by J. S. Fields
That brought my mood crashing back down and I froze, unable to speak. Years ago, I’d have corrected her, or thrown something at her, or giggled and told her to shove off. We were too old to forgo our stations now, despite my reading of the paper earlier, and she was too old to be asking such forward questions.
Magda finally noticed my rigid posture and waved her hand about, managing to include my entire upper torso in her explanation. “I don’t mean in reaction to the barmaid. This is just…new. Should I be thinking of you as the sister I never had, or the brother?”
“Royal Daughter, I am not a man.” I managed to pull the words from my mouth. There were several more subtle ways she could have asked that question. She had chosen none of them. It was hard to stay mad at her, however, since her tired eyes were filled with sincerity. I took a large mouthful of tea, letting the heat scald my mouth, ensuring I’d have time to think before answering her inevitable follow-ups.
Magda surprised me by snorting and banging on the table. “At a formal function, that title is fine. Otherwise, I’m Magda, especially to you.” She took a sip from her cup and winked at me.
My face became entirely too warm. “Fine. Magda. Would you please release me from the woodcutter’s guild so I can begin my apprenticeship tomorrow?”
Magda’s brow creased, and she pointed to the stack of papers. “I was actually hoping we could talk about Master Amada—”
“I don’t care.”
“Sorin—”
“No, listen.” I took a deep drink of my cider and set the cup down on the table, more loudly than I’d intended. “Mother is three weeks late returning. I was going to the alchemy fair to see Master Rahad but—” My voice wavered. Had Magda caught it? From the slight raise of her eyebrow, it seemed so. I continued in a rush, hoping to get the words out before emotion tangled them. If I was going to turn down this mysterious offer, I had to do so with confidence, or she’d just keep asking.
“Men came to the house and took me from it. I don’t know who they were. Not guild. Not Queensguard, though they were dressed like it. They said they were sent by the grandmaster witch for Mother. A grandmaster witch, Magda! If Mother is in trouble, then it’s her business, not mine. I’ve had enough.”
What joviality remained bled from Magda’s face. She pushed her bowl away and rested her head in her hands. “I’m sorry, Sorin.” She rubbed her fingertips at her temples and didn’t raise her head. The quietness of the inn was suddenly too much, and I pushed my chair back across the wood floor just to hear something.
Magda peered at me between two fingers. “You’re not hurt, though, right? I mean, aside from the obvious.” She looked at my forehead where I’d grated it across a tree during my forest escape. It had scabbed over but was still exceedingly sore.
Hurt. Did people’s words count? Not likely. I was too old to let such things bother me, or rather, I should have been. Physical hurt was likely what she was asking about. I took another sip of cider and considered how best to answer. I didn’t have a home, or family, currently. My small laboratory could be rebuilt, but Mother’s shop, that would take years. While I didn’t mind its destruction, Mother would.
So the answer was no, then. I was bruised but not hurt.
“I just need rest,” I said. The next words came before I realized I was saying them. “I killed one of them.”
Magda’s eyebrows raised. “You did?” She looked me over incredulously. “How? You don’t know how to use a sword. Unless Amada relented on that education? I know the queen let you sneak a few lessons with me, but that hardly counts.”
I patted the belt in what I hoped was confidence, although my stomach knotted. “Alchemy. Trade level, but still. I’ve discovered a new use for some of the Thujan fungi. That’s what Master Rahad was talking about. He’s offered me a guild apprenticeship, but I can’t take it without Mother’s permission, or yours.” I pursed my lips and stared at her, hoping she might actually respond this time.
Magda sat back and wrinkled her nose. The feet of her chair skipped a few millimeters across the floor, and I winced at the sound. She’d definitely scuffed the finish. “I don’t know, Sorin. Woodcutting is much safer, I’d think. I can’t imagine Amada wanting you to mess around with the unbound guilds. There’s too much bad history there.”
Damn it. “Yes, well, I’m done with woodcutting. I’m an alchemist now,” I reminded her.
