The Cunning Man, page 12
“Adam,” Arnold said, as soon as they were alone. “What happened?”
Adam wanted to say nothing, to deny that anything had happened, but there was something about Arnold’s tone - calm, mature, understanding - that made the words bubble out of his mouth without quite passing through his mind. He told them everything, from Lilith taking him to the library and Jasper hexing him to the Gorgon freeing him from the spell. The shame churned inside him, like bile that refused to be expelled from his stomach. He’d heard, once, of a man who’d fled Beneficence after an encounter with a witch. He understood, now, how that man had felt. He hadn’t just been beaten; he’d been crushed so badly it had broken him for the rest of his life.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Arnold said, when he’d finished. “Magicians are just nasty bastards.”
Adam looked away. He’d broken down in front of a peer, a young man who wasn’t old enough to be anything other than a peer, and a girl. He knew, deep inside, that he would never live it down. He’d been taught he couldn’t cry, certainly not in front of witnesses. And yet, he wanted to cry. He swallowed, hard. The urge to just keep walking, to board the train back to Farrakhan, was almost overwhelming. He wasn’t sure where he’d go, after that, but he was sure he’d go somewhere.
“They hate us being here,” Arnold added, clapping him on the shoulder. “But we’ll show them, won’t we?”
“We will,” Taffy said.
Adam scowled. “And how do you intend this miracle to be achieved?”
“They may have power, but they’re still human,” Arnold said. “They can be beaten.”
“Right.” Adam wasn’t sure if Arnold had an idea or if he was merely trying to cheer Adam up, but he was too gutted to care. “I’m sure we’ll think of something.”
“Here’s a different question,” Arnold said, more practically. “Did Lilith set you up?”
Adam froze. He hadn’t considered it. Lilith hadn’t accompanied him into the library. Jasper had already been inside the library when Adam had entered ... hadn't he? Adam couldn’t swear to it. Even if he had been, Lilith could easily have sent him a message or simply set the whole ambush up in advance. His head spun. Matt wouldn’t have done that, not when it would make him look a coward as well as a bully. But Lilith was a girl. The rules might be different for her. No one expected girls to lead with their fists ...
She’s a magician, he reminded himself. Magicians - male and female alike - were effectively nobility. Sorcerers and sorceresses were considered social equals. The rules really might be different for her.
He frowned. It wasn’t impossible. He’d seen girls - seemingly powerless - leverage what little they had to convince their partners to do stupid things. Lilith was far from powerless, although she was alone ... perhaps she’d flirted with Jasper, offering to pay a little attention to him in exchange for his services ... Adam shook his head. It was possible, but unlikely. Lilith had never shown any reluctance to hex him herself. And she was too proud to flirt with anyone.
“I ... I don’t think so,” he said, finally. “She could have zapped me herself.”
“Or Jasper thought he was getting into her good graces by zapping you,” Arnold said. He smiled, although Adam had no idea why. “Or he’s just another incompetent magician who fears what you could do, even without magic.”
Adam blinked. “So he’s an idiot?”
“Yes.” Arnold sobered, slightly. “Yes and no. You can kill a magician with a gun. And, by the gods, they hate it.”
So do the nobles, Adam reflected, as they reached the edge of town. The thought of a man with a gun shooting a fully-trained knight ...
He put the thought aside and followed them through the streets. They were even more alive, somehow, than the previous day, although they had to push their way through the crowds. He kept one hand on his money pouch, just to be sure, as Arnold led them to a crowded pub and pushed the door open. The noise nearly deafened him. The chamber was packed with young men and women, drinking and laughing and chatting as they relaxed after a long day.
Arnold turned and raised his voice. It was still hard to make out the words. “What can I get you?”
“The local,” Adam said. He’d never been much of a drinker - Master Pittwater would not have been impressed if he’d come to work with a hangover - but he knew better than to decline the offer. Drinking contests were often part of life in Beneficence. “I’m sure it will be good.”
