The Artful Apprentice

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The Artful Apprentice Page 12

by Christopher Nuttall


  She forced herself to watch as transactions took place in absolute silence. A customer would hold up a handful of coins, haggling with the seller until they reached agreement. She wondered, morbidly, if there was any quality control at all. The alchemist guilds weren’t going to be enforcing quality and standardization over here. They’d be horrified at the mere suggestion. Who knew if the blood was truly virgin’s blood? She winced at the thought, then remembered that anyone who wanted the blood would have no qualms about extracting bloody revenge if they felt cheated.

  Void led her from stall to stall, never stopping more than a few minutes. One stall sold forbidden texts and tomes, ranging from titles she knew to books she’d never even known existed. Some of them promised the most elaborate curses, spells to kill one’s enemies in ways that would terrify everyone else; others promised the secrets of the deepest and darkest magics. She leaned forward, looking to see if there was anything on soul magic. There was nothing, as far as she could tell. And yet... she scowled as she saw a pair of books that had clearly come off a printing press. Someone was reproducing forbidden volumes for a hefty sum.

  And probably doing it here, she thought. If anyone can bear to stay here for long.

  Her legs started to hurt as they kept moving, going from tent to tent. One giant tent, easily large enough to host a small circus, was a slave market. Naked slaves — male and female — knelt on the stage, slave collars fixed around their necks. Emily felt Void’s grip tighten as the slaveowner forced a young girl to display herself to the crowd, the bids coming in fast and furious. Emily wanted to reach for her magic and destroy them all, the slave dealers and the bidders alike, but she couldn’t. The tent was draped in powerful wards. The next tent sold charmed weapons, ranging from the simple to the extremely complex. A handful were actually designed to kill their wielder. She could imagine someone finding a use for those.

  “Slaves,” she muttered.

  “You can buy anything here,” Void muttered back. “And no, you can’t do anything about it.”

  Emily glared at his back as they walked on, passing from stall to stall. A couple of small stalls — open air stalls — sold food and water. It looked repulsive. The sellers — a pair of warped people — didn’t seem surprised at their lack of custom. Emily wondered if they were trying to eke out a living or simply claiming a higher status than the slaves. Who knew what would happen if they didn’t have a stall? They might be snatched off the streets and put to work.

  Her eyes narrowed as they turned the corner. There were fewer people here, some clearly more important than others. They had escorts, cloaked men carrying very visible weapons. Void guided her to one side as a handful of men — she assumed they were men — strode past. Everyone else gave them plenty of room. She sensed waves of magic surrounding them, powerful enough to daunt anyone below a combat sorcerer. They could do whatever they liked and, as long as it stayed well away from the Allied Lands, no one would care.

  The city itself began to wear on her. The streets twisted in ways that hurt her mind. It felt as if she was crawling over a giant living thing, an entity so huge she couldn’t even begin to grasp its size. She remembered the creature she’d seen in the interdimensional space and shuddered, helplessly. It had created the Manavores and God alone knew what else. Had it had a hand in creating the Dark Ziggurat?

  It couldn’t have survived in our world, she told herself. But it could have created tools to manipulate us.

  Void turned, slightly. “Not long now,” he said, reassuringly. “We’ll be there soon.”

  Emily nodded, keeping her thoughts to herself as they walked through a smaller section of the marketplace. It struck her, suddenly, that the dark wizards and sorcerers had set up home in an alien realm, just as rats and insects moved into abandoned cars and made them their own. She wondered if the sorcerers understood the city’s creators any better than the rats and insects understood the human world surrounding them. It was quite possible they’d set up shop in the car’s engine. One day, the owner might come along, turn on the engine and roast the entire nest without having the slightest idea of what he’d done. Who knew what might happen here?

