Read Online Fool's Gold by Jon Hollins - Free Book Online

“Thaumatobiology?” she said. Then with a note of pleading. “You don’t…? Not one of you has ever heard of the field?”
    â€œI know what a field is,” said Firkin, a touch indignantly. “Took a shit in one just the other day, so I did.”
    â€œYou work for the dragons?” Lette saw her own slow-growing suspicion writ large on Will’s features.
    Quirk shook her head violently. “For…?” she managed. She still seemed bewildered by this line of questioning. “I
study
dragons.”
    Again the room seemed to stop, everyone trying to process. The fire crackled in the middle of the room now, heat starting to rise.
    â€œ
Study?
” Will still seemed uncertain as to whether he should exchange his hatred for incredulity.
    â€œYes.” Quirk was earnest. “Thaumatobiology. The study of magical flora and fauna.” She looked around at them, seemed to resign herself. “Plants and animals,” she said, a little sadly.
    â€œYou have been studying plants?” Balur seemed outraged by the idea.
    â€œWell, yes.” Quirk nodded. “Very useful area, actually. I mean, if you just talked to Will here, I’m sure he would be full of all sorts of valuable information about crop rotation, and what fields are best for which sort of planting. That sort of information is invaluable. Not to mention the healers who use plants in their poultices. And the dye makers who need to collect the right types of berry. All of them are expert biologists in their own fields. My field just happens to be magical plants. Though really my main interest is thamatofauna… well megathaumatofauna.”
    It was very quiet, but Lette could just make out Balur’s growling. He did not do well with polysyllables. It made him feel like people were trying to get one past him on the grounds that he was foreign.
    â€œSo… really big magical creatures,” Lette hazarded.
    â€œYes,” Quirk said. Lette couldn’t help but feel the woman’s smile was a little patronizing.
    Magical.
Lette thought of those 369 leagues the woman had crossed.
    â€œSo,” said Lette, allowing the dagger to once more slip from its sheath into her palm. “You’re a magician.”
    It made sense now. Quirk wasn’t balanced because she didn’t need to be balanced. She wasn’t quick because she didn’t need to be quick. Her weapon moved as quick as thought, as swift as a whispered word. She could flay them all with her mind.
    Lette’s only hope was a dagger thrown fast enough, unexpected enough.
    â€œOh.” Quirk almost seemed to stumble without actually going anywhere. “No. No not at all. Not in any way, shape, or form. Well, I mean… not anymore anyway. Not now. No.”
    Lette did not allow her arm to slacken for an instant. “Being a magician,” she said, “is not exactly something one can give up.” It would be like giving up being someone who breathed air, or who ate food with their mouth. Magicians just were. Sometimes some member of the Pantheon, be it Lawl, or Cois, or Klink, or Toil, or any other of the fickle bunch would reach down their divine finger and plant it in a mother’s swollen belly. And the child was touched, and would be forever. That was not a palm print that simply washed away.
    â€œI am,” Quirk spoke awkwardly, “reformed. I have stepped away from practicing the magical arts, and now simply study the phenomena in other creatures.”
    Balur hefted his hammer up onto his shoulder. “You are saying that you can be doing magic, but that you are choosing to not be doing it?” To describe his tone as dubious would be like describing the Cois—hermaphroditic god(dess) of love, fertility, and loose morality in general—as being a little bit forward with the ladies.
    Quirk straightened, pushed her shoulders back, held her chin high. Lette thought she was probably