by V. St. Clair
“I received the last of the monthly financial reports from the tenants who contract with us for farmland,” Cowen Frost began speaking without greeting his only son or apologizing for his tardiness. “Most of my apothecaries have also sent in their preliminary earnings statements, though of course those will not be finalized until the end of the quarter.”
“All right,” Aleric acknowledged, silently thankful that they wouldn’t have to spend hours reviewing the accountants’ logs for each apothecary chain that the Frosts owned and operated.
They sat beside each other and reviewed the ledgers mostly in silence, Aleric’s father making him look over everything first before giving his own approval, to test his skills, since this would one day be a task that fell to him.
Or, if I can persuade her to do it, my future wife.
Did Susanna Kilgore enjoy arithmetic? He’d have to ask her the next time they had one of their informal get-togethers…
It took hours to finish with the ledgers; it always did. No matter how boring and tedious Aleric found it, he knew better than to make casual conversation with his father during their review; the man hated people who wasted his time and who couldn’t remain silent for long stretches.
Finally, mercifully, Aleric reviewed the last of the sheets, passing it off to his father and grimacing at the sight of the sun setting in the sky behind him. It had taken even longer than he’d thought to get through it this time.
Good, maybe Father won’t have time to question me too much about school…
“Other than the missed negative sign from the Tennerens, and that duplicate line item on the Gershman’s, I see no other issues with any of the preliminary filings,” he said at last, clearing his throat when his voice cracked from prolonged lack of use.
“I agree,” Cowen Frost nodded curtly, looking mildly distracted. Usually he only looked distracted or worried when his memory was giving him a lot of trouble, or if a big business deal was going unfavorably…
“Are you feeling unwell tonight, Father?” Aleric asked carefully, smart enough to know that it was a bad idea to ask about his failing memory directly. The entire family pretended that the problem didn’t exist, as though that would make it go away. In the meantime, Aleric’s mother assumed more and more responsibility for her husband’s work and attended more of his meetings.
One of Cowen Frost’s eyelids blinked in annoyance and his jaw seemed to become set and rigid within his closed mouth.
“I am well,” he answered simply.
Knowing he was pushing his luck, Aleric said, “You seem distracted.”
“Merely tired,” his father corrected firmly.
“All right,” he got to his feet, hoping he had done his family duty and would be able to escape back to Mizzenwald unscathed. “If there’s nothing else…”
“How are your research projects progressing?”
Aleric let loose a string of curse words inside his head and took a calming breath before returning to his seat.
“Master Sark and I have made some progress in Powders,” he decided to start with the good news. “The stabilizer we have been working on for weeks is coming together,” it’s just a shame it looks brown and lumpy instead of black and smooth. “We should be ready to go to trials with it before the end of the month.”
“How long do you expect trials to take before you are ready to publish something?”
A good round of trials would take at least until summer break, possibly longer, but Cowen Frost would doubtless balk at the thought of months of testing to validate their findings. He would want something out in less than two months…
“A couple months at the earliest,” he compromised, hoping it was feasible. “We need enough time to make sure that our findings are universally applicable, or to note any exceptions, or our work will be open to criticism after it becomes public knowledge.”
“Hmm, two months is a long time for trials,” was all his father said.
Aleric waited for a moment to see if there would be any further rebuke, but none was forthcoming. He almost exhaled in relief until his father added, “And Prisms?”
Well, here goes nothing…
“Actually, sir, I’ve temporarily halted my research in Prisms.”
As expected, he had hardly gotten the words out of his mouth before his father turned to glare at him.
“You had better be joking.”
“I’m not, though if you’ll allow me to explain I believe you’ll agree with my decision…” I certainly hope you do, at least, or I may be the first scion of the Frost family who is murdered within the walls of this estate.
“By all means, convince me that I shouldn’t pluck you out of school right now and bring you home to do something worthwhile with your time,” Cowen Frost said in a dangerously quiet voice.
“Recently, Master Antwar called Asher and I together and informed us that we were both separately—and secretly—working on the same research project in his class.”
His father looked genuinely surprised to hear this and said, “Asher Masters was also working on underwater light-bending?”
Heartened by the note of indignation in his voice, Aleric continued.
“Yes, Father. Antwar suggested that the two of us combine forces on the subject and work together. I considered it an indignity to our family name to be strung along for months by my mentor, only to be told I should share credit for my work not just with him, but with another student. I declined his suggestion and informed him that I was dropping my research on the subject entirely and leaving it to Asher, while I try to come up with a new topic. In the meantime, it has allowed me to focus solely on my work with Sark in Powders, which is currently much more promising.”
His father listened to this in contemplative silence, taking a long moment to think before responding.
“While I agree with your decision to refuse continuing your research on that particular project, I do not want word getting out that the heir to this family pulled out of his major at school just because of a teacher. Find a new topic to work on in Prisms, and make sure it is a good one this time.”
