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.”
Barrels, bottles, flasks, exotic instruments, jars containing bits of animals swimming in foul-smelling liquids, and a vast array of other oddities cluttered the small office and spilled out into the hallway. Shelves of web-covered books lined the walls. Aquariums displayed living reptiles and fish. Cages stacked to the ceiling housed pigeons, mice, moles, raccoons, and rabbits, filling the cramped office with the sounds of chirps, chatters, and squeaks, which accompanied the musky scent of books, beeswax, spices, and animal dung.
“You cleaned up,” Royce said with feigned surprise as he carefully entered and stepped around the books and boxes scattered on the floor.
“Quiet, you,” the wizard scolded, looking over the top of his glasses, which rested at the end of his nose. “You hardly ever visit anymore, and you don’t need to be impertinent when you do.”
Royce closed the door and slid the bolt, which drew another look from the wizard. Then from his cloak he pulled out a silver amulet hanging from a thin chain. “What can you tell me about this?”
Arcadius took the jewelry from him and moved to his desk, where he held it near the flame of a candle. He looked at it only briefly, then lifted his spectacles. “This is Hadrian’s medallion. The one his father gave him when he turned thirteen. Are you trying to test me for senility?”
“Did you know Esrahaddon made it?”
“Did he?”
“Remember when I spoke with him in Dahlgren last summer? I didn’t mention it before, but according to him, the church instigated a coup against the emperor nine hundred years ago. He insists that he remained loyal and made two amulets. One he gave to the emperor’s son and the other to the boy’s bodyguard. He claimed to have sent them into hiding while he stayed behind. These amulets are supposed to be enchanted so only Esrahaddon could find them. When Arista and I were with him in Avempartha, he conjured images of the people wearing his necklaces.
“And you saw Hadrian?”
Royce nodded.
“As the guardian or the heir?”
“Guardian.”
“And the heir?”
“Blond hair, blue eyes, no one I recognized.”
“I see,” Arcadius said. “But you haven’t told Hadrian what you saw.”
“What makes you say that?”
The wizard let the amulet and the chain fall into his palm. “You’re here alone.”
Royce nodded. “Hadrian’s been moody lately. If I tell him, he’ll want to fulfill his destiny—go find this long-lost heir and be his whipping boy. He won’t even question it, because he’ll want it to be true, but I don’t think it is. I think Esrahaddon is up to something. I don’t want either of us to be pawns in his effort to bring his choice for emperor to the throne.”
“You think Esrahaddon is lying? That he conjured false images to manipulate you?”
“That’s what I came here to find out. Is it even possible to make enchanted amulets? If so, is it possible to locate the wearers by magic? And you knew Hadrian’s father. Did he ever say anything to you about being the guardian to the Heir of Novron?”
Arcadius turned the amulet over in his hand. “I don’t have the Art to enchant objects to resist magic, nor can I use magic to seek people, but a lot was lost when the Old Empire crumbled. Preserving him in that prison for nearly a thousand years makes Esrahaddon unique in his knowledge, so I can’t intelligently say what he is or isn’t capable of. As for Danbury Blackwater, I don’t recall him ever telling me he was the Guardian of the Heir. That isn’t the kind of thing I would likely forget.”