Vicious Magick (18 page)

The horse’s hooves clomp along the
cobblestone boulevard winding through Port San-torus. Pubs and inns
line the left side of the road, while the right side opens to a
large common area set up like a bazaar. Scraggly merchants from
across Upper Kleighton (and even a few from elsewhere) sit behind
tables and in stalls hocking exotic fruits, exotic gems,
strange-smelling meats, tiny mechanical contraptions, weapons,
mysterious vials, and more.

“This is a pretty big place,” Novanostrum
says, “the map could’ve been more specific about just where the
Nexus Sketch is within this commercial bedlam.”

“He was a Priester, right?” Madra says, “I’d
think the most logical place to look would be a church. ‘House of
the Gods,’ it said. How about that church over there?”

Zanther squints his eyes. “Looks more like a
brothel to me. We’d better check it out.”

Sogbottom stops the wagon, and the other
three hop off. “I’ve just got to tie this up and get some water for
the horse. I’ll catch up in a little while.”

Circles

A wizard’s title is determined by two
factors: the type of wizard he is, and his rank. There are many
types of wizards, but the most elite are the Maximagi. All wizards
of the Fifth Circle and above are considered Maximagi. Within the
classification
Maximagus
there are a few specialties, such
as Necromagi (wizards who have the ability to conjure spirits or
raise the dead), Magilinguists (wizards who can do powerful magic
without staves, and can associate particular phrases with
particular spells, which are then usable by other Magilinguists),
and Astromagi (who can travel freely between the spheres).

The lowest rank of wizard is Tenth Circle. An
ambitious wizard has two ways to improve his rank. The first is to
be granted a new rank by an instructor (or any wizard who is at
least two circles higher), and the second way is to mortally defeat
a higher-ranking wizard in battle. While the first method usually
doesn’t allow much rank-skipping, a highly-motivated Tenth Circle
could (theoretically) defeat a First Circle and assume his rank.
This doesn’t happen as often as you might think, the first reason
being that high-ranking wizards are notoriously hard to kill, and
the second reason being that a subpar wizard stumbling into a
super-high rank would be the target of every rank-climbing wizard
in Upper Kleighton.

A strange effect of the two-circle rule is
that there are now almost no Second Circle wizards. First Circles
can only grant the rank of Third Circle, and if a Third Circle
kills a First Circle, he becomes a First Circle. While a few Second
Circle wizards do exist, they’re very old, and as of yet nobody has
survived an attempt to convince one to divulge how he came about
his rank.

Now, assuming nobody kills anybody else,
instructors use some loose guidelines when determining a pupil’s
appropriate ranking. Ninth Circles should be able to produce some
kind of fireball. Seventh circles should have the ability to turn
water into a decent-tasting ale. Fifth Circles must be able to
summon (and accurately hit a target with) lightning. Third Circles
should have a mastery of earthquakes and meteorites. Also, each of
these guidelines is usually paired with a specific task where said
ability can be demonstrated and supervised by an instructor. Rather
than a pass/fail system, instructors tend to utilize a live/die
grading rubrick, at least for the higher levels.

From the outside, the building does indeed
look much like a church. The only unchurchlike things about it are
the drunks and scantily-clad women filing in and out. Inside,
despite the debauchery happening on tables and tiny stages and
presumably within the confessionals, some traces of the building’s
original purpose are still visible. Religious relics hang on the
walls, large x-shaped golden crosses and paintings of saints. Pews
have been chopped up and converted into booths, with dancing girls
shaking their flesh above customers, trying to get tips, trying to
convince them to step off to somewhere more private.

Madra and Zanther manage to find an empty
booth, while Novanostrum heads off to locate a toilet. Zanther
plops a handful of dodeckas onto the table and signals one of the
girls. She takes their drink orders and walks over to the bar,
returning a few moments later with a frothy mug of yellow liquid
and a fruity blue drink.

Zanther takes a big swig of the fruity blue
drink, staring at the endowments of the hostess leaning on their
table.

“You want me to dance for you?”

“No thanks,” she says, “why don’t
I
dance for
you
?”

She stands on their table, shaking her assets
in Zanther’s face. After a few minutes of gyrating and contorting,
he helps her clamber off the table and back to her feet. As she
gets ready to walk away, Zanther notices she has a golden coin
stuck to her ass. He reaches to peel it off.

It’s at this point when several things happen
at once.

Feeling the hand on her ass, the girl turns
around and slaps Zanther in the face. Another drunk patron notices
the girl’s distress and rushes over to defend her honor, landing a
few punches on Zanther before he realizes what’s happening.

In an instant, people are circled around the
two of them watching them trade blows. Zanther gets the worst of a
roundhouse kick, flying into a wall and dislodging a picture in a
frame. It crashes onto his head, showering him with glass and
wooden fragments of the frame. A folded piece of paper flutters
down.

It’s now when the daemon assassin comes
bursting in through the skylight, sending screaming patrons and
prostitutes running in every direction. Zanther looks up at the
charging red ball of muscle, too dazed to react. The daemon
snatches up the folded piece of paper.

Madra is still sitting at the table, shocked.
She takes a swig of her drink.

“Aha! This must be it. The key to my
freedom,” he says, opening the paper and looking at the Nexus
Sketch. His face contorts into a horrible grimace and he starts to
dissolve.

“I’ve...I’ve been tricked…”