David Niemitz
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Guild Mage 146
🕑 Added 2025-04-07 20:28:39 +0000 UTCChapter 146: Wands and Inscriptions
That afternoon, rumors spread from the town below the bluff that the sheriff of Coral Bay would conduct a public hanging on the next market day. Liv and Wren, on their way to Professor Norris’ enchanting workshops from a session of Authority training with Celestria Ward, caught fragments of it from passing knots of students moving between classes.
“Do you know anything about this?” Liv asked Wren, as they turned around the back of Blackstone Hall. The smells of woodsmoke, metal, leather, dye, and a hundred other kinds of crafting supplies drifted toward them on the sea breeze.
Wren shook her head. “I haven’t had a chance to head into town and do some listening since we got back,” she admitted. “With your dreams and all last night. But I can see what I can learn, if you want.”
Liv nodded. “I’ll be safe enough here, don’t worry about me.”
“You and the word safe don’t go together,” Wren grumbled. “You’re going to be in the workshops for a while?”
“Long enough to get started on two wands, at least,” Liv said. “If I’m gone by the time you get back, I’ll be at High Hall.” Wren nodded, broke off from walking by Liv’s side, and headed off toward the courtyard at the center of campus. Liv wasn't entirely certain what hidden corners Wren used to change shape, but she was confident there would be a small bat flitting through the attics and rooftops of Coral Bay shortly.
She ducked into the workshops, making her way past a burly third year pounding a sword into shape at a forge, and a first-year girl Liv recognized from her remedial combat course blowing glass. She’d chosen to come at the same time that Arjun and Rosamund had their advanced enchanting course, and noticed that her friends were working on projects under the direction of Professor Norris’ journeymen. Arjun was working on a similar sort of wand to those she’d seen the Whitehill chirurgeons, the late Master Cushing and later Mistress Trafford, use.
Rosemund, on the other hand, was etching Vædic sigils into a plow. Liv paused, watching the other girl work for a moment. Her dark hair had been growing out a bit, Liv saw, and was now just enough to hang in Rose’s eyes as she bent over her work.
“What will it do?” Liv asked.
“Cem helps the plow cut through the field more easily,” Rosamund said, without looking up. “One of the ways my family makes enough coin to keep the castle from leaking in the rain. We sell them to the merchants' guild, and they ship them all over. After my brother taught me the word, helping prep the new plows was one of the only things my father allowed me to do.”
It wasn’t the first time Rose had hinted about not getting along with her family, but Liv had never pressed the topic. She opened her mouth, on the verge of asking, but before she could Professor Norris’ voice broke in.
“Journeyman Brodbeck,” the enchanting professor greeted her, emerging from the room where he’d been keeping the remains of the Antrian war machine, Karis. “What brings you to the workshops?”
Liv turned away from Rose, and put a smile on her face. Even though Norris had interrupted her, he probably hadn’t meant anything by it; the professor was notoriously absent minded - or perhaps just so focused on his current projects that he didn’t pay attention to anything else. Also, she needed something from him.
“Good afternoon, Professor,” she said. “I needed to get some new wands in order for the remedial magical combat course.”
“Breaking them already?” Norris asked, with a frown. “We usually start making a new batch around the beginning of harvest season, to have them ready for the new classes.”
“The thing is,” Liv explained, “I want to do things a little bit differently. I asked two of my students to come to me with a spell each, and I’ll make the wands for them. That way, when they duel next class, there’s an element of strategy to it, and they each won’t know what to expect from each other.”
Norris regarded her evenly for a long moment. “That will be a great deal more work for you,” he pointed out. “Making two new wands every few days. It’s been years since a journeyman was willing to put that much effort into a remedial course.”
Liv shrugged. “Just at first. Once there’s a selection of different wands built up, I think it’ll be more about them choosing from the stock. There’s only so many unique ideas they’re going to have, at this stage.”
“Come this way,” Norris said, and set off through the work spaces toward the store rooms where the supplies were kept. He removed a ring of keys from his belt, unlocked one of the doors, and led Liv inside. Tall, wide shelving units had been built into all of the walls, extending from the floor all the way up to the ceiling, and on each one lay piles of driftwood. Liv reached her hand out and ran a finger along one knotted piece: she could feel the mana infusing it from exposure to the tidal rift.
“Find yourself two pieces,” Norris told her. “Turstin and Genne have keys; I’ll tell them to give you what you need.”
“Thank you,” Liv said.
The professor ducked back out through the door, leaving her alone with piles of wood. Liv took a deep breath and began sorting through the shelves. There were pieces of all shapes and sizes, and they seemed to have been arranged on the shelves depending on how long they’d been exposed to the mana of the rift - and thus how densely infused with it the pieces were.
If she’d been making something for herself, Liv would have gone right to the wood that had steeped in raw mana the longest. However, she wasn’t going to spend the next two or three months building herself a masterpiece. Instead, she needed something that she could get into rough shape over the course of less than two days. She wanted thin pieces of driftwood no longer than her own arm: scraps that were already nearly wand shaped, and that could be cleaned up with just a bit of whittling and sanding.
