Chapter 26: Fobucesaletejidusem, Cut at the Fingertip

The next morning, Dwayne snuck down to the kitchen, grabbed some bread and cheese and slipped out of Sanford’s front door. He hadn’t slept at all, at first because he’d been plowing through the lecture notes that Rodion had somehow procured and then because the question of what was in Fluid, Vapors, Gases and Their Myriad Applications was far too interesting for him to fall asleep. As such, he could have snuck out earlier but Rodion had been replacing the cellar door until the early hours and Dwayne had not wanted to deal with any more of the steward’s concern. With the steward finally asleep, Dwayne could go to the Tower and, with any luck, find out what was in the stolen book.

Read more: Chapter 26: Fobucesaletejidusem, Cut at the Fingertip

Unfortunately, riding carriages regularly had been a terrible way to learn how to navigate the city. When he reached Nieder Street, Dwayne had to stop to try and figure out where he was. Although he couldn’t see it, he knew the Palace was behind him, which meant the big hulking buildings in front of him were part of the Bilges and not the Exchange. To his left were more warehouses, numerous carts, the occasional pedestrian and to his right were trees, carriages, zero pedestrians.

He went right and resumed ignoring the protests of his body, which hadn’t yet recovered from the robbery. Perhaps he should take it easy because while his time here in Bradford hadn’t yet reached the thrilling heights of obliterating a section of jungle, if things like the robbery kept happening, it soon would.

He failed to dodge the splash of muddy water that accompanied a carriage halting next to him.

“Young Kalan,” called out a familiar voice.

“Thadden.” Dwayne shook mud off his ankles. “You’re well.”

“Despite your thoughtless actions.” Thadden stomped out of the carriage. “How dare you leave me lying on the ground.”

Despite the inaccuracy of the verb “leave”, Dwayne’s response came out in an even tone. “I had to chase down the thief. They took something that was mine.”

“Oh,” a sneer touched Thadden’s lips, “your misguided attempt to compromise with criminals failed? I’m shocked.”

Dwayne crossed his arms. “It was worth a try, Baron.”

“Well, the results speak for themselves.” Thadden drew himself up. “However, I am also appalled at the abhorrent treatment I received at the hands of your staff. When I regained consciousness, that puffed-up brat of a guard of yours refused to answer any of my questions, and your steward didn’t see fit to call a carriage for me. I had to find my own way home!”

Dwayne could explain that Mei and Rodion worked for Lord Kalan and that it wasn’t their job to take care of strangers. He could also go on a tirade about how if Thadden had employed Akunna instead of enslaving her, maybe she would have collected him before the night was out. He could, but if he did, he’d have to find a place to put his rage that wasn’t Thadden’s face.

“I’m glad to see that you managed to do so,” Dwayne managed through clenched teeth. “My apologies for any troubles that must have caused you. I’m on my way to-”

“And what’s this about you missing classes yesterday?” Thadden’s finger thumped against Dwayne’s chest. “That was not a part of our agreement.”

“What are you talking about?” Dwayne stepped out of range of the finger. “Class attendance was not one of the requirements.”

“It was implied. After all, how could the Royal Sorcerer keep an apprentice who disregards the main mission of the Magisterium?”

It would be so easy just to shove a fireball into the man’s teeth. ““Do you not want the job anymore? I can find someone else.”

“Young Kalan,” the baron’s hands came up quickly, “there’s no need to do anything hasty. I’m just looking out for you. All I’m saying is that a proper mage devotes herself to emulating the foundational principles of magic and leaves squabbling in the dirt to the laity.” He offered Dwayne a smile. “Let’s move past this disagreement and agree that preserving the peace and prosperity Soura has enjoyed these many years is paramount.”

Even after Dwayne took a slow deep breath and allowed his rage fade into embers, the best response he could manage to this inane statement was a brief nod.

“Excellent.” Thadden straightened his robes. “By the way, were you able to find out anything out about the thieves?”

“Well,” said Dwayne far too brightly, “I found out that they murdered the windsong messenger.”

The baron froze. “How do you know that?”

