| SORCEROUS SIGNALS |
| Written by J R Tomlin / Artwork by Lee Kuruganti |
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| The Case of the Misshappen Rune |
Camthaleon ran the dust cloth over the potion bottle making sure that it was immaculate before he sat it on the shelf. The
sunlight from the window caught it, showing swirls of purple and green in the liquid. The potion inside had taken a
considerable amount of time and ingredients to craft and would bring a tidy profit from the right customer.
Nodding, Camthaleon walked through his shop to the counter in the back. Not a single concoction or ingredient was out of
place. There was a faint hint of the scent of hensbane and mandrake in the air, but that was as it should be. Mezebel was
asleep in her basket in the corner with a hint of a smirk on her tiny cat face.
He smiled with satisfaction.
The rune on the inside of the door gave a harsh buzz letting him know the door was opening, and he watched to see who
this customer might be. Then he saw Amita standing inside the door.
"Oh, it's just you," he greeted her.
The uniform of the City Guard fit her perfectly showing off her trim waist. The top showed just enough of a hint of her
shape to be alluring. She gave him that wide innocent smile and showed him the dimples in her flawless cheeks.
"It's good to see you too, Camthaleon."
"Are you actually here to buy something?"
"Of course not. The Guard needs your help."
Camthaleon rolled his eyes. "I would help the Guard... why?"
Amita cocked her head. "Because I ask you to?"
He raised an eyebrow.
"Or because you don't want Lord Pierval to know it was you who sold his wife that nice little love philter to snare her
latest lover."
His mouth dropped open in dismay. "You wouldn't!"
"Wouldn't I? I really need your help with this, Camthaleon. There's no doubt this is a magic related murder. No one in the
Guard will know how to handle it," she said running her fingers through her cap of short curly red hair.
"Of course they won't. From what I've heard the Guard doesn't have enough brains between them to find their way home
in broad daylight." Camthaleon gave her a meaningful look.
"You hear way too much with those pointy ears."
"Elven ears are supposed to be pointy, thank you." He wondered how a toad would look with dimples.
"Lord Randolph will not be happy if I don't catch this murderer, and I need to keep him happy and get my promotion. I
really need your help with this, Camthaleon."
Camthaleon sighed with resignation. "Very well. Tell me what happened."
"You're going to have to see it. You know that."
Camthaleon ran his hands down the front of his dark blue mage's robe smoothing nonexistent wrinkles, called to Mezebel
who blinked out of sight, then he walked to the door and bowed to Amita motioning for her to precede him into the
noontime sun. No need to lock the door. The ward runes would take care of that.
Amita headed up the hill on the wide, cobbled main street which was bustling with people going about their business as
always. At the top of the hill, the royal castle's white walls rose, crenellated and imposing above the city, but the Amita
stopped about halfway there. She pushed open the solid door to a respectable-looking wooden two story dwelling.
They passed through the entry into a room jumbled with over-turned furniture. For a moment Camthaleon didn't see where
the carnal stench or the prickle of magic that ran up his spine came from.
It wasn't until he looked behind a table that was tilted on its side that he saw the mangled body on the floor. The limbs had
been ripped off, and the body lay in a pool of congealing blood near a circle scribed with runes.
Camthaleon looked down at the runes inscribed on the floor. He hunkered on his heels and traced above one with his
finger not quite touching it. He frowned at it and rubbed his chin.
He stood up and walked around the room prodding at a broken vase here and a torn cushion there. Mezebel popped into
visibility and padded behind him at his heels, fastidiously making sure she didn't step in the occasional splash of blood.
She wended her way to a side door and made a yowling noise at him over her shoulder. Camthaleon opened the door,
sniffed at the odd stench, and gave his familiar a scratch behind her ears.
"You know anything about him?" he asked nodding toward the body.
"He was apparently a weaponsmith from what I've been able to find out. Linstin by name. Lived here with his mother and
a servant. I don't see any sign that the place was robbed. No need to do this just to rob him anyway. Want to hear what
his mother has to say?"
