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

the stableman that the horse is there.”

  “It is a docile steed—”

  “No, no, not the horse,” Vindray interrupted. “Where you are staying, where the horse is stabled, and how we may contact you.”

  “It is one of seven horses,” Hobart objected. “It would not be wise to take the wrong one.”

  “Nevertheless,” Vindray said. “I would like to begin with your information before turning to the horse.”

  “Perhaps I can resolve this situation,” Angus said. “My name is Angus, and I have an interest in purchasing the steed. If you would like to call upon your stableman to visit me at Hedreth’s we may be able to find an equitable arrangement for both the school and myself.”

  “Angus,” Vindray said. “What is your order?”

  “I have none,” Angus said. “I was not trained in a Wizards’ School. If I were,” he continued, “I believe I would have graduated by now.”

  “A Master? From outside the schools?” Vindray scoffed. “Who trained you?”

  Angus half-smiled and tilted his head. “I was apprenticed to Voltari of Blackhaven Tower,” he said, his voice curiously soft even in his own ears.

  Vindray paled a bit, and then hurriedly said, “I meant no disrespect, Master Angus. It is rare that one trained outside the schools achieves any ability beyond the first or second order. If I had known you had studied with Voltari, I would not have questioned it.”

  Angus smiled and nodded. “No offense taken,” he said. “I have found that mentioning Voltari tends to elicit discomfort in some of the people I meet, so I tend not to mention him.”

  Vindray nodded. “His skills are well known here,” he said. “Although his talents lean in darker directions, his abilities are most highly respected.”

  “Good,” Angus said. “Now, as for my companion, he is also staying at Hedreth’s. I am sure your stableman would be more than welcome to speak with him tomorrow if need be.”

  Vindray nodded. “Of course. Is there any other service I may provide to you?”

  “Yes,” Angus said. “Would it be possible for me to visit your library? I have some historical research to do, and I assume there will be such tomes within your collection.”

  “Our library is quite extensive,” Vindray said. “However, it is not open to visitors at night. You will need to return during the day and seek permission from the librarian to review what materials are available.”

  “I will do that,” Angus said. “Perhaps if I come tomorrow morning, I will be able to see the stableman while I am here?”

  “I am sure we can arrange that,” Vindray agreed.

  “I have but one other question,” Angus continued. “Voltari suggested I might find employment in Hellsbreath, and I would like to know what prospects are available here. Perhaps you can direct me to those who have an interest in hiring a wizard of my abilities?”

  Vindray frowned. “The Wizards’ School is always looking for master wizards,” he said. “Both for teaching and for maintaining the spells that keep the city safe. However, you will have to prove you have the abilities you claim, and that is a rigorous process. If you had been trained here, it would be much simpler.”

  Angus shrugged. “I seek only information for now,” he said. “Once I have that information, I will choose my course of action.”

  “What kind of information?” Vindray asked.

  “Expectations, payment—the normal sort of thing, I suppose you could say.”

  “Ah,” Vindray began, “the answers will depend upon your ability. They won’t be able to answer those questions until you have been tested.”

  “I see,” Angus frowned. “Well, I can pursue the matter further tomorrow. Night is approaching, and the day has been long. Until then?”

  Vindray nodded. “If I am not on duty, feel free to send for me when you arrive. I would be pleased to show you around the school.”

  Angus nodded. “Good night, Vindray,” he said.

  “Good night, Master Angus.”

  Hobart barely hesitated before turning and joining Angus as he walked briskly away from the gate.

  “Well,” Angus muttered. “They know I’m here, now. I wonder what they’ll do about it.”

  “Probably sell you the horse,” Hobart said.

  Angus chuckled. “If my discussions go well tomorrow,” he said, “I will likely be able to tell you if I will be joining your banner or not.”

  “Good,” Hobart said, taking long, swift strides.

  Angus hurried to keep pace with him, thinking, I wonder what I will find in the history books….

