The Hag's Contract

Twenty-Five

From his tower suite, Candabraxis watched Duke Leor’s ship sail. He sighed in disappointment. They had been so close to success….

Shaking his head, he returned to his packing. He had decided to move on. The force that had drawn him to Grabentod seemed to have left him with the death of the bloodspawn, almost as if defeating it were the sole purpose of his coming here.

From his worktable, he lifted each jar and vial, carefully wrapped them in thick cloths, and stored them in his trunk. He would miss this tower. In the few weeks he’d been here, it had become home.

A knock sounded on his door.

“Come in!” he called.

Harlmut stepped in. “I’m sorry to see you go,” he said. “You are welcome to stay, Candabraxis. We do need a wizard.”

Candabraxis grinned and shook his head. “The urge is on me to travel again, to see more of the world. I think my next stop will probably be Müden.”

“Oh?” Harlmut raised his eyebrows.

The wizard laughed. “Yes, I’ll stop in and see the Erbrecht family. Perhaps I can do some good for you after all … but I would not count on it. I will, however, pass on any messages you care to give me.”

“Of course,” Harlmut said.

“I will miss this place. And you, Regent. You’re a rood man, and you deserve better than you’ve gotten. King Graben may not know how much you’ve done for him … but I intend to let him know.”

“When are you leaving?”

“Captain Evann said I could accompany him tomorrow. He’s got word of a pair of Müden merchant ships passing by tomorrow night, on their return trip. After he’s relieved them of their cargos, I’ll book passage.” He grinned. “I’m sure they’ll be happy to sail under a wizard s protection the rest of the way.”

Harlmut laughed, too. “I’ll miss you, friend.”

The next morning dawned gray. The breeze had come up, bringing a warmer southern wind, and the air tasted of rain to come.

Candabraxis watched the castle’s porters carry his trunks aboard Captain Evann’s roundboat. They took exaggerated care with them, as though they contained priceless chinaware.

Captain Evann met him at the gangplank. Evann had a haunted look and dark circles under his eyes.

“Please,” he said softly, “I have to know … on the way back, one of my men died. He was little more than a boy, really, and he’d been badly wounded. Hawk—the creature, that is—tended him that night. I… need to know. Did it kill him?”

“Would your man have died anyway?” Candabraxis asked.

“I don’t know. Probably. Maybe.”

Candabraxis sighed. “Bloodspawn don’t like to kill,” he lied. “They prefer to take the freshly dead. If the boy was destined to die, the creature would have waited for his natural passing.”

Evann looked relieved. “Thank you,” he said.

“It’s nothing.”

Candabraxis crossed to the ship and moved to the bow, staring out across the waves. He’d thought his destiny might lie in Grabentod, but no. His future lay out there, somewhere to the south. Müden … or beyond? He couldn’t say for sure. All he knew was that his wanderlust had returned, the itch that summoned him ever onward.

A soft rain began to fall. Glancing over his shoulder at the castle, Candabraxis realized that without him there to repair it, the protective rune he had drawn would, in time, be slowly washed away.

Let it go, he thought. Somehow, whatever force had steered him here, whatever force had inspired him to protect the castle, had released him from its grip. He could only assume that Grabentod no longer needed such help.