The Apprenticeship of Julian St. Albans

by Crook, Amy

  They discussed the potions, the conversation becoming quite technical, especially once Alex and the Guardians joined in. Julian curled himself against Alex’s chest and let his eyes fall shut, listening to the murmur of Alex’s voice and the soft underlying beat of his heart.

  CHAPTER 18

  After a delicious lunch, they sent Jones in first with Father Stephen. Dr. Chesterfield stayed long enough to show James and Jacques how to detect any hint of lingering magic, using the little burrowed hook left in Julian as their example. Then he left, and Alex called Lapointe to let her know all was clear.

  “We’ll do you last, love, that way you can get debriefed and then nap after your purification,” said Alex, kissing his hair.

  “You need to nap, too,” said Julian, giving him a poke. “I’m not the one who fainted.”

  “I do, and I will once she’s talked to me about the new case, I promise.” Alex’s phone beeped, and he read it and sighed. “Unfortunately, it turns out Ms. Eberly has an alibi for last night, and so she’s obviously not our culprit.”

  “Did you ever figure out the timing?” asked Julian curiously. “Though I guess there hasn’t been time for much more research.”

  “Let’s do that now,” said Alex. He stood and offered Julian a hand, leading all four of them into his work room. He left the door open so Jones could find them, and handed each of them a book. “Let’s get Thomas on speaker and we can get all the details about the people from him; I’ll look the places up on the internet.”

  “I can do that,” said James, holding his hand out for Alex’s computer. “You know your library better.”

  Julian got out his phone and dialled, glad to be useful for once. “Agent MacLean? It’s Julian. Yes, sorry, Thomas,” he said, chuckling, then put the phone down and switched it to speaker. “I’ve got you on speaker in Alex’s lab, we want to get all the dates of birth and other details from the three victims if you have them, so we can see about correlating anything between the sites, dates, times and people.”

  “I can do that,” said Thomas, and there was a little rustling and some key-clicking. Julian pulled over a note pad and pencil. “Ready?”

  “Ready,” said Julian. Thomas rattled off the facts and Julian wrote everything down carefully about the two lost apprentices, from their dates of birth to when they’d been tested and accepted into the Guild.

  “We identified your customer, too, it turns out you actually did have his phone number written down wrong,” said Thomas. “His name was Jack Archer, and he was a local hedge wizard and known crank. He was apparently grumpy about going to the Temple because he tended to get in arguments with the priests, but he was talented for all that he was a bit of a crackpot.”

  “Wait, so if he wasn’t the one, how did they get my hair?” asked Julian, brows furrowing. “I didn’t have time to help many customers Monday before they sent me home.”

  “You’d best call Mary Margaret and see if she can remember who else you helped,” said Alex. “But get Jack’s info, first.”

  “All right,” said Julian. Thomas rattled off his various stats, and then they thanked him and hung up.

  “Leave those with us and go call Mary Margaret,” said Alex. “And maybe get us more tea?”

  “I’ll ask Alys, greedy,” said Julian, getting a kiss and taking his phone into the other room. He called Mary Margaret after requesting more tea for the lab, standing by one of the tall windows that flanked the fireplace and looking out at the clear August sky.

  “Julian, what can I do for you?” said Mary Margaret by way of greeting.

  Julian couldn’t help but smile at the warmth in her voice. “Mary Margaret, how are things? Are you all getting on without me?”

  “We are, though the plants are missing you, I think. I hear your new luck garden’s coming along nicely, is that where you are?” she asked cheerfully.

  “No, I’ve been confined to home, there was a trap laid at our doorstep yesterday, and someone else was, well, you know, last night,” said Julian, feeling sad. He moved away from the blue sky and curled up in his reading chair. “It was Jack, that customer who wanted the lilies.”

  “Oh, you poor lad, and poor him as well for all he was a bit of a fusspot,” said Mary Margaret. Julian could hear water in the background, and he smiled to think of her making tea. “Now, what can I do for you?”

