Ready?

Annan thought Mr. Victor's "Are you ready?" meant the same thing Faster had meant.

But the next day, no one woke him, and he saw no crowd at his door. He felt relieved, if a little disappointed: people associated him with both Victor and Faster, and no fool wanted to snatch prey from their jaws.

No one even came bearing gifts to make his acquaintance.

Annan felt the dozen or so copper coins in his pocket and wondered how many other Sorcerers were as poor as he was. Then he went to the Library.

When Lindy arrived at the Library, she gave him a cool nod in acknowledgment of his becoming a Sorcerer. Leaving aside Annan's "illicit affair" with her aunt, Mages and Sorcerers had never gotten along.

So Annan decided that "Are you ready?" meant "Are you ready to be a Sorcerer?"

The answer was no.

For Mages, casting a spell meant leaving the ranks of Magic Apprentices behind, because Spell Models were perfectly precise. Once they cast a spell successfully, they could cast it again in their sleep. Sorcerers were different. Their Musing introduced a vast degree of uncertainty. The slightest change could send a spell astray, and Annan was a prime example.

Mages were like precision machines, but building a machine took time. Sorcerers were artisans who could make a finished product with their own two hands.

The bard had told him a story about a Sorcerer the night before. A Mercenary Company with a Sorcerer among its ranks was fighting Demons. The Sorcerer cast Greater Summoning Spell, and the Demon Warlord the warriors had been holding back suddenly vanished. It reappeared inside the Summoning Array among the Sorcerer and the others at the rear: the Mages, Priests, and Rangers.

No one in the Mercenary Company survived.

Annan asked how the story had spread if no one survived. The bard said mysteriously that the wind had carried it.

Now that Wood no longer had to endure Annan's constant demands, he was gradually growing less weak, though animal blood made for a slow recovery.

The next day, still haunted by how Lesser Summoning Spell had turned into Vampire Summoning Spell, Annan wondered if "Are you ready?" meant he would have Wood hanging around for a long time to come.

The bard laughed and told him that was a good thing. The First-Circle Spell Lesser Summoning Spell could usually summon only small monsters like Kobolds and Lizardfolk. A Vampire was at least humanoid, and a magical creature to boot. Apart from being impossible to control as a summon and not being a female Vampire, Wood had virtually no drawbacks.

Wood kept pestering Annan about when he would bring him human blood. Animal blood was like black bread: it kept him alive, but sickness and malnutrition would soon follow. Wood could not even retract his fangs anymore.

Wood claimed that drinking it might help him remember more of his past. Annan had no choice but to ask the stubborn old man again that day, only to be told to wait.

At dusk, Annan brought the news to Wood in the abandoned house. The Vampire looked so forsaken that Annan even felt guilty.

"Victor... that's his name, isn't it? Doesn't he want my blood? I can give him plenty, as long as he brings me human blood... Please..."

Wood's reaction reminded Annan of a saying: I could have borne the darkness if I had never seen the light.

If the Vampire had never smelled human blood, he might have been content with animal blood.

"All right. I'll ask for you again tomorrow."

Annan hurried to the tavern and went down to the cellar with Faster. There, in front of him and Soluman Copperbeard, he cast Lesser Summoning Spell. Mr. Fast had insisted on it: until Annan mastered the spell properly, he was not to cast it without protection.

Before long, Wood slipped out through the tavern's back door with a black cloth over his face.

Wood appeared in the tavern cellar about twice a day. After six such visits, Annan got good news from Mr. Victor: they had the human blood Wood wanted.

It was in the dungeon.

Annan had assumed Mr. Victor would think along the same lines he had: draw blood from ordinary people. He had not expected him to use a criminal's blood.

Not that there was anything wrong with that...

Faster had mocked Annan for being stupid enough to let a Vampire drink his blood. Blood was the source of Vampires' power; with it, they could cast curses and work evil magic at will.

Still, it proved Wood bore him no ill will and knew nothing about it.

The condemned prisoner was one of the bandits who had robbed a passing merchant caravan. He had been caught a few days ago and was due to be executed today.

Punishing a criminal was undoubtedly just. Making use of his blood merely felt a little sinister.

Annan waited outside the dungeon. Soon, a guard brought him a bucket of blood. He hurried to the abandoned house before it could clot, then cast Lesser Summoning Spell rather than waste time looking for Wood.

Wood emerged from a rift in space.

Annan avoided watching Wood feed. All he knew was that when he went back in, the barrel was empty. Wood held it with a faintly tipsy look and slurred, "So that's what real blood tastes like."

"All I know is that drinking dragon blood probably wouldn't end well for you."

"Why?"

"Dragon's Curse... It seems killing a creature that powerful comes at a price."

"Even its blood?" Wood sobered up a little.

"A farmer found a dragon scale, and the next day Dragon Magic destroyed his village," Annan recalled. "That's what the bard said. But I'd guess owning dragon hide or scales is usually fine unless you run into a vindictive Chromatic Dragon... as long as it doesn't find out."

That evening, in the tavern cellar, Annan cast Lesser Summoning Spell once more.

Normally, a Sorcerer as new as Annan was unlikely to summon a relatively high-level magical creature like a Vampire.

Yet he summoned Wood again.

"Sometimes I wonder if I signed a contract with you..." Wood could not help saying.

Before leaving that day, Wood talked with Mr. Fast for a while. The next day, Annan heard some unexpected news: Wood had taken his place as the tavern's new employee.

I helped someone steal my job? Annan wondered. Was this what "Are you ready?" meant?

"You can collect a commission," Mr. Fast said. "Wood earns one silver coin a week. A third of it is yours."

Annan would still receive his usual share from Law Breaks the Sky, too.

Meditating any longer would do no good, so Annan found himself with nothing to do in the evenings.

During that time, Annan showed Mr. Victor the note Tasia had given him, but even the knowledgeable old man could make no sense of it.

If Annan had been a Mage, he would be preparing his second Spell Model by now—

Deciding he had more or less learned his first spell, Annan planned to learn a second.

When Lindy came by that morning, Annan asked her how much Low-Circle Summoning Scrolls cost.

Lindy listed a few offhand: Summon Lightning Lizard, fifty-six gold coins; Call Monster, thirty-nine; and Summon Skeleton was cheaper, at just twenty-three.

Annan finally understood what Mr. Victor had meant by "Are you ready?" Was he ready for the expense of being a spellcaster?

While he was still at a loss over the money, an invitation was delivered to him.