by H. L. Burke
They’d done this dance before, and she always gave in. Tonight he sensed her resistance was particularly low.
Rill bit her bottom lip, then a mischievous smile lit her face. She took the iron stylus. “Just one.”
“Of course.” He grinned.
Jaspyr stirred at her feet, opening one eye.
“Shh,” Rill soothed him. She traced the opening symbol onto the wood.
Jericho leaned closer. “What are you going to do?”
“Wait and see.” She angled her chair away and blocked his view with her shoulder. He chuckled.
A moment later, the magic activated with a familiar sizzle. A brilliant orange phoenix the size of a crow zipped from the table top. The creature’s feathers were individual flames, each dancing upon its back. A blur of light trailed behind it like a cloak. The phoenix circled the room showering them with sparks that melted like snowflakes on Jericho’s skin, warm but not painful. The magical bird dove into the fire which gave out a pop and flared brighter. Rill exhaled.
Jericho blinked. “Where’d you learn that one?”
“I made it up. I combined the firestarter spell you taught me with the symbol for summon bird from a book I ‘borrowed’ from Dad.” She pushed the kindling over to him.
He examined the symbols, all of which he recognized: the normal building blocks of magic, but combined in a way he never would have thought of, not in a thousand years of trial and error. “You know, if your father would let you study, you’d probably be the best magician in this household, if not in the whole region. Even having to sneak your lessons, you’re easily as capable as I am.”
“That isn’t true. You’re a great magician. I love watching you work, you’re so sure and swift.”
“I just repeat what your father’s taught me. There’s no skill in that, just memory,” he said. “You should be studying right along with me.”
She dropped her gaze. “Yes, well, I don’t want to worry Dad.” She tossed the wood onto the fire.
Jericho watched the spell burn with regret. “On one hand, I’m grateful. If your dad had let you study, there wouldn’t have been a place here for me, but I know it’s not fair. Your dad let Auric attend the Academy even though he loathed the whole idea of it. You should speak to him. No matter what his fears, if he understands how important it is to you—”
“It’s different with me, Jerry. Ever since Mother—” She swallowed. “I don’t want to hurt him. Yes, it’s frustrating, but he needs me. I can put up with being treated like a china doll to keep him from worrying.”
Jericho pinched her nose. “Well, maybe if you didn’t look like a china doll, he wouldn’t mistake you for one.”
She batted his hand away. “You’re awful.” But her smile returned, and that was all he wanted.
The door creaked open. Jericho scooted his chair away from Rill.
Auric, for this young man in fancy city-boy clothes had to be Auric, blinked at them. Jaspyr gave a warning yip.
“Aurry, I thought you were asleep.” Rill stood.
“I couldn’t.” Auric eyes burned into Jericho. “I saw the light and thought maybe it was Father.”
“He’s still in his study, I think, though he may have fallen asleep in there.” Jericho stood. “He gets caught up in his work.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that.” Auric put out his hand. “We haven’t been properly introduced.”
Jericho shook it, noting Auric’s tightening of his grasp as well as the shorter man’s attempt to draw himself up. In response, Jericho abandoned his comfortable slouch and smiled down at the top of Auric’s head. “No, but I’ve heard a lot about you, from your sister, mainly.” Jericho nodded towards Rill. “She’s happy to have you home.”
“More than I can say.” Rill rose and patted Auric’s shoulder.
“It was good of you to lend a hand here. My father’s always needed an assistant.”
“Apprentice,” Rill corrected.
“Apprentice, of course,” Auric said, but his steady gaze made Jericho certain the mislabeling was intentional.
He narrowed his gaze. Did Auric think he could intimidate him? Jericho didn’t have time for such games. Auric was the one crashing into Jericho’s world like a runaway mule, disrupting everything, stealing everything Jericho had spent five years striving for. Anger tightened his stomach, but he swallowed it and kept his voice steady.
“I do my best to help out. If you don’t mind, I’ve had a long day. Good night, Rill, Master Auric.”