Dwayne let sugar saturate his words. “The Tower’s Head Guard Mei has been working on solving the murders with a Scrytive Vogt from the Chamber. She was on duty that night when they attacked and recognized the weapon one of them used as a stiletto.”

“A stiletto.” Thadden bowed his head. “Poor Juanelo.”

Dwayne’s eyebrows raised. “You knew the victim? Have you gone down to the Chamber and identified the body? Mei mentioned that a family member would do it, but a second look would-”

“Oh, I didn’t know him.” Thadden shook his head for emphasis.

Dwayne blinked. “Then how did you know his name?”

“Well,” Thadden shrugged, “it’s a well known fact that all one has to do in order to keep abreast of all that happens in Bradford is listen to the Her Highness’s lay clerks during lunch, which they regularly take with the Chamber’s clerks.”

Dwayne’s ribs squeezed. Cross-office lunches sounded like fun. “Is that all you wanted to talk about, Baron?”

“Oh, yes.” Thadden turned to his carriage then paused. “Wait, there is one more thing. It has come to my attention that Lady Pol will be your Attestor at tomorrow night’s Rite.”

“Why?” Attestors made sure that attestees didn’t cheat. “Why aren’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Thadden entered his carriage, “but she is determined to get in our way. Don’t let her.” He rapped on the side of the carriage. “And don’t miss any more classes!”

As he watched Thadden’s carriage roll away, Dwayne did all he could not to scream. All he wanted to do was to quietly study magic, not deal with the fallout of Lord Kalan’s abdication or manage Thadden’s shifting demands or try to divine whatever Lady Pol’s plan was.

But there was nothing he could do at the moment about any of that so he resumed walking to the Tower.

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Chapter 25: Xa-chou-ti-tsang-chin-ciada, Lion’s Beard

As Dwayne got dressed, Mei waited with the carriage. On the other side of the street, people dressed in loose scarves of various colors had started shopping and eating and doing errands in stark contrast with her side where nothing and no one stirred. She’d seen people dressed like that before back in Walton.

Akunna stomped out of her apartment. “It’s like he ain’t never worn a dress before.”

Read more: Chapter 25: Xa-chou-ti-tsang-chin-ciada, Lion’s Beard

Mei pointed across the street. “Have you seen any windsong go in there?”

“Yeah, all the time.” The maid’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“I’m looking for one.” Mei hadn’t even considered searching the Plague District since mages should be able to afford better, but they hadn’t found Juanelo anywhere else so it was worth a shot.

“If you can’t find one there, you can’t find one anywhere.” Akunna glared at Dwayne as Rodion helped him out of her apartment. “Finally.”

“Thank you for helping me.” Dwayne reached for his empty hip. “If I can repay you in any way-”

“Just make sure you give me that dress back in one piece. No blood or tears.”

Dwayne cleared his throat. “I, uh, also apologize-”

Akunna’s raised hand cut him off. “Don’t. Just go.”

“Okay.” Dwayne allowed Rodion to help him into the carriage. When Mei didn’t follow, he frowned. “Are you coming, Mei?”

“No, I’m going there.”

Dwayne followed Mei’s finger to the waking Vanurian Quarter. “Oh. You think…?”

Mei nodded.

“Then good luck. I’ll see you back at Sanford. Let’s go, Rodion.”

When mage and steward were safely away, Mei said good-bye to Akunna, crossed the muddy street, and entered the densest part of Bradford she’d seen yet. The Vanurian Quarter’s streets were much narrower than those in the Bilges, leaving little room for carts and stands and so sellers sold wares right out of their doors and windows to buyers who had to sidle past each other to go down the street. Mei had to do so herself as she resisted the siren call of the sweet and savory and then found herself very lost. Apparently, only having a vague notion of where Juanelo had lived was not enough to actually find him. She’d need a sign so she looked up.

As numerous as the leaves in a trees, the signs on the buildings of the Vanurian Quarter promised food, drink, pens, something to do with lips, and so much more, but what caught Mei’s eye as she stumbled down the street was a sign graced with a green three-tailed maned panther. While the whole thing wasn’t at all familiar, its parts looked very familiar, and so by the time she’d made her way to the open half door that lay underneath the panther, she wasn’t surprised to find a lean bald woman in fitted green windsong leathers.

