Master Draconis’s box was sitting on the sage administrator’s desk as I re-entered the atrium. The master sage nodded to me as I picked up the box, but returned to his work without a parting word.

  As I walked down the hallway, my mind was already moving forward. I dreaded my next stop. Walking into it unawares would be unwise. I shared a little about my previous experience at my trials with my team. Each had experienced an unpleasant master in the past, and their worst fear would be one sitting in judgment over trials.

  Fortunately, they were a creative bunch. Sar was especially helpful with her suggestion.

  Ten minutes later, I entered the enchanter’s guild alone and with a feeling of mounting anxiety. I hoped my preparations were unnecessary, but one never knew.

  Lord Master Ichabod Horatio Aloicious Drammult, Knight of the Realm, Keeper of Keys, Administrator of the Capital Enchanter Guild Hall, was watching me walk toward him at his lobby desk with the look of a spider that had just caught an especially juicy fly.

  “Well, look who has come to my little neck of the woods. You should have written, I would have prepared something special for someone of your obvious importance.”

  “It is a pleasure to see you again, Master Drammult. I am here on business of the Duke and The Tower and am checking in as guild protocols require.”

  “I’m sure, I’m sure.” He said in a sarcastic tone. But he was not done tormenting me.

  “On business of both your Duke and The Tower. My, my but how your ego does fly.” He said in a singsong manner that raised the hairs on the back of my neck.

  “With your permission, I will check in and be on my way.”

  “But you do not have my permission, my dear little apprentice.” He said in a coarse whisper.

  I saw a master approaching down the stairs, but he was angling toward a side corridor and not the lobby where I was standing. It was time to play a gamble.

  I raised my voice. “I am not an apprentice, good master, and I have urgent business of my Duke and The Tower and must be on my way. It is improper for you to deny me the right and obligation to check into the hall.”

  The other mage stopped, turned around, and walked over to where I was standing.

  As Master Drammult opened his mouth to spit out some reply, the older mage asked, “Is there some issue here, Ichabod?”

  Master Drammult was so focused on me that he did not hear the other mage approach, and his face turned from a tight, white anger to a smooth look of bored efficiency when the other spoke.

  “Nothing that I can’t handle, guildmaster,” Drammult replied.

  This mage was the guildmaster. Some days you just get lucky, I thought to myself.

  “Very good.” He stated and began to turn to leave.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Guildmaster,” I stated and bowed unnecessarily.

  He turned and laughed. “Journeymen do not bow to mages.” But he appreciated the honor.

  I smiled in return. “I’m sorry, guildmaster. I am a new journeyman, and old habits die slowly.”

  He waved his hand. “Respect is a good habit, just unnecessary once you have attained this rank. I’m sure your former master had told you this.”

  “He did, guildmaster.” And I shrugged my shoulders.

  “Where are you from?” He asked, and I saw Drammult’s jaw tighten in repressed anger.

  “Keelwell, guildmaster.”

  He laughed. “Keelwell? Ichabod, is that not where you just went on some business or another?” He asked.

  “Yes.” Was his only reply.

  A dawning realization took the guildmaster. “Who was your master, journeyman?”

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  “Master Corwyn Glimmerblade, guildmaster.”

  “I see.” He said, giving Master Drammult a disappointed look. “You didn’t happen to go to Keelwell for this journeyman’s trials?” He asked Ichabod.

  Master Drammult worked his jaw but did not say anything. So, after a few moments, I answered. “Yes, guildmaster. The master was good enough to travel all the way to Keelwell for my trials. He was most thorough.” I added.

  “I bet he was.” He said, still looking at Ichabod, who would not meet his eyes. The guildmaster turned back to me. “Ichabod, I mean Master Drammult and your master were students of mine here at the guildhall many years back. They were a pair of incorrigible rivals, as I recall. Both brilliant students, some of the best I had ever trained.”

  Master Dramjult turned to the guildmaster and said, “You are too kind, guildmaster.”

  The guildmaster was lost in his own memories for a minute and then said, “Well, don’t you think the journeyman needs to check in? He did say something about an urgent mission for his Duke and The Tower.” And then the guildmaster jerked his head to me. “Is it about the invasion?”

  I didn’t want to get into details, especially with Drammult sitting before me, but I replied. “Yes, guildmaster. And I feel a pull to complete my tasks as rapidly as I can for them.”

  “Of course, of course. Carry on.” He said.

  I faced Master Drammult. “With your permission, master?” I kept a straight face and tried to give no sign of triumph, just a desire to be on my way.

  A crowd of students who were walking between classes started to gather. Master Ichabod was no doubt regretting not allowing me to depart more rapidly.

  He replied in a strained voice, “You may approach the orb. I am sure the journeyman knows the procedure.” His tone had some scorn in it, but I nodded my head respectfully and walked over to where the orb floated above its pedestal, just to the side of the desk and a large marble column.

