The Apprentice's Path: The Alchemist #1

by Stacey Keystone

  As the two men observed their now common apprentice leave, huffing and puffing, Major Craen turned towards Professor Bedwen.

  "What an obedient apprentice you have here," he said.

  "Oh, she'll make me pay later," Professor Bedwen replied. "And don't expect she'll listen to you like that. You'll have to earn it."

  He hailed a cab and gave the cabbie his home address.

  "Shall we?" he invited the other man.

  Major Craen nodded and boarded the cab. The two men said nothing during the entire trip, staring at each other intently.

  In the house, the housekeeper looked at the dark mage with surprise, and offered to bring sandwiches. They went to the office, where the professor activated the privacy artifact.

  "Nice setup," observed Major Bedwen. "Although I've heard you're moving."

  "Of course you've heard it," said the older man, amused. "Have you also heard Miss Bedwen will also move in with me?"

  "Will she? Well, that is wise. It's a very traditional arrangement, but living in the same house makes teaching easier," Major Craen said.

  "It does. It also allows for more safety measures."

  "Your new house has excellent training facilities. I'll be able to safely train Miss Bedwen in most of the things she'll need to learn there. If you grant me access, that is."

  "I can't deny you access, apparently. If Miss Bedwen is to receive proper magical training, she'll need access to her second master, too. But I need to know you're serious about this," there were protective notes in Professor Bedwen's voice now. "Because the apprenticeship will last three years, and if your interest in Miss Bedwen will be gone as soon as you're done with whatever plans you had for her, her education will be affected. So I need to know, will you stay after you're done?"

  "I'm a man of my word, Professor. If I take the responsibility to educate a youngster, I will do it, and I'll do my best. And I'm not trying to get something from Miss Bedwen. She's a mage with great potential; that's why I want to teach her."

  "Her magical level is not very high. Miss Bedwen is a very promising alchemist, but her magical skills are not that great," Professor Bedwen said, raising his eyebrows skeptically at the last sentence. "I have no doubt she'll achieve exceptional things in combining alchemy with magic, but magically, she is rather mediocre."

  "You can fool the tribunal," Major Craen said, staring the other man into the eyes, "but you can't fool me. Miss Bedwen is not mediocre in magic. The lab she destroyed was magically protected; there was even a safe there, which was destroyed, leaving nothing. A weak magician would not have been able to do that, even with all her magic. You must have drained her during training."

  The Professor didn't so much as blink, not acknowledging what the other man said.

  "Why didn't you share it with the tribunal, then? You could have had Miss Bedwen blocked. You thought Miss Bedwen deserves whatever punishment she'd get."

  "I did," the Major said, "when I still thought Miss Bedwen was involved with Captain Greggs' death. But now that I know she isn't, I can't let a bunch of old light farts destroy a promising mages' future."

  "Oh, don't come to me with solidarity blabber. You've got some other reason, and I need to know what it is."

  "You don't," the Major gave up his attempt to convince the Professor on the scenario he had prepared in advance and decided an open confrontation was better. This man was sharp, and it wouldn't be possible to lie to him. That is, not lie to him convincingly. So he lied, in this I know you know I'm not saying the truth, and I don't care, manner. "I have reasons to believe Miss Bedwen may become the greatest mage of her generation. Being the Master of such an advantaged mage is of great use to my reputation."

  "I see," Professor Bedwen raised his eyebrows, accepting the double meaning. "So if you thought Miss Bedwen has a much higher level of magic, why didn't you try to show our supposed manipulation?"

  "Because I wouldn't be able to prove it anyway," the Captain said, "since magic levels can be truly unstable during the first year. It's hard to establish Miss Bedwen's actual strength, without a full-body scan. But that's not the reason Miss Bedwen has a chance of greatness."

  "Isn't it?" Professor Bedwen asked. He wasn't understanding what his now-colleague was referring to. Dana was his granddaughter, but he could see she wasn't exceptional in her magical talents. She wasn't very strong, nor did she seem to have any interest in developing her skills. She was an alchemist, and she always treated magic with a lack of interest that he usually found quite unsettling. It was just wrong how lowly this girl thought of magic.

