Guild Mage: Apprentice

Gerold Talbot stared at Liv just long enough for her to feel the urge to look away, and then he barked out a sharp laugh. "You really have been raised by Julianne, haven't you," he said. "After what she pulled today, I half expect you to leap for my throat."

"Father," Cade said, "I didn't bring Liv here for you to insult her."

"Fine." The baron stood. "I'll let the two of you have a bit of privacy before dinner, but no closed doors. What do you get, young lady? You get my only son, if you want him, and everything that goes with that. In spite of everything, he's a good boy, and I believe he'll be a good man. If you can't see the value in that, it's you who don't deserve him. I will be certain the servants fetch you both in time to eat, and we'll take my carriage to the palace for the masque after." He turned, and departed the chamber.

Liv was finally able to exhale, and when she realized her hand was still on Cade's, she snatched it away. "I'm sorry about that," Cade said, after a moment. "My father - well, my Uncle Robert says it changed him, when my mother died. It's not an excuse, but..." he trailed off lamely.

"We're a pair, aren't we?" Liv said, to fill the silence. "Me growing up with no father, and you with no mother."

"I don't ever want to do that to my own children," the boy next to her said, and Liv was surprised by how fierce his tone was. "No one should grow up feeling like they're living in a funeral. If there's any time in your life you should feel happy and loved, it's when you're too young to understand anything."

"We never had much," Liv said. "But the kitchen was always warm and filled with good smells and things to eat, and people who would set me on their lap."

"That sounds nice," Cade said, and then stood abruptly. "Shall I show you around?"

"Please," Liv replied, and accepted his hand to help her up. She took Cade's arm while he showed her around the house, as was the custom, and it all felt very adult. She could picture Lady Julianne being given the tour by Cade's father, and having intelligent and cultured things to say about the tapestries or the paintings on the walls. Liv, on the other hand, knew very little about art.

The Talbots did not have a library in their townhouse, but there was a small study with a desk and a tall bookcase along one wall, and she grinned when she recognized a few titles on the shelves. "Blackwood's Bestiary. I have an old copy of that one," Liv admitted. "This must be one of the newer editions."

"It is." Cade nodded. "We reserve several new copies of each edition as Professor Blackwood revises them, and then sell the old ones to a bookseller. It's probably the most important book we own."

"He was at the conclave today," Liv told him, sliding the volume out and leafing through it. She was astounded at how many hand-written notes filled the pages. "He wasn't at all what I expected - he looked more like a hunter I know than a mage."

"I'm looking forward to studying under him at Coral Bay," Cade said.

"You go in four years?"

Cade nodded. "And you?"

"Six," Liv admitted, then carefully replaced the book on the shelf.

"We'll share two years, then," Cade said, chewing it over. "I'll get to show you around a bit, anyway. By the time you arrive, I'll know the place pretty well. And we can exchange letters, in the meanwhile. Perhaps visit."

"You said the bestiary was the most important book you had?" Liv asked him, with a frown. "I would have thought that would be a book of grammar. I don't think you've ever said - what does your family's word do?"

"Come out back and I'll show you," Cade said, though Liv didn't think he seemed at all excited by the prospect. In fact, he had the tone and attitude of someone bracing themselves for unpleasantness.

Rather than a garden behind the house, the Talbots had a training yard and, beyond that, what appeared to be a menagerie. There were cages full of rabbits and pigeons, a chicken coop, kennels of hunting dogs, and more.

"You like animals?" Liv asked, but Cade shook his head. His lips twisted as if he'd bitten down on a hunk of spoiled meat.

"You know the Vædic word for rabbit?" he asked her, and Liv shook her head. "Slethis," Cade said. "Or Slethia." Liv's fingers itched to write the piece of vocabulary down in a notebook before she forgot it, but she didn't want to be rude. She comforted herself with the thought that if she and Cade Talbot were to be spending a lot of time together, she could always just ask him again.

"I'm sorry," Cade apologized. "It isn't a nice word. You won't - I guess I'll just do it." He stretched a hand out to the cage of rabbits, and for all his ambivalence, when he spoke the invocation was clear and strong: "Velat Æ'Slethis."

The rabbit screamed, and the sound was horrifying, a high pitched, inhuman wail of pain. Liv took a step back in shock: gaping cuts and wounds opened on the poor beast's flesh, weeping blood. The other rabbits fled from their stricken companion, leaving it a twitching mass of gore on the floor of the cage. Cade lowered his hand and turned away from her.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Vela," he said. "To wound. I'm sorry," Cade apologized again. "It's horrible, I know. Father keeps the animals so that I can practice without hurting anyone."