The windsong glanced up from her fingernails, saw Mei’s uniform, and straightened up. “If your noble employer wants something delivered anywhere in the Queendom cheaply, neatly, and discreetly, then you’ve come to the right place.”

“I don’t need that.” Mei pointed up at the sign. “That’s your provisional license symbol?”

“Yeah.” Toni crossed her arms. “Why?”

“Have you ever seen a windsong with a stamp of a yellow bird with a big tuft of feathers on its head and a short tail?”

The windsong took a moment to assemble that image in her head. “That sounds like Juanelo’s mark.”

Finally, Mei was close. “Do you know where he lived?”

“Did?” Toni leaned forward. “Why past tense?”

“Juanelo is dead.”

“By Phons.” Toni’s fingertips formed a sign and fell into praying hands. “He was doing good work. They’ll miss him around here.”

“Where did he live?”

“I’ll draw you a map.” Toni pulled out pen an,d paper. “The Ybarras live a few blocks to the south of here and it’s an absolute maze, and… Oh, Phons… They don’t know, do they?”

“I’ll tell them.”

Mei thanked the windsong, took the map, and made it all the way to the street corner before she processed what the windsong had said. Juanelo Rincón Ybarra had had parents, siblings, maybe even cousins, and what she had to say was going to wreck their world.

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Chapter 24: Qeakunutbuke, Ripple the Waters

Early next morning, Magdala entered in the results of her latest failure into the project’s notes:

Trial #17

Action: A nQeanum casting was prepared at the smallest possible attenuation along with a nQerikwem casting at one standard level of attenuation. Both castings were released in quick succession and followed by an incomplete Qe casting.

Result: The thin skin created by nQeanum failed, releasing the liquefied azade. Qe resonance was not established. Remains disposed of using standard protocol.

In other words, Magdala’s efforts had turned the azade into a sticky mash. At least she’d reformed most of the skull sized azade spheres into much smaller palm-sized ones, which had made clean up take only a quarter of an hour after each failure instead of a full hour. That said it was clear that she was doing something wrong.

She glanced at the empty seats across the table from her.

Magdala’s attempts to get Francesca to come back had been just as successful as her attempts to set the Qe into the azade by herself. She’d tried logic, emotional appeal, and even the promise of glory, but her roommate refused to return and had even taken to waking up early just to avoid Magdala at breakfast. As for the third member of the team, Magdala had glimpsed Colin once or twice before he disappeared into the college’s basement library.

Hoping to move past these thoughts, Magdala grabbed another small azade sphere and placed it on a stand in the center of the table, but before she could start attempt number eighteen, doubt snuck in a few questions. Why couldn’t her roommate see things her way? Was this the end of their friendship? Was joint magic the only way?

Desperately, Magdala seized on that last question, which had other implications beyond the personal. Thaumaturgically speaking, joint magic could be introducing some kind of magical interference that was getting in the way of Qe setting into the azade and since spell preparation could also result in some overlap of spells, it could also be creating this hypothetical interference. Dwayne’s notes didn’t mention such a thing, and neither had her lord uncle in his many lectures on the subject, but they had been relying on a sound metaphor this whole time and that had always been a concern for musicians. Perhaps reducing the number of spells cast would get rid of the interference? She should drop nQeanum, it was definitely her weaker spell, and find a mechanical way to replace it, something like…

It didn’t take her long to jury-rig a solution from a large beaker and filtered water. After filling the beaker with the water, she dropped the azade in, waited for it to sink to the bottom and then turned the water into ice with a quick casting of nQeanum. Then she flipped the beaker over, hit it on its bottom to pop out the cylinder of ice, and then used a few delicate castings of nQerikwem to revealed a dot of azade.

Now for the moment of truth. “nQerikwe.”

Immediately, the spell settled onto her temples as two half doun weights. She was used to it now, ever since she’d forced herself to use spell preparation to create Dwayne’s spell shunts, but she was still glad she didn’t have to prepare the second spell. How adults managed five or more spells she’d never know.

