Apprenticed to Pleasure

by Brandon Fox

  “How long ago?” Thane prompted.

  “Five or six minutes. I shouted as soon as I saw it. Sorel heard me and went to get you after I told him what happened.”

  “Six minutes,” Thane muttered. “He might still be alive.”

  “Who?” Ander asked.

  Thane stepped back from the pool, his body rigid. “The steam was shaped by a disturbance in the kei. From how Anna described it, they’re using torture to strengthen a spell.” His expression held tightly controlled fury. “The zamindar’s sorcerers use people as fuel. Burn their anima weaving spells and then throw away the remains. They get their strongest results when they torture to the point of death.” His pain-filled eyes burned into Ander’s. “There will be a disturbance in the kei if their victim is still alive. If I follow it fast enough, I can destroy the seeker spell before they find us.”

  He turned to Sorel and held out a hand. “Will you share your strength? The searchers are distant.”

  Sorel moved behind him and wrapped his arms around Thane’s torso as the mage extended his hands, palms down, over the pool. Everyone held still as they concentrated on the magic they were attempting. The anger on Thane’s face faded as he turned his mind to the discipline of the art. In a few seconds, his skin started to glow with a golden light as if some interior sun were being unshielded.

  The glow brightened, and steam lifting from the pool began to swirl. Soon it lashed like a living thing, menacing as an angry wraith. Thane’s chest heaved with the effort of reaching across vast distances with his mind. Then, in a blink, the vapor turned from milky white to blood red.

  A piercing scream made Ander cover his ears. But while grimaces on their faces showed that others heard the cry, none of them moved. He realized the sound was only in their minds.

  Nobody had noticed his mistake. All eyes were fixed on Thane. Mingled loathing and pity filled his face as he found what he had been seeking. He lifted his arms above his head. “Silence!” A pulse of golden light flared between his outstretched hands, and the mental shriek cut off. The vapors swept away as if a strong wind scoured the room.

  Sorel released the mage and stepped aside as Thane leaned over the granite pool. Everyone clustered around the rim. Nicolai beckoned for Ander to stand beside him.

  Clear water swirled over what appeared to be an infinitely deep black hole. The pool radiated the chill of a winter night, and ice crystals were forming around its edge. The blackness churned and coalesced into an image of a vaulted stone cellar.

  A girl on the opposite side of the pool gasped. “It’s the undercroft of the basilica at Fochelis.” Her face was ashen. “I was held there after the priests burned my parents for heresy. I know every stone.”

  Thane nodded, gazing intently at the wavering image. “The source of the disturbance is here. I can feel it. But what’s causing it?” He held a hand above the water, and in moments his palm glowed with reddish light. Another mental scream, muted this time, seemed to come from one side of the image. He moved his hand, and the view shifted to a side vault.

  Bile rose in Ander’s throat. The view offered by the pool revealed a horizontal iron grating suspended over hot coals, with a naked man manacled to it. His fingers and testicles had been crushed, and livid burns covered his body. His eyes were closed, and he looked near death. Ander turned away, sickened.

  Nicolai put an arm around his shoulder and whispered in his ear. “You must look. You have to understand what we’re fighting. And we have to learn all we can while we have the opportunity.” He squeezed gently. “We all share your feelings. But now is the time for strength.”

  Ander nodded and turned back to the pool. Nicolai was right. Hiding evil from his sight wouldn’t accomplish anything. He began to study the scene Thane had conjured and noticed a peculiar structure suspended a few feet above the prisoner. A metal hoop like the rim of a huge wagon wheel hung from the ceiling. Metal rods crisscrossed the circle, and dark red crystals mounted where the rods intersected formed a cryptic pattern. Thane was examining the device with feverish intensity.

  Ander nudged Nicolai. “What’s that wheel above the prisoner? Is it some kind of magical device?”

