Spellwright

“Yes, well, keep pestering Sha

“I believe so, Magister.”

Smallwood stood. “Very well, very well. Thank you, Nicolas; it is good to meet you. You may go.”

“Nicodemus, Magister.”

“Yes, yes, Nicodemus, of course.” He paused. “Pardon me, but did you say Nicodemus Weal?”

“Yes, Magister.”

Smallwood studied Nicodemus with a focused intensity. “Of course,” the grand wizard said at last, suddenly earnest. “Foolish of me to forget you, Nicodemus. Thank you for the message. You may go.”

Nicodemus bobbed his head and retreated. He hurried to the hallway’s end and then ducked into a narrow spiral staircase. Sha

But he was blind to their beauty.

His thoughts were troubled by what Smallwood had said about Sha

Nicodemus bit his lip. Smallwood was famously absentminded; it was possible that he was mistaking old rumors for new.

But if that was the case, what exactly had Smallwood been misremembering when he mentioned Sha

Nicodemus turned to mount a narrow staircase.

Sha

Reaching the oak doors at the top of the stairs, Nicodemus pushed them open and looked out on the gray slate tiles that paved the yard of the Stone Court.

Centuries ago, the Neosolar Empire had renovated the courtyard after taking Starhaven from the Chthonic people. However, none of the succeeding occupying kingdoms had built over this aspect of the stronghold.

Consequently, the Stone Court demonstrated the classical architecture so common to Starhaven’s Imperial Quarter: walls decorated by molded white plaster, arched doorways, wide windows. Each entryway was flanked by a pair of stone obelisks.

However, because of the Stone Court ’s remote location, the wizards had filled it with several objects too unsightly to reside in Starhaven’s more populous quarters.

A forest of Dralish standing stones stood in the courtyard’s center. On its eastern edge loitered two marble statues of Erasmus and one of Uriel Bolide. And everywhere-curled up, sprawled out, or lying on any available stone ledge-were sleeping janitorial gargoyles.

Nicodemus started for the Drum Tower, which abutted the court’s eastern limit. But as he went, he saw something move within the stone forest.

He stopped.

The movement had been too quick to be that of a janitorial gargoyle. And no neophyte should be awake so late. Perhaps it was a feral cat?

It came again: a pale blur between two standing stones. Apprehension gripped Nicodemus. Wizards wore only black. Cloth of any other color signified an outsider… or an intruder.

Starhaven’s many towers hid the blue and black moons, but the gibbous white moon hung directly overhead and flooded the court with milky light. As Nicodemus snuck among the standing stones, a crocodile-like gargoyle sleeping on the ground rolled over to regard him with a half-opened eye.

Someone was whispering behind the megalith to Nicodemus’s left. “Who’s there?” he asked in his boldest voice and stepped around the megalith.

Before him stood a short figure robed in white cloth. It spun around with inhuman speed.

CHAPTER Four

Magister Sha

“Quite all right; I’m always up,” Smallwood said with his usual warmth. Sha

“But I’m surprised you’re awake,” Smallwood added. “I didn’t think you were a night owl.”

Sha

“Guardian spells,” Smallwood said with a disdainful sniff. “Sloppy prose, if you ask me, written with too much sensitivity. Likely they were chasing a feral cat that wandered in from the uninhabited quarters.”

“That was my first thought. I came here to look up a few things about editing the guardians’ sensitivity. But then my apprentice appeared; seems he heard someone ru

When Sha

“What? Yes, yes, of course,” Smallwood replied and clapped the green rectangles together. “So you think one of the delegates might be sneaking about the roofs?”

Sha

“But spying on the Drum Tower? I know the cacographers are close to your heart, but shouldn’t intrigue focus elsewhere? The Main Library, say, or the provost’s quarters?”

“Precisely what worries me.”

Smallwood coughed. “Agwu, might you be overreacting? I know you were more… involved in Astrophell, but this is Starhaven.”

Sha

Smallwood continued. “Perhaps the Astrophell delegates have put you on edge? Brought back the old instincts?”

“Perhaps but unlikely,” Sha

It sounded as if Smallwood were shuffling his feet. “Tonight?”

Sha

“Tonight it is, then. I am grateful you’ve included me in this research.”

Sha

The rectangle of green prose floated back up to its proper place: Smallwood was reshelving the book. “Is Azure about?”

Sha

“Pity,” Smallwood said, his voice heading for the door. “I wanted to see her Numinous dialect again. Agwu, before I go… do I remember correctly that your apprentice was thought to be the Halcyon?”

“You do.”

Smallwood continued hesitantly. “Your fear that… I mean, perhaps you’re jumping to conclusions.” He paused. “Let me ask it this way: Do you think Nicodemus is the one of prophecy?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Good, good, of course.” The door latch clicked. “I’ll have the guardian spells cast within an hour. I’ll see you tomorrow after midday?”

“Indeed,” Sha

“Quite welcome, Agwu. Quite welcome.” The door clicked shut.

Puffing out his cheeks, Sha