Magda turned to the window. It was early evening, and the sun beat through the glass. “I’d prefer you weren’t in any guild if we’re being honest,” Magda said as she relaxed into her chair. “There’s been a distinct hemorrhage of grandmasters as of late. They’re fleeing by the boatload. To where, we don’t know. Maybe outside the three countries to work in the new trade factories. Maybe to somewhere the factories can’t touch. Either way, Sorpsi is effectively crippled without them. We’ve lost the woodcutters and the glass workers. We’ve all but lost the smiths, too, even though I’m still here. One smith does not a guild make.” She paused and frowned. “I’m glad you weren’t caught up in it. I’d worried, knowing how much you worked with Amada.”
I grunted and sat back in my chair. “I was caught up in it, though I’m no master. I’m not even a journey. I refused all of Mother’s offers.”
“You are in woodcutting,” Magda countered evenly. She swirled her fingers in her rice. “Master level, I’d guess, even without the journey to prove it. You couldn’t have lived with Amada this long and not absorbed that level of skill. You’ve been a woodcutter since birth.”
If she was going to jab, I could counter. “I don’t want to talk about woodcraft. Tell me what you want, or why Mother’s name is all over those documents, or release me from my guild and let me go back to the castle.”
Magda tilted her head and frowned. Apparently, stations did matter then, if not names. I turned from the table, toward the bar. It was a darker wood than the furniture, but with the glossy finish, I couldn’t make out species. This finish was oil of some sort, that much I could tell, though not a well-made one. More cut corners, it seemed.
“There isn’t a single master or grandmaster left in Sorpsi, other than you, myself, and Master Rahad.” She tapped the stack of papers. “These are leads, some of which directly concern the queen and Master Amada.” Magda put her elbows on the table, rested her chin on her hands, and stared pointedly at me. “I know you want that apprenticeship, but…you need to come with me. Whatever trouble our mothers are in, chances are they are in it together. I suspect this is more than just guilders looking for greener pastures free of the threats of industrialization.”
Magda stood, grinning, and offered me a hand. My heart sank. “What do you say? Want to go an adventure? A real one, this time?”
I spun in the chair to face her, a deep frown on my face. “I am not going anywhere, except to bed. In the morning, I am going to Master Rahad’s alchemical laboratory and starting my apprenticeship. Please, Magda. Mother can take care of herself!”
“But can you?”
Seriously? I’d foiled a kidnapping attempt and fended off a sentient tree, and she was worried about me leaving the capital? I stood, refusing to look up at her like the tradesperson I was. My chair fell back and hit the floor, cracking along the top rail. No point in feeling bad over a heretical chair. I kicked the thing to the side, and it hit the table leg with a hollow thunk.
Magda put her left hand on the pommel of her sheathed sword, although what message she hoped to send by doing that I couldn’t imagine. Would she run me through if I declined? That’d be a fitting end to my day.
“I’m not giving you a choice, Sorin.” Her tone held the formality of the courts. “I was trying to make it sound less like a command. You need to come with me. Whether you do it out of familial loyalty or because you’re being forced doesn’t much matter. You need protection, and as fond as I am of Master Rahad, in his current state, he is in no position to offer you any.” She sighed. “Please don’t look at me like that.”
>
I suppressed the urge to growl. “And who is protecting you?”
She folded her arms to match mine. “I don’t need protection. I know how to use a sword.”
Her patronizing tone rankled. “I’m not exactly defenseless, you know.” I kicked at the fallen chair again, which stubbornly refused to break further. “Where are you even going?”
“Tomorrow I leave for the mountains, then over to Puget for the treaty talks.” Magda tempered her tone, although her posture stayed rigid. “Someone has to negotiate for Sorpsi so our borders aren’t redrawn. After that, I’m traveling beyond Puget to see the source of these mechanization rumors for myself.”
“But the queen?” I asked, cutting in. “Isn’t someone going to look for her?”
Magda nodded. “I am.”
“Don’t you have…people for that?”
