And poor Rogan is dead, she thought. At least his killer is dead too.
She stepped into her room and closed the door behind her. A pile of letters sat on the table, including a handful from Jan. She felt a pang of guilt, even though Void had told her she wasn’t allowed to communicate with anyone outside the kingdom. She could at least have dropped him a note! Caleb, Frieda and a handful of others had also written to her. She promised herself she’d read them as quickly as possible and reply, perhaps in a day or two. She was just too tired. She reached into her pocket and touched a piece of wood. Her eyes narrowed. She hadn’t put it in her pocket, had she? She took the charred wood out and put it on the table. It wasn’t hers...
... And then the memories started to unlock themselves.
... The curse — Randor’s death-curse — glows as she places it into the valve and hooks up the battery...
... Eve screams as the curse tears into her mind, her eyes jerking open as her power starts to fade...
... Emily picks up the little girl and holds her, rocking her gently...
... Emily sneaks the girl out of the castle...
Emily staggered as the full weight of the memories slammed into her thoughts. Randor’s curse. The curse he’d used on her. The curse that could only be powered by a death — or a battery. The curse... she’d used it, knowing it was the only hope. Eve’s power had faded and died the moment the curse took root. She breathed a sigh of relief, knowing she hadn’t killed an innocent girl. Eve’s powers would remain locked away until she came of age. It should be safe to remove the curse once she’d passed puberty.
Safe enough, she thought, dryly. She’ll be no better or worse than the rest of us.
The remainder of the memories flowed into place. She’d taken Eve to Melissa, as Melissa owed Emily a favor. Melissa and Markus had agreed to adopt the girl, to accept her into the family until she came of age. It wasn’t an ideal solution, but it would have to do. She couldn’t leave the girl in the castle. Too many people already knew the truth. Some would try to use her, some would try to kill her...
We’ll tell them the truth when Eve comes into her magic, Emily told herself. She felt a pang of guilt. Elena was old enough to be trusted with the truth, wasn’t she? Eve can decide what she wants to do when she grows up.
She sighed as she sat on the bed. She’d made sure Void wouldn’t know the truth either, just in case he decided that keeping Eve alive was too much of a risk. She would have to pack the memories away again, sooner or later. And...
And I have to continue with my apprenticeship, she thought. She was angry at her master for putting her in such a position without even a hint of warning, but she knew she couldn’t stop now. Void had taught her enough to make her hungry for more. On Thursday, I go back to work.
She smiled, despite everything, then lay back on the bed and closed her eyes.
Epilogue
SIMON CROUCHED IN HIS CORNER OF the tavern, trying not to notice the cockroaches as they swarmed across the floor. He’d ordered a beer, but he was afraid to drink. There had been a very nasty expression on the bartender’s face when he’d asked for a drink, going through a list of options until the man had finally poured him a beer. The tavern was not the sort of place he’d have been caught dead, only a few short days ago, but there was nowhere else to go. Lady Emily had made it clear he was dead if he ever showed his face again.
He hunched into his chair, cursing the unfairness of the world. He’d had no choice. He’d had no choice! The king had been his lord and master, even before he’d sworn the oaths. Death hadn’t been an option, not for him. He’d done everything the king had ordered and... he stared down at his scarred hands. It had cost him everything. The Lord Regent had already put a price on his head. He glanced at the toughs in the corner, laughing uproariously as they quaffed beer and flirted with the barmaids. If they knew who he was, they’d try to grab him. And if he used magic to escape, he’d merely draw more attention to himself.
It wasn’t my fault, he thought, numbly. He still couldn’t believe how far he’d fallen. He hadn’t even thought to grab some money before leaving the castle... he hadn’t even realized, not really, that there would be no going back. It really wasn’t my fault.
He shuddered as he saw a drunkard pissing against the far wall. He didn’t want to hide here, amidst the dregs of society, but where else could he go? Lady Emily would have reported him to the White Council. The Lord Regent would have quietly tipped off the other monarchs and aristocrats right across the Allied Lands. Simon had no illusions. He wasn’t powerful enough to hide for long, nor did he have the sort of knowledge he could trade for protection. He could head south, or travel into the mountains, but neither one seemed very promising. He was doomed to sell his talent for coppers.
If I’m lucky, he told himself. There were worse ways to earn money. A lot worse. I could...
A slim figure appeared beside him and sat down. Simon glanced up, surprised. The figure wore a long cape and cowl, a faint glamour hiding her face, but... she was unquestionably female. She looked a year or two older than himself, one hand covered by a glove. She was about as out of place, in the dingy tavern, as himself.
“Simon, is it not?” Her voice was light, breathy. He thought he heard a hint of aristocracy in her tone, although she was certainly foreign. “You’re a hard man to track down.”
Simon eyed her, warily. She looked slim and frail, but that was meaningless. Lady Emily hadn’t looked any stronger, yet she’d felled necromancers. Simon had sensed her power. The newcomer... she was masking well, but he could sense the magic under her skin. If she wanted to take him, she could.
“I try,” he said, finally. It had only been two days since he’d left the court. Clearly, he hadn’t hidden as well as he’d thought. “Who are you?”
The woman ignored the question. “Do you want to stay here forever?”
Simon glanced towards the toughs. The barmaid had removed her shirt, allowing the half-drunk men to paw at her breasts. It was a sickening sight, utterly disgusting. Simon had cut a swathe though the ladies of the court, particularly the ones who appreciated what he could do for them, but they’d been dignified even when they’d been taking off their dresses. The barmaid... he shuddered and looked away. She was a world away from the women he’d known.
“No,” he said, finally. “Why do you ask?”
“My name is Nanette,” the woman said. Her face slipped out of the shadow. It was cold and hard. “And I’m here to make you an offer you can’t refuse.”
