Guild Mage: Apprentice

Liv and her friends ended up having to wait until nearly the end of winter before the Annie Gallant weighed anchor in Coral Bay once again. Between the frequent rain storms, when heavy gray clouds blocked the sunlight, and the mood of anxiety that had descended on the campus like a haze, it was not a pleasant time.

Genevieve Arundell’s tantrum during the testing had evidently robbed Archmagus Jurien of any joy in his achievement. The royal court mage had returned to Freeport that same evening, with no more fanfare than her carriage rolling out of the courtyard and down the road into town. A day later, Archmagus Loredan had announced that the guild was levying a penalty on Magia Arundell for her behavior: half of her income, from both eruptions and her position as court mage, would be levied into the guild coffers. The arrangements had already been made with the bankers’ guild, and the punishment led to a lively day of discussion in Liv’s class with Professor Every.

The trouble at the testing compounded with the news of the old king’s death, distracting many of the students - particularly the children of noble families - from their studies. Liv heard a great deal more talk about who would be leaving campus to attend the coronation, than about testing into higher classes, or even the second king tide of the year, which was still to come.

Sometimes, Liv felt like she and her small group of friends were the only first-years still focused on what they’d all come here to do: learn to use magic. “You’re not at all interested in going to the coronation?” Arjun asked her, on a day when water ran down the glass panes of the windows at High Hall like a cascade over a slab of granite in a mountain cascade. They were trying to power through the last few pages on the final, fair copy of the book assigned to them by Archmagus Loredan as punishment for their illicit trip north. A pot of tea, delivered by Thora half a bell before, rested on the table, within easy reach of the couches and chairs, and a fire burned in the hearth.

Liv glanced around the landing, to make certain that Edith wasn’t in earshot. Whatever goodwill her apple pie had won, it had vanished after Liv rejected Cade. Perhaps if he would have stayed at the school for Edith to pursue, things might have been different: but the girl seemed to think Liv had driven him off at swordpoint.

“I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to go,” Liv said. “Not that I would expect to even be invited. The princess and her father aren’t exactly friendly. And Duchess Julianne made an agreement not to go south, six years ago. There were exceptions built in for Matthew and I to come here, but I really don’t think I would be welcome.”

“Well that’s a load of bullocks,” Rose complaned, setting down her quill and taking a moment to shake out her wrist. “I’ve got to go - my father’s sending a carriage to get me. If none of you are going, I’ll have no one to spend time with but my brother.”

“My father’s going as one of Duke Falkenrath’s guards,” Tephania said. “But that doesn’t get me an invitation.” She sighed. “I bet the princess’ dress will be absolutely gorgeous.”

Liv swallowed a comment before it could escape her lips - something about things that looked sweet on the outside, but were rotten within. Julianne would have been proud of her for showing a bit of discretion, but it might have been nicer to tell her friends what Milisant was really like, and laugh about it. “Here, give me the quill,” she said to Rosamund. “I’ll take a turn. Your handwriting’s atrocious, anyway.”

As she bent over the book: at least they hadn’t had to pay for their own supplies, the school had supplied that: Liv checked how many pages were left. “Two entries left,” she said. “Both whales. We’re almost finished, at least.” She set to copying over the text they’d composed with Sidonie, before the journeyman had left, but was interrupted by the tromping of boots on the stairs. Liv put her hand on the pommel of her wand, but relaxed when she saw Wren come into view.

The huntress’ dark hair was plastered to her head, the purple streak she’d sported when she first arrived at Whitehill indistinguishable from the rest of her mane. Behind her, a man in a great cloak and hat, along with high leather boots, followed along, just as bedraggled.

“Captain Athearn!” Liv immediately set down the quill, and leaned over to fill two clean cups with tea. “We’ve been watching for you to make port here.”

“Here, let me take those wet things,” Tephania offered, standing up and hurrying over. Coram Athearn shrugged out of his cloak and hat, which Teph hung by the fire to dry.

“My apologies for keeping you waiting,” the old sailor said. “We’ve been out to Calder’s Landing and back. Your father’s people may travel by waystone, Miss Brodbeck, but they’re more than willing to purchase supplies shipped by sea.”

“Come over and get warm by the fire, both of you,” Liv said, bringing a cup first to the captain, and then to Wren. “In fact,” she offered to her bodyguard, “if you want to use the enchanted pipes in the bath chamber, I don’t think anyone here would mind. Miss Gage isn’t around to complain. I’m sorry I can’t offer the same to you, Captain, but I think that would be a step too far for propriety.”

“Somehow, you’ve always got the fanciest baths,” Wren observed, opening the door and heading into the sitting room to the left of the stairs.

“I’ll get warmed up at the Crab and Gull,” Athearn said. “I started making a point to take a room there each time we come to port, once I knew you preferred their food. I was a bit surprised your woman came to find me, I’ll admit. I hope you haven’t found any trouble here.”

