The Tiger's Eye (Book 1 of the Angus the Mage Series)

more ruins over here than elsewhere in the kingdom?”

  “Not particularly,” Hobart said. “But there are fewer banners. Those who are over here tend to avoid The Tween, and we thought it would be a good place to find ruins, particularly west of Hellsbreath where the volcanoes are most active. But that was before Ribaldo died. Few enter The Tween without a capable wizard. There are things there that only magic can defeat.”

  “I see,” Angus said. “You’re thinking about digging into the remnants of the Dwarf Wars?”

  Hobart nodded. “Most of the ruins got buried or were lost,” he said. “We hope to find some of them. That’s why Ortis wants to see your map. He collects them, and he wants to compare it to the others he has. Every mapmaker notes different things, and some of those differences might be important.”

  “Well,” Angus said as they rejoined the group around the fire. “I suppose he’d best take a look at it now, then.” He took off his backpack and opened the flap. The map was on top, and he held it out to Ortis. “Here’s the map Voltari gave me when I left. The additions are from Ulrich—except for The Tween. I added that myself.”

  Ortis unrolled the map and held it so it caught the firelight. Then he moved closer to the fire and looked more closely at it.

  “What else do you do?” Angus said, turning back to Hobart.

  “Fight brigands, mostly,” he said. “It’s one of the things banners are expected to do while they’re traveling. The king’s army handles large scale interlopers, but smaller ones are usually left to us. So, if a village is plagued by bandits or wolves or something else that doesn’t warrant the attention of the army, we step in to take care of them. The villagers have to pay, of course, but it’s a reasonable rate, usually not much more than room and board. The wenches tend to be grateful, too.”

  “Another reason to be near the border,” Giorge offered as he sat down. “The guardsmen may patrol the area between Hellsbreath and Wyrmwood, but they don’t go much further than that. It isn’t profitable. There isn’t much money in villages.”

  “Most of the time,” Hobart continued, “we just travel. There aren’t very many dangers for a group our size, at least within the kingdom, and those there are well known and easily avoided—like the fishmen—if that’s what we want to do.”

  “Angus,” Ortis asked from behind him. “You said Voltari made this map, right?”

  “Yes,” Angus said. “At least, he had just finished writing on it when he gave it to me. Why?”

  “I think it’s an old map,” he said. “A very old one.”

  “Oh?” Angus said, moving to stand next to him by the fire. “Why do you think that?”

  “Well,” Ortis began, “you said you’ve added to it. Do you remember what was on the map before you made the changes?”

  “Certainly,” Angus said. “The terrain, of course, and only a few things were labeled. The Death Swamps, Mountain Dwarves, Tyrag, Wyrmwood, and Hellsbreath were about it.”

  “So,” Ortis continued. “All of these villages north of Hellsbreath except Wyrmwood were unmarked.”

  Angus nodded.

  “And The Tween?”

  Angus nodded again.

  “What about these plumes? They look like they were added to it by the same hand that labeled the Death Swamps.”

  “They were there when Voltari handed it to me,” Angus said. “Of course, he could have added them in himself.”

  “Yes, and the roads,” Ortis said. “See? The east-west one to Wyrmwood is much more faded than the others. It was part of the original. The roads through Hellsbreath weren’t, and Hellsbreath wasn’t on it either. It’s a young, thriving city. Wyrmwood, on the other hand, has been around since the initial expansion of the kingdom under the rule of King Urm. It was a garrison at first, and the town grew up around it. That’s what happened in Hellsbreath, too. The people cluster around the military outposts. Also, take a closer look at Tyrag. If you hold the map up close to the flame, you can see that Tyrag is covering up Virag. I think this map is one from the earliest days of the kingdom, possibly even from before the Dwarf Wars.”

  “Really?” Angus said. “Maybe I should get a new one, one that’s up to date.”

  Ortis shrugged. “Aside from the volcanoes, the terrain hasn’t changed much. There are more villages, towns, and roads, and they can be added in easily enough.”

  Angus considered for a moment, and then pointed at ELHOUIT ACHNUT. “What about that?” he asked. “I don’t recognize the language.”

  Ortis smiled. “A lot of maps have that notation. It means, ‘Do not go here.’ Usually, it only means that the mapmaker didn’t go there, himself. Sometimes it’s a warning. It’s difficult to tell which. The other classic is ‘Dragons be here.’”