Gently, she placed the tip of her finger on the azade. “em. Qe.”

Her prepared spell worked perfectly, but Qe casting rebelled immediately, which was different. In the previous trials, the Qe casting had screamed for direction and then just died, but this time, it twisted free of her control and ripped through the liquid azade, causing it to boil and melt the ice, and that wasn’t right, it couldn’t be right, and so she bit off the casting.

When the smoke and mist cleared, there was a dark orange stone sitting on top of the table, the wreckage of the ice melting around it. Magdala picked it up out of the puddle of water and stared at it. It was as if the azade’s natural deep ocean blue color had been burned away.

“That is a fascinating result.”

Magdala almost dropped the thing. “Dean Bruce!”

“At ease, young Gallus.” The dean plucked the what-was-once azade out of Magdala’s hand. “This almost looks like… nQeuom.” She grinned. “I knew it. It’s tytumber.”

“Tytumber?”

“A somewhat rare substance mostly found in azade mines.” Dean Bruce held it up and watched the gray morning light curl around the little bubbles. “The Vanurians claim that it’s completely useless and don’t bother to sell it, but I heard that the Empire has found certain… applications for it.” Her eyes dropped to Magdala. “Speaking of mines, how is young Kalan?”

Magdala blinked at the sudden shift. “He’s fine? I haven’t spoken to him since…” Cups, had it really been almost a week? “Well, for some time.”

“Then you haven’t had a chance to wield those new flame spell apparatuses he made?”

Magdala had heard that Dwayne’s new fire spell vials were a hit among the minor mage families, which she really was happy about, even though it was Colin’s sister who was getting all the praise for helping him out.

“I haven’t.”

“They appear to use an azade solution as a medium.” Dean Bruce rolled the tytumber between her fingers. “And there are reports that he’s taking credit for creating the solution himself.”

Magdala scoffed. “That’s ridiculous.”

The dean’s eyebrows lifted. “That Dwayne created them?”

“That Dwayne would ever take credit for something he didn’t do.”

“But could he do it?”

“Ah…” Magdala didn’t need Dwayne covering her mouth to know they’d stumbled into dangerous ground. “My lord uncle mostly focused on his Qe education.”

“That makes more sense. Lord Kalan was never known to be proficient at nQe magic.” Dean Bruce glanced at the empty seats at the table. “I notice that Mr. Fletcher and Miss Lucchesi are not here.”

Oh good. Technically less dangerous ground. “We’re, ah, working the problem from different angles. Because our first attempt went so badly.”

Dean Bruce’s eyes flicked to the project log. “I see. Well, I should tell you that I expect your team to produce a demonstrable result for this year’s Mage’s Offering.”

The dean’s words hit Magdala like an avalanche. “You expect us to offer our results at the Harvest Ball?”

“Will that be a problem?”

The Harvest Ball was in just three days, Magdala’s team had scattered to the wind, and the only time they’d even gotten close had literally blown up in their faces, but despite all that a shocked Magdala heard herself said, “No, it won’t, Dean.”

“Excellent.” The dean indicated the tytumber. “May I?

“Of course,” said Magdala’s treacherous mouth. “I can always make more.”

As soon as the dean was gone, Magdala’s brain finally had time to survey the damage. There were only two real plans at this point and one of them undermined the very reason why she was doing this at all. The other one required her to do something drastic, something that part of her had thought was necessary from the very start, but that the rest of her had thought was unfair.

Apologize.

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I feel like WordPress had a block quote block that actually worked. Did something happen to it? I’ve been using columns to simulate the effect

Chapter 23: Ri’mwe’iki’jie’mun’tha, Incandescent Screen

Mei opened her eyes to the green contours and dark shadows of an interior canopy she didn’t recognize. Then she blinked and the contours and shadows became the green drapes over the bed Dwayne and Rodion had put her in. Judging by the lamplight streaming in from the window, she’d slept till nightfall, probably because of the heavy lunch Fran had insisted on bringing to celebrate Mei’s “moving into society.”

