Title: I Mage

 

Istry stares at Yansis’ well adorned steaming cup and back at her own, plain and cold, frowning.

“What’s wrong?” her friend asks.

“My parents have me on a Power allowance. Something about responsibility.”

Yansis shrugs. “Just do a couple of consult gigs. There are always Power Stealers around wanting tips from genuine Dynasty Power Mages.”

She raises an eyebrow. “I’m sure Power Stealers are capable of being just as suave and charming as the con-artists in movies. But they’re also very capable of bashing someone’s head in.”

“I’ve done it loads. It’s harmless. There’s an understanding: they’ve been getting people here at the uni to do consults for them for centuries. It’s easy Power. Or you can just stay broke.”

Istry huffs. “Fine. What do I have to do?”

*
 

Istry stands with her hand poised over the client’s doorbell. This is the last chance to turn back. She swallows, and presses it.

A woman about her age answers, it occurs to her that this image itself may be a lie; though there’s no sign of it. She does have golden hair seemingly magic-spun into a perfect do, Istry can find no fakery there either- even though it has to be fake.

“I’m Galenc,” the woman says. It’s a good name to go by, it might be a name of someone from Ancient Power, but it also might not be.

“I’m Istry.”

Galenc beckons her inside and she follows. “Would you be happy with three orbs for your services?”

Yansis had told her to settle for no less than two. And she’d rather not argue. “That’s fine.”

The woman gestures to their surroundings. “What do you think?”    

The place isn’t what she’s expecting. There’s nothing that springs out as obviously wrong. Even the Ancient third age rug has the correct variety of old magic wafting from it. Istry wants to say it’s perfect. But that’s probably not worth three orbs, and she’s starting to doubt her ability to do this. It suddenly feels much harder than she had assumed.  In the end she settles on,

“It’s good. But I need a closer look.”

“Of course. Take your time. Just to let you know, I’m trying to get out of the Power Stealer life. So I need something long-lasting.”

Istry narrows her eyes. “I’m not going to fall for a sob story and become a mark.”

Galenc laughs. “I only mention it to clarify what I need from you. This illusion needs to maintain for more than a few weeks or months.”

Istry swallows. “Maybe you should have someone check again in a few weeks, just to make sure.”

“Are you saying you’re not up to the task?”

She should say yes, and leave. But she’s come this far. “It just sounds like a lot of work for only three orbs. I would expect five.”

Galenc levels her with a piercing stare. Great, now she’s trying to kid a kidder. She’s definitely going to get her head bashed in. Istry forces herself to meet the other’s gaze, doesn’t swallow or bite her lip or tremble.

And she’s given a small smile. “Very well. Five it is.”

Istry walks around the room, picking up the smaller items, looking closely at the texture and the sound and the magic. To her dismay she can’t find a single thing that needs correcting. In the end, stopping her shoulders from slumping, she admits,

“It’s perfect.”

Galenc smirks. “I know.”

She blinks, startling. “What?”

“This plan has been years in the making. You are not the first Mage I’ve had check this place. You’re not even the tenth. I simply needed a final check by a Mage from the Ancient Dynasty Power, and you guys are a little harder to come by than your average Dynasty Power Mage. One out of her depth is better than nothing.”

“Oh.” Of course her lying had been obvious. Istry starts to shake.

“Worry not!” Galenc says, handing over five Power orbs as agreed.

Istry clutches them close and strides out quickly. She’ll spend these carefully: she definitely doesn’t want to do that again.