The Cunning Man, page 8
His lips twisted, torn between amusement and disgust. Unless the fish are preserved by magic, they’ll have gone bad before they got halfway here.
The sense of life and innovative energy only grew stronger as they reached the centre of town. It was bustling with activity, from people running around to horses and carts pushing their way through the crowd. Broadsheet sellers were screaming out the latest headlines from the war, never seeming to notice that they were contradicting each other; shopkeepers and recruiters, even political activists, were shouting at the passersby, trying to convince them to join ... join something. Mobs of apprentices stood everywhere, making their way through the city. A steam engine tooted in the distance, coming into view briefly as it made its way along the tracks. Adam stared, remembering just how bumpy the ride had been. It was hard to believe the railway line was remotely solid.
“There are too many people here,” Lilith said. She sounded uncomfortable. “How do they live like this?”
“You should probably stay away from Beneficence, then,” Adam said. The streets here were crowded, but his hometown was worse. Far worse. “Where were you born?”
Lilith gave him a sharp look, as if he’d asked a silly question. Adam did his best to hide his irritation. He’d only known her for a day ... really, less than a day. He didn’t know anything about her, beyond the fact she was an alchemical apprentice with a stick stuck somewhere the sun didn’t shine. And ... he frowned, inwardly. He’d known a few girls who considered themselves social queens, but they’d been surrounded by fair-weather friends and others who did their bidding in exchange for their de facto patronage. Lilith seemed to be alone. She certainly hadn’t invited anyone to join them.
She turned and led the way into a long low building. The air was much cooler, somewhat to his relief, and smelled of food rather than sand and strange magic. Lilith walked through inner doors as if she owned the place, nodding to a waiter as she led the way to a table by the windows. Adam followed, trying not to gawk. It felt as if he’d walked straight into a palace. Even the guildhall back home hadn’t been so splendid. He averted his eyes as a pair of waitresses walked by, wearing clothes that revealed far too much of their bodies. It was ... it was a shock. He’d never seen anything like it in Beneficence.
The waiter bowed, then held out a pair of menus. Adam looked at the prices and blanched. It would cost him nearly everything he had to order even the cheapest thing on the menu. He wanted to suggest they went somewhere - anywhere - else, but Lilith was already ordering without looking at the menu. The waiter’s face was blank, yet his pose suggested he wanted to run. Adam had the feeling Lilith had visited before and made a name for herself - and not in a good way.
“Order whatever you like,” Lilith said. “Master Landis is paying.”
Adam swallowed, hard. Master Pittwater hadn’t been poor, but there was no way in hell he could have afforded to eat at this restaurant. Adam didn’t know anyone who could afford to eat in such a place regularly ... no, that wasn’t true any longer. Lilith hadn’t even looked at the prices before she’d started to order. How rich was she, and her family, that they didn’t have to worry about the cost? Adam could have fed himself, and his entire family, for a month for what she proposed to spend in a day.
“I don’t know what to order,” he said, finally. The menu was useless. He didn’t recognise any of the names. “What should I eat?”
Lilith shrugged. Adam scowled and picked something at random, then leaned back in his chair and surveyed the other diners as the waiter hurried off to the kitchens. There weren’t many other customers and those he could see, within eyeshot, looked older and richer than anyone he’d encountered in Beneficence. They didn’t seem remotely interested in either of them. A man wearing colourful livery, suggesting he was the sworn servant of a king or powerful aristocrat, was having dinner with a man in magical robes. Two rows down, there were three women in fancy dresses that showed off their breasts. Adam found it hard not to stare. Anyone dressed like that, back home, would almost certainly be a whore. What were they here? He didn’t know.
“This town gets bigger every year,” Lilith muttered, darkly. “I swear. They put up new buildings overnight and then act all surprised when they come crashing down.”
