Drakonika (Book 1) (4 page)

“
A former member? Why aren't you still in the Guild, Valezar?” asked Magnus curiously.

“
Hm, we'll get to that another time, too.“

Magnus wanted to insist on his question, but then he understood that Valezar probably didn't want to talk about it. Those must have been some bitter memories.

“I'll write a recommendation for you, I am sure my friend Zimbadur will gladly help you. I bet you'll get a permit from him without any problems,” said Valezar, sounding a bit merrier this time. Then he pulled a scroll, pen and ink out from a drawer in the table.

“
Hm, how should I start?“ said Valezar, as he delved into thought. “Kind friend... no, no, that's too settled down. Dear Zimbadur... no, that sounds as if I were in love with him. Revered Guild Master Zimbadur... NO! That sounds as if I didn't know him at all!” he screamed, grasping his head hopelessly.

Magnus came to the conclusion that Valezar didn't write letters very frequently.

“And what about: Hello Zimbadur?”

If Valezar had been a few years younger, he would have jumped up from his chair in joy.

“You're a genius!” he shouted out. “How did you think of that? That's incredible!” Valezar murmured in amazement as he started writing.

The letter was scribbled down faster than Magnus had anticipated. He just hoped that it would also be usable. He reached out his hand towards the green pot on the table but he couldn't grasp gingerbreads any more. He looked puzzled. Where had they disappeared?

“They ran out quickly, didn't they?” said Valezar without raising his eyes from the scroll which he was reviewing.

Magnus felt a bit disappointed. He wished there were more of them in the pot.

“Well, this is it,“ Valezar said, slowly standing up. He packed the scroll into a leather bag which he handed over to Magnus. “Keep it, you'll need it. Listen up,” he glanced somewhere at Magnus' belt. “When you follow the houses on the left side of the square and take the first turn left, there is a cheap inn. You could use that pouch of yours and spend the night there.” Valezar pulled out some kind of a map from underneath a pile of papers. “This is a map of Ragna, maybe it will be of some use to you tomorrow,” he said and gave the map to his young guest.

If Magnus feared something that evening, it was leaving out for the night. No matter how scary the place had seemed to be at the beginning, the thought of a night spent in a smoky inn was even scarier! He stuffed the map into his backpack without saying a word.

“I'd love to let you stay over here but that's not possible now. It will be a little busy here tonight,” said Valezar with a distant look. Afterwards, he leaned over Magnus and gazed at him more seriously than ever before. “Promise me that you spend the night inside and you won't go out.”

Magnus suspected that Valezar was keeping something from him.

“Why?” he said and looked at Valezar curiously with his big, silvery eyes.

Valezar paused for a while and straightened up. “Believe me, boy. It's better not to know,” He mumbled, staring in front of him and a cooling darkness could be felt from his voice. “It's late,” Valezar's voice cut through the silence again and then he escorted Magnus to the exit. He opened the door which was unlocked now.

Foregoing hope that he could learn something more of what was going on outside at night, Magnus put on his backpack and reached over the chair for his hat. All of a sudden, he had a feeling that even though they had spent such a wonderful afternoon together, Valezar wanted him to leave quickly now. It was time to go.

      
When Magnus was crossing the threshold of the house, Valezar placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don't forget! Go straight to the inn, don't stop anywhere. And when you are looking for the Mages Guild, follow the highest tower that can be seen from the square. If you get lost, ask someone.” Valezar was looking at Magnus with worry in his eyes. He'd rather let Magnus stay in his house during the night, but he couldn't.

Magnus nodded silently and walked outside as the first raindrops hit his hat. The sky was overcast with grey clouds, which made it even darker than it should have been at this hour. A storm was coming.

“At least it will get clean,“ joked Valezar, but then his chortle died. He knew what Magnus was thinking; would he finally remember everything in the morning? “Don't worry too much, everything is as it should be,“ Valezar said soothingly.

Magnus cast a last look at Valezar and walked along the left row of houses. The old mage observed him for a while. The farther Magnus went, the lonelier Valezar felt. “Come visit me again sometime, Magnus!” he blurted out.

Magnus turned around in the distance and waved at him again. After that, he disappeared from Valezar's sight completely as he took the first left turn, just as Valezar had told him.

That brought a faint smile to the old mage's face. It looked like Magnus wouldn't get lost, so he stepped back inside his house and shut the door with the ghostly face, on which raindrops were now rolling down like tears.

III. The Haunting Of Ragna

The raindrops got heavier.

As the storm rose Magnus felt them hitting him harder and more frequently. He tried to keep his eyes fixed on the road, but the cold raindrops splattering on his face forced him to bend his head so low that he almost couldn't see where he was going.

He narrowed his eyes and looked up, but the dark cobblestone lane he was walking made his legs stop suddenly, as though they didn't want to go any farther.

Magnus felt a great dread fall on him.
What could have been happening in Ragna at night that Valezar didn't want to talk about? And why couldn't he let Magnus stay overnight at his house, saying it was not safe outside?

He trembled with cold. Just as he was about to step forward again, a clangorous sound broke into his ears.

