Dead Letter by Benjamin Descovich

my own, I’m not worth an introduction to a
runner.”
    “ Even so, is it not possible you have seen him? He once was of
the Order of Calim so his hands would be blacked out.”
    “ I still wouldn’t know, Mistress. Guilded couriers wear
gloves. I’ll let you know if I spot a man such as you describe.
Though, you would do better to enquire with the Postmaster across
from the Salt Road Stables.”
    “ Of course, gloves.” The sorceress looked lost. Her eyes had a
sad emptiness, the same look he saw in his mother’s eyes. “My
questions must seem odd.”
    “ That’s not for me to say.” Elrin bowed again, feeling
uncomfortable. “Is there anything else I can help with?”
    “ No. That is all.” The sorceress pulled a silver tab from her
purse and offered it to Elrin.
    Elrin’s
eyes widened. “I can’t accept that, Mistress. You offer too much,
for I haven’t done anything of value.”
    The
woman pushed it into his palm. Her tattooed fingers folded his own
around the silver piece. Her touch made his digits buzz and when he
went to open his hand to refuse the money again, he found his
fingers locked tight around the gift. “Consider it an advance for
bringing me any information. Anything at all.”
    “ Thank you, Mistress.”
    Two
untouched plates of delicious food lay before the unoccupied seats
of the two other mages Rimple had spoken about. The loaded meals
made Elrin swallow in hunger. Rimple must have been basting Cook
with compliments for reasons of his own.
    “ Did your companions not like their dinner?” asked Elrin.
“Have they retired already? If it wasn’t to their taste, I can
organise an alternative and get Chelle to take it to their
rooms.”
    “ That won’t be necessary,” said the blue robed mage, piercing
him with eyes of acid. “They have retired for evening meditations.
We shall take up their meals. They are always ravenous afterwards.
Now leave us. Return to your labour .”
    Elrin
did as she said, bowing and nodding his thanks to the kind
sorceress in green. He was able to open his fingers on the way back
to slip the silver tab into his purse, never fearing it wouldn’t
fit. It was very roomy in there. He took to the dishes with renewed
determination, thankful for the simple task the sorceress had set
and the pay he had pocketed. Cook gave him a wink and spent the
rest of the evening joking about his new-found magical love
whenever Chelle delivered a batch of dirty plates. To Elrin’s
delight, she placed them on the bench as he had asked and offered a
whole copper if he’d tell her what the sorceresses were up
to.
    Elrin
had nothing to hide, but he’d been paid to help, not make money
from gossip. “Tell you what, Chelle. You keep that copper and I’ll
pay you the same if you or any of the girls hear tell of a courier
called Rix. You’ve got a better chance than I do. He’s got mage
tattoos marred on his hands.”
    Chelle
shook her finger at Elrin. “Why should I bother taking such
information to you? What say I go straight to them if I find out
about this fella?”
    “ I don’t mind. As long as the information helps her find the
man then all is well, isn’t it?”
    “ You’re too soft. Why care for them? For certain, their lofty
selves don’t care for us.”
    “ She’s lost someone. If I can help her find him then more the
better. If you’d lost someone close to you, wouldn’t you do
anything to get them back?”
    “ Oh, I see. This about your old lost pa again is
it?”
    “ Pound salt, Chelle. What if it is?”
    “ When is it not, I suppose?”
    “ Sod off, let the man work!” called Cook, as he tossed a stale
bread roll in her direction. Unfortunately, it missed and Chelle
sauntered away, smiling. Elrin imagined she kept a tally of how
many times she had got a rise from him. He guessed it was quite a
number.
    Dwelling
on the cruelties dealt by the sweet lips of Chelle was a waste of
his energy. He thought instead of the kind mage and the silver
blessing