Chapter 348: The Usual Suspect
The Usual Suspect
Labouring to make ink in the workshops gave Martel the chance to question Master Jerome as the latter stopped by the small laboratory to check on his progress. As the artificer was about to leave, satisfied with Martel's performance, the acolyte quickly spoke up. "Master Jerome, I've a question about enchantment."
"Again? I seem to recall that's happened before. You know, you'll get lessons soon enough." His eyes twinkled.
"This might fall outside the lessons," Martel explained. "I was at a temple containing a relic, and it lay inside a chest. What's curious is that the chest was locked by enchanted Archean letters."
"And this awoke your curiosity?"
"I just wondered what's different from how we do enchantment. You don't use letters, do you?"
The artificer shook his head. "We cast the spell with the intended effect on the object, weaving magic and material together, in a sense. I've never really studied how the Archeans did it, but it sounds similar to how those northerners do it with their runes. Using a symbol to hold the spell in place."
The thought had occurred to Martel, though there had to be a difference. After all, he was being taught how to use Tyrian runes, but nobody used Archean letters for enchantment. Or did they? "Anybody who enchants how the Archeans did?" If someone had that knowledge, they might also know how to overcome such an enchanted lock.
Master Jerome scratched the back of his neck. "Never heard of that. No wizards of Archen left, after all."
"Could anyone have figured out how they did it?"
"I can't imagine so. Anyone with an interest in enchantment would have learned it here at the Lyceum, from me." The artificer gave Martel a scrutinising look. "Something you'd hope to accomplish, perhaps?"
"Oh, no, master, I am happy to learn from you." That part was true; enchantment seemed complicated to learn. Martel would definitely prefer to have an experienced teacher guide him.
"Alright, well, get back to it. This place swallows ink faster than sailors on shore leave can empty a tavern of ale."
***
His morning chores done, Martel left the Lyceum briefly to buy an oatcake from the girl selling them on the square. He had learned what he could from his teachers; it was time to meet his contact and discuss their next move.
Three bells later, Martel sat in a tavern opposite the enigmatic Keeper of the Pact. It struck him that he had no idea what the guy was called; presumably, the Keeper preferred it that way.
"You wanted to meet?"
"Yeah. I've tried to find out what I could about the relic, the enchanted lock and so on," Martel began to explain. "Not that there's a lot to say. Neither relics nor Archean enchantment are studied at the Lyceum."
"You learned nothing?"
"I wouldn't go that far," the acolyte protested. "As we talked about, the relic seems to leave some magical trace of its presence behind. Considering how powerful that felt even in its absence, I think I can sense it if I just get close. And it's not like I can mistake it for anything else. So if we have an idea where to look, even if I can't see the relic, I should be able to know if it's there or not."
"Very well. I do have some ideas on where we should look."
"Good, because I don't," Martel admitted.
The Keeper gave his half-earnest smile. "We already know of one thief capable of acquiring the means to suppress magical measures and with no qualms about stealing from a sacred place."
"You mean Ruby." It took Martel a moment to realise he had just confirmed what the Friar had perhaps only suspected, and his mouth became a thin line.
"I do. No need to look consternated. None had interest in the stolen will other than Lady Pearl. It was not hard to guess her involvement." The Keeper cleared his throat. "As for the relic, its absence serves only the one purpose of destabilising the Pact. Given her feud with the Comtesse, that would suggest our bald purveyor of flesh intends to strike at her rival."
"I suppose." Martel preferred not to speculate too much about the Nine Lords. He had made a deal with the Friar to help find the relic; otherwise, he had no desire to get caught in between these criminals. "These two thefts aren't the same, though. At the convent, the magical protection was Tyrian runes. At the shrine, it was Archean enchantment."
"Well, you're the expert, so you tell me. If this Ruby could get her hands on something to suppress a Tyrian rune, could she not obtain something similar for the Archean lock?"
Martel was about to answer in the negative when a thought made him pause. On the surface, these were two completely different schools of magic. He would not expect one to have any influence on the other. Yet he remembered their one similarity, which he had considered earlier. Both used symbols to create an effect. If a Tyrian rune could suppress other Tyrian symbols, might it also do the same for Archean letters? While he initially would have doubted this, Martel knew too little to dismiss it. "It's possible."
The Keeper regarded the acolyte with a satisfied expression. "In that case, I suggest we begin our search. If Lady Pearl has taken the relic – and given its value and importance, it is reasonable to assume she would keep it close – we know where to look for it."
Martel licked his lips. His throat felt dry, and not from lack of sustenance; a half-empty mug of ale stood on the table in front of him. "I am not exactly welcome at The River Pearl."
His strange companion arched an eyebrow. "Curious. But no matter. I did not intend for us to appear as ourselves." The Keeper leaned forward with one of his sly smiles. "Tell me, have you ever attended a masquerade?"
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