I swallowed my irritation as I walked back down the stairs, made myself a mug of tea and reopened the shop. No one entered, to my private relief. I tried to concentrate on reading a potions textbook, or checking the shelves once again, but my thoughts refused to focus on my work. Zadornov was upstairs, talking to my master. What was he doing? It was all I could do to keep myself from fretting openly. I didn’t want to show any kind of weakness in front of Zadornov. And yet, it would be pointless.
It was nearly twelve when I heard the sound of two men walking down the stairs. I braced myself, unsure what to expect, as they reached the bottom. Zadornov looked pleased, his face twisted into a wry smile; he nodded to me as he walked past the counter and through the door. Master Travis’s face was completely expressionless. I tried to hide my fears as he sat down on a stool and took a deep breath. I’d seen him look alarmed before, when a potion started to destabilise, but never fearful. What had they discussed, in the workroom? I suspected there was no point in trying to ask.
“It’s nearly twelve,” Master Travis said, finally. “We’ll have customers coming in.”
“Yes, Master,” I said.
Master Travis sighed. “Are there any special orders?”
I blinked. “Yes, Master. I brewed them yesterday evening. They’re in the backroom, waiting.”
“Very good.” Master Travis looked somewhat regretful. “When you’re finished with the afternoon rush, come up to my workroom. I have something for you.”
“Yes, Master,” I said. “I put chicken and rice in the preservation chamber for you, if you want to eat ...”
“I will,” Master Travis said. “Come upstairs when you’re done.”
He headed up the stairs, just as the first customer entered the shop. I sighed, then went to work. Lunchtimes were always busy, even though few of the customers could afford to stop to chat. I found what they wanted, took their money and then moved to the next customer. It helped keep my mind from wandering.
Master Travis had been dealing with Zadornov. What did it mean?
It wasn’t a relief, for once, when the lunchtime rush finally came to an end. I closed the door, primed the wards to alert me if there was someone waiting outside, then hurried up the stairs to the workroom. Master Travis had started to put together a collection of ingredients, weighing them out for a potion. I tried to figure out what he was doing, but nothing came to mind. It was tempting to speculate that he was planning to brew two or three potions at once.
“Rebecca,” Master Travis said. “I have a present for you.”
I blinked. My birthday hadn’t been that long ago. Master Travis had given me a small collection of books, almost all on potions. He did have a habit of passing his old textbooks down to me, whenever he bought the latest version, but I didn’t think he’d bought any new books over the last few months. Besides, last week he’d been complaining about the editors of The Potion Lists . They’d brought out a new edition without much in the way of new information. The irony, he’d groused after reading the book, was that if they’d waited a few months they would have been able to cram the edition with new information.
Master Travis opened a small box and held it out to me. A silver necklace, with a handful of gemstones attached to the chain ... it looked normal from a distance, as far as I could tell, but there was a faint air of magic around the metal. I looked closer and realised that one of the spells was an obscurification charm. It would be very hard for someone to actually see the necklace unless their attention was drawn to it. I knew it was there and yet my eyes kept trying to slip over the necklace as if it wasn’t there at all. It was all I could do to keep looking at it.
“I meant to give this to you earlier,” Master Travis said, regretfully. “But it took longer to make than I expected.”
I stared. “You made it?”
Master Travis snorted. “I might be a Potions Master, rather than a Forger, but I am not completely deficient in skills. Forging the necklace itself wasn’t difficult. The real trick was weaving the protective enchantments into the gemstones. They had to work together without cancelling each other out.”
I picked up the necklace and examined it carefully. The obscurification charm made it hard to see the other charms, but - bit by bit - I managed to parse them out. Protective spells, mostly. I’d been warned to be careful of charmed necklaces - there were too many horror stories about the Necklace of Queen Antonia, which turned the wearer into a helpless slave - but this one seemed safe. There didn’t seem to be anything that would interfere with my magic.
“Thank you,” I said, genuinely touched. I hung the necklace around my neck, marvelling at how the chain expanded to allow me to get it over my head, then contracted again once it was securely in place. Master Travis had done a very good job. “I’ll wear it always.”
“Make sure you do,” Master Travis said. His voice was quiet, but earnest. “You may need it.”
I shivered. Zadornov had been here. Zadornov and Reginald. I had the feeling that the necklace wasn’t so much a gift in its own right as an attempt to protect me. The spells woven into the gemstones would give me some protection. I just wasn’t sure it would be enough to protect me from either of them. It wasn’t as if Master Travis had been able to give me an Object of Power.
“Thank you,” I said. Master Travis cared. It felt good. My stepfather’s only present had been a declaration that I was a grown woman - and therefore no longer his responsibility. “I’ll do my best for you.”
