As Triand had predicted, the way to Prey had taken over a week. Iwy was glad when, after wandering the mountain-fenced region for so long, one morning at dawn the mage made her climb a hill to look down into the valley and see lights that derived from civilisation.

  Prey had been built at the end of the valley, a stone’s throw away from the banks of a lake that looked more like some creator god’s apprentice had accidentally dropped an ocean. The locals called it Lake Familiar, which was not ominous at all. Roads leading around either side of the lake and one from the valley were the only ways in and out of the city.

  It didn’t take long to discover that Prey was a postcard city; better seen from far away. It was the polar opposite of the surrounding valley. The sight of the dark wooden rooftops, worn limestone walls, broken roads, and a fog that wouldn’t clear even at noon immediately dragged at Iwy’s mood. She couldn’t see why a wizarding Order had decided to settle here.

  Triand didn’t seem to want to lose any time and Iwy couldn’t blame her; she noticed people looking at them. Well, people always looked at strangers, and more importantly at wizards, and even more importantly at Triand, but these stares were different.

  This sanctum of the Order was the opposite of Riestra, an unwelcoming grey stone abbey with seven thin, round towers piercing the sky. Small windows were scattered around the walls, along with symmetric holes for archers and artillery or, knowing wizards, something more destructive. Iwy wondered uneasily why the architect had felt that was necessary.

  The gate held enormous wooden doors, as dark as the stone. When Triand knocked, Iwy prepared herself for this to go over about as well as in Riestra.

  She didn’t get a chance to find out, because no one answered. Triand tried again. The building remained silent.

  “Come on ...”

  A third knock.

  Triand sighed heavily.

  “Know anyone at the backdoor you can bribe?” Iwy asked, almost hopeful.

  “Not really. What says we find a place to stay the night and try again later?”

  The street had become busier as the morning dragged on. The stares never left them and Iwy tried to pay them no mind.

  Someone bumped into Triand as he passed, and she grabbed his shoulder before he could get away. Iwy expected an argument and braced herself.

  “Eliphas?” Triand pulled the man into a laughing embrace, which he returned.

  The man was clad in blue robes only a few shades darker than his eyes, the sleeve hems frayed. He carried a staff overcarved with symbols. His pepper-and-salt hair was cut short in the Northern style, his beard trimmed close to the skin. Someone other than Iwy would have thought he looked quite attractive. The warmth of their greeting made her wonder if he was Triand’s brother, then she remembered she had never mentioned any siblings.

  “What are you doing here, I heard you moved away. How are you? How’s the husband?”

  The man named Eliphas scratched the back of his neck. He seemed pleasantly surprised, but a little overwhelmed. “Oh, that, well ... we parted a while ago.”

  “Oh, damn, I’m sorry. You were so good together.”

  “I know, but you know ... we wanted different things in life.” He navigated them to the side of the street so they wouldn’t be in the way of the city’s mid-morning buzz.

  “This is Iwy, my apprentice.”

  “Hello.” Iwy shook his offered hand. She noticed Eliphas was the first one who didn’t laugh when Triand introduced her as her apprentice.

  “Wait, don’t tell me. That accent ... Ocrance, right?”

  “Close, Riansfield. You know anyone in the Midlands?”

  “I have a second cousin in Ocrance. Maybe you know her? Witberta?”

  “The farrier? Yeah, I met her once or twice.”

  He turned to Triand. “I can’t even believe you’re here. How are you? What brings you to Prey again?”

  “I need the library.”

  His smile was a bit wary. “Thought of a new spell?”

  “Sort of. But right now, no one’s home. Do you know anyone who could let us in?”

  “I can.”

  “You can?”

  “I’m assembling the works of Gurtrama the Scholar and Atusior the Elder. I can come and go as I please as long as the library’s open.”

  Triand boxed him on the shoulder in appreciation. “You’ve come far.”

  “Well ... the Archmage took pity on me after, uh ... I didn’t make it up the ranks fast enough.”

  “You still got some time. But that’s great. We’ll go get a room somewhere and we can meet later.”

  He laughed as he took her free hand. “No, you’re not, you’re staying with me. Save your money. I’ve got room to spare ... you know, after Ilram and I split. It’s been a bit lonely.” Eliphas held Triand at arm’s length and looked her up and down. “And anyway, you look like you’ve been on the road for months.”

