
Ash and Rae stood in the middle of the room, their mouths hanging open.
“It’s amazing,” Rae said.
Sim looked up from a pile of papers in his hand. “I hope you like it. This is where you’ll be staying, at least for the time being.”
“Here?” Rae said. “But it’s giant!”
Sim shrugged. “It’s home. The bedrooms are upstairs, you’ll have to share I’m afraid.”
“A bedroom just for us!” Ash said.
“Don’t worry. You’re not getting it all for free; you will have to work for it.”
“I don’t think I could possibly do enough to earn all of this,” Rae said in a soft voice.
“I’m sure you’ll do your best. Now, it’s almost dinner time and I know I want something other than travel food. We’ll head out shortly.” Sim pointed at the back of the room where a doorway disappeared into darkness. “The stairs are through there; your room is on the left.”
“Our room,” Rae said. “It’s like you knew we’d be coming.”
“Ha, I’m no magician. That room is always made up in case of guests.”
Ash followed Rae out of the shop and into the hallway beyond. A straight staircase rose to his right. “Can you imagine? A whole room just in case guests arrive?”
“Mother would have a heart attack if she could see us now,” Rae said.
They clomped up the wooden steps and turned into the first doorway on their left. A square window let in the dying afternoon sun and lit up two single beds and a set of drawers. Ash brushed his hand along the thick covers of one bed and a lump formed in his throat.
“There should be clothes in the drawers!” Sim called up the stairs.
Ash and Rae pulled open the topmost drawer; clothes for both of them lay folded inside.
Ash held a cream-colored shirt up to his chest. “They’re even the right size.”
Rae frowned and sat on the bed with a shirt clutched in her hand. “Do you wonder when it’s going to end?”
“What do you mean?” Ash pulled off his travel-stained shirt and tugged on the new one. The fabric caressed his skin and settled on his shoulders like a cloud.
“It’s all too good to be true. I feel like at any moment something bad is going to happen, and reality will come crashing back.”
Ash frowned and sat next to Rae. “Everything has been going strangely well.”
“Like these clothes,” Rae said. “How can he have clothes that fit us here, ready and waiting, when he hadn’t even seen us before and definitely didn’t know he’d be collecting us on the way home?”
“Maybe he keeps them here for guests?” Ash said.
Rae shook her head.
Ash fell back on the mattress, relishing in its soft cushion beneath his body. “Can’t we just enjoy it?”
“We can. But he knows what we are. I just think we should be careful and keep our eyes open, just in case.”
“In case reality decides to come back?” Ash said.
“Exactly.”
12
“All right you two, it’s time you learned how to earn your keep.”
Ash and Rae stood to attention and shared an uneasy glance.
“You’ll be helping me sell,” Sim said, waving his hand to encompass the shelves of stock surrounding them. “In particular, you’ll be using the pushcart to sell at other places. The important thing to remember about selling here is that nobody needs anything we have, so you have to convince them to buy it.”
He took a golden statue of Fel, God of Fortune, from the nearest shelf and held it out. “Nobody needs a statue of Fel; let alone one made out of gold. Your job is to convince people that they do need it, and that they need it right away.”
“How do you convince someone they need something?” Rae said.
“Ah.” Sim held up a finger. “A lot of knowledge comes with experience, but in all my time selling I’ve found that there are actually only a very few types of people. Once you put someone into their type, then you’ll know how to sell to them. Come here.”
He led them to the front window that looked out on the cobblestone streets. A closed sign hung over the door, but
many other businesses were already open and people thronged the street outside.
“First, the Moneybags,” he said, nodding to a man on the other side of the street. “See how his coat is trimmed in white fur? It’s not at all practical and doesn’t suit him, but he’s wearing it anyway. Why?”
“He likes doing washing?” Ash said.
“He’s not very bright?” Rae said.
“No. It shows off how rich he is. Firstly, the white fur had to come from the Northern Kingdoms—probably the Iron Hills. Almost no one goes hunting there, so buying fur is extremely expensive. Also, because it’s white, he’ll only be able to wear it a few times before it’s too dirty and he’ll have to get another one. The fact that it’s spotless tells us that it’s new. Add to that his round stomach, the fine cut of his clothes, and the way he looks down his nose at everyone, and you’ve definitely got a Moneybags. They’re the easiest to spot.”
“So we want to sell to him because he’s got lots of money?” Rae said.
“In a way,” Sim said. “But it’s more than that. You have to know how to sell to different people. It’s all about reading body language and knowing what people really want. Moneybags over there clearly wants the world to know how rich he is; he wants things that show off his money. There’d be no point trying to sell him something practical; he’s probably got someone who buys that stuff for him, and there’s no point trying to sell him something that’s on sale. He wants to spend. So you have to give him the opportunity. You two go to the back and pay attention.”
Ash and Rae scurried into the shadows at the back of the store and watched as Sim attached a bell to the door and took down the closed sign. He swung open the door and the bells jingled.
Moneybags looked up at the noise.
Sim strode to the front and called out into the street, “The finest trinkets money can buy. Rare and expensive items, not found anywhere else.”
Moneybags walked across the street toward them, his white fur cloak shone in the bright morning sun.
“Ah, sir,” Sim said. “You look like a man with impeccable taste. It’s a shame you’ve been forced to wear such a common necklace.”
Shadow of a Slave (The Blood Mage Chronicles Book 1) Page 6