Read more: Chapter 23: Ri’mwe’iki’jie’mun’tha, Incandescent Screen

Rolling out of bed, which took some effort as it was wider than her and her brother’s entire room in the Bilges, Mei planted stockinged feet on soft warm carpet and stretched her arms, completely failing to touch a wall as she. In addition to the huge bed and the wide space, the guardians of Sanford had provided a small warehouse of a wardrobe, two cushioned chairs, and a small table. These had delighted Fran to no end, which had convinced Mei to one day invite Mrs. Schofeld over as a thank you for all the good stew. At the moment, however, she had to hand Dwayne her painstakingly written progress report.

Over the past three days, Mei and Charlie had been searching city records and knocking on city doors in a process so excruciating that she’s found herself thinking fondly of the time she’d almost froze to death on a hunt last winter. It didn’t help that Mei had to rack back and forth from the Magisterium to Bradford to mediate Maggie’s persistent attempts to get Fran to work on the project again. Neither mage had asked Mei to do this, but without her, Fran finding some excuse to have lunch off-campus, which would cause Maggie complain and inadvertently extend the fight that neither she nor Fran actually wanted to have but were having anyway.

As a result, it was a relief that Charlie had called off the search to write on his own report and that Fran and Maggie were sleeping in separate rooms, the former at her aunt’s place, the latter at Tarpan, so nothing would be said to make the fight worse. Since it was Huan’s turn to guard, Mei could finally head to Boscage and continue her search for Juanelo on her way, by climbing rooftops and looking in windows.

Just as she finished donning her uniform, the door to her room burst open, and Huan ambled in. “Finally, you’re awake.”

Mei frowned at her brother, who was wearing his old tunic and scarf instead of his uniform. “It’s your turn tonight.”

“About that.” Huan leaned against her door. “I have a date.”

“So?” Mei strapped on her weapons. “I have work.”

“It’s not like that guy is getting any less dead. On a night like this, I bet that scrytive of yours is tossing back beers with his buddies.”

“He’s not.” Mei grabbed her report and Maggie’s sleep bomb. “I’m going.”

She tried to push past him, but her brother caught her by the elbow.

“Hey, wait,” he switched to soft commoner’s Tuquese, “look, I won’t be all night, just for a couple of hours. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Will you?” Mei’s own Tuquese sounded flat in her ears. “And why are you just leaving? Dwayne says that you do that all the time without telling him or Rodion.”

“Because,” her brother’s voice became a growl, “that steward of his is taking our little conversation from the other day very literally. Every time I’m late for my shift, every time I take a break, he docks my pay like I’ve committed some sort of sin.”

That hadn’t been Mei’s experience. That almost sounded like Rodion was suspicious of Huan, whose presence at Sanford did correspond with a cessation of thefts around Bradford.

But that had to be a coincidence. Mei cleared her throat and asked, in Souran, “Who is the date?”

“Does that mean you’re going to cover my shift?” asked Huan in Souran. “Because I’m planning to have a real good time.”

“I don’t need details.” Mei pulled her arm free. “Just be back soon.”

“I will.” He hesitated before leaving. “You’ll be watching the front door, right?”

Mei shrugged. “Sure.”

“Excellent. Wish me luck!”

He ran off, leaving Mei alone in the hallway.

This was fine. He should have swapped her for one of her shifts, but that would have been a hassle for such a short period of time. It was fine that that Dwayne didn’t mention Huan when Mei gave him her report, that Rodion didn’t mention that Huan when she stopped by the kitchen to grab a pastry, that Huan wasn’t at the front door to hand off his shift to her. It didn’t matter that Zelda had said that the thefts had stopped the last few nights, which were the same nights that Huan had been on night duty at Sanford. It didn’t matter that he never said “please” or “thank you” or “how are you?”

This was fine.

What wasn’t fine was how bright Sanford’s courtyard was now that Rodion had had the lamps fixed. Combine that with how high the courtyard’s walls were and the many, many windows of the house meant that the worst place to guard Sanford’s front door was Sanford’s front door.

Fortunately, she could see a solution across the street.

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