Adam frowned as it occurred to him, in a flash of insight, that Lilith might not like crowds. It wasn’t impossible. One of Master Pittwater’s old apprentices had come from the country and never been able to adapt to city life. He’d found the crowds terrifying. Did Lilith have the same problem? If she’d grown up in a village, or a magical estate, she might not be used to being surrounded by so many people. He felt an odd flash of sympathy, which he forced down before he could show it to her. She was just like Matt in one respect. She didn’t know how lucky she was.
He leaned forward as her words sunk in. “Do the buildings really fall down?”
“Yes,” Lilith said. “This place isn’t called the Desert of Death for nothing. The storms are nasty. Those tents out there? If they’re not charmed just right, they’ll be picked up and thrown all the way to the Great Ocean when the wind blows. Those buildings? They’re too big to be safe. And most of them aren’t anchored properly either. The gods blow and they come tumbling down.”
Adam shuddered. “All of a sudden, coming here doesn’t seem such a bright idea.”
Lilith smiled, rather humourlessly, then looked up as a waiter returned with two trays of food. Adam shook his head in disbelief as he realised he’d ordered lobster with boiled potatoes and a side of vegetables. His mother could have fed the entire family on one lobster ... hell, she could have cooked a dozen for the price of one in the restaurant. He started to eat, tearing the shell apart to get at the meat below. The lobster wasn’t cooked very well. The cooks seemed more interested in arranging the animal so it looked scary, rather than cooking it properly. He prayed to all the gods they made sure to wash their hands before they started to work.
“This place is scamming us,” he said. “Why do you come here?”
“It’s fancy,” Lilith said. “Of course it’s expensive.”
Adam didn’t hide his irritation. It seemed to annoy her. She honestly had no idea how much things were actually worth. Adam was sure she wouldn’t last a week on the streets. Traders would see her coming and mark up their prices, sure she wouldn’t lower herself to haggle. The lobster in front of him had been marked up so badly ... maybe it had been transported hundreds of miles. It was still massively overpriced.
“I think we’d better eat somewhere else, next time,” Adam said. “There have to be cheaper places.”
“But none so important,” Lilith said, firmly. “And what makes you think there’s going to be a next time?”
Adam swallowed the response that came to mind and turned his attention back to his dinner, picking the lobster apart to be sure he got all the meat. His mother would scold him for wasting food ... he felt a sudden pang as he realised he might never see his mother again. He wasn’t even sure if he could send a message, announcing his safe arrival. Perhaps he could ask Master Landis to send a note to Master Pittwater. Magicians had their own ways of staying in touch. If Adam impressed him enough, perhaps he’d send the message without demanding something in return.
Lilith stood, leaving a handful of coins on the table. “We’ll go straight back to the university,” she said, as she headed for the door. “We can pick up the rest of the tour later in the week.”
Adam nodded, trying not to yawn. “It’s been a long day.”
The crowds hadn’t abated outside, he noted, as they pushed their way out of the building and hurried up the streets. Lilith seemed to inch a little closer to him, although no one but a deluded optimist could have mistaken it for intimacy. Adam tried not to look at the newer buildings too closely as they walked past, dreading the thought of having to live there. They looked as if they were held together with spit and baling wire. Lilith might be a witch - and something that rhymed with witch, Adam considered - but she had a point. The majority of the newer buildings looked as if they were going to collapse. A handful were nothing more than a shell, being put together at terrifying speed. The workers looked surprisingly slapdash, compared to the ones he’d seen back home. But then, the guilds kept construction workers firmly under their thumbs. Here ... Adam had a feeling there simply weren’t any guilds. He certainly hadn’t seen any advertised.
A man ran up to him and shoved a leaflet into Adam’s hand. He read it as the man hurried away again, frowning. The very first line read LEVELLER MEETING, 2100HRS. He glanced through the rest of the text, including promises that a number of prominent Levellers would be there and quotes from others, including Lady Emily herself. He’d known Levellers back home, but he’d never paid too much attention. It was harder for them to gain a following in a city where everyone, at least in theory, could influence the council. They were far more prominent in Zangaria.