Magda’s gaze remained level. “Not that I trust. I’m taking the forest route to our side of the mountains, at least at first. There is a village of interest on the border, right on the trade route. It’s not far from where Iana’s Lake is rumored to be, as a matter of fact. A few of the missing masters were sighted in the border town of Miantri. It’s the best lead we have, and it is on the way to Puget.” She gestured toward the stack of sheets. “I have some…lists. Not as specific as you might think. It’s a lot of conjecture, but Sorpsi is crippled like this. If I can find a few grandmasters, or even masters, before the talks, and convince them to come back, I might save some of our borders. There is a very real possibility of losing our country, Sorin. I’m taking this seriously, despite what your tone implies.”
Had the royal crest been on the sheet I’d seen, along with the guild marks? I couldn’t remember. “The queen?” I asked again. “Has she been seen, or are the sightings just of Mother?”
Magda’s head rolled back as she exhaled. “Gods, Sorin, those papers weren’t for you to read. I’ll find the queen, but it might not be before the treaty talks. I have to find the guild masters first. I can rule in the queen’s stead, but without the guild masters, I’ll have no country to rule over once the treaty talks commence. Without guilds, by Iana’s law, we have no right to our borders. Our land will be divided between Puget and Eastgate. No guilds, no country. That’s just how it’s written.”
I let out a long breath and rubbed my nose. “Magda, I don’t want to go with you.” It sounded too coarse since a sizable part of me did want to go with her and perhaps find the friend I’d lost. But a bigger part of me, the louder part, wanted that apprenticeship.
“Not even to help find Amada? Your mother is in danger, Sorin. I’m sure of it.”
“Magda—”
“She could be injured! Injured, or trapped, or kidnapped, along with my mother. We have so many reports and—” She pointed to the stack of papers as her voice became more insistent. “—she’s the grandmaster of woodcutting. You know her better than anyone, and where she might be. And if she’s dead, Sorin, if she’s dead, you’re all we have… I can’t lose you too.”
Magda met my eyes in a stare that felt like it might stop my heart. I opened my mouth, unsure what would come out, but Magda spoke first.
“Sorpsi can’t lose the woodcutters.”
I rolled my eyes. The woodcutters. Of course.
“There’s really no one else? No apprentices? Journeys?”
She shook her head, the ends of her braids bobbing across her back. “You’re all that’s left.”
“Damn it, Magda.” I scuffed the toe of my boot on the floor. I could deal with Mother’s disappointment, but I couldn’t shoulder the responsibility of destroying an entire guild—especially not the one I’d been raised in, and I certainly didn’t want the fate of the woodcutters on my shoulders. Damn it! Mother’s house had blown up, and I could feel the rough cedar walls closing in on me. Suffocating me. Crushing me.
“Master Rahad will wait for you,” she said, her voice soft. “I’ll ask him to. It’s just a little delay.”
“A delay during which I follow you around the mountains like a lost kitten,” I retorted. “Instead of starting the life I’ve wanted, that’s always been just out of reach.”
Magda bit her lower lip thoughtfully, then walked to the door, opened it, and gestured for two Queensguard to come inside. They were men, one of whom yawned into the fading light.
“Take Sorin to the palace.”
I looked at the royal daughter, dumbfounded. The guards nodded and came toward me, sluggishly, as if they’d been asleep at their posts. With Magda being, well, Magda, I suspected this particular job did not see a lot of action. I backed away, skirting my fallen chair and, stupidly, ended up with my back against the wall.
“How would you deal with them, Sorin, if they were bandits on the road? Show me you can defend yourself if I leave you with Rahad.”
“Uh.” I fingered the pouch of red pigment. “This isn’t really the best setting to be using my powders.”
Magda rubbed her temples again and sighed.
One of the guards grabbed my left arm. “Come on now. As she says.”
I stomped my foot and jerked my arm away. Gods take this whole situation, this whole damn day! I was tired of being dragged around, whether by kidnappers or Queensguard, and knowing my mother, whatever mess she was in, was half her own doing. If she was in that mountain town by choice, no royal daughter was going to convince her to leave. I didn’t want to go on this trip, but I couldn’t just let the woodcutting guild die either. If I was going to be forced to follow Magda, it was going to be on my terms.
