Guild Mage: Apprentice-Chapter 152: Put to the Question

In Liv’s opinion, nothing productive happened after Archmagus Loredan’s comment. A number of mages stood up to speak, but the professors and Genevieve mostly just watched and listened, which told her that nothing was going to be decided that evening.

A culling mage who introduced himself as Alisander spoke in favor of eliminating the current charter so that the rule about all guild members being prevented from inheriting could be renegotiated. “When I swore my oath four years ago,” he explained, “my older brother was just married to a young wife, and I expected to be an uncle soon. An outbreak of Blackwater Fever on the Isle of Wyrms devastated my family. Now, my father has no heirs but distant cousins. I would go back in a heartbeat if I could.”

On the other hand, Eleanor, an older court mage, went back to attacking the idea that the king could dissolve a charter at all. “If all law exists merely at the sufferance of any given monarch's whims, then in truth there is no law at all!” she proclaimed. “In such a world, we all dance at the whims of nothing more or less than a tyrant - slaves in everything but name, as surely as if the old gods had never fallen.”

As the long hours of the night stretched on in debate, argument, applause and jeers, Liv couldn’t help but wince at the unyielding, uncomfortable wood benches that she and the other students were consigned to.

“Why doesn’t Archmagus Loredan get things back under control?” Rose grumbled, shifting about at Liv’s side.

“He’s letting them all have their moment,” Liv explained. “I’ve seen Henry and Julianne do this. The important people had their say at the beginning, and tried to set the tone. They’ll come back in at the end, as well. But this way everyone feels like they’ve been heard, even if their words didn’t actually do very much.”

“You didn’t expect this to be wrapped up in a single evening, did you?” Sidonie asked, flashing a grin at Rose.

“I’ve got an idea,” the dark-haired young woman said. “How about Arundell and Loredan just fight over it. Have a duel, and whoever wins is the guild master. At least that would be fun to watch.”

“The archmagus would stomp her into the ground though, wouldn’t he?” Teph asked. Liv looked around the room, and noticed they weren’t the only group in the audience who had become more engaged in their own private conversation than in listening to the latest speaker at the front of the hall.

“I wouldn’t be so confident,” Liv said, after a moment. She thought back to the dream of the past Jurian had shared with her, and to the test months before when Genevieve had attacked her former lover. “She’s anything but weak, even if she doesn’t show it often. She was a culling mage long before she was a court mage. She survived Godsgrave.” And in Liv’s opinion, if anyone was likely to fight Genevieve, it wouldn’t be Archmagus Loredan - It would be Jurian.

Archmagus Loredan must have noticed the same thing Liv had, for after the current speaker – the court mage of the Falkenraths, actually – finished saying his piece, Caspian rose from his seat at the high table and struck the butt of his staff against the floor.

“It has been a long evening,” the archmagus said. “Let us take the next day to consider what has been said here tonight, and to reflect. Our professors and journeymen have classes to teach tomorrow, for we cannot neglect our new students. We will convene again here, in the great hall, at the eighth bell of the evening. Until then, I encourage you all to try to get some rest.” As the room stirred into motion, Liv caught sight of the professors and Genevieve Arundell slipping out through a back stairwell, to avoid the press of the masses.

Rosamund was up first, leaning back with her arms stretched to crack her spine. The sight of her friend’s torso drawn back like a bow, or a cat just roused from sleep distracted Liv for a moment, so that she didn’t notice the approach of Arianell Seton until the girl was at her elbow.

“Journeyman Brodbeck,” Seton said, “Guild Mistress Arundell would like to speak with you. If you’ll follow me, please.”

Liv narrowed her eyes at the girl. Arianell’s berry-blond hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and she was dressed in a formal and severe gown of dark fabric trimmed in silver thread and buttons. Her necklace, earrings, the bracelets on her wrists, every piece was, Liv knew, a weapon.

“I thought the entire point of this whole conclave was to decide whether or not she was actually guild mistress?” Rosamund said, taking a step forward. Liv could feel the rest of her friends shifting to fill in at her back and to either side of her, as if Arianell was a mana beast that had just emerged from a shoal.

