by Duncan Pile
“New type of tea plant,” he said, smudging soil across his face with the back of a gloved hand. “You can steep the flowers as well as the leaves. Hephistole thinks the blossoms will hold enchantment well while they grow.”
“Oh right, tea” Rimulth said, feigning enthusiasm. He hadn’t taken to tea, a strange hot drink made from the leaves of these plants. Rimulth found it a bit tasteless, and didn’t particularly appreciate the variation Gaspi seemed to perceive in the different brews. In the mountains they mainly just drank crystal clear water from the spring. In autumn the Durenberry bushes were heavy with fruit that could be pressed, making a sharp juice that all mothers insisted was the cure for colds and coughs, and throughout the year the men drank fern beer and whisky. It was a simple diet - water most of the time, supplemented by drinks with a proper kick. Tea hovered somewhere between the two and so didn’t appeal to him.
Gaspi laughed at his failed attempt at showing an interest. “Not your thing eh?” he said with good humour.
“Er…maybe I will grow to like it,” Rimulth said, flushing and avoiding Gaspi’s gaze. Gaspi and his friends had been so good to him, and he didn’t want to offend them or seem ungrateful in any way.
“Rimulth you don’t have to like the things I like,” Gaspi said, seeing straight to the heart of his feelings.
Rimulth looked up, smiling shyly. “I don’t want to seem rude.”
“That’s not how it works around here,” Gaspi explained. “No-one will be offended if you don’t like something. Just relax and be yourself mate.”
“Okay,” Rimulth said. Plainsdweller ways were hard to get used to. “So what else are you growing here?” he asked.
“You really want to know?” Gaspi asked.
“Yes, honestly.”
“Lots of things,” Gaspi said with a smile, his eyes flitting over the growing plants in front of him. He reached out and cupped a tightly furled bud that sat in the middle of long, spiky leaves. “This is a desert plant from Kaza. It’s pretty rare even there, growing wild in the hot sands, and its flowers are said to have curative properties for combating even the most deadly poisons. The chief healer wants to know if it’s true or just a myth, so Hephistole is growing a few to test out.”
“That sounds more useful than tea,” Rimulth said, earning a grunt from Gaspi.
“It’ll be dangerous to test though, as magic can only tell us so much without understanding its physical properties. To really find out what it can do we need to make an extract from the petals and then use it to treat someone who’s been poisoned.”
“So you have to wait for someone to get poisoned to test it out?” Rimulth asked.
“We could do that,” Gaspi answered. “But how often does someone get poisoned, even in a city the size of Helioport? Someone might volunteer to be poisoned, if the poison is minor and the reward is big enough.”
“You mean the college would pay someone to get poisoned?” Rimulth asked incredulously.
“Yeah I suppose,” Gaspi answered.
“Plainsdwellers!” Rimulth muttered in disbelief.
Gaspi laughed. “That’s better. Okay I’m just about done here. Wanna go find the others?”
“Yes,” Rimulth answered. “I think Talmo and Taurnil are on duty though.”
“I know where Emmy and Lydia are,” Gaspi responded, pulling off his gloves.
“You’ve got mud on your face,” Rimulth said.
“Oh thanks,” Gaspi responded, wiping the wrong cheek with the back of his hand.
“Other side,” Rimulth said.
“Oh,” Gaspi said, cleaning the other side instead, but leaving about half the soil still there. “Did I get it?”
“Yes,” Rimulth answered, keeping a straight face. Gaspi said to relax and be himself, after all.
“Let’s get going then,” Gaspi said, and they walked out along the path. When they reached the door, he held it open, put two fingers in his mouth and whistled noisily. Loreill came soaring out of the treetops in a vivid flash of green light. He zipped along just above the ground and turned into a ferret as he crossed the threshold.
The cold winter air was a shock after the cultivated warmth of the Orangery, and Rimulth pulled his furs tight around him. “Where are we going?” he asked when it became clear they weren’t going back to the tower.
