I’d never been in the habit of having very many visitors
inside my humble home let along trying to fit much more than myself inside at
any one time. But strangely enough Glitch didn’t seem to make it any shorter on
space than if it was just me alone. The obvious explanation was that since he
was somewhat smaller than me it wasn’t comparable to me having to share the
living space with anyone larger. Yet, I also couldn’t discount the fact that he
had been used to calling an even smaller pile of scrap home might have
something to do with it. My place must seem like a palace in comparison.
He had even patched up a few things like my chairs that I
had only been able to piece back together into a makeshift manner. As I glanced
around I caught sight of the differences, all the little things that stood out
to me from how I had left them. Things like my chairs for example, some of my
books had been respectfully returned to their rightful places and there was
something new mounted to my wall as well.
It looked harmless enough, like an unassuming slender plaque
that I couldn’t identify the material that had been used to make it. For all I
could tell it might have been shaped from some exotic wood, but I wasn’t
certain. The only thing that I was sure of was that until Glitch held his hand
up to it, I couldn’t detect any magic moving through it. Once he had however,
pulsing power scattered its way to weave a web of worked spells all over my
home. Leaving a gossamer glow of sigils and glyphs that marked its presence as
easily as moonlight marks the night.
“Glitch, where did that thing come from,” I asked
immediately. “Oh, I found it,” he told me flatly. “Some people throw the
strangest things out for the junk pile. It is very handy for someone with some
skill to scavenge them so they don’t go to waste.”
“What does it,” I started to ask, only to be cut off. Glitch
gave me a stare that made me feel like some foolish young student. “It keeps
things inside in and things outside out,” he eventually explained. I had already
guessed as much and had been expecting something more along the lines of how it
accomplished it. Or, perhaps to at least be told some degree of detail about
it. After waiting for a few more moments no further information came, forcing
me to accept I had all the answers I was going to get from a gremlin.
Deciding it was a better idea to redirect the conversation I
debated about asking anything more on Glitch’s family or to mention the
mysterious piece of amber. I wasn’t sure which would be the more appropriate
subject, seeing as how his family seemed to be a sensitive one. Was it polite
to probe a gremlin about personal matters I wondered? It wasn’t like there was
a wealth of common knowledge available about what was rude to them, at least
not that I was aware of.
The one thing I could count on was that they all shared a
natural curiosity. It was within reason that a fresh puzzle might help him
distract his thoughts long enough before we broached that issue. Besides I was
rather interested in it myself, which reminded me of another thing; Glitch’s
gadget had also eluded my senses until it activated. Could the two different
creations share a similar characteristic that gave them such a capability?
“Glitch, why is it that I couldn’t tell that this toy of yours
was here until now?” My inquiry sparked another surge of satisfaction from the
small scrap-smith. “See, now you can tell it is more treasure than trash too,”
he cheered. “Even a SpellHound can be blind to see such things from time to
time.
There is more to magic than just what even you can see.
There is so much more that isn’t easily experienced, it takes time to
understand. Can you see the life that flows through the forest? Do you smell
the fish deepest down in the dark water? No, not even a SpellHound can pierce
beyond the surface of the oldest primal powers.
The spells shaped to craft that prize is far older than
Emberhelm and make use of such potent forces.” I was still processing what he
had said when my impromptu instructor fell silent. He had hit the nail on the
head alright I suppose; SpellHound’s had been born with the ability to perceive
magic in all its forms. We could see it, smell it, even taste and hear it. And
as uncomfortable as it could be there were times we had to touch it.
Now, don’t misunderstand me because you walk around in a
world where magic is everywhere. You can’t avoid coming in contact with it. But
for a SpellHound there are times when you have to make use of your senses to
discern how dangerous some things are that others aren’t aware of. And if that
means you have malicious magic being slung at you, and then you needed to be
able to feel what it could do in order to defend yourself. It isn’t exactly
pleasant but it can be quite vital.
I couldn’t deny that there weren’t things that I had
considered over the years that might exist that were hidden from me. There was
just so much that I could sense that I had learned to ignore such ideas as
being born of my imagination. Until recently I hadn’t ran across too much that
made me question such concerns. Now I had to review those thoughts anew.
“Okay,” I granted that I couldn’t argue with his point. “So
if I can see this thing while we are inside and it is active then why is it
that it is invisible to me from outside?” This time my question elicited a
contemplative rub of his chin before he formed a response. I couldn’t resist
the realization that there might be an untold amount of knowledge that Glitch
in particular could share with others if anyone bothered to listen. There was
even the possibility that the gremlins as a whole might have much to teach as
well. Who knew how much that their unique connection to things might have
unlocked overtime.
