75
Tamper Stern was approaching forty years of age, and it showed in the lines on his face and the emptiness of his gaze.
He was a thin man, but broad. He looked like his skeleton had been made to hold more weight than it currently did. He wore black from head to toe. His black leather coat was slung across the seat of his chair.
On the table in front of him was a glass of whiskey.
No ice.
The surrounding tables were mostly empty, with the patrons of the little tavern quickly realizing that he was both a mage and a man who scowled hard enough to make them think that sitting near him would be a bad idea.
From his seat, he had a clear view of the street outside.
It was raining. Not very hard, but hard enough that there were puddles in the street. Plodding through those puddles with no care in the world was a golem almost fifteen feet tall with a wide barrel-shaped chest and a heavy domed head.
A red gem sat in the center of the head, which turned slowly from left to right as though scanning the street.
Its long arms were heavily plated and had three thick fingers.
Every step made the ground thrum, and the road was worn down where the golem trod, revealing a path it had been taking for hundreds of years.
Tamper had known about the golem before arriving.
He liked golems.
They were worth a lot of gold if they could be disabled and transported.
He knew at least a dozen men who’d bid on it if they could.
He squinted at the large construct as it drew closer. It was in pretty good condition by the look of it. Tamper had seen a lot of golems tucked away in cities all over the Republic.
None of them looked as clean as this one.
The dwarven brass shell looked like it had been recently polished. And its gait wasn’t labored by broken or worn parts inside its legs.
The more Tamper studied it, the more he doubted it would be an easy task to subdue it.
Still.
It’d be worth the attempt.
“Mage Stern?”
Tamper glanced to his left as Vesna Farringham stopped beside his table.
He considered not rising from his chair, but the Farringham family were generous with their payments, so he slid out and gave her a small bow. He’d been told she was their Patriarch’s daughter.
It wouldn’t hurt to be polite, he thought.
“Miss Farringham,” he said, indicating the chair opposite his own. “Please join me.”
Vesna gave a nod of her head and sat down.
His eyes rove over her once without being too obvious. She was a pretty young thing, he thought. But he’d always been fond of redheads.
His first time had been with a redhead, and he remembered her fondly even though he couldn’t recall her name.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been at the Academy,” he said, glancing back at the golem outside, then back to her. “Would you like a drink?”
She tilted her head, thinking, then she nodded. “I’ll have a small wine, thank you.”
He nodded and made some motions to the bartender who seemed to understand. Some signs were universal.
Pulling off her coat, she lay it across her lap instead of behind her on the chair. She gave the little tavern a cool sweep of her gaze. As she did, Tamper considered he might have misjudged her.
He’d expected such a pretty head would be empty.
But there was a shrewdness to her that made him feel better about the assignment. He never liked dealing with stupid employers. And he’d hoped this one would be different. The Farringhams had a reputation.
They could be generous.
But they also rewarded success. This was, for him, an opportunity. If he could impress the daughter of the Patriarch, he might find himself pulled into their orbit. And that would provide opportunities to get better cores.
His own wand was spectacular by the expectations of anyone going to the Academy. But it was poor compared to those who worked in places of real power.
Any member of the Mage Court who saw his wand’s core would scoff at using it for more than a decorative earring or broach.
With the backing of the Farringhams, he might be able to do better.
Much better.
So, he pitched his voice to one more respectful than he was used to. He pushed all thoughts of her as a pretty young girl out of his head and chose to treat her with as much respect as he could muster.
Vesna, on the other hand, looked at ease.
She reached for the wine as soon as it was brought and took a sip. If she thought it was beneath her to drink such a cheap drink, she didn’t show it. Nor did she set it aside.
She sipped again, thanked the barmaid, and placed a hefty tip on the table for her to take.
Something the other girl took with gratitude.
“Are you sure, miss?”
“Of course,” Vesna said with a warm smile. “I understand your job can be difficult and troublesome.”
“Then thank you, miss,” the barmaid said. “Please let us know if we can do anything for you.”
The legend of the Farringham generosity lives on, Tamper thought.
Then he remembered how the seats were empty around him and realized it was his fault Vesna had thought to tip more than was normal. He grimaced and shook his head at himself. “I think I scared the locals,” he said softly.
