Guild Mage: Apprentice

Before the afternoon of the Frost Fair, Liv couldn’t recall ever having ridden in a carriage before. Now, for the second time in only days, she was bundled up in her winter cloak and helped up onto a padded bench.

"I will have her back to you for her supper," Master Jurian promised Liv’s mother, and then climbed in after her.

"Where to first, Magis?" the driver asked, his hand on the carriage door.

"The local bookseller," Jurian answered. The door was shut, and they were off, rattling through the streets of The Hill. Liv was pleased to find that there were furs left on the benches, and she did not feel the slightest hesitation in laying her crutch on the carriage floor and wrapping herself up in a bearskin.

She couldn’t help but press herself to the glass panes of the windows, looking out at the people in the streets as they passed. "I’m always the one down on the ground," Liv admitted to Master Jurian. "Looking at the merchants in their fancy carriages, getting splashed by the muck from their wheels as they go by."

"You have something the guildsmen can’t buy with all their coins," her master pointed out.

"My word," she said, turning away from the window to face him. It stirred when she thought of it, then turned over and went back to sleep.

Jurian nodded. "A few of them manage to marry a daughter into a noble family, and have grandchildren inherit a word of power," he explained. "But the guilds only license enchantments. And while money might get someone into the college, only hard work and talent will see them all the way through. There is a reason that Kazimir is the only mage in this entire town."

The bookseller’s shop was a stone building with two glass-paned windows in front and a painted wooden sign hanging over the door that read: "Gaunt’s Books."

"Wait for us," Master Jurian commanded the driver. "We have at least two more stops to make, and there will be packages to load." Liv followed the mage into the shop, then closed the door behind her. Above the doorframe, a set of wooden chimes hung from the ceiling, and it jostled every time a patron entered or left the building, filling the shop with muted tones.

"Good afternoon," the shopkeeper said, stepping forward with a broad smile on his face. He was a heavyset man with great, sweeping mustaches that gave him something of the look of a hound.

"Master Gaunt, I presume?" Jurian asked.

"Indeed, Master Mage," Gaunt replied, his eyes lingering on the staff that Jurian kept in his right hand. "How can I help you?"

"My apprentice needs as many of the following books as you have on hand," Master Jurian said. Liv tried to keep up with the list of titles, but they came too quickly, as fast as the Aspen River during flood season. What was more, the extensive list quickly turned into titles and authors, shot back and forth between the mage and the shopkeeper. Gaunt would admit he didn’t have a particular history of the kingdom, and propose a different book as an alternative. When he noticed that Liv’s attention was wandering, Jurian pointed his staff at a shelf of leatherbound books with no titles or names on them.

"Pick one of those," he ordered her. "The one you like best. Make certain it is at least three fingers thick."

Liv leaned her crutch against the bookcase, putting all of her weight on her good ankle. She couldn’t help but smile as she picked up one book after another. They were pleasantly solid, the leather of each smooth and soft to the touch. Nearly all of them had patterns or pictures stamped onto the front cover. There were trees, flowers, even a wolf howling at the moon. Every single book was a work of art. She opened one, brought it to her face, and inhaled the scents of new leather and paper.

When she flipped through a few of the pages, she realized they were all blank. A quick check of two other books from the shelf confirmed that the entire collection was waiting to be filled with a customer’s writing. This would be much easier than scrawling phrases in the margins of her beat up old bestiary. Liv held three of her fingers against each journal in turn, setting aside the ones which weren’t thick enough to meet her master’s requirements. Some of them had attached rawhide leather cords, which could be wrapped around and tied to keep the book shut when not in use. A few even had simple bronze latches attached, which she decided would be more convenient. Those weren’t stamped, but Liv didn’t need a pretty picture on the front: she wanted something sturdy, with as much room as she could get for notes. Taking the thickest of the latching books, she put all the others back as she’d found them, put her crutch back under her arm, and turned to find that the shopkeeper and Master Jurian had stacked at least a dozen books on the shopkeeper’s counter.

"All of those?" Liv asked, trying not to stare.

"Expect more to arrive after flood season," Jurian muttered, and she got the impression that he was annoyed at the delay.

"Would this one be alright?" she asked, holding up the blank book she’d chosen. Now that she was presenting it for judgement, Liv worried that she’d been too greedy. It was likely one of the most expensive options, given how thick it was and the additional cost of the bronze latch.

"Perfect," Jurian said, hardly even giving the book a glance. "I’ve already given Master Gaunt his money; let us be on our way. We have several more stops to make."

"Thank you, Master Gaunt," Liv said, doing her best to curtsy, despite the crutch under one arm and the book in her hands.

"I am certain I will see you again, young miss," the bookseller said, and helped them carry the purchased books out to the carriage. Because they were in The Hill, there were expensive-looking shops up and down both sides of the street, and while the books were packed, Liv found herself distracted by a dress-maker’s shop, which occupied the next storefront over.

