Free The Witch's Daughter (Lamb & Castle Book 1) by J.M. Sanford Page A

it.”
    But the Archmage was lost to the world, completely absorbed in his arcane calculations. “Perhaps… Perhaps…”
    The prince leaned closer, peering curiously at the scrolls. Naturally intelligent, extensively educated, Archalthus nevertheless had little patience for written magic, and it galled him that he might as well have been an illiterate farmhand, for all he could understand of the page before him. “Well then, what of the Crown?” he asked impatiently.
    The Archmage jumped, as if he had completely forgotten he was not alone. “Ah… yes, the Crown… I insist that such things simply cannot be duplicated. The ancient and noble magicks –”
    The Commander sneered at this, showing monstrous sharp teeth. “Bet you could do it if you really wanted to,” he muttered.
    “That’s not so!” shouted the Archmage, whose hearing remained exceptionally good for his age. “I’m greatly overburdened: no other Mage in all the world could carry out such works,” he swept a shaking hand across the vast expanse of parchment, almost knocking it all to the floor in his outrage, “And on top of that, I’m expected to duplicate an entirely unique artefact that I’ve never even seen, find a way to break a powerful curse even older than myself, create and maintain golems… Much of the work you ask me to do is quite, quite illegal, Archalthus, and if I were to be caught…” He sank back into his chair, shaking with the exertion of his outburst.
    Archalthus sighed wearily. “Commander, if you insist on making such insolent comments, I shall have you executed and turn your carcass over to Archmage Morel for spare parts. Do I make myself understood?”
    “Yes, Master.” The Commander had spent long enough years in the service of Prince Archalthus to know the threat had been no exaggeration.
    Archalthus turned and raised one perfect eyebrow at the old Archmage. “And unless I’m very much mistaken, Archmage Morel, you were engaging in soul magic and other illegal disciplines long before I hired you. You may leave my City at any time, but in doing so you would lose my protection and risk falling foul of the Mage Council. We shall concentrate on this project for the time being, I think,” he said, straightening the schematic he had been trying to read. The design seemed to contain an awful lot of circles. Archalthus couldn’t be sure if this was part of the nature of the magic being used, or just the old Archmage’s fancy, and couldn’t think of a way to question it without appearing ignorant. “This is indeed a most intricate design,” he murmured, hoping that he sounded pensive. The Archmage didn’t reply, too concerned with the thought of facing the Mage Council alone.
    On the other side of the room, the Commander had pulled out a device like a pocket watch, and spoke into it, “What do you want? I’m with His Highness.”
    The voice that replied from the device carried clearly in the quiet study. “Our apologies for interrupting, Commander Breaker, but we recently discovered the whereabouts of the White Queen.”
    Archalthus left his desk at once, stalking across the room to peer into the device. An expressionless face with black eyes looked back at him.
    “She is travelling with the snail mistress and a gentleman wearing impractical-looking armour,” said the black-eyed gentleman. “They recently passed through a place called Lannersmeet. However…” His bland face began to show a hint of discomfort. Embarrassment, perhaps: he hadn’t considered how best to report that he and his partner had managed to lose the cumbersome and incongruous snailcastletank. “We were slow to confirm the identity of the White Queen, and we were unsure how to proceed from here.”
    “Excuse me,” Archalthus took the device from the Commander. “Unsure on what point?”
    “There is a crossroads at Lannersmeet. The White Queen and her cohort left unexpectedly while we were otherwise occupied. Nevertheless, we have