Aderbleen’s bushy eyebrows rose. “That may prove significant,” he admitted. “I am willing to make the attempt; my customary fee is five hundred gold crowns. The spirits advise me to require payment in advance.”
“The spirits are a grasping and suspicious lot,” Jack answered. “Perhaps they’d be inclined to accept one hundred crowns in advance, and a ten percent cut of the reward when I collect it?”
“The spirits dislike your stinginess,” the gnome shot back. “They refuse to be consulted for less than four hundred crowns. After all, your ability to successfully utilize the information they impart is unknown at this time.”
“Perhaps the spirits should augur the odds of my success, then.”
“That is another divination altogether,” the diviner replied. They dickered back and forth for a few minutes, and finally agreed on two hundred pieces of gold, with a bonus should the tome be recovered.
Satisfied, the diviner rubbed his small hands together and motioned to the crystal ball at the center of the table. “Lean close, resting your hands on the table,” he intoned. “Gaze into the orb, and bring to mind everything you recall of this book-its look, its feel, the smell of its pages, words or passages you recall. We shall see what we shall see.”
Jack complied, concentrating on his memory of the Sarkonagael with all his might. The gnome chanted softly, summoning his magic; the room seemed to grow dim and the crystal ball grew brighter. He remembered the weight of the book in his hands, the black leather cover with an embossed silver skull, the title stamped out with silver chasing. In the crystal orb a misty image began to take shape, a dark book lying on a large stone table. Parchment and lesser tomes lay scattered around it.
“Ah, you have indeed seen this book before,” Aderbleen whispered. “No other attempt gained even the faintest glimpse. Let us draw back and see more of the surroundings.” He murmured softly, continuing to shape his spell, and the image in the orb shrank and slid out of view just as if Jack had stepped back and turned his head in a different direction. Now he could see something of the surroundings: A large chamber of dressed stone blocks, the floor made of gleaming yellow marble, crimson pillars carved in the shape of heroic dwarves supporting the ceiling high above. At one end of the hall or chamber there stood a dais crowned by a great altar in the shape of an anvil; a mosaic on the wall behind the altar displayed the image of a huge hammer surrounded by fire and lightning. Bookshelves and work tables were arranged haphazardly throughout the grand hall. The whole scene was illuminated by gleaming golden crystal-lamps worked cunningly into the pillar-sculptures of the dwarf heroes.
“The book lies in Sarbreen, somewhere beneath our feet,” Aderbleen said. “Find this chamber, and you will find the book.”
“Sarbreen is a very large place, full of monsters and ancient traps,” Jack protested. “I can hardly search the entire ruin for a single chamber, no matter how grand.”
“Well, I can also tell you that the tome lies about eight hundred and twenty-five yards in that direction,” Aderbleen said, pointing at a shallow angle toward the floor behind Jack’s back. “However, there is no way to know which entrance to the ruins is actually closest to the Sarkonagael’s location once the twists, turns, and blind alleys of the ancient city are taken into account. Try somewhere in northern Sarbreen, about two or three levels down.”
Jack peered again at the image in the crystal ball. He thought he saw a shadow of movement … but it was gone almost at once. He didn’t know where in Sarbreen that chamber might lie, but he knew someone who might. “Very well,” he said. “That is certainly more than I knew before I arrived on your doorstep as foretold.” It was also a strong indication that the Sarkonagael was not currently in Myrkyssa Jelan’s hands, nor in immediate danger of discovery by some other treasure-hunter. “Need I remind you that what we have seen in your crystal ball should remain strictly confidential? If someone else should reach the book before I do, you will not receive the bonus we agreed upon.”
“The spirits are not stupid,” Aderbleen replied.
“Very good.” Jack stood up, and bowed to the small mage. “With luck the spirits will soon reveal to you our mutual success. Now, will the unseen powers lead me forth, or should I just show myself out the door?”
“Oh, just go back the way you came in,” the gnome snapped. He hopped down from his chair and pointed Jack to the door. Jack bowed his head again to Master Aderbleen, and left the Seekers’ Guildhall whistling a merry air.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Although Jack wanted to make inquiries about where exactly in Sarbreen a great abandoned temple might be found, he had to keep an eye on his social calendar if he wanted to continue to present himself as a lordling reestablishing himself in the city’s noble circles. The Sarkonagael seemed safely hidden in Sarbreen for now; he could retrieve it at his convenience. So, with some regrets, Jack passed the rest of the day in his newfound social engagements. He endured a long and rather tedious lunch at the home of Lady Moonbrace and a circle of her relations and friends-all of them very prim and proper ladies whose average age must have approached eighty years-discovering that they seemed most interested in the fact that he was a young, unmarried lord new to Raven’s Bluff and a potential prospect for their various matchmaking skills. Fortunately Jack escaped with little more than vague promises to attend various affairs where he gathered that nieces, daughters, and granddaughters would be thrown at him in the hopes that one might stick.
The reception at the playhouse was somewhat more interesting (and expensive). It was attended by a rather more eclectic group of nobles, merchants, and adventurers who’d blundered into enough good fortune to consider themselves patrons of the arts. Several of the reception guests were fine-looking young women who seemed quite taken by the rumors of Jack’s derring-do in Seila Norwood’s escape from the Underdark. He had to remind himself constantly that these were circles in which Seila and her family frequently moved. As tempting as it was to flirt with bored noble lasses intrigued by someone as novel as Lord Jaer Kell Wildhame, he couldn’t afford to let any stories of misbehavior get back to Seila, not if he hoped to pursue the Norwood fortune and her very lovely favors as well. Jack survived the occasion by replacing in his mind’s eye the more fetching and forward ladies at the theater with Lady Moonbrace’s friends, and made a note to himself to reverse the procedure the next time he found himself in Lady Moonbrace’s company.
The next day, the formal invitation to the celebratory affair at Norwood Manor was waiting for Jack when he came down for his breakfast. He admired the elegant card-golden ink on bleached vellum, hand-lettered with flowing calligraphy-which read, Dear Friend, the Lord and Lady Norwood humbly request your attendance for a banquet and spring revel at Norwood Manor on the occasion of their daughter Seila’s return safe and whole from captivity. “I observe that the event is described as a return and not a rescue,” Jack sniffed. He felt a little offended, but then he read further: Please join us on the evening of the Tenth of Tarsakh as we celebrate this joyous occasion and honor Lord Jaer Kell Wildhame, the hero responsible for Seila’s return to Norwood Manor. Dinner will be served at seven bells; regrets only.
“Well, that is more like it,” he said aloud. “Now, what else do we have here?”
Beneath the invitation was a small envelope addressed to him in a feminine hand; he opened it and discovered a note from Seila, a reply to his letter of a day or two ago. She wrote about the hustle and bustle of the party preparations, the simple joys in rediscovering the routines of her life before the slavers abducted her, and hinted at the return of two or three former suitors who had thoughts of resuming their pursuits now that she had been miraculously brought away from captivity in the Underdark. “Why, I think she means to make me jealous,” Jack muttered. “Well, those noble popinjays who think they can pick up where they left off will be in for a surprise. First, this is a matter of business to me, not idle romance. I will not be easily daunted. And second, none of them managed to rescue Seila from the drow.”