Master Travis’s face darkened. “The day after tomorrow, I want you to go down to the docks,” he said. “I have a package that needs to be collected.”
I winced. “From Zadornov?”
“From Zadornov,” Master Travis confirmed. He looked as if he had bitten into something sour. I was sure he didn’t want to send me. “And I can’t go in person.”
It was hard to keep my face expressionless. Master Travis was far less recognisable than I, although I had to admit I wasn’t the only half-caste in Water Shallot. Most of them worked down at the docks, where strong arms were more important than good breeding. It was odd to realise that I was probably luckier than most of them, even though I didn’t feel lucky. I had the makings of a trade that would keep me alive, if I managed to complete an apprenticeship. And yet, walking right into Zadornov’s lair ...
But I had no choice. “Yes, Master,” I said. “I’ll do as you wish.”
Chapter Six
“Hey, lovely,” a sailor called. “You want to come and play?”
I gritted my teeth and ignored the half-drunk man as I made my way slowly down towards the docks. The street was lined with pubs, where sailors and longshoremen were drinking away their pay packets before stumbling home to their wives. I could have kicked myself for not braiding my hair, even though it was technically illegal. Everyone would have come to my defence. The sailor would have been beaten halfway to death for catcalling at a girl in pigtails.
The stench of rotting fish seemed to grow stronger as I walked past the pubs and down to the warehouses on the edge of the dockyards. There were fewer people in sight now; a handful of armed guards, a number of longshoremen working overtime, a handful of prostitutes ... I frowned as I caught sight of a woman wearing a captain’s uniform. The four men who accompanied her were clearly her subordinates. I felt a flicker of envy, wishing that I could go to sea. The sea didn’t care about your blood and neither did most of the sailors. But it wasn’t easy for a woman to climb from sailor to captain. I’d been told that very few women were even hired as midshipwomen or common sailors.
I put the thought out of my mind as I turned into an alleyway, cursing under my breath. I’d been warned, time and time again, not to go into alleyways, not when people with bad intentions might be waiting. But Zadornov’s instructions had been quite clear. I readied what little magic I had as the darkness enfolded me, bracing myself for attack as my eyes accustomed themselves to the darkness, but there was nothing ... save for a single war
ehouse door. It was completely unmarked. I paused, wondering if I’d reached the right address, then knocked on the metal door. It opened a moment later, revealing two armed guards. They both carried spellcasters as well as swords.
“Well,” one guard said. He leered cheerfully at me. “And who might you be?”
“She’s here to see the boss, fool,” the second guard said. He was a walking slab of muscle, just like his friend, but at least he seemed to have a working brain. “We were told she’d be coming.”
“Oh, yeah,” the first guard said. “But we have to search her first.”
I took a step backwards. “Zadornov said ...”
“The boss said that no one gets to enter without being searched,” the second guard told me, sharply. “But don’t worry. It won’t be that bad.”
“Unless we make it bad,” the first guard said. “How about it, honey?”
The second guard elbowed him, none too gently, then stepped forward and frisked me with calm efficiency. His eyes just seemed to slide over the necklace, as if it wasn’t there for him. Perhaps it wasn’t. I’d tried to show it to Ginny, but she hadn’t been able to see the necklace unless I called her attention to it. She’d practically forgotten it existed as soon as she looked away. The guard seemed to have the same problem. I was surprised. Surely, they’d have been trained to watch for obscurification charms.
“This way,” the guard said, when he’d finished. “I’ll take you to the boss.”
I followed him through an interior door and into a maze of corridors. The warehouse wasn’t a warehouse at all, not on the inside. It felt more like an apartment block, although there was hardly anyone in sight. I found it hard to believe that a man like Zadornov would live in such a place, even though I could see some advantages to his location. The City Guard rarely patrolled the dockyards. They knew better than to show themselves unless they came in force. Even the Kingsmen would think twice before venturing onto the docks. They represented authority, and authority was something most of the inhabitants hated.
The guard led me through a door and into a large room. It would have been a nice room, I thought, if it hadn’t been crammed with couches and the air hadn’t been thick with sweet smoke. A chill rang down my spine as I realised what was happening. The men lying on the couches, breathing deeply from long pipes, were addicts, enslaved to Opium or Cocaine or whatever else they were smoking. Master Travis had warned me, more than once, that it was terrifyingly easy to brew a potion that would addict the drinker with only a single drink or two. Opium and Cocaine, shipped from the Far East, weren’t quite as bad, but they were dangerous. A man could go into a drug den on Monday and emerge on Friday, completely convinced that it had only been a few hours. I tried not to look at the withered men as we passed. They were so out of it that their eyes didn’t follow me.