“The best, or so I’m told,” Arnold said. “You and Taffy go find a spot. I’ll get the drinks.”
Adam nodded and allowed Taffy to lead him towards the tables at the rear. The noise - somehow - seemed to grow louder. He frowned as his eyes swept over the customers, noting the oddities. It was rare, back home, for women to enter pubs unless they were waitresses, prostitutes or both. Here, men and women drank together as equals. Taffy pointed to an empty table and sat down. Adam sat, facing her. It wasn’t the sort of place a respectable young woman would enter, not in Beneficence, but Taffy seemed perfectly calm. He reminded himself, sharply, that the rules were different here.
“Don’t worry about it,” Taffy said, patting his hand. “You’re not the first and you won’t be the last.”
Adam said nothing. He couldn’t put his feelings into words. He was a free citizen of Beneficence, not ... not a farm girl from the back of beyond. Taffy had grown up knowing she was someone’s property, first her father and then her husband’s, that her freedom was very limited and could be taken from her at any time ... it wasn’t the same. No one would think any less of her if her father, or husband, forced her to submit to their will. Adam was all too aware it wouldn’t work out so well for him. If he got a reputation as a doormat, as someone who could be trodden on at any moment, it would be the end of his life. He’d have to leave the university and never return, perhaps changing his name in a bid to outrun his infamy ...
Maybe it isn’t that different, he reflected. She came here to escape, just like you.
A thought struck him. “Have you been away for a year and a day?”
Taffy looked downcast. “It doesn’t work that way, not for runaway brides,” she said. “They can search for me until the end of their days.”
Adam felt a surge of protectiveness that surprised him. “They won’t find you here,” he said, seriously. “And if they do, we’ll help you.”
“The laws are different here,” Taffy said, quietly. She waved a hand at the crowd. “Legally, they can’t come and drag me back home. Practically ... I don’t know.”
Adam nodded, feeling his insides twist. It was never easy to escape one’s upbringing, even if one travelled halfway around the world. Laws could change quickly; social change was a great deal slower and rougher as the new laws sorted themselves out. He’d heard the stories from Cockatrice. Lady Emily had upset a multitude of apple carts, in the name of ensuring fairness and justice for all. Adam understood and even admired what she’d done, but he wasn’t blind to the downsides. How could one plan for the future when laws and customs could be changed in the blink of an eye?
Arnold returned, carrying a tray of drinks. Adam took his tankard as Arnold sat next to Taffy and lifted his own glass. There was something odd about the way they sat together ... Adam puzzled it over for a moment, then kicked himself for missing the obvious. They sat as friends, not as lovers or partners or, for that matter, Arnold trying to push his way into Taffy’s personal space. Adam honestly wasn’t sure what to make of it. He knew women could be just as capable as men - his mother had put bread on the table, his sister was preparing to take the shop when their mother retired - and yet it was rare to simply socialise with young woman. There was always an awareness of their femininity ...
“Confusion to our enemies,” Arnold said. “And power to the people.”
“Power to the people,” Adam echoed. He took a sip of his beer. It was good, unsurprisingly. The publican probably had his own private recipe. “And ...”
Arnold grinned. “Success to your apprenticeship? And ours?”
“You haven’t told me much about yours,” Adam said. He couldn’t help noticing that Arnold was drinking something that looked more like juice than beer. That would never have stood back home. A man who didn’t drink beer was less than a man. “What’s it like, being a craftsman’s apprentice?”
Arnold sipped, thoughtfully. He didn’t seem remotely concerned about drinking something that, back in Beneficence, would be taken for a woman’s drink. Adam admired his confidence, wishing he shared it. He could never have done that, not in public. One might as well drink water. The mockery would last forever.
“It has good points and bad points,” Arnold said. “I stay in the dorms” - he jerked a thumb at the nearest wall, indicating the distant castle - “and move back and forth between the workshops under the university and the factories here. My master drills me mercilessly in everything from drafting plans to actually forging for myself. And when I’m not busy, or attending lectures, I work with the Levellers. We’re determined to carve out a space for ourselves here.”