  Thane glanced up. His brow was creased in a scowl. “Yes. It’s some kind of focus, or perhaps a system for capturing the anima they torture out of their victims. But I don’t know how they’re using it to find us.” He paused, looking at Ander thoughtfully. “I wonder…. You had to flee from Pella with Nicolai and Sorel. And they had to use some minor magic to get past a patrol in the street. Right?”

  Ander nodded. “Yes. But how—”

  Thane pounded a fist into the palm of his other hand. “That’s it! If they have something of yours, it might give them a way to track you.”

  Ander looked at the ruined body on the iron grating. “They did this to him just to find me?” He licked his lips, feeling his stomach churn. The thought that he was responsible for this man’s pain made him ache. His sympathetic attention seemed to have an effect on the zamindar’s victim.

  The body stirred feebly, and the man’s eyes snapped open. An insane gaze fixed on Ander as if they stood within arm’s reach of each other. He jerked against his manacles and screamed. The piercing cry, full of hopeless pain and rage, was audible to the ears as well as the mind. Ander staggered backward, his head throbbing.

  “No!” Thane yelled. Whirling around, he vaulted over the side of the pool and plunged into the water. An explosion of golden radiance filled the workroom. At the same moment, the scream changed to a cry of joyous release.

  Spots danced before Ander’s eyes. Thane was nowhere to be seen. Panic surged as he blinked and tried to reorient himself. A babble of confused voices told him that the flash had taken everyone else by surprise as well.

  Yells split the air as he regained his vision. Through blurry eyes he saw Nicolai leap into the pool. The image of the zamindar’s victim was gone, and Thane lay facedown in the shallow water. Nicolai grabbed him under the arms and lifted his body. Icy water splashed over Ander as Nicolai hauled the limp form out of the pool and laid it on the floor.

  He forgot about the spots swarming before his dazzled eyes. “Turn him onto his front!” he commanded as he pushed the crowd back to make room. Nicolai looked at him with panicked eyes but rolled the body over. Ander pulled Thane’s arms out to the side, elbows bent so one hand rested above the other beneath his head. He turned the mage’s face to one side to rest on his hands and knelt on one knee above his head. After placing his hands on the middle of Thane’s back, he rocked forward slowly, keeping his elbows straight, exerting steady pressure until his arms were vertical. Then he rocked backward, sliding his hands to Thane’s arms just above the elbows, and raised the arms to lift the mage’s chest off the floor. He repeated the pressure and lifting cycle several times, moving with deliberation while the bystanders watched in shocked silence.

  After a few seconds Thane coughed, weakly at first and then with wrenching spasms as his lungs cleared. A cheer tinged with nearly hysterical relief echoed around the chamber’s stone walls. Ander moved off Thane and helped him sit up. The mage looked dazed and shivered violently.

  “Get something to cover him,” Ander said. Reaction to the crisis set in, and he began to tremble himself. He crouched next to Thane, keeping an arm around his shoulders until Anna provided a cloak. Thane huddled in it, his eyes closed, coughing and fighting to catch his breath.

  “I… I think he’ll be all right now,” Ander said in a shaky voice.

  Sorel put a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you. How did you know what to do?”

  “One of the companions at Lady Tayanita’s house had lost a daughter to drowning. He learned what to do from a healer and taught it to anybody who would listen.”

  “Your taste for knowledge has saved us all,” Nicolai said.

  Ander blushed. “It’s just lucky I knew somebody who wanted to teach it. Never mind me. We should get him warm and dry.”

  Nicolai helped
Thane to his feet, supporting most of his weight. Ander moved to his other side. Together they helped him out of the workroom and down the corridor to his rooms on the other side of the tower.

  Sorel opened a polished ebony door, and they carried Thane into a sunny chamber. Mirrors lining two walls reflected light coming through arched windows. They eased him onto a leather cushion in the center of the room. Ander helped Nicolai strip off wet moccasins and pants while Sorel fetched a blanket from a rosewood chest beneath a window.

  Ander brushed hair out of Thane’s eyes, looking at him with concern. “I don’t understand why he’s so still. I was told people recover fast once they get the water out.”