“Perhaps a bit. One moment.” Liv ducked into the sitting room she shared with Edith and Sidonie, observing that Wren had left a trail of cold rainwater on her way to the bath chamber. She winced, but continued on into her bedchamber and retried Faramond Blackstone’s book, then carried it back out and set it on the table before Captain Athearn.

“There’s a group of mercenaries staying in a poorly fitted warehouse down near the docks,” Liv began. “Led by a man named Bill Skinner. They’re under contract to a merchant named Cartwright, to protect his goods and to get what they can during the king tides this year.”

Coram Athearn took a sip of tea, and sighed. “Warms you right up inside,” he commented. “I don’t suppose you have a splash of Varunan rum to go with it? No, that would be asking too much. That all sounds normal enough so far. What’s the other shoe, so to speak?”

“First, that when the mercenaries arrived, they snuck off the ship that brought them under cover of darkness,” Liv said. “Presumably to hide their numbers, or just how much armor and weaponry they brought. That was what first caught Wren’s attention. Secondly, during the last king tide, they pushed out past the college’s teams, right to the rift. It not only cost them a man and got them in trouble, it left a lot of money lying about. It was like they didn’t care how much of a catch, or how many pearls, they actually brought back - they only wanted to get to the reef while the tide was low enough. I think they’re looking for a way into the Vædic ruins that are buried under the coral.”

“This book,” Liv continued, turning it around so that Athearn could look at it, “is a survey of the bay from five centuries ago. But none of us are sailors, and the notation is archaic on top of everything. We were hoping you could make sense of this, and maybe tell us where to find a way in.”

Coram Athearn drained his cup of tea, then leaned over the book. “My eyes aren’t what they used to be,” he admitted. “Good for the horizon, but not so much the log books, any longer. Let’s see here. You see this circle with an anchor inside, here?” Everyone gathered around and leaned over the book. “That’s a safe anchorage. The crossed out anchor is a wreck, over here, and this triangle with a dot marks rocks or shoals. The numbers are depths, in feet. This diamond with the lines through it marks safe water. I’ve got a chart like this back on the Annie Gallant. Much more recent, you understand. The wreck’s been cleared since your book was made, and the coral’s expanded quite a bit. They must have dredged the lane into port at some point, too, because this map shows much more shallow water.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“Does it actually tell you anything useful, though?” Rose asked him.

“It makes the shape of the ruins much more clear,” Athearn said. “Look here. No coral grows like that naturally - no living thing does. It’s all straight edges and angles. Looks like a hall, or a house, or walls. Leave them to be overgrown in the first for a few decades, and they still stand out. Give me a quill and a sheet of parchment.”

Tephania leaned over to get fresh parchment, while Liv passed over her quill and the pot of ink. With quick, sure strokes Coram Athearn began to draw out the outline of a structure. “You see these?” he asked, jabbing with a finger. “These structures here are low, they provide a place for the oysters to latch onto. I doubt there’s anything anyone would want there. No, you’re after this.”

Liv peered down at the rough drawing. The series of angular shapes, like boxes stacked against each other, included what almost looked like a sort of entranceway, or hall.” “This aligns with the waystone,” Athearn explained. “I’d bet a gold coin that if you dug down under the sand, you’d find foundations for an old road that led from the waystone to the ruins, and attached right here. If you’re going to find an entrance, that’s where it’ll be. Of course, after a thousand years, there’s no way of knowing what’s left. You’ll probably have to chip coral away. I’d bring pick-axes, crowbars. Quite an operation.”

“Thank you,” Liv said, considering. “Do you think you could manage to have the Annie Gallant in port before the next king tide? I assume the archmagus has shared his predictions with the harbormaster.”

Captain Athearn leaned back in the seat he’d taken. “You’re thinking you’ll need my boys, then?” he asked her.

“I might,” Liv said. “And I’d like to be ready this time. I’m going to talk to Archmagus Jurian, as well.”

Athearn nodded. “I’ll be here for you, young miss. You may count on that. And I’ll have my boys ready for a scrap.”

☙

By the time Liv actually explained to Archmagus Jurian what they’d found, it was not the small, private meeting she’d originally envisioned. He’d stopped her almost immediately, and by the time the next bell had rung, Liv, Wren, Rosamund, Arjun and Tephania, along with Captain Athearn, had been gathered in the library of Blackstone Hall.

All other students had promptly been chased out to make room for them to talk their way through everything, with not only Jurian but also Archmagus Loredan, Professor Every, and even Professor Blackwood all in attendance. Liv could only imagine how many advanced classes had been dropped into the hands of overworked journeymen to get so many professors gathered in a single place at the same time.

