Spellsmith & Carver: Magicians' Trial

by H. L. Burke

A fat lot of good he’d been. He had to learn not to panic.

  “Let’s get him to bed and keep an eye on him until the doctor gets here.” Iris slipped her arms beneath Hedward’s shoulders.

  “I’ve got him.” Jericho scooped the older man up as if he were a small child and headed for the stairs. Still trembling, Rill and Iris followed.

  Alone, Auric rested his head in his hands. The crumpled letter lay nearby. His stomach twisting with a half-realization, he reached for it.

  It was from the Magicians’ Congress.

  To the honorable Hedward Spellsmith, the magical representative of the Republic for the area between Mountain’s Foot and Mill River:

  We regret to inform you that a formal complaint of conduct unbefitting to a representative of our body has been made against you. Therefore, until such a time as this matter can be fully judged by a court of your peers, your contract with the government has been revoked and your salary suspended. You are under notice not to practice magic in a professional capacity …”

  Auric shoved the letter aside. This had to be Inspector Hovawart’s doing. So much time had lapsed since he’d sent the inspector the requested logs that he’d convinced himself the danger had passed. After all, if Hovawart had evidence to back his accusations, he would’ve arrested either Auric or Father by now.

  Now Auric cursed himself. He should’ve known that congressional bulldog wouldn’t sit idly by just because he couldn’t prove Father’s guilt. No, he was going after the Spellsmiths where it would hurt most: their livelihood.

  Once again, Auric scanned the missive. No mention of Auric, or Jericho, for that matter. Was that because Hovawart didn’t suspect them of being complicit in the rift closing? Or because he simply didn’t see them as a threat?

  Footsteps echoed down the stairs. Jericho stopped in front of Auric and crossed his arms.

  “How is he?” Auric’s voice came in a rasp.

  “Stable, I think. Incoherent, weak, but breathing. My guess: a stroke, but we won’t know until the doctor looks him over.” Jericho’s mouth formed a firm line, almost as if he knew this was Auric’s fault.

  Shame rippled through Auric’s gut.

  “You want to tell me what’s going on?” Jericho asked.

  “He got this.” Auric picked himself off the floor and handed Jericho the letter.

  Jericho studied it, his scowl deepening. “That would do it.”

  Auric shifted from foot to foot. Of course, the reason behind the letter was even worse … and Auric had caused it. He focused on the floor, on the spot where his father had lain, not breathing, minutes before. He had to make this right: go to the Capital, confess everything, and explain that his father had nothing to do with it. Whatever the punishment, it couldn’t be as bad as the growing self-loathing in Auric’s chest.

  “Are you going to tell me the rest?” Jericho asked.

  Auric shook his head. “What makes you think there’s more to tell?”

  “Damnit, Auric!” Jericho snapped.

  Auric quailed back, staring at the taller man’s blazing dark eyes.

  “You’ve been squirrely since before the wedding.” Jericho kept his tone steady, but a hint of rage flitted about his mouth. “Whatever it is, I need to know. Rill’s upstairs terrified that she’s about to lose her father, and you know why. Now out with it!”

  “The Capital knows what we did!” Auric let it go one breath.

  Jericho stiffened. “About the rifts?”

  Auric nodded.

  “Then why are they going after your father instead of us?”

  “They can’t prove it was us, at least I’m pretty sure they can’t.” He massaged his forehead, wishing he could chase away the swiftly growing headache. “They sent an inspector out here a few days before the wedding, asking questions. Somehow they pinpointed the rift closure to this area. I didn’t tell him anything, but he requested a copy of Father’s ledgers.”

  “Those were carefully composed in case this happened.” Jericho tapped his fingers against his thigh as if he were doing sums in his head. “They won’t be able to prove anything from that.”

  “Yeah, but this Inspector Hovawart, he’s determined. I should’ve known he wouldn’t give up so easily. He doesn’t need to prove anything to take away Father’s license, just create enough suspicion in the Magicians’ Congress that they feel justified in the decision. It’s not like a court of law where you’re innocent until proven guilty.”

  Jericho groaned. “You should’ve told me.”