Aleric frowned, itching to tell the man that it wasn’t exactly easy to think up problems that no one else had managed to solve yet and then actually finding a way to solve them. There was generally a reason why undiscovered magic was still undiscovered…
His mother would have been more understanding, since she was also a mage and could appreciate the challenge he was facing.
“I’ll draft a new project by the end of the month,” he sighed in resignation.
“You’ll draft a new project by the end of the week,” his father corrected in a tone that brooked no argument. “Every day that you waste at school is a day you could be doing something useful for this family.”
“My work at school is useful for this family,” Aleric snapped back, nettled. “I’ve already had a major publication and several minor ones. You bring accolades to the family in your own way and leave me to mine.”
“Brave words, coming from you. I suppose your friend has been teaching you how to be more assertive?”
Fuming, Aleric said, “I don’t need Asher to teach me how to talk to you. I don’t know why you think I’m incapable of doing anything smart or worthwhile on my own, but you seem to prefer the boy with no bloodlines and middling motivation for success over your own son.”
His father stared at him as though he were a precocious toddler that needed to be sent to time-out.
“Your friend knows who he is, and you do not. If you had been born with his confidence and sense of purpose, this would all be much easier.”
Aleric got to his feet, the blood rushing in his face as he clenched his fists at his side—mostly to avoid punching his father in the face.
“If I’m such a disappointment, disinherit me and adopt Asher instead.”
“Careful, boy. You do not want to challenge me on something you don’t want to see happen, or you will be unpleasantly surprised by t
he outcome.”
They stared at each other in silence for a moment, each seething in their own way. Finally, Aleric said, “May I be excused?”
“Yes, leave me alone.” His father waved him away with one hand, and Aleric turned and walked away, only too happy to oblige.
He was so angry that the only thing he could hear as he stormed through the house and across the grounds was the blood pounding through his head. Knowing Cowen Frost, the man would disinherit him and offer to take on his best friend as a ward out of spite. It would be the scandal of the decade: the sole blooded heir to the Frost family being thrown out like yesterday’s garbage while a commoner was brought in to take his place.
Well, the man would get a rude awakening when he pitched the idea to Asher, who had absolutely no ambition from what Aleric could see, beyond his personal quest for knowledge. Asher would sass him every step of the way, refuse to follow orders, and bring the entire House to its knees before he allowed Cowen Frost to dictate terms to him.
Ha! I’m half-tempted to push the old man into doing it, just to watch him go down in flames…
Even as he thought it, he knew it was a lie. Aleric wanted more than anything to continue the line of Frosts, to carve out his place in history.
And hopefully, someday…to make his father proud.
9
Master Laurren
By now word about the new Master of Abnormal Magic had traveled throughout the school, so that when Asher sat down at breakfast and began looking for the man in the dining hall, he wasn’t the only one. He’d been pondering on what Master Kilgore had said to him about the guy, and in truth, Asher thought there was a lot to be learned about such an obscure branch of magic—highly specialized things that would give him an edge over other mages.
He should be easy to spot with the Mastery robes on…
Abnormal Magic being one of the minor arcana, this Master Laurren should be one of five people wearing metallic green robes. Three of the Masters of the major arcana were already at breakfast, their metallic red robes drawing the eye like a beacon. There were still only four people wearing green robes though, and all of them were already sitting down amongst students.
Maybe he’s not one for being social.
That would fit the whole ‘Abnormal Magic’ persona, but it was still annoying. Asher wanted to get a look at the guy before deciding whether or not it was worth his time to petition for entry into the class, though his interest had become more palpable once he learned that acceptance into the class was not guaranteed. If that was true, it would be the first class to not automatically accept applicants who expressed an interest. Asher always had enjoyed a challenge…
His eyes still on the door, he noticed the moment that Aleric entered the dining hall, even before his friend saw him. Aleric’s eyes scanned the room briefly, settled on Asher, and for a fraction of a second it almost looked like he frowned before walking over to join him at the table. Asher dismissed it as a trick of the lighting, because he hadn’t done anything recently to annoy his best friend.
“Morning,” he greeted Aleric as the latter sat down across from him.
“If you say so,” his friend yawned, looking tired.
Come to think of it, I did hear him tossing and turning a lot last night.
“You’re early to breakfast this morning,” Aleric eyed him suspiciously. “And you never showed up for Prisms yesterday. Something going on that I should know about?”
Asher shrugged and said, “Not really. I was late to class yesterday because Kilgore kept me after to talk about something, and I came to breakfast early in the hope of getting a good look at the new Master, though he hasn’t seen fit to grace us with his presence yet.”
He didn’t mention the duel with Master Willow in one of the challenge arenas, because that was the sort of thing that would incite jealousy in his friend.
“Don’t tell me you’re thinking of starting an entry-level class in your sixth year of school?” Aleric grimaced at the thought.
