Free Enchanter (Book 7) by Terry Mancour Page B

grinned, madly.
     
    *
    That evening was a special reception by the Guild of Enchanters in their ramshackle hall.  It was the social event that was open to all, from the lowliest apprentice and footwizard to . . . well, me.  The “guild” was actually more of a rooming house with delusions of grandeur, but the magi who lived and worked there, mostly pursuing their individual areas of study or vocation, had managed to cultivate enough of a sense of institution about the place to give it a kind of mystique among the magi. 
    Visitors to the compound from outside of Sevendor were too impressed by its proximity to the snowstone mountain in the south and the elegant Alkan tower to the north that they overlooked its shabby nature.  Next to the stately spire of the Arcane Orders chapterhouse and the elegant lines of the Remeran-styled Order of the Secret Tower mansion, the Guild looked delightfully quaint. 
    To the magi who lived in Sevendor, the Guild was a symbol of independence from both the Arcane Orders’ structure and the other institutions of magic that had evolved in the last few years.  Regardless of how poor you were, a mage could get a spot on the floor of their hall and a seat at their table for the price of a few hours of work.  There was an open library available for study, meager compared to mine but with most of the basic magical texts and some interesting additions donated by members.  There was even an enchantment laboratory, of sorts, where the poorly-funded could get access to equipment and resources to pursue independent research.
    Over the last two years six magi had become the core of the Guild, the Fellows.  I learned that their mutual agreement pledged forty percent of their revenues from practicing magic to the Guild, in exchange for room, board, and a small monthly stipend.  As most of the research they were doing was fairly basic, the stipend was usually enough to cover their expenses.
    Still, it’s hard to make ends meet, especially in Sevendor.  They had been teetering on the edge of bankruptcy and dissolution for a year when Rael the Enchantress, fresh from her stint on the Kasari March through the Wilderlands, took up residence there.  Things had changed quickly since then.
    Rael was the eldest daughter of Master Andalnam, a licensed spellmonger and competent enchanter from Sendaria Port I had commissioned many, many pieces from in the last few years.  When she had gotten her credentials as a journeywoman, and received a witchstone from me, she relocated to Sevendor permanently.  She was paid handsomely for her service to me during the march, and the specimens she collected along the way helped established new sources for certain commodities enchanters found useful for their works.  I knew she had been in long discussions with Banamor over supplying certain items to his shop.  She was crafting and selling things for her father’s booth at the fair, too.
    But Rael had aspirations beyond mere commerce, and they involved the Enchanters’ Guild.  Using her newfound wealth she had purchased a Fellowship, taken rooms at the guildhouse and invested in the place in ways no one else had.  This year’s fete was by far the most generous and well-planned, and there was a real air of establishment about the hall when Alya and I arrived.
    Rael was greeting guests at the door with two of her fellow guild members, each of them bearing a red sash with the guild’s badge embroidered upon it in white: an alembic surrounded by three mage stars. 
    Rael was looking splendid – she’s not an unattractive girl, and she wore a richly-made sideless surcoat in scarlet over a new muslin gown.  She eschewed a wimple, as most of the town women wore, in favor of a new four-pointed cap in red, with the three white points sewn to it.  She wore her witchstone set in a simple snowstone disc as a pendant around her neck. 
    Her father wasn’t as pleased with Rael’s rise in fortunes, however.  I found the