She walked slowly around the room, studying the books. Some were bound in leather, others had bindings of slate or even precious metals. Some books were covered in exotic animal skins, eel, mud dragon, whale, and even human skin. She felt giddy as she walked around and around the room, letting her fingers rub lightly over the ancient tomes. She had everything she needed to defeat her master, she knew that without a doubt. All she needed now was time.
***
The ship had navigated the narrow channel that led from the coast to Brimington Bay.
Offendorl was eager, but his strength was only just returning. He had spent the rest of the voyage resting and eating. The captain of the ship had kept him fed with rich food and wine that wasn’t great, yet wasn’t horrible either. Offendorl had walked the deck every day, trying his best to seem strong, but secretly struggling to maintain the illusion. Offendorl was anxious to get back to the Torr, to regain his true strength and then face Zollin again. So much had slipped through his fingers of late, but he felt certain he could retain everything and more if he could bring the young wizard under his control.
He was ready now to find passage back to the Grand City, and he waited, conserving his strength, at the rail of the ship as the captain oversaw the handling of the jolly boat that would row him from the deep waters of the harbor to the quay. When the boat was ready, Offendorl levitated himself down into the boat from the deck of the ship. The sailors were all too happy to be rid of him. They were a superstitious lot and had done everything to see to Offendorl’s comfort since he had revealed his power to them. They rowed him to shore almost in a frenzy to be rid of him, but Offendorl didn’t mind. In fact, he rather enjoyed it when the mortals around him lived in a state of constant fear.
The elder wizard walked to a nearby rickshaw, which was a light cart with a covered seat pulled by a man on foot that were a common form of transportation in the larger cities of Osla, where just walking down the street could drench a man in sweat during the hottest parts of the day. Offendorl ordered the rickshaw puller to take him to the nicest inn in the city. It took nearly ten minutes, and the man pulling the rickshaw was panting from exertion by the time they arrived.
The inn was an old building, but Offendorl could tell immediately that it was extremely opulent. He was met at the door by a tall man who offered to carry Offendorl’s belongings, but the elder wizard ignored him. Unlike the inns in the north, which were focused around large fireplaces, the common room of this inn was on an elevated platform and the walls were mere panels with hinges at the top so that they could be propped open to let the breeze flow through.
Offendorl was alone in the large room and settled himself into a padded seat. He pulled one of the gold nuggets from a small purse inside his shirt and set it on the table.
A woman appeared in short order with a tall glass of blue crystal, filled with an effervescent beverage. She set the glass on the table and made the gold disappear almost like a traveling illusionist.
“I require a room and a bath,” Offendorl said. “And I want to arrange transportation to the Grand City in the next few days-something comfortable.”
“It will be my pleasure,” the woman said, bowing slightly then hurrying away.
Offendorl sampled the beverage. It was fruity and cool, but not entirely to his liking. Still, he was glad to be off the dreadful ship. The vessel had begun to stink and the tiny cabin he occupied was about to drive him insane. He enjoyed the shady common room of the inn with its view of the surrounding city. It wasn’t taller than the buildings around it, but being elevated from the street level gave Offendorl a sense of familiarity.
Soon the woman returned and led him to a large room with marble floors and long brass tubs filled with water.
“Do you prefer a cool refreshing bath, or a hot relaxing soak?” she asked.
“Give me something cool,” he said. “And have these clothes washed as well.”
The woman helped Offendorl undress. He had neither modesty nor sexual desire-his body was well past its ability to be moved by the presence of a woman. He climbed carefully into a tub of cool water while the woman poured in salts that dissolved and filled the bath with bubbles. She also added mint, which gave the bath a pleasant scent as well as a refreshing coolness. Then, as he sank down into the bath, she walked away.
It wasn’t long before the water had darkened from the dirt and grime of his travels. He moved to another tub and allowed two young serving girls to gently wash him with soaps and then pour pitchers of water over his body to wash the soap away. Then they wrapped him in a simple robe made from a light material that wicked the moisture away from his body.
He was taken to a room on the third floor where he propped himself on pillows across the large feather bed and waited for his evening meal to be brought up. He was tired, but he was close to the end of his journey. He felt better than he had in weeks. The bath had helped more than he had expected and he hoped with a little more time he could complete his next task. He removed the small pouch of gold nuggets. It was heavy, and hiding it from the women who had helped bath him hadn’t been easy, but with a little misdirection and magic he had accomplished it. Now he began to roll the nuggets between his palms, like a child playing with modeling clay.
He let his magic pour into the gold. His ancient body felt the pinch of too much magic. It was like pressing a blade into his stomach. The light pressure of minor magic was not painful, but as he extended his power into reshaping the gold the pressure was beginning to build. He could feel the magic taking a toll on his physical body, but he wasn’t transmuting the gold, just reshaping it. Gold was a soft, pliable metal to begin with, so he was betting the effort wouldn’t over-tax him greatly.
Soon he had eight pieces of pure gold, all rolled into tubes about as long as his fingers. It took more magic to meld them together, and his head spun from the effort. Luckily, a woman soon knocked softly on his door.
“Come in,” he said after slipping the gold under a pillow.
She entered carrying a large tray. There was a bottle of wine, a small crystal goblet, and a large bowl of food. She sat the tray on the bed and poured the wine.
“What else can I do for you?” she said in a sultry voice.
“More food,” Offendorl said through clenched teeth. He felt as though his magic was eating him alive.
“More?” she asked in surprise.
“Yes, I require more food,” he said crossly. “Now go.”
She hurried from the room and he watched her go before sagging back against the pillows. He knew his work was going to be difficult, but he felt old and weak. Fear crept into his mind, taunting him. He was close to death, it whispered. He had pushed himself too far and now he was dying.
He shook the morbid thoughts away and took a long drink of the wine, almost emptying his cup. The wine helped. He devoured the food, hardly tasting it. His body seemed to absorb the nutrients instantly. He felt better but his body was crying out for more. He had finished the food and almost the entire bottle of wine when the woman returned.
She had another bowl of food, but no more wine.
“I need more wine as well,” he told her. “In fact, keep bringing it to me until I tell you to stop.”
“As you wish,” she said.
He waved her away and ate the second bowl of food, finally feeling sated and ready to try using his magic again. He pulled the long strip of gold out from under his pillow. It was thin, certainly not as heavy as the first crown he had fashioned. Still, it was big enough to do the job, and he let his magic flow into the metal, bending it into a circle. When he was finished, he sagged back once again, his heart thundering in his chest and his lungs heaving to get enough air.