To Steal from a Demon (A Wielders Novel Book 2)

by Max Anthony

  With evening now fully upon the city, the door of The Wizard’s Repose (formerly The Hanged Sage) was opened and in stepped Junior Adept Skulks, keen to make the acquaintance of any likely-looking wizards and to thusly pump them for information. As he made his way to the bar, Skulks cast his eye over the room, seeing numerous potential gold mines of information for him to strike at with his metaphorical pickaxe. Wizards rarely needed an excuse to imbibe freely, though in this they were little different from the general populace of Hardened, and The Wizard’s Repose was doing a roaring trade. Skulks looked along the bar and selected a brew called Wibble Wobble, having eschewed The Three-Legged Mage and another called The Starlit Robes. Two middle-aged wizards were next to him at the bar, trying to outdo each other with their tales of derring-do.

  “So I caught the thief in a Net of Electro-Ablution and hauled him up to the ceiling! You should have heard him beg for mercy!” The wizard chortled heartily to himself. His companion was pretending to enjoy the tale, though in reality he was so excited about his own tale that he was hardly listening.

  “Did I ever tell you about the time a rogue thought to steal my bejewelled hair comb?” asked the second, who had exactly fifteen hairs on his head, scrupulously combed over to one side. Skulks knew there were fifteen hairs because he had counted them.

  “I don’t think I’ve heard that one before,” said the first wizard, already formulating his own next anecdote.

  “Well, I caught him breaking in through my privy window! To celebrate his entrance to my toilet I cast a spell of Rectal Voidance upon him. You should have seen him run! It was a good job he was wearing dark trousers, that’s all I can say!”

  Propping up the bar next to them, Skulks ground his teeth, thinking to himself that wizards were getting too big for their boots. He was looking for an opportunity to interject with an acerbic comment, but was denied the opportunity to put his foot in his mouth, for one of the adjacent wizards was now addressing him.

  “Let’s ask this fellow, shall we?” Skulks heard, before the wizard spoke to him.

  “I say, young man, you look like a chap of moderate learning and ability. Perhaps you could offer an opinion on a disagreement I’ve been having with my colleague Trumpy here?”

  Aware that he was here looking for information, Skulks suppressed his desire to tell the wizard to get stuffed for the cheeky greeting. Instead, he smiled and said:

  “I would be delighted to offer an opinion.”

  Trumpy turned to his colleague and said, “See, Pook! I told you he wasn’t one of the heavy-browed locals.”

  The wizard named Pook spoke. “My friend Trumpy is of the opinion that every major town or city should be governed by a council of benevolent wizards. After all, most people can’t be trusted to wipe their own backsides, let alone govern themselves. I am of the opinion that we wizards should keep ourselves at a distance and only intervene in government when, when…,” he stuttered for a moment as he looked at Skulks again, for Skulks was now wearing an earring the wizard was sure he hadn’t been wearing a moment ago. The earring looked identical to the wizard’s own prized earring. Thinking it mere coincidence, Pook continued, “I think we should only intervene in government when we deem it necessary.”

  “A conundrum indeed,” said Skulks. He absent-mindedly scratched his ear with its new earring, revealing a thick silver band on one of his fingers, looking for all the world like the one Trumpy had recently been wearing. “It would be my opinion that Hardened has a method of rule to aspire to. It is perhaps the wealthiest city in all three continents and none of the Chamber Council are able to cast even the smallest of spells.”

  Trumpy and Pook looked at each other for a moment after Skulks had finished speaking, before they burst out laughing. Trumpy clapped Skulks on the shoulder.

  “Oh splendid! I see what you did there!” he congratulated Skulks. “You card! You absolute card!”

  “Rule without wizards! Oh ho ho ho!” said Pook, his face quite red with the joy of it all. Eventually the wizards calmed themselves down.

  “What super fun!” said Pook. “I feel I should buy us all a drink, what say you fellows?” Skulks was certainly not one to turn down a drink and nor, it appeared, was Trumpy.

  “Three mugs of Fizzy Wizzy, sir!” Pook commanded of the bar keep. Before the drinks could arrive on the bar, Pook started patting his robes.

