Chapter 7: An Inflammatory Incident

“Now, for you three.”

Maluhk spoke as he walked into the main room where Alcar, Olynka and Etienne had been chatting for the past several minutes. It was a relatively bare lounge with a wall of books that showed numerous gaps. Besides this feature, the room was furnished only with a single comfortable chair and a low table, likewise piled high with books.

It was evident to Alcar that the sorcerer lived alone.

“What do you need us to do?” said Alcar.

Etienne was leaning on the back of the chair, while Olynka was standing in a dark in corner, arms folded and her hood still raised. Her usual cheerful grin was absent, and Alcar wondered if she was upset because she had been ordered by Maluhk to leave her bow at the main door.

“As you can see,” said Maluhk, stopping and gesturing to the books on the table, “I have a great many volumes, magical texts and books of lore, that require some attention. In short, I need to you to dust them, and file them away. Alphabetically, of course – hopefully that should need no explanation.”

Etienne ran one finger over a fine-looking volume bound in red leather that sat atop a stack of books near one end of the table. “Are these worth much?” he asked.

Maluhk stepped closer, frowning down at his diminutive guest. “Don’t get any ideas, halfling. Now, what’s your name?”

“Etienne.”

“Ah, yes... the light-fingered rogue recommended by my local barkeep. I may have other duties in mind for you. But all in good time.” Maluhk sighed, folded his arms, and looked at Alcar and Olynka with a sly and toothy grin. “I like this group. I anticipate good things from you. Compliance – sweet compliance. Not like the ones outside. Demonkind are always unpredictable, and as for the dwarves, well...” Maluhk glanced over his shoulder and then took a step closer. “I don’t trust them,” he added with a wink.

Olynka peered at the spellcaster. “Is there something in your eye, Master Maluhk?” she asked innocently.

He glared at the young woman, and she smiled back, her joie de vivre apparently restored. “It was a conspiratorial wink, dear girl. The thing is, and just between us...” He glanced behind him again. “I have had some bad relations with the dwarves of Clan Ironrock, and I think those two may have been sent here as spies.”

“Really?” Etienne moved closer, eyes intent. “That is interesting. Perhaps we should watch them for you? Tail them around the city, perhaps?”

Maluhk looked back at the halfling. “I think you’d be good at that, wouldn’t you? Well, there is no need to act on this information just yet. But if you see anything strange, you tell me. Yes? Now, here are a pile of cloth dusters. I’ll be upstairs in my study for half an hour or so. Work hard!”

With that, the master sorcerer left the room, and each of the three applicants picked up a book from the table.

“This was not what I had in mind,” said Alcar, “when I asked about being a sorcerer’s apprentice. I wanted to get away from books.”

“Year’s of study, remember,” said Olynka.

“Mmm. Let’s hope that Maluhk rejoins his adventuring friends sooner rather than later.”

The three hopefuls slowly began to the work of lifting books, dusting them carefully, and trying to locate where on the shelf they should go. There was signs of water damage to the otherwise-magnificent floor-to-ceiling bookcase, and Alcar wondered to himself if this was connected to the repairs on the roof.

Etienne began working rapidly, dusting and filing books in a smooth motion and apparently without much of a need for thought. But having filed only around a dozen books, the halfling seated himself on the table and began lighting his pipe once again.

“Hey, halfling,” said Olynka. “Get your ass over here and start organizing more of these tomes.”

“I have done enough for now, Olynka the Bow.”

Alcar looked at the book in his hand. It was confusingly labelled, and dirty too. He had only put one book away on the shelves so far. “Man, we need you – you’re clearly much better at this than I am.”

“It’s true,” replied Etienne. “I am more of a technically-minded individual than most. That’s why I believe that the two of you are more suited to this... manual labor.”

Alcar snorted, frowning at the halfling. “Come on, now, Etienne. Don’t be a dick. Remember that I could have ratted you out earlier, and I chose not to.”

“Maybe he’s right, though,” said Olynka, putting down the book she was holding and folding her arms. “Who need’s this shit? I’m here to make contact with Warlik, and hopefully Lox’aar the archer, too. And as soon as Maluhk realizes who my family are, I’ll be out. I don’t need to make a good impression, just keep a low profile.”

Etienne looked at Olynka thoughtfully as she spoke, and then raised his feet onto the table as he puffed some more on his pipe. “I mean, I think there is one thing we can all agree upon,” he said.