Adam nodded. Of course Arnold was a Leveller. Most craftsmen were, particularly the ones who’d benefited from the New Learning. The Levellers weren’t that strong in Beneficence - there was no need, when the city had already given them what they wanted - but they were dominant in Cockatrice and spreading rapidly through the rest of the Allied Lands. Adam had heard rumours of Leveller-backed uprisings and revolts, even outright rebellions. He wasn’t sure how many of them could be taken seriously. He’d read stories claiming Beneficence had been destroyed, when he’d been living in the city at the time.
“You should come to one of the meetings,” Taffy put in. “You’d be welcome.”
“Even as an alchemist’s apprentice?” Adam wasn’t so sure. “They’re more likely to tell me to get out.”
“Even so.” Arnold took another sip of his drink. “The magicians have the edge. Sure, there are rules to protect us, but they’re barely enforced. Half the magicians hate us and the other half don’t give a shit. Lady Emily isn’t here and, even if she was, would she do anything?”
Adam had no answer. There were so many stories about Lady Emily, the Child of Destiny, that it was impossible to tell which ones were actually true. She’d changed the world, for better or worse. She’d introduced new technologies and concepts that held out the promise of a better world to come, if they reached for it; she’d laid the groundwork for political and social reform that had made things better for millions of people. The thought of her not being on their side was ... was practically blasphemy. And yet ...
“She fought to put Princess Alassa on the throne, rather than let the people have their say,” Arnold said, quietly. “She did that because the Princess - the Queen - was her friend. The university council is composed of her friends too, including - if rumour is to be believed - her former lover. Would she side against them if pushed? Or would she take their side?”
“I ...” Adam wasn’t sure. It wasn’t easy to go against one’s friends. He didn’t think he’d be able to say no, if his friends wanted to do something stupid. It would cost him much even if everyone agreed he’d done the right thing. Lady Emily was older and wiser and ... he wasn’t sure what she’d do. “She isn’t even here.”
“No,” Arnold agreed. “And we cannot rely on the people she left behind.”
Adam said nothing for a long, cold moment. Lilith had hexed him. Jasper had hexed him. And nothing had happened to either of them ... he cursed under his breath. What was the point in making a formal complaint, he asked himself, when it would just make matters worse? Lilith and Jasper were both well-connected, as well as powerful. Their respective masters wouldn’t punish them, not for merely hexing a mundane. The only time Adam had seen Master Landis even slightly irked at Lilith had been when she’d insulted Master Pittwater. Perhaps they were father and son. It wasn’t impossible. It would certainly explain the younger man’s reaction.
“I’ll do what I can, once I’ve secured my place,” Adam said, finally. A shiver ran through him as he remembered Lilith’s words. He didn’t have long to prove himself. “But I don’t know what we can do.”
“We’ll think of something,” Arnold said. He finished his drink, without calling for another. Adam was quietly relieved. “Right now, let’s go explore Heart’s Ease.”
Taffy smiled. “There’s a lot to do here,” she said. She put her drink to one side and stood, brushing down her dress. “And if things go wrong, you could simply stay in town. There’s plenty of jobs for young men willing to work hard.”
“Maybe,” Adam said. He didn’t want to consider it, not yet. “But it would feel like giving up.”
Chapter Twelve
“Acceptable,” Lilith said with a sneer. She took the bowl of ground seeds and started to turn away, then stopped. “Chop up some Julia Roots, then place them in hot water for twenty minutes.”
Adam ground his teeth as she headed back to her cauldron. He doubted Lilith had had anything to do with Jasper hexing him - she would have rubbed his nose in it, he was sure, if she’d known about it - but it hardly mattered. She was as unpleasant and snobbish as ever, snapping and snarling at him whenever Master Landis was out of the lab. Adam didn’t know what their master was doing, but - whatever it was - it took him away from his apprentices for long periods of time. And that meant he and Lilith were alone.