“Yes, but it’s such a potentially interesting and useful subject, it might be worth it,” he argued.
“Perhaps, though the thought of being thrown into a class of second-year students and treated like a child is not one I relish.”
Asher shrugged.
“I don’t really care who else is in the class with me; if they’re all eleven years old, so be it. That just means it’ll be easy for me to break the curve on exams. Besides, it’s invitation-only, so there’s a chance that level-twos won’t even be qualified to enroll, depending on how strict this guy is.”
“That is mildly more interesting, though not enough to start over in a brand new subject at this late date,” Aleric conceded. “What’s the new Master’s name, again?”
“Laurren, according to Kilgore. Why, do you know something about him from your mother’s extensive training on all mages in the Nine Lands?” he asked with interest.
Aleric shook his head and said, “Nope, never heard of him. He can’t be all that noteworthy or Mother would have surely told me about him. Probably a hack who couldn’t do anything with his actual major and had to settle for this.”
Asher kept his thoughts on the matter to himself, out of respect for their friendship, though he privately believed that Adorina Frost’s definition of ‘noteworthy’ was heavily colored by how much money or important bloodlines one had. He’d also had it from Kilgore that they wouldn’t fill the post unless they thought the person was truly qualified for the job, but there was no point in telling Aleric, who already had his mind made up on the matter.
“That must be him,” Aleric observed, looking over Asher’s shoulder at the threshold of the dining hall.
Asher turned his head rapidly and got his first good look at the new Master of Abnormal Magic. First impressions were more important than most people believed, and the first thought that entered his head upon seeing Master Laurren was that they could not have picked a better candidate for the job.
“Whoa…” he said out loud, as the general volume in the room increased due to more and more people catching sight of the new Master, who was officially starting work today.
“What in the name of the arcana happened to his eyes?” Aleric asked quietly.
Asher only shook his head, because he truly had no idea what could happen to a person to make their eyes turn such a weird shade of purple-blue, unless he had done it cosmetically to make himself seem more mystical. If so, it was working, because the effect against his pale skin and dark hair was quite striking. He walked into the room as though unaware of all the people staring and whispering about him, glancing around for a likely-looking table to sit at. He carried himself with such casual assurance that it only heightened the otherworldly aura about him.
“He’s young,” Aleric observed as Laurren passed them and joined a group of fourth-years before Asher could suggest they make room for him at their table. “Probably only thirty if I had to guess; unusual for the Masters to nominate someone so young to such a high post.”
“We should have asked him to join us for breakfast,” Asher lamented the lost opportunity.
Aleric looked at him like he was crazy and said, “Why do you immediately want to invite the newest—and strangest—mage in school to sit with us, not two minutes after laying eyes on him?”
“I love strange things,” he answered truthfully, causing his friend to laugh out loud. “Seriously, I do—how can you not? It’s the unexpected, weird things around here that keep this place from becoming seriously dull.”
Aleric sighed and said, “You’re ridiculous. I take it that you’re going to apply to his class?”
“Not necessarily,” Asher countered. “Just because he looks like the real deal doesn’t mean that he is. I still need to figure out if he’s worth my time before committing myself to an entirely new subject.”
“Good, then you haven’t entirely lost your mind yet.”
Changing the subject, Asher asked, “How were thin
gs last night? It’s the end of the month, so you must have done the accounting by now with your father.”
He regretted asking almost immediately, as his friend’s features darkened and he momentarily looked like he was angry at him.
“Worse than usual,” Aleric responded after a moment of uncomfortable silence.
Well, in for an ounce, in for a gallon…
“Oh? I assume you told him about giving up your Prisms project then?” he guessed.
“That certainly didn’t help things, though he was surprisingly supportive of me dropping that particular topic.” For a moment it looked like Aleric was tempted to ask how he was coming along on his research, but then he decided against it.
That’s good, because I don’t know how I would answer the question if he asked it…
“Oh yeah? Well that’s good…”
“Mostly. He still demanded that I immediately pick a new research topic so people don’t think I’ve been driven out of my major of study because I want to throw a tantrum.” Aleric scowled. “And this time he wants it to be a ‘good one.’ ”
Asher suppressed a grimace and avoided pointing out that he had just, in effect, also insulted him by implying that he wasn’t working on something useful.
“Ah, well…I don’t suppose you’ve had any luck with that yet?” he asked instead.
“No, though I spent half the night lying awake trying to think of something he would be impressed with that seemed even remotely feasible. I’ll have to come up with something soon though, or my face will look like minced meat the next time I come back from a trip home.”
Asher winced sympathetically on his friend’s behalf. No one who knew the truth of Aleric’s home life could ever be jealous of his lofty position, or if they were, then they were crazy.
I’d take my own sarcastic, annoying father any day over Cowen Frost.
