The Magician's Apprentice Page 6

  Dakon smiled. “Of course. After all the good work you’ve done, I can hardly begrudge you that.”

  “Could...?” Tessia began, then faltered at a stern look from her mother. When she didn’t continue, Dakon gestured that she should. She sighed. “Can a magician still study and practise healing?”

  “No, Tessia, it’s—” her mother began.

  “Of course,” Dakon replied. “Most magicians have personal interests, and pet projects. But,” he added, “your first priority at this point is to learn to control that power of yours. It is what we magicians call the price of magic. You must learn control because if you don’t, your magic will eventually kill you. And when it does it will destroy not only you, but a great deal of whatever surrounds you. With the strength of your power, it’s unlikely it would be just a room.”

  Tessia’s eyes went wide. Her parents exchanged a grim look. She swallowed and nodded. “Then I had better learn fast.”

  Dakon smiled. “I’m sure you will. But I’m afraid you won’t have many chances to indulge interests or pet projects fully until you are an actual magician, and that usually takes years of study.”

  Her shoulders dropped a little, but her lips compressed into a smile of determination. “I’m good at study,” she told him. “And fast. Aren’t I, Father?”

  Veran laughed. “You do well enough, though I think if you saw how much study an entrant to the healing university had to do, you wouldn’t be so sure of yourself. I don’t know if a magician’s apprentice faces as much hard work?” He looked at Dakon questioningly.

  “I doubt it,” Dakon admitted. “We prefer a steady pace. It’s vital to ensure every lesson is well understood before proceeding to the next. Hasty learning can lead to mistakes, and magical mistakes tend to be more spectacular than healing mistakes. My father used to use that reasoning to explain why apprentices of magic drink far less than the students of healing.”

  Veran grinned. “‘Healers wake up with a sore head,” he used to say; ‘magicians wake up with a sore head, our toes burned black and the roof on the floor.’”

  “Oh dear,” Lasia said, rolling her eyes. “Here they go. Just like their fathers.”

  Tessia was looking from Dakon to her father and back with a bemused expression. Dakon sobered. The girl was probably still stunned by the news she was going to be a magician. She needed time to think about her future, and would probably appreciate some time with her family before stepping into her new life.

  “So, when do you want to take my daughter off my hands?” Veran asked, his thoughts obviously following the same track.

  “Tomorrow?” Dakon suggested. Veran looked at Lasia, who nodded.

  “Any particular time?”

  “No. Whenever it suits you all.” Dakon paused. “Though it would be a fine excuse for a celebratory meal, I think. Why don’t you bring her over a few hours before dusk? Tessia can settle into her new home, then you can all join Jayan and me for a meal.”

  Lasia’s eyes brightened and she looked eagerly at Veran. The healer nodded. “We would be honoured.”

  Dakon rose. “I’ll leave you to make your arrangements, then. I must let the servants know there’ll be a new pupil in the Residence tomorrow, and Cannia will probably want plenty of notice to plan the meal.” As the others stood up, he smiled. “It’s an unexpected turn of events, but a pleasant one for all, I hope. Don’t worry about Tessia’s gaining control of her powers. It’s a part of the training that we all begin with, whether our powers develop naturally or with help.” He looked at Tessia. “You’ll have mastered it in no time.”

  Sitting in the window casement, Tessia watched her mother carefully folding clothes and arranging them with numerous other things in a trunk. The room smelled of the trunk’s fragrant, resinous wood, which was not unpleasant but still alien, like a stranger come into her private space.

  Her mother straightened and regarded her handiwork, then huffed and waved her hands as a thought struck her. Without an explanation, she bustled out of the room.

  Tessia looked outside. The world glistened as afternoon sunshine set droplets from the recent rain shower alight. Below, the vegetable patch looked near empty, but if she looked closely she could see that the beds containing winter crops had a thin green pelt of new shoots, the plants within them happy to get a regular soaking.

