Dryly, Jazhara said, “Unless, of course, he ordered it to attack first.”
The priest glanced at the magician, but did not respond to her observation. Turning to James, he said, “So be it. Let us begin.”
The two monks came to stand on either side of the Ishapian priest and began a low chant. After a moment, James felt a distinct cooling in the air, and heard the priest’s voice rising above the others. The language was tantalizingly familiar, but one he could not understand.
The demon glared from behind the barrier erected by the mystic symbols on the floor, helpless. From time to time its bovine features would contort and it would bellow a challenge, but finally it was done. James blinked in astonishment as one moment the creature stood there, then an instant later it was gone, the only evidence of its passing a subtle shift in the pressure of the air around them and a slight sound, as if a door closed somewhere nearby.
The priest turned to James. “The Temple is pleased to help the Crown but it would be better for all of us if you returned to the critical task set before you, Squire.”
“We were going to leave this morning, sir, but things have proved less convenient that I would have liked. We’ll go as soon as possible.”
The priest nodded impassively. “Brother Solon will be waiting for you at the gate at dawn tomorrow.” He turned and left the room, followed by the two monks.
James sighed. “Arutha won’t be pleased if we have to wait much longer.”
Jazhara said, “We have but one task left before we can go.”
“Find Kendaric,” James said. “And I think I know where to start.”
The Golden Grimoire was a modest but well-appointed shop. It was an apothecary store of sorts, but Jazhara recognized at once the contents of many jars and boxes to be ingredients a magician might employ. A sleepy looking young woman had let them in only upon James’s insistence they were on the Prince’s business. “What do you wish?” she asked once they were inside, suspicion in her voice.
James regarded her. This must be Morraine, he thought, the woman to whom Kendaric was engaged. She was slight in build, with a slender face, but pretty in a way. He thought that when fully dressed and awake, she probably looked a great deal more attractive.
James produced the shell and said, “Can you tell us what this is?”
Morraine raised her eyebrows. “Place it there, please.” She indicated a green felt cloth upon the counter next to which a lantern burned. James did so and she studied it closely for a bit. “This is a Shell of Eortis, I’m certain. It has powerful magic properties. There are only a few reputed to exist. It is an artifact of incalculable value to a sea captain or anyone else who must voyage across the ocean.” She looked at James. “Where did you get it?”
James admired the woman’s ability to maintain a calm demeanor. She would be no mean gambler, he thought. “I’m certain you know where we found it, Morraine,” he said.
Morraine held his gaze for a moment, then lowered her eyes. She betrayed no surprise at hearing her name. “Kendaric. We were lovers for a while, but my family forbade us to wed. I gave it to him as a gift. It was my dearest possession.” Then, almost defiantly, she added, “I haven’t seen him for a long time.”
James smiled. “You can stop lying. You don’t do it well. Kendaric is innocent and we have proof. It was Journeyman Jorath who had the Guild Master killed to mask his embezzlement of Guild funds.”
The woman said nothing, but her eyes flickered from face to face. Jazhara said, “You can believe us. I am Jazhara, the Prince’s court magician, and this is his personal squire, James. We require Kendaric’s presence for a most critical undertaking on behalf of the Crown.”
Morraine said softly, “Come with me.” She picked up the lantern from the counter and led them to a far wall, where several volumes rested upon shelves.
Jazhara glanced at the titles and saw that many of them were herbalist guides and primers on making remedies and potions, but that a few dealt with magical issues. “I shall have to return here when time permits,” she muttered.
Morraine removed one large volume, and the shelf slid aside, revealing a stairway going up. “This goes to a secret room in the attic,” she said.
She led them up the stairs and into a small room, barely able to hold a single bed and table. Upon the bed sat a man in a green tunic. He wore a goatee and mustache and had a golden ring in his left ear. “Who are these people?” he asked Morraine in a concerned tone, staring at James and Jazhara.
“They are from the Prince,” said Morraine.
“I didn’t do it!” exclaimed Kendaric.
“Calm yourself,” said James. “We have proof it was Jorath who had the Guild Master killed.”