“They think we’re all equal,” Lilith commented, sardonically. “And that we are all one and the same.”
Adam glanced at her. “And you don’t think so?”
Lilith gave him a cold smile as they made their way back onto the road leading up to the university. “Do you know what I could do to you?”
“Yes,” Adam said. A shiver ran down his spine. Matt had told him that students played horrible pranks on each other. If a freeze spell was a first-year spell, nothing more than a joke, he shuddered to think what might be considered genuine malice. “It doesn’t make you better than me.”
“Keep dreaming.” Lilith snorted. “If it makes you feel any better.”
She didn’t bother to lower her voice as they walked on. “If you had something I wanted, I could just take it. Who could stop me?”
Adam considered it. “My sister is weaker than me,” he said, finally. “She still nearly broke my jaw.”
Lilith ignored him. “The Levellers can protest all they like. They can build all the fancy toys” - she turned and pointed towards a steam engine, making its way down the track - “they like. It won’t make any difference. If they cause too much trouble, we’ll crush them like bugs. We’ll turn them into bugs and crush them. So what if they’re smarter? So what if you’re smarter? I still have power beyond your comprehension.”
She grinned. “You have no power over me and we both know it. Your sister is on the same level as you. I am so far above you that the gap simply cannot be put into words.”
Adam gritted his teeth. No one, not even Matt, had put it so bluntly. “The last time I heard someone say something like that,” he said finally, “he took a massive pratfall because of his overconfidence.”
“But my overconfidence is justified,” Lilith pointed out. “Was his?”
Adam had no answer. The idiot had bragged he could kick Adam’s ass at Strategy. He’d been so overconfident that Adam had wiped him off the board, after he’d committed the sort of mistake no one would make when facing someone with half a brain. Or even a working knowledge of the rules. Lilith ...
His heart twisted. Sure, Adam could beat her on the gameboard. She could still slap him down any moment she wished. He wondered, suddenly, if she was connected to someone really powerful. Or if she was more powerful in magic than he’d thought. It was hard to believe that any magician would put up with her if there wasn’t a very good reason. Master Pittwater had certainly not put up with arrogant or snooty apprentices.
He was tempted to ask. But he doubted he’d get a straight answer. Instead ...
“Lilith,” he said. “Can I ask a question?”
“Of course.” Lilith spoke like a haughty monarch bestowing a favour on a courtier. “You may ask anything you like.”
“You didn’t like me from the start,” Adam said. It was true, but he didn’t know why. Oversleeping hardly deserved the death sentence. “You disliked and resented - perhaps even hated - me. You cursed me and ...”
“Hexed you,” Lilith corrected, coldly.
“Why?” Adam stopped and stared at her. “Why do you hate me?”
Lilith said nothing for a long moment. “I don’t hate you,” she said. “You simply don’t belong here.”
She started to walk, heading back up the road. Adam followed, a dozen questions running through his head. He didn’t belong ...? Master Pittwater had asked Master Landis to take Adam and Master Landis had agreed. Lilith ... Lilith didn’t have a say in it. Was that what she resented? Adam found it hard to believe. Apprentices were, legally, children. Lilith could no more boss Master Landis around than Adam could.
Adam paced her. “What makes you say that?”
“You have no magic,” Lilith said, flatly. “You cannot do even the simplest spells. All you can do is prepare ingredients and write spells, both of which I could do. Anyone could do, if they had magic. You just” - she scowled - “you just exist on our sufferance. You should not be here.”
“Heart’s Eye is for mundanes as well as magicians,” Adam said. He’d read the university prospectus very - very - carefully. “Lady Emily ...”
“Lady Emily is an idealist,” Lilith said, flatly. “I met her once, just before she left to take up her own apprenticeship. She doesn’t realise just how incompatible magicians and mundanes actually are. She has no grasp at all of the realities of the world.”
