As the light faded from his vision, Eric stood erect and looked around. He was in some kind of lavish office, with a painting of Bora Bora in his mortal form hanging on one wall. Most of the office was taken up by one large mahogany desk, though some comfortable chairs were scattered around it, and yet two more occupied the space in front of a large, crackling fire. It was very cushy, Eric thought, especially in contrast to the prison he’d just been visiting.

“Get out! You’re bleeding on my carpet!”

Eric spotted the source of the voice. He raised an eyebrow in slight surprise as he saw Matthew Ciayol, and in front of him, sitting in the largest chair behind the desk, there was a fat, richly dressed noble. It was several minutes before Eric recognized Master Rainhall, his first employer as a guard. Rainhall’s comment reached him then, and he looked down to where the broken half of an arrow still stuck out from his arm. He grimaced as the pain registered itself, and lifted his left hand to yank it out. Then he realized he was still holding his swords, and sheathed them.

“Wait, Eric,” Samuel said, as casually as if they were preparing to cross a street. “You won’t want to pull that out just yet. Let me take care of it.”

Eric obliged, holding still and looking curiously at Matthew as Samuel placed on hand gingerly on the arrow shaft. Matthew had drawn his sword rapidly at Eric’s surprise appearance but was now returning it to its sheath, a bemused but cheerful smile on his face. He gave Eric the standard guard’s salute. Samuel, meanwhile, had retrieved the arrow with a slow and gentle tug. Blood began spurting at once out of the wound, but he put one hand on the gash and it was immediately healed.

“Ciayol!” Rainhall said, his voice far too loud for the small space. “Throw him out! I refuse to look at him!”

Matthew raised his eyebrows at Eric, then turned to the trader. “Once again, Rainhall, I am not your personal guard. I am assigned to watch over you, to ensure that you do not participate in more illegal trading.”

Rainhall seemed to realize the truth of this and sank back into his chair with an indignant hmph, which they all ignored. Eric was a little perplexed at Rainhall’s reaction to him. After all, he’d been a good guard and well-behaved employee. Maybe Rainhall just despised the entirety of his old guard. What did he expect, Eric wondered to himself? Were they supposed to fight the Queen’s Guard to protect him from arrest? Eric hadn’t been paid enough for that.

“You’re getting blood all over my carpet!” He squawked yet again.

“Oh, relax,” Samuel said, a little hint of steel entering his voice. He gave a quick wave of his hand, and the few drops that had managed to make it into the white carpet faded from existence. “Happy?”

The expression on Rainhall’s face made it clear he was anything but, however, he held his tongue. Something about the Archmage’s expression had told him it was best to be quiet and listen now. Eric and Matthew shared another bemused look. Now that Eric was healed, he returned the salute. Samuel returned himself to one of the upholstered chairs, gesturing for Eric to sit beside him.

“You should be a part of this meeting too, Eric,” he said with a grin. “It will be useful information for later.”

“Alright,” Eric said, settling himself down. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the red hue of Rainhall’s face. Had he always been this bumptious and entitled? “Continue, then.”

He gave no sign of his confusion regarding the meeting, not wanting Rainhall or Matthew to sense his utter bewilderment. Samuel noticed this and gave him a slight nod of approval. “Right. Back to our discussion. Marvin, I know that you were arrested for trading in stolen merchandise.”

“I haven’t been formally charged for that!” Rainhall protested at once, but Samuel silenced him with a raised finger. It was strange, at least for Eric, to see the mage so focused, so serious.

“That is only because your trial has yet to occur,” the Archmage said dryly. “You are released due to your willingness to help in my investigation. I assure you, there is quite enough evidence to keep you in the dungeons for a few years. Now. I want to know, were any of your dealings with Attos?”

“Attos?” Rainhall said, a sudden cold sweat showing on his brow. “Why would you suggest that? The man is an enemy of the Crown!”

“He isn’t, actually,” Samuel corrected. Eric made a quiet noise of surprise at this information but stifled it quickly. Samuel continued. “There is no doubt that we should consider him a large threat, however. So. I’ll ask you again. Were any of your dealings with Attos?”

Eric felt the faint surge of energy in the air around him. Rainhall answered flatly, with no emotion. “Yes. I sold Attos many magical wares. His representatives paid me handsomely, and I gained useful news about their trading market.”

“I thought as much,” Samuel said with a slightly smug smile. “What have you learned, regarding their recent trading trends?”

Eric shivered as he felt the touch of the magic against his skin. No matter what, he’d always dislike this spell. Quite apart from forcing someone to tell the truth, which was eerie enough on its own, this was the third time the spell had been used in his presence in under two months. Two of those instances had featured him as the intended target as well, he thought sourly.

“Attos is stockpiling rare materials and magical artifacts,” Rainhall said, his face slack. “They ignored my jewelry and fine crafts, only asking after my magically potent items. They offered me a good price to hunt down other pieces.”

“Which you stole,” Samuel said. It wasn’t a question, but Rainhall nodded. “Right. Who did you communicate with?”

“A captain of the merchant ship that Attos sends. I never learned his name. All my communications were through message spells and encoded letters.”

Samuel leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin thoughtfully at that. His violet eyes were inscrutable as he considered the reply, his face giving nothing of his thoughts away. Eric supposed that over five hundred years of life would tend to make one unreadable. Either Samuel had always owned a good poker face, or he practiced it. Either way, it was useful for interrogation.