“Library,” Gaspi answered. The library was another of the campus’s impressive buildings. Shaped like a giant rose in bloom, it was constructed from pale pink stone, each petal holding alcoves that looked out over the city. It stood proud above most of the other buildings on campus, and it was the only place other than the tower that used transporters. Rimulth had never been inside it before and was pleased to get a chance to look around.
“Lydia’s on a mad one about the sight,” Gaspi continued. “Professor Worrick foresaw that the air spirit would bond with you, and ever since she found that out, she’s been desperate to work out why she didn’t have the same premonition.”
“Why does it matter so much?” Rimulth asked.
“It’s something to do with being a gypsy,” Gaspi answered. “Apparently her mother has the gift, and her grandmother before her. It’s something gypsies take pretty seriously. Kind of like how every village in the mountains I grew up in has a healer, every family of gypsies has someone with the sight. I guess she is proud of it and doesn’t want to lose her gift.”
Rimulth found that easy to understand. He was happy to learn some magic while he was here in Helioport but in essence he was still a shaman and always would be.
“Could she lose her gift?” he asked.
“I dunno,” Gaspi answered. “She’s not had the sight very often since learning magic. Apparently Professor Worrick said that the gift might come out less frequently if her powers were being used in other ways.”
“But he’s a practicing magician, and he still predicted the air spirit’s choice,” Rimulth said, confused.
“I think that’s exactly what’s got her worrying,” Gaspi said, just as they arrived at the entrance to the library.
They stepped in through the large double doors, carved like two halves of a giant rose, and found themselves in a circular entrance hall, warm light beaming from a single, large globe-light that swirled perpetually in the centre of the room. Unlike the Atrium in the tower, there was no receptionist and little room for anything except the plinths. Magicians kept appearing on the five transporters and heading out the doorway, variously burdened by piles of scrolls and books. An old magician popped into view on the plinth closest to them. He was scruffily attired in faded green robes, with tufts of white hair sticking out at random from his balding pate. He was struggling with a particularly large armful of scrolls, muttering to himself as he stepped off the plinth. Catching his foot on the hem of his robes, he fell forward, scrolls spilling everywhere as he threw his arms out to catch himself.
Rimulth reached out a hand to try and stop him falling over but Gaspi was way ahead of him, throwing out an air shield that caught the old man mid-fall and slowly lifted to land him back to his feet. The old magician patted himself down in surprise, making sure he was alright. Straightening himself, he fixed Gaspi with a hard stare, one bushy brow raised fiercely over a slate grey eye.
“It’s polite to ask before casting a spell on someone,” he said in clipped tones.
Gaspi looked shocked. “Well, er, did you want me to let you fall?” he asked, nonplussed.
“Nevermind!” the old man snapped, summoning his scattered scrolls to his side with a whip-like motion of his arm. “I suppose I should say thank you. Good day!” he added, and with that he stalked out of the room. Gaspi took a deep breath and let it go.
“You were only trying to help him,” Rimulth said, indignant on his friend’s behalf.
“I know, but there’s no point getting annoyed about it,” Gaspi said.
“Why didn’t you say something?” Rimulth asked. In the mountains, you’d never speak rudely to an elder, but here in
the city things were done differently most of the time. From what he’d seen so far, he would have expected Gaspi to say something if anyone was rude to him like that.
“I would have done last year,” Gaspi said. “But I learned a lot this summer about how to handle myself, and besides, I have a short temper and Emmy gets disappointed if I get too wound up about stuff like this. She’d say he was probably just having a bad day or something.”
Rimulth digested this in silence. He still had a lot to learn about plainsdwellers. On the one hand, they spoke to their elders in a way he found shocking, but on the other hand, they stopped to consider things he wouldn’t even begin to contemplate.
“Come on, it’s this plinth.” Gaspi said, leading him and Loreill to the fourth glowing stone platform from the left. Each plinth had an ornate brass plaque above it, and amidst the words Rimulth couldn’t decipher, the word “tribal” leapt out at him.
