Guild Mage: Apprentice

"I’m sorry," Liv said, pushing her chair back and bending down to find her fork. "I’m sorry, I just-"

"The footmen will get it," Lady Julianne said. "It’s alright, Liv. Leave the fork."

Under the table, at least no one was staring at her. Liv sucked in a breath and held it. In, hold, out. It was usually so good for calming her down, but sooner or later she was going to have to sit up, and the thought of doing that filled her with panic. The longer she hid, the more she must look like an idiot.

Liv left the fork on the floor, wherever it had tumbled off to, and sat up. She tried to relax, but she could feel her shoulders hunching anyway. This urge to make herself smaller, to be unnoticed, had never really gone away from the time that she was small.

"Perhaps we should give Liv a chance to get her thoughts together," Baron Henry suggested, his voice softer than she could recall ever hearing before. "It is quite a large decision. Liv, you don’t need to make a choice right now. And I believe you have quite a bit to do to get ready for tea."

Lady Julianne shook herself, and smiled. "Of course. I’m sorry dear, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. I wasn’t certain my father would approve, and I wanted to let you know first thing. But even just having this piece of paper ready will help us to protect you."

"Thank you," Liv managed. "I- it’s just, I wasn’t expecting this. It’s quite a surprise. And you’re right, my lord, I do have a lot to do. I know Thora wants to do my hair, and - well, wait a moment. What do I say, if someone asks me? Is the princess going to know?"

"She may," Lady Julianne said. "It wouldn’t surprise me; little remains secret for long in the palace. If someone asks, Liv, just tell the truth. We’ve offered to adopt you, it’s quite a shock, and you’re taking a bit of time to decide what you want to do."

"I will." Liv stood up. "May I be excused?"

"You may," Baron Henry said. "Matthew, stay behind. I want to talk with you a bit about your role this afternoon."

Liv snatched her staff up and practically fled the dining room, but she wasn’t able to get far enough down the hall to avoid hearing Lady Julianne’s voice: "I don’t understand, Henry. I thought she’d be happy-"

Thora, waiting beside Sophie outside the dining room, fell into step at Liv’s heels. "Are we heading upstairs, m’lady? I’ll have a bath drawn, and we can do your hair. Did you have enchanted pipes up there in the mountains?"

"No," Liv said. "We had hot springs. Why don’t you get it started, Thora. I’m just going to take a bit of air in back."

"You shouldn’t go alone, m’lady," Thora protested.

Alone, of course, was exactly what Liv wanted to be. She picked up her pace and tore out through the gardens, leaving Thora to scramble for one of the half dozen guards that had accompanied the family from Whitehill. By the time the man had made it halfway down the stairs, Liv was on the beach. She didn’t recall his name, but at least he was kind enough to wait for her at the bottom of the steps, and give her a bit of privacy.

Liv looked up and down the strand, but there was no one in sight, not even Cade Talbot. She wasn’t certain whether she felt relieved or disappointed at the dark-haired boy’s absence.

☙

Eventually, Liv was left with no choice but to allow Thora to coax her up to her rooms. Rather than a wooden tub lined with linen, the bathing facilities here at Acton House were much newer. A great black cast iron tub, connected to clay water pipes, dominated the small bathing room attached to her bed chamber. The pipes ran up the wall, and disappeared into the ceiling.

"There’s a great cistern on the roof," Thora explained. "With sand, charcoal, and gravel to filter the rainwater. Don’t ask me how the magic part works, though." She opened the tap at the end of the pipes, and steaming hot water poured out into the tub.

"There must be a sigil inscribed into the clay," Liv speculated. "Using a word of power that heats the water as it passes through."

"I’m told the pipers’ guild had to get a license from two different families to make it all work," Thora said. "But I couldn’t tell you which. In you go, m’lady, so I can brush your hair."

Liv had never had a maid before, which meant she’d washed herself ever since she was old enough to do so. The memories of her mother bathing her as a child were old ones, and more fragmentary glimpses than anything specific. She found, to her surprise, that there was something relaxing about being tended to.

First, Thora scattered a handful of herbs into the water as the tub filled. Liv could smell sage and camomile, and she also noticed small shavings of orange peel floating in the water as it rose. "I’m going to smell like a garden by the time this is done," Liv grumbled, as she stepped into the tub. The maid gathered her hair and held it up, so that once Liv had settled into a sitting position, it was hanging over the side of the iron tub. Then, Thora set to work with a brush, and Liv found herself lulled nearly to sleep, eyes closed, by the hot water and the gentle rhythm of her hair being cared for.

Afterword, in a clean shift, Liv sat at her desk with her hand-copied volume of Semhis Thorn-Killer’s diary, while Thora piled her hair up onto her head and pinned it in place. She looked over the spells that Baron Henry’s ancestor had recorded. If she did agree to the adoption, did that mean that the Summersets would teach her to use their word of power?

