“Aha.” Mother emerged from the cabinet holding a folded sheet of paper with his name written on it. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” He took the note, but he couldn’t read it right there in front of everyone. “Bye. I’ll see you all on Restday.”
He made his escape out the door to a chorus of farewells. He raised a hand in greeting to the handful of guests who’d trickled back from the plaza as he passed through the front room and into the street.
It was too dark outside to read the note. He strode through the streets toward the Mother’s Hall until he found an open window with lamplight spilling through, a late-working tailor busily stitching inside. He kept out of sight to the side so he wouldn’t bother her. The note was damp where his clammy hands had clutched it. He unfolded it and read the brief words.
Josiah,
Remember me? Your parents told me you’re a wizard now and living in Elathir, so I guess it might be a long time before you get this. My grandmother died, so I got to come to Korisan sooner than I thought I would. I’m apprenticed to Master Fira Weaverkin Basketmaker. Our shop is the biggest one on Basket Street. Come by and visit whenever you’re in Korisan. I’d like to see you again.
Ledah
Josiah swallowed. The sun had set long ago. Probably Ledah’s new master would think he was rude if he dropped by so late. But at least he wouldn’t be interrupting their work. Elkan wasn’t expecting him back at the Hall at any particular time. He’d just think Josiah’s visit with his family had run long. Sar was probably asleep already.
He set out for Basket Street. It wasn’t very far out of his way. He easily located the largest shop, which had Master Fira’s name painted on the door. Before he could lose courage, he knocked.
From inside he heard faint surprised voices. Footsteps clicked, and the door swung open. A woman about the age of his mother regarded him quizzically. “Yes? What do you need?”
“Um, I’m Josiah. Josiah Potterkin Wizard. I, uh, know your apprentice, Ledah.” He held out the crumpled note. “She invited me to visit her when I was in Korisan, and I’m, um, here now, and I thought, maybe, if she’s not busy—”
“Josiah?” Ledah’s voice was startled, but Josiah was almost certain it was also pleased.
His heart soared. “Hey, Ledah.”
She appeared beside her master. Josiah gulped. She’d matured a lot in the past two years. When he’d met her in Darilla she’d been a girl, older than him but still obviously not an adult. Now her body had completed its transformation into a woman’s, and her bearing had the confident poise of someone who was sure of her skill and comfortable in her position.
Master Fira looked back and forth between them. “How nice that your old friend is here, Ledah. Would you like to come in, young man? There’s some chicken left from the evening meal, if you’re hungry.”
“I’ve eaten already,” he told her as she opened the door wider and he stepped inside. He grinned awkwardly at Ledah, taking heart from the way her smile spread wide in sincere welcome. “But maybe a glass of water…”
“Of course. Come, sit down, make yourself comfortable.”
Master Fira’s shop was set up much like Josiah’s parents’ and most of the rest in Korisan, with the big front room dedicated to displays of her wares and a small cozy kitchen and sitting room behind. Ledah dragged a chair from the table to join the two by the hearth and gestured for Josiah to sit down. “So, how are you doing? I’ve heard all kind of rumors about what you’ve been up to. Did you really travel across the ocean?”
“Yeah.” Josiah accepted the cup of cool well water Master Fira brought. She sat down in a rocking chair, an expression of interest on her face. So for the second time that evening Josiah recounted his exploits in Tevenar and Ramunna. He tried to keep things brief, but Ledah listened so avidly he found himself going into detail about how he’d helped with the insulin and his current efforts on the blasting powder mill.
When he mentioned their plans for an early start in the morning, Master Fira rose with a yawn. “You youngsters can deal with lack of sleep much better than I can. Ledah, don’t keep him much longer. And lock up after you see him out. Good-night.” She bustled around the kitchen for a moment, then headed upstairs.
Josiah’s heart pounded. “That’s enough about me. What have you been doing? How do you like Korisan?”
