Mage Assassin by Logan Jacobs

Author:Logan Jacobs [Jacobs, Logan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-02-07T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

“He can’t be dead,” I said as I stared at Mazne.

“See for yourself,” Mazne whimpered and wiped some snot on her sleeve.

“Where?” I demanded.

Mazne wordlessly turned to the corridor, and I followed after her. The doe-eyed woman led me down the tapestried hallways toward the Master’s office, and she didn’t speak a word while I tried to steady my racing heartbeat.

Then we reached the doors of Master Abbot’s office, and I found myself staring at the woodwork for a long moment.

I had never entered the office before without his consent, and it didn’t feel right, but I took the handle in my hand. When I stepped over the threshold, the fountain had stopped trickling, and the water was halted midstream. Everything seemed like it was stuck in time, and the air was stale. Even though the Master’s valuables were still stationed in the same places, the room felt strange as if every item around me was holding their breath.

I felt a choke in my throat as I looked around the room, and then I spotted the Master’s chair. The back was facing me as it sat beside the fountain, and Master Abbot appeared to be strewn in it.

Mazne leaned her head around the doorframe, and she looked concerned. Her motherly instincts seemed to have taken over, and instead of crying, she gave me a look that asked if I was okay.

I didn’t say a word to her, I just hurried over to the chair, but when I saw the Master head on, my grief went stagnant in my chest. Suddenly, rage swept through me instead.

This was no natural death.

The Master was slung back in the chair, and his weathered face was as frozen in time as the rest of the room seemed to be. His expression was twisted in fury and pain, and I had never seen a corpse maintain such a look after death before.

I turned up the sleeves of his robe to see if he had been restrained at all, but there was no sign of a struggle. If it wasn’t for his face, then I would have thought he had just died peacefully, but something much darker was at play.

“Who found him?” I demanded of Mazne.

I looked over to the young, doe-eyed woman, who sheepishly stood just in front of the doorframe with her hands clasped in front of her and a thin-lipped smile on her face. She was clearly trying to keep her composure, but her eyes kept trickling with tears.

“It was Elis,” the receptionist admitted.

“Shit.” I looked up to the ceiling and shook my head in disgust. “That kid already has enough darkness to wrestle with.”

“It was only for a second,” Mazne returned. “He opened the door and saw him slumped and called me straight away. I don’t think he even saw the… face… if that helps.”

“I guess so,” I said and started pacing around a bit. “Something is off, Maz. Someone did this. I don’t know how, but the Master was murdered.”

“I think you’re right,” Mazne said in a lower tone.

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