End of Book 19
Emily Will Return In:
Oathkeeper
Coming Soon
Appendix: Master-Apprentice Relationships
ALTHOUGH THE MASTER-APPRENTICE SYSTEM EXISTED far longer than any of the currently extant magic schools, it was not until the rise of the empire that the system was formalized. Previously, it was not easy to find an apprentice who had a genuine talent for the master’s chosen subject and, as masters often came to realize, choosing the wrong apprentice could prove disastrous. An apprentice might not, at best, have an affinity for the subject; at worst, the apprentice might lack background knowledge or rebel against the master. By ensuring that young magicians went to school first, the empire gave them a chance to discover their affinities and learn details their masters, experienced magicians, wouldn’t think to teach them until it was too late. The reformed system was so much better than anything that had gone before it that it survived, largely intact, the fall of the empire.
Masters are free to choose, as a general rule, who they will take as their apprentice. It is not uncommon, of course, for a powerful family to push for their child to be selected, but it is rarer than one might suppose. The child must have a degree of affinity for the subject for there to be any hope of completing the apprenticeship. As a general rule, prospective apprentices write to masters and request apprenticeships; it is rarer, but not completely unknown, for a master to contact a brilliant student
first. The apprenticeship must be approved by the White Council, but this is generally taken as little more than a formality.
The Master and the Apprentice are bound together by a trio of blood oaths. The Master swears to teach the student to the best of his ability, to impart knowledge in a manner the student can understand and generally guide them towards attaining their mastery. When he feels the student is ready to take the exams, he must put the student’s name forward for examination. He must not do anything that detracts from the steady progress towards mastery (i.e. he can put the apprentice to work, but he must allow the apprentice to study too.)
The Apprentice swears to honor his master, keep his Master’s trade secrets (although he is permitted to use them, upon attaining his mastery) and work towards his mastery as soon as possible. Oaths of absolute obedience are rarely included, as this can impede development of the apprentice’s own style, but they do tend to include strong inclinations towards obeying the Master.
The third oath creates a semi-parental relationship between the two. The Master may enjoy considerable authority over the Apprentice, to the point he can legally beat the Apprentice bloody, but the oath ensures such punishments will not be deliberately unreasonable or fatal. (The oath also prevents sexual relationships between the two.) The Master will feel a strong urge to do the best he can for the Apprentice, while the Apprentice will often feel love and trust for the Master. The relationship fades upon the Apprentice reaching his mastery, but it isn’t uncommon for the two to remain close for the rest of their lives.
Masters are expected to feed, clothe and provide supplies for their apprentices. Just what constitutes a reasonable level of provision is hotly debated; no one, including the apprentices, wants to see the masters bankrupting themselves. Some masters give their apprentices a cash allowance, others choose to let them earn money themselves or draw it from their (presumably wealthy) parents. Apprentices are permitted one day off every two weeks, which they may use as they see fit. The master rarely has any say in what the apprentice does during that time, unless it impinges on the apprenticeship in some way.
Precisely how the master is compensated for his time is negotiated prior to the oathtaking. An apprentice from a wealthy family may pay his master a fee for his services, without any further obligation. A poorer apprentice may trade his services as an assistant in exchange for lessons (for example, he may work in his master’s shop or brew potions for sale) or agree to do favors for the master later in life. The latter is regarded as chancy, at least partly because it is difficult to set legally-binding terms in advance. A former apprentice may not be in any position to keep whatever agreement he makes with his master.
It is unusual for an apprenticeship to fail completely, at least partly because of the combination of pre-apprenticeship education and the third oath. By custom, there are only a handful of acceptable reasons to dissolve an apprenticeship bond ahead of time; it is unusual for a dismissed apprentice to find another master unless the blame is placed squarely on the previous master. The death of the previous master is, perhaps, the only circumstances in which there will be little, if any, blame pointed at the apprentice. (Unless, of course, the apprentice is accidentally responsible for his master’s death.)
There’s no hard and fast rule for how long an apprenticeship should take before the apprentice reaches his mastery. The master is obliged to suggest, at least, that the apprentice should be tested when the master feels he can pass his exams. The apprentice is under no obligation to take the exams immediately, although it is rare for an apprentice to pass up the chance to reach his mastery once the door is open. Depending on the subject, the normal length of an apprenticeship is two to five years. The record (currently held by Jade) is one.
About the author
Christopher G. Nuttall was born in Edinburgh, studied in Manchester, married in Malaysia and currently living in Scotland, United Kingdom with his wife and two sons. He is the author of thirty novels from various publishers and over fifty self-published novels.
Current and forthcoming titles published by Twilight Times Books
Schooled in Magic YA fantasy series
Schooled in Magic — book 1
Lessons in Etiquette — book 2
A Study in Slaughter — book 3
Work Experience — book 4
The School of Hard Knocks — book 5
Love’s Labor’s Won — book 6
Trial By Fire — book 7
Wedding Hells — book 8
Infinite Regress — book 9
Past Tense — book 10
The Sergeant’s Apprentice — book 11
Fists of Justice – book 12
The Gordian Knot – book 13
Graduation Day – book 14
Alassa’s Tale – book 14.5
The Princess in the Tower – book 15
The Broken Throne – book 16
Cursed – book 17
Mirror Image – book 18
The Artful Apprentice – book 19
The Decline and Fall of the Galactic Empire military SF series
Barbarians at the Gates — book 1
The Shadow of Cincinnatus — book 2
The Barbarian Bride — book 3
Chris has also produced The Empire’s Corps series, the Outside Context Problem series and many others. He is also responsible for two fan-made Posleen novels, both set in John Ringo’s famous Posleen universe. They can both be downloaded from his site.
Website: http://www.chrishanger.net/
Blog: http://chrishanger.wordpress.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ChristopherGNuttall
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