  Magic hung in the air as they entered a large building. Emily could feel hundreds of spells crawling through the air, some so old she wondered if they dated all the way back to the Dark Ziggurat’s creation. Lanterns hung from darkened walls, the light seemingly soaking into layer upon layer of black stone. She had the oddest feeling she was walking into the mouth of a terrible beast. The light illuminated black letters, carved into the wall... they faded in and out of visibility, lingering at the corner of her eye. She didn’t recognize the language. It looked so alien she wasn’t sure it was a language. The letters might have been runes or sigils instead.

  She sucked in her breath as she saw a giant hulking beast kneeling in front of an inner door. It looked like a stone gorilla, with strong muscles and nasty-looking teeth. It stood as they approached, moving with a strange humming sound that suggested it could move like lightning if the whim struck it. She had the feeling it was perfectly capable of hunting down and crushing any intruders without hesitation. It was definitely tough enough — she could sense nasty charms woven into the stone — to give anyone below a combat sorcerer a very hard time. And it reeked of tainted magic.

  Void held up a gloved hand. There was a long chilling pause, then the stone guardian returned to its kneeling pose. Void walked past and pushed open the door. Emily followed, feeling the back of her neck prickle as she stepped past the guardian. It didn’t move, but she had the feeling it was watching her. Void might be welcome here, wherever here was. She wasn’t so sure about herself.

  “Don’t try to come here without me,” Void said, as the door closed. “If you get caught, they’ll do worse than kill you.”

  Emily eyed his back. “And where is here?”

  “A meeting place, off the grid,” Void said. He walked through a second door, into what looked like a comfortable gentleman’s club. A handful of guests sat in armchairs, reading books or talking in low voices. Their faces and words were blurred by privacy charms. Tobacco smoke hung in the air. “And you can take your hood off now, if you wish.”

  He swept off his own. Emily hesitated, then followed suit. There were so many wards in the chamber that the background stench of the city was almost unnoticeable. And yet... the more she thought about it, the more she felt it nagging at the back of her mind. She felt uncomfortable, as if she were trespassing in the lair of a deadly creature, one that might wake up and attack at any moment. It was hard to escape the sense she was being watched by something utterly inhuman.

  Her hair felt damp and cold as Void led her past a cluster of blurred guests and into another room. It looked like someone had taken a sitting room and blended it with a spellchamber; a pair of armchairs, a comfortable sofa and a sizable drinks cabinet dominating a corner, with the rest of the space open for spellcasting. An older man sat in one of the armchairs, with a younger man standing behind him. Emily glanced at him and saw him looking back, quizzically. He didn’t seem to recognize her. She wasn’t too surprised. There weren’t many paintings and pictures of her that looked anything like her. The artists had worked from third or fourth-hand descriptions and it showed.

  “Emily,” Void said. “This is Master Lucknow. And his apprentice, Jan.”

  Emily remembered her manners and dropped Master Lucknow a rough curtsy, studying him through lowered eyes. He looked to be in his sixties, with short white hair and a severe face that suggested his apprentice wasn’t having an easy time of it. And yet, she felt the magic crackle around him. Master Lucknow was powerful. His form gave an impression of strength that made it clear anyone who messed with him would regret it. His tight black suit made him look like a ghost at the feast.

  She lifted her eyes to Jan and saw him studying her with equal intensity. He was tall, with slightly tinted skin, brown eyes and short dark hair. She thought he was about as muscular as Cat o
r Jade, but it was hard to tell. His robes hid everything below the neckline. Magic glowed around him, tightly focused and controlled. She felt a flicker of attraction, mingled with guilt for letting herself be distracted.

  “Matters in Dragora are threatening to grow out of hand,” Master Lucknow said. His voice was as stern as his appearance. “It may require a personal intervention.”

  Void sounded unconcerned. “Was Lady Damia right, then?”

  “We believe so,” Master Lucknow said. “King Clarence is a fool.”

  Emily glanced from one to the other, feeling as if she’d come into the discussion well after it had started. Alassa had mentioned Dragora once, claiming the king wanted her to marry his son, but it wasn’t going to happen for political reasons. The kingdom was right on the other side of the Allied Lands. Emily wished she’d paid more attention. Alassa had dismissed the suit so quickly that it hadn’t made more than a brief impression on Emily’s mind.