  Thane’s eyes fluttered open. “That device in the crypt… it tried to suck my anima into it when I touched the spell. It was like a leech. If the spell had held a second longer, it would have had me.”

  Nicolai leaned down and gently kissed him on the forehead. “But it failed. And we learned something vital. Whatever that device is, it’s a deadly threat.”

  Thane tried to sit up, but Sorel put a hand on his chest and pushed him back down. “Let Nicolai and me handle it. We’ll go to Fochelis and look around. If we ride hard, we can be back in two days. You need to rest.”

  Thane nodded reluctantly. “Gods, I hate feeling like this.” He managed a weak grin. “I haven’t been this drained since that time you dared Nicolai to see how long he could make me last.”

  The northerner grunted and rubbed Thane’s arm. “You didn’t complain about it at the time. And as I recall you wore me out just as much.”

  “True.” Thane returned Nicolai’s touch. “Be careful, you two. They’ll be on guard. And that device can detect disturbances in the kei. Don’t use the art unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” Ander asked. “I feel like this is my fault. That man didn’t wake up until I started looking at him closely.”

  “There was no way for you, or us, to know about this,” Thane said. “Besides, you should stay here and start learning the art. It seems they can somehow track you at a distance. We’ll need to keep you here under a concealment spell until we find a way to hide you from the kei.”

  “I just wish there was more I could do,” Ander said, but the pleading in Thane’s eyes weakened his resolve. His lonely expression revealed more than a desire for companionship; it was a deep need, a pain that was more than physical. Ander realized that he yearned to soothe it.

  Sorel reached over and tousled his hair. “You can keep Thane warm. And play the guitar for him. You can use mine. I told him what a fine musician you are.”

  Ander’s face reddened, though he nodded. Then he grinned. “At least if you and Nicolai are in Fochelis, you won’t be able to interrupt next time Thane and I start to get acquainted.”

  Chapter 11

  LOUD knocking on the door roused Ander from breathtaking dreams. Sweat glistened on his body, and his erection ached. The gramarye curiosa lay on a small table next to the bed, still open to an athletically dazzling illustration of magical technique. Surprisingly, it had been Thane who filled his sleep, even though the mage did not appear in his own illustrations. Their short time together had already changed him. They seemed to share a closeness based on more than physical attraction.

  He brushed hair out of his eyes and pulled a sheet over his body. “Come in,” he said. The door swung open, and a young woman stuck her head inside the room. Her dark brown hair, small nose, and mischievous eyes reminded him of an otter.

  “Morning. I’m Katy. Thane asked me to stir you out of bed and get you to the greenhouse by half past eight.” She thrust a bundle of clothes into the room. “You can wear these.”

  Ander blinked, still distracted by the erotic adventures that had filled his night. He noticed the book beside the bed and flipped it shut, his face blazing.

  Katy shook a finger at him. “You should always close a gramarye when you’re not using it. People could read an open page even if they couldn’t touch the book to open it.”

  “Uh… thanks for the advice.” He looked at the bundle of clothes in Katy’s hands but had no intention of getting out of bed in front of her while in his current condition. “Could you leave the clothes by the door, please? I can be ready in a minute.”

  Rolling her eyes, Katy put the bundle on the floor beside the door. “All right. One minute. I’ll wait outside.”

  Ander jumped out of bed as soon as the door closed. It took only a few moments to put on the dark brown trousers, tan shirt, and moccasins. He opened the door and stepped into the corridor.

  Katy was leaning against the wall opposite the door. She straightened up as he emerged, her gaze sweeping over him. A corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk.

  “I see why Thane’s testing you himself. Very nice.”

  Ander paused, not sure how to take the remark. He decided to let it pass. “Do we have time for breakfast?”

  “Breakfast, and then you’ll wash up. Everyone’s a fiend for cleanliness around here.” She looked at Ander’s disheveled mop of hair and sniffed. “Although I suppose some people might think sweaty young barbarians are appealing.”