He forced himself to keep working. What could he do to impress her? What could he do that she couldn’t? He knew, without false modesty, that he was a skilled preparer, yet she was no slouch herself. And she could take the ingredients and brew them into a magical potion. He could work out how the magic worked, and even diagram it out for someone with more magical power than theory, but ... she could do all that and more. He was starting to wonder if he’d agreed to a sucker bet. The week he’d spent trying to come up with something new had been completely wasted.
Not quite wasted, he told himself, sternly. You’ve learnt quite a bit.
He glanced at Lilith. She was staring down at a bubbling cauldron. He was tempted to ask why she wasn’t bothering with protective clothes, then realised - before he could further diminish himself in her eyes - that she could sense a destabilising potion and dive under the table before it blew up in her face. The paranoid part of his mind wondered if she’d even bother to shout a warning. She might not even realise she needed to warn him before it was too late. Her potions classes would have been conducted in classrooms full of young magicians.
Lilith looked up, her eyes meeting his. “See something you like?”
“You’re a very good brewer,” Adam said. It was true. She might not be a master alchemist, not yet, but she was well on the way. “It’s ... impressive.”
“Yes,” Lilith agreed, coldly. “And it is something you will never be able to do for yourself.”
She leaned over the cauldron, sprinkling in a brown powder Adam didn’t recognise. The liquid bubbled - there was a flare of light, bright enough to make his eyes hurt - and changed colour. Lilith clicked her fingers, turning off the heat, then stepped back to watch as the potion started to cool. The steam slowly died away.
“Perfect,” Lilith said. She shot Adam a sharp look. “What do you think?”
“I’m sure it’s perfect,” Adam said. “When are you getting your mastery?”
“I have to think of something new, something I can show to the guild, before they grant me anything,” Lilith said. She shook her head in irritation. “What can I do that hasn’t been done before?”
“I don’t know,” Adam said. It might not count as impressing her, but ... if he could find something she could do, who knew where it might lead? “But we can look together ...”
Lilith shot him a scornful look. “That is, quite possibly, the stupidest idea since Master Buckley thought it would be a good idea to throw ten highly explosive ingredients into the same cauldron, just to see what would happen. I have to come up with the idea myself. I have to put it into practice myself. I have to write out a long and detailed report of what I had in mind, what I thought would happen, what actually did happen and why I should be granted the rank of master. And I have to do it all by myself. They’ll make me swear an oath to prove I didn’t steal someone else’s idea. Even yours!”
Adam flushed. “It was only a suggestion.”
“It was a stupid suggestion,” Lilith snapped. “Master Buckley blew himself up. You could have cost me everything.”
She raised her hand, as if she intended to hex him, then lowered it as the door opened and Master Landis walked into the room, carrying a large bag of ... something. Adam wrinkled his nose. He had a strong stomach - he wouldn’t have been able to work in an apothecary if he hadn’t - but the stench was strong enough to make him glad he hadn’t eaten much for breakfast. Lilith hadn’t given him the time. He wondered if she’d known what was coming, then decided it was unlikely. She’d never shown him much in the way of consideration. It was hard to believe she’d start now.
Master Landis carried the bag over to the far corner and dumped the contents onto the iron-topped table. Adam frowned as he saw the fruits. They looked like greenish pineapples, but they smelled like ... he wasn’t sure what they were, but they smelled worse than the fish market after an afternoon of baking sunlight. Lilith recoiled, stepping back as if she thought the fruits were going to leap off the table and attack her. Adam hid his amusement with an effort. He doubted she’d take it calmly if he laughed at her.
“Durians,” Master Landis said, by way of explanation. “You do know how to prepare them?”
“Only in theory,” Adam said. He’d heard of durians, but he’d never seen them. “What do I do?”