He strode out of the room, conscious of Auric’s eyes following him the whole way.
Chapter Four
Auric took the stairs to his father’s workshop two at a time. Yes, yesterday had been a disaster, but today? Today he was going to jump into the middle of things and take control. He’d lain awake for an hour the night before, compiling every possible way to impress Father and show up Jericho. One of them had to work. It was just a matter of finding the opportunity.
Jericho was already at work, stacking sheets of paper onto one end of the work table beside a line of different colored ink pots and quills. Auric paused in the doorway and tugged thoughtfully at his beard. Jericho glanced up at him, then silently continued to work without so much as a greeting.
“Is my father not up yet?” Auric asked.
Jericho nodded towards the study door. A silver tray with a few soiled dishes and an empty tea cup sat beside it. “He’ll emerge soon. I like to have everything ready for the day’s work before he does.” He finished with the papers and moved on to a pile of wooden quires.
“Father’s still using wooden quires, huh?” Auric picked up one of the smooth boards, not much thicker than the paper, and ran his fingers across it. He placed it back on the pile.
“Of course,” Jericho said.
“The magicians at the Academy use wax tablets for most spells.” Auric drew his from his vest pocket and flipped it open. “You can work it quickly, then rework it if needed.” He scratched out a basic flare spell, causing a star of yellow Fey energy to burst over their heads. Immediately, he ran the broad side of the stylus over the wax, smoothing it into a blank sheet.
“Not a lot of staying power in wax. I’d think the strength of the spells would be adversely affected.”
“Well, we still use stone, wood, and even metal when we need to, but you can work a lot faster in wax.”
“I think I prefer wood. It’s reliable, proven, more likely to be there when you need it.” Something in Jericho’s tone made Auric straighten his posture. The two men exchanged a glance. Auric squared his shoulders.
The door to the study opened.
Jericho about faced. “Good morning, sir. Everything’s ready.”
Hedward rubbed his brow. “Thank you, Jericho. I fear I’m off to a bad start. We have an order of frost wards for the agricultural guild to deliver, and I haven’t even had a chance to check the energy levels yet.”
“I already did.” Jericho grabbed a notepad from the table and handed it to Auric’s father. “Everything’s steady today, no major spikes or dips.”
Father scanned the notes, then nodded. “Good. Do you think you can oversee the frost wards as well? I have a personal project I’d like to work on.”
“Of course.”
“I can help, Father,” Auric said quickly.
Hedward blinked as if realizing Auric was in the room for the first time. He cleared his throat. “I suppose the work will go faster with two. You have your own stylus, I presume.”
“Is it strong enough to work with wood?” Jericho raised an eyebrow. “We can’t exactly do an order of frost wards in wax.”
Auric gritted his teeth. “I’m sure it will be more than adequate.” Yes, there was no mistaking it this time. Jericho was challenging him. Well, let the fun begin.
Father settled in front of the desk with the ledger from the day before and a map of the surrounding area. He referred to the ledger, then circled something on the map, then back to the ledge
r, then the map again.
Auric tilted his head, trying to get a better look.
Father caught his gaze, cleared his throat, and folded the map. He tucked the ledger under his arm. “I’m going to work in my study for a bit.”
Auric’s chest tightened as his father shut the door between them.
Jericho bent over a wood quire, inscribing symbols on it with his stylus.
“I’ve never seen my father work magic with maps before,” Auric said, taking up another plank.
Jericho grunted. “You’ve been gone for half a decade. Things change.”
“Things change. Father doesn’t.” Auric pulled out his stylus. “So, frost wards?”
“Yes, the farmers need them to protect their crops.” Jericho nodded towards a scrap of paper resting under an ink pot. “There’s the list of which farms need them and for what area. You’ll need to use sun symbols for warmth then a specific proximity for the particular farm—”
“I know how to do it,” Auric snapped. “I was inscribing minor spells for Father while you were still learning to read.” He narrowed his eyes at Jericho. “Though I shouldn’t assume. You can read, can’t you?”
