them.”

  That’s what Billigan had said about the plains folk, the people King Urm had conquered when he expanded his kingdom. That’s it! Is Ortis descended from one of those survivors? What was it Ortis had said?

  “My people scattered centuries ago. Most of us are north of the Death Swamps.”

  The Death Swamps.

  That was where the fishmen live.

  How did he get through them? Hobart said the fishmen were vicious, hadn’t he?

  Angus smiled. He had finally found what troubled him, and now he could sleep. He could decide what to do about the insight tomorrow. But he wouldn’t confront Ortis—not right away, at least. The connection was still too tenuous. He needed more information. They’d have a library in Hellsbreath, possibly several. There were wizards there….

  As his mind settled and he felt sleep approaching, one last thought intruded upon him: If I have time….

  5

  “I would have liked to have gotten to Hellsbreath last night,” Hobart grumbled as they worked their way around the edge of the last mountain. “The lift is always busier in the evenings.”

  “No help for it,” Ortis said. “The rain made the cobblestones too slippery for a hard ride. Besides, it gave us time to take a closer look at that map when the sun came out.”

  “I know,” Hobart said. “I just hate waiting in line, that’s all.”

  “Is there a wall and gate, like in Wyrmwood?” Angus asked.

  “Not exactly,” Hobart said. “But you’ll be able to see it soon enough.”

  “How long are we staying?” Angus asked.

  Hobart set his jaw and said, “You said you can pay your own fare, right?”

  “Yes,” Angus said.

  “For how long?”

  Angus shrugged, “How much does it cost?”

  “Depends on where you stay,” Hobart said. “I’ll be staying at Hedreth’s. He’s an old veteran and gives a discount to Banner Holders. Last time I was here, a week was three silver for the room and another three for food and a reasonable amount of drink. It costs more if you’re thirsty.”

  “How much is the exchange rate for gold?” Angus asked.

  “Gold?” Giorge repeated, sitting up straighter in his saddle. “Twelve to one for silver, usually. It depends upon the coin. Some are worth more because they have more gold in them; others are worth less. You can tell by the stamp on it, usually. That and the weight.”

  Angus reached into his pouch and took out one of the gold coins. He held it up between his fingers; it was about an inch and a half in diameter, thick, and heavy. On one side was a crown, and the other had the crisp profile of a man on it. “What about this one?” he asked, tossing it to Giorge.

  Giorge caught it easily, glanced at the images and whistled. “You’ll make more if you sell it to a collector,” he said. “I know a few….”

  “Why?” Hobart asked.

  “Take a look,” Giorge said, nudging his horse forward until he was next to him. Angus hurried to match their pace so he could listen to Giorge. “The crown on this side is on all of the coins of Tyr; there’s nothing unusual about that. The profile on the other side is what matters. It shows the image of the king at the time of its minting. This is King Urm, and the quality of the coin is amazing. It’s as if it had been stamped yesterday.”

  “Counterfeit?” Hobart asked.

  “No,” he said. “You can tell by the weight and balance. They don’t make coins like this anymore. The metal in this was mined by the dwarves.”

  “Are you saying it’s a thousand years old?” Angus asked.

  Giorge nodded. “About that, yes. There must not be very many of these left, either. Especially in this condition. Whenever there is a new king, he tends to collect up his predecessors’ coins, melt them down, and forge coins with his own image. A collector would pay a fortune for this.”

  “Interesting,” Angus said. “How much is a fortune?”

  Giorge frowned, thought for a moment, and then said, “I’d have to ask my contacts. But I wouldn’t be surprised if someone would pay upwards of a thousand gold coins for this one. Maybe more.”

  “Really?” Angus said as he did a quick calculation. “In that case, I have more than enough for a lifetime in Hedreth’s. Even without the garnets.”

  “Garnets?” Giorge repeated, leaning closer to him. “You have garnets, too?”

  “A few,” Angus said.

  “I can get you a fair price if you want to sell them,” Giorge said, “The coins, too.”

  Angus held out his hand and waited for Giorge to give him back his coin, then moved his horse a bit further away from him. “I think I’ll hold on to them for now,” he said. “I have enough silver for a few weeks’ stay. You can look into it if you’d like, though.”

  “Sure,” Giorge said. “And I’ll charge you a very reasonable brokers’ fee, too.”

