Minor Mage by T Kingfisher

Author:T Kingfisher [Kingfisher, T]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781614505006
Publisher: Red Wombat Studio
Published: 2019-07-30T05:00:00+00:00

The armadillo was fine, insofar as a familiar separated from his wizard is ever fine. He had found a couple of slugs. They were not nearly as good as the slugs in the vegetable garden back home, but they were filling, he’d give them that.

He had paced a circuit of the hillside, which was a much more serious matter for an armadillo than a human.

Oliver and Trebastion were inside the ruined tower. He didn’t dare get too close to the bandits, though. There’s a certain sort of person for whom every moving thing is target practice.

The armadillo waited until darkness fell. When the woods were deep and dark and creaking in the night, he climbed the hill.

The sentry was staring into the darkness, for all the good it did him. Whistles and grunts and all-purpose snores came from inside the tower.

Eglamarck crept through the grass to the edge of the circle of firelight.

The sentry stared off over the familiar’s head.

For humans, darkness is a problem. For armadillos, it’s a natural state.

When he was confident that most of the bandits were sleeping, the armadillo backed away from the firelight and trotted around the back of the tower.

At a certain point, he stopped.

Wizards have more senses than ordinary people do. They can detect magic in other wizards, feel the presence of demons, and a few—the very powerful ones—can taste time passing, which tends to make them cranky.

Familiars have all those senses and one more—the ability to know, without question, where their wizard is at all times.

Eglamarck knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Oliver was on the other side of this particular stone.

He examined the stone without much hope. It looked to weigh at least a ton.

Five minutes of digging was enough to confirm that the floor of the tower was also stone, and there would be no burrowing to the rescue.

That left him with only one alternative.

Eglamarck sighed, curled up into as tight a ball as he could, and sent his mind into the darkness.

Hey.

Hey.

Oliver.

You. Yes. Hey. Pay attention!

Oliver opened one eye in the darkness.

Somebody was talking inside his head. It sounded like—

“Armadillo?”

Not out loud, unless you want to wake the guards. Also, it makes you sound crazy.

“But I don’t know how to think at you,” he whispered.

The voice sighed in his head. Just pretend you’re talking, only don’t move your lips. Like learning to read silently instead of out loud.

Oliver struggled with this concept for a minute, then—

LIKE THIS?

Can you think any quieter? It’s like a gong in there.

SORRY. IS THIS BETTER?

Not… really. Never mind. Not important.

HOW ARE YOU DOING THIS?

I’m a familiar. You’re my wizard. It’s a thing we can do.

YOU NEVER DID IT BEFORE!

Never really saw the point. Anyway, I wasn’t sure if I could until I tried, and there was a small chance you’d go mad, so I didn’t want to risk it.

GO—WAIT. HOW SMALL A CHANCE? Oliver opened both eyes and stared up in the darkness.

Vanishingly minor, I should think. Although if you start hearing a bunch of other voices in here, and I’m just one of them, then we may have a problem.

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