Satchel, Jarek, and Basco sat around the large table in the middle of the study. The party was over. Basco reassured his guests that the young lady was quite all right, just a case of exhaustion. He had allowed them to revel for another hour or so before sending everyone home, including the doctor. Orvis had brought three mugs of coffee, something Satchel had never tasted. Jarek told him that the drink was expensive and that every sip should be savored. The young thief found that he enjoyed it quite a bit.

  “Now,” said Basco, “to the matter at hand.”

  “The ring,” said Jarek.

  “Yes, the ring.”

  Jarek recounted the details of Addie’s job.

  “She didn’t tell us much about her meeting with her employer,” said Jarek, “only that he had hired her to carry out the exchange. The ring was left in an envelope along with her instructions. The paper disintegrated in her hands as though burned by fire.”

  Basco’s furled his eyebrows. “Magic?”

  Jarek nodded.

  “Why didn’t you mention this before?”

  “Two reasons. One, it could have been a showman's trick. I've seen something like it before, admittedly not that sophisticated. Two, magic is dying throughout the world, Basco. I wasn’t entirely convinced magic was involved until that ring electrocuted me.”

  “Fair points.” Basco shifted in his chair. “Still, it’s nasty business if magic is indeed involved.”

  “There’s more to it than that.”

  “Oh?”

  “The parchment. I spoke with several scribes in Ire. I also checked with the scholars at the library here in Leona. None of them can explain it.”

  “Explain what, exactly?”

  Jarek produced the scroll from a pocket in his cloak and handed it to Basco. Despite the rigors of the road, the paper appeared unharmed. Its black seal still held strong, and the embossed symbol looked as menacing as ever.

  “The paper is indestructible,” continued Jarek, “as is the seal.”

  Basco took the scroll and examined it.

  “To add further intrigue, some crazed bard assaulted us to get it. Someone else dressed in black intervened and they both disappeared.”

  Basco’s eyebrows went up. "Intriguing and curious." His eyes returned to the seal. “I know this symbol, but from where?”

  The former mercenary pressed a hand to his forehead as though trying to remember. Satchel stared at the symbol.

  “It looks kind of like the thing I saw on that old map,” he said.

  The two older men looked at Satchel and asked, simultaneously, “What map?”

  Satchel left his chair, grabbed the rolled-up parchment from where Orvis had placed it, and spread it across the table. He pointed to the symbol next to Erasmus Inkwell’s name. "Right there.”

  “When did you look at this this map?” asked Basco.

  “Earlier today, when I snuck in here.”

  Basco chuckled. “You take after the old purse snatcher too much.”

  “Says the one-eyed codger,” retorted Jarek.

  “At least I’m a well-fed codger.” He rested his hands on the map and studied the symbol, comparing it with the seal. “You’re on to something, boy. But what connection could there be?” Basco’s eye fell on the notes written next to Makaran. In almost a whisper, he said, “Impossible.”

  “What's impossible?” asked Jarek.

  Basco shook his head. “No, it’d be too fantastic.” He sat back, silent for a moment. “The ancient Vai’Aneen Empire.”

  “The…what?” said Satchel.

  Basco chewed his lower lip and then began, “It vanished from the world in the blink of an eye. A vast nation of sand elves disappeared in an instant. It’s been one of the greatest mysteries in the world of academia. Many scholars, including myself, have tried to discover how it happened, but none have ever uncovered a solid lead. Conclusions are as varied as the people searching for the answer. One outlandish theory even involved a musician causing their downfall.”

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  Satchel’s eyes widened. “A musician?” said the young thief as he gave Jarek a poitned look.

  Jarek scoffed. “No way. The Vai’Aneen Empire collapsed over two hundred years ago. That bard couldn’t have been more than thirty-five years old. No human lives that long.”

  “A human may not be that old,” said Basco, “but the instrument might be. It could have been passed on from one person to the next. Your bard might be the latest in a long line of musicians to use it. If you believe the ancient myths, there are plenty of stories involving cursed implements causing chaos and mayhem of all kinds. This instrument may have played a part in the Empire’s destruction. You say it was a mandolin that the bard played?”

  Satchel nodded. The tune surfaced in his mind. “Maybe the drawing on the map is the mandolin,” he said. He traced his finger along the hashed lines on the map. The song grew louder. “These lines could be the paths taken by the minstrel. Or the instrument.”

  “Did you make these notes?” Jarek asked Basco.

  Basco replied, “No. I got this map from a traveling peddler near the edge of the desert. He said he got it off the body of another scholar who had gone mad. Perhaps it was this Erasmus character.”

  “Say all this is true,” said Jarek, “and I’m not saying it is, but if this is true, does that mean that an instrument capable of destroying an empire is roaming the streets of Ire?”

  The sentence hung heavy in the air.

  “Possibly,” said Basco.

  As Jarek made to stand Basco put a hand up. “Now, hold on. I know what you’re thinking, but if the bard wanted to wipe out Ire, he would have already done it. Besides, what could you do against that kind of power?”