  "You don't know, do you?" the Major asked. "That's good. It would be terrible if state secrets leaked just like this. I'll tell you what I've been authorized to tell, since it wouldn't be possible to conduct any experiments without your knowledge or approval."

  "Experiments? I certainly won't allow any experiment to be conducted on my apprentice," Professor Bedwen replied.

  "It's not as sinister as it sounds," Major Craen replied. "It's just that Miss Bedwen is the first person on record who has gone through an uncontrolled Initiation successfully."

  "That's not true," Professor Bedwen said. "Miss Bedwen went through a proper Initiation. As you can see from the documents," he was going to continue when he got interrupted.

  "Oh, those documents were fabricated very realistically," the Major said. "Miss Bedwen has a very talented young man as a boyfriend. For a policeman, he's suspiciously good at faking paper trails."

  "If Detective Taylor told you anything, you have to take everything he says with a grain of salt," Professor Bedwen replied. "He was angry at Miss Bedwen."

  "Over what?" asked the Major.

  "Over a lover's spat," Professor Bedwen replied. "Detective Taylor didn't take it very well, and he was disappointed at Miss Bedwen, escaping like that."

  "Oh, Detective Taylor told us nothing," the Major said, smiling now. "He refused to tell us anything. But it's not like we need to take you to criminal court. We know you falsified Miss Bedwen's Initiation records, and that she had a spontaneous one."

  "How long have you known?" Professor Bedwen asked, his eyes full of suspicion now.

  "Since the paper trail for the Initiation appeared. It looks legit, but we knew it didn't exist when Miss Bedwen used her magic because we checked."

  "Maybe the clerk made an error, and it got lost somewhere," Professor Bedwen explained.

  "Of course that's what you'd say. And, since I'm not trying to prosecute Miss Bedwen, I will not push it further."

  Professor Bedwen looked like he had been hit by the idea.

  "That's why you were pushing so hard, right? You accused her of killing the Captain, when you knew she didn't, to get her to confess on the illegitimate use of magic. And once you had her under your control, you could get her to sign up for any experiments. But then that didn't fly, and you realized there was another way to have a magical apprentice under your complete control. Become her master."

  "I wouldn't pursue a false lead just to corner your student, Professor," the Major said. "We could have her on illegal Initiation from the beginning."

  "But you couldn't, couldn't you? Because the Bureau of Magic is such a mess, nobody can prove anything. They've got a millennium of practice, after all. Nobody can get answers from the Bureau if the Bureau doesn't want to give them. And, when Captain Taylor helped us to submit the paperwork for Dana's Initiation, he made sure all the is were dotted and the ts crossed."

  "And all the palms greased," the Major murmured under his breath.

  "You were saying something?" the Professor asked, happy to have the upper hand. "Are you accusing a police officer of bribing a member of the Bureau?"

  "Of course not," the Major replied.

  "I see what your plan is now," the Professor said. "And let me tell you, Major. I won't let you experiment on my apprentice. She's my responsibility, and I'll make sure she gets the proper education she needs."

  "But we haven't finished ou
r conversation," the Major said.

  "Leave. Now," the Professor said, putting his hand on an artifact on his table. "Please."

  The Major quivered. A powerful, experienced light mage, who had somehow gotten away scot-free from legal prosecution, could destroy his mind in a matter of minutes. Sure, he could fight him back, but, being on the enemy's territory, a win was far from guaranteed. So he gave ground, not in fear, but in respect.

  "We're not finished, Professor," he said. "I'll be back, and we'll finish this conversation."

  "Of course," the Professor replied. He then unblocked the room, unlocking the door and removing the soundproofing. The housekeeper came in with a tray of sandwiches. "How forgetful of me," the Professor noted. "I invited you to eat. Would you like to grab a sandwich to go?"

  "No, thank you," the Major replied. "I'll be going now."

