“Yes, sir,” said Eynon, rolling his head back to crack his neck. It had gotten stiff when he’d been bent over the wax disk, carving the design.
“Fill the mold halfway up with plaster,” said Damon. Eynon poured white mud into the square wooden form and waited to be told what to do next.
“Put your carved wax model in the hardening mixture, but don’t push it down too far,” instructed Damon.
Eynon complied, using his waning attention, and stepped back while Damon added wax sprue cones where the gold would be poured.
“Now pour in the rest of the plaster,” said Damon. “Try not to slop any on the table—or yourself.”
Eynon leaned close to the mold and topped it off with the plaster slurry, using the exaggerated care he remembered some of the men from the Coombe used when they were trying to plow after too much beer at midday.
“That’s it for now,” said Damon. “Take him back to his cell and let him rest, Nûd. He’s earned it.”
“Gladly,” said the big man.
He partly supported Eynon as the two of them staggered down the hall to Eynon’s room.
Carving settings is hard work, thought Eynon. I’m glad I’ll only have to do it once.
Nûd was doing more and more of the work, since Eynon’s limbs were slow to respond to mental commands. Eynon felt as tired as he had after bringing in the harvest back in the Coombe. When they got to his cell, he fell on his narrow bed with one hand holding his new magestone and the other wrapped around his pillow. Sleep claimed him in seconds.
Two hours later, he woke up feeling refreshed and reinvigorated. The time when he’d carved the setting for his magestone seemed hazy, as if someone else had done the work and he’d looked over their shoulder, so he was still a bit disoriented.
I’ve got a lot to learn about magestones, thought Eynon.
He shifted to put his feet on the floor and realized Nûd was standing at the door to Eynon’s cell, holding a mug and a plate of small delicacies Eynon didn’t recognize.
“Have some of this,” said Nûd, extending the mug.
Eynon’s nose smelled mint. He took the mug with both hands and tasted its contents. It was honey-sweet, but had a bite from vinegar and a wonderful minty aroma. He savored a few more sips, then put the mug down and turned his attention to the plate.
“What are those?”
“Sesame candies,” said Nûd. “Sesame seeds, honey, breadcrumbs, and ground sesame paste. Don’t worry. I didn’t make them.”
Eynon reached for the plate eagerly and popped three of the candies into his mouth in six heartbeats. The candies were sticky, sweet, crunchy, and quite delicious. Feeling more himself, Eynon stood up and shifted his weight from one foot to the other until he confirmed he could keep his balance without falling over. He reached out to grasp one of Nûd’s hands with his own.
“Thank you,” said Eynon.
“My pleasure,” said the big man. “Are you feeling better?”
“Much better.”
“Good,” said Nûd. “Because your mold has hardened and it’s time to finish your casting.”
Nûd and Eynon hurried back to the artifact studio where they found Damon flipping through the Animal book.
“Ready?” asked Damon.
“I think so,” Eynon replied. He squared his shoulders.
“Good,” said Damon, pointing to a small cast iron door halfway up one of the walls of the artifact studio. “I’ve been heating the oven.”
Nûd found Eynon thick gloves and a pair of long, iron tongs. Damon opened the oven door. Eynon slid the plaster mold inside with the tongs and Damon closed the door with a clang.
“How long do we wait?” asked Eynon. “Is there a count?”
“Nûd can’t help us with counting even if he takes off his shoes and socks,” teased Damon. “I’m counting to three hundred in my head and he can’t manage higher than twenty.”
“I was solving trigonometry problems before my legs were long enough to ride a horse, old man,” Nûd replied. “Sixty-seven, one thirty-nine, two eighty-eight…”
“Stop!” Damon protested. “You’ll throw me off count.”
“Senility is always a problem for aging minds,” said Nûd.
He winked at Eynon, who put up his hands, determined to stay out of this argument.
“At this rate, you won’t have to worry about getting old enough to be senile, you disrespectful young behemoth.”
“Don’t worry,” said Nûd to Eynon. “He’s got a sphere of solidified sound in the oven designed to explode when the temperature of the mold is hot enough to ensure the wax is melted. It will be ready when we hear a pop.”
As if on cue, the specified sound came from inside the oven.
“Time to remove the mold,” said Damon, opening the oven door.
Eynon took the mold from the oven with the iron tongs and followed Nûd’s gaze to a thick-walled soapstone basin on the floor.
“In there?” he asked.
“Correct,” said Damon. “Pour the wax there. Hold it in place for a few minutes, to ensure all the wax comes out.”
Eynon complied, holding the mold upside down so the wax could drain away. When his muscles began to tremble, he put the plaster mold on the worktable.
“Excellent,” said Damon. “You’re doing a great job and can take a break for an hour while the gold is melting in the oven.”
Why couldn’t Damon have started melting the gold while I was napping? thought Eynon.
“Excuse me, sir,” said Eynon. “Am I right in thinking it’s important for an apprentice to handle every step in the process of making his artifact himself?”
“Absolutely,” said Damon. “That’s how it’s always been done and always will be.”
