stood up and turned. “It’s time for supper and sleep. We have a long ride tomorrow, and Hobart will want to make an early start.”
Angus rose and nodded, letting the magic finally slip away. “Lead on,” he said, falling in stride behind him.
3
Angus stirred his stew around with the spoon Ortis had given him. It was a strange but edible concoction of bits of meat, chunks of a root he didn’t recognize, berries, and plant leaves. It was bland, no hint of seasoning at all—much different from the food served at the inns. Perhaps if he had eaten them separately? Meat first, then the roots and leaves, finishing up with the mild tartness of the berries? But they were mixed together, and—
“I hope it isn’t that bad,” Ortis said.
“No,” Angus said. “Just different.”
“This road is traveled too much for better,” another Ortis noted. “Most of the more appealing plants have been scavenged, and few animals live near enough to the road for hunting. We—” the third Ortis took over as the second one took a bite and the first swallowed “—are fortunate it isn’t caravan season. The road gets stripped bare when they pass through.”
Angus nodded. “I am grateful for the stew,” he said. “I just have a lot to think about right now.”
“Yes,” Hobart agreed. “We all do. We still need to decide where to go after we drop Teffles’ body off at the temple.”
“I thought we were spending a few days in Hellsbreath,” Giorge said.
Hobart nodded and filled his mouth again. “After that,” he said as he chewed.
“We’ll decide that once Angus joins us,” Giorge said.
Angus looked up at Giorge, noted the whiteness of his eyes and teeth as the firelight flickered on them. They were a sharp contrast to the peculiar orange reflection of Ortis’s eyes. “You seem to have decided that for me,” he said. “What makes you think I will join you?”
“What else are you going to do?” Giorge countered.
“There’s work for wizards in Hellsbreath,” he said. “I had thought to stay there.”
“Bah,” Giorge waved his hand dismissively. “You’ll get bored.”
Angus chuckled. “I’ve spent years living alone in a tower with Voltari. Boredom is a way of life for me.”
“All right then,” Hobart asked between bites. “What do you need to know?”
Angus lifted a spoonful of meat to his mouth and considered while he chewed. Everything? he thought, but dismissed it. Too vague. “Let’s start with you,” he said, pointing his spoon at Ortis. “What are you?”
“I’m a triad,” one of the other Ortises said as the first one met his gaze. “There aren’t very many of us left.” Another of him continued. “We are a single entity,” the third offered. “Our thoughts and experiences are shared.” Then, together, they said, “We are three in one, one in three.”
“I’ve never heard of triads,” Angus said, “and Voltari’s library is extensive.”
“I’m not surprised,” Hobart said. “I’ve traveled across Tyr’s Kingdom and into many of those surrounding it and never encountered another like him.”
“My people scattered centuries ago,” Ortis said. “Most of us are north of the Death Swamps.”
“That’s where we met,” Hobart said. “He staggered out of the Death Swamps one day, and into our bivouac. We took him in, and he provided us with a great deal of useful information.”
“There are lands north of the Death Swamps?” Angus asked. “Voltari’s map didn’t indicate any.”
“You have a map?” Ortis asked. “May I see it?”
“He has an affinity for maps,” Hobart said. “We’ve relied upon his extensive knowledge of them on many occasions.”
“It’s in my backpack,” Angus said. “I’ll show it to you in the morning, before we leave.”
“It will still be dark,” Hobart said. “We won’t be staying the whole night.”
“Then we’ll have to do it when we stop,” Angus said. “I doubt there will be anything on it that you haven’t already seen. It’s a rough depiction of the Kingdom of Tyr and surrounding mountains. There really isn’t much on it.”
“I was hoping to reach Hellsbreath tomorrow night,” Hobart said. “It will be a hard ride.”
Angus frowned, “We will need to stop,” he said. “I will need time to retrieve whatever is secreted in Teffles’ robe.”
“There’s nothing there,” Hobart said. “Giorge would have found it. Right Giorge?” Hobart grinned.
“Well,” Giorge hedged. “I was going to tell you about that.”
Hobart set his spoon in his empty bowl, gulped down what was in his mouth, and said, “You were going to tell us about what?”
“Well,” Giorge began, “Angus said he found something. It’s concealed by magic. Isn’t that what you said?”