“Where did you receive these letters?” Samuel asked finally. “Where did you go to collect them? Be precise.”

“They were always waiting for me in my warehouse in Sheran,” Rainhall replied, once again in that flat, expressionless tone. “They are put under a crate full of fake produce, just within the loading doors.”

Samuel nodded his understanding and waved his hand. A single piece of parchment and quill appeared. Samuel snatched both out of the air, leaned forward, and used Rainhall’s desk to write a few quick lines. When that was finished, he rolled it up tight and handed it to Eric. He accepted it without question, sure that Samuel would explain the action to him. In fact, he already had an inkling of what he’d be asked to do.

“After this meeting,” Samuel turned to him and spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “You will go to Sheran and find the crate he mentions. You’ll take any letters there, and if the mysterious conspirator appears, I want you to capture him. That letter will be useful if any of the Queen’s Guard question you.”

Eric nodded and tucked the parchment away into his satchel. “Very well.”

“Now, Marvin,” Samuel said, waving his hand to dispel the magic that he’d cast, “I will give you an opportunity to lessen your sentence.”

Rainhall’s eyes cleared at once and then set into a suspicious frown. “What do you mean?”

“You will continue your interactions with Attos, but with a new representative. Attos will suspect nothing, and we will gain an advantage in our preparations.”

Rainhall hesitated. Eric could see the inner discussion he was having. Should he accept this deal to shorten his sentence, and gain Attos as an enemy, or should he back Attos, and risk a harsher punishment? It all came down to who he thought was a bigger threat, Eric thought. Samuel seemed to sense this too, for his own energy was expanding. It filled the room and grew dense, almost suffocating them with its weight. Eric and Matthew fidgeted uncomfortably, but Rainhall looked as though he wanted to sink into his chair and disappear.

“I accept!” he gasped, lifting his hands as if to ward off a physical blow. “Please, stop that!”

In an instant, the pressure was gone. Samuel was smiling congenially and standing. Eric followed his suit. “Excellent. I shall be in touch with work for you to do shortly. In the meantime, we shall take our leave. Matthew, I look forward to our next meeting.”

Matthew offered Samuel and Eric a salute. “An honor, as always, Archmage. See you later, Eric.”

Eric gave half a wave as he followed Samuel out of the office, pausing slightly to see the crumpled and cowed form of Marvin Rainhall. He’d been completely dominated by the lanky mage, and he was confident there would be no treachery from the fat trader. He could learn a thing or two from Samuel, he thought, not for the first time. Then he allowed the door to close behind him with a snap. In the short time he’d taken to study Rainhall, Samuel was already down the hall and turning to descend a set of carpeted stairs. Eric hurried to catch up.

“Do you think Attos intends to declare war on Tyrman?” He asked in a low tone as he caught up. “Is that why you’re pursuing this particular line of investigation?”

Samuel let out a quiet sigh of frustration. It was the first time that Eric had seen his confidence damaged. “I think war with Attos is inevitable, but I highly doubt that he will make an official declaration. I think he will attack without warning, at a place where we are vulnerable. This is his style.”

“You’re guessing that because of how he attacked Zaban?” Eric asked. He’d finally learned the full events of the war over the past two months. “He stormed their harbor city, their only point of natural defense, and conquered it in over a day.”

“Yes,” Samuel said. “His naval power is second to none. I am convinced he will attack one of our port cities, and use that as a foothold to invade the rest of the nation.”

“So you want to fortify the port cities.”

“No,” Samuel said, with a shake of his head. “That move will be too obvious, and it reveals to Attos that his intelligence is compromised. I want to anticipate his strike and strike back before he gets a foothold. For this, I need more knowledge.”

“Okay,” Eric said slowly, understanding his thinking. “But if you know that the port cities are vulnerable, then wouldn’t doing nothing put them in more danger?”

“I am not doing nothing,” Samuel spoke softly, but his voice was unmistakably firm. Eric immediately regretted asking the question. “Knowledge is power, young Eric. Keep this in mind, and you’ll encounter far less nasty surprises in the future.”

That sounded like business advice rather than a genuine war tactic, Eric thought. But again, he wasn’t going to argue with a man so much more intelligent and powerful than himself. Instead, he let out his own sigh, and adjusted his tunic, tugging it straight. They reached the front doors of the estate, which was guarded by four more independent guards. They bobbed their heads respectfully as Samuel appeared, and cast Eric curious glances. Eric couldn’t blame them, as they’d not seen him enter the building. But they were clearly employed by the Archmage, so they asked no questions.

“This is where we part again,” Samuel said. “Send me a message the instant you have the conspirator in your custody. Or, if he doesn’t show for two days, contact me and come back.”

“Why two days?”

“Marvin couldn’t have received the letters more than once a month,” Samuel explained. “He’s been in custody for nearly a month. If you find one letter, then we can expect to spot the conspirator in the next two days. If you find two, then he’s already been by, and we missed him.”

“Fair enough,” Eric said. “Ready when you are, then.”

Samuel nodded. He put one hand on Eric’s shoulder. “Thank you for your help, Eric. I know that I committed a grave injustice, pulling you from your world without warning you or asking for permission.”

Eric grinned, perhaps a little ruefully. “I forgive you. Truth be told, I’ve had so much fun in Ahya, I would have agreed, as long as you didn’t put me through all these surprises.”

Samuel grinned back. “I couldn’t take the risk, as you know. Good luck, my friend.”