  She caught Jan’s eye and saw him wink at her. She winked back, feeling completely out of place. She and Jan could talk somewhere else, without their respective masters... she shivered as she remembered Void’s warning. They couldn’t go off alone, not here. The Dark Ziggurat was far from safe.

  “Kings usually are,” Void said. “And this one is more foolish than most.”

  His voice hardened. “Leave the matter in my hands. I’ll deal with it.”

  Master Lucknow indicated Emily. “Don’t you already have your hands full?”

  “I’ll be the judge of that,” Void said. “Emily, would you and Jan like to spar?”

  Emily blinked. “Sir?”

  Void grinned at her. “You can show us what you’ve learned... what both of you have learned,” he said. “It might teach you both a handful of useful lessons.”

  And keep us out of your hair, Emily thought, tartly. She rather thought she didn’t have a choice. She could argue with Void in the tower, but not here. Jan probably had the same problem. Master Lucknow looked like the type of tutor who’d beat an apprentice for answering back. Which of us will learn the most?

  “Yes, Master,” she said. “Jan?”

  Jan looked as if he was no more pleased than Emily herself. “If that is your wish, Master, I shall obey.”

  “An excellent attitude,” Master Lucknow said. His voice was so flat it took Emily a second to realize he was teasing his apprentice. “What a shame you display it so rarely.”

  Jan winked at Emily, again. “Well? Shall we?”

  “It looks like we have no choice,” Emily said. “Do we?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  EMILY HAD NEVER LIKED DUELING. She’d been taught the basics at Mountaintop, and Gordian had made her set up a dueling club at Whitehall, but she’d regarded it as little more than play-fighting. Sergeant Miles had taught her that duels — with fixed rules, penalties and referees — bore very little resemblance to actual fighting. A duelist was supposed to operate within the rules, while a real fighter fought to win. And there were no rules in actual fighting.

  She eyed Jan warily as she stepped over the protective runes. The spellchamber wards felt strong, as if they were used to adult sorcerers spending hours trying to kill each other. She supposed that was a good thing. Jan wasn’t trying to intimidate her, which suggested he knew what he was doing. A person who tried to scare their opponent, in her experience, would almost certainly be a blowhard. And they wouldn’t know what to do if she shrugged off their attacks and fought back.

  Jan nodded to her, curtly. “Mountaintop rules?” Or League rules?”

  “Mountaintop rules will do,” Emily said. She frowned, thoughtfully. He didn’t look much older than herself. If he’d been at Mountaintop, they might have met. But she didn’t remember him. “I don’t want to blow up the building.”

  “That would be bad,” Jan agreed, dryly. “On three?”

  Emily braced herself. Jan wasn’t wasting power on posing. He stood like a boxer, ready to close with his opponent or put some distance between them. She counted down the seconds silently, feeling the wards growing stronger. Jan lifted his hand and launched a simple hex at her. Emily stepped to one side, allowing it to strike the wards and harmlessly dissipate. Jan’s smile grew brighter. He was either teasing his master or trying to amuse her. She couldn’t tell.

  She cast a spell herself, careful to maintain a thread of magic linking her to the hex. Jan had no trouble dodging it. She yanked on the thread, steering the hex into his back. Jan pretended to jump in pain as the hex struck his wards and vanished. Emily rolled her eyes at him. She knew the hex wasn’t that powerful. She knew it wouldn’t have punched through his wards. She knew he was playing the fool.

  Master Lucknow cleared his throat. “Are you just going to cast random spells for the next hour?”

  Jan shrugged, then brought down his hand. A stream of hexes erupted from his fingertips and flashed towards Emily. She shaped a shield in her mind, then cast the spell and thrust it back at him. His hexes snapped out, a second before the rest of her shield slammed into his body. He was shoved back, hard. His back hit the wards as Emily launched a force punch at his chest. He barely had time to counter it before she could smash his ribs to powder.

  He tapped his head in salute. “Brute force,” he said. “Very... brutal.”