“And I suppose you do?” Adam couldn’t keep the mockery out of his voice, even though he knew just what she could do to him. “You know better than the Necromancer’s Bane?”
Lilith glared. Her hand raised - Adam braced himself to dodge - before she calmed herself. “What can you do,” she asked, “that I cannot do better?”
Father children, Adam thought.
He wasn’t dumb enough to say that out loud. Lilith would not have taken it calmly. Instead ... he tried to think of an answer. He knew plenty of magic theory, but Lilith presumably knew plenty herself. And she understood how magic worked on a level Adam would never be able to match. What little he could do would be easy for her to match, if she put in the time and effort. Adam was quite sure she knew precisely how to prepare potion ingredients. Master Pittwater had drilled Matt as well as Adam himself.
“I can find out,” Adam said. “Let me try.”
“You’re wasting your time,” Lilith said, darkly. A shadow crossed her face. “And Master Landis’s, too.”
“It’s his time to waste.” Adam met her eyes. “Let me try.”
“He isn’t sure himself,” Lilith mused. “He doesn’t know if you’ll be staying. He’s waiting to see if you’re truly useful or not.”
Adam winced. He wanted to believe she was lying, but ... it sounded true. Lilith didn’t strike him as a very good liar. It didn’t feel as if she’d ever had the need to learn. And ...
“Tell me,” Lilith said. “Why do you even want to be here? Why did you even want to be an apothecary’s apprentice?”
“Because ...” Adam knew the answer; he just found it hard to put into words. “Because I want to do something with my life.”
Lilith raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.
“There aren’t that many opportunities for someone like me, back home,” Adam told her, shortly. “The children follow in their parents’ footsteps. I ... I wanted to be something different, something special. And magic seemed a way out. Even if I couldn’t do magic myself, I could do something.”
And I wanted to find a place I might fit in, his thoughts added silently.
“There are very sharp limits to what you can do,” Lilith said. Her voice was carefully flat, as if something he’d said had touched her. “Everything you can do, I can do better.”
“Let me prove myself,” Adam said. “Give me time.”
Lilith smirked. “You don’t stand a chance.”
Adam held her eyes. “You want to bet on it?”
“Very well,” Lilith said. She leaned closer, so close he could have kissed her. He didn’t dare move. “I’ll give you two months. You impress me and I’ll withdraw all objection to your presence. You don’t” - she lowered her voice - “I’ll turn you into something small and slimy and drop you somewhere you’ll never be found.”
She grinned, then turned and sauntered off.
Adam watched her go, feeling sick. What the hell had he gotten himself into now?
Chapter Eight
Adam slept poorly.
It wasn’t until he’d gotten back to his room - Lilith hadn’t bothered to do more than just point him up the stairs before hurrying off - that he’d realised what he’d done. He’d made a bet he didn’t know how to win, yet dared not lose. He had no doubt Lilith hadn’t been joking when she’d threatened to turn him into a frog, then abandon him hundreds of miles from home. It was hard for a magician to make such a spell permanent and yet ... he had the feeling Lilith could do it. He remembered the dead frog in the pickle jar as he stumbled out of bed and felt his gorge rise. If she hadn’t been joking about that ...
His stomach twisted painfully as he looked at the clock and scowled. It was 0700. Lilith had told him to report to the lab - again - at 0900. She would pour scorn on him for being late, all the while badmouthing him to their master. He cursed under his breath as he stumbled into the shower and turned the water on, then stepped under the flow without bothering to wait for it to heat up. Showers were rare in Beneficence, outside the magical community. It was a sign of something, he was sure, that even a guest room at Heart’s Eye had a private shower for its occupant. He washed himself clean, relying on the water to wake him completely, then dried and dressed himself in his apprentice robes. Lilith might think he was no more an apprentice than he was a magician, but Adam knew better. He might not be a normal apprentice - and there were limits to what he could do - yet he was still an apprentice.
