Guild Mage: Apprentice

30. An Investment

Liv could see how it was all going to go.

Mayor Cooper would be just how he was all those months ago, when he’d tried to get her in trouble for using her magic the first time. He’d call for the sheriff again, only now, instead of saving a little girl, Liv had imprisoned his daughter in ice. He would say she was dangerous, and that this proved it. Instead of spending the night in her room at Castle Whitehill, if Alban and Mirabel Cooper had their way, she’d be in a cell at the dungeon in the Lower Banks.

There was a part of her that wanted to curl in on herself and cry; to ask for her mother, and to wait for Master Jurian to come and save her again. Only Liv wasn’t certain that the mages’ guild would do that a second time.

But there was another part of her that was just angry.

"You want to know what’s going on?" Liv cried, pointing at the rounded walls of ice, which were already beginning to sweat water under the sunlight. "She took me out here, where no one could see, and slapped me in the face." She put two fingers to her lips, and then held them up where everyone could see the blood. "She’s horrible. She says horrible things, she spills wine on me, or ink. I’ve never done anything to her!"

"I would say that using magic to assault someone quite qualifies as ’anything," Mayor Cooper said, his face red. "The crime is the same, whether you use a club or a spell."

Griselda, in the meantime, used the opportunity to scramble away from Liv and then run over to her father. She threw her arms around him. From inside the great bowl of ice, Mirabel’s voice could be dimly heard, calling out for help.

"I didn’t hurt anyone!" Liv protested. "She hit me."

"We shall see what Sheriff Porter has to say about that," the mayor said. "Now release my daughter."

"She will do no such thing," Master Reimis broke in. At his words, Mayor Cooper turned away from Liv and stared at the Elden merchant with an open mouth. "Keep her right where she is, Liv, until this is settled."

After a moment’s hesitation, Liv nodded. She wasn’t certain whether she could take down the ice if she wanted to; she’d always just left her chutes, walls and bowls to melt on their own.

"I demand my daughter be freed this instant," the mayor snarled.

"I hardly think you are in any position to make demands," Airis Ka Reimis said. Liv couldn’t believe how calm and even his voice was; she was still shaking in a combination of fear and rage. "I came here as a guest, escorting this young lady, and she has been assaulted on your property, by your daughter. The question you should be asking, Mayor Cooper, is what you can do to apologize for this insult, before it brings an immediate end to our negotiations."

Griselda’s father broke in at that. "You cannot seriously be considering breaking off this meeting because a kitchen girl doesn’t know her place!"

"We will not only walk away this instant," Reimis threatened, "but I shall go directly to your sheriff, if there is not an immediate apology made, along with an assurance, from both of you gentlemen, that neither of your daughters will pursue this matter any further."

Mayor Cooper drew himself up. "I apologize that our business was interrupted by this unpleasantness," he said. "It was quite unseemely."

"Not to me," the Elden merchant said. "To her." He thrust his finger in Liv’s direction, and she once again felt the burden of being the center of the entire company’s attention.

Cooper’s eyes narrowed, and Liv imagined that he was weighing the money he could make from whatever agreement he wanted against the blow to his pride. "Very well," he said. "I apologize for my daughter’s actions, Miss Brodbeck. You may be certain, Master Reimis, that I shall discipline her appropriately. Let us go inside and return to our negotiations."

"I think not," Reimis said. "I have quite thoroughly seen the character of you upstanding guildsmen, and I have not the slightest desire to do business with you - at any point, whether now, or in the future."

"You’d back the aristocracy, instead?" Griselda’s father complained.

"Whatever power-struggle you are planning in this kingdom, I would be a fool to take a side in it," Airis Ka Reimis answered. "But the Summersets have held the south end of the high passes for centuries, and I have no reason to make an enemy of them when doing so would cut Al’Fenthia off to land travel. I’ve yet to hear any offer that is worth the trouble you bring, nor do I judge, after today, that I could trust a single one of you snakes to stay true to your words. If coin is all you care about, I will place my faith in Baron Henry and Lady Julianne. Come along, Liv. We are leaving. Thank you, Mayor Cooper, for the meal."

Liv hurried across the garden. She wanted nothing more than to be back in the carriage - no, she wanted to be at Castle Whitehill, so she could run straight to the kitchens and fall into her mother’s arms.

"Wait!" Alban Cooper shouted. "You can’t leave my daughter imprisoned like this."

"It will melt in the sun," Master Reimis said, taking Liv by the arm. "But if you insist, mayor, I shall do you this favor. Vradim Cerent Bregium Ai’Celis," the Eld intoned, sweeping his other arm out as if to encompass the garden and everything in it.

"He recognized you, then," Mama said.

