Scholar of Magic (Art of the Adept #3) - Michael G. Manning Page 0,98

I don’t need to change my trousers after fighting something like that.”

Will snorted. “You didn’t shit yourself.” After a second, he added, “But I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I was scared out of my mind. By the way, I have an idea for what to do next.”

Tiny grimaced. “Do I need my armor?”

Will smiled. “Yes, but it’s just a precaution.”

“Do you want me to go?” asked Rob, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed nervously.

“I appreciate the offer, but no. I need your particular skills for a different task.” He quickly laid out his simple plan. Tiny would accompany him to the trader’s warehouse, where he would attempt to enter by asking to buy some of the phosphorous. The large squire would stay close by, hidden by a chameleon spell and ready to intervene if thing went badly. Meanwhile Rob would spend the rest of the day gathering news from around the city.

Ordinarily Rob was only interested in the big things—the doings of nobility, scandals, or items that involved the college. Will wanted him to see if he could discover whether there had been an increase in things like people going missing. If the vampires had been careful, it might not be easy, for they would have stuck to prey that wouldn’t be missed. Will left it to his friend to figure out the best way to suss out that information.

When he finished, Janice asked, “What about me? I don’t get a job?”

“You make your own job,” said Will. “You’re the one who discovered the phosphorous trader. You’re the one who looked into Ethelgren. Keep nosing around. Whatever you decide to research, I have a feeling you’ll come up with something useful.”

She sniffed. “I can’t decide whether that’s a compliment or a fancy dismissal.”

“Definitely a compliment,” affirmed Tiny solicitously. “He doesn’t have the finesse to make subtle insults.”

Will sighed. “But apparently you do. Come on, let’s go. We only have a few hours of daylight left.”

Chapter 22

The warehouse district wasn’t an area Will went to often. The last time he’d spent any time there, he had been attacked by a gang of thugs hired to separate him from his remaining years. Ordinarily he had no reason to go there, so it wasn’t that he’d been actively avoiding that part of the city. But if I did have a reason to come here, I would avoid it anyway, he observed silently.

It was a rough part of Cerria, but generally it wasn’t dangerous. Will had just developed a dislike for the area. Tiny noticed the change in his posture. “What’s wrong?”

“Bad memories,” said Will. “And you aren’t supposed to be talking. You’re trying not to be seen or heard.”

There wasn’t anyone close by, so Tiny replied anyway, “Do you know how hard it is to walk this slowly when you’re my size?”

Will ignored him, moving ahead and then loitering at the next corner while Tiny slowly caught up. Despite his complaints, the big warrior was doing fairly well. The silent-armor spell made a big difference, and watching him gave Will a lot of useful feedback for the next time he used the chameleon spell on himself.

One thing he had noticed was that the spell was most effective when the subject stayed close to a static background such as a wall or a building. Standing in the middle of open spaces could lead to all sorts of complications that the spell couldn’t compensate for, such as people suddenly walking behind the camouflaged individual. An observer on the opposite side would notice something like that immediately.

When they finally arrived at the correct address, Will saw that the building in question was a large, two-story wood frame structure with a stone exterior that only extended up to about six feet from the ground. The side facing them was almost fifty yards in length, and from what he could tell the warehouse was probably the same length along its other sides. He wondered if it was two levels inside or just one with a high ceiling.

The side they approached from faced the street and had several doors. Two of the doors were large enough for wagons to