sandwiched between pieces of waxed paper. He rolled it out on the table and studied it.
The rubbing showed a detailed carving or relief from some unknown source. A smiling sun-face looked down on a vineyard, bordered by an elaborate scrollwork of curling leaves. In the center was stamped a dwarven mark that Jack didn’t recognize. And, in a banner across the bottom, a string of impenetrable dwarven runes was carved. Fortunately, someone had taken the time to record a translation in a different hand beneath the dwarven writing:
“Other hands must take up my work Other eyes my works behold At the center of all the thirty-seventh Girdled by the leaves of autumn Mark carefully the summer staircase
and climb it clockwise thrice Order emerges from chaos; the answer made clear.”
“What an obtuse riddle,” Jack muttered. He found a piece of blank parchment and set it over the top of the charcoal rubbing; then he worked an old spell he knew. Under the soft chaotic energies of Jack’s sorcery, the blank parchment began to darken and smudge, taking on every detail of the rubbing exactly as it appeared in Zandria’s parchment. Whistling under his breath, Jack folded the new copy and stuffed it into his robe. Then he picked up the scroll tube and started to replace the mage’s rubbing.
“Put that down at once!”
Zandria stood in the doorway, Meritheus and the librarian at her side. She raised her hands to work some spell of great destructive potential, but the two Guild wizards restrained her in a panic.
“Please, my lady, the books!” the librarian cried.
“You must respect the sanctity of our fellowship!” Meritheus added. “Guild members do not engage in spell-slinging within these walls.”
“Bugger the Guild!” Zandria shrieked. “He’s been rooting through my books! If you don’t want me to incinerate him in your precious library, you’d better get him out of here this very minute!”
Meritheus looked at Jack. “Master Delgath, it is now well past noon. If you please, affiliate members must confine their visits to the library to the morning hours.”
“The Dread Delgath does not care for your petty rules and bylaws,” Jack replied, “but in the interests of fostering good relations with his lesser fellows, he shall now absent himself from the premises.” He paused and then added, “He also wishes for you to look into the rude behavior of one Zandria, who has offered the Dread Delgath nothing but contempt and suspicion despite his earnest efforts to assist her.”
“The Dread Delgath would be well advised not to press his luck,” Meritheus observed dryly.
He stepped aside and indicated the door with a jerk of his thumb. Jack gathered his robes about him with the greatest dignity he could muster, and then strode out of the room without even a glance at Zandria, who glared at him with undisguised loathing.
Jack tried not to notice how quickly the doorman hustled him out into the street, and he paid no attention to the rather authoritative boom! of the door slamming shut behind him. He patted his breast pocket and set off for home.
***
After a sparse lunch of black bread and sharp cheese at the Cracked Tankard, Jack headed back to his apartment to change his clothes. He threaded his way through the mid-afternoon hustle and bustle of the Anvil without even noticing, his mind working on the various riddles before him. Many of the streets were so choked with wagon traffic and long lines of porters carrying heavy burdens that other pedestrians were forced to detour blocks out of their way to get around the crowds.
While he walked, he considered his next step. Illyth Fleetwood expected his presence at the Game of Masks later in the evening, but he had most of the afternoon free. He could inquire after the belongings of the mage Durezil using some of the same sources he’d checked out when he was looking for Gerard, or he could buy a flagon of strong drink for Ontrodes and see if the old sage
The rubbing showed a detailed carving or relief from some unknown source. A smiling sun-face looked down on a vineyard, bordered by an elaborate scrollwork of curling leaves. In the center was stamped a dwarven mark that Jack didn’t recognize. And, in a banner across the bottom, a string of impenetrable dwarven runes was carved. Fortunately, someone had taken the time to record a translation in a different hand beneath the dwarven writing:
“Other hands must take up my work Other eyes my works behold At the center of all the thirty-seventh Girdled by the leaves of autumn Mark carefully the summer staircase
and climb it clockwise thrice Order emerges from chaos; the answer made clear.”
“What an obtuse riddle,” Jack muttered. He found a piece of blank parchment and set it over the top of the charcoal rubbing; then he worked an old spell he knew. Under the soft chaotic energies of Jack’s sorcery, the blank parchment began to darken and smudge, taking on every detail of the rubbing exactly as it appeared in Zandria’s parchment. Whistling under his breath, Jack folded the new copy and stuffed it into his robe. Then he picked up the scroll tube and started to replace the mage’s rubbing.
“Put that down at once!”
Zandria stood in the doorway, Meritheus and the librarian at her side. She raised her hands to work some spell of great destructive potential, but the two Guild wizards restrained her in a panic.
“Please, my lady, the books!” the librarian cried.
“You must respect the sanctity of our fellowship!” Meritheus added. “Guild members do not engage in spell-slinging within these walls.”
“Bugger the Guild!” Zandria shrieked. “He’s been rooting through my books! If you don’t want me to incinerate him in your precious library, you’d better get him out of here this very minute!”
Meritheus looked at Jack. “Master Delgath, it is now well past noon. If you please, affiliate members must confine their visits to the library to the morning hours.”
“The Dread Delgath does not care for your petty rules and bylaws,” Jack replied, “but in the interests of fostering good relations with his lesser fellows, he shall now absent himself from the premises.” He paused and then added, “He also wishes for you to look into the rude behavior of one Zandria, who has offered the Dread Delgath nothing but contempt and suspicion despite his earnest efforts to assist her.”
“The Dread Delgath would be well advised not to press his luck,” Meritheus observed dryly.
He stepped aside and indicated the door with a jerk of his thumb. Jack gathered his robes about him with the greatest dignity he could muster, and then strode out of the room without even a glance at Zandria, who glared at him with undisguised loathing.
Jack tried not to notice how quickly the doorman hustled him out into the street, and he paid no attention to the rather authoritative boom! of the door slamming shut behind him. He patted his breast pocket and set off for home.
***
After a sparse lunch of black bread and sharp cheese at the Cracked Tankard, Jack headed back to his apartment to change his clothes. He threaded his way through the mid-afternoon hustle and bustle of the Anvil without even noticing, his mind working on the various riddles before him. Many of the streets were so choked with wagon traffic and long lines of porters carrying heavy burdens that other pedestrians were forced to detour blocks out of their way to get around the crowds.
While he walked, he considered his next step. Illyth Fleetwood expected his presence at the Game of Masks later in the evening, but he had most of the afternoon free. He could inquire after the belongings of the mage Durezil using some of the same sources he’d checked out when he was looking for Gerard, or he could buy a flagon of strong drink for Ontrodes and see if the old sage
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