  “Oh, right,” said Julian. “Well, it turns out Jack really is, was, a hedge-wizard in need of ingredients, so I need to see if you can remember who else I helped on Monday.”

  “It wasn’t many,” she said. “Let me go look at the records while the kettle boils.” Her voice got further away as she called for Raul to come man the till, then took her phone back into the office. “Here we are,” she said, and he heard paper rustle. She still liked to do everything the old-fashioned way, which he enjoyed when it wasn’t frustrating him.

  “Master Elkhort came in while Jack was here, that was after I ordered the pizza,” Julian chuckled. “Did you ever get that?”

  “It did show up, and I was very glad of it by then, as was Raul,” said Mary Margaret. “Don’t you worry about that now. Let’s see, the first person of the day was the one who got the flat of mixed herbs and flowers and a few seed packets,” she said. “Didn’t you help him to his car?”

  “Oh, right, the cranky guy who didn’t want to wait for me to put my shoes on,” said Julian. “I’d forgotten him entirely.”

  “Well, we had a bit of a rush after him, and you were running around trying to find things for people who couldn’t believe we might have had to close for a mere murder,” said Mary Margaret dryly. “Why don’t I make some copies of this for your police lady?”

  “Good idea, and if anyone used a card to pay, maybe give her that?” said Julian, trying to remember if anyone else had stood out. “There was that one lady that had to pick just the right rosemary bush, didn’t she use a card?”

  “She did, I remember her having trouble with the chip-and-PIN machine,” said Mary Margaret. “I’ll flag her, and the old man, I seem to remember him not having enough cash for the whole lot.”

  “A couple of people wanted clover and had to go away mad,” said Julian, thinking aloud. “And there was that one lady who needed flowering lobelia that day, and we’d have had to order it, but I don’t think I got her information.”

  “You were on the phone for her for a while,” said Mary Margaret, “but you did find what she needed at Crow & Branch’s, as I recall.”

  “I did, I can call over and see if she got it,” said Julian. “They won’t think it’s weird I followed up if I make like she’s a regular.”

  “Good thinking,” said Mary Margaret.

  They talked about a few more of the customers, and managed between them to account for a memory of nearly every plant sold and a few people that went away unhappy, including those that left orders for things that weren’t in stock. Mary Margaret organised her notes while Julian called Thomas to get a fax number, and then Mary Margaret used their cranky old fax machine to send the information over. Lapointe arrived while they were finishing up, and Alex and the Guardians left off their research to let her in and sit in the living room.

  “You’re all looking more chipper,” said Lapointe, sipping tea and organising her own pile of papers.

  “Caffeine powers the universe,” intoned Alex, and they all chuckled. “Well, and rest and potions and soon, purification.”

  “Now, for you, my boy,” said Father Stephen, ushering Jones out into the living room. “If you two would check him for contamination, please?”

  “Of course, Father,” said James, and he and Jacques came over to examine Jones, looking for any trace of the spell still lodged within his subtle body.

  They took their time, and Jones was relaxed enough from the purification to put up with it without objecting, even when then lifted his shirt and looked at his belly and chest, which blossomed with purple bruises.

  “He looks clean to me,”
said James. “What do you think?”

  “Seems clean,” said Jacques. “You can put more bruise potion on now.”

  “Oh, thank goodness,” said Jones with a laugh. “Father Stephen didn’t want it to block your sight, but I do ache.”

  “Come here to the kitchen,” said Alys, “I’ve made a poultice and I’ll take care of you.”

  “Go on,” urged Father Stephen.

  “Her stuff is really good,” assured Julian.

  Jones grinned. “I’ve no doubt,” he said, following her voice into the kitchen.

  They all turned their attention away to give him a bit of privacy, and Father Stephen grinned. “Your turn, Alex.”

  “All right,” said the chosen victim, getting up and following him back into the bedroom, door shutting after them.