  “I know, but you and Rill were so happy, and I didn’t want to ruin that.” Auric dropped his gaze to his feet. “I didn’t want to worry you two, or Father, but in doing so, I let him get blindsided and now he’s dying because of my idiocy.”

  Jericho gripped Auric by the shoulder. “Hold up. Your dad isn’t dying, and even if he … this isn’t your fault. All right?”

  Closing his eyes, Auric tried to push away the image of his father’s unconscious face. “I’ll make it right. I’ll go to the Capital and explain everything. After all, we did it for the right reasons. If we hadn’t, the Fey energy would’ve poisoned everyone in the city. They can’t blame us for that.” He opened his eyes and tried to force his expression placid in spite of the nervous fluttering in his chest.

  “That’s a bad idea.” Jericho shook his head. “If you’re right, they can’t prove anything right now. We can tell our side of the story, but there’s no telling if they’ll believe us about our motives. If they don’t, they have our confession on record, and no one is going to care about our so-called good intentions.”

  Auric swallowed. Maybe Jericho was right. He tended to be right an annoying percentage of the time. “What do we do then?”

  Jericho scanned the letter again. “This part, about the matter being judged by a jury of your father’s peers, that suggests that this goes to trial. Does it?”

  “If Father appeals it.” Auric nodded. “I’m rusty on procedure, but if I remember correctly, there’s a set period in which Father can appeal the decision, and if he does, he’ll be granted a chance to argue his case and face whoever leveled the complaint against him, I’m assuming that would be this Hovawart character.”

  Jericho glanced towards the upper floor. “How long a period? Your father’s not fit to be arguing anything right now.”

  “A month? Maybe. Father has a copy of Magicians’ Guild bylaws somewhere. They haven’t changed in centuries.”

  “Can we argue for him?”

  Auric started. “We?”

  “Of course ‘we.’ Do you think I’d let you go through that alone? We got your dad into this together, and we’ll get him out.”

  “I suppose we can, especially if we point out he’s in ill-health.” Auric scratched his beard. “I have some school friends who have family influence with the Magicians’ Congress. My roommate at the Academy, Cordon Styles, has an uncle in office, I think. I’ll write him. See if he can—”

  “Not now.” Jericho pushed Auric towards the stairs. “Yes, do that first thing in the morning, but now, go sit with your father. He needs you.”

  Auric hesitated. There was so much that needed to be seen to. “What about the doctor?”

  “I’ll stay here and wait for him. Now go!”

  Auric stumbled up the stairs. He had to fix this. He couldn’t let his father lose everything because of what he’d done.

  Chapter Six

  Jericho stroked Rill’s hair as she rested with her head on his shoulder. Doctor Sculpin had been cloistered with Hedward for hours now. For most of it, Rill had paced outside the bedroom door, but finally, seeing her pace flag and her eyes drooping, Jericho had drawn her into a nearby sitting room and coaxed her to sit with him on a couch.

  Auric had retreated to his own quarters to write his politically-connected friend, and Iris—well, Iris refused to let the doctor bully her out of Hedward’s presence. The wide-eyed, middle-aged physician had been cowed by the fierce face she’d put fort
h when he suggested she leave.

  A door creaked open. Rill bounced off her husband’s lap and out into the hall. Jericho followed.

  Doctor Sculpin rubbed his eyes and gave the couple a weary smile. “He’s doing much better. Sleeping now, peacefully.”

  “Was it a stroke?” Rill grasped her skirts with trembling hands. Jericho came up behind her and placed his hands on her upper arms.

  “No, well, yes and no,” the doctor answered. “At first I suspected apoplexy, but the good news is the attack seems to have been minor, not a full stroke. I imagine he’ll be himself in a day or two.”

  Rill’s shoulders slumped in relief.

  “And the bad news?” Jericho asked before he could stop himself. Rill stiffened against him, and he winced.

  “These attacks are often precursors to more serious episodes, even full strokes. I can suggest a dietary regimen that will prevent his condition from worsening, as well as other small changes in habit, but it is of utmost importance that he avoids stress. Have him take a holiday, if at all possible.”