  Hearing footsteps coming up the stairs, Tessia looked towards the doorway. Her father smiled and came into the room. She noted the wrinkles round his eyes and mouth, and the slight stoop of his shoulders. It wasn’t the first time she’d noticed them, and as always they roused a wistful sadness. He isn’t growing any younger. But neither is anyone, really.

  His gaze moved to the trunk. “Are you ready, do you think?” She shrugged. “Only Mother could tell you that.”

  He smiled crookedly. “Indeed. But are you ready? Have you got used to the idea of becoming a magician yet?”

  Sighing, she moved from the casement to the bed.

  “Yes. No. I don’t know. Must I move into the Residence?” He looked at her silently for a moment before answering. “Yes. If your magic is as dangerous as Lord Dakon says, he probably wants to put you somewhere others aren’t at risk. It will be easier for him to protect everyone if you’re close by.”

  “But I won’t be coming back after I’ve learned to control it,” she said.

  He met her eyes and shook his head. “I doubt it. You have much to learn.”

  “I could still live here and visit the Residence for lessons.”

  “You’re a magician’s apprentice now,” another voice replied. Tessia looked up at her mother, who stood in the doorway of the room. “It’s appropriate to your status that you move into the Residence.”

  Tessia looked away. She didn’t care about status, but there was no point arguing. Other people did, so it had to be taken into account. Instead she turned to her father again. “You will send for me if you need me, won’t you? You won’t hesitate because you’re worried about interrupting lessons or something?”

  “Of course not,” he assured her. Then he smiled. “I promise to send for you when I need you so long as you trust me to judge whether I truly need you – and you promise not to skip lessons.”

  “Father!” Tessia protested. “I am not a child any more.”

  “No, but I know you’ll find perfectly adult reasons to place higher priority on helping people than on learning magic.” His expression became serious. “There are other ways to help the village, Tessia, and magic is one of them. It is more important because it is rare, and because we live so close to the border. You may one day save more locals by defending us than by healing us.”

  “I doubt it,” she scoffed. “The Sachakans wouldn’t bother conquering Kyralia again.”

  “Not if there are powerful magicians protecting our borders.”

  Tessia grimaced. “I don’t think any amount of training would make me a fighter, Father. It’s not what I’m good at.”

  I’m good at healing, she wanted to say. But though she would have expected to be dismayed at discovering she must become a magician, she wasn’t. Maybe because it doesn’t mean all my hopes of becoming a healer must end, she thought. They’ve been delayed, that’s all. All I have to do is learn everything I need to know to become a magician, then I’ll be free to become a healer. Much freer than I was before, because magicians can do whatever they like. Well, so long as they’re not breaking laws.

  Perhaps learning magic would show her other ways to help people. Perhaps magic could be used to heal. The possibilities were exciting.

  “It’s not up to you to decide what you’re good at now,” her mother said sternly. “Lord Dakon could hardly have planned to end up with another apprentice. You are not to waste his time or resources, you hear?”

  Tessia smiled. “Yes, Mother.”

  Her father cleared his throat. “Time to carry this downstairs yet?”

  “No.” Her mother’s frown disappeared. “There’s this to go i
n.” In her hand was a flat box, the size of a thin book. Instead of putting it in the trunk, she handed it to Tessia.

  As Tessia took it she felt a shock of recognition. “Your necklace? Why? For safe-keeping?”

  “For you to wear,” her mother corrected her. “I was going to wait until you showed some interest in attracting a husband before giving it to you... but it looks as if that will have to wait. You’ll be needing something to wear now that you’ll be associating with rich and influential people.”

  “But...it’s yours. Father gave it to you.” She glanced at her father and saw that he had an approving, almost smug, look on his face.

  “And now it’s yours,” her mother said firmly. “Besides, it looks ridiculous on me now. It suits a younger face.” She took the box from Tessia and placed it in the trunk, then shut the lid.