  “We don’t want to trouble you ...”

  “You’re no trouble. It’ll be like back at Riestra.”

  “You remember I scorched the ceiling once?”

  “And you tried to douse the flame with your last beer, I remember. Come on.”

  Eliphas lived close to the sanctum, in a house that looked much too ordinary for a wizard. It was a timber-framed construction with two floors built around a small patio. The slanted roof sported a large round window; Iwy thought she spotted a telescope through the rain-stained glass.

  The inside was gloomy until Eliphas lit the fireplace in the main room with a gesture. The light revealed half a dozen dark bookshelves crowding around a wooden table that had been taken hostage by a number of hastily wrapped scrolls, and an overladen writing desk in a corner.

  He led them upstairs and had them put their bags in the guest room, which was opposite his own. It had only one large bed meant for two, and Triand told Iwy to feel free to construct a barrier out of pillows.

  They had the street window. Iwy looked down to see two or three passers-by outside looking up. They might be the talk of the neighbourhood.

  “I like what you’ve done with the place,” Triand said, exploring the house without any restraint.

  “Well, it’s missing a few of your signature touches, like holes burned in the curtains,” Eliphas said with the kind of sarcasm that was a declaration of love between old friends.

  “We can add that,” she called from down the hall while he led Iwy to the kitchen.

  “The bath is down there and if you want to do laundry I have a tub in the basement.”

  “Thanks.”

  The kitchen was a large, white-washed room with a good-sized fireplace at the end of it. The scrubbed oak table in front of it could seat six. She looked up; Eliphas kept all his provisions in baskets under the ceiling, just like back home.

  He lit the fireplace in the kitchen with a wave of his hand. Iwy almost wished it was this easy for her.

  “If you’re hungry or anything, the pantry’s all yours.”

  “Thanks. I eat a lot, though.”

  Eliphas smiled. “Oh, to be that age again. Just help yourself.”

  “Look what I found!” Triand leaned in the kitchen doorway, swinging a bottle. “You didn’t tell me about the wine cellar.”

  Eliphas sighed, but he sounded amused. “She’s been here five minutes and she’s found the booze.”

  “She’s good at that,” Iwy said before she could stop herself, but the comment earned an appreciative chuckle from Eliphas.

  Triand uncorked the bottle without asking and took a swig. Eliphas didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he looked as if this was expected. “Leave some for the rest of us, will you?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Can I persuade you to use a glass?”

  “Only for you.”

  He selected one from a shelf and wiped the dust off. “You should eat something with that.”

  Triand filled her glass to the brim. “You sound like Iwy.”

  “He’s right, you know,” Iwy said.

  “You sound like him.”

  “How about you two get settled, and then we all go for lunch and see about the library?” Eliphas suggested. “What do you need there?”

  “History section.”

  “They shouldn’t have a problem with that. I’ll help you. It’s been a while since we did research together.”

  Iwy had a sudden vision of the both of them sitting in the vast library of Riestra and Triand waving the most outlandish titles she could find in his face.

  “How come no one’s there?” Triand asked over her glass.

  “They are there, but they ignore anyone they don’t know.”

  “I’ve been here before. They might remember me at least a little.”

  “Well, that’s another matter. They’re a bit ... careful.”

  Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Iwy looked sideways at her master. “Did you blow something up here, too?”

  Triand scratched her chin, earnestly considering the question. “No. Not that I remember. Well, guess we better go freshen up. Iwy, you can have the bath first.”

  “Alright. To the left, was it?”

  Eliphas followed her, and Iwy threw him a quizzical look.

  “Oh, right, sorry. Triand hasn’t told you, has she?”

  “Told me what?”

  Instead of answering, the wizard rolled up his sleeves and held his hand out over the wooden tub. Water rose in it as he weaved his fingers left and right. This was a much more useful power than hers. But aloud Iwy just said, “Neat.”

  Eliphas chuckled. “At university we never used the well. Take your time.” He handed her a towel and closed the door behind him.

  Triand meanwhile had looted some titles from the private library and had taken them and her wine bottle over to the kitchen table. Eliphas leaned in the doorway, a smile spreading over his face. “See something you like or just browsing?”

  “Why do you need to know so much about the benefits of locally sourced crystals, are you getting weird in your old age?”

  “It’s a new technique. It might ... it might help.”

  He sat down next to her. She patted his hand. “And does it?”

