"Hey," I whispered.
He opened his eyes, hugged me, and rolled over.
"Good morning to you too," he said.
"That was sneaky," I protested.
"You haven't seen me being sneaky yet," he said, sliding his hand into my robe and going under the camisole I put on.
I laughed.
"Well, let's see you being sneaky," I said. "But let me tell you, I can be pretty devious myself."
By the time we were out of bed, it was lunchtime, and I had to take another shower. This time, I took it with Jack, who assured me we had to save water.
We spent the entire weekend enjoying our free time in Jack's place. After some consideration, we went out for dinner, but that was mostly because none of us felt like cooking. By late Sunday afternoon, I remembered the promise to grandpa.
"I promised grandpa I'd drop by, and we'd talk about strategy for the magical tribunal. Do you want to come? You could play a bit with Billie while I talk shop with grandpa, and then we'd have dinner with them. You'll get to meet my family, crazy uncle and all."
"I've already met them," Jack pointed out.
"But you didn't know who they were to me then. You can meet them again, with this additional information. Re-evaluate."
"Do you want me to come?" Jack asked.
"Well," I said, carefully. "While I don't want to pressure you if you don't want to, he is my grandfather, and you're my boyfriend. You're both an important part of my life, and I'd like you to get along."
"It's not like we don't get along," Jack pointed out. "I don't dislike the man."
"The more reason for you to get to know him better," I said. "I'd like you to gauge him for yourself, without any prejudice."
"Alright," Jack said. "Let's go. If you're going to live with him, I'll probably have many dinners with them, anyway. I don't see why you can't stay with me, though."
"Because I promised mother," I said, going over the same arguments we'd discussed many times before, when I wasn't too tired to talk. "And because grandpa's right; you can't defend yourself against a magical attack. At least against anything that can't be handled with an artifact."
"Does Professor Bedwen think there's an active risk of a magical attack?" Jack asked.
"I'm not sure what he thinks," I replied, as I dressed. "But I don't want to risk anything happening to you. I know you're used to risking your life, but this is not your duty."
"Protecting civilians is my duty," Jack protested.
"And if I need the protection of the police, I'll come to you," I said, buttoning up my shirt. Jack was also almost completely dressed. "We've talked about this. I don't need you to be my knight in shining armor; I just need you to be there for me."
"But I'd like to help you," Jack said. "I know you're a big girl, and that you're as strong as me, but I'm still a traditional man. I'm not modern enough to let my woman deal with problems on her own."
"And I will not let my man risk his life for mine," I cut him off. "And what's with the machismo, anyway? I thought they coached you on how to deal with women like me. Why would you ever say that?"
"You wanted me to stop managing you, to be my real self. And this is who I am," Jack responded. "I will not stand aside to let you fight alone. I want to have your back."
"But I don't know when I'll have to fight. If I knew when they would attack me, I could prep for it; in this case, though, it's unlikely I'll be able to do anything. There probably won't be time to call you," I said, as I put my jacket on, now fully dressed. "Let's go out. Grandpa's probably wondering where I was."
35
When I came to grandpa's house, he was the one who opened the door, for a change.
"Good afternoon, Miss Bedwen. You remembered to come by. I see you brought your beau?" he said, raising his eyebrows when he saw Jack.
"Good afternoon, Gramps. You can cut the formality, Jack knows," I replied.
"I see," he replied, squinting. He turned towards Jack. "So, Detective Taylor, it seems my granddaughter told you everything. I'm not sure what she sees in you, you being a government agent, but I hope you don't disappoint her. Or I'll deal with you personally."
"I would never betray Dana's trust again, Professor Bedwen," Jack replied.
"I certainly hope so," grandpa said, standing close to Jack. Now that they were this close, I noticed grandpa was taller than Jack. I never noticed how tall grandpa was since he always seemed so harmless.
They stared at each other for way too long, and I cut off whatever that was.
