The Wise Man's Fear tkc-2, page 13
part #2 of The Kingkiller Chronicle Series
“Can I see the bell?” I asked.
She handed it over. It looked normal at first glance, but when I turned it upside down I saw some tiny sygaldry on the inner surface of the bell.
“He isn’t eavesdropping,” I said, handing it back. “There’s another bell downstairs that rings in time with this one.”
“How?” She asked, then answered her own question. “Magic?”
“You could call it that.”
“Is that the sort of thing you do over there?” She jerked her head in the direction of the river and the University beyond. “It seems a little . . . tawdry.”
“It’s the most frivolous use of sygaldry I’ve ever seen,” I said.
Denna burst out laughing. “You sound so offended,” she said. Then, “It’s called sygaldry?”
“Making something like that is called artificing,” I said. “Sygaldry is writing or carving the runes that make it work.”
Denna’s eyes lit up at this. “So it’s a magic where you write things down?” she asked, leaning forward in her chair. “How does it work?”
I hesitated. Not only because it was a huge question, but because the University has very specific rules about sharing Arcanum secrets. “It’s rather complicated,” I said.
Luckily, at that moment there was another knock on the door and our chocolate arrived in steaming cups. My mouth watered at the smell of it. The man set the tray on a nearby table and left without a word.
I sipped and smiled at the thick sweetness of it. “It’s been years since I’ve had chocolate,” I said.
Denna lifted her cup and looked around the room. “It’s strange to think some people live their whole lives like this,” she mused.
“It’s not to your liking?” I asked, surprised.
“I like the chocolate and the harp,” she said. “But I could do without the bell and a whole room just for sitting.” Her mouth curved into the beginning of a frown. “And I hate knowing someone is set to guard me, like I’m a treasure someone might try to steal.”
“You’re not to be treasured, then?”
She narrowed her eyes over the top of her cup, as if she wasn’t sure how serious I was. “I don’t fancy being under lock and key,” she clarified with a grim note in her voice. “I don’t mind being given rooms, but they aren’t really mine if I’m not free to come and go.”
I raised an eyebrow at that, but before I could say anything she waved her hand dismissively. “It’s not like that really,” she sighed. “But I don’t doubt Kellin is informed of my comings and goings. I know the porter tells him who comes calling. It rankles a bit is all.” She gave a crooked smile. “I suppose that seems terribly ungrateful, doesn’t it?”
“Not at all,” I said. “When I was younger, my troupe traveled everywhere. But every year we would spend a few span at our patron’s estate, performing for his family and his guests.”
I shook my head at the memory. “Baron Greyfallow was a gracious host. We sat at his own table. He gave us gifts . . .” I trailed off, remembering a regiment of tiny lead soldiers he’d given me. I shook my head clear of the thought. “But my father hated it. Climbed the walls. He couldn’t tolerate the feeling of being at someone’s beck and call.”
“Yes!” Denna said. “That’s exactly it! If Kellin says he might pay me a visit on such and such evening, suddenly I feel I’ve had one foot nailed to the floor. If I leave I’m being obstinate and rude, but if I stay I feel like a dog waiting by the door.”
We sat for a moment in silence. Denna twirled the ring on her finger absentmindedly, sunlight catching the pale blue stone.
“Still,” I said, looking around. “They are nice rooms.”
“They’re nice when you’re here,” she said.
Several hours later, I climbed a narrow flight of stairs behind a butcher’s shop. There was a faint, pervasive smell of rancid fat from the alley below, but I was smiling. An afternoon with Denna entirely to myself was a rare treat, and my step was surprisingly light for someone about to make a deal with a demon.
I knocked on the solid wooden door at the top of the steps and waited. No guild moneylender would trust me with a bent penny, but there are always folk willing to lend money. Poets and other romantics call them copper hawks, or sharps, but gaelet is the better term. They are dangerous people, and wise folk steer well clear of them.
The door opened a crack, then swung wide, revealing a young woman with a pixie face and strawberry-blonde hair. “Kvothe!” Devi exclaimed. “I worried I might not see you this term.”
I stepped inside, and Devi bolted the door behind me. The large, windowless room smelled pleasantly of cinnas fruit and honey, a refreshing change from the alley.
One side of the room was dominated by a huge canopy bed, its dark curtains drawn. On the other side was a fireplace, a large wooden desk, and a standing bookshelf three-quarters full. I wandered over to eye the titles while Devi locked and barred the door.
“Is this copy of Malcaf new?” I asked.
“It is,” she said walking over to stand beside me. “A young alchemist who couldn’t settle his debt let me pick through his library in order to square things between us.” Devi carefully pulled the book from the shelf, revealing Vision and Revision in gold leaf on the cover. She looked up at me, grinning impishly. “Have you read it?”
“I haven’t,” I said. I’d wanted to study it for admissions but hadn’t been able to find a copy in the Stacks. “Just heard about it.”
Devi looked thoughtful for a moment, then handed it to me. “When you’ve finished, come back and we’ll discuss it. I’m woefully devoid of interesting conversation these days. If we have a decent argument, I might let you borrow another.”