She assumed so, if the intent was for her to truly become part of the family. The word itself, however, did not fill Liv with a great deal of enthusiasm. Ters was a word that did only a very few things, though it did them well. One could use it to dry out their clothes, of course, but there was little reason to use high magic for that when the drying charm existed. It could also be used to pull all of the water or juice out of any kind of meat or fruit, resulting in travel rations that kept for a very long time. Henry had set Matthew to doing that as practice, and Liv had even tasted a few of the results.

Ters could also be used to dry green wood, another practical application. But those things aside - it was a word of power that killed. It turned out that all living things responded to sudden, urgent thirst and dehydration in pretty much exactly the same manner: they shrivelled and died. And that was the problem.

Liv could think of a dozen ways to trap, distract, trip, bind, or wound using ice. She could kill something - and she had, when a stonebat had charged her. But she could also protect people behind an icewall, or make a chute from the top of a mountain to the bottom, so that children could ride shields down. Ters seemed to either be good for dull things that she would never want to waste her time doing - even if she could admit they were quite practical - or for killing one’s enemies without a shred of mercy. All told, she wasn’t certain she actually wanted to learn that kind of word of power.

"There you are, m’lady," Thora said, finally. "Take a look." Liv closed her book and set it aside so that she could examine herself in the hand mirror the maid had brought over. The sides of her hair, from just above her ears up, had been woven into two braids, then pulled back to hold the rest of her hair, which fell loose down her back. The braids were held in place with ornate silver cuffs, set with pearls, and the entire affair had been so thoroughly brushed that every strand gleamed a brilliant white. It left her ears exposed, but Liv supposed there was no help for that.

"Her ladyship has sent over a few pieces of matching jewelry, to go with it," Thora told her. She fastened a carcanet, consisting of three rows of white pearls, around Liv’s neck: it looked as if it should choke her, in the mirror, but was actually quite comfortable. There was a silver and pearl bracelet to match, for her left wrist. "It’s a pity your ears aren’t pierced," Thora said. "Or we could do studs there, as well."

"Scullions don’t tend to pierce their ears," Liv pointed out. "They wouldn’t have anything to wear, if they did."

"You’re not a scullion any longer, m’lady," Thora said. "Hard to believe you ever were."

When the dress was on and properly arranged, Liv was forced to agree. "I look like a princess or something," she said, spinning once before the standing mirror to watch her blue overskirt swish.

"They’re even fancier," Thora told her with a grin. "Let’s get you downstairs, m’lady."

☙

Matthew was waiting for her at the carriage, wearing a green doublet and a rapier at his belt. He grinned when he saw her, and offered Liv a hand up. "I don’t know how you can move in skirts like that," he teased her. "But you look good, Liv, all done up."

"Thank you," Liv said, with a smile. She set her staff in the corner, and straightened her skirts while he climbed in and pulled the door closed. For a moment, she wondered if the boy on the beach would agree with him, and then the horses were off and the carriage in motion.

"Mother wanted me to remind you," Matthew said, "that anything the princess says is worth paying attention to. Any talk of the guilds, or voting, she wants to know as well. And anything about the succession."

Liv nodded, turning her mage guild ring on her finger. Out of all the jewelry she was wearing right now, it felt like the only piece she’d actually earned. "Three things isn’t so much to remember," she said.

"I’ll walk you in," Matthew explained, "say a few pleasantries, and then leave you be. I’ll come back at the end to pick you up, as well. Likely say a few words to the other brothers, on our way in and out."

"I’m to be your sister, then," Liv couldn’t help but ask.

"You might as well have been already," Matthew remarked, as the carriage took a turn. "I’ve known you my whole life. And it’s been clear this was what my mother wanted for a long time, hasn’t it? I mean, she gave you rooms meant for a daughter, both here and back home. I expect the only reason it hasn’t happened before now was that we hadn’t come to Freeport."

Liv looked out the window. Everyone else had seen this coming, apparently - everyone but her. They were all ready to welcome her into their family. In most ways, they already had. Did Mama know, too? Had she realized what was going to happen when she’d said goodbye? What would she think if her daughter came back a Summerset instead of a Brodbeck?

She was so absorbed in her own thoughts that she didn’t realize they had reached the palace until Matthew scrambled out of the carriage and offered his hand to help her down. When he saw her pull her staff out and take it in hand, he grinned.

"I don’t think there’ll be any drunks at tea, Liv."

"Let’s hope there won’t be anything worse," she said, and turned to look over the palace. It wasn’t quite what she’d expected: for one thing, it looked to be of much more recent construction than Castle Whitehill.

The carriage had come down a long lane, paved with cobblestones, which looped around a great fountain. To every side, extensive gardens and lawns spread out, taking up so much space that she couldn’t even see the walls that surrounded the grounds.