Faster than he thought he could, he turned in the direction from where he heard the sound. His bulged eyes surveyed each corner in his vicinity but
here was no sign of anything alive close to where he was standing.

Magnus breathed out in relief. It was just his fantasy! But then-

“AAAAH!” he shrieked abruptly. Before he could even realise what happened, he jumped in terror.

So, it was not just his imagination after all!
For quite a while, he was peering out between his fingers and standing on one leg, just in case there was something nasty crawling on the ground.

When he assured himself that nothing was going to attack him,
he saw an animal quickly disappear in the shadows and for the very first time in this spooky evening he was glad it had been so dead out there. He surely didn't want anyone to see him being scared of a common cat!

H
is wild breath and heart that was hammering fiercely like a drum calmed down and he finally acquired the ability to think rationally.

“
Valezar has definitely fooled me. There's no danger here. He just wanted to scare me,” growled Magnus under his nose, refusing to admit that the fear he just felt was well-founded.

As he came to perceive his surroundings again, he realized the rain became excruciatingly cold. He felt his blood slowly freezing in his veins. Moreover, he still had the feeling that someone or something was watching him.

Thunder rumbled over the town.

This fired him up to continue his trek because in that moment he finally saw a battered wooden sign hanging from a rusty bracket on the left side of the dark street, as though fighting the storm. There was faint lettering which read “Merry Pigeon” and a drawing of the same meaning on its opposite side. The sign creaked in the wind as he quickly approached and crossed the rivers of water running down the lane.

Magnus
didn't care if he had found the exact place that Valezar referred to. He felt like he wouldn't be able to stay in the rain any longer. He turned around for the last time and saw a few people closing the remaining windows which were open. It almost looked as if they were scared of something.

With an unsettling feeling squirming in his stomach, Magnus rounded back on the tavern's door which
creaked audibly as he pushed it open. That sound obviously caught the attention of all the guests inside, because the whole inn was now quietly staring at Magnus who was gaping back at them from the entrance door. There was a long and painful silence. A ten-year-old boy without the escort of an adult probably wasn't a common sight here!

Magnus couldn't take all those stares so he lowered his gaze to his big shoes which were completely soaked with water
.

The banging sound of the door closing made him jump.

“You were lucky it was still open,” said the inn keeper brightly. “I was just about ter lock the door.”

When Magnus looked up at the inn keeper, he thought he had found himself in the realm of giants. He was watching the strong man lock up the door with several heavy bars and padlocks. Magnus was about to ask him what everyone was so afraid of, but the words all died out in his throat before he could even speak them aloud. After all, anyone would be able to tell that he was a stranger then
!

The inn keeper rounded on Magnus with a broad smile which could hardly be seen through his shaggy moustache.
“We wouldn't want any of them ter get in here, now would we?”

Magnus shook his head jerkily. He tried to look as knowledgeable as he could, although his big eyes were too wide for that.

In the next moment, the inn keeper lead him to an empty table right in front of the fire place. Magnus was still shaking with cold. He dropped his backpack under the table clumsily. Like a bag of boulders, he fell into the chair and couldn't make another move. The bartender was still leaning over him, waiting to hear a word from him but after a moment of silence he had to remind Magnus of his presence. “So? Yeh havin' anythin', boy?” the bartender said, rubbing his hands as he expected a promising order.

Although it was difficult to not hear the bartender's strong voice, Magnus hardly took notice of him
. His attention was completely drawn to the fireplace emitting heat that was pleasantly warming his wet back. He only noticed the presence of the tall, strong man when he leaned closer to him and waved his hand in front of Magnus' eyes.

Magnus gasped as he jerked back into reality. He finally noticed the drops of water falling off his clothes onto the wooden floor. But what was even worse for him were the cold water drops falling off his hat right onto his chest.

The bartender had never seen anyone in his life taking off their hat faster than this young boy just did. “I think yeh've already had a pint or two,” he remarked suspiciously.

Magnus didn't react to these words at all. His gaze was distant and his senses felt frozen as though he just came inside from a huge snow storm. “Could you p-please bring me something?” he spit out finally, with his voice still shaking.

“Certainly, but if yeh mean alcohol, I'll have to say
no
. I think yeh've already had enough,” said the inn keeper and glanced at Magnus closely. “And why are you still shaking like that? It's not freezing outside!” he said pointedly. He couldn't have overlooked that Magnus was trembling all over since he had entered the inn.

“
Please,” Magnus repeated, “could you bring me a large beef steak? And a warm tea. And candles, many candles. So many that I can fill the whole table with them. And a room with a fireplace so huge it will reach the ceiling,” he said blankly.

Throughout the years of working in this tavern, the bartender had heard lots of strange requests from his guests. Never had anyone asked him for a table full of candles though!
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Very well then,” he said airily, straightening up. “I am sorry if I sound rude, but do yeh have money for all that?”

Money? This question struck Magnus like a shot in the head.
How could he have any money? He groped all over his clothes in haste. Then he remembered Valezar's words: “you could use that pouch of yours”. Of course, the pouch! He completely forgot he had it on his belt. That was probably because he had forgotten everything else too.