  “I say!” he commented. “I appear to be at a slight disadvantage. I could have sworn I brought out my coin purse!”

  “Good one, Pook, good one!” said Trumpy, reaching into his own robes. He too made a show of patting vigorously around his pockets. “Oh dear. I bought the last drinks, and now I can’t find where I’ve put my Slivers.”

  Shaking his head in an exaggerated fashion, to indicate that he didn’t believe them for one moment, Skulks reached into his own pocket and brought forth two leather coin purses, one bright blue and the other bright green. “How about I buy these next ones, gentlemen?” he asked. “Cocktails all round?” he offered generously, knowing that cocktails were the most expensive drinks served.

  “Cocktails it is!” exclaimed Pook happily, before looking more closely at the coin purse from which payment was being extracted. “Your purse is very like my own,” he said. He was almost correct, for this was exactly his purse and had been stolen from his robes less than thirty seconds previously.

  “And that other purse looks like mine!” said Trumpy. “It’s even got the maker’s stamp on it!”

  Having made payment for the cocktails, Skulks looked over at them. He smiled, chuckled and then doubled over with laughter as the wizards looked on in consternation.

  “Gentleman!” gasped Skulks through his mock tears of laughter. “I hope you don’t mind, but I have used you for my own practise.” He dabbed at his eyes with a white handkerchief. It had the word ‘Pooky’ clearly embroidered on one corner.

  “Practise?” asked Pook, not quite annoyed, but open to the possibility.

  “I do apologise kind sirs, but I have been working on my new spell of Wizardly Wealth Depletion. It allows me to deprive wizards of their monies, completely circumventing wards and protections!” Skulks blew his nose noisily on the handkerchief.

  “Oh my!” spluttered Trumpy. “That sounds like a jolly unpleasant sort of spell. We wizards are poor enough without you turning our own magic against us!”

  “Forgive me, please,” said Skulks, patting both on the shoulder and returning their coin purses. He also took off the earring and the finger-ring, handing both to their owners. The damp handkerchief had now vanished back into Pook’s pocket. The wizards were looking slightly mollified and more than a bit puzzled.

  “Whatever are you teaching yourself such magics for?” asked Trumpy.

  “To catch a thief, one must learn from a thief!” responded Skulks. “Within the walls of Hardened, there is known to live the most accomplished wizard burglar across all of the three continents. In fact, it is rumoured that he holds high station within the local government!”

  “Gadzooks!” said Pook, trawling his vocabulary to give adequate voice to his dismay at this news. “How could they indulge such an individual within the city? They should have him whipped and expelled!”

  “This individual appears to be well-liked within certain circles and his mischief is tolerated. It is therefore certain that he will be preying upon us poor magic-users while we are distracted by our Convention. And I,” Skulks paused for effect, “Taniel the Skulktastic, intend to catch him at it!”

  “Bravo!” said Pook and Trumpy at once.

  “There is just one part of my spell that I have yet to perfect,” said Taniel the Skulktastic. “I have been having trouble with the emanations.” Skulks had no idea what terms to use, so he just made it up as he was going. As far as he was aware it was what wizards did anyway and he wasn’t far from the truth in his assumption.

  “You’ve got to watch those emanations,” said Pook, nodding his head wisely.

>   “Can’t have too many emanations, in case it all goes bang,” said Trumpy, joining in with the nonsense.

  “What I need, in order to control my emanations, is another spell that can track the source of my spell. That way I can reverse the main spell and use it to counteract any attempts to track the Wizardly Wealth Depletion back to its caster.” Skulks had no idea if they’d buy it.

  “I know your little game!” said Pook suddenly, making Skulks think he was rumbled. “You’re looking to win the prize for best newcomer at the awards aren’t you?”

  Skulks pretended to look both modest and abashed. “Maybe,” he said coyly. “But I need to find a wizard who can teach me a spell that can track down the caster of a spell, so that I might use it to unearth the vile thief in the midst of this city! Then I might win a prize.” As he was talking, Skulks became aware of a thumping sound in the street outside. The pub was rowdy, so the noise must have been a loud one for him to hear it over the din.

  “Got your eye on that winner’s staff?” asked Trumpy, unaware of the sound.