  Tessia opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again. She knew she would not win this argument. Perhaps another time, when her mother was in a different mood, she would persuade her to take back the necklace. It was ridiculous, this idea that she would need it to impress rich and influential people. Nobody in the village could be considered that way except one person: Lord Dakon.

  Then an uncomfortable feeling came over her.

  Surely Mother isn’t . . . she couldn’t be . . . there’s no way she would... the age difference is...

  But she knew her mother all too well.

  It’s too obvious to deny. She closed her eyes and cursed silently. Mother is hoping I’ll marry Lord Dakon.

  CHAPTER 6

  Well, don’t you look fancy.”

  Jayan turned to find Malia standing in the doorway of his room. She looked down at his clothes and her eyebrows rose. “Is that the latest fashion in Imardin, then?”

  He chuckled and smoothed his clothing. The robe was nearly long enough to touch the floor and all but covered the matching trousers he wore underneath. Both were dark green and the fine material they were made from had a slight shine to it.

  “It’s what’s been worn there for the last twenty years,” he told Malia. “Hardly the latest fashion.”

  “By both men and women?”

  “No, just men.”

  Her eyebrows managed to rise even higher. “I’d love to see what the women wear, then.”

  “You wouldn’t believe what your eyes were seeing – and don’t ask me to describe it. I’d have to learn a whole new vocabulary first.”

  Her brows finally came back to a normal level as she grinned. “If I hadn’t seen Lord Dakon wearing much the same thing, I’d have wondered about you, Apprentice Jayan. Don’t go walking out in the village like that or people will be talking about you from here to the mountains. As for your guests... they hid their surprise very well when they saw Lord Dakon.” She paused. “They’re all in the dining room, by the way.”

  In other words, “You’re late’, he thought. “I was about to join them,” he said. “Until I was delayed by a nosy servant, that is.”

  She rolled her eyes to the ceiling, then took the hint and strode away.

  Looking down at himself, he adjusted the sash, tugged a few creases out of the robe, then followed her down the corridor. He eyed the doorway at the end. Earlier that morning the servants had opened up the unused room beyond, cleaned it and moved furniture in and out. Later in the day Jayan had heard voices through his own closed door. He hadn’t gone out to greet Tessia and her family. They had more immediate things to be concerned about than meeting Dakon’s apprentice. Dakon’s other apprentice.

  The truth was, Jayan hadn’t wanted to go out and meet them. He was not sure why. I don’t dislike Tessia or her family personally. Nor do I particularly like them, or want to gain their favour. It was more important, he had decided, that he spend his time studying than being sociable. The sooner he became a magician the more time Tessia would have from Dakon, after all.

  It wasn’t as if she was from some important and powerful family that he might want to establish and maintain friendly relations with. She wasn’t a land servant or crafter’s daughter, thankfully, but she wasn’t a woman of influence or connections either. Becoming a magician would elevate her, but it wouldn’t make her the equal of other magicians.

  Which is why this is unfair on Dakon. He won’t be gaining any of the good connections or favours owed from training her as he did by taking on my training... except, perhaps, respect for what might be seen as an admirable act of charity. If not that, then sympathy for having to obey the law on naturals.

  Would people be as sympathetic towards Tessia? With no influential or wealthy family behind her, she would hardly attract much favour among the powerful men and women of Kyralia. It was unlikely that the king or anyone else would give her any important position or task to perform. Without such a wage or work she’d never make much of an income. All this would not make her a desirable wife, so she wasn’t going to attract a husband of influence or wealth either.

  She might, with hard work and time, gain a few allies and friends, and slowly prove herself worthy of work with a decent income. And someone might marry her hoping her offspring would prove magically strong.

  But neither would ever happen if she stayed in isolated Mandryn.

  Another option came to Jayan’s mind, then. There were cases in history of apprentices who did not become higher magicians. She could choose to remain in service to Dakon, giving him magical strength, and in return he would give her a place to live and possibly a small sum to live on after he died.