They proceeded into a sitting room where an old woman sat, rocking and muttering to herself. She seemed to be a human
of around seventy years to Camthaleon's eyes, her face deeply scored with lines and wrinkles. Her hair was covered with
a scarf in a way that looked like it might at times be used for a face veil as some of the women from the southern desert
countries do. She was short and wiry, and her arms and throat were covered in loops of gold jewelry.
She started babbling in a language Camthaleon didn't understand, but Amita spit out a phrase that at least slowed the
torrent. He gave Amita a close look and wondered if that small frame of hers might come from a southern heritage he had
never heard about. The old woman continued speaking very fast with Amita interrupting her from time to time with a
question and occasionally interpreting for him.
"Does she know that this was done by a mage, one that summoned a demon from the look of it?" Camthaleon asked.
"I told her that it was a mage, but she doesn't seem to believe me. A demon you think?"
"Oh, definitely."
Amita frowned and turned back to the woman. She spoke to the woman in a low, calming tone. The woman wailed and
gabbled a few sentences back at her. "She says that it could not possibly have been a mage. That her son had no business
with them, and was much to simple and clean-living to have offended anyone enough for them to get one to do this."
"Yes, mages always summon demons to tear apart clean-living weaponsmiths for no cause."
"Mightn't the mage be crazed?" asked Amita
"I doubt it. A crazed mage is unlikely to be able to complete something as complex as a summoning. Although there is
something about some of those runes..."
"What about them?"
"Oh, you want me to explain runes to you now?"
Amita rolled her eyes. "You know I don't want to know about magic. Just figure out who did it so we can catch him."
"Well, check on this Linstin person while I investigate the runes and that odd smell in the closet. See what you can find out
about him. Meet me tonight at the Demijohn Inn when at the fifth bell. He snapped his fingers at Mezebel who disappeared
starting with the tip of her tail.
"Do we have to meet there? They have the worst ale imaginable!"
"But they have excellent elven wine." Camthaleon chuckled.
Amita made a face which Camthaleon ignored as he left and walked up the hill toward the Mage's Conservatory near the
castle. The halls were crowded with chattering students in mage robes whose existence he totally disregarded as he made
his way to the headmaster's office. He had known Master Garnon for decades and felt hopeful the man could solve a
puzzle for him.
"Come," ordered a voice as he reached the door.
"The wards are in working order I see."
"Yes, yes, Camthaleon. You always do excellent wards. They are not in my line at all. And I have a feeling you are not
here to tell me you have changed your mind about teaching."
"Gods, no! The idea of spending my days with bumbling students is enough to put me off my wine for a week. But I was
wondering if by any chance you have a student poor enough at runes to have drawn this..."
With a look of distaste, Camthaleon traced a rune in the air. For a few seconds the shape glowed in front of them before it
disappeared.
"I have seen someone draw a rune exactly like that! The student's name is Kleon. That is a misshapen rune of binding! He
never has learned to draw the thing right. What did the stupid boy manage to turn loose?"
"A demon, it may be." Camthaleon briefly outlined the scene at the dead man's house.
Master Garnon held his head. "The school is going to end up blamed for this one way or another. His father will be sure
we should have kept him in line!"
"A nobleman's son, I'd wager, with a father looking for something to do with him after he set the keep on fire with his
miserable useless minor talent one too many times."
"Yes, it was indeed something very much like that. His father has considerable power in the King's court."
"I can't be sure it was him from the rune. But that is a very badly drawn rune, and I've never seen one like it. In the
meantime, I also have to wonder where the demon he summoned has gotten to."
"If you can manage to see that no one else gets hurt, I will be exceedingly grateful to you."
Camthaleon snorted. "You should be. But at least by helping you, I'll get something out of it beside saving the hide of the
Guard. Where can I find this student of yours?"
Garnon clapped for a scroll of student information that he opened and glanced at before he told Camthaleon where the
young man's lodgings were. Camthaleon decided that getting to the Demijohn early would be no bad thing. While Amita's
dislike did add a certain appeal at the moment, the fact was the inn had the best elven wine in the city.
