Wizard of Jatte, Rowan Erlking [latest novels to read .TXT] 📗

the recipes for cleaning and unclogging drains.

“Here! It says, Creations. That’s what I’m looking for.” He ran his finger down the page. “Ok, Seeking Fire. It says here that we need to make a fire ward. I guess I’ll have to find that spell too. Um, liquid spirits, the stronger the better—”

“What is that? Liquid spirits? You don’t mean you have to catch a ghost and—”

Ronen slapped Teppan on the back of his head. “No, stupid. Alcohol. Something liquid that burns.”

“Do you mind?” Theissen stared down at the pair of them.

Both his apprentices went silent, paling.

“Ok, it also lists spices: cinnamon, nutmeg, curry, cayenne pepper, black pepper and spearmint. I guess we’ll have to find a food market.” Theissen ran his finger down the rest of the list. “Well, that’s about it. I got the pot, though it asks for long handled rod rather than a spoon. I didn’t think about that. Maybe we ought to go back to that shop.”

“What shop?” Theobold asked, flapping his wings restlessly. He looked inclined to go flying again.

Gesturing to the other road, Theissen closed the book and hefted up his pot. “That one over there. I bought the pot there.”

Shrugging, the birdman hopped off the curb. “Ok, let’s go. No time like the present and all that.”

Smirking at him, Theissen noticed how much of a better mood Theobold was now in. It was true, deprive a birdman of his joy and he becomes poor company.

“Okay.” Theissen led them back.

The pair of men in front of the eatery had not moved from their seats. They could have even gathered dust in the time Theissen had gone. Both men looked up with real surprise when they saw the group come back, bow to them, and enter the shop once more.

“Hello!” Theissen called in through the open door.

“Oh! You’re back so soon! Was the pot not satisfactory?” the shopkeeper asked. He barely even noticed the others, but then they were standing around like they wouldn’t buy anything anyway.

Smiling at him, Theissen bowed once more. “No, the pot is fine. I think just bought the spoon in haste. I need a longer handled spoon or perhaps an iron poker to stir with.”

The shopkeeper blinked for a moment, then shrugged. “Whatever makes you happy, though I do have to wonder what a carpenter needs with a spell pot or a fire wand.”

“You know about that?” Theissen asked, walking straight over to the counter.

Nodding, the shopkeeper brought out a long handled spoon. “Sure. My father used to be an herbalist. I saw him do all sorts of magic before I left home.”

“Why did you leave home?” Theissen asked, peering at him.

The man just smiled kindly. “Oh, my father got me an apprenticeship with a tinsmith here in Jattereen. He thought it’d be more respectable and all that. He and my mother had to deal with being called witches. I’m sure a man like you who asks for these things must have some notion about what people think of witches.”

Theissen nodded. “I’ve heard.”

“You’re not an herbalist yourself, I take it?” The shopkeeper set out the spoon, extending his hand for the other one in trade. “That’s an extra three coppers by the way. The cost of this is six.”

Digging out his money pouch, Theissen gave him a smile. “No, I’m not an herbalist, but I met one once.”

“Left a good impression, I gather.” The shopkeeper took the coins then dropped them into his apron pocket.

Theissen nodded with a smile. “Yes.”

Theobold nudged him with a whisper. “You didn’t tell me this.”

Just shrugging, Theissen gathered up the spoon and was about to go.

“Wait.” Daanee then hurried to the counter. “I know this store doesn’t sell these sort of things, but we are looking for things that you’d put in a potion.”

“We can go to the market for that,” Theissen said to her, reaching the door.

She shook her head. “Oh, come on. Tell him what you are doing. I bet he would understand.”

“I’d bet he’d help,” Ronen added with nod, seeing what she was thinking.

Theissen paused. He glanced at Daanee then nodded to himself. Walking back, he set the things he had bought back on the counter.

“Ok, here’s the thing. I’m going to clean the Ki Tai tower out of all the spiders with a Seeking Fire.” He flopped open the Westhaven magic book to the page, pointing it out to the shopkeeper. “Here is the potion and with it is a spell. I trust this man’s magic, but I need some really strong liquid spirits and these spices. Can we get them from you?”

Staring from the page to Theissen’s face, the shopkeeper was speechless for about two seconds. Then he about laughed. “And you say you aren’t an herbalist? This is advanced magic.”

Theissen looked to the page and then shrugged. “Ok. But will you help us?”

“Help you? Do you actually think you can make this spell work?”

Heaving up a sigh, Theissen just shrugged. “Sure. Every one of this man’s spells is accurately done.”

Laughing again, the shopkeeper walked to the door to his back room. “Fine, I can get those things for you from my wife’s kitchen. Hold on a moment. I’m coming with you because I’ve got to see this with my own eyes.”

He was gone, leaving them to wonder if that shopkeeper thought they were mad or ingenious. Theissen caught Daanee’s smug glance. It said quite clearly that she had saved them hours of time. In fact, she grinned wider when the lady of the house came down with a basket bickering with her husband but heaving over several large jars of spices and a darkened bottle of liquor.

“Well, I’ll be. So they really are here.” She trotted into the room and nodded at Theobold before walking to the front door. “Well, come on! Are we gonna burn out those spiders or what?”