The girl shrugged. “King Benedict has made his decree. The guild dithering about it does not change that one simple fact. Now, please come with me, journeyman.” Rose opened her mouth, and Arianell interrupted before she could speak: “Alone.”

“Fine,” Liv said. She turned to look over her friends. “I’ll be back at High Hall in a bell or so, I’m sure.” None of them looked happy about it, but Liv headed off after Arianell.

The crowd of mages did not leave the great hall all at once, or in any kind of good order. Knots of mages in conversation stymied the flow of those headed for the doors like great boulders in a river, breaking the water around them into swirling eddies. When Liv and Arianell finally made it to the doors, Wren, who had been waiting outside the hall, slipped into their wake and followed them up the grand staircase to the second floor.

“I said alone,” Arianell snapped, once she noticed the huntress accompanying them.

“Wren is my bodyguard,” Liv said. “Assigned by Duchess Julianne to keep me safe. I can hardly countermand the order of a duchess, can I?”

Arianell Seton made a face like she’d just bit into a lemon, but said no more. Instead, she led them down the hallway past the rooms of the professors, including doors that Liv recognized as belonging to Archmagus Loredan and Jurian. At the end of the hall, she stopped at a door Liv had never seen open before, and knocked.

The door opened, revealing a dapper man with a neatly trimmed mustache, and a sort of upside down triangle of hair on his chin that did not qualify, in Liv’s mind, as an actual beard. He wore a dark doublet, a rapier at his belt, and a chain of office draped over his shoulders. Liv looked for a guild ring on his fingers, but did not see one.

“I’ve brought Journeyman Brodbeck,” Arianell said. Liv glanced over to the girl, and was certain that she was resisting the urge to fidget nervously.

“Thank you, Lady Seton,” the man said in a voice that was smooth and rich as honey. “Miss Brodbeck, I’m afraid your bodyguard will have to remain outside.”

“And who are you?” Liv asked. She had to look up to meet his eyes, and it made her even more irritated than she already was.

“Galleron Erskine, Baron of the Strand,” the man in the doorway introduced himself, with a tight smile. “I am also King Benedict’s Minister of Intelligence. You may be assured that, while young Lady Arianell may not have the authority to dismiss your bodyguard, I do.”

“Or I could just leave,” Liv said.

“I would not recommend it,” Baron Erskine said. “Your guild mistress is about to give you a chance that it would be foolish to throw away.”

Liv turned and looked to Wren. “I’ll meet you back in my rooms,” she said. “I’m certain I won’t be long. Oh – and let Archmagus Jurian know that I’ll see him in the morning for classes.”

Wren stared back at Liv for a long moment. “I’ll tell him right away.”

“Thank you.” Liv nodded, and then turned back to the door. “Alright, Baron Erskine,” she said. “I’ll see what Court Mage Arundell has to say to me.”

Finally, the man opened the door all of the way and stepped aside, indicating with one arm for Liv to enter the chamber. It was an office, much the same as the ones Liv had visited her professors in during her time at Coral Bay. A great wooden desk was the most prominent piece of furniture in the chamber, and Genevieve Arundell sat behind it in a comfortable chair. There was a door on the back wall which Liv presumed led into a bed chamber, and a variety of chairs and cushioned benches had been pulled into place to either side of the desk, all facing the doorway.

“Thank you, Arianell,” Genevieve said. “You may be seated.”

Liv’s fellow student made her way over to an empty chair, next to Anson Fane and Merek Sherard, while Baron Erskine shifted, the motion of his body catching Liv’s eye. She glanced behind her to see that he had moved to stand directly in front of the door, blocking her escape. There was no chair for Liv, only empty space before the desk where she was forced to stand.

“I see they put aside a room for you,” Liv said, taking two steps forward. “Most of the court mages had to take rooms at an inn.”

