by P. T. Hylton
Lily hadn’t seen the ghetto herself, but she’d heard plenty of tales. She’d met an elf not long ago, on a job with Zane, and he had seemed clean enough. But she didn’t need to share that now.
“Tell me about thorns and tangles,” Lily said.
A childlike smile appeared on his face. “Ah. Of course. Where to begin?” He ran to one of the shelves and picked up an object that looked like a long wooden cane. “There has long been a debate among abditus about whether thornsmen or tanglesmen have the more difficult job. In my opinion, they both have a fairly strong case. This object in my hand is a thorn. Observe.”
He tapped Lily on the right leg with the thorn. She gasped as the leg went numb. She caught the door to keep from falling.
“What you’re experiencing is a classic and elegant thorn,” Von Ridden said. “Thorns conduct magic in ultra-specific ways. This one is meant to make you lose control of specific body parts. Control for a brief period of time goes to the person holding the cane.”
Lily’s eyes widened as her foot began to tap out a complicated rhythm, all without her telling it to do so. “Stop it,” she said, her voice a whisper.
“Disconcerting, isn’t it?” Von Ridden said. “Not to worry, the only remaining thorn of this type is here in my hand.”
“Please,” she said, surprised at the pleading in her voice. “Stop it.”
“I won’t,” he said. “But you can.” He pointed to a shelf behind her. “That brass plate. Pick it up.”
Lily gritted her teeth, trying to ignore the eerie tapping of her foot. It seemed to be tapping out the rhythm to a song, but she couldn’t guess which one. She reached for the plate, trying not to lose her balance amid the absence of feeling in her leg.
The moment her fingers touched the plate, the involuntary tapping stopped and she could feel her leg again. She curled and uncurled her toes for a moment, confirming that her muscles obeyed her the way they should.
She realized she was clutching the plate in front of her with both hands, holding it like a shield.
“Now,” Von Ridden said, “let’s talk about what happened there. As I said, thorns channel and direct magical energies. It’s like the way a magnifying glass focuses sunlight. A thorn focuses magic, molds it to a purpose, and points it where it needs to go. Tangles, on the other hand, attract magic. Think of them as a—I don’t know—magnet. A tangle constantly pulls energy to itself and holds it there. The energy can be used for many things. For instance, consider a tangle built into a wall. It could be designed to release some ill-effect on anyone who comes too close to it. But one of the most common purposes of a tangle is to stop a thorn.”
He held up a finger and wagged it in the air. “Now, the key thing to understand here is tangles are much more effective when they’re designed to block a particular method of channeling magic. If a tanglesman is able to study a thorn, he will likely be able to design a tangle which can stop it flat. A more generalized tangle could protect against a wider range of thorns, but it would be less effective against each of them.
“And herein lies the central conflict between those who create thorns and those who create tangles. The thornsmen are constantly trying to find new and innovative methods for channeling magic, and tanglesmen are constantly trying to anticipate the thornsmen’s methods. Once a thorn becomes too commonplace, there will be a wide variety of readily available tangles able to shut it down.” He gestured to the plate still clenched in Lily’s hands. “That beauty was designed specifically to protect against my cane here. And as you’ve discovered it does a wonderful job.”
“What about Irving Farns?” Lily asked. “They say his tangles were the best.”
Von Ridden nodded. “Oh yes. He was quite revolutionary. Shame what happened to him. The killer still at large and all that.” He shot Lily a smile that made her suspect he might know more about that situation than he was letting on. “When Farns was a young man, he turned the magical world on its head by developing a tangle that reflected a thorn’s magic back at its own user. Very dangerous stuff. From what I’ve seen of his later work, he was more concerned with broadening a tangle’s scope. Making it more and more effective against a wider variety of thorns.”
Lily wondered how this all fit with the tangle Beth Farns had worn around her neck. The one that would disable an opponent before an act of aggression even took place. But she knew better to say anything about that. She made a mental note to have a conversation with Zane about thorns and tangles when this was all over. Why hadn’t he told her any of this?