  Jayan felt an unexpected sympathy for her then. She probably had no idea where her natural powers were going to lead her. She could become trapped in a social limbo, caught between the advantages of magic and its inescapable limitations.

  At the bottom of the stairs it was a short walk down a corridor to the dining room. Entering, Jayan was amused at the relief he felt on seeing Lord Dakon wearing the same style of dress as he. Dakon’s robe was black with fine stitchwork. The magician was standing with his guests. He looked up and acknowledged Jayan with a nod as he finished what he was saying to Veran’s family.

  Healer Veran wore a simple tunic and trousers typical of the local men, but made of a finer cloth. His wife – what is her name? – wore a plain dark blue tunic dress that did nothing to make her look womanly. Tessia’s dress was almost as ugly, its severity tempered only because it was a more appealing dark red. The young woman’s necklace, though simple, also relieved some of the unflattering impact of her garb.

  Dakon now gestured to Jayan. “This is my apprentice, Jayan of Drayn. Jayan, you know Healer Veran. This is his wife, Lasia. And this is Tessia, your new fellow apprentice.”

  Jayan made a short, polite bow. “Welcome, Apprentice Tessia,” he said. “Healer Veran, Lasia. A pleasure to have your company tonight.”

  Dakon smiled approvingly then directed the guests to their seats. Lasia and Tessia started in surprise as a gong positioned on a side table rang.

  Soon the room filled with servants carrying plates and bowls, jugs and glasses. A generous spread of food covered the table. Dakon picked up a pair of carving knives and began to slice the meat for his guests.

  The kitchen servants had done a fine job, Jayan noted. As Dakon sliced through a glistening roll of roasted, golden skin he revealed many-layered circles of different meats and vegetables. Once he had finished he urged his guests to help themselves, then turned to a larger haunch of enka. Ribbons of dark marin fruit syrup oozed from within the rare meat. Next, he expertly chopped up cakes made of different root vegetables, layered to form decorative patterns when cut, and quartered juicy yellow and green cabbas stuffed with a frothy herbed mix of bread and eggs.

  This is such a strange tradition, Jayan mused. I wonder if it was introduced by the Sachakans, or harks back to an earlier age in Kyralia. It’s supposed to be a demonstration of humility from the host, but I suspect it’s really meant to show off his prowess with knives.

  Dakon certainly gave the impression of being well prac
tised, which was surprising considering how rarely he gave formal dinners. Watching his master closely, Jayan decided the man actually enjoyed the task. He wondered if this love of chopping things up would surface should Dakon ever find himself in a fight.

  At last Dakon had finished. Conversation as they ate was sporadic and concerned the quality of local and imported produce, the weather and other general topics. Jayan glanced at Tessia now and then. She was not pretty, he decided, but neither was she ugly. Young women in the ley were likely to be either slim and hard-muscled from work, or buxom and generous like some of the Residence’s house servants or crafters’ wives. Tessia was neither skinny or curvaceous, as far as he could tell.

  She did not speak, just listened and watched Lord Dakon with obvious restrained curiosity. The magician might have noticed this, as he began to ask her direct questions.

  “If there is anything any of you wish to know,” he said as the meal ended, “be it about magic or magicians or apprenticeship, please ask. I will do my best to answer.”

  The healer and his family exchanged glances. Veran opened his mouth to speak, then closed it and looked at Tessia.

  “I think my daughter’s questions should come first, since she is the one who is to learn magic.”

  Tessia smiled faintly at her father, then frowned as she gathered her thoughts.

  “Where does the body generate magic?” she asked. “Is it stored in the brain or the heart?”

  Dakon chuckled. “Ah, that is a question asked often and never properly answered. I believe the source is the brain, but there are some who are convinced it comes from the heart. Since the brain generates thoughts, and the heart emotions, it makes more sense that magic comes from the brain. Magic responds to our mental command and control. We have little control of what we feel – though we can control how we act in response to our feelings. If magic responded to emotion we’d have no control of it at all.”