“Yes, sir,” said Eynon. “I mean, yes, Damon.”
That explained why Damon hadn’t started melting gold earlier.
“Don’t worry about the occasional sir, lad. I know you’re distracted,” said Damon. “At least you’re respectful, unlike some.”
He glanced at Nûd in mock anger that turned to laughter when the big man artfully mimed being struck in the heart with a crossbow quarrel.
Eynon decided to take advantage of the others’ good moods.
“Would you mind if I tried my own idea for melting the gold, instead of heating it in the oven?” asked Eynon. “I think it might be faster.”
Nûd teased Eynon by stepping outside the entrance to the artifact studio and peeking his head around the corner.
Damon ignored Nûd.
“Go ahead, lad,” he said. “Let’s see what you have in mind.”
“I’ll need your help, Nûd,” said Eynon. “Can you add the gold dust when I give the word?”
“I’d be glad to,” said Nûd, stepping back into the room.
“Great. One bag of dust should be enough,” said Eynon. “Stand over there.”
Nûd collected a bag of gold dust and nuggets from farther down the table and stood in front of the mold.
“Take two steps to the left,” said Eynon.
Nûd complied.
Eynon concentrated and used his magic to create a bubble of solidified sound above the mold. He gave the bubble a slight bluish tint so it would be easy to see, then formed an opening at its top.
“Pour in the gold, please.”
“I think I see what you’re doing,” said Nûd as he dumped the contents of a bag into the bubble.
“So do I,” added Damon.
Eynon sealed the bubble and added heat, just like he’d done to boil water in the kitchen. This time, he added more and more heat until the dust and nuggets flowed together and puddled at the bottom of the bubble. He slowly extended a thin tube of solidified sound from the bu
bble down toward the mold and a rivulet of yellow metal followed its course.
Eynon was about to open the tip of the tube and begin filling the mold when he was shaken by an invisible force and thrown roughly to the floor. The bubble and tube shot up to the ceiling and broke open, spraying molten metal on the gray stone blocks above them.
Damon and Nûd also lost their footing when the castle shook, but they reacted quickly, crawling into an open space beneath one end of the worktable. Eynon wasn’t far away, but drops of liquid gold were forming on the ceiling and would soon be falling.
“This way!” shouted Nûd. “Come in here with us.”
Eynon scrambled closer. One of Nûd’s long arms grabbed Eynon’s wrist and skidded him across the floor as a dozen drops of hot metal fell. Eynon heard a sizzling sound and realized molten gold was eating through the thick leather of one of his boots. He kicked it off faster than he thought was possible, then tucked his feet under him as he huddled in, crowded together with Nûd and Damon under the table.
No one said anything for a few seconds.
“What was that?” asked Eynon after his heart rate slowed to something closer to normal.
“Ground shake,” said Nûd calmly. “A pretty big one. You’ll get used to them.”
Damon also seemed to take the shaking in stride.
“The land around Melyncárreg is unstable,” he said. “That’s one of the reasons for all the mud pots and geysers.”
“Geysers?” asked Eynon.
“Water and steam shooting out of the ground,” said Nûd.
“Oh,” said Eynon, remembering his recent close encounter with one.
He noticed Chee’s frightened and disapproving face peeking out from under the fleece on the high shelf and gave the raconette a reassuring, if not completely convincing smile. Eynon was glad the little beast appeared unharmed.
“Sometimes the energy from the cuddio tân is expressed by ground shakes,” said Damon. “We have thousands of small ones and two or three large shakes a year.”
“Can you tell when they’re going to happen?” asked Eynon.
“Not at all,” said Nûd.
“Great,” said Eynon. “Just great.”
He had a sudden wave of longing for his brief time on the river with Merry, when the worst thing he had to worry about was fighting off kidnappers and thieves. Eynon wondered how she was faring on the other side of the gate. Maybe when his magestone had a setting, he could figure out a way to contact her.
Chapter 24
“Even those who learn from their mistakes still repeat them.”
— Ealdamon’s Epigrams
“The Master always wanted a gilded ceiling,” said Damon.
“Just not quite like that,” said Nûd, once the molten gold had solidified in explosive patterns above their heads and in large droplets on the floor.
Damon, Nûd, and Eynon had crawled out of their protected space under the table to survey the damage. Eynon looked closely at the back of the boot he’d removed.
“It’s a good thing I took this off quickly,” said Eynon. “A few drops went through the leather.”
He turned the boot upside down and two small pellets of gold hit the stone floor of the artifact studio with a muted clink. Eynon shook his head in disappointment.
“Looks like we’ll have to wait to pour my artifact.”
“Nonsense,” said Damon. “You have to return to slay the dragon that burned you.”
“But…” protest Eynon.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Damon continued. “Your concept was sound—just keep your focus and be ready to handle the unexpected this time.”
“Like aftershocks,” said Nûd.
“What are aftershocks?” asked Eynon.
“Never mind about them,” said Damon. “You’ve got plenty of gold to try again, and Nûd can clean up the mess from your previous try later.”