“Yes,” Jericho said, his expression placid. “Both books and people.”
Auric recoiled. Somehow Jericho could make a calm word feel like a slap in the face. Auric wasn’t about to roll over and show his belly, though. No, he was the rightful heir to the shop, and if Jericho wouldn’t bend to that, he’d just have to go.
The first farm on the list had been scratched through, and he assumed Jericho’s current project was the second. He read the particulars of the third. Easy enough.
Twirling his stylus between his fingers, he selected a quire. “So … how did you end up here? Carpenter to magician, that’s quite a leap.”
Jericho shrugged. “Your father has always bought his quires from my family. All of these, in fact, come from my uncle’s shop.” He jerked his chin at the stack of wood. “Master Spellsmith took an interest in me. Used to lend me books when he put in orders.”
Auric swallowed. “You were, what, fourteen at the time?”
“No, more like twelve … by the time I was fourteen, I think I’d read through half of your family’s library.”
A sinking pit formed in Auric’s stomach. His father had been grooming Jericho when Auric was still at home? Why? Did he somehow know that Auric was destined to be a disappointment? He hardened his mouth and etched the opening symbol into the wood.
The spell was almost identical to his warming spell, just with a larger coverage area and greater strength. He bit his lip. At the Academy they usually did the measurements by square meters. Jericho had written down the area of the field as simply “300” along with a recommended five sun symbols. Auric balked. Each sun symbol could provide enough warmth for at most twenty meters. A coverage of three hundred meters demanded at least fifteen sun symbols or else the spell would be woefully under-powered.
Auric considered pointing out the error to Jericho, but decided to let the apprentice make his own mistakes. When Father saw Jericho couldn’t even complete simple tasks right, it would be easy enough for Auric to convince him to send Jericho back to the carpentry shop. His stylus danced across the wood, finishing the spell while Jericho still labored over his.
The golden light raced across the symbols. Warm air swirled about them.
Jericho looked up and raised his eyebrows. “You activated it?”
“Yes.” Auric swallowed as the heat grew to fill the room.
Jericho rolled his eyes. “Well, a fat lot of good that does the farmers. You need to put a time symbol on them so they activate themselves after they’re placed in the fields.”
“Oh, of course.” Auric loosened his collar. “It’s been a few years. I forgot that part.”
With a dismissive sniff, Jericho returned to his work. “There should be a delivery time next to the acreage numbers for each farm. Use that.”
Auric rubbed the back of his neck, his face hot. He had to be blushing like an overwhelmed school girl with the temperature rising under his skin. Determined to ignore it, he reached for another quire. The heat surrounded him like a throbbing pulse.
Jericho coughed and wiped his sleeve across his forehead. Sweat beaded on his brow. “Blast it, Auric. What in the world did you do?” He snatched the quire with the first spell from the table and squinted at it. His eyes widened. “Get down!” He tossed the wooden spell against the far wall and hit the floor. Auric dove beneath the table as a flash of light and wave of searing heat shot across the room.
The blaze of energy dazzled Auric, and he blinked away sunspots. Pops rang out like exploding firecrackers. Someone shouted. He covered his ears.
“What on God’s good earth is going on in here?” Footsteps pounded across the floorboards. A second set sounded on the stairs.
“Dad, Aurry, Jerry! Oh dear Lord, what happened?”
His vision cleared. The harsh scent of ozone singed his nostrils. Jaspyr pounced on him, metal paws hard and cold. Auric pushed the fox away.
Father glared down at him. “What did you do?”
“Jerry, you’re bleeding!” Rill knelt beside the apprentice. She pressed a handkerchief against his forehead, her eyes wide and worried.
“Just a scratch. I’m fine,” he said, but didn’t pull away from her. In fact, if anything he was leaning into her touch.
Auric’s stomach twisted.
Father’s glare softened, and he offered Auric his hand. “Are you hurt?”