  “Of course. Auric, Jericho, and I can easily handle the shop.” Rill nodded. “Is there anything else we can do?”

  “I’ve discussed my recommendations with your mother. She seems more than capable of nursing him, and I will check in regularly, of course. For now, let him rest and keep him relaxed; a glass of wine in the evenings may help with that.”

  “Sounds easy enough.” Jericho exhaled a long breath. “Would you be willing to repeat all this to Auric?”

  The door opened behind the doctor and Iris emerged. Dark circles rested beneath her eyes, but she smiled.

  “Yes, where can I find young Master Auric?” The doctor glanced up and down the hall.

  “I’ll take you to him, Doctor,” Iris volunteered. “Thank you for coming so quickly …”

  Their voices faded down the hall.

  Rill turned and buried her face in Jericho’s shirt, her shoulders shaking.

  “Shh,” he soothed, massaging her back. “It’s all right. You heard the doctor. He’s going to be fine.”

  “I know, it’s just … I was so frightened.” She sniffled. “Thank you for being here. I’d have gone mad if I didn’t have you to hold onto.”

  “You can hold onto me whenever you need to. I think that was written on the license we signed.” He whispered into her ear.

  She laughed, and his heart eased. They kissed for a long moment.

  The grandfather clock down the hall chimed eleven. Rill yawned. “Well, we aren’t doing Dad any good standing out here, I suppose. Bed?”

  The muscles in Jericho’s neck and shoulders melted at the thought. “Yes, please.”

  “Wait up!” Auric burst into the hall. “Jericho, can we speak quickly?”

  Longing to snap “no” at his brother-in-law, sweep his wife up into his arms, and make a break for his bedroom, Jericho instead released Rill and whispered, “I’ll be there in a few minutes, all right?”

  “Don’t be too long.” She winked.

  His heart rate spiked, making it even harder to turn his attention to Auric.

  “You talked to the doctor?” Jericho asked as Rill disappeared towards their quarters.

  Auric nodded. “He seemed optimistic. I still don’t think Father should go to the Capital.”

  “No, you’re right. The doctor said he needed to relax and avoid stress.” Jericho dabbed at his forehead with his sleeve. “Arguing his case in court seems the exact opposite of a holiday.”

  “Yes, we’ll still have to take care of that.” Auric sighed. “I’d like to ask the magician at Mill River Crossing if he can loan Father one of his sons to help in the shop while we take care of things in the Capital. He has three sons, all older than I am, so they should be fully trained by now.”

  “So you want to leave immediately?”

  “The quicker we get ahead of this the better.”

  Jericho scratched the back of his neck. He didn’t want to leave Rill, but Auric was right: the longer they put off dealing with the accusations, the worse it would look for Hedward. “All right. We can make arrangements in the morning, but right now, I’m exhausted.”

  “Yeah, me too, but I’m not sure I can sleep.” Auric’s frown deepened. “I can’t believe I almost lost him, Jericho.”

  “Well, you didn’t, and you aren’t going to.” Jericho motioned down the hall towards Auric’s bedroom. “Go on. I’ve got to tell your sister I’m abandoning her for a few weeks.”

  Auric grimaced. “Good luck with that.”

  Jericho shuffled off to his bedroom. Out of habit, he knocked on the door.

  “Come in!” Rill called.

  He opened it and found her sitting at the end of the bed, her hair up in braids, already clad in her nightgown. So beautiful. He hated even more what he had to say.

  “You know you don’t have to do that,” she said.

  “Huh?” He shut the door and shrugged off his vest.

  “Knock. I mean, it isn’t as if you haven’t seen me in a state of undress before.” She lay on one side with her head propped up in her hand.

  “Oh.” He rested on the bed beside her and removed his boots. She tickled his back through his shirt. Stress always made Rill cuddly. It was how she soothed herself, he supposed. The signals she was giving off were unmistakable, and at any other time would’ve been more than welcome. The news about his imminent departure, however, was bound to kill that mood.