  This time Ander glared at her and started walking. She ran to catch up, taking the lead with an air of offended dignity. They soon arrived at the dining room and took seats across from each other. The fire crackled cheerfully behind Katy, and conversations at other tables created a lively atmosphere.

  She signaled a server to bring food, then turned to face Ander, giving him an appraising stare.

  “What is it?” Ander said, trying to sound menacing.

  She rubbed her lower lip in mock thoughtfulness. “Maybe Nicolai was exaggerating about how shy you are. I wonder if he was exaggerating about everything else.”

  Ander blushed but returned her bold stare. “Isn’t there any privacy around here?”

  “Damned little. Except for working magic. That’s only done among initiates who share the same knowledge. Men among men, women among women.”

  “You’re an initiate, then?”

  She nodded vigorously before being interrupted by the server’s arrival. She poured their tea while the server laid out baked ham, fruit, and dishes of oatmeal. “Sorry about kidding you earlier. I couldn’t help it. You looked so innocent.”

  Ander stirred a few lumps of brown sugar into his oatmeal, finally starting to relax. He suspected she wasn’t really badgering him; it was just her way of being friendly. As he glanced at her, he noticed the laugh lines around her eyes and mouth. She was already tearing into a slice of ham.

  They rushed through breakfast in companionable silence. Bright light poured through the room’s high windows, highlighting the colorfully painted rafters. The cheerful atmosphere dispelled Ander’s anxiety over the upcoming test. By the end of the meal, he almost felt at home.

  The temporary tranquility was shattered by a bell ringing in the distance. Katy made a frantic face. “Can you shave and wash in fifteen minutes? You don’t want to keep Thane waiting. Saving his neck yesterday might win his gratitude, but you’ve still got to prove you can master the art.”

  “I’ll be ready. Are you going to take me to him, or can I find him myself?”

  “We’ll go together. And I need to wash too. Meet me at the front door in fifteen minutes.”

  Ander agreed and then went to the men’s washroom. It seemed a waste to hurry through the comforts offered by hot water and indoor plumbing, but he managed to arrive at the front door a minute before Katy. She surveyed his wet hair and wrinkled her nose. “You still look like a barbarian. But at least you don’t smell like a stag in rut.”

  By now Ander received her barbs in the playful manner they were intended. He adopted an indifferent air. “I’d rather smell like a stag than look like an otter.”

  She made an otter face at him and seemed pleased that he had stood up to her. “Thane probably wouldn’t mind if you smell like a rutting stag. I hear he’s insatiable
.”

  “Hadn’t we better get going?” The thought of Thane waiting for him filled him with anticipation.

  They left the warm hall. Frigid air bit through their clothes, but it was a short walk to the greenhouse. The building loomed as they approached, larger and more impressive than Ander had guessed when looking at it from his room. Forty feet high, it had a peaked roof with gracefully curving lines made from intricately carved timbers. Humid air steamed the inside of the glass, and he could see majestic palm leaves pressed against the panes. As they got closer, the trail curved around a short stone pyramid. The other side of the pyramid held a granite frame. A stairway descended into a steeply sloped passage lined with smooth stone slabs.

  Katy started down the steps, undeterred by the darkness. Ander hesitated, remembering his last experience in a cave.

  “Katy, aren’t we supposed to be going to the glass house?”

  She turned and gave him a scornful look. “It’s called a greenhouse. And this is the way in. The underground passage keeps cold air away from the plants.” She turned and continued downward into the darkness. Ander followed, letting his fingers trail along the cold stone. He heard Katy moving away and cautiously followed. Darkness engulfed him.

  “Hey!” The shout was unnaturally loud in the confined passage. Ander jumped. He landed in a crouch, all senses straining, heart pounding. There was no further sound. He waited several seconds, listening for signs of danger, before hearing a faint snicker.

  “Katy?”

  A giggle came from just ahead. “Just making sure you’re awake before you get to work.”

  Ander could tell that his new acquaintance was going to require watching. “I’m awake,” he said. “And I’m ready to see Thane. More than ready.”