Free The Flight of the Griffin by C.M. Gray Page A

painting his face with an orange glow. He added another pinch of powder from a bag, and smoke billowed up, filling the room and stinging his eyes, but he was past the point of caring. The spell he was casting was a seeing spell and it wasn’t working. He was searching for the boat that housed his quarry, yet time and time again it was proving to be unsuccessful. His patience was growing thin as he watched visions change in the coals through red-rimmed eyes. He’d been doing this for several turns of the glass and was becoming extremely fatigued, but still he pushed on. Constantly the visions moved from boat to boat, as scene after scene was shown to him, yet nothing appeared that was remotely like the boat he had entered in the port.
    At last he could take it no more. Turning from the brazier he stood and stretched. Clenching and cracking his knuckles, he strode to the window and threw the shutters wide. Smoke billowed out allowing light and air to flood back into the room. Breathing deeply, Matheus stood staring down into the street. Knowing his tactics would have to change he contemplated his options. This was no ordinary matter of tracking down some common thief or fugitive. Magic was involved here, potent magic, and if Matheus had come to enjoy one thing beyond all else, it was his magical skills. The chance that he could acquire new knowledge was even more tempting than any reward the fat merchant could put in front of him.
    There was a powerful spell that Matheus had used only twice before and was hesitant in using again, but he was considering it now. To request the aid of demon kind was fraught with peril. Matheus knew he was a powerful magician, but was also aware of his limitations and knew even he would have problems controlling a demon, but if an agreement of some sort could be made …
    After eating a sparse meal of raw vegetables and cold rice, he spent the afternoon in meditation. By nightfall he was decided, ready and prepared.
    The brazier was re-lit and several clay bowls of carefully prepared herbs and powders set to the side. Placing the brazier in the centre of the floor, he then spent some time and care, drawing a series of complex patterns and designs around it. While he worked, his mind went back to the sessions with the one he had called ‘the magic man’. The crippled magician, desperate for medical aid, food and water, had begged Matheus for help, but had received only the bare minimum necessary to keep him alive; alive enough for Matheus to extract the information he craved. He’d written these scraps of knowledge down on small blocks of parchment and he was now studying them while scratching his charcoal stick on the floor, sending whirls and spirals off to the four corners of the room.
    Energy began crackling along the charcoal lines changing from intense blue, the colour of Order, to a dark crimson red, the colour of Chaos. Matheus was sweating freely in the stuffy atmosphere, yet he pulled the hood of his cape over his head, to better concentrate on the complex rituals of the incantation ahead. He had read and re-read the passages necessary several times over, and felt confident in his ability to perform the task. Yet, he remained uncertain of what direction to take once the task was complete; that of calling the demon into this realm.
    Much would depend upon careful negotiation to see if he could persuade the demon to do what he wanted. If all else failed, he had set call-back spells at various stages of the pattern and was confident he could return the demon should anything go wrong.
    Still, it was with some measure of uncertainty that Matheus finally took his position, sitting cross-legged in front of the brazier. Drawing several deep breaths, he commenced a deep rhythmic chant. As the brazier smouldered, he dropped different herbs and mixtures onto the glowing coals, repeating this at odd intervals. Around him shadows and lights danced upon the walls, smoke moved in patterns through the