  “Not if he joins the banner,” Hobart said. “You know the rules.”

  “He hasn’t joined us yet,” Giorge reminded him, eyeing Angus more closely, as if he were trying to see the coins and gems through his robe.

  “Remember Wyrmwood,” Angus half-whispered.

  Giorge blinked and grinned. “I was just thinking,” he protested. “It wasn’t like I was going to do anything.”

  “Make sure you don’t,” Hobart said. “It would be impolite, considering the circumstances.”

  “Of course, if you have that many of those gold coins, we could just sell you the wand and book. I’m sure we could make an equitable arrangement….”

  “Perhaps,” Angus said. Twelve coins. Offer five. Bargain to nine? “I could part with five of them, I suppose.”

  “Five?” Giorge sputtered. “The wand alone is worth twice that!”

  “Really?” Angus said. “We don’t even know what it does. What if it only produces flowers from empty air? If it does that, it wouldn’t even be worth one of those coins. I’m taking a considerable risk, here.”

  “You can make flowers out of air?” Hobart asked, his eyebrows trying to catch his receding hairline. “I’d like to see that.”

  “No,” Angus said, shaking his head. “I was just pointing out that the wand might not do much. Most wands are more powerful than that, but every now and then, a wizard will make a wand for practice that is basically worthless.”

  “The book—” Giorge began.

  “—may be full of First Order spells,” Angus finished. “If it is, it isn’t worth much to me. I mastered those long ago.” At least for flame and earth….

  “I think we can get a fair price for it in Hellsbreath,” Hobart countered. “Even if you can’t find a use for it, there are bound to be wizards there who can.”

  Angus nodded, “True,” he admitted. “But I’d rather wait until I’ve looked at it before I change my offer.”

  “How about this,” Giorge said. “We trade you the wand and book for all the gold coins you have.”

  “Really?” Angus chuckled. “And what would I live on if I did that.”

  “The garnets, of course,” Giorge said. “You have more than one, don’t you?”

  Angus nodded.

  “How many gold coins do you have?” Hobart asked.

  “More than I’m willing to pay for the wand and book,” Angus answered.

  “Twenty?” Giorge asked. “I think that’s a reasonable price for that wand and book. Don’t you Hobart?”

  Angus laughed. “You wouldn’t know what a reasonable price for magic is, Giorge. Besides, it’s only worth what a wizard is willing to pay for it, and this wizard is willing to pay seven of those gold coins.”

  “Seven?” Hobart mused. “Come now, Angus, it’s surely worth more than that, isn’t it?”

  “It may be,” Angus admitted. “Or it may be worth far less. That’s the point, isn’t it? We don’t know its value, and we’re making assumptions based on ignorance. You’re assuming it is a powerful wand with a high value, and I am making a much more conservative estimate.
Even so, I am willing to gamble by offering to pay a higher price than that conservative estimate.”

  “Seven seems low to me,” Hobart said. “I know enough about things like that—magical things—to know a wizard has to spend a great deal of time and energy making them. Even simple ones have more value than the materials they are made from, and that wand is made from ivory. The value of that ivory, alone, is at least one of those gold coins, if not two.”

  “Fifteen,” Giorge offered. “We’re taking a risk, too. What if it’s actually worth a great deal more than that?”

  “I think I’m being generous,” Angus countered. “And ivory—even carved ivory like this wand—is not worth even one of those coins, and you know it. Besides, you would not even have known about this wand without me; you would have just given it away to the priests in the Temple of Muff. By rights, I shouldn’t even be making this offer at all; I should just keep the wand and charge you for its return.”

  “We had the book,” Giorge corrected. “You didn’t find that.”

  “Don’t forget the key,” Angus said. “But I’ll be fair. I’ll give you eight of those gold coins for the pair. That’s far more than you would have gotten without me.”

  “Ten,” Giorge said. “That would be a reasonable compromise, would it not?”

  “Perhaps,” Angus said, “but it would leave me uncomfortably short on funds.”

  “The garnets—”

  “I don’t know their value,” Angus said. “Also, I would rather hang onto them for the time being. They travel much easier than bags of coin. Still,” he considered. “If Giorge agrees to liquidate the last two coins for me—free of charge—I think I can spare ten.”

  “You have