“Shouldn’t Eynon clean it up?” asked Nûd.
“I’d be glad to clean it…”
“Focus, lad,” said Damon. “Create another sphere for heating. I’ll add the gold dust this time.”
“Yes, sir,” said Eynon.
Damon smiled at Nûd and the big man shook his head from side to side in resignation.
“I’ll add the gold,” said Nûd. “You be ready with a shield spell in case anything unforeseen happens, not that something would necessarily be unforeseen in this case.”
“Very well,” said Damon. “Center your mind, lad, and get busy.”
“Right,” said Eynon.
He tilted his head back and rotated his shoulders until his neck cracked, then found a solid stance and started again. He created a modest-sized sphere of solidified sound, gave it a light-blue tint, and opened a hole in the top. Nûd poured in gold dust and nuggets from a second bag, then moved five paces away to stand close to the open space under the worktable.
“Don’t you have faith in Eynon?” asked Damon.
“I have faith in Eynon,” Nûd replied, “but I’m standing over here in case we have another ground shake.”
“Hah,” said Damon. “Say what you will, but I have full confidence in the lad.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Eynon. “You might want to stand near Nûd, though. I’m going to heat the gold again and don’t want to hurt either of you if something goes wrong.”
“An admirable sentiment,” said Damon.
He made a slight bow and moved to join Nûd.
“Proceed,” said the older man.
Assured they were both out of harm’s way, Eynon confirmed that Chee was still safely underneath the fleece, then added heat to the sphere until the gold was molten. He shook his construct gently to ensure the dust and nuggets were completely melted and well-mixed. Then he created another tube to one of the sprue holes at the top of the mold and let the glistening metal flow into it until a slight dome of gold formed at the top and metal showed at the second sprue hole.
Eynon let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“You’ve done it, lad,” said Damon.
Nûd grinned and clapped his hands twice in approval.
Eynon smiled and realized there was still hot metal in the sphere.
Can I take heat away as easily as I added it? he wondered.
He shrank the sphere until it was less than an inch in diameter and pulled the heat away from it, leaving a small gold ball that fell into his hand with a weighty smack when he dispelled the construct of solidified sound.
“What should I do with this?” Eynon asked.
“Keep it,” said Damon. “It could prove useful if you’re ever short of funds.”
“But paint it gray,” said Nûd, “so no one murders you in your sleep to get it.”
“Good idea,” said Eynon.
He put the small gold ball in his pouch and held his hand over the mold. The metal in the sprue holes was solid and not radiating heat.
“Now what?” Eynon asked.
“Guess,” said Damon.
The older man handed Eynon a heavy wooden mallet made from a thick section of tree branch.
“Tap, don’t smash,” Nûd advised.
Eynon took the mallet from Damon and tentatively struck the plaster mold. Nothing happened except for a few flecks of white dust falling to the table.
“Keep tapping,” said Nûd.
Shifting the mallet to one side of the mold, then the other, Eynon gave it a series of stronger taps. Fine cracks developed in its outer surface, but the mold stayed intact. Damon watched Eynon closely, waiting to see what he would do.
“I have an idea,” said Eynon. “Why can’t I try vibrating the mold the same way the ground shake made us vibrate?”
“No reason not
to give it a try,” said the older man.
Nûd moved away from the space beneath the worktable and stood in the doorway to the artifact studio. Damon noted Nûd’s new position, but stayed a few feet from Eynon, indicating encouragement by waving his hands in a circular motion.
“Come on, lad,” he said. “Get on with it.”
Eynon created another sphere of solidified sound, just big enough to hold the rectangular mold. He moved the sphere to float above the worktable and gently pushed the mold inside it, until the construct looked like two slices of bread inside a translucent ball.
Feeling like a puppeteer manipulating a marionette, Eynon put his hands above the ball and wiggled his fingers. The ball began to vibrate at a faster and faster speed, emitting a rising tone that increased until it abruptly stopped when the solid plaster of the mold turned into a cloud of fine white dust.
In the center of the sphere, hidden within the dust cloud, was the setting for Eynon’s artifact. He stopped moving his fingers and the construct ceased to move, allowing the tiny white particles to fall to the bottom. The golden design hovering within was now clearly visible. Eynon dispelled the sphere and caught the setting as it fell. Nûd wiped plaster dust off the worktable with a wet rag.
“The setting is beautiful, but dull,” said Eynon as he turned the ornate gold disk in his hand.
Nûd gave Damon a pointed look and the older man took a deep breath before speaking.
“I won’t say the obvious,” said Damon. “Eynon is far from dull. We’ve had more excitement since he’s arrived than we’ve had since…”
Nûd raised an eyebrow.
“Best not to go there, either,” said Damon, nodding his head in unspoken agreement with Nûd. “Water over the waterwheel and all that.”
Eynon was oblivious to their byplay. He removed his red magestone from his belt pouch and tested it to confirm it fit the opening in the center of his artifact.
The Congruent Apprentice (The Congruent Mage Series Book 1) Page 29