My third stop was at the sage guild hall and Madame Clutch. The hall was at 3:00 if the central plaza was a clock with noon pointing north toward the fountain or the Diagonal. It was the first of the guild halls you encountered if you were traveling west down St. Michael’s Way from the cathedral or Master Sundance’s shoppe. St. Michael’s Way was one of the core roads crossing the city and the plaza. Other than Wall Street which followed the perimeter of the city’s great protective walls, it was the main east-west road in Keelwell.

  I had exchanged many messages between my master and various sages, and my interactions with the ever-present Madame Clutch were never personable. On one occasion, she made me wait over half an hour while she completed some writing she was scribbling on loose parchments. She was never mean, but I always felt that I was more of a subject to be analyzed (or ignored) than anything else.

  As I approached the door, I was met by a warrior in full plate armor. The guild had improved their security since the last time I was here. When I delivered my initial letter earlier this morning, the guy at the door looked more like an adult apprentice than any actual muscle-for-hire.

  This warrior looked like he knew what he was doing. His clothes and armor were impeccable, and he did not look like a simple mercenary or brawler. He wore a navy blue cloak pinned with an odd medallion resembling an unusual formation of three letters, SCS, forming a kind of vertical semi-infinity symbol. He also wore a sword, a large ax on each hip, and a shield across his back.

  “Your business, young apprentice?” He asked as I came to stand before him, fearing to enter the door without his approval.

  I produced my letter from Madame Clutch. He read it quickly, nodded, and opened the door for me. “Be patient; she has been especially abrupt this morning, " the warrior said as he allowed me to enter and closed the door behind me. He stayed at his post outside.

  I entered the familiar hallway and atrium of the sage’s guild. True to form, Madame Clutch was behind her desk with a tall and precariously balanced stack of books on its right-hand edge. Her brown robes were neat and orderly, even if her hair seemed ruffled. As I approached, she sighed deeply and looked up.

  “What is it now? Is it too much to ask for ten uninterrupted minutes?”

  Her voice echoed around the atrium. Not a single person could be seen. No students were passing by to get to the kitchens or mages traveling back and forth between projects.

  She was alone, which meant others were avoiding her today.

  And that was not a good sign.

  I gave her my best smile and a deep bow, which I held, hoping desperately that she would not make me wait this way for a half hour again.

  “What doddering old fool are you looking for, young enchanter? Be quick; I have a tight schedule.” She snapped before I could speak.

  “Ummm, you Mistress Clutch?” I replied.

  “What?” She half shrieked. “Are you calling me a doddering old fool, boy?”

  I heard the front door open, and the guard stepped inside. But she quickly controlled her temper and said, “I won’t sick the dogs on him, Thomas. All is well.” The guard exited once more.

  She sighed and then perked up. “Wait, you are Randal’s son, aren’t you? Stand up, boy, and let me look at you. In those robes, you younglings all look alike to me.”

  I stood and kept my smile, although I feared it was getting a little thin.

  “Yes, you look just like him when he was young.” And Mistress Clutch smiled. She actually smiled, and it went from her mouth to her eyes, and nothing exploded. She looked human.

  “Yes, Mistress Clutch, I am Professor Istari’s son.” I knew that sages would not be impressed by a long title or the title lord, but the title professor they could get behind. As far as a sage was concerned, dad was one of them, even if he did not directly work with magic. He worked with something even more valuable. Knowledge. And he was very good at it.

  She seemed to pick up on my choice of words and nodded approval. “Right, I see you have responded promptly to my return message. That’s a good sign. Many of your peers and more than a few masters are not nearly detail-oriented enough. That’s a good sign and what I would expect of your father’s son.” She replied with more courtesy than I had ever received from her before.

  Madame Clutch momentarily rummaged around on her less-than-tidy desk, conveying the exact opposite in practice to her spoken words seconds ago. But she produced my letter. “It’s good to see the respect paid to your elders in other guilds. That’s rare these days. I’m not sure I approve of the second request, but it is harmless enough, and perhaps you will learn something from an hour’s effort or so.”

  I grimaced. My master insisted that in addition to the typical letter to Madame Clutch that I sent to all the guild notables, I included a second part where I requested, in my own handwriting, to observe the guild mascot parrot in isolation for an hour to gain further respect of all creation’s living creatures and gain insights into flight and wonders yet undiscovered as I began my journeyman’s travels.