"Gramps," I said, pulling him by his sleeve. "I came to discuss our legal strategy, remember? Jack, you should go play with Billie. Or go to the library; there are plenty of books there. I'll call you when we're done."
"Certainly," Jack said. "I'll go meet your uncle. If that's OK with your grandpa."
"You can go play with my son, Detective Taylor," grandpa answered. Then he briskly walked towards his office, as I followed him silently. He didn't start talking again until he activated the secrecy artifact.
"So you told your beau our family secrets? I thought we would be more careful, Dana. I have told none of my friends."
"Jack is more than a friend to me," I replied. "He's my boyfriend. He's not family, but close. I'd rather trust him and be disappointed than stay alone forever. What's the worst that could happen, anyway? It's not like we could keep this secret for that much longer. You should tell your close friends, if you trust them, too."
"You should be more careful about whom you trust, Dana. Even family can betray you."
"Well, I will keep trusting people," I replied. "I will not change my life just because you have been disappointed by people before."
"I guess there's no point in discussing the matter further," grandpa said. "I believed the same thing when I was young. You'll find on your own."
"Or maybe I won't end up alone like you," I replied.
Grandpa winced. My attack had been too personal.
"I'm sorry," I said. "It's just..."
"That you don't want to end up like me," grandpa smirked. "Ending up with only a sick son and a daughter who disowned me wasn't my goal, either. But at least she's not dead."
There wasn't anything much I could say that wouldn't make the matter worse. So, for the first time ever, I hugged him. He stiffened, and didn't reciprocate, but didn't release my embrace, either.
"Mother will forgive you," I told him. "Eventually. She may be angry at you, but, if she sees how much you love Billie, how well you take care of him, and get close with Sam, Billie, and Mikey, she'll come around. Even father is on your side."
Grandpa stood there, in my embrace, without responding, for a while. Eventually, he tapped my shoulder, and I released my embrace. It was awkward.
"That's nice of you," he replied, his voice cold again. "But that won't happen if I don't get you out of trouble. She seems to blame me for that, so we need to solve your problems."
"She is vengeful," I acknowledged, sitting on the chair. It was so uncomfortable to discuss the moment. Going back to our businesslike relationship was easier. "So what is the legal strategy you intend to use? I have no idea how any of the magic things work."
"Well, as your master, I'm responsible for civil liability for your magical outbursts," grandpa said. "And there's no criminal liability for what you did, since the university accepted the settlement, and nobody was injured."
"That doesn't seem to be fair," I said. "I was the one who burnt the lab, after all."
"That's why masters have so many rights over their apprentices," grandpa replied. "Because we're responsible for everything they do. In the past, masters were even criminally liable for their apprentices' crimes. Masters also could just get rid of apprentices they considered too dangerous. The modern system is much more humane."
"Well, I'm glad you're my master," I replied. "And that you're on my side. But if it wasn't a crime, and you paid compensation, why is the tribunal convened at all?"
"Because t
hey need to figure out whether the accident was avoidable. Whether it was entirely predictable, and whether you're a danger to society."
"And how do they do that?" I asked.
"By questioning my teaching methods. Should I have kept you at home? Were you ready to go outside after your Initiation? That kind of question. So here is what you need to say..."
We spent the rest of the time before dinner preparing for the questioning. Even trying to be as vague as possible, it seemed like I would have to lie through my teeth.
"Won't they be able to detect lies?" I asked. "Some of them are empaths, after all."
"For common people, sure," grandpa replied. "And for stable mages, maybe, if they're weak enough. But a young unstable dark mage? Any empath that tries to get a read on you would have to be crazy. Your emotional emanations alone give me a headache if I don't block them."
"I'm sorry," I replied.
"Oh, don't worry. I know how to block them. We'll need to teach you how not to emanate your feelings, but for the moment, this is the best protection you have."
After dinner, during which Jack and grandpa stayed formal with each other, I stayed at Jack's place. The entire week before the magical tribunal date, I spent most of the time outside classes with grandpa, preparing my defense. Mister Hurst was not there.
"Magical law is different; we have no lawyers," grandpa explained. "Each master needs to learn the rules on their own. But we don't have that many written explicit rules, anyway. It mostly depends on the reputation of a master. Those old geezers know who I am. I know quite a few things about them, too."
"Wait," I said. "So you know all the members of the jury? You even have dirt on them? Shouldn't it be an unbiased jury?"
"They're all light mages who have at least a magister's title. How many such mages do you think there are in the Ashford area?" grandpa asked.
"Quite a few? Considering this is a university town? Shouldn't all the professors at the university be magisters?"
"Not all professors are magisters of magic. You need to contribute substantially to the field, and not everybody can do that. And none of the members of the tribunal belong to the university; that would be a conflict of interest, you see," grandpa replied.
"It seems like anybody would have a conflict of interest with you," I said. "It seems like the magical community is even more incestuous than it seemed to me at first."
"Incestuous? That's actually quite an accurate term," grandpa said, with a weird gleam in his eyes.
"Don't tell me some of them are related to you!" I said.
"One of them is my second cousin once removed," grandpa admitted. "And I went to college with quite a few of them. There aren't that many light mages."
"How did they control an entire country, with so few mages?"
"The Inquisition had a lot of non-mages, Dana. It's just that everybody on top was a mage. And there were quite a few dark mages too."
"Of course there were," that my fellow dark arall showed absolutely no solidarity to their kind and only looked after their hide was no surprise to me. "Somebody had to do the actual fighting."
Grandpa gave me another weird look but said nothing this time.
On Monday, Grandpa took me to a training site. It was empty, which was unusual for a Sunday.
"There is something else you'll need to do before the hearing," he said.
"What?" I asked.
"You must drain your magic," he said. "I know you've barely started recovering, but you need to lower the level of your magic, again."
"But..." I said, remembering how miserable I felt while my magic levels were low. "It was bad enough last time. If I come looking all pale again, won't they notice something's off?"
"You shouldn't drain your magic that much," grandpa said. "Just enough to go down to level one. It should not affect your health that much."
"And how do I do that?" I asked. "I still haven't learned to use the magic. At all. The only thing I've done so far was the stupid control exercise you made me do."
"That's because you need to learn the basics first," grandpa said, as we re-hashed the same conversation for the hundredth time. "As for draining, do it as you did it last time. Create a fireball."
"Last time, I created a huge magical fire," I told him. "And you can't counteract my magic."
"Well, you shouldn't make a big one. Just make many small ones and throw them at the target. Nothing will be damaged that way; that's what this room is for," grandpa said. "It's almost indestructible. It's so full of absorbing artifacts, it should absorb all your magic with minor damage. So go ahead; I'll be right there, observing," he said, pointing at the bench outside the big circle drawn on the floor.
I sat there, trying to remember what I did that time. The pain and the shadow of death I felt that time made me avoid the experience. But it seems I had no choice; I would have to do this, to save myself from getting my magic blocked. They say that it's even worse than having it drained, forever; the feeling that your life energy is there, at the touch of the hand, makes it much worse and depressing.
I collected the diffuse magic, concentrating it, like on the control exercises grandpa made me do. But this time, I had to push it out, through my arms, towards my hands, and to the surface, forming magical fire.
"That's enough, Dana," grandpa said. "Throw it away and make the next one."
I opened my eyes. The fireball I had in my hands was the size of my fist. I quickly threw it towards the target; it made a huge, cracking sound, as it absorbed it.
"What was that?" I asked grandpa.
Grandpa, who was just outside the perimeter, also heard the noise.
"The targets make that noise to show high degrees of damage," he said, "if this was an actual fight."
"Can it survive many more attacks?" I asked.
The target, a body-sized bag of sand with a small crystal artifact on top, wasn't looking very good. It had been partly burned, and the crystal was looking milky.
"It should," grandpa said. "Go ahead, there are others in the storage room. I will pay fully for everything you destroy, so do your worst."
I did, throwing four more. The target burned down in magical fire when the last one touched it; the artifact must have exhausted itself.
"And what now?" I asked grandpa, looking at the thin layer of dust on the floor, where the target had previously been.
"Well, now you swipe the remains, and we bring a fresh one," grandpa said.
As we did that, I felt a bit out of breath. Using my magic had weakened me as if I had physically exerted myself.
"How much more do I have to do this?" I asked grandpa. "Because I'm feeling pretty tired. And hungry."
"Wait a second," grandpa said, "I'll check."
He started making the same gestures he made when scanning me before.
"You're still a bit too strong," grandpa said. "But it's not good to drain all your magic at once. We'll come tomorrow again. Let's go eat now; you'll need the nutrients."
We spent the entire week doing so. Every day I came home, weaker and weaker every evening, Jack helped me shower and put on a camisole, helping me go to sleep. I didn't have the energy for anything else.
On the day of the tribunal hearing, Jack accompanied me to the court building after breakfast. They used the ordinary court for magical ones, too, since it mostly made little sense to have a separate building. There were few cases and fewer mages.
"I see your master is there," Jack said. He was still formal with grandpa, but he wasn't this formal in private anymore. He called grandpa "Mister Bedwen" now, rather than the more formal "Professor Bedwen".
He escorted me to grandpa, with my hand on his elbow. I must admit I was nervous about the hearing. I had never been in court, and this one was magical. Grandpa had drilled me thoroughly, and now I lied easily about the events surrounding my real Initiation. It's not like I had any moral qualms about lying. But despite grandpa's assurances that nobody in the room could read me magically, goi
ng to a room full of experienced mind-readers to lie to them was a bit intimidating. That's why, as much as possible, grandpa had couched me not to lie, but to be as oblique as possible with the truth. Still, lying was necessary to cover up my unlicensed Initiation.
When we reached grandpa, Jack released my arm and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
"I have to go to work now," he said. "They wouldn't give me a free day. But I'm sure Master Bedwen will take proper care of you. Master Bedwen," he gave grandpa a shallow bow, "I leave Dana in your care."
"Thank you, young man. Miss Bedwen, I hope you are ready," grandpa said.
"I am, sir. Master," I quickly corrected myself, looking around.
Nobody was close enough to overhear our conversation. But one of the people who was standing closer to the door of the court turned around and started coming towards us. It was Lieutenant Craen.
"What is he doing here, sir?" I asked grandpa, nodding towards him. "This is a magical matter. He has no authority or jurisdiction."
"Nothing good," Grandpa answered. "But he has the right to see the court proceedings. He'll probably try to ask questions during public objections."
"I thought you said usually nothing happens during public objections," I said.
"Yes, usually," Grandpa nodded. "Because most people don't know enough about magic to raise questions. But he knows magic. And he has an ax to grind, whatever his deal is."
The Lieutenant was now next to us.
"Professor Bedwen," he said, nodding towards grandpa; then, looking at me, "Miss Bedwen. I see you are early here."
"Not that early," I pointed out, my voice dripping in antipathy. "There are only ten minutes left. Traffic can be bad in Ashford; it's only reasonable to come ahead of time."
He nodded and then started chatting about the weather. I looked at grandpa, who faintly shrugged and kept the small talk in his signature coolly formal style.
36
When the hearing started, I was left outside, instructed to come in when grandpa's defense and testimony ended, and they called me. Sitting there, inactive, waiting, was nerve-wracking. Which is why I brought a book with me. A kids' book on magic, one of those grandpa insisted I read to fill in the gaps in my education. In his opinion, the university courses I had studied on magic taught me nothing in the more practical areas.
The Apprentice's Path: The Alchemist #1 Page 26