“Gaspi what does this sign say?” he asked excitedly.
“Traditional Practices: Herbs and Healing, Foresight, Tribal Magic,” he answered. Rimulth’s heart almost skipped a beat with excitement. Some of his hard work was starting to pay off!
“I knew it said tribal,” he said excitedly. “I mean, I could read it!”
“Good going,” Gaspi said, clapping him on the back. “When you can read more fluently, this will be the section of the library you’ll be studying in.”
Greatly cheered by his small victory, Rimulth stepped onto the plinth. “Come on then,” he said and Gaspi stepped up beside him.
“Traditional Practices,” Gaspi said, and moments later they were there, in an expansive, open floor that contained dozens of shelving units and what must have been thousands of books. There were five “petals” around the circumference of the floor, each of which formed a large alcove with tables and chairs for people to study at. Large windows made of the same clear glass as the one in the Observatory revealed dramatic vistas of the city. Rimulth tagged along behind Gaspi, staring in amazement at the rows and rows of bookshelves, stuffed to overflowing with the varicoloured bindings of tomes he wasn’t able to read. He was so distracted that he walked straight into one of the bookshelves. Volumes tumbling noisily to the floor, earning him the annoyed glances of people studying quietly in the alcoves.
Gaspi came back and helped him pick up the books he’d spilt. “You caught that old man’s disease?” he asked quietly. Rimulth choked on a laugh, trying to keep from annoying the library’s other inhabitants even more than he already had. “Come on,” Gaspi said, pulling him to his feet.
They found the girls in the fifth petal. Lydia was frowning intensely at a scroll she had propped open in front of her, and Emmy was staring out of the window, looking bored. Seeing them as they approached, she sprang out of her seat and hurried over. Loreill took off across the floor, joining Lilly and the fire spirit where they lay curled up by the window. Emmy gave Gaspi an enthusiastic kiss and Rimulth a hug, another plainsdweller habit he was struggling to get used to. The elementals were chirruping their own greetings, earning them loud tutting sounds from nearby tables.
“Keep it down please,” a gruff voice sounded from round the corner.
Emmy grinned and pulled Gaspi into the alcove, holding a finger to her lips. The elementals had finished greeting each other, and quietened down too. Rimulth pulled up a chair next to Lydia and Gaspi sat down with Emmy.
“So how’s it going?” Gaspi asked.
Lydia leaned back from the scroll in disgust.
“Not good,” she answered in hushed tones, clearly frustrated. “I don’t understand why Professor Worrick can still see but I can’t.”
Rimulth didn’t know what to say that might help, so he just kept quiet.
“When was the last time you saw?” Gaspi asked.
“Months ago!” she whispered in disgust. “I saw a couple of things about me and Taurnil,” she expanded, and then stopped, flushing beneath her dark complexion. “There’s been nothing since then.”
“Have you stopped doing as much magic?” Gaspi asked. “You said you were going to cut back on spell casting in case it helped you start to see again.”
Lydia grimaced “I tried but how can I? I’m training to be a magician!” she said, frustration making her raise her voice above a whisper, earning her another loud “shush” from round the corner. Everyone fell silent, not knowing what to say.
Suddenly Rimulth did know what to say.
“Perhaps this is happening for a reason,” he said quietly, pausing uncertainly in case Lydia didn’t want to hear his opinion. He still felt awkward around the girls, and particularly around Lydia, who was quite formidable!
“Go on,” she said, looking at him intently.
“If Professor Worrick can still see despite using his powers regularly, then that should be the same with you. Maybe your gift will come out again when the time is right.”
“Maybe,” she echoed doubtfully.
“I know it’s important to you to be a seer,” he continued, gaining in confidence. Somehow he just knew he was speaking the truth. “Just like it’s important to me to be a shaman, but maybe the magic uses us as it knows best. I can’t return to the mountains as soon as I’d like because I’ve been chosen by the air spirit, and maybe it’s the same for you. The magic is working its way through you in the best possible way right now, and perhaps you could just give in and let it happen.”