I took a deep breath as soon as we left the smokers behind, relieved beyond measure that the wards kept the smell confined to the room. I was going to have to wash my clothes - and hair - thoroughly the minute I got home, before Master Travis smelled the drug on me. I’d known servants who’d been dismissed for visiting drug dens, even if they hadn’t inhaled. Master Travis wouldn’t be pleased, even if he didn’t dismiss me. The risk of contaminating the potions I would be brewing tomorrow was too high. Perhaps it would be better if I threw the tattered dress out completely. It wasn’t as if it had cost me a hundred gold coins.
We stopped in front of a wooden door. The guard knocked, then said something in a language I didn’t recognise. The door opened a second later, revealing a comfortable sitting room. Zadornov was seated in an armchair, reading a broadsheet. A light-skinned woman was standing behind him, her arms clasped in front of her. She was dressed as a servant, yet there was something about her that bothered me. I couldn’t put my finger on it.
“Ah, Rebecca,” Zadornov said. He gave me a warm smile. “Come on in, please. Tea or coffee?”
I shook my head as the guard nudged me into the room. I knew better than to drink anything Zadornov’s men had prepared, even though I had no reason to think he’d try to drug me. It was all too easy to slip a truth potion - or something nastier - into a mug of tea, one carefully brewed to be tasteless. Zadornov had to be curious about why Master Travis wanted ... well, whatever he wanted. And I wasn’t sure what Zadornov had demanded in return.
“Take a seat,” Zadornov said. It was an order, however kindly phrased. “We have much to discuss.”
I sat in an armchair, wishing it wasn’t so comfortable. I needed all my senses about me. “I don’t have any authority to discuss business with you.”
“Oh, I know that ,” Zadornov said. “I was wondering what you intended to do after your service ended.”
I blinked. That was the last question I’d expected. “I don’t have any real plans,” I said, carefully. I wasn’t about to share my hopes and dreams with him. “It depends on when I’m released from service.”
“Indeed,” Zadornov said. “A pretty and charming - and intelligent - girl like yourself always has options.”
“Maybe,” I said. There were options, but not many of them. If I completed an apprenticeship, I would have a chance to move up in the world; if I didn’t, for whatever reason, I would spend the rest of my life in Water Shallot. “I do have options.”
“I hear you’re a skilled brewer,” Zadornov said. “And that you brew most of the potions in your shop.”
“Not most of them,” I said, a little flattered despite myself. “I brew the basics. Master Travis handles the more complex potions.”
“It isn’t something to sniff at,” Zadornov said. “A skilled brewer can go a long way.”
“Yes,” I said. A thought crossed my mind. If Zadornov knew I was a brewer ... who had told him? Clive? Or Master Travis? It wasn’t as if I was allowed to put my name on the bottles, once they were filled and sealed. “I hope to go a very long way indeed.”
Right out of Water Shallot , I added, silently. Zadornov might be playing the genial uncle, but I couldn’t allow myself to get too comfortable. And a very long way from you .
Zadornov smiled at me. “Would you like a job?”
I blinked. “A job?”
“I need a skilled brewer, one who knows not to ask too many questions,” Zadornov said, calmly. “And I would be quite happy to overlook any ... irregularities in your qualifications.”
I was surprised he was so ... overt about his work, although neither of us had any illusions about just what he did for a living. The hell of it was that it was tempting. If I had a secure place, and money, I could forge a life for myself. I might even be able to pay for a proper apprenticeship, if Master Travis refused to take me on as a student. But it would come at a high price. I had no illusions about just what Zadornov would expect me to brew. There were potions - and drugs - that made Cocaine and Opium look harmless. And even if he didn’t want me to brew drugs, he’d want me to brew potions he could use to expand his options. I dreaded to think what he could do with some of the recipes in Master Travis’s textbooks. Some of the potions were really dangerous.
“It would have to wait until I was released from service,” I said, slowly. I wanted to throw the offer back in his face, but I knew better. Zadornov’s goons would kill me - or worse - if I offended their master. “Right now, I am Master Travis’s girl.”
“Indeed,” Zadornov said. “But you will have time to decide, while you wait to be released.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, with the private thought that I would sooner marry Clive than work for Zadornov. “I’ll have time to decide.”
Zadornov must have sent a signal, probably though the wards, as the door opened a moment later. I looked up to see a pretty girl, her face utterly expressionless, carrying a large wooden box. Her eyes met mine, just for a second; I recoiled at the sheer hopelessness in her gaze. She placed the box on the table, dropped a curtsey to Zadornov and retreated as silently as she’d come. The door closed behind her with an audible thud .
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“Now, let us see,” Zadornov said. He stood and strode over to the table. “You do know what you’re buying, don’t you?”
The Alchemist's Apprentice Page 6