By the time she’d emerged, Liv had what she wanted: two pieces of wood, sun-bleached nearly as pale as bone, smoothed by time in the waves. She borrowed a whittling knife and a rasp, then found herself a seat near Rosamund to get to work. Liv couldn’t help but think back to her first staff, the one she’d made with Master Grenfell so many years ago, and how he’d forced her to remove all the bark herself, over her complaints. At least with the driftwood, she could skip that part of the process.
“You’re really going to enchant two wands in two days?” Rose asked, looking up from her work with the plow.
“They won’t be works of art,” Liv admitted, scoring one of the pieces of driftwood in two places at the thicker end, marking where she would round out a handle. “I’ll cut them down to the right length, make a handle that won’t hurt to hold, and then carve the sigils in. I’m not going to inlay them with metal or anything. It’s fine if these don’t last very long. And it gives me practice.”
They worked side by side for a while, in silence, before Liv asked something she’d been wondering about. “You all got pulled into the eruption outside of Freeport, right? What was that like?”
“Gull Island Rift,” Rosamund said. “Ugh. What a horrible place. There’s nothing on the entire thing but rocks, sand, and bird nests, and they shit everywhere. The rocks are streaked while, and the smell is just -” she gagged, and Liv couldn’t tell if it was exaggerated for effect, or involuntary from the memory.
“Anyway,” Rose continued, “the shoals normally extend out to the nearest sandbar. We had people on shore as a fallback point, and people on boats at the edge of the eruption. Archmagus Loredan made sure no one got close to the depths, but that still meant some of us landed on the beaches. We made a ring around the high rocks at the center of the island, where the rift is. And then we fought birds. Birds, crabs - at least I didn’t have to deal with the sharks. It was like the king tide here, except the water is twice as cold, and everything was three times as crazy. I saw knights get scooped up by an osprey the size of a horse, carried off, and then dropped on the rocks.”
“I’m glad we don’t usually get gulls here,” Liv said, trimming the tip of her first piece of driftwood. “You remember the gyrfalcon up north?”
Rose nodded. “That was terrifying,” she admitted, setting aside her etching tools and taking a moment to stretch. Liv could hear the sound of the dark-haired girl’s back cracking. “I would have rather been with you and Arjun in Lendh ka Dakruim,” she said again. “At least then I would have had people around I knew I could rely on.”
Liv sighed. “We could have used you,” she admitted. “Most of the ksatriya were fine, but – I told you one of them turned on us at the bottom of the rift? Jagan? I would have felt a lot better if all my friends were there. Arjun and Wren got me out, but –”
“I did what, now?” Wren asked, plopping down on Liv’s other side.
“Pulled me out of the Well of Bones in one piece,” Liv explained. “That was quick.”
“Not a lot of secrets about this one,” Wren said. “They caught Obediah Cartwright trying to get on a ship bound for Varuna. Apparently he slipped out of town during the attack, rode north, and hid in one of the smaller fishing ports. They’ve been looking for him for weeks, and they finally got him and dragged him back here.”
Liv and Rose shared a look. “They’ll have questioned him,” Liv said, recalling how Baron Henry would grill accused criminals from his seat at the high table in the great hall at Whitehill. She’d been on the receiving end of that, long ago. “They wouldn’t be hanging him if they hadn’t already learned everything they think they can. What’s the charge?”
“Disturbing the peace, smuggling, robbery, and treason,” Wren answered. “They really piled it on, now they have someone to blame. The merchants’ guild has disbarred him. Archmagus Jurian is being hailed as the hero who stopped Cartwright’s raid on the rift.” She dropped her voice. “No mention of us in the official records.”
“Good,” Liv said. “Jurian will probably know anything they’ve learned.”
“The fact he was trying to get to Varuna,” Rose said. “You figure that means he wasn’t just being used? He was actually working for Ractia?”
“Part of the cult, more likely,” Wren said. “I don’t know how much she really deals in coin – but she’s more than willing to give people power.”
“We’ll have to try to catch a moment alone with him,” Liv resolved.
“Come down early with me tomorrow morning,” Wren suggested. “You can watch me knock him around the training ground for a bit and then get him talking.”
With a sigh, Liv resolved that she would be rising earlier than usual.
☙
By the time they retired to High Hall for the evening meal, Liv had two wands roughly worked into shape. If there’d been any more work necessary, it wouldn’t have been possible, but she’d been fortunate in her choice of wood. She left them both in the workshop to be enchanted the following day, and waited to see whether Alan, first-year boy, would find her. Tephenia she wasn’t worried about, and just as she’d expected, her friend was waiting to pounce as soon as Liv, Rose and Wren came up the stairs onto the second floor landing.
“Liv!” Teph exclaimed, leaping up from where she’d been waiting with a piece of folded parchment clutched in her hands. Sidonie was seated next to her.
“Let me have it, then,” Liv said, with a grin, and held her hand out. Once Teph had passed the parchment over, Liv opened it up and scanned over the inscription. “Legis,” she murmured aloud. “Interesting idea.”