Now Alcar put down the book he was holding and took a step closer to the halfling. “What’s that, then?”

“We all want an adventure, not the chores of a fat old wizard.”

“He’s a sorcerer,” said Olynka.

“Whatever, lass. I mean, perhaps I’d find out the difference if he taught us something.”

Alcar looked nervously towards the door, wondering if Maluhk had some way of hearing their conversation. “Come on guys. It’s only day one. He said that if we do this, there’s a more interesting mission to come. This is the pathway to adventure. I feel it in my bones.”

Olynka sighed, and picked up another book. “He said that there was another mission,” she replied. “But what if that turns out to just be another chore? ‘Deliver my letter, clean my windows, buy me some ale’. I mean, Alcar – have you asked yourself if you are just signing up for slavery at this point?”

Alcar paused. It was true that he didn’t enjoy hard work. But Maluhk was a real sorcerer, and the prospect of adventure – and of a life away from the poor quarter – was strong. He needed to get his teammates to pull their weight, at least until the first task was complete. No – to more than pull their weight.

“Guys – listen. I suck at this thing with the books, and I’m never going to get it done myself. But if we don’t work together, we won’t get a chance to see what comes next. If it doesn’t amount to any more than running the sorcerer’s errands for him, then fine. I’ll walk, and you can too. But let’s at least find out, no?”

Etienne grunted, now puffing on his pipe. “Fine. Just let me have my smoke, and I will return and lend my considerable dexterity and observational skills to the cause.”

“Man – just come and do it now. The guy could be back any minute. You can smoke later.”

With another grunt, Etienne puffed twice more on his pipe, then put it down on the pile of books near the edge of the table. Then he stepped over to the others. “So you actually want to be an apprentice sorcerer, Alcar? I was assuming everyone here had their own agenda. The dwarves obviously do, and it sounds like this archer woman has other plans, too.”

Alcar shrugged. “Yeah, I come in search of adventure.”

Etienne gave the young man a sly smile. “Plucky kid from the poor quarter. Clumsy and wide-eyed. You’re perfect to be the sorcerer’s lacky.”

“Why are you here, then?” asked Olynka.

The halfling spun around, appraising the room. “Let’s just say that I’m a collector. It’s not often that you get a chance to look around a place like this. And as soon as the sorcerer goes outside to check on the dwarves, I’ll be taking a look at whatever treasures he has tucked away in his study.”

“So you’re a thief,” said Alcar.

Etienne frowned, then pointed at Olynka. “Well, you might say that, but what about her?” he said. “Shouldn’t she be guarding the city wall with her bow, or something?”

“I’m a decent archer, it’s true,” said Olynka. “But as it happens, I have some magical powers. More than you, I bet! Everyone back home in the village of Lorn said I was a witch, but I never much liked the sound of that. Brewing potions and all.”

Alcar was nodding thoughtfully. The more time that passed, the more gloomy he was becoming. Certainly nobody had ever said that he had natural talent for magic. And he couldn’t even match a halfling thief’s aptitude for filing spellbooks.

It was just as well he was a born leader...

Just then, Olynka’s eyes widened, and she pointed at the table. “Etienne – your pipe!”

The all looked the way she was indicating. Where the halfling had placed his down pipe on the red book, the glowing weed and rocks had slipped out of the pipe and landed on the topmost book, which was now smouldering, a thin plume of dark smoke rising up towards the high ceiling of the chamber.

“Shit,” said Alcar. “Someone get some water!”

“And soak these magical books?” yelped Olynka. “Quick – we need to blow it out!” She hurried forward and began to blow on the flames, only for the glowing embers to glow more brightly, and further yellow and blue flames to leap up. She stepped back, opening and closing her mouth.

Etienne was now close at hand, and he reached out and grabbed his pipe, then bashed it on the edge of the table to empty out its contents. This served only to drop further glowing debris on the rug, which now also caught fire, spreading across the woollen surface and giving off a very thick and cloying gray smoke. The fire on the table, meanwhile, had spread to the next pile of books, with a scroll on top catching light and going up quickly with a crackling bang.

Just then, Alcar heard Master Maluhk’s footsteps on the stair. “I’m going to check on the group that is working on the roof,” said the sorcerer as he pushed open the door, “and then we can...”

Maluhk paused his eyes looking from the flaming table to the flaming rug and then to the barely-begun work at the back of the room. “Get OUT of here!” he yelled pointing to the door behind him and stomping into the room.

“Out, all of you, and do NOT return!”