“I liked it very much before the hordes descended on us. Now, though—we’ve stayed so busy weaving boring utilitarian baskets I haven’t had any time to work on my own designs. And Master Fira is convinced it’s our duty to contribute whatever we can to the effort to defend Tevenar, so she’s barely been charging the cost of materials. My last allowance was next to nothing. Not that it matters when there’s no chance to go out and spend it.” She made a face. “It seems like the more people come to Korisan, the fewer I get to meet. That was the best thing about coming here. All the people.”
Josiah stared into the fire. “I guess you met lots of guys. Before, I mean.” He echoed the question she’d once asked him. “Anyone special?”
She shrugged. “A few. I admit, I got a little carried away when I first got here. I was seeing a seventh-year apprentice watcher for a while, but we got bored with each other and split up. There was a journeyman trader who was bound and determined to wait for me so we could stand up together. I had to keep telling him I’m not planning to settle down for a long time. Finally he believed me and moved on. I was just as glad. There were plenty of others who were interested in having a good time without getting too serious.” She shot him a smoky look, one corner of her lips tilting up.
Well, that made it abundantly clear what she wanted. What about him? He swallowed. Did he want to have a good time without getting too serious? The Mother’s power made it easy to fool around without having to worry about consequences. Sar would be happy to accommodate him. Assuming Ledah hadn’t already been making regular visits to the Hall. He was sixteen now, after all. Lots of apprentices his age were getting together. Some of them, like Dari and Rovia, were committed to each other, but plenty weren’t.
Why else had he come here tonight?
He looked away. His voice sounded hoarse in his ears. “Sounds like fun.”
Her voice took on a teasing tone. “What about you? I bet you’ve left a whole string of broken hearts in your wake.”
Josiah tried to match the casual attitude she’d used. “Not really. I mean, there was one Tevenaran girl. It’s a long story, but she ended up in Ramunna, too. But then it turned out her family belongs to a group that call themselves the Faithful who believe all sorts of bizarre things. Including that the Mother is evil and her power corrupts people. So obviously that makes it impossible for her to be friends with a wizard. Let alone anything else.”
Ledah made a sympathetic noise. For a moment he wondered if he should go on. But if he was going to do this, he was going to be honest with her from the beginning. That way there wouldn’t be any misunderstandings. “And there’s a Ramunnan. Kevessa. The daughter of Professor Gevan, that I was telling you about. The Mother chose her as the first Ramunnan wizard. I think we might have a chance, eventually. But she stayed in Ramunna to help establish the Wizards’ Guild there. I hope to go back someday, but realistically, depending on what happens with this war, we might never see each other again. And neither of us promised anything.” He swallowed. “So for right now…” He spread his hands and shrugged.
Ledah nodded. He was sure she understood what he was saying. She jumped up from her chair and grabbed his hand, tugging it. “Come see some of the baskets I made before we got busy. I’ve been sneaking a little time in the evenings to keep working on the technique I’m developing.”
He yielded to her urging and followed as she grabbed a candle and led him into the basket-filled front room. On a shelf in the far corner stood a row of graceful openwork baskets. Ledah set the candle down and handed one to him. “See how I’ve twisted the pieces of cane together? Grandmother showed me how to do
the basic single twist, but I’ve been experimenting with different ways of combining multiple twists in patterns.”
“It’s beautiful,” Josiah said with complete honesty. He traced one strand of an elaborate interwoven panel. “It’s like lace, almost. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Ledah glowed with pleasure at his praise. “I’m still not happy with the transition back to regular weaving. There’s always this extra loop left hanging with nothing to join it to. But sooner or later I’ll figure out how to deal with it.” She took the basket from him and put it back on the shelf, picking up a broad flat basket. “See, this one is based on a traditional threshing basket. Since we don’t have a grist mill in Darilla we have to thresh all our grain by hand. You put the pounded grain in here, and toss it into the air.” She demonstrated the motion. “The wind carries the chaff away, and the kernels fall back in.” She held up the basket with a rueful laugh. “Not that this one would work for that. The grain would fall right through the holes. But the big flat surface gives me lots of room to experiment. I was thinking it would look nice hung on a wall.” She held it up, and Josiah expressed suitable admiration. He could easily picture it decorating some rich guildmaster’s home.