She forced herself to put the plate down on the shelf where she’d found it. “Thank you. This was very enlightening. But I think I’d better prepare for my test.”
As she turned to go, she heard Von Ridden say, “Just remember what I said. Pass or fail, there is a place for you here.”
Lily pause for just a moment at the top of the staircase. “I’ll pass the exam.”
She found a guard waiting for her at the bottom of the staircase. He led her back to her room in the abandoned dungeon. It seemed dim and dirty after being in the heady heights of the castle proper.
Zane was waiting for her in her room. He was sharpening his sword again, a blank look on his face.
To Zane’s credit, he didn’t ask her how her talk with Von Ridden went or how she’d answered his offer. Instead he said, “We leave in an hour. Anything I can do to help you prepare? You want to spar?”
“There is something,” she said. “Tell me why you hate Jacob Von Ridden.”
After a long pause, he said, “All right.”
And he did.
CHAPTER SEVEN
My abditus mentor was named Rebecca Waters. I think maybe you knew that from the records you saw. Her specialty was thorns. You might know that, too, but what you don’t likely know is the type of thorns she created. Her thorns were concealable. She made them to fit easily into pockets, up sleeves, sometimes even into the toes of boots. According to Rebecca, she designed them that way so they could be used for self-defense without calling attention to themselves. A cynic might say they were designed for more nefarious purposes. And, indeed, a cynic would be correct. I’ve seen more than a few of our fellow ferox wielding thorns designed by Rebecca Waters.
Designing such small thorns was time-consuming work that required a steady hand and more than a little patience. Rebecca was a harsh mentor. She never had an ear for an excuse or patience for a missed deadline. That didn’t bother me. I was a hard worker, if you’ll excuse the immodesty. I wasn’t the type of child who shrank from teachers with a firm hand. Indeed, it only motivated me to work harder. When a teacher praised me, I wanted to know I’d earned it, not that it was the type of feigned praise they handed out to all students just for showing up.
But Rebecca Waters was different, and her admonitions bothered me. She wasn’t just holding me to some lofty ideal standard. She insisted on comparing me to her former apprentice, Jacob Von Ridden. And when compared with Jacob, I always came up lacking in her eyes. If I mastered a technique in two weeks, Jacob had mastered it in one. And, if by some miracle I did manage to learn something in a shorter time than my predecessor, clearly I was rushing and I didn’t take the necessary time to learn the nuances of the craft. It was maddening.
You must believe me, Lily, when I say I’m not one to cry unfairness when I don’t get my way. I was comfortable with not being the most clever person in the Academy and I was fine not living up to my mentor’s expectations. It was just that she held me to this unattainable standard of Jacob Von Ridden.
Finally, despairing for my future, Ms. Waters set up a time for me to visit Jacob in his freshly opened workshop. She was hoping he would set me straight, I think. Or that a little of his competence would rub off on me. Whatever the reason, the day came, and when I visited him I was shocked to discover I genuinely liked him. And he seemed to like me. We became friends, after a fashion, and I would often consult with him when I needed help with my studies. He even sought
my opinion a time or two.
The closer I became with Jacob, the more two things about him disturbed me. First, he seemed to be making more money than a first-year abditus had any right to be making. In the third month I knew him, he relocated from his small workshop to another in the most expensive section of town. He started wearing finely tailored clothing and jewelry that was a bit gaudy for my tastes, but undoubtedly expensive. Now, there was a possible explanation for all this. Jacob didn’t specialize in thorns or tangles; he specialized in shimmers. And a shimmerman who catered to the rich could do quite well. After all, no one is vainer than the rich, and they never stop wanting to alter their appearances to fit the latest trends.