“You can make it?” Teph asked, wringing her hands nervously.
Liv nodded. “I can. I’ve got the wand roughed out already, and I’ll do the inscription and actual enchanting tomorrow. I’m curious to see how it works.”
“Thank you!” Teph exclaimed, hugged Liv once, and then bounced over to the table, where everyone was taking their seats. With Edith seemingly gone for good, there was more than enough room at evening meals for Rosamund, Wren, and often Arjun.
“What sort of nonsense is Liv up to now?” Florence asked, settling in.
“I’m making wands for the remedial magical combat students,” Liv said. “So they can get a better idea of what dueling is actually like. In fact, I’m expecting carrot-head –”
“Alan, Liv,” Tephania broke in. “His name is Alan. You should at least learn the names of your students.”
Liv shrugged. “Anyway, I’m waiting for him to show up and give me his inscription sometime tonight.”
“After dinner in the great hall is over,” Rosamund said. “That’s my bet.”
Under the direction of Lambert, the kitchen staff emerged from the staircase carrying platters of food. The dining table quickly filled up, and conversation turned to other matters as the girls ate. Liv was particularly interested in hearing what Florence and Helewise had to say about the impending execution.
“It’s no surprise,” Helly said, in between spoonfuls of lobster bisque. “King Benedict had to show that he can defend the kingdom. Of course they’ll execute anyone involved they can catch.”
“Do you think this will change his plans regarding Varuna?” Liv asked, prodding at them. Both girls came from wealthy noble families, and they could provide her a window into the sentiments circulating the court.
“Varuna?” Florence frowned. “I don’t see why it would. This Cartwright person hired a bunch of mercenaries to raid a rift, and they ran right into an archmage. If anything, I expect he’s finally going to take more of a hand in setting standards with the guilds. After all, this criminal was smuggling under the noses of the merchants’ guild for years, and they never noticed.”
Liv shared a look with Wren: she didn’t want to reveal too much of what she knew, but she doubted there would be a safer time or place to push. “I heard there were Eld among the mercenaries,” she said. “And Master Norris has some sort of Antrian in his workshop.”
“I’m sure you can hire Eldish mercenaries as easily as anyone else,” Helly said. “They’re all the scum of the world, willing to do anything for enough coin. Mercenaries, I mean, not Eld. Anyway, no offense, Liv, we know you aren’t like that.”
“The Antrian’s actually where the smuggling charge came from,” Florence said, waving her spoon about as if she was a professor lecturing at the slate board. “They haven’t quite figured out where Cartwright got it, though, I hear.”
“Taking that sort of thing secretly from a rift and activating it is quite illegal,” Sidonie pointed out.
“It’s a good thing Archmagus Jurian was able to defeat it,” Wren said. Liv bit her tongue.
“Pardon me? I’m looking for Journeyman Brodbeck?” a voice called from the stairwell.
Liv turned to look, and saw the red-headed boy. “Alan,” she said, deliberately. There, she’d learned his name. “You brought me your inscription?”
He nodded, crossed the landing, and handed Liv a piece of parchment. She recognized the spell at a glance; this one would be easy.
“I’ll have it done for you the morning of class,” Liv assured the boy. “Good luck.”
“Thank you,” he said, and retreated back down the stairs.
“What is it?” Teph asked, leaning across the dinner table.
“You’ll find out the morning of class,” Liv said. “I’m not telling you. You’ll be surprised just like he is.” Teph made a face and stuck out her tongue, but Liv ignored her. Instead, she stood up and took both the inscriptions into her room. Wren followed.
“We know the official story now, I suppose,” Liv said. “I have a hard time believing just how willfully ignorant people can be. I feel like anyone who is paying attention should be able to see what’s happening in the world around them.”
“They don’t want to,” Wren said. “I didn’t want to, either. I just did what my father said. For years. Anyway,” she continued, “if there’s no rumors about you, that’s only a good thing.”
Liv tucked the two incantations into her spellbook and closed it. She didn’t really need to keep them, but she hated to waste parchment. When she stepped out of her bedchamber into the sitting room, she saw that Rosamund and Sidonie had sat down, and closed the door to the landing.
“The king has his criminal,” Sidonie remarked. “As far as he’s concerned, I’m sure that settles everything with the attack here.”
“Teph?” Liv asked, glancing at the door.
“She’s going to have to be here for years yet,” Sidonie said. “And then a court mage somewhere after that. You should start considering which conversations are safe for her to be a part of, and which aren’t.”
“I don’t know that anything is going to be safe,” Liv admitted. “Even if the king pretends otherwise. How long are you staying, Sidonie?”
“Just until you’re ready to leave,” her friend promised, leaning forward. Sidonie’s eyes, behind her spectacles, sparkled. “The next time you throw yourself into an abyss, I intend to be there with you. I want you to take me with you to the bottom of a rift.”
Comments
John Koor
pale as boon > bone The rocks are streaked while > white
Ike5421
I love this story such wonderful and heartwarming friendship.