  “Yes, my old staff only has an ivory tip on it. I’ve had my eye on something a little better for a while.” The thumping continued to get closer. It sounded like footsteps.

  “Well, today is your lucky day, Taniel, for I, Pookonimus Ro-Ro Gherkin Smasher have just such a spell and I may be persuaded to teach it to you, should you have the aptitude to learn it.”

  “Master Pookonimus, you would be doing me a great service were you to do so, as well as showing your support for junior wizards.”

  Pook took on a faraway look as he remembered his days as a junior wizard. Peeling potatoes for the old man in his village, who would teach him a smattering of hedge magic in return for Pook doing his household chores. It had taken Pook many years to find a wizard willing to teach him properly, and, though she hadn’t adopted the name Mrs Ro-Ro Gherkin Smasher, his teacher was now his wife. With a sentimental glisten in his eyes, he turned to Taniel.

  “I shall teach you this spell right here and right now!” he exclaimed. “For there is little to it and I’m sure you can learn it easily.” The thumping noise outside had stopped, right outside the front door of The Wizard’s Repose.

  “Firstly, I need a spell of some sort to use as an example,” Pook continued, dropping into his kindly lecturer tones. “What spell would you like to use?”

  At that moment, the door of the tavern was thrust open and a head looked inside. This would not have been unusual in itself, except on this occasion the head was the size of Skulks’ torso and the shoulders carrying it could not fit through the door. The head wore the face of a man, though it had pudgy flesh hanging down in folds around its eyes, making it look as if it hadn’t slept in a month. The mouth was slack and drooling, with discoloured, square, peg-like teeth visible within. Knowing who it was looking for, Skulks pointed at the drooling creature.

  “That spell, please!”

  “Oh,” said Pook, watching as the head slowly scanned the occupants of the tavern. Most of the wizards put their heads down in hope that it wasn’t looking for them, whilst several scrambled underneath tables. A few of the braver ones kept their options open, preparing their wards against whatever it might be that was looking through the tavern door.

  “Show me now,” Skulks said in what he hoped was a calming voice, for he could see Pook’s feet starting to sidle away of their own volition.

  “Yes, the spell of spell re-tracking,” said Pook. “You wiggle your fingers like this and you waggle your arms like that and you say the magic words.” Pook made a mumbling sound which Skulks’ ears couldn’t make head nor tail of, but which his Wielding was able to absorb on his behalf.

  “Have you got it?” asked Pook. The head was now looking directly at him and Skulks.

  “I think so,” said Skulks. “Wiggle my fingers like this. Waggle my arms like that. And say the magic words.”

  Skulks found himself casting the spell, though he felt slightly grubby for doing so. He pointed at the head in the doorway and at once he felt a strange tugging on his arm as the spell of re-tracking attempted to show him where the magics behind the creature had come from. He was not able to follow its guidance immediately, for the only doorway was blocked.

  “YOU!” spoke the head, the word loud and slurred.

  “Me?” asked Trumpy.

  “NO! HIM!” said the head.

  “Are you referring to me?” asked Pook.

  “NO! HIM!” said the head once more.

  Another wizard in magnificent purple robes got to his feet. “I say, this could take a very long time, for there are a lot of people in this tavern. Can you be more specific as to who this mysterious ‘HIM’ is? I’d really like to get back to my drink without having to listen to your loud voice!”

  The head was briefly distracted as the wizard spoke. Skulks took the opportunity to take an ale mug from the bar and throw it firmly into the pudgy face. It connected with a clonk, leaving a small cut on its forehead. Skulks did his best to look innocent as the head whipped around, looking directly at him again.

  “HIM!” said the head.

  “Me?” asked another wizard who happened to be directly between the head and Skulks.

  The head was now evidently out of patience, for it was joined by two hands, which reached through the aperture and pulled firmly as it attempted to force entry into the tavern. Though Hardened was not known for the high-quality construction of its buildings, The Wizard’s Repose was more tidily built than most and resisted the creature’s attempts to come within, though the walls creaked alarmingly. Skulks guessed that the owner of the head must be at least fifteen feet tall, whatever it was.

  The bar keep was also the owner of the tavern. Seeing things taking a turn for the worse, he felt it was time to impose his authority on proceedings.

