“I know,” said Amethyst, embarrassed. “It just took me by surprise is all. He was not a good person. He attacked me at the end of our trial.”
“Well, it better untake you by surprise,” Myrene grumbled, sinking back down into the water. “Rowan is one of the nicest people you'll meet in this frozen wasteland.”
Rowan walked back to the edge of the pool and gently stepped into the water. He made his way over to Amethyst and held his hand out to her. “I know you've heard my name, but I'd like to introduce myself. My name is Rowan. I am the apprentice to Master Malkavius.”
Sheepishly, Amethyst shook his hand. “My name is Amethyst. I am Giriraj's apprentice.” When he released her hand, she crossed her arms back over her chest. “I didn't mean to offend you. I'm... not used to bathing around other people.”
“Oh, let your tits out, girl, nobody cares,” groaned Myrene. “Not even Rowan. He likes boys. You're safe around him.”
Amethyst looked up at Rowan. “You... what?”
The young man scowled at Myrene. “I like to be the one to say that,” he said admonishingly.
“Yeah, well, you weren't getting around to it, and she was acting like you were gonna start suckling any second.”
Rowan shook his head, then pointed at Nasrin, still looking at Amethyst. “Would you like some wine?”
“Yes, I would,” Amethyst said, nodding vigorously.
They made their way out of the water and sat down next to Nasrin at the edge of the bath. At first, Amethyst kept her knees tightly together, sitting stiffly on the step, but as the wine and conversation flowed, she relaxed. The water was warm and soothing, the wine was sweet, and the company was a lot more enjoyable than she had expected it to be.
Myrene told a story about when she was chosen to be Titus's apprentice, flamboyantly acting out the parts in the shallow water. “So, we got to the end, and I was sure I didn't have it. That little girl from the Burning Sands, she was just that much better at controlling the flames than I was, I was certain Titus was gonna pick her. And he did!” She slumped her shoulders, and splashed through the shallows, looking dejected. “So I was walking back to my tent, thinking I was gonna have to march my sweet ass all the way back to Schwartzstieg, and I start packing up my things.”
She turned to face the others, taking a drink of her wine. “So I get most of the way through and – get this – Titus comes to my tent! He said that the other girl, Arenda or Arula or something, refused to agree to be his apprentice, and he wanted me in her place! So, of course, I said yes!”
Amethyst furrowed her brow. “Why did she say no? Did you ever find out?”
“Apparently she didn't want to shag him. I mean, I understand, but really? You're going to turn down the Master of Fire over a little prick between your legs?” Myrene pointed at Amethyst. “I mean, you might have, in that situation, but Titus isn't that bad on the eyes, really, and he can go for a while too.”
She shook her head and drained her goblet. She had already had four or five, while Amethyst was on her second. “Sometimes he's just a bit too much, yaknow? I just want to sleep and he's ready for it.” She held up her arms, flexing her muscles. “I mean, I understand, but still, a girl needs her rest.”
The others laughed, and even Amethyst had to chuckle. Once she became accustomed to Myrene's fiery attitude, she was a fun person to be around.
Myrene pointed at Nasrin. “What about Farrokh? He's really quiet. What is he like in bed?”
Shaking her head, Nasrin wobbled slightly, almost spilling her wine. “Oh, he's simple enough to keep happy. He mostly just wants to hold me, sometimes we do more. He's very gentle.”
“Often, I wonder if Malkavius is as interested in it as I am,” said Rowan. “Maybe since he's got his own, mine doesn't hold the same mystique.” He shrugged. “He is five hundred years old. Maybe age has something to do with it.”
Myrene plopped down on the step next to Amethyst, splashing her. “Nah, can't be that. Giriraj is as old as the dirt he commands, and he was still enough to scare the little princess away.”
Steeling herself to keep her secret, Amethyst took another drink from her goblet. “He's, well, he's fine. I don't really have a lot to compare to.”
“Ooh, fresh meat! Did you still have your cherry when you got here? I gave mine away a while ago, never missed it.”
