Page 21 of Wizards & Weavers
“Did a wizard happen by your shop earlier today?” Elyssandra asked. “Tall, dark, handsome. Wears a cloak and a very fancy pair of boots.”
Braiden could barely see Arlo’s mouth behind his mustache but somehow knew he’d turned up his lip.
“Confidential,” he answered. “Lots of boots pass this way.”
And this particular pair was headed farther and farther away from them. Braiden imagined Augustin Arcosa standing at the dungeon entrance and murmuring whatever it was a wizard murmured to cast a sealing spell.
“So this man we’re looking for,” Braiden said, “I’ll keep a long story short. There’s a good chance he’s going to seal the dungeon for good. Which I imagine could be bad for business in The Noose, and for you, too. Lots of boots passing this way these days, but no dungeon nearby could mean fewer boots in the future.”
Arlo regarded them in silence, taking a moment to twist something on the rim of the magnifying instrument strapped to his head. It clicked and flickered, the glass showing a vastly enlarged version of a deep blue eye.
“Fewer boots is bad for business,” he finally said.
Braiden nodded. Now they were speaking the same language.
“Needed minor repairs,” Arlo muttered. “Nice boots.”
Elyssandra clasped her hands in excitement. “Truly? He stopped by your shop, then? What did he look like?”
Arlo cocked his eyebrow. “Wears his hair like he doesn’t spend time on it, except you know he spends hours getting it to look that way? Struts around like a cockerel? Talks like he’s full of wind?”
“That’s the one,” Braiden said, careful not to show Elyssandra a triumphant smirk. “Do you know where he went?”
Arlo leaned over his counter and pointed down the street. “Thataway. Said something about buying supplies. You better hurry.”
Elyssandra and Braiden raced down the street, following the curve of The Noose. Braiden’s feet practically flew off the cobblestones. They were pursuing a man who could actually fly, after all. What if he had access to other forms of movement magic, like something to speed up his walking and shopping?
It all sounded so practical compared to the little magics of weaving. Perhaps Braiden should have asked Arlo if he’d sensed any kind of enchantment around Augustin’s boots. Even an enchantment to protect a wearer from the impact of falling could be so helpful. Braiden imagined leaping out of his kitchen window in the morning instead of taking the stairs down to the shop.
Thinking back, he should have asked Elder Orora for a more detailed rundown of her grandson’s talents. Wouldn’t his specialization in wind magic include the ability to blur the air itself? Would a wind wizard know how to make himself invisible? That would be far too unfair.
“There,” Elyssandra hissed. “I’m sure I saw his cloak, right in there.”
Good thing the wizard wasn’t in the habit of turning himself invisible to do some shopping. Very useful for someone so famous, like a reclusive local celebrity. That didn’t sound like Augustin, though. He enjoyed the attention too much.
It was his cloak, all right, along with the rest of his body. The Wizard of Weathervale had changed to a different set of clothes, a deep, somewhat washed-out shade of blue reminiscent of the ocean on an overcast day. The man clearly favored a certain color palette, picking through a similarly bluish stack of adventuring gear in a supply shop.
They watched him through the window, huddling behind some bushes for cover.
“Tents,” Braiden muttered. “I think he’s looking at tents. For camping out in the dungeon? Maybe his last tent was damaged.”
Elyssandra shook her head, rustling the bushes. “Or maybe he doesn’t usually travel with one. Heroes are just people, and some people don’t like roughing it.”
Braiden narrowed his eyes as Augustin poked at a tent in a particularly garish shade of blue. He didn’t even know theysold adventuring equipment in that color. Wouldn’t it make more sense to travel with something in a less obtrusive shade? Whatever happened to a sensible deep green, or a muddy brown, something that didn’t stand out so much?
And then it struck him. Augustin Arcosa was the type of man who didn’t feel the need to keep a low profile. The Wizard of Weathervale wasn’t afraid of a little attention, whether it came from a curious monster or an admiring adventurer.
One of those walked up to Augustin as he perused the aisle. He exchanged a few words with the excited adventurer, someone like Elyssandra, someone who clearly knew who he was. Again Braiden observed the sudden lift in Augustin’s posture, the fleeting glimmer of his smile, like a cloud had passed to let the sun shine through.
The adventurer went back to their shopping. Augustin went back to the slightly tired, slightly rumpled man from before, his shoulders a little more rounded, the dark circles under his eyes a little more pronounced.
And then something else struck Braiden. Physically, this time.
Braiden batted at his head, bothered by the sensation of something that had lodged itself in his hair. Was it a leaf, or a twig blown on the wind? He frowned as he pulled the little object free. It was a crumpled ball of paper, exactly like something a child would throw.
“What in the world?” Braiden stammered, glancing around in search of the culprit.
Elyssandra tugged on his shirt sleeve. “Um, Braid?”