  Emily didn’t give him time to recover. She cast another series of spells, trying to hit him from multiple directions. Jan jumped up, flipping himself over as he levitated and rained spells on her from above. Emily ducked, then reached out with a spell of her own and yanked him back down. Jan was good, she admitted. A year or two ago, she would have been slammed to the floor, hard. Jan caught himself, flipping himself back over even as he cast more spells. He was very good.

  Emily smirked, her heart racing as she pushed forward. Her magic shimmered around her, a series of spells she’d taken apart and rebuilt over the last few weeks. Jan looked surprised, then worried, as they locked horns. He had no shortage of raw power — and he knew what to do with it — but Emily was breaking down his protections through a combination of skill and force. Jan frowned, then cast a full-power cancellation spell. His wards shattered, but so did her attacks. He came at her, fist extended, before she could rebuild her spells. Instead, she dodged.

  No point in trading blows with someone bigger and faster, she told herself, as Jan spun around. His magic was rebuilding with terrifying speed. And his defenses are still weak.

  She hit his wards hard enough to force him to rebuild them again, then tried to sneak a smaller hex through his defenses. The spell should have turned him into a frog — or at least forced him to waste time countering it. But it did nothing. Emily realized, too late, that he’d tuned his wards to absorb magic, an instant before he shoved a spell at her. The force of the impact picked her up and threw her right across the circle. She slammed into the wards with terrifying force, slid down and landed on her bottom. Jan laughed. She gathered her power and struck back, picking herself up as quickly as she could. He’d caught her by surprise.

  “Clever,” she said. Her magic billowed out as he ran towards her. “Very clever.”

  She transfigured the ground below his feet to ice. He slipped. His magic flipped him over, too late to keep him from hitting the ground. Emily didn’t give him time to recover. She brought her magic down as hard as she could, practically landing on top of him and tearing his wards apart. Jan looked irked as his defenses weakened. He was caught in a bind. If he devoted his power to solidifying his wards, she’d beat him; if he tried to strike back at her, she’d beat him quicker. She felt his wards start to give way and locked eyes with him. The rules said he could surrender now, if he wished. He didn’t have to be battered into submission.

  Jan brought up his legs, nearly throwing her off. He was strong. Emily gritted her teeth and pushed down, resisting the urge to crush his throat. Sergeant Miles and Lady Barb had taught her to end a fight as quickly as possible, even if it meant harming or killing her opponent. But Jan di
dn’t deserve to die...

  He relaxed. “I give up,” he said. “Alas! All is lost!”

  Emily rolled off him and sat up. Her body was aching. Her magic felt as if she’d pushed it to the limit. Jan looked just as tired. A nasty bruise was forming on his cheek. She wasn’t sure just when he’d hit it. Perhaps it had been when she’d smacked him to the ground. Her lips quirked, remembering the times she’d tested herself against Cat. The poor man had had his ribs smashed in one contest.

  “You did well,” she said. “You caught me by surprise a couple of times.”

  “Likewise.” Jan sat up. “That shield trick was quite effective.”

  Emily looked up. Void and Master Lucknow were still talking in low voices. They didn’t seem interested in their apprentices. She stood, brushing down the gown. Jan stumbled to his feet beside her, then shrugged. He didn’t seem to want to disturb his master. Emily tended to agree. She didn’t want to disturb them either.

  “We’ll have to do it again,” Jan said. “Somewhere else, though.”

  Emily nodded. “You studied at Mountaintop, didn’t you?”

  “I was in the year above you,” Jan said. “I don’t know if you remember me.”

  “No.” Emily tried to look apologetic. Older students at both Whitehall and Mountaintop were not encouraged to befriend their younger counterparts. Her peers had been shocked when she’d befriended Frieda. “I don’t remember many people outside the dorm.”

  “I don’t blame you.” Jan headed over to the drinks’ cabinet. “Do you want something to drink?”

  “Juice, please,” Emily said. “What do you think of” — she waved a hand at the wall — “this place?”

 

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