Auric shook his head and allowed Father to pull him to his feet. “I don’t think so.”
“What was that?” Father asked.
“I’ll tell you what it was,” Jericho growled. “Auric put about three times the sun symbols needed for a three hundred square foot area into his frost ward then activated it right on top of us. The power was too much for the proximity. We’re lucky we didn’t get incinerated.”
Square foot? Not meters, feet … Auric wished he could combust right then and there.
“Well, no one was hurt badly,” Rill soothed.
“Yes, it could’ve been much … oh no!” Father’s jaw dropped and he raced across the room to where the spell had landed. Smoke rose from a large scorch mark in the floor and several pieces of shattered sandstone. “My protective ward! The barrier is broken. Jericho, quickly, get me a stone marker. We need to fix this before … before … just do it!”
“I can help,” Auric stammered. He stepped towards his father, but Jericho cut him off.
The apprentice’s eyes glinted. “I think you’ve done enough. We’ve got this under control.”
Auric’s jaw dropped. “I am capable of helping with a basic protection spell.”
“Just like you were capable of simple frost wards?” A wry smile played across Jericho’s lips.
“That’s not fair,” Rill said, putting her hand on Jericho’s shoulder.
“Rill, you shouldn’t be in here!” Hedward barked.
Rill recoiled.
“It’s all right. I’ll calm him,” Jericho whispered. “Get your brother out of here before something else happens.”
Auric’s breakfast threatened to reappear. Torn between forcing his help on his father and punching Jericho, he instead stood like a gaping idiot as Jericho hurried to help his father repair his wards.
“Are you all right?” Rill whispered.
“Yeah, fine, I just …” Auric swallowed. “I just need some air.”
Chapter Five
Auric slouched out of the workshop, but partway down the stairs his speed picked up, and he burst through the front door at a full run.
Years of practice at his father’s feet followed by five years of study under the best magicians in the Republic, and he’d still made a mistake like a bumbling novice. Even now, Jericho was probably whispering in Father’s ear that Auric couldn’t handle the shop.
Everything had gone so terribly wrong.
His shoes
crunched on the gravel path. Birds sang out in the distance. He followed their song through the garden spangled with forget-me-nots and primroses. Something silver-white flashed over the hedge. A head of hair? He narrowed his eyes. Mattias had been bald even before Auric left and Will’s hair was far darker than that.
“Hello?” Auric called.
A spidery tickle crept down his spine. The birds fell silent.
“Aurry, where are you?”
He spun about to find Rill jogging towards him, her lips pursed and her brow drawn. Jaspyr bolted ahead of her, yipping and snapping at the air. The bronze fox whooshed past Auric like a steam engine. He hit the hedge, sending leaves and birds flying. The fox tore about in the underbrush, his sniffs and snarls growing louder and more frustrated. A silver-backed squirrel ran up the nearest tree in a panic. Auric squinted at it. Perhaps that was what he’d seen.
Cool fingers touched Auric’s hand, and he jumped.
Rill smiled. “Dad isn’t angry with you.”
Auric snorted. “You could’ve fooled me.”
“He gets flustered when something happens to his protective wards. They took him weeks to get in place, but he has so many of them scattered all over the manor that it seems inevitable that a few will get broken. Why, last week Jaspyr knocked over the one in the library and shattered the stone the spell was inscribed on. Dad spent all day enchanting a new one.” She laughed. “He didn’t kick Jaspyr out for that, so I’m pretty sure you’ll be allowed to stay.”
A stone ward? Magicians usually only used those to guard strategic targets or things of great value. What was Father doing setting them up in the library? Auric loved his books, but he didn’t keep them under lock and key.
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” he said, brushing away the question. “Father and Jericho are stuck in their ways, and there’s no room for me in their little clique. I had all these grand ideas for improving things around the workshop, but it’s useless.”
“No, it’s not.” She squeezed his hand. “You’ve barely been home two days. Dad will come around once he sees how brilliant you are.”