“Yes,” Angus said. “Giorge couldn’t have found it even if he had ripped the robe to shreds.”
“See?” Giorge said. “It has to be valuable to be hidden that way.”
“The compartment could be empty,” Angus suggested. “All I saw was the compartment, not what is inside of it.”
“Really?” Giorge said. “That would be so disappointing.”
“When were you two going to tell us about this?” Hobart demanded.
Angus shrugged. “After I found out if there was something there.”
“Why didn’t you look?” Ortis asked. “You had time.”
Angus nodded pointedly at Giorge. “The stench,” he said.
“Nonsense,” Ortis said. “The smell will be tolerable for at least another day or two.”
“The horses,” Angus said.
“They’re stout mountain stock,” Hobart said. “What of them?”
“Giorge said the smell would disturb them—and our neighbors.”
Hobart stood up and said, “Why don’t you show me what you’re talking about, Angus.” When Giorge began to rise, Hobart tossed him his bowl and spoon. “You can stay here, Giorge. Someone needs to tend to the dishes.”
Angus stood, handed Giorge his bowl, picked up his backpack, and followed Hobart across the campsite until they stood over Teffles’ corpse. One of Ortis joined them. The robe had been loosened, as if someone had taken it off the corpse and put it back on. “Giorge,” Hobart muttered. “We have to watch him pretty closely; he has twitchy fingers. Are you sure he couldn’t find it?”
Angus sighed, brought the magic into focus, and knelt down. He opened the robe until Teffles’ arm flopped free. He peeled back the sleeve and studied the knot holding the compartment closed. It was a simple enough knot, one that could be opened with a quick little jerk and retied almost as quickly. He reached out for it and tugged sharply. The compartment opened, and magical energy erupted from it. He reached in and touched a small, cylindrical device and pulled it out. The magic within it pulsed, unable to escape the carefully constructed sequence of knots binding it to the magic within the object. He lifted it and let the magic slide away—whatever it did, it would take a considerable amount of time for him to decipher it; for now, it was enough to know that it was there.
“A wand?” Hobart muttered, reaching out with his mailed paw.
Angus jerked it away and said, “Don’t touch it. We don’t know what it does, and if you accidentally trigger it, anything could happen.”
Hobart looked skeptical but retracted his arm. “All right,” he said. “What do we do with it?”
Angus frowned. It looked fragile—a thin piece of ivory carved into a ten-inch column whose girth was little more than the quill he used for writing. Runes and sigils were etched in a spiral down most of its length, the same pattern of three repeated several times. “For now,” he said, “I’ll carry it. When we get to Hellsbreath, I should be able to find out what it does. If not, there will be other wizards there who will be able to do it—for a price.” He slipped it into his sleeve and secured it with a pair of clasps that seemed to have been made for just such a purpose.
Hobart frowned. “Angus,” he warned. “You are not yet a part of this banner. That wand does not belong to you.”
“Nor to you,” Angus countered. “It was Teffles’ wand.”
“Yes,” Hobart said, “and he’s dead. He had no heirs as far as we know, so his equipment became the property of King Tyr upon his death. Of course,” he hedged. “As a banner representing his interests, we have an obligation to tend to it until such time that we can present it to him.”
Angus tilted his head, half-smiled, and said, “Nevertheless, I am the only one present who is qualified to tend to it.”
“Perhaps,” Hobart agreed, “but you are not yet a member of this banner. It is not your concern.”
“Let’s return to discuss this with the others, shall we?” Angus said. “I understand Giorge found a book in Teffles’ possession, and I would like to look through it.” He rose to his feet.
“What kind of book?” Hobart asked.
“Probably a book of spells,” Angus said.
“We will consider it,” Hobart said, rising. “Only so far as to find out what the book is.”
As they walked back to the fire, Angus asked, “What else does your banner do besides hunting wolves?”
“Lots of things,” Hobart said. “We’ve explored ruins, of course; every banner does that. It’s often the best place to find treasure. Unfortunately, every banner knows that too, so most of the ones in Tyr have already been ransacked. Not all of the banners are thorough, though; we’ve found a few things that have been overlooked. That’s why we’re over here.”
Angus frowned. “I don’t understand,” he said. “Are there