Almost immediately they hopped after her. They went back out onto the street as a group and in a procession up the hill around the corner.

The woman loved to talk. She was chattier than all Theissen’s aunts combined together in a room full of gossips. From the moment they stepped out onto the street she didn’t stop talking, mostly repeating herself from rapture.

“…When my husband said a real live witch was going to set fire to all those spiders I knew I had to come and see it for myself. You know my family used to live in the pretty little house with the blue roof near the tower. Of course those spiders drove us out, practically swarmed in one winter. Killed the baby and several of the chickens. Mother was sick from bites, but she pulled through. We all ran down to the market district, but oh the houses are wretched there. I was so glad when I met the metal merchant because that meant we could move back close to home. But you know business has been bad since the curse. Some say the curse draws in the spiders, but that old wizard said that there was no curse only spiders. Really, I thought he was a loon, especially when he made his house cave in on himself. But of course those magicians did drive him to it. And when that third one came to town there has been nothing but trouble between them. But land sakes, you know they do charge a heaping fee for things I can brew up in my kitchen without their help. You know I’m versed in a few bits of herbal magic myself. Our daughter wanted to study witchcraft, but when the others heard about it they…”

“I’m not an herbalist,” Theissen said, glancing at the shopkeeper for some sign of stoppage to the constant run-of-the-mouth.

The man merely smiled, pretending he didn’t hear.

“…had about a fit. But people are like that. Close-minded and all. Is this fire going to be really big?” The shopkeeper’s wife abruptly stopped speaking, nearly surprising them all—except perhaps Daanee who grinned and nodded, glancing at Theissen.

“Our wizard is pretty good at magic. I’m sure it will be quite a show,” Daanee replied.

“Wizard?” The shopkeeper turned with an honest stare of surprise. “I thought you only did herbal magic.”

With an apologetic smile, Theissen’s face flushed. “I never said that.”

“Then are you a wizard or aren’t you?” the wife asked him.

Sighing, Theissen glanced at Theobold who was snickering silently to himself. “I am a wizard. But I also studied under magicians, and I’ve been studying this magisterial magic book that I bought a while back. Most of the herbalist stuff I know comes from that book.”

“You mean that book?” The shopkeeper pointed to the one in Theissen’s hands.

Theissen nodded.

They rounded to the top of the hill of the cul-de-sac. The tower stood as foreboding as ever, its dark doorway still swarming with tiny black spiders.

Theissen set the cast iron pot down at a level place on the cobbles in front of the doorway. He immediately opened the book to the spell section.

“Ok, it says here to make a fire ward. Hold on while I make that.” Theissen had practice in making those on his journey. They were most useful in the forest to contain his campfires.

Taking the long handled spoon and turning it so the handle touched the ground, Theissen scratched a circle around the pot then scratched out the words of the spell as he said them.

“North, East, South, West, Ward encircle and keep fire in.” He clapped his hands together and said the word that enacted the spell. “Shield!”

A small gust of wind whipped around the pot then calmed. Only Theissen could see the protective dome of flow around it.

“That was strange,” Theobold murmured.

“Ok,” Theissen knelt on the ground next to the pot. “Now we make the brew. I need the liquor and the spices.”

The shopkeeper’s wife immediately gave him the bottle. Theissen took the cork out and poured the contents of rather odd smelling liquor into the pot.

“What is that?” Teppan asked, turning to her.

“Homemade whisky,” the shopkeeper said.

“Ok, the spices,” Theissen reached out. “Cinnamon. I need about a teaspoon worth.”

The shopkeeper’s wife popped off the lid and dug out a teaspoon. It seemed that she wanted control of her own kitchen goods. Her husband stood back just grinning as he watched Theissen call for nutmeg and then cloves.

When he asked for curry she grimaced. “I have barely enough.”

“Give it all. I’ll buy you more later if it works,” Theissen said.

Gladly giving it up, she handed it to him. Theissen dumped it all in his pot. Then he added the cayenne pepper and the black pepper. Of the spearmint, he had to crush the leaves first and then measure. All of it he dropped in the pot and stirred.

“Uh, Theissen,” Theobold peered into the book, already looking nervous at the talk of a big fire. “It says here you use a long handled spoon. Don’t you think that means you ought to keep your face away from the pot before it bursts into flames?”

“Don’t worry yet,” Theissen replied. “I have to make a fire first.”

“Oh! Tinder, I clean forgot!” The shopkeeper spun on his heels and dashed down the hill immediately.

They all stared after him. Theissen blinked as he watched the man go then looked at his pot with a slouch of disbelief. “The tinder. We forgot wood for the fire.”

Theobold snorted. With a hop, he walked to the nearest house, breaking off a piece from one of the dilapidated doorways. He kicked it, shooing away the spiders with a flap of his wings. He walked back to the group and handed the chunk to Theissen. “Here. Start one with that, and when he gets back you can just add to it.”

The shopkeeper’s wife retreated with a stare at Theobold. “You have wings.”

All the former birdmen looked up, glancing at Theobold.

He just shrugged and ruffled his feathers. He had a growing itch that tickled down his back and along his wings.

“Don’t get uneasy,” Theissen said to the woman, splintering the wood with a small touch. He