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

open archway, a gray-robed figure stepped out from the shadows and intercepted them. He was a young man, almost a boy, with a gaunt figure; he was almost emaciated, as if he hadn’t eaten in some time. His eyes were narrow, and his nose long, ending with a bulbous inward curl toward the thin upper lip. His ears fanned out as if he were trying to hear something from both directions at the same time. His black hair began as a point on his forehead, avoided the sides of his head, and ran down his back in a long braid that resembled a rat’s tail.

  “May I be of assistance?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Hobart said. “This is Teffles, a follower of Muff. He wanted his body to be brought here when he died. He died. We’re here.”

  “And the payment?” the young man asked.

  Hobart frowned. “He said nothing about a payment.”

  The young man shrugged. “Perhaps it was an oversight,” he said.

  “What is the payment?”

  The young man smiled. “A gold coin will be sufficient.”

  Hobart shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t have that much,” he said. “Perhaps—”

  “Surely,” Angus interrupted, “his robe alone will be worth at least that.

  “His robe?” the young man repeated, laughing. “It is much too gaudy for even a silver or two.”

  “It may be gaudy,” Angus said, “but a wizard would pay handsomely for it.”

  “Why?” the young man asked.

  “Tell them to check the sleeve,” Angus said.

  “Indeed?” the young man said. “What is up his sleeve?”

  Angus smiled. “Ask the wizard who buys it.”

  The young man frowned in thought for several seconds. “You are suggesting I take your assessment on trust,” he said. “I would prefer not to do so. After all, if the robe was as valuable as you suggest, why are you not wearing it?”

  Angus half-smiled. “It is quite simple, really. I have my own robe; what use would I have for a second one? Also, I am here as a courtesy to Hobart as we go to the Wizards’ School. I have no claim to it.”

  Hobart looked sharply at him, his eyebrows frowning, and shook his head. “It is true,” Hobart said. “Teffles was part of my banner, and Angus is merely traveling under our protection. However, if he says the robe is more valuable than a gold coin, I would trust his judgment.” He turned to Angus and asked, “Perhaps we should take it with us?”

  The young man considered for a long moment before shrugging. “Then take him with you as you go.”

  “Angus?” Hobart asked. “We are on the way to the Wizards’ School anyway. Why not go there, first, and then return with the body after we sell the robe. I’m sure it will be no trouble for me to carry him. What do you think we can get for it?”

  “Well,” Angus considered. “We would need to take it off the body and wash it, I suppose.”

  “Yes,” the young man said. “The aromatic decomposition is quite distinctive. It is unlikely that you will find a buyer without cleaning it first.”

  “However, they are wizards,” Angus mused, “and a little odor would be of little consequence to them. It would take but a minor spell to cleanse it thoroughly, and a member of the First Order would likely pay at least three gold coins for it, possibly more if they could spare it. If they dislike the color, that can also be easily changed.”

  “Well then,” Hobart said. “Let us be on our way.”

  As he turned, the young man said, “A moment, please. What is it about the robe that makes it so valuable?”

  “Ask the wizard who buys it,” Angus repeated. “Tell him to look closely at the sleeves. Very closely.”

  The young man frowned, chewed his lip for a few seconds, and, just as Hobart turned to leave again, said, “Fine. I will waive the fee for this one. But I keep the robe.”

  “Of course,” Hobart said. “Where would you like me to put him?”

  “Follow me,” he said, leading Hobart into the small building.

  While Angus waited for Hobart to return, he looked up and brought the magic slowly into focus, keeping it at a greater distance than he normally did. The entire sky lit up with complex energy rigidly held in place, fluctuating madly as if it were trying to break free. The strands were from the sphere of sky: light blue, shades of white, and a nearly fluorescent aquamarine that he had never seen before. They were long integrated chains of complex knots, with each chain connected to the two adjacent ones as if they had been stacked in rotating layers. Underneath the dome, there was a long platform that spanned from one lift to the other, but before he could begin assessing it, Hobart came up beside him.

  “That’s the way the wizards look on the tower roofs when they say they’re watching the volcanoes,” he said. “If you want to see the volcanoes, Angus, you’ll have to lower your gaze a bit.”