“Sorin—”
“No.” I unfastened the pouch of red pigment and eased open its strings. As both guards made to grab for me, I flicked my wrist to the right, sending a few granules onto a nearby chair.
The chair exploded in a shower of red flowering crystals.
I ducked instinctively, but the guards did not. They grunted and tripped over one another as wood and crystal pelted them. Several pieces hit my tunic, small enough that they wouldn’t even bruise. I hadn’t used enough to start a chain reaction, so the crystals were stable and wouldn’t get any bigger, but it had definitely been enough to get Magda’s attention.
“I don’t need protection,” I said calmly as splintered wood crackled at my feet and hooks began to form on the edges of the “flowers.” I stood and kicked the debris away. “If I come, it’s as your equal. Not in stature, obviously, but in skill. And I’m not your ward, and whether or not we find Mother, you will release me from my guild when this is all done, right?”
Magda looked incredulous. The guards stepped back—way back—and watched me. “I…Sorin, this isn’t a game of bandits where we go down to the lake and throw stones at the water while trying to get as muddy as possible. We have to go to outlying villages. We have to travel over a glacier since that’s the only path that connects the three countries to one another and the rest of the world. Granted, your display was impressive, but you can’t fight, and you can’t strategize; you don’t know the first thing about snow and ice, and you know virtually nothing about the political landscape.” She looked back at the remains of the chair and the palm-sized red crystals that had sprouted from the wood fragments. “Can you really control those things? Wouldn’t it be safer to be my extra set of eyes? My insight into Master Amada’s haunts?”
I walked up to her, arms wrapped across my chest, and stated, as firmly as I could, the only thing I could think of to make her to take my powders seriously.
“I have poisons. I can do things no other alchemist can do. I don’t work in transmutation. I work in solvents and reactions.”
The guards shuffled to the other side of the bar, making no attempt to hide their haste. I snorted. I hadn’t said I was going to poison them.
“Magda?” I prodded, refusing to look away from her.
Magda closed her eyes and groaned. “Poisons are an intimate weapon. Not very good against bandits.”
I bit my lip in frustration, unhooked my belt, and tossed
it onto the table with our food. “Not just poison,” I said through gritted teeth. “These extracts, they’re something we’ve never seen before. At least let me show you what they can do. More than scaring two guards and shattering a chair anyway.”
Magda stared at me. Her eyes didn’t wander, but I couldn’t help blinking at the intensity. We’d had staring contests when we were younger, but this was wholly different. Here, I was being assessed by my monarch, tried and stretched and imagined based upon childhood familiarity and one short bar conversation. It was ridiculous. I felt ridiculous. I was competent. Well, maybe not to ride a horse, but I could take care of myself, and I could do it without a sword.
Finally, Magda nodded. “One test. But this doesn’t negate the danger of the trail, or the glacier. Powders or not, you are not to even attempt leaving the trail without supervision. I’m heading high into the mountains. The terrain will be jagged, and I don’t know who will be out looking for stray guilders without an obvious means to protect themselves. Afterwards, once we find the queen and if Amada is… I’ll release you, I promise, but you have to stay alive long enough for me to do that, which means you have to listen. Okay?”
With anyone else, the jab would have hurt. With Magda, I brushed it off and nodded as I pushed past her, anticipation leaping inside me. I hadn’t won many of our arguments when we were young. This felt like a greater victory than it probably was.
“No wandering. I agree.” I gathered my belt from the table and motioned for her to follow as I headed to the center of the room.
While I walked, I fingered the contents of each pouch. I had plenty of the elf’s cup and red dragon extract for a jaw-dropping display. The mango, the yellow I’d emptied on my kidnapper, was mostly gone, but likely there were a few granules left in the pouch. It would be enough to convince, of that I was sure. If she wasn’t leaving until tomorrow, there was even a chance I might be able to make more, assuming Master Rahad let me use his laboratory and the fungi of the royal forest. He had all the other supplies I needed on hand, and I could show him how to make the bone oil too. That would definitely ensure my apprenticeship.