  "Great. Bettie, please help my guest to the door," the Professor said.

  And the Major left, leaving a less calm, and more worried grandfather in the office. He locked the door after his guest and slumped into his chair. How was he going to help Dana now?

  38

  Grandpa ordered me to go to class. Ordered me. He thinks he can just push me around, now that he's my grandpa and my master? Ha! Let's see how he orders me if I avoid him. Even a direct order, I could always misinterpret. He would now see the limits of my stupidity.

  Apprentices are supposed to obey their masters. And masters have a lot of power over their future. Heads of family also command respect and obedience in Caerland; grandpa was both. But he forgot that some of the powers and responsibilities he had nullified each other. And he can't do to me what he could do to an ordinary apprentice. Let's see what he tries to do. He said he's my better, right? Let him prove it!

  Resolved in my decision to teach my master a lesson, I went to class. Blind obedience can also be a weapon against a stupid order.

  In class, for the rest of the day, my classmates gave me a wide berth. I noticed the curious stares (I had disappeared for half the day again, after all), but I steadfastly ignored all of them. I wasn't in the mood for it. For any of it. Especially now that grandpa was ordering me -- me! To stay away from decisions critical to my life. Life-altering decisions. I was getting a second master, somebody I could not manipulate with family affection, somebody who could use his power over me unwisely... And grandpa was excluding me from this.

  I wonder what they're discussing. By the looks of it, grandpa wasn't too happy about his co-master (is that even a word?), either. But, whether or not he was happy, this was a decision affecting my life, dammit. It wasn't his life that was on the balance; he'd already lived his, and, judging by what I've seen, flushed it down the toilet. He was rich, sure; but, as I see it, money is but a tool. A tool that should be used to protect yourself and your family; if you can't use it properly, it's as useless.

  Dark arall value strength above all else. But strength and status come from your ability to use them, to leverage them for yourself. Somebody strong who lets others take advantage of him will always be seen with contempt and pity. I couldn't and didn't respect grandpa. He had avenged his family, I grant him that, and he was useful. But for him to serve our family, we needed an understanding.

  He couldn't order me, not without consulting me.

  When all my classes were done, I went to Jack's home to ask him for some advice. He was good at understanding people; I think he understood grandpa better than I did. He could tell me something useful.

  "So, what should I do now?" I asked Jack, as we were drinking the beer I bought on the way home, after eating the gammon with potatoes I'd baked in the cast iron cooking pot over his stove.

  He'd listened to my entire story, as I raged and gesticulated while eating dinner. Now, I was feeling calmer, and I was leaning on his shoulder.

  He took a sip and stood up, turning to look into my face.

  "Are you feeling better now?" he asked, looking at me intently.

  "A little. Why?" I asked with suspicion.

  "Because you will not like what I have to say," he replied.

  I slumped in the chair, bracing myself. If Jack said I would not like it, it was going to be something really harsh. He never pulled his punches, and the gentle way he tried to approach it, in contrast with his usual bluntness, meant he would say something I wouldn't like.

  "I think you should go talk to your grandpa and listen to what he has to say."

  Like something reasonable I didn't want to hear.

  "What? Have you heard what I've told you? He ordered me -- ordered me! To stay away while he was discussing my life. Just because he's my master, he doesn't get to..."

  "I've heard you," Jack replied. "But you forget trust should go both ways. You don't seem to trust him, but why should he trust you? You have so far only created problems, while other people have solved them for you. He has good reason to think he shouldn't let you take part in the discussion and handle everything on his own. You need to show him he's wrong, by being more mature than your instincts tell you to. Go to him. Talk, explain your views, and listen. Listen to his explanation, and then, if you still think he's unreasonable, you do whatever you want to punish him."

  "But... But..." I stammered, trying to verbalize my opinion. Jack wasn't wrong, per se, but I didn't agree with him, either. "He shouldn't do this. He may be my master, but..."