Liv swallowed, and thought back to what Triss had said when they were planning for the duel: "The Talbots - that's not the worst word to practice against, but you're going to need a chirurgeon on hand." She tried to imagine wounds like the ones on the rabbit opening on her own body, and shuddered. Cade himself had never offered to practice with her, and now she understood why.

"We're a miserable family, aren't we?" Cade asked, still facing away from her. "I won't hold it against you if you want to walk away now, Liv."

She looked down at the cooling corpse of the rabbit, and recalled her own hesitation about the Summerset's word, Ters. Vela might be even worse, but that wasn't Cade's fault. He hadn't chosen his family's magic. Making a decision, Liv stepped over to his side and reached out for his hand. "Why don't you show me the way down to the beach," she said. "I'd like to see how you come down. Do you have stairs, like we do at Acton House?"

Cade was still and silent for a moment, then shook his head. "No, the bluff isn't as steep here," he said. "We just have a path that winds down. This way." He led Liv through the menagerie, which ended at the top of the bluff, with a bank of sea-grass waving in the breeze. The sun was edging down toward the horizon as they walked back and forth, criss-crossing the descent on a sandy path that must have been kept bare of grass by constant foot traffic. After meeting his father and seeing a demonstration of his family's magic, Liv felt she had a pretty good idea why he spent so much time alone down on the beach.

When they got down to the shore, Cade turned and pointed to the right. "That's your family's house, up there." Liv followed his hand, and recognized the white stone of Acton House.

"It isn't your fault," she told him. It was one thing to have thought it to herself, up at the top of the bluff, but Liv felt that it needed to be said out loud so that Cade could hear it. That didn't mean he'd believe it, but she couldn't help that one way or the other. "You didn't choose your magic. If I'd actually been Lady Julianne's daughter, my magic would be nearly as bad."

"Ters?" Cade said, shaking his head. "I'd take it over Vela in the blink of an eye. You can use it to preserve food, to dry clothing. The kind of practice that doesn't involve killing."

"Why are you going to college, then?" Liv asked him.

"Control," Cade answered. "I need to be good enough to use it without killing people by accident. If I can sever the muscles in a man's sword arm, I could make him drop his weapon, but leave him alive. Or the way you used the future tense - what if I could embed a spell like that in my sword, so that instead of a scratch, a deep cut opens?"

"And you have the bestiary so that you can study every kind of beast that comes from the rifts, don't you," Liv realized. What he wanted, above all else, was precision and control. Specificity. And that would require years of careful study.

"Exactly. I can't choose not to use it, that would be stupid and selfish of me," Cade told her. Liv thought of Matthew and his resistance to using his own family's word, and it was difficult not to think badly of him in comparison. It was stupid and selfish.

"You have to be ready to defend your people when there's an eruption," she agreed. "If someone dies because you were too squeamish to use your magic, that death is on your hands."

Cade nodded. "I don't enjoy using it. I hate it. But I also won't let anyone die because I hesitated."

Liv remembered what he'd offered to her, before the duel, and laughed. "When you said something about ripping the princess' neck open, I thought you meant with a sword! You really would have killed her for me?"

"I wouldn't have wanted to," he said. "But there's a reason no one wants to challenge my father to duel. And if it was a choice between her and you? I'd do it in a heartbeat."

Before she could think better of it, Liv rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek, very quickly. Then, turning so that he couldn't see her blush, she hurried back toward the path that led up the bluff. "Come on," she called back. "We have a lot of getting ready to do before the masque."

☙

Rather than a full dinner, the kitchen staff served trays of cold meats and cheeses, along with slices of bread and fresh butter, fruit preserves, and other finger foods. It was Liv who took the longest to get ready, of course. Thora worked on her hair while she ate, brushing it out and pinning it up in intricate braids.

"I don't envy you that," Cade said, taking a sip of watered wine in between bites of his own food. His father had not re-appeared.

"When I was a scullery maid Mama and I just pinned it up in a bun and put a cap over it," she recalled. "The goal was to keep it from getting dirty, not show it off."

"Well now it's going to be a work of art, if I have anything to say about it," Thora scolded her. "You just let me work, m'lady."

"I don't suppose there's a way you can leave a bit hanging down to hide my ears," Liv asked.

"Don't do that," Cade said. "You shouldn't have to hide who you are."

Liv looked down at her lap. "They also turn colors when I blush," she admitted. "Which I can't seem to stop from doing."

"I've noticed." Cade set his goblet down and stood. "Well, I'm off to dress. Your maid knows the room we've set aside for you, I believe."

"I do, m'lord," Thora assured him.

