Chapter 10: The Magician

The mage tapped his fingers on the rough table in a cheap room upstairs in an anonymous tavern. His co-conspirator came in late and sat across from him. There was no need for them to meet here; they saw each other on a daily basis. The other man poured a glass of wine, then made a face and pushed the glass to the side.

"Well?" 

"I trust you weren't followed." The Mage picked up the other man's wine and waved his hand over it before pushing it back to him.

"It should be more suited to your palate now."

The other frowned and pushed it away again. The mage shrugged and took the glass for himself and drank. The wine was trash under the glamour of his magic, but drinking it showed it wasn't poisoned.

Their first meeting had only come about after they had tested and counter tested each other. The mage soon determined that they shared the same moral standard: namely, none at all. They would do anything and everything to feed their addiction. People would be sacrificed, love would be shattered, hope would be betrayed; all on the altar of their desire for power.

So they met to keep an eye on each other. Each knew that they would betray the other in an instant if it would work to their advantage. They watched each other with suspicion and hatred, which is why the mage played his games, tasting the wine after he'd glamoured it. The other never yet drank so much as a sip.

"What is going on?" the other man said. "I had the body sent down the river as you requested. Here it is, fall, and nothing has happened."

"He is out there with my geas laid upon him," the mage put down his glass. "Be patient. He fights my chains, but they tighten around him."

"Bah, speak clearly. You have no idea where he is or if he will ever show up. He could be lying dead in a ditch, for all you know."

"He is not dead, or I would have felt my power returning to me. I am not sure he can die. He has been grievously injured twice and recovered both times. Twice, he has left havoc and death in his wake. My spell will pull him to me, and when it does, he will serve our purpose."

"And then what? If he can't be killed, how will we be rid of him?"

"What can't be killed can be dismissed, leaving only empty flesh to take the blame. What about your part?"

"She will help to destroy him, whether she wishes or not. With him gone, that whole group will fail. He is the glue that holds them together."

"And how are you so sure?"

"Your magic isn't the only way to bind someone to your will. She is twisted around my finger."

"I am sure you enjoyed the...twisting."

"As much as you enjoyed forging your chains."

"Then you enjoyed it a great deal. Just be certain that she doesn't slip your will. She hasn't spoken to you all summer."

"When I am ready, she will come to me. Even if she doesn't, I have another arrow to let fly. There will be no escape."

"So we wait."

"We wait."

The mage watched the other man leave, then pulled a flask from his pocket and washed the last taste of the wine from his mouth. His magic reached out to tug on the one he'd so carefully prepared - a reminder the mage was not a patient person.

The mage considered what he would do when this buffoon he conspired with was no longer useful.

***

Months later, they met again.

"It is winter. Where is he?" The mage's co-conspirator leaned across the table in another anonymous upper room. Its legs creaked in protest.

"He slaughtered a squad of the local baron's bandit hunters and escaped into a blizzard. He is out there fighting me with every breath, and with every breath he is closer to losing his battle. It will be worth the wait."

"I grow impatient with your excuses."

"Perhaps it would be more to the point to grow impatient with your daughter. I hear she has left her husband and vanished from the city."

"Can you not find her?"

"To answer your question, no, I cannot find her for you. I have no connection with her. I thought that you had her completely under your control? Twisted around your finger were your words. Perhaps you needed to use more than your finger."

"She is stubborn like her mother."

"Her mother died rather than submit to your will."

"She burns in hell for it. Suicide is forbidden."

"Incest is not?"

"She isn't mine, her mother betrayed me."

"No, there was no betrayal. The girl is your flesh and blood. You are as damned as her mother."

"Damned or not, I will have my way. She will serve me, or her absence will."

"What about your 'other arrow'?"

"When the time is right."

"So, still we wait."

"We wait."

This time the mage left first. Undoubtedly, the other spun webs to ensure the mage's downfall. The mage grinned into the falling snow. He looked forward to when the masks came off.