Deceive and Be Deceived
Chris watched Hel portioning out mana stones to the Seed Cultivation mages and raised a hand.
"And what about me?"
"You'll have to see to that yourself."
For a moment Chris only stared.
"I don't have any mana stones."
"That's your problem."
The sheer nerve of it left him speechless.
"You drag a man here against his will, and now you mean to cast me off like a worn-out shoe? Where under heaven is there a rule like that?"
"I find you suspicious. I meant to haul you along to the very end, but mana stones are too precious to waste on that. Be grateful I didn't kill you."
"Aigoo. Truly, I'm grateful."
He laced the words with scorn and stepped back. Clinging to them would get him nothing; they were never going to spare him a stone.
Ethan vanished. Hector vanished. Joffrey vanished. Last of all Hel took the magic circle and was gone.
Chris was left alone.
"Damn it."
He let a string of curses run their course, then crossed to the place where the Divine Language was inscribed and carved the shapes of the characters into his memory.
Chris linked with the Mask every day. He wanted to know whether Agent No. 1 was still somewhere in the ruins, and whenever that first window glowed, his mind, for reasons he couldn't quite name, grew steady. Then one day the Mask's windows changed. A fifth window revealed itself.
Agent No. 5 has entered the ruins!
Chris shot to his feet.
Did they come down somewhere like we did? And if they did, will they come here?
He set to work in a bustle, drawing the surrounding earth in until the magic circle was buried completely, transplanting grass over the spot and scattering stones until the ground looked undisturbed. Then he waited.
A day passed, and a second, and a third, and a fourth, and between his brows a crease took shape—the sort people commonly call a worry line.
We found this place before a day was out. They're taking their time. Did they drop somewhere else?
He nearly launched himself into the sky for a look, then thought better of it for fear of lightning. Instead he climbed onto the roof and studied the jungle.
When thunder rolled the next day, he clapped. They had lost the road and resorted, at last, to scouting from the air. That told him two things. First, Agent No. 5's party had come down in a jungle much like his own. Second, they already knew that taking to the sky brought the lightning down.
That night the ones he had been waiting for finally showed themselves. The moment Chris saw them, they saw him, and they closed the distance at speed. They formed ranks before the house where he sat perched and leveled their staves. The curly-haired mage at their head spoke.
"Who are you?"
Chris answered with perfect calm.
"I was taught that a guest ought to give his name first. It's only polite."
The short-tempered mage beside the curly-haired one menaced him in a grating voice, like a crow's caw.
"If you don't want to die, answer the question."
"All right."
Chris jumped down from the roof. The mages must have felt the threat in it; they gave ground a step apiece. He inclined his head with careful courtesy.
"My name is Sid."
"Sid?"
"You've never heard it, I imagine. I'm with Hermann Magic Tower."
The moment he named his tower they spread with a rustle, like a fan snapping open, and set a watch on every side. They seemed to fear a Hermann ambush.
"It's only me. You needn't be on your guard."
In that instant Willpower came at him like a wave. The curly-haired mage was the one who had sent it.
"Isn't this rather rude, for a first meeting?"
Chris made no effort to hide his displeasure. Inwardly he felt otherwise. Mages had treated him as if he were beneath notice more than once or twice; he was used to letting it pass.
Once the curly-haired mage had taken the measure of him, he relaxed.
"Nothing special. Seed Cultivation."
Chris put on a show of bristling.
"Nothing special? I'd rather you didn't slight a man to his face."
The curly-haired mage went right on ignoring him. He turned to his companions.
"How's the area?"
"Nothing suspicious."
They lowered their staves and fell to talking among themselves.
Chris lifted a hand, wearing an awkward look.
"Excuse me. There is a person standing here."
They ignored him still.
"The people of Mickclonia Magic Tower have no manners."
At that the curly-haired mage came closer and glared.
"You know who we are?"
Of course I do. I've never seen you before, but that bastard over there is Randal, the one who burned Jack to death, and the bastard beside him is the one who suffocated Henry to keep the rest in line. Standing quietly behind the pair are their disciples, David and Peter, and the one next to Peter is Harvey, itching to cut into living bodies. The man beside you is new to me, but I can guess well enough. Harvey's standing so meekly in the back that you must be Sheikh—the one who carried word of ring-binding and dropped Randal and William into a pit of jealousy.
Then he smiled.
"We're all meeting for the first time. How would I know any of you?"
"Then how did you guess right?"
"It's obvious, isn't it? I'm from Hermann, so you aren't Hermann. Rapunian Magic Tower holds the key, so they would have come in long ago. That leaves only Mick Magic Tower. And since you aren't the Three Great Elders, you must be the party that followed. The elders came through earlier, I assume?"
"Where are the other mages?"
"Other mages? Who do you mean? Our people, from Hermann?"
"Yes."
"They left ahead of me."
"When?"
"About a fortnight ago."
"Why were you left behind alone?"
Chris heaved a sigh deep enough to sink the ground.
"I was given an important mission."
"What mission?"
"To deal with whoever came after."
At that, David and the other mages of the Thought Formulation realm drew their staves as one. Chris clapped.
"Oh, magnificent. So perfectly in step. Did you train with the army?"
Sheikh spoke.
"Going to carry the mission out?"
Chris raised both hands in surrender.
"I haven't the slightest thought of it. Not a speck."
"You mean to disobey orders from above?"