  “I’m not sure.” He put his arm around her shoulder. “You being here might. I missed you, you know. You’re hard to reach the way you hop from one place to the next.”

  “You know, I’ve completely forgotten how it feels when someone’s glad to see me.”

  “Send my roof flying into the lake like back with my dorm room and I won’t be glad for long.”

  “That was one time.”

  “Wouldn’t have happened if you’d listened to me. I told you you can’t make your own arcane blast infused brandy in a tub in a dorm room.”

  She boxed his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine. I’m getting there.”

  “Wanna tell me about Ilram?”

  “There’s nothing to tell, really. He’s gone back home to Cirrane.”

  “I’m sorry. You always seemed so happy.”

  “Happiness is a fleeting anomaly.”

  “Don’t get all melancholic on me or I’ll have to distract you. You know my distractions.”

  Iwy returned from the bathroom, wearing the old trousers and the shirt she’d bought. “Water’s still warm,” she said to Triand, dragging the towel over her wet hair. “I feel so much better.”

  “Yes, travelling by foot can take it out of you,” Eliphas nodded. “Why didn’t you rent a cart?”

  Triand shrugged. “No money, too many people to bribe.” She took the half-empty wine bottle with her.

  Eliphas turned to Iwy. “Hungry?”

  “I can wait.” Her stomach growled like a naftwhale trying to attract a mate.

  Eliphas chuckled again. “Come on. I’ll get you something to hold you over. Triand can take forever to get ready.”

  A plate, a loaf of bread and a block of cheese careened through the kitchen before settling on the table. Iwy tried to ignore her stomach and eat with some table manners.

  Eliphas didn’t seem to mind either way as he moved to sit down across from her. “So. Midlands. Have you ever been this far north?”

  “No. But it’s nice,” Iwy added. “With the lake and all.”

  The wizard threw her a look. “Homesick?”

  “That obvious?”

  “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s quite normal. I still get homesick sometimes myself. Then I remember my work.”

  Iwy was about to ask where he was from but was distracted by half a verse of croaky song from the direction of the bathroom. “How long have you not seen each other? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”

  “No, ask away. I’d say about ... five years now. Yes, that’s when she was here last, when I thought we’d be moving south soon.”

  “It’s nice that you still get along so well.”

  “I know. I don’t see her often, but every time she comes around it’s as if she was never gone.”

  His smile was soft when he talked of her. Iwy began to wonder if her own friendships could stand the test of distance and time. She really ought to write home. “I’ve never seen her like that with anyone. I was beginning to wonder.”

  “True, she doesn’t make friends easily. She’s a wanderer. Can’t stay in one place for too long. Makes it hard to keep in touch with her. She used to write to me, but I never knew where to send a reply to.” Eliphas summoned the water jug. “You probably know her better than me these days, being her apprentice and all.”

  “All I know is that she wants me to learn every kind of magic on this planet.”

  “Has she taught you the beer illusion yet?”

  Iwy nearly choked. “The what?”

  “She once snuck into the cellar at the sanctum at Riestra, grabbed every barrel and conjured an illusion to make it look like they were still there. The student body had a party that night.” They both laughed. “Don’t mind Triand. She’s a bit all over the place but she means well.”

  “She can be a bit much sometimes.”

  “I remember. Does she get overprotective on you?”

  “I don’t think so.” Well, she had saved her once ... twice ... a few times, but she’d also shoved her towards armed robbers, got her arrested, and made her stroke a dragon.

  “Huh. She might actually get soft in her old age.”

  “Was she overprotective of you?”

  “And how. I ... had some trouble fitting in when we first met. She let no one mess with me. Back then it was a bit embarrassing. But I like to think back on it now.”

  Triand returned after a while, looking pretty much no different than before, but her wine bottle was almost empty. Eliphas managed to wrest it from her with the promise that the pub had a better one as he shooed them out the door.

  “Shouldn’t we close the windows?” Iwy asked.

  “No, let some air in. Don’t worry, I have this place secured. No one can come in that I don’t want in here.”

  Eliphas led them to the Stone in the Sword Tavern, a notorious haunt for sanctum students and faculty alike. The current innkeeper was a round and pleasant woman who knew Eliphas well; in fact, she seemed to have unofficially adopted him. She was friendly with the other patrons – who once again looked in their direction with suspicion – but Eliphas had hardly sat down when she patted his shoulder and asked him how he was and if he wasn’t working too hard and when was the last time he’d eaten.