The second thing that gave me pause was that, despite our friendship, Jacob never discussed the specifics of his work with me. When he asked for my feedback, he spoke in generalities. I saw clients come and go, but he never did any business in my presence. He was extremely secretive, and I knew he only took clients by referral. Again, hardly a standard practice for a first-year abditus.
Lily, it’s possible I had some ferox in my blood even back then, because rather than asking Jacob about it, or even asking Ms. Waters what she knew about his business, I decided to investigate.
I snuck into his workshop one night after he’d left, and I went into the back room, the one he’d never allowed me in. And what I found was…odd. There were dozens of devices, but, from what I could tell with my limited knowledge of shimmers, they all seemed to do the same thing. I took one of the smaller objects, a pendant necklace.
It took months of study to figure out what function the device performed, but when I did, I was shocked. Jacob had taken the principles Rebecca Waters developed to create tiny, ultra-focused thorns, and applied them to shimmers. But while Ms. Waters’ thorns were razor-sharp weapons of deadly precision, Jacob’s shimmers were more like battering rams. He’d figured out a way to make the shimmers change what people felt rather than what they saw. And the effect wasn’t subtle. Jacob’s shimmers could convince a woman she was deeply in love with a man. They could convince a servant he loved his cruel master.
Can you imagine the possibilities, Lily? The longer I thought about it, the more horrified I became. Imagine the great and terrible things that could be done if you could reliably control the feelings of those around you? And then I thought of Ms. Waters and her almost reverent respect for her former apprentice. I began to question everything, my own feelings notwithstanding. When you can’t trust your own feelings, what can you trust?
After much research, I realized Jacob’s invention was a completely new class of shimmer. There had never been anything like it. And there was a rule for new devices, one Jacob hadn’t followed.
I took the device I’d stolen to the local Abditus Hall. Then I walked to the Ferox Hall and asked to change my allegiance. They checked my test scores and then allowed it. I knew I couldn’t be part of the Abditus Society after what I’d learned. The things they created…the things Jacob created. And, worst of all, they were putting them only in the hands of only the rich. What kind of a world is it when the rich alone have access to that kind of power?
The Abditus Society slapped Jacob on the wrist for not sharing his discovery with the Society. In the end, the Society declared Jacob’s shimmers restricted, which meant he could no longer sell them and that they would be studied by the Society for educational purposes only. But it hadn’t been illegal to make them. If anything, the incident raised Jacob’s standing in the Society.
So perhaps now you understand my concern when I learned this man is now the King’s Shadow. This man who can manipulate the feelings of those around him. It’s possible Jacob got his current position through normal means. And it’s also possible he used his old shimmers to change the king’s opinion of him.
Guard your feelings around Jacob, Lily, and know that the things you feel may not be your own.
***
They sat in silence for a long while before Lily spoke.
Finally, she said, “Let me ask you a question. You say you left the Abditus Society because of the things they created and because they offered them only to those rich enough to afford them. But then you joined the Ferox Society. And you kill only for people rich enough to afford it. Doesn’t that seem a little, I don’t know, hypocritical?”
Zane couldn’t help but smile. “Ah. I see your point.” He rubbed his chin for a moment before continuing. “Imagine for a moment one of Jacob’s devices. An object with the power to take away free will. To take away the very thing that makes us human. That’s some weapon, yes?”
Lily nodded. “Of course.”
“Once Jacob sells it, he has zero control over what is done with it. Maybe the customer only uses it to enhance a business dealing here and there. Maybe he uses it to get a beautiful woman to think she loves him. Maybe he uses it to start a war. Whatever happens, it’s out of Jacob’s control.”
Zane leaned forward and raised a finger in the air. “Now, consider what I do. I’m a weapon for the rich, yes. But I’m the weapon. I control how I’m used. I accept and turn down jobs. It’s always me. And when I die, the weapon dies with me. That’s what I couldn’t accept about being an abditus. You have no control over how your creations are used. They could change the world, and you’d have no way to stop it.”