  “Got into a bit of trouble with your master, eh?” She chuckled. “Well, getting that pesky parrot out of my hair for even an hour is worth the interruption.”

  I jumped in surprise as a loud squawking from nearby the guild’s floating magical orb echoed through the atrium.

  “You see what I mean?” She harrumphed. “Well, first things first. What is your request for assistance? I don’t have time for your story or to share mine.” She softened as she said, “Although, for your father, I might be willing to sacrifice a bit of time if necessary.”

  I decided that getting out of the atrium as soon as possible was the best option, so I replied, “Thank you kindly, Mistress Clutch. In preparation for my trials, I have created rings,” and I gave her the fastest rendition of my story yet.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “And do I understand that you created the jewelry yourself?” She inquired.

  I looked surprised. I was not sure how she knew about that. But then again, my master had sent me to her, and if he had met with her just as he had with Wizards Olivia and Draconis and also with Master Gizmo, then she might know more about me than I expected.

  She saw my look and chuckled again. “Young man, information is the magic of our guild.” She looked around the hall and, seeming satisfied, she continued quietly. “Please check in with the orb. I want to see it myself before you and our mascot spend some quality time together.”

  I approached the orb. This one was not set upon a grand pedestal and surrounded by statues. It was nestled beside several tall green plants and the parrot’s perch. Like the others, it was brownish in hue. It pulsated and hovered a meter off the ground above a platinum base. Wisps of magical vapors, mostly in shades of brown, filtered between the lower base and orb.

  I placed my hand upon the orb and received a repeat of my experience in the elementalist’s guild hall. Madame Clutch whistled slowly. “I need to connect you with Davon before you go galavanting off on your own. I’ll have him send you an invitation. I think he would like that.”

  She stared at me expectantly. I had no idea what she just offered me, but clearly she thought that she was doing me a favor. I smiled and bowed again. “On behalf of my master, my father, and myself, I thank you, Mistress Clutch.”

  “Tut tut. Enough of the bowing; it gets old. Okay, give me a copper and a silver ring. I’ll get you started with a couple of sage volume spells.”

  Sage guild spells were called volumes like mine were arcana, and wizards were called marks. Each mage guild had its own names for spell levels.

  Madame Clutch cast a first volume spell called Map on the copper ring and a fourth volume spell, Copy Magical Book, on the silver ring. She also handed me a scroll parchment in a sturdy leather case for the map spell and a medium leather-bound tome for the copy spell. These wyrds were material spell components used but not consumed by these particular sage spells. I could map wherever I found myself, at least for the 12-hour duration of the spell, or copy any magical book I discovered in the future. They sounded like modest spells given the powerhouses given to me previously, but each could prove very helpful in their own rights.

  “You can use meeting room one at the end of the hall and furthest from me for your observation. Good luck.” She said, going back to looking for some documents amid the papers on her desk.

  I put the book and map scroll in my backpack before tackling the bird stand. I struggled to carry the heavy birdstand down the hallway as silently as possible without scratching the floors or walls. The parrot stayed on the perch until I started breathing heavily, and then it decided to fly off into the room ahead of me.

  That made the job easier, and I made it to the meeting room a few minutes later. The overly large and colorful parrot sat atop an empty fireplace mantle, waiting impatiently—at least, that is what it appeared to me until I entered and placed his perch on the floor. As soon as the perch stopped teetering back and forth and came to a rest, he flew up onto it, peering down at me as if I were a small bug or reptile he was waiting to pounce upon.

  I cleared my throat nervously. My master was quite serious that I treat this animal with the deepest respect, and failure to do so would get back to him and would be met with his sincere displeasure.

  Apprentices are pretty used to the odd requests and behavior of our masters. And Master Corwyn was no exception. But I usually understood why I had to complete his strange requests. Usually, it was a punishment or lesson that I had to learn. Since there was no stopping this, and the hourglass that spontaneously appeared on the table next to me began sending its sand into the glass orb below, I took a deep breath and began.

  I pulled a package from my inner robe pocket, which had been hidden until now. “My master, former guildmaster Corwyn Glimmerblade, asks that I give you half this sleeve for your trouble and that I sit and observe you. I am to speak quietly and soothingly so as not to disturb you and tell you about myself, holding nothing back. By revealing myself so utterly in a safe environment such as this before a creature who could not betray or harm me, I will learn to gain patience, respect, and, if I am lucky, a special wisdom.”