Amethyst blushed, the wine making her lightheaded. “Well, I mean, he was my first. He wasn't really gentle. He wanted me to... you know, with my mouth first.”
“They all do,” said Nasrin as she rolled her eyes.
Rowan raised an eyebrow. “What's wrong with that?”
“Shut up! Let the elf girl talk!” Myrene swatted at the young man, making him laugh.
Amethyst pictured Giriraj on the bed with the golem. “After that, he had me on my back, then he made me roll over and, well, that's how he finished.” She took a long drink from her goblet and sighed. “It took about twenty minutes or so.”
Myrene arched her brows. “How he finished? Oh, you poor dear.”
“If Farrokh is too tired to take his time, I just wait for him to fall asleep and do it myself.” Nasrin said as she refilled everyone's goblets.
“Titus likes to watch, so I'm always guaranteed a good time,” said Myrene, kicking her long legs in the warm bath.
Amethyst shakily rose to her feet, holding her goblet up to keep it from tipping. “Well, ladies and gentleman,” she said, “I do believe I am drunk. I'm going to go back to my chamber, I think, and get some rest.”
Myrene reached up and slapped her on the backside, making Amethyst arch her back, almost spilling her drink. “You're no fun!” she said. “Last time we got Rowan drunk, we almost got him to shag Nasrin!”
The Apprentice of Order laughed, shaking her head. “He wasn't as close as you thought, Myrene.” She held a hand up to Amethyst. “Do you have to go? I just refilled your cup!”
Putting the goblet to her lips, Amethyst stood in the knee-deep water and tipped the wine back, draining it all in one drought while Myrene cheered. She handed the goblet to Nasrin, wobbling slightly.
“If I stay too much longer,” she said, “then I think I won't find my way back to Giriraj's chambers, and he would be quite cross.” She stumbled her way across the pool and made her way to the washroom. She stopped at the door, turned back, and waved. The others waved back, Myrene blowing her a kiss and a wink, smiling a dazzling smile at Amethyst before the young elf maiden ducked through the washroom door.
As soon as she was out of sight, Amethyst stood up straight, her wobbling and weaving gone. She was intoxicated, yes, but she wasn't as drunk as she had been acting.
She took her garments from the rack. Immediately, she noticed that they were not the same ones she had been wearing – this set was clean and unworn, and her undergarments had been replaced with a new set. Myrene's clothes were no longer on the floor, and her bucket was gone as well. In their place, a set of crimson robes, the same design as Amethyst's clothes, were neatly folded on the shelf.
She shook her head and quickly dressed, then headed for Giriraj's chambers. While she had enjoyed the company, the topic was getting a bit too close to her secret for her comfort. The less she had to say about it, the better.
By the gods... did anyone in the Citadel talk about anything other than sex?
~~~
Amethyst had fallen asleep on the couch when Giriraj woke her. She looked about for a moment, startled, before meeting his eyes.
“You had a long day, I take it?” he asked her.
“I am sorry, Master,” she said, sitting up and closing the book she had been reading. “I went to the bath like you said, and I think I drank too much wine.”
He shook his head. “Overindulgence is a sign of a lazy wit. You will, in the future, limit yourself to one cup.”
She nodded, chagrined. “Yes, Master Giriraj.”
“Now, what did you learn today?”
Amethyst rubbed the sleep out of
her eyes and opened the book again. “I read half of this book. It is concerning-”
“I know what it is concerning. I wrote that book seven hundred years ago. I didn't ask you what you read, I asked you what you learned.”
She took a deep breath, anxiety gripping her stomach. “I learned that part of what turns limestone into marble is not only heat but pressure. The easiest way to achieve this is to use your energy to exert extreme pressure while heating the stone. It takes an enormous amount of energy to convert the material in this manner, and is thus impractical for converting large amounts of limestone.”
Giriraj nodded, crossing his arms. “Go on.”
She swallowed, her mouth dry. “I also learned that ore can be turned into iron, and iron can be turned into steel, but it is very difficult. It is more efficient to allow the blacksmiths to do it in their mundane way while conserving your energy for more important things.”