"We can head up now, then," Liv decided. "I'm sure there will be food at the palace, as well." She cleaned her fingers with a cloth, and followed Thora out. Baron Talbot had set aside a guest room for them to use, and the lady's maid had already laid out everything they would need to prepare for the evening.

The dress that Lady Julianne had sent with them was nearly pure white, with only pale-blue laces, lining, and embroidered flowers to break up the color. "Blue columbines," she murmured, looking the fabric over. The mask that went with it was white-painted leather, held in place by combs.

"It'll set off your hair and your eyes," Thora said. "Let's do your makeup, and then we can get you changed."

By the time they were done, the sun had set and the sky outside the windows was dark. Liv descended the stairs, with Thora trailing behind her, to find Cade and his father waiting at the bottom. Liv still hadn't decided exactly how she felt about the boy, but it was gratifying to see his expression when she came into view: if his eyes had gotten any wider, she thought, they might have fallen out of his head.

"How are you getting home?" Liv asked Thora.

"They're sending a carriage over to get me," she said. "Don't worry about me, m'lady. You just go and make everyone jealous at the palace."

Cade, dressed in a severe black doublet trimmed in silver thread and buttons, with a matching leather mask, offered her his arm, and Liv accepted it. Before he could say anything, his father spoke.

"I'd forgotten how long it takes a woman to get ready," Gerold Talbot complained. "Let's be off, then." He turned and strode out of the house.

"Don't mind him," Cade said. "You look beautiful, Liv." He offered her his arm, and she shifted her staff to her right hand to accept it. The ride over to the palace was awkward and quiet, with Baron Talbot sitting on the bench across from them, but Liv felt more comfortable with the boy at her side than she would have a day before. She felt that she understood him a little better now. He'd been afraid that she would run at the sight of his magic, and Liv supposed that some girls would have. But she'd killed two stone bats when she was merely a child, and it hadn't happened without getting blood on her hands.

"I hope this goes better than the tea party," Liv remarked, as the carriage rolled through the open gates and down the drive toward the palace.

"If there's to be any duels tonight, it's my turn," Cade joked.

"Let's not," his father barked. "The only job the two of you have tonight is to show off that you're courting in public. We don't need either of you drenched in blood: we need a pretty picture, some polite conversation, and perhaps a dance or two. I'll be keeping an eye on you, and if it looks like anything is getting ugly, I'll come over to interrupt. If we need to, we'll call for the carriage early."

"I need to stay at least until Matthew's been presented to the king," Liv said. Though Gerold Talbot didn't look happy about the idea, he nodded.

Then, they were at the front of the line of carriages, rolling to a halt, and a palace footman opened the door. Baron Talbot climbed out first, without any aid, and then Liv accepted a hand down from the footman.

"I can take your staff if you like, my lady," the liveried man offered.

"No, I'll keep it," Liv said, accepting Cade's arm once he'd climbed down. Though it was a bit awkward to carry around in formal dress, and she wondered whether Master Grenfell might help her make a more compact wand for such occasions. How much would that sacrifice in effectiveness? But it would be much more convenient to wear on a belt.

They took their place in the line of nobles, in through the open doors of the palace and then through the foyer and down the hall to a great ballroom. There, each family was announced in turn as they entered. Liv tried to calculate how many people would be at the palace: if there were something like a hundred and fifty barons, and each was married with children... She suddenly felt like hiding.

Before Liv was able to quiet the butterflies in her belly, it was their turn. Baron Talbot handed a card to the man at the door, and his eyes only flicked down to it for a moment before he called out in a ringing voice.

"Gerold Talbot, Baron of Bradon Bridge, with Lord Cade Talbot, accompanied by Lady Livara Tär Valtteri, of the Elden House of Syvä!"

They stepped into the ballroom, and Liv felt all of the eyes upon them. Rather than look at the crowd, she let Cade lead her off to the side, and gazed instead at the five great chandeliers that hung from the ceiling, each blazing with small oil lamps.

"There must be scores of lamps up there," Liv murmured.

"Hundreds," Cade said. "Look, there's your brother and Beatrice. Let's head over and say hello to them." Liv nodded, clinging to his arm like she imagined a drowning man might grasp the wreck of his ship. All around them, clusters of people swirled, gathering in knots of conversation and then breaking apart again like some great, living creature. It was like the conclave, only three or four times more people, and the entire room was like an assault upon her senses.

"There you are," a girl's voice broke across the crowd, and Liv stiffened.

Princess Milisant appeared out of the crowd as if she was an evil spirit conjured by magic, and planted herself directly in Liv's path.