  “Oi, you!” he shouted, pointing at the head. “Get out! You’re barred.” He singled out the wizard who was unfortunate enough to have been between Skulks and the head. “You too, sonny Jim. Out! You’re barred as well!”

  “Sir!” spluttered the wizard, not used to being treated so callously. “I must protest! I have not seen this creature before in my life!”

  “I don’t care. Out! And take your mates with you.”

  Skulks took advantage of the confusion to throw another ale mug off the creature’s head, causing it to grunt as it tried to pull down the wall of the tavern.

  “I thought I just said you were barred!” said the bar keep to the head once more, marching over and pointing outside. The creature ignored him, pushing the tavern door off its hinges, but being thwarted by the strength of the walls for the time being. The broken door landed on the foot of a nearby wizard, who jumped up, spontaneously conjuring a pair of thickset hounds from his repertoire in a knee-jerk reaction to the pain in his foot. The hounds leapt at the creature in the doorway, which managed to bat one away, while the other fastened itself to the wide nose. The hound growled furiously as it worried the nose this way and that.

  Meanwhile, the other hound, confused by the noise and the batting it had received, bit another wizard on his tender cheeks, tearing away a clump of his new robes and leaving his buttocks exposed, much to the merriment of those on the surrounding tables. Not pleased, for he’d planned to wear these robes to the Convention, the wizard cast the hound away from him with a repulsion spell. The hound hurtled through the air, catching two mages with glancing blows and triggering their defensive wards. Four baboons and a crocodile appeared as wards sprung to the defence of their casters.

  One of the baboons immediately set upon the man nearest to him, stealing his hat and drinking his ale. Two other baboons attacked the crocodile, while the last one flailed away at an elderly wizard who had just come out for a spot of fresh air and a sneaky pint without his wife’s knowledge. Though infirm of body, his mind was intact and he dismissed the baboon with a double-dose of green sparks from his hand, charring fur and killing the poor animal outright.

 
By now, the crocodile had eaten one baboon and had the other by the arm. The half-eaten monkey howled and thrashed, catching another wizard off-guard with a random punch. Angered, this wizard escalated the situation by throwing a fireball at the baboon. His aim was good for the fireball blasted the unlucky baboon, but the heat triggered several more sigils and wards on his colleagues nearby. Within moments, the floor of the tavern was awash with baboons, hounds, a pig and two enormous, muscular snakes, one of which had already swallowed an unsuspecting wizard in his entirety.

  As Skulks, Pook and Trumpy stood at the bar, the former gleeful and the latter two in horror, the snake exploded in a shower of blood and organs, leaving the swallowed wizard alive and gasping for breath in a red pool on the floor.

  “This doesn’t look good,” said Pook, giving voice to an understatement of magnificent proportions.

  The sound of voice could be heard, trying to project itself over the tumult. “Lads, lads! Calm it down please! I’ve just had the place done out!”

  The bar keep’s words were to no avail, for by now spells of every conceivable colour were flying across the room. There was a snowstorm in one corner, while the other side of the room was ablaze, scaring summoned animals into a panic. As their primal instincts took over, they tried to force their way past the head which had been quite forgotten in the chaos. The creature roared in pain as the hound on its nose was joined by a Rhultian mountain lion, a pig and a flock of rabid demi-chickens.

  While the city of Hardened was accustomed to seeing the unusual, there were not many eighteen-feet tall giants known to live within its boundaries. As such, a few citizens, concerned for the wellbeing of their fellow inhabitants had summoned assistance, which had now arrived in the form of Captain Jives Honey and a contingent of men from the army who had been barracked near to the Heavenly Snouts. As the giant struggled with attacks to its front, it was further assailed to the rear, for Captain Honey judged it best to stab first and ask questions of the corpse later. With ten soldiers probing its flesh using their freshly-sharpened swords, the giant withdrew from The Wizard’s Repose, the better to defend itself. A powerful arm hurled the lion into the air, where it landed safely upon a nearby roof. Thinking to make good its escape, the lion fled across the rooftops, little knowing it would be cornered and slaughtered within the week, for Hardened was not tolerant of Rhultian mountain lions eating its citizens.