  If you wanted seafood in the Midlands, you had to go to Fallhaven. Bringing anything back home was a task for people who had a fast horse. In Prey, anything that could be found within that enormous lake was fair game for the kettle. This day’s special was fish soup and crab pies. Iwy had two bowls of both, wondering if her appetite would lessen one of these days, seeing as the only work she did was walking and trying to make grass see-through. Eliphas was the complete opposite of her, picking at his pie until Triand nudged him and said something about the usual twenty bites. Kind of like when someone back home was in a melancholic mood and one of the family would make them eat at least a little so they wouldn’t turn ill.

  The tavern was only a few minutes’ walk from the wizarding sanctum, which was a blessing considering the city inhabitants. They might as well have taped their eyeballs to their backs.

  “Why is everyone looking at us?” Iwy whispered out of the corner of her mouth.

  “It’s my ravishing beauty,” Triand said flatly. “Or maybe his. Maybe both.”

  Eliphas leaned closer to them. “There was an attack on the Riestran sanctum. It has people worried. We’re awaiting a delegation from the other sanctums to discuss solutions.”

  “Really?” Triand piped up. “Any idea when they’ll get here? Tomorrow? Day after? Next week?”

  “I don’t know,” Eliphas said, all perplexed eyebrows and calming smile. “Is that important?”

  “Of course not. What are you discussing?”

  “You know, the uh ... the Faceless?”

  “You know about them too?” Iwy cut in.

  “They’re very hard to overlook. Have you met them?”

  “One,” Triand said before Iwy could elaborate. “Actually, I’m surprised it wasn’t more.”

  “Do you ... know anything?” Eliphas asked like someone who would prefer it if the questionee didn’t know anything.

  “Not more than you do,” Triand shrugged.

  Eliphas had begun to fidget with his frayed sleeve hem. “It’s not true, is it?”

  “What?”

  “The Faceless, they’re not really his people, are they?”

  “Unfortunately, I think they are.”

  “I know it’s a difficult topic, but ... are you in contact with Acarald?”

  “No. I left his Circle.”

  “I don’t know what to believe here, I keep hearing he went mad, others saying he’s on the hunt for a magical orb, then some of the Elders said he had a point with something ...”

  “He’s not the man you thought he was.”

  “What does that ...”

  “Not now, Eliphas.”

  They had reached the sanctum, but Eliphas made them take a left turn, walk past the research centre for magical depletion, then performed a small spell at the side of the building and let them in through a smaller door that grew out of a blank wall. “Assistant privileges.”

  They came in directly in front of the library and an old, frail-looking wizard passing through the corridor. Eliphas’ face lit up as he approached the older man. “Head librarian Woras. It’s good I ran into you. These are friends from out of town. They need secondary literature on a history subject. You won’t mind if I help them out for a while?”

  No further introduction was needed as Woras’ ancient face crinkled into immediate interest. “Ah. Of course not. What are you researching?”

  “The history of Peophia and the Order of Uyane, and the Orders that followed,” Triand said, conveniently leaving out most of the truth.

  Woras nodded approvingly. “That’s no small project you picked there. I can recommend you some texts by Eptior the Historian. The great Orelune has written on it as well. She was one of the last people to leave Peophia ...”

  The head librarian recited a long list of possible sources as he led them through the doors into the main hall where the lanterns along the walls and candles on the desks bathed the rows of shelves in gloomy yellow light. The library was not less enormous than the one at the sanctum in Riestra, but it was stuffy like a tomb.

  “Does it work like the library in Riestra?” Iwy asked, squinting, and took the offered candle.

  “More or less,” Eliphas said. “It’s an older spell, so it might not function as well. Oh, and mind the biting books.”

  “Biting?”

  “Special precaution against unauthorised readers,” the head librarian said. “Now, if you’ll follow me, I think I remember where I left Eptior’s scrolls ...”

