Jack hurried over and worked the spell that rendered magical emanations and auras visible to him. As he expected, a five-foot-tall section of wall about two feet in width glowed with the unmistakable stigma of an enchantment. "Good work, Tharzon."
"Is it covered by some kind of illusion?"
"I'll see," said Jack. He frowned and worked the spell that undid other magics, muttering the words and making the gestures he'd learned to shape the spell. He concentrated on the door's ensorcelment and sharpened his will into a white-hot blade, seeking to sunder Iphegor's concealing spell, but Jack's spell of negation failed, unable to pierce Iphegor's handiwork. "That is not fortuitous," he murmured.
"You can't undo the spell?"
"No, Iphegor appears to be too strong for me, but I have other ways of opening recalcitrant doors, including some that don't try my strength directly against the wizard's."
Jack licked his lips and tried again. This time he simply worked a spell of opening that was designed to bypass Iphegor's defenses, not overwhelm them. Green chaos swirled and danced around his hand, soft wizard-light twisting into strange shapes and formless energy.
The wall shimmered and warped as the secret door swung open, spoiling the illusion. A dark passageway led inwards from the sewer. Jack grinned.
"Not so hard after all," he said. "I shall return in a few minutes, friend Tharzon. Tharzon?" He turned to look for the dwarf.
Tharzon hurried down the sewer away from Jack. "This is where we part ways for now," he called over his shoulder. "If things go poorly inside, it would be advisable for me to be well away from here. I don't need to wait on the appearance of an angry archmage looking for accomplices!"
"Your confidence in my abilities bolsters my courage and steadies my hand," Jack grumbled. "What if I need your help?"
"I'm sure you'll do just fine," Tharzon said. "Farewell!"
Jack sighed and turned back the doorway. He worked spells of dark-seeing and invisibility, then another that would miscue any divinations cast upon him… say, by an angry wizard trying to locate an intruder and call down some horrible doom upon him.
With one hand on his sword hilt, he ducked his head and stepped into the darkness.
The secret passage wound halfway around the cellar, with two right-hand turns before it ended at a strong-looking door covered in dire runes. Working carefully, Jack studied them and disarmed the spells of locking and warning and killing, erasing crucial runes from each without setting off the spells in question. Negating them magically was out of the question; Iphegor was simply more powerful than he was, but even magical traps could be defeated with careful work. It took Jack almost half an hour to get through the secret passageway, but he finally opened the inner door.
He found himself in a small storeroom of alchemical supplies. Shelves full of perfect glassware custom-blown for particular sizes, shapes, or qualities lined the walls.
Jack ignored the glass (although it would certainly be quite valuable to the right buyer) and moved to the opposite door, cracking it open and peering outside.
He looked into a long, low vault lined with doors much like the one he was peeking out of. Wizard-lights burned in greenish globes suspended from sconces on the walls. Weirdly enough, a thick haze or fog hung in the air. It surged and welled to the impulse of air movements too subtle for Jack to sense. At one end of the vault a stone staircase with wide steps and ornate carvings led up into the tower proper. Still invisible, Jack slipped out into the main chamber and ventured glances into each of the rooms that opened out into the vault. Most were workrooms or storerooms, jammed with interesting oddities and arcane reagents. I'll check each in detail if I don't find a library upstairs, he told himself
The last door on the right-hand side was ajar. A voice within mumbled and whispered, sibilant echoes rasping over the cold stone floor.
Jack glided silently to the doorway and gently pushed the door open another handspan, peering inside. A tall man in black robes chased with gold trim stood with his back to the door, intoning a spell from a great, musty spellbook. He held a small vial filled with dark liquid high in one hand, while tracing the words to speak with the index finger of the other. The trappings and accouterments of wizardry surrounded Iphegor, beakers and alembics and retorts bubbling and frothing, strange golden hoops drifting through the air. Malformed things slithered and hopped across the floor, incomplete familiars animated through some vile sorcery to serve at their master's beck and call.
Jack peered at the musty tome from which the wizard incanted. Could that be it? Or was it simply one of Iphegor's own workbooks or references? He decided that he'd leave the wizard to his work for now and search the rest of the tower while Iphegor was occupied. He'd find a way to search the workroom later if he had no luck elsewhere.
Moving softly through the mist, he crept up the stairs. The steps had the look of dwarf-work, just a couple of inches too shallow for Jack's comfort and elaborately carved with images of warriors and dragons. The staircase debouched onto a wide, airy hall marked at one end by a strong double door and a gleam of sunlight beside the jamb. "The main entrance," Jack observed.
He quartered the ground floor and found a small kitchen staffed by two strange, pale serving women toiling monotonously with Iphegor's pots and pans in utter silence. A small roast was sizzling over the fire, red and cool, just spitted. Good, Jack thought. That won't be done for two or three hours, so Iphegor isn't planning on dinner anytime soon. The rest of the floor held a dining hall, a sitting room with sparse furnishings, and a large pantry whose contents seemed unremarkable. Jack continued up the stairs to the next floor.
Here he found what seemed to pass for Iphegor's personal chambers. A large trophy room filled with all manner of dead things and a curio room dominated by a ticking orrery of bronze and iron made up one side of the second floor; the wizard's private rooms made up the other side. Jack searched both leisurely, pocketing a few items that caught his interest-a silver urn filled with incense, a funereal mask of gold inlaid with lapis lazuli, and a small statuette of a whitish metal carved disturbingly in the shape of a monstrous being with tentacles and wings. The wizard's personal chambers seemed comfortable enough if tastelessly furnished with gilt couches and decadent arrases.
The stairs climbed one final time to a conjuring chamber or astrolabe ringed by a series of deep alcoves. Each antechamber contained several bookshelves, and these were filled to overflowing by a vast collection of books, tomes, scrolls, and tablets, gathered together in an untidy clutter.
"Ah-ha," said Jack. "This is more like it. Now, where did he put it?"
"Here now," squeaked a high, rasping voice. "Who are you?"
Jack paused in midstep, looking around in near panic. No one else seemed to be present. "Never mind," he said, and advanced farther into the room.
"Does Iphegor know you're here?" Again the piping high voice.
"Of course," Jack replied, now seriously alarmed. He carefully scrutinized every corner of the room, searching for the other presence. "I am a mere disembodied voice conjured by his hand. I have no objective existence beyond his passing whim."
"Ha!" said the voice. "I think you are a thief hiding behind a spell of invisibility. Oh, won't you be sorry when Iphegor learns you are here!"
Jack swung his head from left to right, following the voice with his ear. It seemed to be coming from the high corner of a bookshelf… there! A small dark mouse perched between two heavy tomes, was studying him with beady eyes!