  Jarek opened his mouth to speak but didn’t. He sat back down, deflated. “You’re right.”

  “We know that the bard was after the scroll,” said Satchel. “Any idea why he wanted it?”

  “Without knowing the scroll’s contents,” said Basco, “we can’t be sure.” He wiped his face with his hands. “I feel as though we’re chasing air. All of this is speculation and could mean nothing. And we’ve yet to touch on your other mysterious object: the spyglass.”

  Jarek sighed, but the kind that sounded glad for a change of subject. “The spyglass. Yes. We may have more luck there. Someone in Brunland might be able to give us hand there: Sebastion.”

  Basco scoffed, “The pirate? You can’t be serious.”

  “Dead serious,” said Jarek. “I can’t help but think these two items are connected. The boy here was hired to steal both. The scroll hasn’t gotten me anywhere. Right now, the spyglass is only real lead I have.”

  “It’s Sebastion, Jarek. Surely you haven’t forgotten?”

  “Of course I haven’t, but I have to try.” He breathed in, pursed his lips, and then, as though reciting a passage of holy scripture, said, “The oath of brotherhood and service shall always be—”

  Basco cut him off. “Don’t quote that at me.” He let the momentary irritation pass and then sighed. “We’re not young anymore, old friend. If this mess is even half as bad as we think, this will be incredibly dangerous.”

  Jarek hesitated and then said, “You're right. And you've lost enough. You don’t have to help me, Basco. You’ve already done enough.”

  “No, I haven’t,” he replied as though giving in to an argument. “We’re brother-in-arms. Always.” He smirked. “We’re a pair of old fools, you realize that?”

  Jarek smiled. “I do.” He clapped Satchel on the shoulder. “That’s why we have the next generation to take care of things.”

  Satchel felt as though he had missed something, as though there was a conversation within the conversation that he failed to understand.

  A knock came at the door. A moment later, Orvis walked in.

  “Master,” he said, “I came to inform you that there is no change in the girl’s condition. She still sleeps but rather fitfully.”

  “Thank you, Orvis.”

  After the butler left, Satchel asked Basco a question he had wanted to ask for the last hour, “Do you know who that man was that danced with Addie?”

  Basco shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Sorry. He was no one I recognized. I assume he came with one of the other guests.”

  Satchel frowned and sat back in his chair with a sigh.

  “We need to decide our next course of action,” said Jarek. “I am concerned about Addie’s well-being, but this matter is too important to wait for her recovery.”

  Basco tapped a finger on his upper lip and said, “A thought occurs. It would likely turn out to be nothing, but I’ve heard of an old woman who lives in a bog about half a day’s walk southeast of the city. She chases off anyone that wanders near.”

  Jarek cocked an eyebrow at Basco. “What does some crotchety old woman have to do with any of this?”

  “Don’t sound so negative. There is sound reasoning to my suggestion.”

  “Which is?”

  Basco leaned forward in his seat. “Rumor has it she’s one of the Sisters.”

  “Ridiculous,” Jarek said as he rolled his eyes.

  “The…Sisters?” asked Satchel.

  “The Sisters of Six,” said Basco, eyes glinting, “also known as the Daughters of the All-Father. According to legend, there were six beings created by the All-Father shortly after he created this world. They were to act as guides for the creatures of our world, including humans. To aid in their task, the Sisters had been granted the ability to change their form at will. The legends also say that they’re supposed to be immortal and have a special connection to the realm of the gods.”

  “Bah,” said Jarek. “Gods may be real, but these Sisters haven’t shown their faces in centuries. Superstitious tales to scare children.”

  Basco shrugged. “Perhaps, but we can’t simply ignore talk of gods and magic. Not anymore. Even if she isn’t one of the Sisters, she has some knowledge of magic. She might be able to shed some light on what’s happened to the young lady. If we’re lucky, she may even have answers about this mysterious scroll.”

  Jarek frowned. “It still sounds like a waste of time, especially on so flimsy a premise.”

  “Look at it this way: we can’t learn any more from the young lady until she awakens, and whether we go to Ire or Brunland, it will take a while to prepare. If we’re to defend the world from a magical artifact capable of immense destruction, I want to be ready.”

  Jarek grunted and sat back. He glanced at the pendulum clock near the fireplace. “I still think it’s a fool’s errand. But, if we’re doing this, we need to be quick about it. An early start means we need rest.”

  Basco nodded. “I’ll have Orvis ready some provisions for the three of us in the morning. We’re in for a long day.”

  Satchel then asked, “Along the way, can you tell me more about how you beat the ogre?”

  Basco smiled. “I still owe you that story, don’t I? You know what? I’ll do better than tell you. How about I show you?”

  Satchel gave Basco a perplexed look. “What do you mean?”

  “Stay here, I’ll return shortly.”

  Basco stood and left the room.

  Jarek rose from his seat and said, “I’m going to bed. Enjoy Basco’s story, but don’t be up too late.”

  “You’re not staying?”

  “Not only was I there, but I’ve also heard him tell it a thousand times already. That and I’m exhausted. Good night, Satchel.”