Once the book was in my hands, she tapped the cover lightly with a finger. “This book is worth more than you are.” She said without a hint of playfulness in her voice. “If it comes back damaged, there will be an accounting.”
“I’ll be very careful,” I said.
Devi nodded, then turned and walked past me toward the desk. “Right then, on to business.” She sat down. “Cutting it a little close, aren’t you?” she asked. “Tuition needs to be paid before noon tomorrow.”
“I live a dangerous and exciting life,” I said as I wandered over and took a seat across from her. “And delightful as I find your company, I was hoping to avoid your services this term.”
“How do you like tuition as a Re’lar?” she asked knowingly. “How hard did they hit you?”
“That’s a rather personal question,” I said.
Devi gave me a frank look. “We are about to enter into a rather personal arrangement,” she pointed out. “I hardly feel I’m overstepping myself.”
“Nine and a half,” I said.
She snorted derisively. “I thought you were supposed to be all manner of clever. I never got higher than seven when I was a Re’lar.”
“You had access to the Archives,” I pointed out.
“I had access to vast stores of intellect,” she said matter-of-factly. “Plus, I am cute as a button.” She gave a grin that brought out dimples in both her cheeks.
“You are shiny as a new penny,” I admitted. “No man can hope to stand against you.”
“Some women have trouble keeping their feet as well,” she said. Her grin changed slightly, moving from adorable to impish and then well past the border into wicked.
Not having the slightest idea how to respond to that, I moved in a safer direction. “I’m afraid I need to borrow four talents.” I said.
“Ah,” Devi said. Suddenly businesslike, she folded her hands atop the desk. “I’m afraid I’ve made a few changes to my business recently,” she said. “Currently, I am only extending loans of six talents or more.”
I didn’t bother trying to hide my dismay. “Six talents? Devi, that extra debt will be a millstone around my neck.”
She gave a sigh that sounded at least slightly apologetic. “Here’s the trouble. When I make a loan, I run certain risks. I risk losing my investment if my debtor dies or tries to run. I run the risk they’ll attempt to report me. I run the risk of being brought up against the iron law, or worse, the moneylender’s guild.”
“You know I’d never try something like that, Devi.”
“The fact remains,” Devi continued, “my risk is the same, no matter if the loan is small or large. Why should I take those risks for small loans?”
“Small?” I asked. “I could live for a year on four talents!”
She tapped the desk with a finger, pursing her mouth. “Collateral?”
“The usual,” I said, giving her my best smile. “My boundless charm.”
Devi snorted indelicately. “For boundless charm and three drops of blood you can borrow six talents at my standard rate. Fifty percent interest over a two-month term.”
“Devi,” I said ingratiatingly. “What am I going to do with the extra money?”
“Throw a party,” she suggested. “Spend a day in the Buckle. Find yourself a nice game of high-stakes faro.”
“Faro,” I said, “is a tax on people who can’t calculate probabilities.”
“Then run bank and collect the tax,” she said. “Buy yourself something pretty and wear it next time you come in to see me.” She looked me up and down with dangerous eyes. “Maybe then I’ll be willing to cut you a deal.”
“How about six talents for a month at twenty-five percent?” I asked.
Devi shook her head, not unkindly. “Kvothe, I respect the impulse to bargain, but you don’t have any leverage. You’re here because you’re over a barrel. I’m here to capitalize on that situation.” She spread her hands in a helpless gesture. “That’s how I make my living. The fact that you have a sweet face doesn’t really enter into it.”
Devi gave me a serious look. “Conversely, if a guild moneylender would give you the time of day, I wouldn’t expect you to come here simply because I’m pretty and you like the color of my hair.”
“It is a lovely color,” I said. “We fiery types should really stick together.”
“We should,” she agreed. “I propose we stick together at fifty percent interest over a two month term.”
“Fine.” I said, slumping back into my chair. “You win.”
Devi gave me a winsome smile, dimples showing again. “I can only win if we were both actually playing.” She opened a drawer in the desk, bringing out a small glass bottle and a long pin.
I reached out to take them, but instead of sliding them across the desk, she gave me a thoughtful look. “Now that I think of it, there might be another option.”
“I’d love another option,” I admitted.
“The last time we talked,” Devi said slowly, “you implied you had a way into the Archives.”
I hesitated. “I did imply that.”
“That information would be worth quite a bit to me,” she said overcasually. Though she tried to hide it, I could see a fierce, lean hunger in her eyes.
I looked down at my hands and didn’t say anything.
“I’ll give you ten talents right now,” Devi said bluntly. “Not a loan. I’ll buy the information outright. If I get caught in the Stacks, I never learned it from you.”
I thought of everything I could do with ten talents. New clothes. A lute case that wasn’t about to fall to pieces. Paper. Gloves for the coming winter.
I sighed and shook my head.
“Twenty talents,” Devi said. “And guild rates on any loans you want in the future.”
Twenty talents would mean half a year of worry-free tuition. I could pursue my own projects in the Fishery rather than slaving away at deck lamps. I could buy tailored clothes. Fresh fruit. I could use a laundry rather than wash my clothes myself.
I drew a reluctant breath. “I—”
“Forty talents,” