Why shouldn’t I return with Callum and deliver my message in person? I knew Master Hapthwaite would take me back. If there was anything the man was, it was pliable, and if there was anyone who could talk him into anything, it was me.
I left the letter on the desk.
Ivan was coming out of his room just as I was, still in his sleep clothes and rubbing his eyes.
“Not this again. You must dress first,” Peck said behind him, his voice impatient. This conversation had happened before. “Come, put on your clothes before you leave.” He grabbed Ivan by the collar and hauled him back into the room.
I couldn’t just leave Ivan here. Once Master Hapthwaite took me back, Ivan would be at the mercy of the tyrants in this household. I couldn’t think what Master Wendyn wanted with the boy, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.
I stepped into the room. “You there. You’re dismissed.” I jerked my head at the door and held the man’s gaze. He looked me over before he shrugged and left the room, muttering.
When he was gone, I closed the door and grabbed the clothes laid out for Ivan on the bed. “Here. Put these on. I’ll wait.”
I stood facing the door with my back to Ivan. There was no sound. I dared a look over my shoulder. Ivan was standing there, staring down at the clothes in his hands, as though mystified how they got there.
Sounds of exasperation escaped my throat. “I’m in a hurry, all right? I’m about to leave for good. If you want to come with me, get dressed. Otherwise you can stay here. By yourself. And be bullied and pushed around for the rest of your life.” I turned back to the door.
The faint rustle of clothing brought a smile to my lips. While I waited for him to dress, I pondered the possibility that Ivan was smarter than everyone seemed to believe. If he could dress himself, and if he could hear, then what else was he capable of?
An elbow bumped mine. Ivan was by my side. His tunic was laced unevenly, leaving gaps to the milky white skin of his chest beneath. My fingers twitched of their own accord, that was how badly I wanted to fix it, but I stopped myself.
“Much better,” I told him. “Now, then, shall we go?”
***
Callum’s protests put me in mind of Master Hapthwaite and his fussy disposition. I smiled, listening to him gripe that Master never said to bring me back with him.
“But he never said not to either, did he?” I asked.
Callum tilted his head to the side in scrutiny of me. At long last he shrugged and said, “If you’re that determined, I don’t suppose I can stop you.”
It was that kind of ambivalence I was hoping would convince Master Hapthwaite to take me back.
I wasted time trying to convince Callum to take my trunk with us, but he stood firm on that point, saying he was sent to deliver the trunk and he always did as the master ordered. I was only trying to save him a trip later, but I gave up, as I could see it was an argument I wouldn’t win.
It took at least an hour to travel to Larkspur House. I didn’t engage Callum in conversation, and as speaking to Ivan was useless, it was a quiet ride. Instead, I planned out what I would say to Master Hapthwaite.
As we pulled up the familiar circular drive, relief settled over me. I was coming home. Excitement zinged through me, so much so that I launched myself over the side of the buggy the moment we stopped moving. Ivan followed a moment later and huddled into my side. I didn’t like this new familiarity, and I pushed him to arm’s length. “That far,” I said. “I want you at least that far away from me, understood?”
As usual, he didn’t respond. He trailed after me as I headed up the wide staircase to the entrance. At one of the upper floor windows, a face paused and looked down at us. I recognized Master Hapthwaite’s doughy face through the warped glass. He was too far away to read his expression, but seeing my master’s face again lent me confidence. I squared my shoulders, lifted my chin, and marched up the stairs.
Only when I was at the top did I realize I’d lost Ivan. I looked backward to discover he was running in the opposite direction. As I watched, he disappeared around the side of the house.
Coward. I needed to train him to stop doing that.
The housekeeper, with whom I’d always had a friendly acquaintance, smiled and showed me to a sitting room before going to fetch the master. I practiced my speech as I waited and wondered if Master would still allow me to sit for the mastery-over-fear trial in the spring, as he mentioned a week ago. I didn’t think we’d lost too much time yet.
“Underwizard Mullins.”
I looked up from my hands, which I’d been staring at in extreme concentration, and rose. Hapthwaite stood before me, his expression curious, perhaps even concerned. His dark hair, shot through here and there with gray, curled against his forehead.
“Master Hapthwaite.” I dropped into a bow.
“What are you doing here?” Surprise filled his tone, but nothing much beyond that—no anger or animosity at my presence. That was good, I suppose. Although I’d hoped for some emotional reaction, some sign he felt a connection toward me.
I rose from my bow. “I asked Callum to bring me back with him. I was hoping to have a word with you.”
“About?” He tilted his head, and the pudgy, loose skin around his jowls wobbled. He seated his portly self across from me. “If you’re having a problem, you should discuss it with your new master. Wendyn, is it?”
“That man is not my new master. He never wanted me. He only—took me in briefly.”
His eyebrows shot up. “He never wanted you? So he’s still waffling, is he? How like him.”
I forged ahead. “My behavior in Bramford was wrong. I’m more sorry than I can say that I disgraced you. I’m here to ask you to take me back.”
His expression didn’t change. “I can’t help you.”
I forged ahead. “Please, just listen. Five minutes of your time.”
He shook his head. “You’ve disgraced me once already. I should think that was more than enough.”
“I was showing kindness to a—a fool,” I explained, because once he understood how it all happened, I knew he would forgive me. “Honor in all things, remember? It is the most important.” I was repeating back to him words he said himself dozens of times, part of the apprentice oath.
With a shake of his head and a deep sigh, he said, “Don’t throw that phrase in my face as though its meaning escapes me, Mullins. I am the master wizard here. I knew the meaning of honor in all things before you were a babe in your mother’s arms. And what it does not mean is assaulting a young boy and brawling in the streets like a common scoundrel.”
“You’re right,” I said, trying to look more humble. “It wasn’t honorable. It was weak and shameful.”
He leaned forward to pat me on the knee. “Which is why there’s nothing I can do for you. Run along to...wherever you’re going.”
“But I’ve come so far with your help. You know how much I’ve learned. Look, I’m getting better at holding fire.” I held my hand out and summoned the magic. It sparked and tickled along my palm, a fire almost catching but not quite.
Bones. I’d hoped to make a better showing than that.
“Ah, Mullins. This is why. Your fire is barely passable. It’s a first level underwizard’s trick, and you, a level five novitiate, cannot manage it. I thought you were just a slow learner, but it’s more than that. You’re not cut out to be a master wizard, boy.”
I was stung. He’d never been so blunt with me. “But...I passed the trials. Isn’t that what matters?”
“You passed the trials,” he agreed. “It’s the only reason I kept you on. But you only passed by a narrow margin each time, and you’ve had to take each trial more than once. Even with those under your belt, you still have difficulty with the most basic of underwizard skills.”
Had he been skirting the truth all this time, afraid to hurt my pride?
“Look, take some advice, will you, Mullins?” he said, his voice kinder. “You’ve got the makings o
f a fair magician. You know, the amateur sort. Master wizardry isn’t for everyone, and there’s no shame in admitting that.”
An amateur magician? He thought I had the makings of a common street magician?
At last I found my voice. “You—you’re mistaken. I have what it takes. I'll work harder, I'll study more. Whatever you ask of me.” My voice sounded panicked to my ears.
He stood. “You don’t have the skill required. Your behavior in Bramford only confirms it. If you’re still determined to become a master wizard, I suggest you go to Wendyn and beg him to take you. You two deserve each other.”
The flaccid skin of his jaw wobbled as he turned his back. He was going. I needed to say something, to plead my case further. But the words were gone, my confidence pulled out from under me.
“I—no—wait,” I managed in a strangled voice. The door closed. I stared at it with bewilderment.
My eyes pulsed and burned and throbbed, but not a tear came out.
CHAPTER SIX
Somehow I ended up outside of Larkspur House. Ivan came back. We walked the road, in what direction I couldn’t say. There was a heavy feeling in my insides I didn’t want to put a name to.
I had been so certain that Master Hapthwaite would take me back. I knew the man better than he knew himself; of course he would take me back. That’s what I had been thinking. But perhaps I didn’t know him so well as I thought.
I tried to gather myself. What would be my next step? I always had a next step. I fingered the knotted rope in my pocket and tried to pull strength from it.
When that didn’t work, I pulled it from my pocket and practiced my customary unknotting spell on it, hoping the action would clear my brain and give me my next step. The rope unknotted, but still nothing came to me. I shoved it in my pocket and pulled Ivan after me. I was too befuddled to do anything but put one foot in front of the other and keep moving down the road away from the only place I had called home since my family fell apart.
Lost, that was the heavy feeling inside me. I was lost.
A carriage rattled past, and I had to haul Ivan out of the way to keep him from being run down. “Open your eyes,” I growled. “You could have been killed.”
He scratched the side of his head and stared at me.
“You’re a great coward, you know? You run off every time you’re scared of something. It’s humiliating. Make use of your backbone, why don’t you.”
We stood in the middle of the highway while I glared at him and he toed the ground. Light caught at the bruises on his face as he looked up at me, his expression almost frightened.
Shame filled me, and I gave a great sigh. “Never mind. I’m sorry.” I rubbed my eyes and wished I could cry and feel better. “Sorry. Come on; let’s keep going.” I walked on. When I turned to look, he was following.
I’d been too cocky. I was so sure that things would work out the way I wanted, just because I wanted it enough. And now I needed to do what I wanted Ivan to do: have courage. Step into the dark of a new path and hope the light found me.
The only options left were to find a new master or become a street magician. And I would only accept one of those two options.
I would go to Hampstone, to the Wizard’s Conclave. I could make inquiry there about master wizards seeking apprentices, as I had when I first sought a master. If I had to, I’d take work until I found a new master.
For the first time, I took stock of the direction we were headed. I smiled when I discovered we were going toward the dreadful village of Bramford. That wasn’t the part that pleased me, but the fact that we were already headed toward Hampstone was helpful.
More importantly, we were headed toward Ryker Hall. My trunk was still there, and while I didn’t mind losing some of its contents, there were other things inside I considered irreplaceable. Mama’s hairbrush, for one. My brother’s old tin mug, for another. We could collect our belongings and spend the night at the hall before continuing on to Hampstone in the morning.
“Come along, Ivan.” My smile deepened when his hand slid into the crook of my arm.
***
It was a long walk. I babbled to pass the time, which was unlike me. But then again, it had been a long time since I had someone by my side to talk to, so perhaps it was like me and I didn’t remember it.
The late afternoon sun had wilted me inside my robes like a steamed vegetable served up for supper by the time we turned down the lane to Ryker Hall. Ivan didn’t look much better.
A buggy stood in front of the house, meaning that one of the Masters Wendyn had company. I took Ivan around to the kitchen entrance, and we went up the back staircase to our rooms. I deposited Ivan in his bedroom, telling him to rest since we’d have another long day of walking ahead of us tomorrow. Before I went into my room, however, I paused at the voices drifting up the grand staircase. I drew closer out of curiosity.
“...explosion at the Conclave last week? It destroyed a portion of the basement wing.” It was a man’s voice speaking. He must be in the entrance hall below.
“...theories on causation?” That was Master Wendyn’s voice.
“It originated in an alchemy lab beneath the library. Somebody mixing things they oughtn’t, I suppose.”
“Imbecile.”
“Agreed,” said the stranger. “Oh, and in case you haven’t heard, there’s rumors the Council will soon take action on the low matriculation rate.”
“What sort of action?”
“The rumor is they may mandate able-bodied wizards to take on an apprentice every ten years. Faronna is at an all-time low for masters and apprentices.”
“I can’t imagine you with an apprentice, Matt. Please don’t teach the boy to fight.”
“Have a little faith in me. I haven’t fought in years. Besides, you know the rules. I can’t have an apprentice while I work for the Council. No time.”
I tiptoed closer to the banister to peek downward, filled with curiosity. Without meaning to, a noise of surprise escaped me as I looked down on the scene below. I knew this visitor. I’d seen him with some regularity at the trials. He was several years older than me and had a beautiful face. More than once he’d flashed his strong white teeth at me in a smile that made my knees go weak. And then I had to remind myself that I was a boy and things such as beautiful faces and handsome smiles didn’t affect me.
Master Wendyn looked up the staircase. “Oh, it’s you, boy. You may as well come down and meet Master Kurke.”
I descended the stairs, cursing my unfortunate luck. I didn’t want Master Wendyn’s handsome visitor to see me in my current hot and wilted, unkempt state. Until it occurred to me that seeming slovenly would only make me more boy-like. I squared my shoulders with resolve and marched the rest of the way down.
“This is the boy, Underwizard Mullins.” Master Wendyn shifted a sheaf of papers under one arm to gesture at me. “He’s had a—er—disagreement with his last master...which is why I’m considering taking him on as my apprentice,” he said, his tone all business.
Confused by the unexpected words, my feet forgot where they were on the steps and tangled in one another. Master Kurke swooped forward and righted me at the bottom of the stairs.
“I—thank—sorry—pardon me?” I said. Master Kurke’s arm rested around my waist, while his other hand steadied my elbow. I was tilted backward, gazing up into his celestial blue eyes, while my heart thumped and I went hot and cold. This was terrible. I might do something idiotic at any moment, such as swoon. Must he be so handsome?
He laughed, making his face soft and warm and inviting. “Look at you, Garrick, one step ahead of the Council. So that’s why you wanted the file. But didn’t you prepare the boy at all? You nearly knocked him off his feet.” He righted me and stepped away.
“Master Kurke is an old friend,” Wendyn said. “He works for the Wizard’s Council.”
The blue eyes smiled at me again. “Your face looks familiar. I’m sure I’ve seen you at the trials.”
“Yes. I believe I’ve seen you as well,” I said with perfect composure, though I was disappointed he didn’t remember the various—if fleeting—moments we’d had together. The time he grinned at me and said, “Best of luck, underwizard. I’m sure you’ll pass with ease,” for example. Or the time he patted me on the back as I left the fourth trial, exhausted, and told me I’d done all I could do; no use worrying anymore. The smile we exchanged across the great room as I waited for my turn at the fifth trial.
“Sounds as though you two have things to discuss. I’ll be off.” Master Kurke set a wide-brimmed hat on his head and doffed it at me. “Good luck in your training, underwizard. If you can convince Garrick to take you on, you won’t regret it.”
I smiled and nodded and bowed. Master Wendyn followed his friend a little down the main hallway, and they spoke in low voices. I breathed deep and regulated my pounding heart.
So Master Wendyn was now considering me as an apprentice, was he? After tossing me out on my ear?
A part of me wanted to turn my nose up at him and tell him I’d find someone else. But another part, the part where reason lay, told me that Wendyn was the only offer I had. The longer I waited, the more behind I would become in my studies, and the less likely it was I’d be able to find another master. Regardless of his temper, there was only one choice. I’d have to become his apprentice. And I should be grateful.
“Well,” said Master Wendyn, turning back once Kurke had left. “Don’t just stand there with that vacant expression on your face. Come into my study. You and I need to talk.”
***
The first thing Wendyn did, after seating himself in the ornate chair behind his desk and gesturing for me to sit across from him, was produce a piece of parchment which he waved in front of my face. After a questioning glance at him, I took hold of it and read. Magic crackled along the edges of the parchment. It was a new oath.
“I’ll be honest,” he said. “It galls me to take Hapthwaite’s castoffs. But the mere fact it’s him that’s cast you off should earn you a second chance. He couldn’t teach water to run downhill.”
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