Scholar of Magic (Art of the Adept #3) - Michael G. Manning Page 0,119

didn’t run past. Instead he crouched down and cast the chameleon spell on himself.

“Fuck!”

“Damn it!”

“I can’t see a thing. He just ran past me!”

Will grinned to himself as they swore and tried to organize themselves. Two of the teams farther out on either side were sent to chase him down, while the others continued to close in on the building. The ones immediately around him moved away a moment later.

He remained still until the teams were fully engaged with securing the warehouse, and their attention was firmly on what was within their circle, rather than what was without. The two teams sent to find him returned empty-handed and once they were accounted for, Will felt secure in slowly creeping away.

The king is going to be very displeased when he finds out I made fools out of them, thought Will. He felt a little bad about that, but he couldn’t afford to get tied down answering questions. His friends didn’t have the luxury of time.

He debated his next move, as it could technically be accomplished at either end of the journey, but in the end it made more sense to take care of it in Cerria. Plus, since he was already in the dockside district, it would be easy to find what he needed. He stopped at the first pub he found and circled around to the back alley.

Dawn was fast approaching, and so the drinking houses were all closed, but Will worried he might run into an early morning employee coming to begin the day. It was the work of a few minutes to use another spell to open the back door and let himself in. From there, he searched until he found the entrance to the cellar, where what he needed was sure to lie.

In the cool dark there were racks that held numerous casks and barrels. It didn’t take him long to find the ale, which was held in four massive butts, the largest barrel size in the room. Once again, he felt a sense of guilt, since he intended to take two full butts, leaving the pub with only one full and one partial butt to supply their customers.

It had been over a year since he had bought wine in large amounts, and this was a different beverage, plus at that time, he had only bought quarter casks. This was roughly four times as much volume, so he did a little mental math, quadrupling what he had paid before, then doubling it again. He still wasn’t sure if it was enough to compensate the owner for the trouble of losing his stock, so he added a little more and left an even pile of thirty gold marks on the floor in front of where the butts stood. Then he stored them in the limnthal.

I’ve been nothing but a thief tonight, he realized, but he wasn’t about to second-guess his choices. Exiting the cellar, he left the pub and stopped for a moment to make sure he relocked the door properly. It wouldn’t do for someone else to come along and rob the place after he had left. He liked to think he was considerate.

Will resumed his purposeful walk, and soon he was outside Cerria again, heading south toward the congruence point. The sun was rising on his left, turning the pastures and fields into shifting shades of green and gold. Spring was already beginning to leave its mark on the world.

Alone and away from people, he activated the limnthal and sought advice. “I need to get back to your old house quickly.”

“Did you already return Tailtiu to her mother?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a shame. You could have used her to bargain for a guide. You didn’t have any actual debt to repay. The only reason you had to rescue Tailtiu was because of her implied threat,” said the ring.

“Well, it’s a little late for that now.” And I rescued her for my own reasons, not to bargain with her life, he added mentally.

“Yep. You’re screwed.”

“How does Aislinn do that vanishing thing? Twice now I’ve seen her appear and disappear. Is she becoming invisible or is she traveling somehow?” asked Will.

“It’s