Lily drummed her fingers together. “I can’t figure out if that’s rationalization or the best argument I’ve ever heard against being an abditus.”
“That’s good,” Zane said. “You’re lack of conviction means you’re not yet compromised.”
Lily raised an eyebrow. “Yet?”
“We all get compromised, to some extent.”
After a moment, she said, “Let me ask you another question. When you sparred, why’d you let Faraday beat you?”
Zane smiled. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but he’s fairly proficient with a blade. I didn’t exactly have to throw the match.”
“But you didn’t show him the full extent of your abilities.”
He paused, pleased at her ability to see through his attempt at deception. “It’s never a good idea to show an opponent the extent of your abilities before you absolutely have to.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “And that’s what Faraday is? Your opponent?”
“That remains to be seen.” He stood up and turned to go. “I’ll leave you to collect your thoughts. In a few short hours, we’ll know if you’ll ever be a ferox.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
As they approached the Ferox Society Great Hall, Lily was surprised to find her heart beating faster and her palms sweating. The confidence she’d shown Von Ridden hadn’t been bravado. She really was that sure of her success. Or so she’d thought at the time. Now she wasn’t so sure.
She walked exactly one-half step behind Zane, just as he’d instructed her. She wore a simple, formless black dress that flowed with her and wouldn’t hinder her movements. It was designed not to draw attention. Zane, on the other hand, was dressed in the finest clothes. The king’s tailor had dropped them off that morning and Lily was unclear on whether Zane was expected to return them when this was over. The suit was the height of fashion, complete with a waistcoat that nearly touched the floor in the back, almost forming a cape. She would have thought Zane would look silly in such fashionable clothing, but she had to admit he was pulling it off.
Faraday and Von Ridden weren’t with them. They were apparently meeting Zane elsewhere. Lily wasn’t privy to the details of the job, which annoyed her despite the logic of the plan. Zane said he wanted her focusing on the exam, not wondering how the plan was going step by step. The unspoken other reason was if things went wrong and Lily ended up being interrogated, the less she knew the better.
Zane gave her a look and tiny smile as he pulled open the Great Hall door. Lily took a deep breath and followed him inside.
The air was a few degrees cooler inside the building, which at least provided Lily with a good excuse as to why her arms
were suddenly covered in goosebumps. The lobby was quieter than the last time she’d been here. Then, there’d been ferox milling about and chatting. Today, there was only that strange young man behind the tiny desk in the middle of the room, and a short, broad man in a long charcoal-colored cloak standing next to him. The cloaked man had his hands folded in front of him, and he watched Lily enter with a feigned disinterest.
This, Lily knew, must be her proctor.
The man behind the desk nodded politely at Zane as he approached. He didn’t acknowledge Lily. “Ferox Halloway, welcome.”
Zane returned the nod and replied with a simple, “Brother Ferox.”
The cloaked man, on the other hand, paid no attention to Zane. His gaze was fixed on Lily. He gave her an appraising look up and down.
“I’ll be your proctor for the exam,” he said.
Lily waited for him to give his name, but he didn’t.
The young man behind the desk said, “Ferox Halloway, it’s customary for the mentor to have a drink with the head of the society while the apprentice tests.”
Zane’s lips curled up in a smile. “This isn’t my first placement exam. I’ve had other apprentices.”
The young man’s face reddened. “Of course. Apologies. You may proceed up to Ferox Danum’s study. Do you require an escort?”
“No,” Zane said. He turned to Lily and hesitated, like he wasn’t sure what to say. For a moment, Lily thought Zane was going to hug her. Instead, he said, “You’re ready. You haven’t had a long time to prepare, but you’ve made good use of the time you’ve had. I’ve taught you many things. Remember the important things—the most important thing—I’ve told you many times. Understand?”
She wasn’t sure she did, but she nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak. She was certain her voice would quiver, and she didn’t want that to happen in front of her proctor and the smug young man behind the desk.