Where the Summersets’ castle was built for war, and only later adapted for comfort, the palace at Freeport was made of red bricks, neatly laid in ornamental patterns. It looked to be perhaps four stories, and the crenellations struck Liv as more for show than for use. There weren’t any curtain walls, or a moat, or even a proper keep, and there were far too many windows to be defensible in the event of a nearby eruption.

As Liv was looking over the building, another carriage pulled up behind them. Rather than a young man getting out first, a blonde woman wearing tight breeches and a doublet, with a sword on her hip, hopped out entirely without aid.

"Hello, then," Matthew said, turning to greet her. Liv was forced to follow, given that she was holding onto his arm. "Is it the new fashion for ladies to wear a blade?"

"I don’t give a fig about the fashion," the woman told him with a grin. "You have any idea how to use that sword you’re wearing, or is it just for show?"

"Perhaps you could find out sometime," Matthew shot back, and Liv was probably the last to realize they were flirting.

"Triss Crosbie," the woman with the sword introduced herself, extending her hand like a man. "Well, Beatrice, but that’s a mouthful."

"Matthew Summerset, and this is Liv Brodbeck," he responded. Liv noticed that he held onto Beatrice’s hand for a moment longer than he would have done if she were a man. The girl looked to be of an age with Matthew, which meant that she filled out those breeches in a way that was positively scandalous.

"Your betrothed?" Triss asked him.

Matthew shook his head. "My sister. Well, soon, at any rate. Mother just got the papers signed by the king last evening."

"My congratulations, in that case," Triss said, extending her hand to Liv, who took it.

"Thank you. Shall we head in?" Liv asked. There was something about this girl she didn’t like.

"Of course. Lady Beatrice, would you allow me to escort you both in?" Matthew asked, lifting his left arm.

Triss laughed. "Why not. Off we go then." She wrapped her arm around Matthew’s, and together the three of them proceeded down the garden path where palace servants waited. They were ushered along to an eight-sided pavilion, with stairs leading up to a wooden deck where tables and chairs had been set up. On the tables were pots of tea and platters of tarts, cakes, fresh fruits and sliced cheese of many kinds. Around the edges of the gathering were half a dozen footmen and maids, but most of the young ladies had stepped down into the garden, where they were gathered in a cluster.

"Lady Beatrice Crosbie," the footman who had escorted them in announced, with a voice that rung out across the garden. "And Apprentice Liv Brodbeck, of the mages’ guild. Both escorted by Lord Matthew Summerset, of Whitehill."

"Get over here then, Triss," a dark haired young woman dressed in purple, with matching rings, bracelets, and necklace of emeralds set in gold, called out. "Princess Milly’s challenged us all to the game of flowers, and it’s my turn."

"I’ll leave you both here, then," Matthew said. "Liv, I’ll be back for you at the fourth bell. I hope I see you then, too, Lady Crosbie."

"Maybe you will, and maybe you won’t," Triss told him with a grin. "Come along then, Liv." The girl with the sword grabbed Liv by the hand before she knew what was happening, and pulled her away from Matthew. "Watch," she said.

Liv cast one last glance back at Matthew, but he was already striding away up the path to where they’d left the carriage. With nothing to do but plunge in, she turned back to the group of girls.

There were perhaps a dozen, all told, ranging between those who looked just a bit younger than Liv, to those who looked about the same age as Matthew. Other than Triss Crosbie, they were all wearing dresses in a similar fashion to the one Lady Julianne had procured for Liv, so in that respect at least she didn’t stand out. She could feel the eyes on her, however, and she was very aware of how obvious the tips of her ears must be. The other girls were also, down to the last one, taller.

One of the youngest girls, with dark hair, held a rose made of pure fire above her hand, grinning. Each individual petal or thorn was picked out in shades of scarlet, orange and bright yellow. "Beat that, then, Cecily," she said, with a grin.

"So long as her highness doesn’t mind the damage to her garden," the dark haired girl in purple said, looking over to a younger blonde.

"It’s part of the game," the girl, presumably Princess Milisant, said with a distinct lack of interest. "The gardeners will fix it. We might as well get some work out of them, with how much we spend on their wages."

Cecily bent her knees, gathering her skirts with her left hand, and traced a finger along the neatly trimmed grass. "Necet Greium Belia," she intoned. Where the girl’s finger passed, the grass withered and died, leaving an outline in withered yellow, picked out against the vibrant green of the lawn. Fingerstroke by fingerstroke, she drew a flower in death. "There," the girl said, standing back up. "Someone beat that."

"Why don’t you give it a try, Apprentice Brodbeck?" the princess asked. "After all, you’re the only one here who is already a member of the mages’ guild. Give us a demonstration of your magic. I’m sure we’re all absolutely dying of curiosity."

For the second time that day, Liv found herself pinned by the gaze of everyone around her.