  “I wonder why Ulrich wrote that,” Angus muttered. “Why would he not want me to go there? Other than it being in The Tween, of course.”

  “The Tween is riddled with stories,” Hobart said over his right shoulder. “It could simply be a friendly warning.”

  “Or worse,” Ortis said. “Some of those stories are true.”

  “We could find out,” Hobart said. “But I doubt it will be worth it.”

  “What about this?” Angus asked, pointing at the faded symbol that reminded him of the runes for flame magic. “It looks old, like the rest of the map.”

  “It’s faint enough to be,” Ortis said, squinting. “Maybe tomorrow, when the sun’s out, we’ll be able to see it better. It looks a bit familiar, but I can’t place it right now. I’ll have to compare it to my other maps; it might be on one of them.” He rolled up the map and handed it back to Angus. “Thank you for letting me see this, Angus. It is an interesting map.”

  As Angus put the map in his backpack, Hobart said, “Teffles had a wand.”

  “Oh?” Giorge said joining them and handing Ortis the clean dishes. “May I see it?”

  “Not tonight,” Hobart said. “It’s in Angus’s care for now. We’ll have to discuss it further while we ride.”

  “So, are you going to join us, then?” Giorge smiled.

  “I haven’t decided,” Angus replied. “But if I do, I will want Teffles’ wand and his book as part of the agreement.”

  “That’s a steep price,” Hobart stated.

  “Not really,” Angus retorted. “Neither the wand nor the book will be of any use to you; you’re not trained in magic. You can sell them, of course, but at what price? You almost certainly won’t be able to get a fair one without knowing more about them.”

  “Be that as it may,” Hobart said. “Do not presume to believe they are yours.”

  Angus half-smiled and looked at him, “I am merely the wand’s caretaker for the moment. Besides, I could easily have said nothing about it. You would not have been any the wiser if I had waited to retrieve it until after you dropped off his body at the Temple of Muff.”

  Hobart nodded, “True. But you did say something about it, didn’t you?”

  “All I am saying now,” Angus said, “is that I have at least a reasonable claim to it.”

  Hobart frowned and said nothing.

  “What would it take for you to become its owner?” Giorge asked.

  “Yes,” Ortis agreed. “Banners always fare better with wizards.”

  “I take it,” Angus smiled, “I am a valuable commodity.”

  “Yes,” Hobart admitted. “But there is still some question as to how valuable and whether or not we will be willing to pay that price. It already seems to be rather steep.”

  “Nevertheless,” Angus said, “if I join your banner it is non-negotiable. The wand and the book must be mine. However,” he hedged, “I would need to see the book first.”

  Giorge shifted position and squirmed a bit, producing a small book about three inches square from somewhere on his body.

  “I take it you weren’t going to tell us about that, either,” Hobart resignedly accused.

  Giorge shrugged. “I wanted to wait until I got it open.”

 
“Hand it over,” Hobart said, reaching for the book. Giorge gave it to him, and after a brief inspection, Hobart passed it to Angus. “Can you open it?”

  Angus accepted the book and examined it. It was bound by hard leather covers reinforced with iron straps. The clasp was locked. “Is there a key?” Angus asked.

  “I couldn’t find one,” Giorge admitted. “It doesn’t make any sense, either. He had to be able to open it, didn’t he? Why else would he carry it around with him?”

  Angus brought the book closer to the fire and looked up the spine from both ends. Nothing. He brought out the threads of magic, but there weren’t any unnatural twists or turns in it; the book was just that: a book. Wherever the key was, it wasn’t concealed by magic. He tilted his head and looked back toward Teffles’ corpse. “Do you have a lantern? Torches?”

  “Why?” Hobart asked. “The fire is bright enough, isn’t it?”

  “Not really,” Angus said. “The key may be concealed in the book’s binding or metalwork. If it is, it will be quite difficult to find in these conditions. But that’s not why I want a torch. The key might have been with the wand. I’d like to check it out.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Hobart said. He leaned toward the fire and selected one of the larger branches and wrapped his huge hand around it. It was burning well, and when he lifted it up high and held it well out in front of him, the flame shot up about a foot. “Good enough?” he asked.

  “It will have to be,” Angus said. “For now.”

  Hobart nodded, stood, and started walking toward Teffles’ corpse. Angus and Giorge