Chapter 10: The Sorcerer's Contract (1)

Few meals of Lukas’s life compared to the ones hosted by the Lord Of Brawls and Feasts. Eighty years and several dozen more lived through the clones was a long life by human standards, at least. Much to his surprise, the breakfast made an excellent attempt at competing. Just as Lukas finished his pastry stuffed with tomatoes, fresh mozzarella-like cheese, and a leaf that smelled like basil, a new one appeared before him. Meanwhile, El-One worked on his second mountain of scrambled eggs, sausages, and blood pudding. If their host was embarrassed by their animalistic assault on the restaurant’s offerings, she didn’t let it show. “I don’t yet know how long I’ll stay in Iskander,” the woman said, petting the winged kitten sitting on her lap. Lukas hadn’t learned much about Fracture’s magic but had figured out enough to identify a familiar. He could feel the concentrated magic leaking from the tiny feline and was sure it and she were a contracted pair. “But while here, I need personal couriers available at my beck and call around the clock. Rain or shine. Morning or night. If I need a package delivered or picked up, you will need to see the job done. I’ll pay you five times the courier service’s rates, but that will come with the expectation of protecting them with your life.” “Five shells isn’t a lot to risk one’s life,” Lukas commented, sipping on the second-finest mint tea he had ever consumed. “For that kind of service, we need more and to know more about you. What is it you do, Lady Laurent?” “Penelope or Penny is fine. I’d rather keep interactions informal if we are to work together. Titles and honorifics are tiring.” Penny neatly tucked a loose lock of blonde hair over her right ear. All of her movements felt precise and measured. “It's clear you’ve guessed from the way you’re looking at Bass. I’m a sorcerer and he’s my familiar.” I had my money on a witch or mage. Not sorcerer. It makes sense that she feels a lot older than she looks. “I asked around about you before approaching,” Penny continued. “Is it true? Do you not remember anything from before a couple of weeks?’” “Give or take a few days,” El-One answered, spraying scrambled eggs as he spoke. “And you’re having to establish who you are and learn a lot of things from scratch?” She asked. Lukas nodded. “We’d be struggling a lot more if not for our shards.” “So, I’ll sweeten the pot. Magic lessons. Pillars of Self. My arcane services within reason. All will be available to you if you work with me. We’d be more than employer and employee. We’d be a party.” “A party?” Lukas raised an eyebrow, exchanging glances with his clone. “My research will involve travelling into the undercity,” Penny answered, she petted her familiar as he nibbled on a bit of smoked fish. “Bass and I can handle any threats that might appear. You’ll need to act as scouts, carry harvested materials, and whatever else I might need. The pay will be far more generous for the trips. I’ll pay a crown per delve and five shells per hour we’re down there.” “I assume that’s for each of us?” Lukas put down his pastry, focusing on the woman while El-One continued to eat. He continued when the woman nodded. “Before we accept, I need to know. Why haven’t you approached any of the guilds? Working with a regulated entity with vetted members is surely better than two unknowns you share a wall with. Why us?” “Bass has been observing your activities.” Penny smiled, leaning back in her chair. “By that I mean your day and night time activities. You’re clearly more than you present yourself to be and your ambitions are far greater than that of a courier, blacksmith, or simple scholar.” Her eyes flashed amber as she spoke. “Besides, guild members are loyal to their organization first and employer second. I can’t afford for them to sell information regarding my studies, packages, or undercity activities with anyone else.” Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. “And you think we won’t do the same?” El-One asked, once again spraying food as he spoke. The clone knew to play the role of the foolish, boorish brother and did so well. “I’m under no such illusion. Hence, there will be a magically binding contract ensuring that neither of you will or can act against me or share anything pertaining to my work.” Penny paused, studying the pair and especially focusing on Lukas. “I can see you’re hesitating. You have a cracked shard. Do you not? I’ll help you repair it.” “How the dragonblight did you hear about that?” El-One demanded, dropping his fork. Dragonblight? Is the journal’s translation starting to affect him, or did we pick up new lingo without me realizing? “I didn’t hear about it,” Penny said, her smile widening. “Sorcerers have the means of detecting such things. I can sense the shard and the essence you have hidden in your room. If you work with me, I can provide wards to ensure others with acute arcane senses don’t pick up their scent.” Maybe I should’ve picked up Deceptive Facade. “We’ll need to see the contract, but your terms thus far sound reasonable,” Lukas said. “In fact, I suspect you’re underselling the danger involved because everything currently favors us. Or do you want to take advantage of our lack of memories? My brother and I—” Penny reached inside of her coat and retrieved a rolled piece of parchment. She handed it to Lukas and sat in silence while he read it. He went over it once. Twice. Then, a third time before handing it to the clone. “Read through it while I respond to nature’s calling.” Lukas offered Penelope a polite nod. “If you’ll excuse me, my lady.” The sorcerer’s eyes narrowed, but a smile lingered. “It’s Penny.” Much to Lukas’s relief, the washroom had a window. He summoned a basic clone. “Sign it. Keep her busy.” “Got it, boss,” El-Two saluted before giving Lukas a boost, and he slipped out through the window. Before his first transmigration, Lukas wasn’t much of a gambler. He and his college friends would jokingly bet on things, but they never put money or anything that mattered on the line. The concept of high risk and reward never made much sense to Lukas or appealed to him. His opinions on the matter have changed over the past six decades. Thanks to Arcane Clone, calculated risks paid off more often than not. Most knowledge of magical contracts had left Lukas following his arrival on Fracture. However, he still remembered that they were literal and some rules, he hoped, were universal. Only living entities had the power to pour intent into magic. All forms of written magic—spellscripts, enchantments, and contracts—were literal in every sense of the word. Penelope’s contract said that all who broke its terms, including her, would suffer several degrees of pain. It ranged from migraines to death, depending on the severity of the infraction. It said nothing about the soul of the signee and only mentioned their physical body. Lukas believed such a loophole benefited a sorcerer. If she had healing magic, the woman could violate a term that almost killed her but not quite and then recover to full. Meanwhile, unaware signees had no such protection. Unless they were clones, of course. If Lukas discovered that the woman’s intentions and plans didn’t align with his own or selling her secrets would benefit him in the long run, he wanted the option at hand. The clones would suffer if he broke the contract rules, assuming dispelling and resummoning didn’t already break the spell, and not him. Now, Lukas only hoped that he was right and Penelope wouldn’t find out if the contract became void. To err on the side of caution, he returned to the inn and retrieved all of his money, the cracked shard, essence, and the shortsword from their hiding place above a loose ceiling panel. It was tempting to break into Penelope’s room and investigate her, but Lukas didn’t dare do so himself. It could prove fatal if she had traps in place to protect her belongings against intruders. The odds of wards or protective enchantments were much too high. Next, Lukas ventured out into the city, heading for the poorer end near the walls. He wanted a safe hiding place for later in the day when the clones returned to the inn, and El-Two dispelled himself. If the act set off Penelope’s alarms, he didn’t want to be around for whatever fallout followed.