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The Manse of Mirrors – Extract

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The Manse of Mirrors

Nick Horth

I don’t do break-in jobs, as a rule. The crucial thing about my line of work is that it involves searching for items of incalculable value and historical significance. Relics of a lost age, the sole remaining cultural evidence of civilisations ground down by time and damned by the gods. It is one of the immutable laws of existence that such precious things tend to fall into the hands of the realms’ very worst people.

So I remain unsure as to the exact reason I agreed to break into the manse of Phylebius Crade, noted master of amethyst magic, former high thaumaturge of the free city of Lethis, and by all accounts one of the most dangerous men you could ever wish to meet. Fortunately, he’d been dead for something approaching fifty years, so running into him seemed an unlikely prospect.

As usual, Rhodus gave me the hard sell. Over a glass of overpriced Cyphian amber in an overpriced private room of the Silvermoon tavern, he massaged my ego and played upon my desires as only a merchant of the Ivory Circle could. Our meeting place was a fine, if rather gloomy establishment, its walls and chairs fashioned from polished black wood and decorated with all manner of gewgaws: dreamcatchers, rope-charms and brass tintinnabula that tinkled unsettlingly in the breeze. A lamp filled with whale tallow burned softly above our private table, releasing a strange, blue-white glow. The Lethisian aesthetic was not one I particularly admired. It felt as though I were drinking in a gigantic coffin.

Rhodus signalled a cadaverous member of the serving staff to refill my glass, and I made no objection. I never pass up an opportunity for free food or drink. The life of a roaming treasure seeker is one of dramatic highs and frequent, penurious lows, and currently my resources were worryingly meagre. It had not been easy to gain passage to Shyish; at great cost I had booked a berth upon a trade fleet out of Excelsis that had passed through the Lixian Realmgate, carrying vast quantities of augur-stones for the Raven City’s markets. That journey had taken a season and more, and had drained the last of my coin. I was weary and broke. The perfect mark for a rogue like Rhodus.

‘No one’s heard a whisper from the place since the old wretch passed,’ Rhodus was saying. ‘And you must have heard the rumours. By the time Crade died he had gathered himself a hoard of Stygxxian relics, the sort of treasures that would bring in a cog-fort’s worth of Azyrite coin on the shadow market. Now don’t tell me that doesn’t strike your fancy, because I know you better than that, Shevanya Arclis.’

He leaned back on his chair, his legs swinging ridiculously like those of an overeager child.

I took a long, slow drink, trying to mask my interest. It never pays to let someone like Rhodus know he’s got his hooks in you. I had an inexplicable fondness for the odd little man with his gaudy robes and silly little pince-nez, but he was a business associate first and friend a distant second. You don’t get to be a member of the Ivory Circle unless you have the predatory instincts of a wraith-spider. I liked Rhodus Blithe, but I sure as sigmarite didn’t trust him.

‘If that’s true,’ I said at last, ‘I’m sure someone’s already broken in and looted everything of value. It’s been decades, Rhodus.’

‘No!’ the merchant squeaked, shaking his head excitedly. ‘That’s the genius of it! You know what these Lethisians are like, Shevanya, they can’t empty their bowels without reciting half a dozen canticles of obeisance to Morrda. Besides, as far as the common folk are concerned, Crade may as well be Nagash himself. The entire city trembles at the mention of his name. No one goes near his manse, and those who’ve tried…’

I flashed him a look. ‘Go on.’

He twitched a little, and flashed me a slightly sickly smile. ‘Well, there’s no profit without a little risk, is there, my dear? I have it all in hand. I have obtained the services of three most accomplished… ah, retrieval experts. But I require your discerning eye, Shevanya. In return I can promise an equal share of any items that we extricate, as well as fitting compensation for your efforts.’

The offer of coin was welcome, of course – show me a freelancer who doesn’t appreciate a decent payday – but it was the chance to root through Crade’s belongings that really piqued my interest. Of course I’d heard the tales. No one had explored as many of the dangerous wilds of the Land of Forgotten Gods as the former high thaumaturge. Stygxx is a land of mystery, home to the remnants of a thousand lost cultures. A graveyard of history. To someone like yours truly, an archaeologist who specialises in unearthing the bygone secrets of the Age of Myth, it’s unendingly fascinating.

‘I’ll need to meet your crew before we continue,’ I said, before draining my glass. The amber burned pleasantly as it slipped down. ‘We need the best for a job like this. You know how protective wizards get about the things they’ve stolen. And by all accounts Master Crade was something of a prodigy amongst his kind.’

Rhodus couldn’t keep the smirk off his face. He knew he had me, despite my attempts to feign professional disinterest.

‘Of course,’ he said, fairly rubbing his hands together in glee. ‘Believe me, Shevanya, this is the best decision you’ve ever made. We’ll be in, out and away with a fortune in priceless treasures before the week is out!’

As it turned out, Rhodus was wrong about all of that.

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A Black Library Publication

First published in Inferno! Volume 4 in Great Britain in 2019.
This eBook edition published in 2020 by Black Library, Games Workshop Ltd, Willow Road, Nottingham, NG7 2WS, UK.

Produced by Games Workshop in Nottingham.
Cover illustration by Alexander Mokhov.

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ISBN: 978-1-80026-390-1

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