  “So, what do you need from me?” asked Julian, curling back up with a blanket now that his personal warmer was gone. “I’m going in next, and I intend to sleep afterward.”

  “You first it is, then,” said Lapointe, and she started from the beginning with Jones pulling up to the elevator, then got him to tell her the whole story from his perspective, right up until she’d arrived. He was telling her about a few of the more memorable customers from Monday when Alex came out and submitted to his own minute examination.

  “You’re still really depleted,” said James worriedly, “but I don’t see any foreign magic.”

  “Bruises, but no magic,” said Jacques. “Will Alex also get poultice, Alys?”

  “Yes, yes, send him in,” she replied. Jones had been sent back out as soon as it absorbed enough for him to get dressed again, and he was already looking more relaxed. “How’s your shoulder, lad?”

  “It’s pretty much better,” said Julian, flexing it. “I keep forgetting it’s there.”

  “A good sign,” said Alex, stealing a kiss before he went into the kitchen.

  “It is, and now it’s your turn. Are you done with him, Murielle?” asked Father Stephen.

  Lapointe nodded. “Done enough.” She turned back to Julian. “I’ll get the list brought over once they’ve traced all the card charges, and then we can talk about your suspicious customers after dinner.”

  “That sounds like a plan, just try to send Alex in for a nap at some point, too?” said Julian, standing and letting the blanket fall away.

  “I will,” said Murielle, glancing into the kitchen. “He’s still looking like death warmed over.”

  “At least I don’t look dead anymore,” said Alex, cheerfully flipping her off.

  Julian was happy to leave them with a laugh, after all that. He went into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. The lights were dim in there, but the bathroom light shone through the open door so he followed it back to find Father Stephen preparing a heavy-looking bucket of cold salt water.

  “I’m really not looking forward to this part,” said Julian, finding a dry spot for his clothes and reluctantly undressing.

  “It’s entirely necessary, I’m afraid, especially if this magic’s burrowed as deep as they say,” said the priest, but his face and voice were both filled with sympathy. “The shower’s already warmed up for you, anyway.”

  “Good,” said Julian. “Standing?”

  “Kneeling, please, sitting back on your heels,” said Father Stephen. “I’m not as young as I used to be.”

  “Right, someone’s got to lift the bucket,” said Julian. He was grateful that the tub floor was warm, and he resisted the urge to just curl up like a kitten against the porcelain. Instead he folded himself into a kneeling position, head bowed and hands in his lap like a penitent.

  “Deep breaths now, just listen to my voice, I’ll be supporting the salt rinse with magic,” said Father Stephen. “You concentrate on breathing, and think about all your friends and everyone who’s given you loving energy this week. Concentrate on that love and your gratitude.”

  “Love and gratitude,” said Julian softly, between breaths. It was easy to give himself over to that feeling, here in the steamy warmth of his own bathroom, surrounded by friends and Alex’s strong wards. He let that glow light him up from the inside out, and giggled when his magic pinged off not only the plants above them but Horace hiding in amongst the greenery. He made sure to rein in his power output while extending his senses to feel the layers of Alex-flavored magic around him, from the amulet sitting on his clothes to the bedroom and apartment wards, to Alex himself glowing from the kitchen. It wasn’t a glow he could see, but an impression of warmth and Alex-familiar sensations, love and protectiveness and a busy mind, worry and even a little fear.

  Julian pulled it all back into his skin, after touching lightly on the other people in the house, from the strangeness of the brownies to Jones and Murielle’s quieter auras.

  He was so deep in his contemplation that he almost missed it when Father Stephen said apologetically, “That’s just right. Now brace yourself.”

  Julian held his breath as the cold water poured over him, surrounding him completely for a brief moment, even making its way beneath him thanks to the Father’s magic. The salts stung a little, but he could feel them changing the magic inside him, feel the magic latch on to his own bright, loving glow and pull out anything that didn’t fit. He gasped when something came unhooked from deep in his chest, like a thorn pulling free, and he concentrated on pushing that painful little sharpness right out of him and sending it down the drain with the water.