  "He's responsible for you," Jack said. "And he lost a daughter and a son before; he doesn't want to lose a granddaughter, now. Even by her impulsiveness. He'll try to manage your life, and he will order you around, for what he sees as your own good. Don't fight him; show him how open communication is a much more effective strategy with you. Be reasonable when he gives you good arguments. Don't let your pride take over."

  Jack was saying reasonable things. The way his calm, steady voice went through my head, his hand massaging my neck, reminded me of how I had calmed grandpa when he was out of control.

  "You're doing it now," I accused Jack. "You're using your training on me," I said, pulling away. "You promised me you wouldn't do it again."

  Jack looked at his hand, at me, and sighed.

  "I'm sorry, Dana. But you were so anxious, so full of energy, that I felt like I had to calm you down. And that's when my training kicked in. It's not something I can always control; it's quite a formed habit. You just need to remind me when you find it unpleasant."

  "That's the issue," I said. "It's pleasant. But I don't like being like a small kitten, having my feelings dictated by my baser instincts. And you calming me this way is pleasant. So much so, I don't always realize it when you're doing it."

  "Should I continue, then?" Jack asked." Now that you realize what I'm doing."

  I thought about it. Jack using his training on me and catching me unaware was bad; him doing it with my permission? It felt good to be massaged.

  "Sure," I said, going back to his embrace. "But don't talk."

  As long as he said nothing, I could avoid him influencing me while I was softened up. And it felt good to let my mind relax into that thoughtless, mindless state of bliss his hands put me in.

  It took me a couple of days, with Jack massaging me every evening before I was ready to confront grandpa. When I was, I went before dinnertime, but after work hours.

  Bettie let me in, like she always did, without comments. I could see the house was almost bare, with most of the furniture gone. Right. Grandpa was going to move, right? To this new house. With me. And, despite my promise to mother, I had completely forgotten about it.

  "So, when are you moving to the new house?" I asked Bettie, as I was going towards grandpa's office.

  "When you bring your things there," Bettie replied. "Billie is already there."

  I nodded, absorbing the new information, and knocked on grandpa's door, entering.

  "Hello, Gramps," I saluted him, sitting in the chair in front of him. "We need to talk."

  Grandpa, who had looked up from the documents he was reading when I
came in, stared at me, with a slightly puzzled look.

  "Dana!" he said, with surprise in his face. "I didn't expect you to come! I thought you'd be avoiding me, angry at me for..."

  "Ignoring me? Ordering me around?" I interrupted him. "That would be what you'd deserve, I guess, but I should be the more mature one."

  And being the mature one wasn't going well. Oh well, at least I'm trying.

  "I'm glad you're making the effort," grandpa said with a calculating look. "Did Detective Taylor put you up to this? My opinion of him is rising every day. Such a thoughtful man."

  "I have my brain, too, you know," I told him. Why did people assume that every good idea I had was due to the men in my life? I may be impulsive, but I have my moments, too.

  "Sure you do," grandpa said. "But I've learned a few things about your beau in the last few days that cast him in a different light."

  "You did?" I asked. It would make sense for grandpa to run a background check on Jack. Jack wasn't the only one with the capabilities. And I considered anything they found on each other fair game. They knew everything about me by now.

  "Yes," he said, leaning in and crossing his fingers. "Detective Taylor seems to have a lot of acquaintances in the Bureau of Magic; he did a very thorough job in covering up your Initiation. When I looked it up, I couldn't find anything incriminating, either, despite knowing the truth."

  "So?" I asked, relieved. Knowing that my illegal Initiation would not hang over my head for the rest of my life was quite liberating. Jack's talents were crucial in this.

  "Well, it's interesting that a cop has bureaucratic skills this good. But that's a conversation for another day. I suppose you want to know why I asked you to leave."

  "Yes," I replied. "I don't want to be excluded from decisions about my life. And you should not try to do it, either. Remember: that's how you lost mother."

  "I remember all my mistakes," grandpa said. "And I will not try to dictate your entire life. It didn't work then, it won't work now."

  "But you still went to talk with Major Craen alone," I countered.