  They followed behind him along the narrow passage between shelves. The selection seemed a bit more outlandish than at Riestra. Iwy noticed some titles in passing. Dretin University Companion to Extinct Runes. Guidebook of Strange Wonders. Novice’s Compendium of Fundamental Advice on Unknown History. Complete Handbook of Uncommon Performances. An entire section was dedicated to forbidden spells. Well, not so much forbidden as slightly frowned upon, Eliphas explained. They were dangerous to the user and often permanent. Like the rite of Jyataz the Elder that could put objects inside someone’s body and killed anyone trying to retrieve them; the only copy on reversing this had been lost decades ago. Another fine example was the harrowing Otasim’s Folly, devised by Jyataz’ student, which allowed the user access to others’ dreams, often trapping them inside.

  The shelf dedicated to magical pranks was somehow not any more harmless, from temporarily removing the prankee’s bones to a mind-transmit curse that rendered the target’s most embarrassing thoughts readable to everyone in their vicinity. Making the target drop whatever they were holding was comparatively mild.

  Iwy tried to subtly keep an eye out for literature on magical depletion. Maybe she could ask Eliphas later, casually, out of interest.

  A grey-haired librarian in a grey dress was feeding books as they walked past to the history area. She glanced over briefly; she didn’t look like any type of mage, but that wasn’t the sort of judgement you should pass in a wizards’ sanctum lest you ended up as a bubbling heap.

  “We call her Lady Grey,” Eliphas whispered.

  Iwy raised an eyebrow at him. “Because she’s old?”

  “Of course not. We’ve just never seen her wear any other colour.”

  The head librarian supplied them with so many treatises, essays, and plain lists of order members it took the three of them to carry everything to an empty table without an accident. He finally left them alone after emphasising the importance of Yonud the Precise’s tractate “The order of Orders”, which was considered a standard work for any decent historian.

  “So. Peophia,” Eliphas said, readying his writing tools. “Why are you looking at the history of a lost city?”

  “It’s not the city, it’s what was in it,” Triand said.

  “Like? Come on.”

  “The less I tell you, the less you can say under torture.”

  Eliphas gestured at Iwy for help, who shrugged. It wasn’t her place to tell him. She didn’t see why he shouldn’t know, but maybe Triand was right; she might really be keeping him safe.

  Eliphas glanced in every direction before he got up, dragged his staff around them, and tapped the floor three times.

  Triand crossed her arms. “You forgot the ceiling. Again.”

  “Sorry.” He circled his arm over his head three times. “That should do it. No one’s listening in. Won’t you tell me?”

  Iwy could almost hear Triand’s internal debate. “Fine,” she said finally. “He’s after an artefact. I’m gonna destroy it.”

  “What artefact?”

  “It’s called the Eye of Manisum. It’s apparently immensely powerful.”

  “So he has gone mad.”

  “I don’t think so. That’s the scary part.”

  “Do you know where it is? Do you have it?”

  “I know where it is, alright.” Triand’s hand brushed her staff that leaned against the table. She sat up straighter. “Anyway. I’ll get rid of this thing before he gets his rotten fossil hands on it. We’ve found some tales about a crucible that could maybe destroy it. Crucible of Atrius ring a bell?”

  “No.”

  “The crucible used to be in Peophia. I think the Order of Uyane took it with them. You find out which Orders the Uyane turned into. I’ll check if a crucible is mentioned anywhere else around the time. Iwy ...”

  “I’m researching the artefact.”

  Triand blinked. “You’re doing what now?”

  “I want to know everything about this artefact. And I mean everything.”

  “I can tell you that.”

  “How do I know you’re not leaving something out?”

  “You hurt my feelings.”

  Iwy marched off into the shelves.

  Eliphas looked after her and began sorting his pile of literature by date. “I like her. She’s stubborn. Reminds me of you.”

  “She’ll be better than me.”

  “You’re really not going to tell me more about that Eye, are you?”

  “Can’t. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you because you knew too much.”

  “This attack on the Riestran sanctum ... did that have anything to do with you?”

  Triand scratched her head. “Anything, everything, who’s counting?”

  Eliphas nodded, as further prodding seemed futile. “I didn’t think you’d ever take on an apprentice. I thought you hated teaching.”

  “Yeah, well, was a bit of an accident. She has a sort of control problem. Burned down a barn back home, scorched a guy a bit, and you know how people get about that. And with the witch hunters around, you know.”

  “There are witch hunters in the Midlands? We don’t get them up here, thank the gods.”

  “You’re in a city, Eliphas, you don’t know what’s happening in the villages.”

  “I think we’d hear about that, though.” He took in the wealth of scrolls and books strewn across the table. “Well. We have a lot of ground to cover.”