He dragged two coins from his pouch and holding them in his shaking hand, he pored over them in confusion. He had no idea where he had come by that money or what value it had. As he was gazing at them, feeling utterly dazed, the gold coins slipped from his numb fingers and with a heavy rumbling sound they fell onto the wooden table.

The b
artender's eyes sparkled with delight. What he saw on Magnus' table was his yearly earning! “I guess that will do!” he said and grinned widely, pocketing the gold coins. The tavern's kitchen was instantly turned into a working hive.

When Magnus finally got the chance to look around, he realised that nobody was taking notice of him any more. He was glad to have a moment just for himself.

Magnus has completely lost track of time. A
s he was thinking and trying to remember were exactly he came from, a large plate emerged right under his nose with even larger contents and a big teapot with a cup next to it. Not only one, but three huge juicy steaks were a real feast for his eyes and an even greater feast for his taste buds and stomach! He didn't even notice when a long metallic key from his pre-paid room appeared on the table. There was a small ticket hanging on its head, including the date of expiration and a seal stamp, but Magnus didn't pay any attention to that at the moment and he slipped the key carelessly into his pocket. Seconds later, there were so many candles around his plate on the table that he'd have a hard time counting them. It all happened as though by magick; the bartender and the waiters were bustling around him like servants around a king. He smiled contently as he was slowly waving his hands above the warm candle flames. He took off his wet leather coat and hung it on the back of his chair. The c
omforting warmth was spreading all around him and he could finally dig into the royal feast with the utmost pleasure.

The later the hour, the more cheer in the tavern. Magnus became suddenly aware that the guests were singing and dancing merrily and were coming closer to his little “sanctuary” than he considered tolerable. He felt as though they were disturbing his hard-earned piece of heaven.

In that moment, a breeze sneaked around him that was so chilly it made the hair on his neck stand up. Even though there were a bunch of people around him, nobody else had noticed that something wasn't right.

Magnus sat upright in his chair, feeling slightly alarmed. The guests, dancing and whirling around him in cheer and free of mind were driving him crazy.

Shortly, a moment came when enough was enough. Magnus decided to leave to his room where he could finally find some peace. He groped under the table to grab his backpack, but he didn't find anything.

Suddenly it struck him. His backpack was gone!

He leaped to his feet so suddenly his chair rumbled to the floor, making a deafening racket in his vicinity. Several people cast him a brief glance.

Magnus felt his heart drumming wildly against his chest. He crouched down to peek under the table, but there was nothing; then he looked around with his eyes popped open, but his head spun from all the music and whirling around him.

His sight finally sharpened when he spotted a man whose face was covered in a green hood. There was a short moment in which Magnus gazed at the hooded man and the stranger gazed straight back at him, when Magnus noticed a leather backpack which the man was holding discreetly under his cloak. He suddenly realised he had found his backpack! By the time he put this all together in his head, the thief slipped out through the back door of the tavern and he was gone.

Magnus knew he had to act quickly. But that didn't mean he would act wisely. He grabbed his coat with his shaking hands which cast quite a large amount of burning candles to the floor. This drew more than enough attention to him.

The music stopped playing. Within seconds, Magnus found himself in a circle of shocked guests who watched him trampling down the burning candles on the wooden floor.

When Magnus felt their glances on him, he left the candles be, making a few steps backwards to the back door of the inn. “I... excuse me, I gotta go now...” he stuttered and as he turned around, he almost fell sprawled on the floor as he stumbled over his own shoes. 
He tossed his coat over his shoulder and bolted out.

“
Don't be a fool, stay inside!” people called after Magnus as he disappeared into the darkness, but there was nothing they could say that would make him stop.

One of the guests shook his head in disbelief,  “That boy ain't comin' back alive...”

The inn keeper pored over the black hat lying in the dust on the floor. The tavern remained silent for a while, as though holding silence for the recently passed-away boy, and then returned back to drinking.

Magnus was left with at least a bit of luck
– he caught a glimpse of the thief's green cloak disappearing behind a corner. But what would he do if he actually caught him? Well, he had no idea about that.

The streets were completely unknown to him so the only direction he could possibly go was the one where his backpack went as well. He tried to shield himself from the raindrops with his coat as best as he could.

As he was desperately running, thoughts were buzzing in his head like a swarm of bees.
Why did he only have to steal the backpack? I have the recommendation from Valezar in there!
Another thought hummed in his ear immediately.
And why not? After all, the backpack thrown underneath your table was definitely easy prey!
And the very next moment, another one.
All right... the question is... why did he just have to rob ME?!
The thoughts in his head were squabbling uncontrollably and Magnus wasn't able to stop them on his own. When he thought his head would burst from all the racket, his thoughts suddenly stopped running. And so did his feet. 

In the middle of the dark street there stood the hooded thief with Magnus' backpack tossed over his shoulder. However, that didn't trouble Magnus any more. The strong man had a firm grip on a young girl whose legs were kicking in all directions. With his large hand he was covering her whole face, although he probably meant to cover only her mouth.