White and Black

"I don't care how many excuses you make, Mister Collins. If you wish to continue to call on us for assistance, then the Guild must uphold their end of the agreement and deliver the dumps on schedule!" exclaimed Aldrich, nearly spilling his glass of wine.

The Supreme Wizard, the Head Chancellor of Necromancy, and the visitors from the Guild had retired to what had previously been the great hall to discuss business over a bottle of Concord. Geoffrey Fisher sat limply on the sofa, still unconscious, next to Stanley Collins who considerately kept him warm by using him as a coat rack.

"Listen," Ivy Morphan purred, cutting Collins off before he could reply, "The Guild is composed of two types of members, childish technicians and people like me. The technicians' childishness makes them creative, and it makes them easily distracted. If you want them to construct anything of value to you, you'll have to content yourself with it arriving late. If you want to push the case any further, then the people like me will do our very best to dissuade you."

Aldrich's expression shifted from florid frustration to a terrible cool in moments. Ivy met his dark gaze with her own.

"I would be more careful how I spoke," Aldrich said, each word ringing against the surrounding silence, "I know that a woman of your intelligence would not threaten someone capable of killing at any time over any distance. However, a less informed man might have misunderstood."

Ivy allowed a smile to spread across her face which sucked out what little warmth had been there.

"I am glad to do business with such an understanding man. It is so important to avoid insulting company, particularly when you are speaking to an assassin. May I have another glass of wine?"

She held her empty glass out to Archibald without looking away from Aldrich. They might have continued their staring contest indefinitely had Geoffrey not woken suddenly in a panic.

"That was real magic, I mean, it looked a lot like, or rather, what else could it, or... Where am I right now?" he begged, pulling Stanley's jacket off of his lap. Stanley heaved a tired sigh.

"Is this going to become a habit of yours, fainting at every little thing only to rudely demand an explanation from me? It won't do, you know."

"Actually, I should take some responsibility for that," interrupted Aldrich in a voice that sobered the room, "You see, in order to exchange the dumps, Wizard Powell used you to power his spell. I'm sorry that he did not ask your permission first."


"But...I thought he got it from the old dump. I saw it break down when he waved his hands and chanted," Geoffrey insisted.

"Wizards cannot draw life energy from inorganic materials. The dump broke down because it was falling apart to begin with. Someone likely used it at that point and it reached its limit. It is in constant use after all."

Geoffrey's face paled as comprehension struck him. His previous panic returned, ten fold. "HE SUCKED THE LIFE OUT OF ME! I NEED THAT LIFE!"

Archibald, who had listened with quiet intensity to the entire conversation, opened his mouth for the first time since Aldrich had returned with Geoffrey's body.

"Mister Fisher, I apologize that my wizard used your energy without your consent. I will speak with him and make sure that in the future, all parties to a spell are well informed. However, do not think of life energy as a permanent part of yourself. Bodies gain and lose life energy constantly. Every action we take displaces life from us and into something else, and is in that sense primitive wizardry. I hope you can forgive my wizard's inconsiderate behavior."

Geoffrey hesitated briefly, then nodded to Archibald and relaxed back into his seat. Shortly afterwards, the meeting ended with the Guild promising to try and deliver their machines on time, a statement as empty as Ivy's wine glass. As soon as they had departed, Aldrich turned to Archibald.

"You lied to him." Frost fringed Aldrich's words.

Archibald snorted. "Would you have wanted him to know the truth? He was scared and angry, and we were in a position to gain or lose privileges with the Guild. It was best for us, and it comforted him. Besides, you know as well as I that for our department to carryout its orders, certain aspects of our lives must remain a secret. The precise workings of magic are for practitioners to know and the rest of the world to never discover."

"I don't like it," Aldrich sulked.

"Dislike it to your heart's content as long as you do your job. If you keep your mouth shut, you needn't lie."

Archibald retired to his study while Aldrich wandered the castle, restless. After half an hour, he found himself in one of the castle's numerous towers. Recently fallen night seeped through the window, which Aldrich approached wearily.

"A man in black robes in a black tower under a black sky...I'm just the innermost layer of a set of nesting dolls, and that white liar is going to keep me inside." He sighed, resigned. "It'll all be worth it eventually."