  9

  Angus set yet another book aside and turned to the next one Embril had brought to him. She was a delightfully helpful librarian, one with a great deal of knowledge, energy, and optimism. Her eyes were a bit odd, though; one was brown and the other blue, and it gave her face an almost sinister appearance. But the sinister quality disappeared entirely when she smiled and little flecks of happiness danced across their surface and they almost merged to form a single blue-tinted brown shade he couldn’t identify. At least, that’s what he told himself was happening, even though he knew it was only his imagination playing with his sentiments. Then again, her long, straight, red hair, shapely figure beneath the dark green robe, and lilting little laugh made him feel much younger than he was—or was he really that young? Perhaps if he stayed in Hellsbreath….

  The next tome was an old one, like all the others, and he opened it carefully. He set it upright on its spine and peeled it apart in the middle, easing the front and back covers to the table. It crackled as if the glue in the spine was struggling against a great force, and then it gave way and settled into a strained silence. The pages were discolored, as if it had been dropped in water at some point, but the ink remained legible, though faded. He leafed to the front of the book and began reading.

  I am Fyngar, chronicler of the Kingdom of Urm. I have been Urm’s chronicler since before the Great Expansion, the records of which may be found in the official chronicle, The Glory of Urm. That text is a lie. It depicts those tragic events in the manner most favorable to King Urm and omits that which would tarnish his name. Much was left out. This tome, which will remain concealed among the wizards until such time as its contents may be received without malice, tells the truth of that dreadful time and records the depths of Urm’s avarice and maleficence.

  Angus read quickly through the disparaging remarks about King Urm and his sadistic pleasures until Fyngar’s disgust dwindled and the facts began to appear.

  It was late summer, not long before the harvest would begin, that King Urm gathered together his army. It was a small army, scarcely more than one thousand men, and he led them into the lands of the plains folk. The plains folk were a kind and generous people who had offered much guidance to the peoples of Urm when they arrived. Land, food, knowledge—all were freely given by the plains folk, and Urm greedily accepted them. But it was not enough. Urm wanted more.

  The army left the walls of Urmag and entered the vast expanse of grain, seeking out the plains folk wherever they might be. It was days before the harvest, and the plains folk were living quietly in their villages, each one but a handful of families knitted together by kinship. They were a peaceful, generous people who knew nothing about war. When Urm ordered his men to kill them, there was nothing they could do but die. He gave that order again and again and again, killing all the plains folk within fifty miles of Urmag. Beyond that limit, he set fire to the grain.

  The fire was a hideous conflagration expanding outward from the grain he had captured and secured. It spread through the plains folk, leaving behind decimated village after decimated village, charred body after charred body. They tried to flee, but the fire was too fast. Only a handful survived by the largest rivers. But not for long. Most starved within days. The ones who didn’t die learned how to catch and eat fish, a stark contrast to their strictly vegetarian diet. The fires did not stop until they reached the swamps to the north, the moun
tains to the west and south.

  In a single, vicious stroke, the empire of plains folk was destroyed, and Urm moved into the vacancy, setting up garrisons at strategic points and populating the land between with farming villages. There was nothing the plains folk could do to prevent it. The few survivors had fled and were not heard from again.

  Angus skimmed through several paragraphs before backtracking to reread a section more closely.

  The remnants of the plains folk have been encountered only rarely since the destruction of their empire. Many have already forgotten them. But I have not. They were a beautiful people, a kind people. In times of harvest, they were plentiful; in times of deep winter, their numbers dwindled. I studied them before their demise, and was one of the few who were given the privilege of observing their rituals. One in particular was of great interest and beauty: The Replication Ceremony.

  Two years prior to the Great Expansion, King Urm gave me leave to investigate their cultural practices. I lived with them from one harvest to the next. The Replication Ceremony happened shortly after the beginning of the second harvest, and my friend Utin invited me to observe it. The plains folk gathered around a pile of grain that was taller than they were and began eating. I have never seen anyone eat as much as they did over the next few hours, and when they finished, they joined hands and sat down. As the minutes went by, a thin cocoon-like mesh formed around them, connecting them