  “Good, that’s very good,” said Father Stephen. He kissed Julian’s forehead, sending warmth back in to join seamlessly with Julian’s magic and start to heal the damage done by the foreign spell on its way out.

  “So much better,” said Julian, wiping his eyes so he could look up at Father Stephen. “Thank you.”

  “A light as bright as you is well worth preserving, my boy,” said Stephen. He turned on the taps, and warm water whooshed around Julian’s legs, then came showering down from overhead. “Go ahead and stand and get nice and rinsed, we won’t wash you until you’ve had your massage, you’re terribly tense.”

  “It’s been a trying week, Father,” said Julian, standing up and making sure to rinse away as much of the mineral salts as possible.

  “That it has,” said Stephen sadly. He handed Julian a towel when Julian turned off the water, and Julian got dried off and headed into the bedroom. “Massage first, then meditation while you’re feeling relaxed.”

  “Ooh, you’re spoiling me,” said Julian, pleased to see that the bed had been draped with extra sheets, likely courtesy of Alys. He lay down as directed and relaxed into Father Stephen’s practiced touches. “Did you ever take the massage station at the Temple? You’re quite good.”

  “I’ve done all the jobs involved with purification, with the exception of making potions,” said Father Stephen. “I even tended the meditation garden for a while, until someone more suited could replace me.”

  Julian relaxed a little more, thinking about how devoted Father Stephen must be to that Temple in particular. The big Temple of Purification was more complex than most people realised, and Julian was finally starting to realise that the other, smaller Temples were actually devoted to other things that the order as a whole believed in supporting, such as the nature-filled Temple at Gainesbury. He let his mind drift, wondering what other Temples there were and how they were organised, wondering where the Guardians trained and lived and what that Temple might be like, and how the various people he’d met at the Temples had come to give their lives to that work.

  “I think you’re relaxed,” said Father Stephen, a smile in his voice. “You’re quite far away, but the thoughts seem good?”

  “I was thinking about the Temples,” said Julian, giving a good stretch and feeling his sore shoulder pop satisfyingly. “My bruise must be nearly better?”

  “It looks colourful still,” said Father Stephen, “but you didn’t seem to feel much pain from it while I was working.”

  “I didn’t,” said Julian sitting up.
“Shower now, potion last?”

  “A proper meditation first,” said Father Stephen. He’d somehow managed to keep his robe from getting either damp from the shower or oiled from the massage, and he sat cross-legged after helping Julian into the same position. “Are you warm enough?”

  Julian blushed a little, but he was growing used to the way the Temple priests didn’t view nudity the same way as the rest of the world. “I’m warm, it’s nice in here after everyone’s showers.”

  “All right, now close your eyes and find that love you were shining so brightly with before,” said Father Stephen.

  Julian did so, finding it easily and expanding it again so it filled him from top to toes and out to his fingertips, warming him from the inside out. “I had no idea there was this much inside of me,” said Julian quietly.

  “You are quite blessed,” said Father Stephen. Julian could feel his glow and it was like being binary stars for a moment, two bright suns shining together, though Father Stephen’s magic felt different from Julian’s. There was a pure devotion at its core that was nothing Julian could match, and it coloured everything about Father Stephen with a peaceful sense of purpose.

  “So are you,” said Julian shyly. “I never knew you were so powerful.”

  Father Stephen chuckled. “I expend my energy in ways most consider invisible,” said Father Stephen, “much as you used to, in many small blessings over our fair city, one person at a time.”

  “Like me and my plants,” said Julian softly. “I’m glad I can still do that.”

  “As am I,” said Father Stephen. “Now, you’ve filled yourself up with that love, and I want you to think about your whole body, and the subtle body that resides within, and look at every part of your inner self.”