“So you learned something you can't do, and something you shouldn't do.”
She looked up at him, her eyes wide. “Yes, Master.”
“You are not here for me to teach you what not to do, or what you can't do, you are here to discover what you can do!” he snapped.
Amethyst shrank away from him, pulling her knees up to her chest.
He stood over her, scowling before he turned away and sighed. “I am sorry. I shouldn't have shouted. I do not like to see my apprentice passed out drunk when she should have been studying. I expect much more than that from you.”
Amethyst nodded, her heart racing. “It will not happen again, Master.”
He nodded. “See that it doesn't.” He bowed his head. “You slept through supper.”
“I am sorry.”
Giriraj scoffed. “You're the one who will be hungry, not me.” He gestured to his chamber. “Come. Lie with me. I am in need of some comfort. When we are finished, you can go get some food.”
She froze, racking her mind for any reason to be able to deny him without making him angry. “Master, forgive me, but I am sore from last night.”
He turned to look at her, furrowing his brow. “Really?”
“It was... my first,” she said, praying to whatever god that he would not insist. She didn't know if she would be able to have time to heat the clay to her temperature, even if he let her go back to her room.
“Very well. Not tonight then,” he said quietly. “We will give you some time to recover.”
He walked to the door of his chamber, then turned to her again. “I may have a task for you,” he said. “My affairs here will keep me occupied for much longer than I had anticipated. I will need a presence to monitor some situations close to Mount Stromgard in the near future. If I find myself unable to control both things at once, I will send you to the mountain to watch Valtheim for me.”
Amethyst sat up. “What is happening at Valtheim?”
“Brynjar is already sick. Adrik has wasted no time in laying low the king of the Northlands.”
Chapter Seventeen
Full Planting Moon, Year 4368
The rushing wind dissipated, leaving Amethyst standing alone in the dining chamber of Mount Stromgard. She was less disoriented this time; maybe she was getting used to traveling by magic. She hoisted her pack to her shoulder. The rest of what had been sent with her could wait; she had what she needed with her. It was late, and she was hungry.
She moved through the silent passages and rooms. Though she knew they would be empty, she still felt the need to check everything before she settled herself into the library and Giriraj's chambers. It was almost as if she was the Master of Earth while she was here alone.
The bath chamber, library, guest room, and ritual chamber were all just as she had left them the week before. She pushed open the door to Giriraj's study and stepped inside.
“Hello, Your Grace.”
She screamed and dropped her pack, the unexpected voice scaring her so badly that she almost fell. She gripped the door frame and stared at Rasul, her heart beating in her chest so hard she feared it might break a rib.
Rasul held up his hands, just as startled by her scream as she had been by his greeting. “Whoah! Whoah! It's just me!”
“By all the gods, Rasul, what in the eight hells?” she hissed, clutching her chest with one hand. “What are you doing here so early?”
“I made exceptionally good time climbing the mountain, so instead of waiting at the Temple of the Summit, I came up. I arrived early this morning.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you all right?”
She scooped up her pack. “I'll be fine,” she said, still slightly out of breath, and more than a little irritated. “You know, you could just travel by magic like the rest of us do.” She huffed, catching her breath. “Did you get word to my father?”
Rasul stepped out from behind Giriraj's desk and sat down in the chair used when the Master of Earth had visitors. “I don't always have the luxury of privacy or acceptance when it comes to the practice of our art. And yes, I spoke to your father. He was overjoyed to hear from you, but he controlled himself, as he does.”
“I'm sure,” she said, stepping into Giriraj's bedchamber to drop off her pack. When she was alone at the mountain stronghold, she used his bedroom instead of her own – his bed was infinitely more comfortable, as well as being right next to the library and ritual chamber, where she spent most of her time.
“He looks forward to your visit next week. He told me to tell you that your chambers have been preserved exactly how you left them,” Rasul called out to her from the other room.
“Does he know how I'll be arriving?” she asked, returning to the study.