“The problem is,” Professor Every said, once Liv had finished talking and marking up the slate at the front of the room, “they haven’t actually done anything illegal yet. A merchant can hire mercenaries to protect his goods or his warehouse. He can even send them to take what they can during the king tide. Even if they broke into the ruins, I’m not certain that would be illegal, either.” She turned to Professor Blackwood, of all people, when she said that. “As long as it’s not during an eruption, at least.”

“The Tidal Rift was the responsibility of House Blackstone,” the professor of beasts said. “When my great-uncle and great-aunt founded the guild, all rights and responsibilities of a noble house fell onto the shoulders of this organization.”

“Great-Uncle?” Tephania mouthed silence, and Liv could do nothing but shrug and shake her head.

“Blackwood was the name given to my father,” the professor explained, “an illegitimate child of Lamon Blackstone’s younger brother, Sayer. Very clever, isn’t it? Designed to hide the family’s shame and conceal the scandal. In any event,” he continued, “that means the rift itself is property of the guild. We could bring them to the sheriff on trespassing charges, at the very least. Theft, if they removed anything without permission.”

“And if they interfered during an eruption, then we could really bring the hammer down, so to speak,” Professor Every said. “Or if they didn’t surrender when the sheriff tried to make an arrest.”

“Do we really have to wait for them to do something first?” Wren broke in. “We know who they are, we know where they are. I could take a few people in tonight and have them all tied up before they know what’s happening.”

“Obediah Cartwright is a merchant and a guild member in good standing,” Archmagus Loredan said. “I’ve checked. If we act without clear legal authority, we’re going to end up in arbitration, which means the matter is placed in the hands of my nephew.”

Liv couldn’t help but wince at the thought of Benedict being involved. His eyes were as cold as the sand-sharks in the bay, and she didn’t trust he’d have any interest but his own in mind.

“If we can’t strike first, we set a trap,” Jurian proposed. “We know where they’re going, courtesy of these students.” He waved a hand at Liv and her friends. “We have the advantage of time to prepare, and of numbers. Between all the students at this school, we also have the advantage of magical flexibility - there’s what, two dozen words of power represented on campus at the moment?”

“Putting the students at risk would be irresponsible,” Professor Every argued.

“We put them at risk every tide and every eruption, Lia,” Jurian countered.

“Those are controlled circumstances,” Every said, refusing to back down. “We know what’s in the bay, and we teach them to fight it. We put older, more experienced students in charge of teams, and we have healers ready for when someone gets hurt. Most of these kids have never been asked to kill another person before, Jurian. They’re not ready for that.”

“Enough,” Archmagus Loredan said. “I called you all here so that you would be informed. Discussion on our course from here is, quite frankly, not something these students should be present for. We will meet this evening, after dinner, when Professors Annora and Norris can be in attendance, and we will determine a suitable course of action. Apprentice Brodbeck,” he said, turning away from the professors. “Miss Lowry, Miss Lane, Miss Wren, and Śrī Iyuz, you have our gratitude for your work to this point. You are excused.”

Liv shared a look with Wren. “I would feel better if I knew what was going to happen next,” she said.

“No doubt you would,” Loredan told her. “But this school, this town, and you students, are the responsibility of the professors gathered here. Go and get yourselves something to eat, and trust that we will handle things.”

The moment they’d left Blackstone Hall and gotten out into the courtyard, Wren erupted. “I’ve spent months watching these rusting idiots,” she complained. “I’m not just going to forget about it and trust someone else to protect me.”

“But they’re our professors,” Teph pointed out. “They’ve all been in what, dozens of eruptions, and come out the other side? There are two archmages in there, Wren. If anyone can take care of a few soldiers in a warehouse, it's them.”

“You know who else assumed that they had everything under control?” Liv asked. “The Eld. At The Hall of Ancestors. I’ve fought in an eruption,” she said. “Not even just once, but twice. I’ve seen how quickly things can get out of control when the wrong person is injured, or the group gets split up. We can’t assume that anyone else is going to protect us - we need to be ready to protect ourselves.”

“No argument here,” Rosamund said. “Honestly, I’d rather do what Wren suggests, and hit them first. But there’s no way I’m just going to wait and see what happens.”

Liv turned to Arjun, who hadn’t spoken yet.

“I feel like I’ve said this before,” he said. “But alright. If something’s wrong and you ignore it, things only get worse. I’d rather be ready, than not. But Liv, Teph and I aren’t like you and Rose. Neither of us are in anything higher than a basic combat course. If a man, a soldier, comes at me with a sword and a shield and armor, I don’t know what I’m going to do except run away. We’re not ready for that.”

“Then maybe it's time you used one of your words for something other than healing,” Liv suggested. “You’ve imprinted Cost, haven’t you? The word of bones?”

Arjun nodded, hesitantly.

“Well, I can think of plenty of nasty things to do with that,” Liv said. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” Teph asked.

“To buy a chicken,” Liv told her.