Lydia was looking at him incredulously, and he instantly regretted being so forthright. “That’s pretty profound,” she said at last, and Rimulth breathed a sigh of relief.
“Yeah that was pretty good mate,” Gaspi said, looking at him speculatively. “How did you work that out?”
“I don’t know,” Rimulth answered honestly. “I just suddenly knew it was true.”
“Fair enough,” Gaspi said, and Lydia stood up, packing up her scrolls with a much lighter expression than she’d had previously.
“Thanks Rimulth,” she said, a smile lighting up features that struck him in that moment as being extraordinarily beautiful.
“Does that mean we can go?” Emea asked, like a child who couldn’t quite believe she’s being let out of school early.
Lydia laughed quietly and kissed her on the cheek. “You’ve been very patient Emmy. Consider it payback for all those games of koshta! But yes, I’m done now. Let’s go,” she said, and they pulled on their cloaks. Rimulth, who didn’t generally wear his cloak, put his outer furs back on. The elementals, seeing them getting ready to depart, clambered to all fours and stretched, Lilly’s chirrups and the fire spirit’s snort earning them further unwanted attention. A tall boy stepped out from behind a row of shelves. Rimulth recognised him as Everand. There had been some kind of issue with him and Gaspi but no-one had explained it to him properly and he hadn’t thought to ask.
“Some of us are trying to study,” the broad-shouldered boy said haughtily, making no attempt to lower his voice.
“Shut it Everand!” Gaspi snapped. “We’re going now anyway so we won’t disturb you any longer.”
“Don’t you tell me to shut it!” Everand said angrily. Gaspi looked like he wanted to punch him.
“Forget it!” Gaspi hissed, stalking past Everand as he headed for the exit.
“That’s right, get out of here,” Everand announced, “and take your demons with you!”
Gaspi wheeled back. “You what?” he snarled, taking a step back in Everand’s direction.
“Gaspi, leave it!” Emea said. She whirled back to the larger boy, whose chest was rising up and down rapidly, his face flushed with anger and something else Rimulth couldn’t identify. She took three long strides up to him, looking up into his face with cold eyes.
“Why are you acting like this? You’re better than that,” she said. Everand didn’t say anything, his gaze slipping to the elementals, eyeing them with dark distrust. Emmy’s face hardened as she saw his reaction. “Just so you know,” she said. “If you call them demons again, I won�
��t be asking Gaspi to hold back.” With that, she turned her back on him and walking towards the plinth.
She grabbed Gaspi’s arm as she passed him, anger evident in her every movement. Rimulth followed with Lydia and the spirits, who gave Everand a wide berth. When they all stood on the transporter, Gaspi spoke the word of command and they appeared moments later in the entrance hall.
“How dare he?” Emmy asked incredulously as they stepped off the plinth. “Demons!”
“He’s an idiot,” Lydia spat with uncharacteristic venom. Rimulth noticed that Gaspi didn’t say anything, but if he wasn’t mistaken, he looked more frustrated than angry. As they stepped out into the open air, a loud cry sounded from above, and the air spirit came spiralling down from the sky in hawk form. Rimulth stretched out his arm and it landed, curling its talons around his thick furs.
Rimulth could tell the spirit was disturbed. During the confrontation in the library, it had sensed the agitation of the other spirits, and now that it was reunited with them, they were conferring noisily, flooding their bond-mates with their emotions. Rimulth looked at the others and could see that they were feeling it too. The spirits were angry, especially the fire spirit, but as they communed the emotions flooding through the bond slowly changed from fury to resignation and finally to cold indifference. The fact that some humans saw them as demons was deeply offensive to them, but if they became agitated by it, it would distract from what they were here for. All four spirits seemed to agree with that, and soon the emotions of the bond reverted to their usual steady background hum. Rimulth and his friends exchanged looks that all said the same thing – none of them would be so passive about it if it happened again. Emea still had fire in her eyes.