“There are some, of course, who take advantage of the temporary transformation to dupe the unwary, creating a very realistic fool’s gold that hours later reveals itself to be lead.”
The lecture room was lined with tiers of seats, all filled with identically gowned students. At the podium stood the lore master, a thin elderly man with a blue robe, a white beard, and spectacles perched on the end of his nose.
“The danger here is that once the ruse has been discovered, the victim is often more than mildly unhappy about it.” This comment drew laughter from the students. “Before you put too much thought into the idea of amassing a fortune based on illusionary gold, you should know that it’s been tried. This crime—and it is a crime—usually results in the victim taking out his anger on the perpetrator of the hoax in the form of a rather unceremonious execution. This is why you don’t see your master of lore, dressed in the finest silks from Vandon, traveling about in an eight-horse carriage with an entourage of retainers.”
More laughter.
Arista was unclear whether the lecture was at an end or if Arcadius spotted the party on the rise and cut the class short. In any case, the lore master closed his instruction for the day with reminders about homework and dates of exams. As most of the students filed out, a few gathered around their professor with questions, which he patiently addressed.
“Give me a chance to introduce you,” Arista said as they descended the tiers. “I know Arcadius looks a little … odd, but he’s really very intelligent.”
“And the frog exploded, didn’t it?” the wizard was saying to a young man wearing a sober expression.
“Made quite a mess too, sir,” his companion offered.
“Yes, they usually do,” Arcadius said in a sympathetic tone.
The lad sighed. “I don’t understand. I mixed the nitric acid, sulfuric acid, and the glycerin and fed it to him. He seemed fine. Just as you said in class, the blackmuck frog’s stomach held the mixture, but then when he hopped …” The boy’s shoulders slumped while his friend mimicked an explosion with his hands.
The lore master chuckled. “Next time, dissect the frog first and remove the stomach. There’s a lot less chance of it jumping then. Now run along and clean up the library before Master Falquin gets back.”
The two boys scampered off. Royce closed the door to the lecture hall after them, at which point the princess felt it was safe to remove her cloak.
“Princess Arista!” Arcadius exclaimed in delight, walking toward her with his arms wide. The two exchanged a fond embrace. “Your Highness, what a wonderful surprise! Let me look at you.” He stepped back, still holding her hands. “A bit disheveled, soaking wet, and tracking mud into my classroom. How nice. It’s as if you’re a student here again.”
“Master Arcadius,” the princess began formally, “allow me to introduce Royce Melborn and Hadrian Blackwater. They have some questions for you.”
“Oh?” he said, eyeing the two curiously. “This sounds serious.”
“It is,” Hadrian replied. He took a moment to search the room for any remaining students while Royce locked the doors.
Arista saw the puzzled expression on her instructor’s face and explained, “You have to understand they’re cautious people by trade.”
“I can see that. So I’m to be interrogated, is that it?” Arcadius asked accusingly.
“No,” she said. “I think they just want to ask a few questions.”
“And if I don’t answer? Will they beat me until I talk?”
“Of course not!”
“Are you so sure? You said that you think they’re here to ask questions. But I think they’re here to kill me, isn’t that right?”
“The fact is you know too much,” Royce told the wizard, his tone abruptly turning vicious. He reached into his cloak and drew out his dagger as he advanced on the old man. “It’s time we silenced you permanently.”
“Royce!” Arista shouted in shock. She turned to Hadrian, who sat relaxed in the front row of the lecture hall, casually eating an apple plucked from the lore master’s table. “Hadrian, do something,” she pleaded.
The old man shuffled backward, trying to put more distance between him and Royce. Hadrian did not respond, eating the apple like a man without a worry in the world.
“Royce! Hadrian!” Arista screamed at them. She could not believe what she was seeing.
“Sorry, Princess,” Hadrian finally said, “but this old man has caused us a great deal of trouble in the past, and Royce is not one to forgive debts easily. You might want to close your eyes.”
“She should leave,” Royce said. “Even if she doesn’t see, she’ll hear the screams.”
“So you’re not going to be quick?” the old man whispered.
Hadrian sighed. “I’m not cleaning the mess up this time.”
“But you can’t! I—I—” Arista stood frozen in terror.
Royce closed the distance between him and Arcadius in a sudden rush.
“Wait.” The wizard’s voice quavered as he held up a hand to ward him off. “I think I’m entitled to ask at least one question before I’m butchered.”
“What is it?” Royce asked menacingly, his dagger raised and gleaming.
“How is your lovely Gwen doing?”
“She’s fine,” Royce replied, lowering his blade. “She told me to be certain to tell you she sends her love.”
Arista glared at each of them. “But what—I—you know each other?”
Arcadius chuckled as Hadrian and Royce snickered sheepishly. “I’m sorry, my dear.” The professor held up his hands and cringed slightly. “I just couldn’t resist. An old man has so few opportunities to be whimsical. Yes, I’ve known these two surly characters for years. I knew Hadrian’s father before Hadrian was born, and I met Royce when he was …” The lore master paused briefly. “Well, younger than he is today.”
Hadrian took another bite of the apple and looked up at her. “Arcadius introduced me to Royce and gave us our first few jobs together.”
“And you’ve been inseparable ever since.” The wizard smiled. “It was a sound pairing. You have been a good influence on each other. Left on your own, the two of you would have fallen into ruin.”
There was a noticeable exchange of glances between Royce and Hadrian. “You only say that because you don’t know what we’ve been up to,” Hadrian mentioned.
“Don’t assume too much.” Arcadius shook a menacing finger at him. “I keep tabs on you. So what brings you here?”
“Just a few questions I thought you would be able to shed some light on,” Royce told him. “Why don’t we talk in your study while Hadrian and Arista settle in and get out of their wet things? Is it all right if we spend the night here?”
“Certainly. I’ll have dinner brought up, although you picked a bad day; the kitchen is serving meat pies.” He made a grimace.
Arista stood stiffly, feeling her heart still racing. She narrowed her eyes and glared. “I hate all of you.”
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