Ledah put the basket back in its place. She stepped close to Josiah. Reaching for his hands, she twined her fingers in his. “Remember, back in Darilla?”
He took a deep breath and drew her toward him. “How could I forget?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Did you enjoy it as much as I did?”
“I don’t know. How much did you enjoy it?” He put his arms around her waist. Her body arched as he pressed his fingers into the small of her back.
“Very much,” she whispered as she pulled his head down to hers. Her lips were as soft and warm as he remembered, but this time she was much more assured, and led him confidently into deeper intimacies. He let go of all thought and reveled in the pleasure of her mouth and the warmth of her body pressed tight to his.
After a long, lovely time she pulled back a little, giving him a lazy, satisfied smile. She raised a hand to stroke his cheek. “Well?”
“Yes. Very much. Very, very much.” He reached hungrily for her lips again, and with a throaty laugh she welcomed him.
He lost track of time, not knowing or caring how much had passed. His mind drifted, drunk on sensation, oblivious to anything but what Ledah was doing and how he was responding.
Without warning a vivid image appeared before his mind’s eye. Ledah’s wide, shallow, lace-bottomed basket installed in the mill, full of damp blasting powder. It shook back and forth as the water wheel drove the gears. Blasting powder sifted through the holes in neat, even clumps.
He pulled away with an exclamation, the excitement of discovery overwhelming everything else. “Ledah!”
“What?” she asked, half annoyed, half amused.
“Your basket, the big flat one. Could you make more like that? Each one with holes of different sizes, from a little bigger than those, down to very small?” He demonstrated the dimensions he wanted with his fingers. “The pattern wouldn’t have to be so fancy.”
“That would be easy.” She shook her head, laughing incredulously. “Whatever do you want them for?”
He hugged her exuberantly. “The mill,” he told her. At her blank look, he whirled to scoop up the basket from the shelf and show it to her. “We were going to use metal sieves, but they bump into each other and make sparks. But wicker won’t do that. And this is thin and strong enough to work, I think.”
Ledah’s disappointment at the interruption receded as she grasped what Josiah was saying. “Willow would be even stronger, and just as thin.”
“How long does it take you to make a basket like this?” he asked. “It would have to be bigger, but not much.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “A few hours, maybe.”
“That’s perfect. Can you come out to the mill first thing in the morning? Bring whatever supplies and materials you think you might use. I’ll show you exactly what we need.” He spun away and strode toward the door. “I have to tell Master Meira. She’ll be so excited. If this works we’ll be able to start making blasting powder tomorrow like we planned, or at worst only a day or two late. Wait until you see an explosion, it’s amazing.” He waved his hands to express what his words couldn’t capture.
She hurried to get in front of him before he could push the door open. “I’ll be there. I’ve wanted to do something to help defeat the Ramunnans, but I never thought making baskets could be important.”
“This is going to be hugely important, I promise.”
“I can tell.” Her lips twisted into a wry pout. “But really, Josiah, do you have to rush off right this minute?” Her expression took on a self-deprecating resignation. “Although I suppose you weren’t enjoying yourself much after all, if you were thinking about work.”
He suddenly understood what his actions must look like to her. “It wasn’t like that,” he protested. “I wasn’t thinking about anything else. The idea just popped into my head.”
“Of course it did.” Her voice was heavy with sarcasm.
“No, I swear.” He stepped forward to take her in his arms and kiss her again, to show her he meant it. But this time he really was distracted, his desire to hurry back and tell Master Meira about his idea warring with his desire to lose himself in the pleasure of Leda’s touch. He tried to concentrate, but before long she broke off the kiss.
“Go on,” she said with a sigh. “I can tell I’m not going to get your full attention. Maybe another time.”