“That’s fine,” she said airily. “It is your job, after all. I’d be a bit concerned if you hadn’t.”
He took a sip of his whiskey and tried not to smile.
Again, she showed generosity.
But he wasn’t fooled.
Underneath all that shine, the Farringhams also knew how to bite.
He put the drink down and settled into a more comfortable pose. “I wasn’t told exactly what you need,” he said. “Is there anything you can tell me here?”
“Not so much,” she admitted. Her eyes flicked to the closest patrons, who didn’t seem to be paying any attention. “Let’s say there is someone I’m interested in.”
“Interested in?” He didn’t let his face shift. Was he to be a matchmaker?
But she read the tone and sighed as her cheeks blushed. “Why does everyone take it that way?”
“Sorry,” he said, unable to stop the chuckle from bubbling over his lips. “I didn’t mean to imply anything… improper?”
“It’s alright. I should watch how I phrase things.” She squinted at her glass. “My father says I don’t concentrate enough.”
He wasn’t sure what to tell her.
The games of rich people were usually little wars with words, and he’d never been qualified to fight those battles.
“I’m sure you’re a thousand times better than I am,” he said.
“The person I’m interested in is one of the other students.
Yes, he’s a boy. But I’m interested in him for family reasons.
We think he has something he shouldn’t have.
Or knows someone who has it.” Vesna scowled suddenly, and her nose twitched.
“I know he knows something. But he’s stubborn and defensive. He’s also surrounded by his team.”
Tamper felt a small jolt as he remembered his time at the Academy.
And the team he’d been in.
They’d all been very close. Then after their training period, they’d sort of drifted apart. He wondered what happened to them.
“Then it might be exciting,” he said slowly. “Competition in the Academy makes some teams very close. I know with mine, we mostly shared the same room, too. It was a bit of a squeeze as you can imagine.”
She gave him an odd look.
Even though she was a Farringham, he knew she’d have one of the small cubicle rooms that he’d had. There was barely room for one person, let alone four or five.
“Yes,” Vesna said. “They’re like that. And two of them are very good at hiding themselves. They’re always with him. My bodyguards are extremely well trained to spot mages using stealth spells, but they haven’t yet been able to spot either of them.”
“Interesting,” Tamper said, feeling a little more intrigued.
Maybe this job might be a bit of a challenge after all.
“They’re also the top team in the Academy by far. And when I say top, I mean it. They’ve broken records for every single dungeon run they’ve done. By both time and completion. They bring out more dungeon stones than any other team every single time.”
He felt a little thrill of excitement at that.
His own team had been good, too. At the time, he was rated 8. But he’d been young and managed to grow stronger.
Nodding, he tapped the table with his finger. “What ranking are they?”
“Their top member is a rank nine scout. She’s the most difficult one. She’s very elusive and is dangerous. You shouldn’t underestimate her. The other two in his team are a ranked two tank and a rank three scout. Both scouts are very stealthy, and the rank three is very good with a mana rifle.”
“They’re not allowed to carry them around the city, though, are they?”
“No.” Vesna shook her head. “But they have a tendency to carry them around the Academy. Under the pretense of going back and forth from the Range, though no one sees them using it much.”
Tamper nodded. “We did the same,” he said absently. “It lets the other teams know not to mess with you. And him? What’s he?”
“He’s the most dangerous, in my opinion.” Vesna leaned over the wine, giving him a look which tried to convey how serious she felt about it. “Rank one.”
“What?” He twisted his face into a confused grimace. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“No. No, I am not.” She picked up her glass. “Last year, he killed a rank eight mage. With a shot to the head. After chasing him through the Vault.”
Tamper felt a bolt of shock. Why would anyone be stupid enough to go into the Vault?
But his mind was still reeling from the thought of the boy being a rank 1.
Rank 1’s could barely cast a single spell.
How could that happen? Any mage could block a shot from a mana rifle. And a ranked 8 should be able to fight back. It shouldn’t have been a contest.
Outside the golem had paused.
Its domed head swiveled. For a moment, Tamper thought the golem was looking right at him. Then it slowly plodded onwards.
He picked up the whiskey.
This trip was looking interesting.