  Rill’s smile faded, and she sat up. “Jerry, what’s wrong? You look … did the doctor tell Auric something he didn’t tell me? Is Father …?”

  “No, no!” He held up his hand. “Your father is going to be fine, just like the doctor said. It’s just …” Just get it over with. He burst out with the full story: the letter, Auric’s revelation about the Capital inspector, their plan and that it would entail leaving for the Capital for an unknown period of time.

  Rill listened quietly, nodding every so often, until he finished.

  “Do you both have to go to the Capital?” she asked.

  “Technically, Auric could go alone,” Jericho said. “However, I don’t trust him to. Not that he wouldn’t represent us well, but he already hinted that he’d take the fall for this, and I want to be sure he doesn’t confess to something to spare the rest of us and end up in jail or worse.”

  Her mouth tightened. “Yes, because Auric is the one who has a history of making stupid sacrificial gestures to protect the people he loves with no regard for his own well-being. That’s definitely only Auric. No one else we know has ever done anything foolish like that.”

  Jericho’s face warmed. “Rill, that’s not fair.”

  She leaped from the bed and crossed her arms. “So you’re telling me that if you found out Auric was going to confess and there was nothing you could do to stop him, you wouldn’t rush to do it five minutes before him to spare him from the consequences?”

  He cleared his throat then forced what he hoped was a convincing smile. “Well, you have to admit, of the two of us, I have a better chance of surviving in prison.”

  From the expression on Rill’s face, she did not find this funny at all. He stood and reached for her hand. She angled away from him.

  “Oh, come on, Rill. I was joking.” He kissed the back of her neck.

  “But you would. I know you, and you would. I don’t want to lose Auric, Jerry, but I can’t lose you. Not now. Please, you can’t do anything stupid.”

  “I will do my best to avoid it.” He gently guided her to face him, but she dropped her gaze. His heart twisted. “Rill, this last month with you has been heaven, and I want to extend it into years, decades, a lifetime, but you know who I am. I can’t let Auric face this alone, and I have to be there to—”

  “Jerry, I’m almost two weeks late.”

  His brain tossed the words back and forth, trying to make some sense of them. “Late for what?” he asked slowly.

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, don’t prete
nd to be dense. Not now.”

  He held up his hand. “I’m not pretending.”

  She sighed and stroked his hair. “Jericho Carver, I think you’re going to be a father.”

  His thoughts seized, and he stared at Rill, her familiar face belying the strangeness of her words. “How?” he heard himself blurt out.

  Rill raised her eyebrows. “You can’t be serious.”

  “No, I mean, I know how, but we’ve only been married … I mean, I suppose …” He plopped onto the mattress, his eyes sweeping up and down her body. She didn’t look any different. “I just thought we’d have a lot more time before this happened.”

  “It happens when it happens.” She bit her bottom lip, her pale eyebrows melting together. “Jerry, you … you aren’t unhappy, are you? I mean, I thought you wanted—”

  “I do.” He took her hand and pulled her onto his lap. “I do, I swear, I do. It’s just, I’m not sure I’m ready for this.”

  Resting her head against his chest. “Perhaps I’m wrong. I didn’t intend to tell you until I had a chance to consult a physician, but if you’re leaving, if you’re facing this, I need you to know. I need you to understand that I can’t do this alone. I need you.”

  His arms tightened about her. “I know.” He buried his face in her hair.

  “We don’t have to tell anyone right away. For one thing, I’m not sure. For another, I don’t want everyone treating me like an egg about to hatch.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll try not to, but you’re right. For the time being, this is our secret.”

  Their lips met. She kissed his cheek, then nibbled his earlobe, sending a pleasant shiver through him.

  “One more thing,” she whispered. “You’re taking me with you.”

  Chapter Seven

  Lotta polished each wrench individually and placed them carefully in their pockets in her leather tool belt. The line of tools gleamed in the light of the oil lamp, for each had been carefully coated using a new alloy called chromium. The first time Lotta had seen the gleam of chrome, a feeling of awe had swept through her. It hadn’t taken her long to convince her father to replace her old but serviceable tools with a new chromium set. Oh, how he’d spoiled her.