A man behind Genevieve and to her right spoke up. “Not even Caspian Loredan would dare to insult someone appointed by the crown.” Liv glanced him over: he had the look of a court mage, which she’d learned to recognize over the days of shepherding arrivals. His clothes were too clean, too fancy, to be a culling mage. And he wasn’t wearing nearly enough weapons or enchanted items. This was not the sort of man who was ready to fight at a moment’s notice.

She looked away from him, and back to Genevieve Arundell. “What do you want?”

“Straight to the point, I see,” the older woman said. “I do hope that Jurian hasn’t rubbed off on you too much, Brodbeck. You showed great potential when you defeated Princess Milisant.”

“Why am I here?” Liv pressed on. “It’s late, and some of us have to teach classes in the morning. I’d like to get back to my rooms and rest.”

“I’ve heard the official account of how Archmagus Jurian turned aside an assault on the tidal rift,” Arundell began. “Both the king and I find the entire affair a matter of some concern. We can’t allow an assault on the kingdom to go without a response. I’m interviewing some of the students who were present that day to try and get a better idea of what happened.”

Liv kept her face as still as she could, and tried not to alter her breathing – though it was difficult not to simply draw her wand and fight her way to the door. She had her comb, she kept reminding herself. It was pinning her hair up, and it would do its job.

“I helped develop the new shielding enchantments,” Liv began. “In fact, Professor Norris used a stone-bat casque I brought from Whitehill as the focus to anchor the magic. We were planning to test it after the evening meal, but then a column of light rose up into the sky from the shore, and they activated the barrier then gathered everyone in the great hall. They split us up to different places.” For a moment, she couldn’t remember where she had been supposed to go, and Liv felt a swell of panic before it came back to her. “Archmagus Jurian left, and Professor Norris ordered me up to the battlements to keep watch.”

“That all lines up with what I’ve learned,” Genevieve said, and Liv began to relax in spite of herself. “Save for this: you never made it up to the battlements. Instead, you left the barrier that protected the school and followed Jurian down to the beach.”

Liv’s heart and pulse beat so loudly in her ears that for a moment she could hear nothing else: not the sound of Anson Fane’s chair creaking when he leaned forward, though she knew from experience that all the old wooden chairs in these offices creaked, nor the ticking of the horologe on one wall of the office.

“Well?” Genevieve Arundell spoke, and it cut through Liv’s momentary paralysis.

“That didn’t sound like a question,” Liv said.

“You don’t deny it, then,” Baron Erskine said, his voice coming from behind Liv. She resisted the urge to turn around. Instead, her eyes flicked to where Merek Sherard lounged in his chair, a smile on his lips. The boy’s rusting birds were everywhere, weren’t they? How much had the gulls told him?

“Is there a point to all this?” Liv asked. “It is the duty of every mage to respond in the event of an eruption.”

“Archmagus Jurian’s report – yes, I’ve read it – indicates, however, that this was not a circumstance of an eruption, nor even a king tide,” Genenieve pressed.

“We didn’t know what it was, at first,” Liv said. “Just that the school and the town were in danger.”

“I suppose that’s true,” the older woman said. “And normally, I wouldn’t care about an apprentice running off to fight like that. I might even have a few words of praise, if she survived, even if she was a bit reckless. But there is something that happened that day that I – and the crown – care very much about. Tell me, Journeyman Brodbeck. What do you know about lightning falling from the sky to strike the reef?”

This was everything that Jurian had been trying to avoid by sending Liv to Lendh ka Dakruim, and now she’d walked right back into a trap. Silently, she cursed her own stupidity for using the royal word of power where anyone at all could see her.

“Let me make this easier for you,” Genevieve said. She reached down into the pocket she wore at her belt, and withdrew an orb of crystal, perfectly round and smooth, save that it was etched with Vædic sigils that caught the light cast by the oil lamps mounted on the walls of the office.

“This,” the court mage explained, “is something I purchased from House Crosbie oh, ten or fifteen years ago. They’re always desperate for money, that family, because they can’t grow their own food. You know the daughter, I believe.”

