Creation Mage 6 by Dante King (detective books to read txt) 📕

Cups of tea steamed in front of us. Leah was munching loudly through a scone slathered in jam and clotted cream.

It was the first time I had met an Inscriber. I had never had to visit one, not like everyone else, because I learned my spells the fun way. I grinned slightly at that. No tests or anything of the sort for me, just hardcore, no-holds-barred sex. It was lucky for some, all right.

Gertrude was a convivial old bird, as pleasant as anyone that I had ever met. With a cup of tea at her elbow, a scone on her plate, and company that weren’t wearing tinsuits, she was hospitality itself. I wondered if all Inscribers were like her and, if so, where their reputations for being hardasses stemmed from.

“Gertrude,” I began after we had exchanged a few pleasantries, “I’m—”

“I know who you are, Justin Mauler,” the little old woman said. She was sitting with her hands in her lap. Her face had been softened and lined by time and many frowns and smiles, but I imagined that she must have been quite a firecracker in her day. Her eyes were bright chips of blue set behind her glasses.

“I know who you are,” she said again, “and I know who your friend is. She has the Chaosbane look as clear as day.”

Leah licked her plate and smiled sweetly.

“The question is,” Gertrude said, “why is the son of Zenidor and Istrea here to see me?”

“You did know my father and mother then?” I asked.

“Oh yes,” the little old lady said. “I was one of your father’s conquests, many many years ago—a mature woman who showed him a few tricks. Although, maybe he was one of my conquests? It’s hard to recall sometimes.”

I snorted.

“You saucy wench!” Leah said. “Bravo, I knew I could tell that you and I shared a kindred thread in our souls!”

Gertrude giggled.

“I’ll cut to the chase, Gertrude,” I said, handing my scone to Leah, who had been eyeing it like a rattlesnake watching a gopher hole. “I’m not sure how much time we’ve bought ourselves.”

Gertrude nodded and sipped her tea, as if this was all a typical day for her.

“Now, you know who I am,” I continued, “but do you know what I am?”

“If you allude to the kind of mage that you are, Justin,” the old woman said, “then yes I do. You are a special and rare type of practitioner, indeed.”

“Okay, so you know I’m a Creation Mage,” I said, my voice low. “And I assume that you know what that entails—how I learn new spells etcetera?”

The old woman nodded once more.

“Well,” I plowed on, while crumbs flew from the chair next to me, “I’ve been a little over-zealous in, ah, cultivating new magic. I’ve run out of spell slots. A very reliable source recently told me that you were the woman to come and see about opening new ones.”

Gertrude’s eyes crinkled up as she smiled at me over her teacup. She set the teacup down and pushed the saucer away.

“I assume that your ‘source’ is none other than your father?” she asked.

Seemed pointless to deny it, so I nodded.

The old woman pursed her lips and muttered, “He really is a marvel.” She cleared her throat, and the ice-chip gaze locked on to mine. “Justin, I think you’re right in saying that you don’t have much time here so listen to me very carefully. You too, glutton!”

Leah jerked up, inhaled a scone crumb, and started choking. I whacked her on the back until the fit subsided.

“Sorry,” she gasped. “Love a scone. Continue.”

Gertrude turned to me once more. “The most expedient way for you to open up some spell slots is by acquiring three relics of power.”

I recalled my father mentioning something about relics, but he couldn’t tell me much about them.

“And where can I get my hands on some of these relics?” I asked.

“Thankfully,” the old Inscriber said, “the Castle of Ascendance itself holds a vast collection of such items. Unfortunately for you, these relics are all held tightly under lock and key, ward and curse, monster and demon.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less in this joint,” Leah said.

Gertrude ignored her.

”The first relic will open one slot,” the old woman explained, “the second relic will open a second slot, and the third will provide three more slots.”

“Three relics, five spell slots?” I clarified.

Gertrude nodded her permed head.

“Then, you will find yourself running up against yet another thaumaturgical roadblock,” she said.

“Do you have any recommendations as to how to deal with that, when I come up against it?” I asked.

“At that point, it’ll require more than what I can do, or any of the Inscribers here in the Tower of Inscription,” Gertrude said.

“I can’t just find some more relics?” I asked.

“More relics won’t help. You’ll need to find a Legendary Inscriber, and those aren’t just rabbits you can pull from a hat, Justin Mauler.”

Leah and I sat and looked at one another for a moment or two. It seemed like this little clandestine mission of ours had borne fruit, just not as much as I, personally, was hoping for.

There was a soft sound of metal scraping on wood.

The sound of a door being pushed carefully open from behind us.

Leah was on her feet a millisecond before I was, but before I had conjured my father’s black crystal staff, the two of us heard an unexpected but familiar voice call from the back room.

“Gertrude, dear, do you think this dress makes my breasts pop?”

Out through the door, dressed in a slightly different, but just as dazzling, white gown came Mallory Entwistle. She acted surprised to see me and Leah sitting with Gertrude in her workshop, but it was clear