The Gods it seemed had a sense of humor. Emmaline opened her mouth to say that she was just leaving and why didn’t they catch up later but the Jade pulled up a chair without waiting for approval. Jacynde was a striking woman, if not exactly a beautiful one, she claimed to be the daughter of a Cathayan princess, though Emmaline knew that her moon shaped face and canted eyes were the result of the dalliance of a Wissenland timber merchant and Araybian sailor. She was a moderate talent, though far more disciplined than Emmaline not that competition was fierce in that field. Jacynde was also a terrible gossip, which was really the characteristic that most concerned Emmaline at the moment.

“I was just…” Emmaline began.

“I heard that Master Blackwood accused you of stealing an artifact from the Jade College but was humiliated when he couldn’t find any proof,” Jas launched in, plucking a grape from Emmaline’s place and popping it into her mouth. It took Emmaline a moment to even remember what she was talking about, which was a testament to just how much had happened in the day or so.

“Oh you know how it is, anything happens and people blame Master Albrecht,” Emmaline replied airily, trying to find some way of tactfully sending the other mage on her way.

“Well he did make those mystical copies of those Rodal painting and try to pass them off as originals,” Jas pointed out.

“Yes but…”

“And didn’t he convince the Baron of Kelhoc to invest in that bogus salt mining operation?”

“He didn’t MAKE him…”

“Also he made those mirrors for the temple of Shyalla that let him scry into their dressing chambers?”

“No one ever proved..”

“And there were those rumors about him swindling the Grand…”

“Yes! My point is this is clearly an overreaction,” Emmaline cut in. Jascynde peered at her as she chewed her grape, arching an eyebrow at her vehemence.

“You and he aren’t…” Jascynde made a rude gesture with her fingers.

“Jas!” Emmaline objected, blushing slightly.

“Oh come on it is just us girls here,” Jas cajoled.  Emmaline, very conscious of Malcador under the table, shook her head.

“Anyway… Blackwood was just rounding up the usual suspects I’m sure,” Emmaline assured her.

“Well Albrecht is over in the Executors office raising holy Heldenhammer about Blackwood accusing you and besmirching his ‘fine’ reputation. Emmaline snickered, doubtless her master had some plan to make a few Gelt of the situation and complain so violently that no one would dare accuse him of anything for months. It was typical of the scheming old wizard and Emmaline couldn’t help but be quietly impressed by his ruthless opportunism.

“What was it that was stolen?” Emmaline asked. Malcador stiffened, doubtlessly wondering what she was doing engaging in conversation while they were in such a compromising position. She squeezed his head slightly between her thighs to still him.

“A torc of some kind, rumor has it that it is from Albion, forged by Druids there during a solar eclipse that lasted an entire day,” Jas eagerly gossiped, she plucked another grape.

“As to what it does… well I don’t think anybody really knows,” she admitted.

“Well…” Emmaline began, then appeared to stop herself from speaking. Jas, an inveterate gossip, leaned in eagerly at the pregnant pause.

“It seems to me that if no one even knows what it does, and the first thing Blackwood does is try to pin its disappearance on someone everyone is already predisposed to mistrust…”

“Are you suggesting Blackwood stole the torc and is trying to pass the blame!?” Jas asked, almost breathless with the scandalous import of that accusation.

“Oh nothing of the sort, it just seems odd,” she confided. Jas nodded so eagerly she nearly gave herself a neck injury.

“Well it was good to see you Emma,” Jas declared, all but leaping from her seat in her eagerness to be off and gossiping. “I will see you around, and maybe run a brush through your hair, you look ridiculous,” she advised before scurrying out of the parlor.

“You can let me up now,” Malcador said from below the table.

“Well if I must,” Emmaline grinned, finally releasing her hold on him.

“We really must play around with that torc…”