Zorian shook his head. He was never very religious — the gods had been silent for centuries, and as far as Zorian was concerned that meant they either killed each other off or abandoned their creations to fend for themselves. Hell, listening to some of the stories from the age of gods, he couldn’t help but think humanity was better off without them — they had a disturbing tendency to throw around plagues and curse entire cities on the flimsiest of pretexts. He didn’t think it was a coincidence that humanity only started to advance, both socially and technologically,
«Bad experiences,» he simply said, not wanting to discuss that topic any further.
«Ah,» Haslush said, content with his answer. «That’s okay, you can order some fruit juice or something. Hell, I can even show you a spell I use when I’m on duty but don’t want to offend people by refusing an offered drink.»
Now that sounded useful! Zorian looked at Haslush and the man correctly interpreted that as permission to go on.
«It’s a neat little alteration spell that converts alcohol into sugar,» Haslush said, raising his right hand to show a plain metal ring on his middle finger. «I have it imprinted into this ring so I don’t have to visibly cast it — visibly casting a spell on your drink is often resented even more than outright refusing it, believe it or not. The moment I touch the glass the deed is done.»
«Convenient,» Zorian said appreciatively. That spell would have saved him so much trouble over the years. «But I thought organic matter cannot be restructured through alteration spells?»
«Usually not, but that’s because most of them are impossibly complex and poorly understood, not because organic compounds are somehow impossible to replicate,» Haslush said, studying various tavern signs as they walked. Apparently he wasn’t merely looking for the closest one. «Both ethanol and glucose are fairly simple molecules, and quite well understood, so there is no difficulty in converting one into the other.» He suddenly stopped in front of a nearby sign, studying it for a moment before turning to face Zorian again. «I think this is a nice place. What do you think?»
Zorian’s experiences with taverns were very limited and generally unpleasant, so he simply gestured Haslush to go in before following after him.
It wasn’t as bad as Zorian had feared: the insides of the tavern were dark and the air was a bit stale, but the tables were clean and the noise was manageable. Haslush picked an out of the way table in the corner and cast a long, complicated spell on it after they both ordered a drink. Probably a privacy ward of some kind.
Zorian expected the man to start interrogating him the moment the spell snapped into place, but it didn’t play out like that. If Haslush was interrogating him, he was doing it too subtly for Zorian to notice. Hell, the man didn’t even ask him about Daimen, which was always nice. Gradually, Zorian began to relax and started asking questions of his own. Questions like ‘how come a detective has time and inclination to tutor a third year student in divination magic’?
«Hah,» snorted Haslush. «A good question. Usually something like this would be the last thing on my mind, but yesterday my commander dumped a really silly case on my lap. Apparently there is a rumor circulating around the city about mentalist spiders lurking in the sewers, and I’m supposed to check it out.» He rolled his eyes with a sigh. «Mentalist spiders, honestly…» he mumbled.
Zorian struggled not to let his surprise show and somehow succeeded — largely because Haslush was paying more attention to his drink than to him at the moment. He started a rumor without even realizing it? He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised, since he had told Taiven about the spiders right in front of Imaya and his sister — between Taiven and those two, they probably blathered about it to a dozen people
«Anyway, after work I went to meet with my good friend Ilsa so we could complain about our problems to each other over a drink or two, when she told me she was having problems finding a divination tutor for you. And at that point I realized I have a perfect solution for my problem. I could pawn off the case to some other poor schmuck, help a friend in need, and settle a long-standing argument between me and my commander in one fell swoop. See, a couple of years ago the bureaucrats in Eldemar decided to launch an initiative for getting more mages interested in a career in law enforcement. Only, instead of doing something concrete to attract new talent they asked mages already working inside the police force to go introduce the profession to mages in training on their own initiative.»
«Ah,» said Zorian. «So you’re supposed to do things like this anyway?»