Chapter 1    -   Chapter 2    -   Chapter 3   (page 2 of 5)

         Sebastian looked into the eyes of the men surrounding him, and decided that there was no question as to the nature of their intent. The man who had suffered the hostilities of the Tesla Rod lay still on the floor despite their most determined attempts to revive him. Some gents had all the luck.

         The man directly in front of him smelled of magicker from head to foot. The angle of his posture, the way in which he held his hands, the permanent disdain reflected in his eyes, all spoke of one who knew the runes. And a powerful magicker at that; the Tesla Rod had been a complex piece of machinery. The others skulked around his periphery, faces twisted in rage. It was his presence alone that stopped them from avenging their fallen comrade. He spoke, straightening the cuffs of his shirt.

         "I take it you've surmised the desperate nature of your predicament. You seem a man not unfamiliar with situations such as these."
         "I could venture an educated guess as to the outcome."
         "Yes, and undoubtedly you'd be correct. I do applaud your efforts here, though. Were it not for my intervention, more than just one of these men's lives would have been forfeit."
         Glares from behind him. They knew he was right.
         "You're Willoughsby's man, are you not? That gnome has been very troublesome, despite my most rigorous efforts. Did you know he's brought in a mage from Tulla? Indeed, a most unfortunate affair."
         Sebastian was silent.
         "I'll assume you know what's happening here, so forgive me if I don't fill you in on the details before I go. I hate to be rude, but I've a pressing appointment this evening with your employer."
         "Just a moment, if you please. Could you answer two questions for me?"
         The mage seemed a bit annoyed. "Perhaps. What is it you'd like to know?"
         "I've recently created a device…its purpose is to detect men such as yourself. My actions here tonight would have been vastly different had I known of your presence. I'm at a loss as to why it malfunctioned."
         "You mean this?" The mage pulled the Flow Specktrometer from his jacket. "A crude piece of instrumentation. From what I gather, it only detects changes caused by magickal flows in the fields around it. Because I was not casting until your attack, your device showed nothing."
         Sebastian nodded absently. "I see. Very perceptive of you. I shall make the necessary improvements in its design."
         The irony of Sebastian's statement was not lost on the mage. He smiled thinly. "Was there anything else?"
         "Only one thing. Perhaps it's the expected question, so forgive me for being predictable."
         "Yes?"
         "I just wanted to know why."
         The mage was silent for a moment. "There are many apparent reasons, avarice being the most obvious choice. Tulla is a city of unbelievable wealth." He turned to go, but stopped. "Avarice, and absolution. I leave you to my associates."
         Sebastian smiled as the man turned away.

         Lorham had been walking the grounds for the better part of an hour, and all seemed in order. He'd received regular reports from the three patrols, as well as the men at the estate's front gate, and he'd made two circuits himself around the house proper. Everything was quiet and appropriate, and he was hard pressed to find even the smallest thing out of place.

         Very good, he thought.

         To Lorham, Mr. Willoughsby was the only family he had ever known. His first memories were of bright mornings spent stocking the estate's grand kitchens, of running through the damp and shadowed maple groves in search of trapped partridge and mushrooms. Long, sunlit afternoons spent with tutors in Grammar and History and Mathematics, and cool evenings in the stables among the hunting stallions and mares. And always Mr. Willoughsby, with a kind word when deserved, and a stern look when necessary. In all those years, never once had he raised a hand to Lorham, had always treated him fairly and expected nothing more than his best effort in everything.

         The half-ogre took a moment to reflect on the day's events, and then about the young mage from Tulla, and finally about Mr. Willoughsby and Sebastian. The situation was convoluted at best, but Lorham found that most things were simpler taken one step at a time. He knew he wasn't the quickest thinker, but, given time, he could solve most any problem. It was all just a matter of breaking things down, playing with the pieces, making connections. Mr. Willoughsby had taught him many things in the years of his employment, but the most important was to use the power of one's mind.

         After a while, Lorham found himself looking at the electric lanterns swinging lazily from their iron mountings on the mansion's façade, and he focused for a moment on the nature of their workings as the beginnings of an idea crept into his mind. He stood there, motionless, thinking about the house and what he knew of science, the minutiae of the criminal mind. For Lorham, these were large thoughts, but the complex is constructed of plainer parts; in a few minutes, he was loping off towards the service stairway that led to the manor's lower basements.

Continue the adventure . . .