The City of Ravens by Richard Baker Read Free Book Online Page A

expensive carriage ride! he lamented), then returned to the city and dined at the Cracked Tankard. Following that, he called on Ontrodes to see if the sage had made any progress in the Sarkonagael riddle, but the old sot hadn’t even started to look into it yet— he was too busy working on Zandria’s dwarven runes. When Jack complained, Ontrodes pointed out that she paid him in real coin, while Jack simply promised a flask of brandy and would undoubtedly deliver the cheapest and most miserable brew he could pour into a nice-looking flask. So Jack returned to his rooms in Burnt Gables and went to bed.
    The next morning brought a cool, steady wind off the Inner Sea and a gentle rain that promised to last all day. Jack foraged through his larder for something to eat, discovering a wheel of cheese and a small barrel half full of last fall’s apples, now sweet and wrinkled. While he ate, he considered his next move. He decided to press forward with his investigations on Elana’s behalf. This time, he would go straight to the source.
    When he finished his breakfast, Jack turned
    his attention to his closets. His rooms comprised half of the loft of a warehouse stocking sail canvas, barrels of pitch, great reels of rope, and dozens of other items useful to the Ravenaar shipyards and provisioners. It was an odd arrangement; Jack paid nothing for the space, and in return he was obligated to guard the warehouse from others of his profession. Since no self-respecting thief would try to carry off loot such as planks or ballast stones, he didn’t have to work too hard to protect the place. Jack had furnished a fairly comfortable and well-appointed apartment in the building’s upper story, and if the place was stiflingly hot in the summertime and intolerably drafty in winter, it was free.
    The warehouse offered one other virtue Jack enjoyed—it provided ample storage for anything he stole and wanted to keep. He had almost a dozen closets stuffed full of various knickknacks and odds and ends he’d pilfered. Jack systematically searched through his closets for attire suitable for a visit to the Wizards’ Guild, and found a heavy rune-embroidered robe of dark blue brocade over fine cotton. He pulled the robe on over a pair of baggy red breeches and pointed Calimshite slippers, adding a simple red fez to complete the outfit.
    “I need a dangerous-looking staff,” he muttered, critically examining his appearance in the mirror.
    He settled for an iron rod about two feet in length, capped by a serpent’s head of copper. He formed a simple spell and placed an invisible rune on the serpent rod, so that it would seem to be magically enchanted if examined by anyone who could detect such things. Then, with one more adjustment to his fez, he trotted down the rickety stairs out into the streets.
    “I am a formidable wizard,” he said aloud. “I have urgent business at the High House of the guild. Delay me at your peril!” No one was close enough to note his
    words. Adopting an expression of stern determination, he stomped off toward the Uptown district.
    The High House of Magic was a large building of black stone, designed to resemble a castle in strength and majesty despite its surroundings. It was simply a well-made hall with false turrets and a decorative parapet, but the structure loomed over its neighboring buildings, a stodgy old gaffer knee-deep in disrespectful children. Without hesitation, Jack bounded up the short flight of steps leading to the front door, taking them two at a time. Then he hammered his iron rod against the door in the most imperious fashion he could imagine.
    “Open up at once!” he cried. “The Dread Delgath demands admittance this very instant!”
    The door opened slowly, with a monotonous creaking of wood. A wizened old porter stood there, squinting up at him (quite a feat, considering Jack’s own modest stature). “Eh? What do you want here?”
    “The Dread Delgath has come to grace your impoverished