The windows were two of the largest Liv had ever seen, and were used to display a beautiful piece on each side, both arranged on wooden frames. One was a merchant’s dress, with all the outer skirts and the bodice a dark gray color, but the inner lining a brilliant purple. The other was clearly intended for a noblewoman, for no one else would be permitted to wear fabric patterned in bright crimson and deep black.

Mirabel and Griselda couldn’t wear that one, Liv realized, even if they could probably afford it. Out of everyone in town, only Lady Julianne was within her rights to do so. Perhaps the shopkeeper had put it in the window specifically to attract the eye of the baron and his bride.

"I’m not buying you a dress today," Master Jurian said, coming up behind Liv. She felt her cheeks bloom with heat, and she stepped back away from the window.

"I couldn’t wear it anyway," she said.

Jurian narrowed his eyes. "You know that laws are not the same everywhere, Liv, don’t you? In the lands of the Eld, in Lendh ka Dakruim, or even across the sea in Varuna, you could wear whatever you liked, regardless of your birth."

Liv attempted to imagine herself in such a beautiful dress, but she couldn’t make the picture come. Every time she tried, a dirty kitchen apron got in the way. "Are we going to see Master Forester?" she asked, and her master nodded, helping her back into the carriage.

Master Forester, of course, did not live on The Hill. The carriage rumbled down toward the open-air market at the center of town, leaving behind the homes of wealthy merchants, the Temple of the Trinity, the Old Oak Inn, and Castle Whitehill. The Lower Banks was not a neighborhood Liv had been to before; when Mama took her shopping, it was always to the market. She could see the river pier to the east, past a row of warehouses. The carriage jostled past two additional inns, their signs proclaiming them the Laughing Carp and the Gilded Star. Liv saw a butcher, a potter, and a smithy, all too loud or foul-smelling to be permitted in the wealthier district. Finally, they rolled to a halt in front of a wooden house of two stories, with a few small windows and a sign hanging over the door that read: ’Forester: Game Meats and Furs.’

Master Jurian knocked at the door, while Liv tried to keep her shoes from being ruined by the muck. In the Lower Banks, the streets were evidently not nearly as clean as up the hill, and she wrinkled her nose at a familiar stink. Did people really just empty their chamber pots in the street? That was what it smelled like.

Liv looked up and down the street. Two houses down, a group of youths were clustered around the end of an alley. One of them was a skinny girl a bit older than Liv, with her head uncovered and her hair shorn close to her scalp. Liv was surprised that she recognized two of the boys. There was Little Whit, whose claim to fame in the town was that he was the only son of Big Whit, still undefeated at bare-knuckle boxing at every market day for as long as Liv could remember. The other was Bill, the former footman, no longer in his livery.

Did he know that she was the reason he’d lost his position at the castle? Liv wasn’t quite sure until he turned in her direction and met her eyes. She’d never been looked at so hatefully, and Liv suspected that when he spoke, it was to his friends about her. The short-haired girl and Little Whit both looked over, as well, and she wanted to crawl away and hide from their stares.

At that moment, the door to Master Forester’s home swung open, and the man stepped out into the street, frowning. The moment he looked past Master Jurian to Liv, however, his face broke into a great smile, and he laughed. "Miss Brodbeck! Welcome, welcome. Who is your friend, here?"

"Magis Jurian of Carinthia," her master answered, extending his hand. "Miss Brodbeck has agreed to be my apprentice. I understand you are the best hunter and trapper in the town?"

"In the town? No!" Kale Forester said. "In the whole blasted valley! Come in, come in. Emma, come see who our visitors are!" he called into the house, holding the door open for Liv and Jurian to enter. Once the walls were blocking the gazes of the youths in the alley, Liv felt a good deal better.

A dark-haired little girl of perhaps five years bounced down the stairs and into the room. Liv was relieved to see that Emma Forester did not look sick or injured in the slightest. "Hello," she said, waving with the hand that was not gripping her crutch.

"Emma," Kale Forester said, "this is the girl who pulled you out of the river."

"Liv Brodb-eek!" Liv stumbled backward and did her best not to fall as the child threw herself forward. Emma wrapped her arms around Liv’s waist and squeezed.

"Thank you!" the little girl said. It was a strange experience, for Liv to see someone who was actually smaller than she was looking up at her. "I remember falling, and how cold it was, and going to sleep, and then I woke up wrapped in furs in front of a fire, and then I had to take the longest bath ever, but I’m fine now!"

"You don’t have to thank me," Liv said, embracing the girl in return. If nothing else, it kept her from losing her balance. "I was just the one who saw it happen. Anyone would have helped, in my place."

"Well, we are grateful, in any case," Master Forester said. "How was that venison? Did you need more?"