“Triss is my sister-in-law,” Liv admitted. It was a question she could answer that didn’t set her feet any closer to the edge of the pit yawning before her.

“Yes, I recall.” Genevieve smiled, but there was nothing kind or gentle in the expression. “A very specific enchantment. Watch.” She cupped the orb in both hands. “I am secretly the long lost daughter of a king,” she said, and the orb seemed to fill with a cloud of ink. “Ah. Perhaps not. Every young girl dreams of being a princess, though. Now watch.”

Arundell held the globe up high so that everyone could see it. “If Julianne Summerset has taught you Luc, I have orders to see you both executed for treason.” The orb lit up like an oil lamp, shining with a clear white glow.

“You see? It can tell the truth from a lie,” Genevieve said. “It only works on the person holding it, but – that’s usually enough. Merek, come over here and take the orb.”

Merek Sherard rose from his chair, walked over to the desk, and took the crystal from Genevieve’s hands.

“Tell me again,” Genevieve instructed, “what you know about the attack on Coral Bay.”

“When I got back from the coronation,” Sherard began, “there were all sorts of rumors about what had happened. How Archmagus Jurian fought off a horde of monsters down on the beach, and all that. So I talked to the gulls, to find out what had happened. They said a girl had fought a monster out on the reef, and in the middle of it all lightning struck the monsters.” Throughout the entire time Sherard spoke, the globe in his hands remained lit, like a burning candle.

“Thank you,” Genevieve Arundell said. “Now, pass the crystal to Journeyman Brodbeck.”

Merek Sherard rounded on Liv, crossed the room in three quick strides, and held the crystal orb out before her. Liv kept her eyes on the woman behind the desk, and did not take the enchanted object.

“Take it,” Baron Erskine’s voice came from just behind Liv. He must have moved away from the door; she could practically feel the man’s breath on her neck. She wondered if he had a dagger at her back.

After a moment’s further hesitation, Liv reached out and grabbed the orb from Merek, then held it up in her left hand in front of her chest. Still with that rusting smug grin on his face, the Sherard boy returned to his seat.

“If you check what words I’ve imprinted,” she said, “you’ll only see Aluth and Cel.” The globe in her hand flickered with light.

“We’ll get there,” Genevieve said. “But we’re going to do this in order. What did you do when you went down to the beach that day, Journeyman?”

Liv swallowed. Perhaps she could talk her way out of this. “I saw Jurian use his archmage spell,” she said. “He put a lot of Ractia’s people to sleep right away, and I think if I’d been any closer it would have got me too. Then he pulled their nightmares out and set them loose.” The orb continued to glow.

“He can put them to sleep too, can he?” Arundell mused. “Clever of him to hide that. And then what did you do, Brodbeck? You didn’t go to sleep.”

“I sent a few soldiers of ice down to fight,” Liv said.

“And then you went out to the reef.”

Liv hesitated.

“Yes, or no, journeyman,” Genevieve pressed. “Did you go out to the reef?”

Behind her, the door to the office slammed open, and Liv jumped, spinning around. Both Archmages stormed into the room, followed by Wren. “What is the meaning of this?” Caspian Loredan demanded. “Who gave you permission to interrogate my students?” At his side, Jurian clutched his staff, and Liv could positively feel violence in the air, waiting to be unleashed.

“I am here under the authority of the king,” Genevieve began, but Loredan interrupted her.

“And I am still chancellor of this college,” the archmage said. “So long as that is the case, I will not have my students dragged off into back rooms to be badgered by Benedict’s spymaster. Yes, I see you there, Erskine.”

Genevieve shrugged. “Only those with something to hide need fear the truth, Caspian. You don’t have anything to hide, do you?”

Liv could almost hear the archmage grinding his teeth, and Jurian remained a silent, boiling presence at the old man’s side.

“All students, back to your rooms,” Caspian Loredan said. For a moment, no one moved. “Now!”

Liv thrust the crystal orb into Jurian’s hands and fled the room, Wren at her side.