Reaching out, he rudely swiped up yet more of the sliced lamb and stuffed about three bites' worth into his mouth all at once. Chewing hurriedly, he washed it down with another glass of goat's milk. After wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he turned to look greedily at Tristan's wine goblet.
"Give me some of that, and I'll gladly tell you who I am," he said confidently. "It seems the least you could do. I didn't ask to come here, you know."
With a brief snort, Faegan smiled and shook his head. But it was clear that the lead wizard didn't think any of this was particularly humorous.
Knowing that Marcus was still hungry, Wigg called on the craft. Almost immediately all of Marcus' precious food and drink rose into the air. The young man's eyes went wide. Then Wigg caused all of the dishes to go flying out the kitchen door and into the adjoining hallway. Without taking his eyes from Marcus, Wigg folded his arms across his chest and calmly leaned back in his chair. With that, everything fell crashing to the hallway floor-the dishes smashed, the food ruined, and the drinks spilled.
Frozen in place, Marcus stared at Wigg as if the wizard had just descended from one of the moons. Leaning in, Wigg cast his aquamarine eyes sternly at the young man and lowered his voice.
"Now that I have your full attention, let's try again, shall we?" he asked quietly. "What is the name of your family house?"
Lowering his face slightly, Marcus scowled and placed his greasy hands on his lap. "Stinton," he finally answered. "The House of Stinton."
"And where are you from?"
"Ilendium."
Wigg raised an eyebrow. "And the girl you travel with. She's your sister, is she not?"
Marcus nodded. "Rebecca." He added softly, "I call her 'Becca."
"I see," Wigg said a bit more compassionately. "And your parents. What of them? They must be worried about you."
"They're both dead. Killed by the great birds that came one night. 'Becca and I are orphans."
On hearing about the "great birds," Wigg looked at Tristan and Faegan. They nodded back. Marcus had to be referring to Nicholas' hatchlings, the winged beings that had so ruthlessly destroyed the city of Ilendium just before the construction of the Gates of Dawn.
"I'm sorry," Faegan said softly from the other side of the table. He was beginning to have genuine admiration for the brash young man, even if the boy was a thief. Master Stinton was nothing if not resourceful, he decided.
"How was it that the two of you were not also killed?" Faegan asked.
" 'Becca and I had gone fishing at the head of the Sippora River. We used to like to do that sometimes. And it was helpful, especially when father wasn't doing so well. But the fishing had been good, and we were very late getting home that night. By the time we did, everything was gone."
"I'm sorry, too," Wigg said earnestly. "But what did you mean about your father not doing so well? What was his trade?"
Marcus smiled again and puffed out his chest with pride. "My father was a pickpocket-the best in Eutracia. He could slip one hand into your drawers and come back out holding your private parts if he chose to, long before you felt the draft. And I'm just as good, if I do say so myself."
Sighing, Wigg placed one hand over his forehead, closed his eyes, and leaned his elbow on the table. He shook his head slowly.
Tristan tried hard not to smile.
"And where did you get the scroll?" Wigg asked without looking up.
"We found them in one of the broken marble sections, left over from the destruction when those monuments, or whatever they were, fell to the ground," Marcus answered simply. It was clear he did not understand the importance of the site he and his sister had visited.
"Everything there stayed so hot, it took a week before 'Becca and I could do a proper search of the place," he went on. "We were on our own by then, and looking for food." Then he smiled again. "But that wasn't what we found."
Wigg's face shot up. "You said 'them'. Do you mean to say that both scrolls were there when you first went in?"
"Yes. But they were so heavy I could only take one. And there was no way 'Becca could handle the other, especially with her bad foot. Later I came back for the other scroll, but it was already gone. Somebody beat me to it."
"How did you get the scroll to Tammerland?" Tristan asked.
"In the rowboat we always used to fish out of. It was my father's. On the way down the Sippora we fished, so as to eat. Kept us alive."
"And was it always your intention to sell the scroll?" Tristan asked, his admiration for Marcus also growing.
"Of course. What would I want to keep the damned thing for?"
Tristan smiled. "And how did you find the artifacts dealer?"
"I asked around. It wasn't hard. I had an appointment with him today, to finally exchange the scroll for the kisa. He was the only one I trusted. But he won't be doing any more business, will he? From that point on, you know the rest." Then Marcus' face darkened. "I'm sorry about your horse," he added.
"Thank you," Tristan replied. "So am I."
Wigg had apparently heard all he needed. He stood and walked over to one side of the kitchens, to give a tug on a velvet pull cord. In a few moments, a Minion warrior appeared.
"Take this young man to the princess' quarters so that he may rejoin his sister," Wigg ordered. "See to it that he is cleaned up and given some decent clothes. I want one of you to keep an eye on him and his sister at all times. They seem to have an unusually high predilection for larceny."
The warrior clicked his heels together. "As you wish."
Wide-eyed at his first glimpse of a Minion, Marcus was slow to rise from the table. Before leaving, he turned around and looked back at Wigg.
"I'll make a deal with you," he said.
Sighing, Wigg shook his head again. "I am the lead wizard of the Directorate," he answered. "And I am not in the habit of dealing with pickpockets. Especially young ones."
"Can you cure 'Becca's clubfoot?" Marcus asked. "For as long as I can remember, it has been her dream to come into your Chamber of Supplication and request an audience for your help. If you cure her, I'll even let you keep the bags of kisa."
"As I remember, you no longer have the money," Wigg answered. "It rests with us now. But leave it to you to bargain with something you don't have. However, I did notice Rebecca's foot. If it is within our powers to help, we will. But right now I want you to go, Marcus. We have urgent business to attend to." Wigg then nodded to the Minion, and Marcus was escorted from the room.
"I'm assuming our urgent business is now with Grizelda," Faegan said.
"Indeed," Wigg answered. "And it should prove most interesting."
The three of them stood from the table and headed for the Redoubt.
O n the way Tristan requested that they go by the Great Hall, the room into which Faegan's warp and Krassus' destructive beams of light had been tossed. He was very curious about how much damage had been done. As they approached the room and walked in, the sight before them was disheartening, to say the least.
Krassus' powerful light shards had caused the walls to crack and tumble in many places, and the ceiling was torn by a number of great, ragged holes through which the encroaching night sky could be seen. Glass, dust, and smashed furniture lay everywhere. A work party of male and female Minions was already going about the business of trying to return the room to its former glory, but that would take time, Tristan realized, if it ever came about at all.