  I placed half of the ginger snap cookie sleeve in his empty food dish and poured some water from a glass pitcher I found in our meeting room. Based on the cool, itchy feeling around my shoulders, I was pretty sure the old water from its dish had spilled out all over my back while I struggled to carry the perch.

  Pulling the most comfortable chair I could see in the room over to the parrot, I began to quietly and slowly tell the parrot all about my life growing up around the university and my work with Master Sundance and Master Corwyn. Since I was instructed to leave nothing out, I included the secrets discovered and the gift of the Damascus text.

  In the beginning, I frequently glanced at the hourglass, but as I became involved in my plans as an enchanter and my work with jewelry and gems, I lost track of time. When I glanced at it later, I saw that nearly all the sand had run out, and I only had a couple of minutes at most remaining.

  I got up and filled the feeding dish with the remaining ginger snaps and thanked the parrot. “I have said things in my heart that I have never really revealed to others, including some new feelings toward Addy.” I paused. “I’d appreciate it if you kept these between us.”

  As the last sand ran out, I got up and reached for the heavy bird stand.

  “Bide a minute, lad; I haven’t had a chance to eat any of these last crackers you have blessed me with.”

  At that moment, I dropped my jaw and must have felt what Adriana felt earlier today. I was speechless. The parrot had just spoken to me.

  “Yeah, your master is a rascal and a dear friend. Secrets for secrets. Trust for trust. What I share now, you must keep silent and secret, or you will have the wrath of an enemy worse than you can imagine.”

  “Of course,” I answered. What else was I going to say? The parrot was talking to me.

  “I am the current Sage guildmaster, and your master is the one who granted me an enchanted bauble that allows me to remain in this form. You should not concern yourself with why this is the case, merely that it is. Only two others know my identity: your master and an absent and wayward pupil of mine whom I miss dearly.

  “You now make three. If a fourth learns of this spell, it will certainly be broken, so I hope the trust I place in you is worthy.”

  I bowed deeply. “Of course, guild master.” I stammered out in reply.

  “Idiot. Keep your voice down. Treat me like an irritable parrot, or you’ll wish you had!”

  “Yes, sir,” I responded quietly.

  The bird sighed. “Close enough, I guess. Now, show me your rings, lad. If we had time, I would add to your plans for permanent rings, but that is not the case because we do not have time, and you will not come back again looking for me. Ever. Right?”

  I nodded silently.

  “Even better.” He said about my silent response.

  I produced a handful of rings.

  “I sit on my casting points day in and day out without using them. I might as well splurge a little for you. I have grandmaster status across several magical concentrations, which you would call other guilds. One at a time, hand me two platinum rings and two silver rings.” He squawked. “Into my claw, not my wing, you dolt.”

  “Oh, sorry,” I said as I lowered the first platinum ring to his raised, clawed foot.

  He made a rude sound but then said, “The first spell I shall give you is a shadow magic seventh darkness spell called Banish Shadows, which could be used against any powerful shadow magic spell you might run into throughout your career. But you best hope it never comes to pass because shadows are extraordinarily powerful in whatever form they take, be it human mage or insectoid construct. This spell might save your life because it is doubtful that anything else you acquire over the next century would help much.”

  Of course, I had heard about shadow magic like all apprentices and journeymen have in our lessons. We are warned that they are nearly undefeatable and comprise one of the three true evils in our realm, alongside necromancy and infernal workings.

  “On your second platinum ring, I cast an illusionist seventh vision spell called Greater Clone. It will make a perfect replica of yourself and all your abilities, appearance, and even weakly magical objects or weapons. It can cast any spell you know and will have casting points equal to your own at the time of casting. The spell will last up to an hour and will obey your conscious will, so be careful what commands you think about issuing it. As long as you remain within a mile of the construct, you can command it mentally, and it will obey. Its voice will be identical to your own and could respond to anything you would do or say under similar situations.”

  “I have never heard of such magic before,” I said, a bit in awe of these two gifts.

  “Yes, well, let's get on with it.” He remarked. “The two silver rings will be offensive combat spells. The first is another illusionist spell, a fourth vision Group Stun spell, and on the last ring, I give you the conjurer’s third construct spell, Destruction. The spells are pretty straightforward. You won’t need to ask me questions, so get me back to the orb and keep your mouth shut.”

  As I walked over and picked up the stand with the guildmaster still sitting on his perch, I barely heard him whisper, “And good luck to you, lad.”