“He does. He said he will have the secondary meeting hall locked from the inside so that it will not be disturbed, and you can arrive without undue attention.”
“Good.” She sat down in Giriraj's seat.
“So,” Rasul said conversationally. “How is our master?”
Amethyst sighed. “He is well, if a bit poorly tempered. Life in the Citadel does not suit him.” She had just spent seven days tending to him, and he had been especially demanding. Usually, she could get by with just sending her golem twice during her weekly visits, but he had requested her presence every single night, so she had lost quite a bit of sleep in cleaning her golem and making sure that she stayed out of sight during their evening trysts.
“He was never much for socializing,” said Rasul, chuckling. “He does well if the Masters come to him, but when he has to go to them, he is out of his element, as it were. He will feel better, and we can all rest easier once he can come home.”
“No truer words were ever spoken,” she said, resting back in the chair.
“Oh, I took the liberty of gathering some food for you before the table cleared itself from the dining chamber,” he said, pointing to a bowl of stew and some bread on a table to the side. “It got cold while it waited for you, I think.”
“It'll be fine. Thank you.”
Rasul sat quietly, looking at Amethyst.
She raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Are you doing all right?”
“Yes... why?”
“It's nothing. Just a feeling, is all.” He stood up and pushed the chair back to the desk. “It's late, Your Grace, and you're tired. I'll take the guest room this evening. I will see you in the morning. We can set up the rest of the crystals tomorrow.”
“Yes, of course. Goodnight. Rest well.”
Rasul closed the door behind himself. She flopped back in the chair and groaned, rubbing her eyes. The next week couldn't go by fast enough. She would be splitting her time between setting up small devices that could detect the balance of energies at specific points around the Northlands, keeping the mountain stronghold clean and orderly, and her studies. Giriraj had given her several challenges that he wanted her to work towards during her time away from the Citadel, as well as a task when she returned to Lonwick.
He wanted her to reopen the catacombs under the castle to use as her lab
oratory while she was visiting with her father. She had a small map that would allow her to find her way through the maze of tunnels that snaked through the rocky outcropping the castle had been built upon. Once she was able to locate it and unlock his seal, she would have access to his long-abandoned workshop, where she could practice her skills in private, away from the curious, prying eyes of the clergy.
Amethyst took the bowl of stew and bread that Rasul had set aside for her and brought it back to the desk. She picked up a small sphere of obsidian that Giriraj kept at his desk; heating it was the work of a moment, and she dropped it into her stew to warm it. When she was finished eating, Amethyst wiped it off with a rag and set it back on the small wooden pedestal. Leaving the bowl on the desk, she went into Giriraj's room and closed the door behind her.
She didn't bother changing out of her clothes before she flopped down on his bed. The constant state of travel she had been in for the last month and a half had left her exhausted. Trying to balance her tasks at Mount Stromgard as well as keeping Giriraj happy and advancing in her studies should have been easier to handle, but she felt like she could never really get settled anywhere. As soon as she got her feet underneath her, she had to move again.
She tugged a quilt over herself and wrapped her arms around a pillow. Tomorrow was going to come far too early for her tastes.
~~~
2nd Waning Planting Moon, Year 4368
Rasul stepped back from the wooden stake that he had driven into the ground, wiping sweat from his brow. “Alright,” he said. “It's ready.”
Amethyst picked up the silver device and lugged it to where Rasul was working. Settling the heavy piece of metal over the wood, she secured it in place by pushing a metal spike into the top of the stake. The frame was simple in its design; a silver tube topped by a round divot with eight pins sticking out from the sides. At the end of each pin was a small ring. Once she had the contraption in place, she took a leather bundle from her pack and unrolled it on the ground in front of her.
There were eight pockets inside the bundle, each containing three crystals. Each pocket was tooled with the symbol of an element, designating the alignment of the crystals inside. One by one, in order, she set them into their respective rings, until there was a circle of quartz crystals pointing to the sky. Removing a pouch from her backpack, she shook a small sphere of selenite into her hand and set it in the divot on top of the tube.
Snowfall Page 29