“Are you sure?” How far would she have taken him, if his stupid brain hadn’t interrupted them? “I’m sorry. I really do want… I mean, I’m still interested in getting together.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said with a dismissive wave. “We’ve got plenty of time. We’ll see what happens.”
At least she wasn’t so offended she wanted nothing more to do with him. “All right.”
She let him kiss her again, though he could tell her heart wasn’t in it. He had a sinking feeling he’d spoiled things between them, no matter what she said.
He pulled away. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“See you.” She let him out of the shop. As he set off he heard it swing shut, and the click of the key turning in the lock.
By the time he got to Meira’s camp, he’d managed to set aside his chagrin and recover much of the excitement of his idea. Meira looked gratifyingly thoughtful as he described the basket and explained its advantages. She nodded slowly. “I think it’s worth a try. Good work.”
Her praise completed the restoration of his confidence. His thoughts buzzed as he hurried back to the Mother’s Hall, changed into his nightclothes, and crawled into bed. Ledah hadn’t really been that upset. Probably they would have stopped soon, anyway. She couldn’t have intended to do much more than kiss when they’d only just gotten reacquainted. They barely knew each other. Now they could take some time to build a real friendship before they went any farther with their physical relationship. Before long she’d be just as eager as she’d been at first.
In that case… He reached out with his thoughts. Sar?
The donkey stirred where he was drowsing next to Josiah’s pallet in the corner of the apprentice barracks. His mental voice was sleepy and grumpy. What?
Josiah swallowed. He probably should have waited until morning when they were going through their normal hygiene routine. Each day they checked both their bodies for incipient infections, adjusted the growth of hair and nails and hooves to keep them at manageable lengths, and did anything else necessary to make sure they were both healthy and functioning at full capacity.
But he’d already woken Sar up, so he’d better make his request now. If he waited until morning he might lose his nerve. He stared at the ceiling, his face hot. I’d like you to make me infertile.
Thank the Mother, the donkey didn’t react with anything other than a twi
tch of one ear and a few steps to bring him to Josiah’s side. All right. He put his head down where Josiah could reach it. When his hand touched the donkey’s cheek, a warm rush of the Mother’s power took care of the matter quickly and efficiently, just as they’d often done for patients in the Hall. Any particular reason?
I just think it’s time. It wasn’t like this changed anything. It was the responsible thing to do in case it ever became an issue. Add it to our morning routine from now on, please?
Of course. Sar switched his tail, gave Josiah a brief affectionate nuzzle on the cheek, and shuffled back to his spot by the wall.
Seventeen
Vigorre watched through Nirre’s eyes as the nondescript fishing vessel drifted toward the jagged rocks at the base of the headland. His breath quickened. Surely any normal captain would have long since turned his ship away from the hazard.
Can you get closer without raising their suspicions? Golden eagles were common along the Ramunnan coast, but the story of the young Keeper who’d treacherously sided with the wizards and been enslaved by one of their animal-shaped demons had spread through the city. The Purifiers might have mentioned it to their Marvannan allies.
Nirre didn’t reply in words; she seldom did. But she showed Vigorre the shadow of a fish moving beneath the surface of the water far below. The image plunged dizzyingly as she stooped. She crashed into the water, her talons closed around the fish, and she flapped upward, raking the fishing boat with her keen eyes as she climbed.
A dozen figures clustered near the bow, their mottled gray garments blending into the night. Vigorre glimpsed bows on backs and swords at sides. As Nirre banked and headed out to sea, Vigorre saw one of the men point to a spot where the cliff plunged straight into the water.
Vigorre pulled his awareness back to his own body, blinking to readjust to his suddenly much dimmer and fuzzier sight. “This is it,” he said grimly. “The Marvannan assassins are on that boat.”
No one in the little sailboat reacted audibly, but the atmosphere grew thick with tension. At the tiller, Borlen nodded. “Should I bring us in?”
The Wizards' War Page 24