Scholar of Magic (Art of the Adept #3) - Michael G. Manning Page 0,117

spell. With three spells ready, he constructed a force-lance and kept it in his hand. Then he entered the building.

Nothing had changed since he had been there a few hours before. Adjusting his vision, he made a quick circuit of the main storage area. When he didn’t find anyone, he released the force-lance and created a simple light spell. Searching would be easier with normal eyesight, as writing often didn’t show up properly in heart-light and some other types of light.

There was a wide variety of goods stored in the building. Despite the foul things that had been living there, apparently Jorn Slidden was a relatively ordinary trader, or had been. Will wondered if they had turned him or if the man had simply been cooperating to protect his life or that of his family. Then again, the man might have been motivated by simple greed.

A cursory search failed to turn up what he was looking for, but that wasn’t surprising considering the size of the place. But would they store it out here with everything else? He decided that was unlikely. The stuff was too dangerous. He worked his way around the edge of the storage area, looking for a stack that was set far apart from the others. He found several, but they turned out to other things.

The office? He went back to the door he had entered through and followed the hall in the other direction. It led to door that was already partly ajar, and inside was a desk, several chairs and strangely enough, a large painting on the wall behind the desk. Will stared at it for several seconds, purely for artistic reasons though—not because the painting depicted a woman in a partial state of undress.

Definitely not, he told himself. Since the painting was clearly a work of art, and entirely out of place in such a ratty dockside business, it seemed suspicious. There might be a hiding place behind it. Reaching out, he touched the frame and stored the painting in the limnthal. It was the quickest way to get it out of the way, he decided—after the fact. The wall behind was blank and ordinary, though the plaster was chipped and damaged in places.

He made a thorough search of the room and found nothing—until he began moving furniture. Beneath the desk was an old rug, and once it was out of the way he found a large iron door secured with what he assumed was an expensive padlock. He didn’t know much about locks, but this one was heavily constructed and appeared far more complex than most he had seen.

Will hadn’t needed the unlocking spell in over a year, but he still practiced it during his daily spell routine, and it came together quickly over his palm. Seconds later, the padlock clicked open. He stored it in the limnthal too. Such things, even the cheaper ones, were quite valuable. If he could get a key made for it, it would be worth considerable coin. First the painting and now this. I’m turning into a common thief. Then again, he had come to steal something anyway, and one way or another he figured the owner owed him for what had happened to his friends.

Opening the vault, he noted that a ward had been laid over the space just behind the door. It was an unusual arrangement, as ordinarily a ward would be placed on the door itself, rather than the air behind it. He hadn’t learned to create any wards yet himself, but he knew that they lasted longer when placed on solid materials.

Behind the ward was a large space containing a multitude of glass jars and vials, along with a large leather sack. Will smiled, then took a moment to attune himself to the ward, before reaching through and removing the contents, one by one. The larger glass jars were tightly sealed with wax, cloth, and twine. The glass was brown, and the jars sloshed as he pulled them out, confirming his suspicion of their contents. Turning the first one around, he saw the chemical symbol for phosphorous had been painted on one side.

The phosphorous itself would be a waxy solid, but it was stored in water to prevent exposure to air, which could cause it to spontaneously ignite. All in all, he