  I placed my hand upon the orb, and it sank into it about a quarter of an inch. An intensely warm but not burning sensation overcame me, and the orb flashed once in a way I had become accustomed. In a rich and beautiful feminine tone, unique from the others I had experienced, an ethereal voice recited my name and status.

  The voice intoned, “Gentry Lord Gwydion Istari, Treble Patron, Journeyman of the Keelwell Enchanter Guild Hall, Dwarven Master, Dwarfkin, Elfkin, Earthkin, Commander of Keelwell Special Services, Champion of Keelwell.”

  Master Drammult closed his eyes as the guildmaster gasped and said, “Treble Patron? You are a triple Patron of the guild?” He looked with astonishment at me, and then yet another look came over him as he glanced at Ichabod. The look was filled with more disappointment and a little shame.

  The guildmaster said, “I wish you were not in a rush, Journeyman Istari. I sincerely would like to discuss your patronage in more detail.” He motioned to the students around them. “Your stories would be illuminating to our apprentices.” Turning to Ichabod, he said in a slightly annoyed tone of voice, “Master Drammult has kept this little gem to himself.” But facing me, he continued, “But you are most welcome. We are honored to have you among our ranks.”

  Master Drammult said, “Feeding the boy’s already inflated ego may not be the best course of action, guildmaster.”

  I kept my face neutral and agreed. “The master is not wrong, guildmaster. I hear such things from older, accomplished mages, and it is good to remain humble at my age. I have years to go before I prove such value.”

  The guildmaster looked at me and then at Master Drammult. “His ego does not appear overlarge to me, Ichabod. Could there be more here than meets the eye?”

  “Undoubtedly, guildmaster.” He said between clenched teeth.

  “We will discuss this another time, then.” He said to Ichabod. Turning to me, “Please pass along my regards to your former master and my very best wishes for the success of your mission. Many of us in the Capital are praying for your city.” He added at the end.

  I bowed to him once more, nodded to Master Drammult, and turned and walked down the hallway at a purposeful pace, even though my instincts told me to run as fast as I could.

  As I departed, I heard Master Drammult call out the names of two students. I did not know for sure what he wanted with them, but I was glad my preparations were in place.

  I exited the guild hall and as soon as the door closed behind me, said, “Split!”

  Perhaps sixty seconds later, two yellow-robed apprentices burst out of the doors looking for me across the wide commons of the Capital’s Central Plaza.

  In their haste, they failed to take notice of the two gray-robed elemental apprentices on either side of the door. And so, the two yellow-robed, older apprentices got blasted against their hall’s exterior wall when two fountain drying charms went off at the same time.

  The guard at the door had, coincidentally, walked away to chat with Adam, who just appeared to be another regular guard and so was not present to catch the air and all the kicked-up dust and debris that followed it. After a moment of laughter, the guard moved toward the elementalist apprentices and yelled, “You get moving. Play your games elsewhere!”

  The two elementalist apprentices laughed and ran back off to the fountain, clutching the shiny new platinum pieces each held in his robe’s pocket.

  The two apprentices staggered to their feet, rubbing dust and debris out of their faces and hair. They squinted, trying to locate a yellow robe somewhere in the plaza, but none were seen. Each sprinted around different sides of the hall, looking for me up the nearby side roads.

  All this was conveyed to me by our tour guide and elementalist apprentice, Sar, as I sat huddled in a ball, carried by Biff, whose body blocked all sight of me from the apprentices.

  We did get a few odd looks, but our laughter covered whatever embarrassment I would otherwise have experienced by this undignified position.

  The crowds got thicker as we neared the university, and I felt it was safe to resume walking on my own.

  I flipped another platinum to our tour guide, Sar. “Consider that a tip for the fountain drying spells idea.”

  She grinned. “They do keep the fountain clear of dust and dirt.” She admitted. “There sure was a lot of it around the outside of the enchanter’s guild, though. From where we were, it looked like one of those giant mushroom puff balls exploding in a field.”

  The group had split up so we would not have looked obvious together, and we regrouped at the great archway that led into the university.

  “Where to, big tipper?” Sar asked.

  “Geology department.” I directed.

  “Excellent! I like the Earth Sciences building. Lots of rocks, bones, and monster skeletons!”

  “I think they like to refer to that as natural history,” Biff said.

  Several of us looked at our muscle-bound protector in surprise. “What?” He said, seeing our looks, “I can have interests other than breaking chairs and throwing bottles, you know. Besides, I worked on weekends for an entire summer at our Keelwell Museum.”

  He looked at our startled faces and said, “What? It was quiet. I got bored and read a lot.”

  Biff was always surprising me in little ways with both his compassion and intellect. He looked like a big, dumb, musclebound ox. And he was most of that, but just not the dumb part.

  Sar didn’t know where our professor’s office and labs might be, but she got us to the department without any difficulty. Since our person of interest was Professor Lowdia Fawcett, who was the department chair, starting at the department offices made the most sense.