"As soon as he saw me and heard my name," she confirmed. "I guess he knew her, before she was killed. He said I look just like her."

Her mother squeezed her tight. "I thought it would take longer," she said. "Your father- I promised you that I’d tell you his name. Maybe now is the time."

"I want to know," Liv said. "I’m not going to leave, Mama. Not for a long time yet. But if other people are going to recognize me, don’t you think I should know, too?"

"His hair is just like yours," her mother said, in a soft voice. "White as fresh snow. Soft. He was so sad, dove, that it broke my heart. I know it must seem silly, but I just wanted to make him feel better." Margaret Brodbeck took a deep breath. "His name is Valtteri Ka Auris. I don’t know much about the great doings of Eldish houses, but I know he’s the son of their baron, or whatever they call it. His sister was the older one, the heir, until she was gone."

"Thank you," Liv said. "For telling me."

Mama turned and pressed her lips to Liv’s forehead. "I just want you to be safe and happy, my love," she said. "You don’t need to be running off to the north and fighting monsters."

"I promised Master Reimis that I would go to Al’Fenthia," Liv told her. "After I was done at the college. But that’s a long time away. In return, he said he won’t tell anyone I exist."

"Let’s not borrow trouble that hasn’t arrived yet, then," her mother said. "Alright. I need to make sure Gretta isn’t burning the kitchen down. You keep that cloth on your lip."

"I will, Mama," Liv promised.

The moment the door had closed, however, she got up and went over to her desk, where she’d set down the book Master Jurian had bought her. Liv flipped it open to the very first page, then uncorked one of her bottles of ink and dipped a quill.

Livara Tär Valtteri Kaen Syvä, she wrote carefully, and then blew gently on the ink to dry it.

☙

The harvest was no quick thing. It was a matter of not days, but tendays, more than a full month of labour that required nearly the entire town to pitch in. The mana-infused crops had grown taller and more fruitful than in any year that Liv could remember, and the sight of overgrown fields and gardens reminded her of Master Reimis’ magic.

Even in a normal year, the farmers of the Aspen River Valley worked from dawn to dusk to get the crops in, but the amount of labour required this time was staggering. Baron Henry reduced the castle guard to only two men at a time, and sent all the others to help in the fields. The negotiations with Master Reimis must have been fruitful, for wagonloads of Elden workers came down the road from the north, set up tents outside of town, and joined in the mammoth task.

Liv was one of the few people not allowed to help. Even Masters Grenfell and Forester pitched in, though Aldo Cushing was too old. Baron Henry was carried out of his rooms every morning and set on his chair in the great hall, where he coordinated with Master Reimis and Lady Julianne to organize everything. With all their time taken up by the effort, Liv was sent to help the governess, Meredith, care for little Matthew. She still had her lessons in the morning with the old chirurgeon, but she spent the rest of her time either playing with the baby, or helping Mama and Gretta in the kitchen, where they toiled long hours to make enough food for the overworked castle guards.

It was probably not coincidence, Liv had decided, that the tasks she’d been given kept her well away from the Elden workers who had come south to help. Master Reimis had promised to keep the secret of her existence, and he couldn’t well do that if hundreds of people saw her out in the fields, and brought word of a lost Elden child back north.

Not until the fields were nearly empty did Master Grenfell come to the nursery to pluck her away from her tasks. "The last wagons are going north today," he said, from where he stood in the doorway. The wound he’d picked up during the culling had faded to a faint scar on his scalp, marking his forehead on the right side. "I’ve been neglecting your lessons, but this is an opportunity I do not want you to miss. Gather your things and meet me in the courtyard."

Liv handed the sleeping infant off to Meredith, lifted her staff from where she’d placed it in the corner, and then ran to her room to get her spellbook. Then, she rushed down the grand staircase and out into the courtyard. When, she wondered, had she stopped using the servants’ stairs?

Lady Julianne and Master Grenfell were waiting with the carriage, but Liv didn’t see the baron anywhere. "Henry saw the first load off," the baron’s wife explained. "And he was sore for days after. There’s no need for him to come now. Hop inside."

"What are we going to see?" Liv asked, once all three of them were seated and the carriage was rolling through the streets of The Hill. "We’re not going all the way up to the high passes, surely?"

"Oh no," Master Grenfell explained. "The Eld aren’t taking their wagons nearly so far. In fact, we’re going to the foot of Bald Peak, just outside the shoal of the rift."

"For what?" Liv wondered.

"We want you to see the waystone in use," Lady Julianne said. "Very few humans can wield enough mana to activate it, but Master Reimis can. Consider it your lesson for the day."

Liv couldn’t help but grin as the carriage left Whitehill through the west gate, then turned north.