Winter Witch by Elaine Cunningham Page B

yes.
    Declan cast a quick glance over his shoulder before he realized the futility of such precautions. If he hadn’t sensed the presence of this “bad person” over the course of several days, he doubted he’d have better success going forward. Whoever the stalker might be, most likely he possessed a command of magic far beyond what Declan had mastered at the Theumanexus.
    He didn’t see the benefit of magic that could turn a pile of drawings into a single animated page, but apparently its novelty gave it value. If Jamang’s reaction was typical of his peers, competition to own the animated books and decipher the spell would be fierce. Apart from its current impact on his safety, Declan frankly didn’t care about the book magic. In fact, the sooner someone decoded the spell and claimed authorship, the sooner his part in this nonsense would be forgotten.
    On the other hand, he did care about this unknown stalker. Jamang claimed he had others books like the one Declan had left on the observatory roof. Since Declan had made only three such books, Jamang’s wording suggested that he possessed the other two. If the stalker Skywing had followed killed Jamang, most likely the killer now had those books in his possession. Assuming the killer was a wizard of some sort and could figure out the magic on his own, Declan had no reason for concern.
    That was unless the books’ new owner decided to eliminate anyone who might otherwise lay claim to the spell.
    The thought prompted Declan to pick up the pace. He trotted the gray stallion down the quiet streets. Along the way he rode past two patrols of the city watch and several members of the Sable Guard. All of them noted the little dragon perched on his saddle and let him pass unhindered. Skywing was a useful companion in more ways than one.
    Soon the gate to the Theumanexus loomed up ahead, a massive barrier of intricately wrought iron. A fence of similar design surrounded the estate upon which the university had been built. The iron, as Declan understood it, was intended to hold back the fey. Apparently the gnome who’d built the gate had made some enemies in the First World. It was a story Declan hoped to hear someday. At present, however, he was more concerned with the gate’s ability to keep him out.
    Declan dismounted and gave the bell pull a few vigorous tugs. The bell itself hung in a window of a tiny stone building just beyond the fence. The guard stumbled out, scowling and scratching sleepily at the stubble on his chin. His expression became considerably more respectful when he noted the drake on Declan’s saddle.
    “Master Avari,” he said respectfully. “So you became a wizard after all! No surprise to me. I never thought you were as hopeless as the professors claimed, never once.” He grimaced and raised one hand to his bald pate. “Except maybe for the time you accidently set my hair afire, but no lasting harm done, eh? Even the All-Seeing Eye of Nethys would overlook a passing doubt now and then.”
    “Of the two of us, I’d say you have more cause to remember that unfortunate incident,” Declan said with a rueful smile. “If you’d be so kind, I have business with one of the professors.”
    “At this hour?” The guard huffed incredulously. “They’re long asleep.”
    “Including Paddermont Grinji?”
    “Well, no,” the guard allowed. “Probably not him.” He tipped back his head and sniffed the air like a hunting hound. “Ambergris and sulfur. Oh yes, he’s still at work.”
    He swung open the gate and took the stallion’s reins. Declan had a brief and silent exchange with Skywing, who grudgingly agreed to stay with the horse.
    Declan hurried past the manor house that was the main building of the Theumanexus and made his way to Geezlebottle Hall.
    The building resembled a large tree stump out of which grew many large and bizarrely shaped mushrooms. Its rambling walls had been shingled haphazardly with dark wood. Oddly shaped turrets rose