  “I’m not looking at the volcanoes,” Angus said. “I’m looking at the dome and bridge.”

  Hobart tilted his head upward, stared hard for a long moment, and then shrugged. “I don’t see anything,” he said. “Are you sure you aren’t imagining things?”

  Angus laughed, letting the magic slip away, and turned to Hobart. “Think about it for a moment, Hobart,” Angus said when his laughter dwindled enough for him to speak. “You know there is a dome there because you’ve seen the ash gather on top of it. You also know it was built by wizards. I’m a wizard. It stands to reason that I can see the dome when there is no ash. It is, after all, wrought from magic.”

  Hobart frowned, looked upward for a few more seconds, and then asked, “Why can’t I see it, then?”

  “Simple,” Angus said. “Only a small percentage of humanity is capable of seeing magic, and then only vaguely. It takes considerable training to see it clearly and even more training to manipulate it. You lack that training; I do not. Neither do those wizards up there on the spire or tower tops.”

  Hobart looked skeptical but decided it wasn’t worth pursuing any further. “We should get going.”

  They walked at a fast but not taxing pace, and after they had gone half a block, Hobart asked, “Is what you said about that robe true? Is it really worth that much?”

  Angus shrugged. “To the right wizard it will be. The magical pouch kept Giorge from knowing there was a wand and key concealed in the robe, didn’t it? Well, I’m sure there are wizards at the school who would like to hide things from Giorge’s kind of casual observation. Of course, it won’t keep wizards from finding it, so the value will be limited for those staying in the school. But for someone who is leaving…” he shrugged.

  “Perhaps we should have kept it, then.”

  “Not with that smell,” Angus said. “I don’t know the spell to cleanse it. Also, would you wear clothes that had been wrapped around a corpse for that long?”

  “No,” Hobart conceded, “but if it were armor, that would be a different story.”

  They walked in silence until they were about a block from the Wizards’ School’s gate, and then Hobart said, “Let’s not to tarry long here, shall we? It will be dark by the time we get back to Hedreth’s, and Bandor will be waiting for me.”

  “My questions will be simple to answer,” he said. “If the answers are favorable, I will return tomorrow for a more involved discussion.”

  Hobart nodded. “The horse will cost a considerable amount,” he said, “and I was not lying to that priest. I did not bring much coin with me.”

  “Not your concern,” Angus said. “I have the garnets.”

  Hobart nodded. “Don’t offer more than the two small ones. If they want more, offer one of the larger ones and ask for something more in return. That horse is only worth about a hundred and twenty gold coins, if that.”

  “A bit more to a wizard, I should think,” Angus said. “But I will keep what you have said in mind.”

  “There’s the safe zone,” Hobart said as they came to the end of the houses. “They keep an area around the tower clear of houses in case one of the students makes a particularly destructive mistake. It h
appened a few times early on, and that’s when they made the safe zone. It’s probably not big enough.”

  They walked in silence down a narrow walkway bordered by bushes and flower gardens. Most of the flowers had already closed in upon themselves for the night, but here and there a bush was flush with clusters of tiny red flowers, tiny pink flowers, or tiny white ones. At the end of the safe zone was the gate to the Wizards’ School complex, and a wizard was stationed in a small alcove just inside it. He had a Lamplight spell over his right shoulder and was reading from a heavy tome. When he noticed them standing there, he looked up and said, “Welcome to the Wizards’ School. I am Vindray, Wizard of the Fifth Order. How may we be of service to you this evening?”

  “I am Hobart of the Banner of the Wounded Hand, and I believe it is I who can be of service to you. We have a horse bequeathed to the school, and it is waiting in the stables.”

  “A horse?” Vindray said. “Who bequeathed it to us?”

  “Teffles,” Hobart said. “I believe he studied here some time ago.”

  “Teffles?” Vindray muttered. “I am not familiar with the name. Perhaps if we looked at the registry in the archives…. Was there anything else for the school? Most graduates bequeath the spells they develop to the school or to a favored mentor or friend.”

  Angus bristled, but Hobart smoothly said, “Nothing of that sort was mentioned when he joined my banner. Only the horse.”

  “A pity,” Vindray said. “But no matter. If you could provide me with the particulars, I will notify