“It sleeps until awakened,” he declared decisively. He
seemed quite sure with his assessment, enough that he added a nod to punctuate
his opinion. “When you are inside and ask it to wake up you can see the life
return to it. But it keeps itself calm as if still slumbering to anything
outside, that way it can spring to life catch things off guard.”
That did make sense in a strange bizarre sort of way I
figured. Well, if you thought of such a thing as some kind of living breathing
thing. This, for me, was a pretty big stretch to believe. It was reasonable
that it was the best way Glitch could explain it though and at least it was a
way to look at it that provided some insight.
“And what would make something block out all sign of magic
entirely,” I had to ask, doing my own imitation of a scholar’s expression of
examination. “Let’s say, for example, that you found an object that was around
others of magical origin. Furthermore let’s say that all these things are
possessions of someone known to have spellcrafting talent. What could not only
resist retaining any residual trace of that touch, but also reduce the
remaining evidence of everything around it?”
Glitch had to really consider that one for awhile. I
actually decided to quit counting my minutes after mentally realizing I was
near to running out of fingers. Could it be that I had just stumped my smart
small little associate? I was honestly beginning to believe that there might be
nothing about magic used in manufacturing such objects that he didn’t know. A
bead of sweat began to trickle down my forehead as I started to face the
concept that I might have over-estimated his wonderful wit.
“It wouldn’t be shaped of stone or steel,” Glitch mused
aloud. His voice held an almost alien quality as he spoke – it was like
listening to some out of place entity as it struggled to form a clear view of
things. But instead of its analysis being one formed internally it was being
birthed along with breath. The whole atmosphere around us was a peculiar mix of
still air and strange silence.
“Such materials are strong, resilient; capable of holding a
respectable repository of power for sustained use,” he continued his
unconscious commentary. “But, not all energy can be contained thusly. Some
forces need to flow as they naturally do; they need a living thing to tie them
to a core of their creation. Very few living people have the memories of how
such magic used to be molded to make such a vessel. And even less might have
the mastery to recognize it rightly.”
Eyes the color of swimming salmon stared of into nothing as
I studied Glitch’s face. Slowly they started to clear from whatever mental maze
had gripped the gremlin. I couldn’t really mark what exactly it might mean, but
I kept my attention firmly trained on the tiny tinkerer. There was more he had
left to say, I could feel it.
“What you’re describing,” he offered as his voice returned
to its more familiar sound. “The thing you speak of is a primal and quite
potent natural method of magic. It would be bound to a substance that held a
living life at some point. Stone may have held the energy of the earth passing
through it, but what you seek would have had to been something that grew. For
example a long lived limb of wood could be worked to provide its primal essence
to some arcane energy if properly shaped. It isn’t easily done; it takes time
and instinct to fuse everything intuitively in a way that can prevent becoming
rejected. Things are done differently now; cruder some would say but progress
is proof that elegance isn’t necessary if function is a foundation.”
At some point while Glitch had been sharing his speculations
with me I had withdrew the amber amulet from my pocket. It still didn’t feel
any different than any other commonly found chunk of solidified sap but it
still seemed wrong to me. My fingertips felt their way over its exterior
finding nothing out of the ordinary. My mind was still working to incorporate
what Glitch had explained, trying to tie anything together it could.
Looking down at the yellowed brown substance resting in my
hand seemed to draw Glitch’s eye. When I looked back up I could see the
unspoken question behind his eyes. I didn’t have to tell him anything more than
I already had. But it was in my nature to be straight with people.
“I found this at a lady’s house, among her things,” I
admitted. “She was involved in a crime that took advantage of her ability to
use magic. Problem is that someone has done something to her that has shattered
her mind and left little clue as to what was going on. People have tried to
kill me, her place was invaded – they killed her mother and nearly did the same
to her father. There was a kid in the house who will probably never forget what
happened and I have no idea if anything else was taken to cover their tracks.
Something very dangerous is in the works, Glitch, and I have
been asked to get to the bottom of it. For fate’s favor I would have done so if
for no other reason than people needed help. I have the ability to make a
difference and there are people paying a price they don’t deserve.”
I had to take a second to compose myself before I continued.
Once I had I made a conscious effort to try to get my focus back on track to
where it needed to be. “So, is there any way you could figure out where this
thing came from or how it works? Right now it is just about all I have to go
on.”
An excited glee fell over Glitch that he couldn’t hide at
all, not that it seemed like he even bothered to try. He grinned so big that
his teeth even began to show; it was the fiendish look of fun that can make you
hesitate. “Well, let’s take a little look-see, shall we,” he exclaimed.
Before I could make any move to say a word a thing of amber
was already in his hand and being scrutinized. From the devilish drive that now
motivated his every move I began to question if the trinket would still be in
one piece by the time any answers came. But I suppose you just have to trust
people sometimes.
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