"It sounds pleasant when you call it a mission. The truth is, I was abandoned."
"Abandoned?"
"This is the Horace Ruins."
"And?"
"High mages were bound to come pouring in together. How was I supposed to stop them with skill as thin as mine? I'd picked up stray hairs of their dislike, and they left me here alone."
"Stray hairs?"
"I made a few mistakes while I was carrying out the mission..."
The curly-haired mage spoke.
"Stray hairs ought to be plucked."
He flicked a glance, and Randal, the fire mage, stepped forward.
"Yes. I'll burn him clean."
Chris lowered the hands he had raised and made a show of warding them off.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. One moment."
Randal did not look inclined to wait. As he began to chant, Chris's composure cracked.
"I swear upon my mana—I hold information that will be of use to you."
"Hold."
Sheikh stopped Randal. Randal plainly disliked taking an order from him, but he could not refuse.
Watching that reaction, Chris understood that Sheikh had succeeded in binding his rings and stepped into Ring Binding. A colleague had become a superior overnight, and Randal was chafing under it.
"What information?"
"I can't say."
"Why not?"
"Because the moment I do, you'll kill me."
"We won't kill you. Speak."
"I have conditions."
"Conditions?"
Sheikh's brow twitched.
"You dare set conditions? Do you imagine you're in any position to?"
"I ought to get something out of this as well."
"This won't do. I'll kill you."
"Do as you like."
Chris drew his magical power up, compressed it hard, and wrapped it around his heart, his brain, and his Klpandi. If it came to it, he was ready to detonate the lot and grind himself to powder.
The curly-haired mage stepped in.
"What do you want?"
"If the information proves useful, you leave me be and give me fifty top-grade mana stones."
Sheikh snorted.
"Fifty? You said fifty? And top-grade besides? He's lost his mind."
"I'm only asking if you acknowledge that it's useful."
"And if we judge it lacking?"
"Then you needn't pay. But you won't find it lacking."
The curly-haired mage spoke.
"Fine. I promise. Now speak."
"This is a trade my life hangs on, and I don't even know your names. Let's introduce ourselves first."
Chris bowed his head.
"I'll introduce myself again. I am Sid, of Hermann Magic Tower."
The curly-haired mage considered for a moment.
"I am Hal."
Chris folded at the waist.
"The Tower Master. It is an honor to meet you."
When I lived at Mick Magic Tower I never once laid eyes on the Tower Master, and here he is. Somehow it leaves a sour taste.
"I'm Sheikh."
His guess had been right. Chris kept a tight hold on his face so the sour look wouldn't surface. Something about black mages put him off.
The rest gave their names in turn.
"A pleasure to meet the Tower Master and the six mages. Now then, let us swear a Mana Oath."
Randal spoke.
"An oath?"
"We belong to rival towers. What am I supposed to trust when I spill what I know? I'll swear first."
Chris laid mana into his voice.
If you do me no bodily or mental harm, and if you grant me fifty top-grade mana stones, I will give you information of real use.
This I swear upon my mana.
He watched their faces. No one spoke.
"While everyone else is merrily hunting treasure, do you mean to wander lost in this backwater?"
Tower Master Hal muttered.
"He's right. We haven't the time."
He swore upon his mana, and then he warned Chris.
"I will be the one to judge whether the information is useful."
Chris rubbed his hands together.
"Of course you should."
"I tend to evaluate strictly."
"I can satisfy even a strict judge. Everyone, please step back."
He had them retreat.
"Good."
Chris drew his sword.
"Let's begin."
Randal put a stop to it.
"Wait."
"Why?"
"You're a mage. Why aren't you wearing a robe, and why don't you use a staff?"
"They were ruined, so I threw them away."
"How?"
"Lightning struck me."
"So you flew."
"Yes."
"Does Hermann Magic Tower not even possess the information that flying in the ruins is dangerous?"
"My superiors knew. I didn't. They were kind enough to tell me after I'd been struck and fallen. That's what comes of picking up stray hairs of their dislike."
"You're a fool."
"I heard thunder before you arrived. No need for people who got themselves struck by lightning to turn around and preen—"
Randal cut him off.
"We scouted from the air because we had no choice. We were looking for the road."
Sheikh spoke.
"And what does that matter now? Randal, shut your mouth."
Randal flushed red and withdrew.
These gentlemen really can't stand one another.
Chris spun the sword in lazy circles and worked his lips as if he were chanting. The mana he had shaped surged up. Earth-attribute mana formed the bones, and wind mana closed over them the way flesh knits onto a skeleton. When that woven power moved, the wind roared. Soil tore away on the blast, and for an instant the magic circle beneath flashed into view. In that same instant the power changed. The wind-attribute mana that had been the flesh vanished, and pure earth mana took its place. The soil covering the circle lifted intact and was shoved aside.
"Haa."
Chris let out a long breath and dispersed his power.
"This is the information I prepared."
Tower Master Hal spoke.
"A teleportation circle."
"Yes."
"Where does it lead?"
"I've never used it, so I don't know. But..."
Chris gestured at the land around them and went on.
"The mere fact that you can escape this barren place is worth something. For reference, a fortnight ago our tower's Tower Master traveled through this very circle."
"As you said. Useful information."
Hal produced a spatial pouch and spilled fifty top-grade mana stones onto the ground. Chris gathered them into his own pouch and murmured inwardly.
A tower master really is a wealthy man.