Seated at a table with a flagon of excellent red wine in front of him, he relaxed for a half hour savoring the fine vintage
before Amita arrived. She sat down opposite him and gave the serving girl a doubtful look. "See if you can find me a
drinkable ale."
He took another sip of his wine, enjoying the fact he was quite certain she would find the ale totally unbearable. "What did
you find out about this fine upstanding weaponsmith?"
"Upstanding weaponsmith, my arse. He was a loan shark on the side and specialized in gouging stupid young students. I
have a list of half a dozen who were in hock to him up to their eyebrows." Amita took a sip of her ale then scowled down
at it before she pushed it away.
"A student by the name of Kleon wouldn't by any chance be on that list?"
Amita looked at him in astonishment. "I should have known! I wasted all afternoon running around finding out about the
loan sharking business, and you already know who did it. You're a wretch!"
"I wasn't quite sure of it yet. And even worse, I don't know where the demon is. But the fact that his name is on that list
confirms my suspicion."
"What? The demon is still around here somewhere?"
"Unfortunately, that's highly likely, my dear." In spite of himself, Camthaleon gave Amita a fond smile before he
remembered he was annoyed with her.
"Oh well, if you don't like your ale, then we can go. I arranged for the young man to meet me at the river near the Mage's
Conservatory garden in an hour. Some guardsmen standing by would be a good idea by the way. My hope is he still has
the demon with him."
Camthaleon drained his goblet. He preceded Amita to the door which he opened for her with a courtly bow. She glared at
him again.
Amita stood next to her squad of guardsmen who were spaced along the river outside the wall of Mage's Conservatory.
The day had waned, and sunset streaked the darkening sky with bands of pink and purple. A scattering of oak trees along
the bank of the river gave a dappling of shadows as Camthaleon muttered a spell under his breath; the guardsmen faded
out of sight.
"Don't move until I say," he ordered.
He patted the potion bottle he had retrieved from his shop. It's a shame to use it, he thought. Then he crossed his arms
across his chest and waited patiently in front of the burbling river for Kleon to arrive while Mezebel curled up next to his
feet. Exactly on the hour, the young man approached. His mage's robe was wrinkled as though it had been slept in and his
face drawn with tension.
"What will it cost for you to keep quiet?" the young man demanded.
"Oh, rather a lot. The question is, where is the demon?"
Kleon glared. "I brought it along just in case!"
"Melarsm!" he shouted and a hulking form stepped from the shadows. At first glance the thing might have been taken for a
huge man if not for the head of a toad that rose from his bulky shoulders.
Camthaleon choked back a gag from the stench.
"Melarsm hungry!" the creature growled as it lumbered toward Camthaleon.
"You aren't feeding here." He pulled the purple and green swirling potion from his pocket. In less than a moment, he had it
unstoppered and dashed it into the creature's face as he spoke a spell to speed the process along.
The demon shrieked as his essence began to fade. He made one last grab for Camthaleon. It was too late for him. With a
pop he was gone.
"Now!" Camthaleon called, snapping his fingers to uncloak the guardsmen.
At that the guardsmen grabbed Kleon from behind.
"Please!" he begged. "I didn't mean to. I was just trying to scare him into giving me more time to pay him. My father
wouldn't give me the money! It was an accident!" Tears streamed down the young mans face.
"Take him away, and gag him if he tries to cast a spell," Amita ordered.
Camthaleon frowned after them as they dragged the young criminal away. "Well his father is of some importance and may
be able to save him from the headsman's axe. I'm truly not sure that his intent was to kill the man. His rune was so poorly
drawn; he had only partial control over the creature."
"That's not for me to decide, thank the gods."
Camthaleon nodded.
"And Camthaleon, thank you for your help." She scooped up his familiar to scratch the cat's ear.
He smiled. "Well... you're welcome. But don't expect me to ever make the mistake of telling you who I've made potions
for again."
Amita grinned. "Of course not."
Camthaleon winced at the total confidence in her cocky smile, dismayed as ever that an elf of his years would still be
susceptible to feminine charms.
"No, that won't work either." He put his hand on the small of her back as they started together down the hill. "But come
along. I know a place that serves excellent ale."
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