"Actually," Master Jurian said, "that brings us to the point of our visit. I am told you are the person to see if one wishes to acquire game meat saturated by the Bald Peak rift."

"Let me show you my dolls!" Emma said, taking Liv by the hand and dragging her toward the foot of the stairs. She was able to keep one ear on the negotiation between Kale Forester and her master, which seemed to involve regular deliveries to the castle kitchens in return for payments made by the mages’ guild. It turned out they would not need to go to Fairford, after all, for the hunter knew Auntie Rhea.

"No, I see her regularly," Forester explained. Liv was puppeting a stuffed bear of knitted wool, while Emma stalked it with a rag-doll hunter. "I bring her any herbs or seeds I find on the lower slopes of the mountain. It’s no trouble for me to pick up what you need from her. She’s in Whitehill often enough, anyway - whenever someone needs a midwife."

"Well, that saves us a bit of time," Master Jurian said. "Thank you. Do you happen to have anything here today?"

"You’re in luck," the hunter told him. "The rift is getting near to an eruption, and there are more and more beasts roaming about. I’ve got a mountain cottontail that would make a good stew, hanging in back. I’d been planning to see whether Master Grenfell wanted it; he sometimes buys from me."

"We’ll take it when we leave," Jurian said.

"Will Master Grenfell mind?" Liv asked, looking up from the dolls. "I don’t want to inconvenience him."

"You can always share the stew with him, if you like," Master Jurian said, accepting the skinned rabbit. "But if my theory is correct, you need this more than he does, Apprentice. Come along now."

"Goodbye, Emma," Liv said, using the crutch to help her stand up. "It was good to see you, and I’m pleased you’re doing well."

"Maybe you can come play again sometime?" Emma asked.

"Perhaps," Liv said.

"Before I forget," Kale Forester said. "Take these - I finished them yesterday." He handed her a pair of skates carved from the horns of the buck he’d given her, along with rawhide leather cords to tie them onto her shoes.

Once they’d returned to the castle, Liv did her best to catch up on all the work that had accumulated for her in the scullery. She took her new ring off and set it aside so that it wouldn’t be lost or ruined. Master Jurian pulled a chair over from the kitchen table, set it in the hall right outside the room, and put her new leather-bound book in his lap, with a bottle of ink on the floor next to him.

"I want you to know what I’m putting in here for you," he explained. "So pay attention to me while you’re scrubbing those dishes. I’ll leave the front of the book for you to record your spells and notes; in the back, I’m going to put some words that I think will be useful to you."

"Just words?" Liv asked, putting her shoulder into the grime that had been baked onto one of the pie plates. "Not full spells? What about that blue bubble that you made? That looked useful."

"The word of raw magical force," Jurian said, dipping his quill into the ink. "That will be taught to you at the College, when you confirm your membership in the guild. We do not teach it to anyone who is not going to make a lifelong commitment to us. As to your other question," he said, over the scratching of quill on paper, "I do not intend to make you lazy, Apprentice."

"You have the luxury of time," her master explained. "Twenty years, at least, before you travel to Coral Bay. No other apprentice will have such a lengthy introduction, so I expect you to make good use of it. I will not give you a single other spell, but I will give you something better: the tools to create your own. By the time you arrive for your first year of studies, I expect you to be able to demonstrate at least half a dozen new spells, using your word of power."

"Six?" Liv repeated. It seemed like a lot, when she’d never even created a single spell in her life.

"Six," Jurian confirmed. "In addition to the one that I’ve already given you. You should give it a name, by the way. I’m giving you a list of numbers in Vædic," he continued. "As well as a few shapes. I expect the word for ’wall’ will be useful to you," the mage muttered as he wrote. "Let’s see what you can do with a few body parts. I trust Grenfell to teach you the proper conjugations and cases, be certain you check your work with him before actually trying to cast anything. And by the Trinity, do not use any of these inside the castle. In fact, go out of the town entirely. Find yourself a place to practice where no one other than you can be hurt."

Outside of Whitehill? Liv had never been outside of Whitehill on her own before: only with Mama, as a passenger on the occasional sleigh ride, or for a market day picnic in the mountains. "Master Forester said an eruption was coming," she said. "Will it be safe?"

"Once the rift has been culled, it will be safe," Jurian said. "Baron Henry can see to organizing that - it’s his responsibility, after all. Make certain that Kazamir tells you about it when they’re done; there’s a great deal you can learn."

They both worked late into the night: Liv until there was not a single dish left to scrub, and her master until he’d run out of ideas to write into the back of her book. Liv went to bed with a stack of books on her bedside table, her new skates on the floor, and a silver ring on her finger. It was as if her empty room had suddenly been filled with a treasure trove. She opened her new spellbook, and took a big breath of the scent of fresh leather and paper before putting it back and cuddling in with Rosie and Charlie.

The next morning, she woke to find that Master Jurian had left before dawn.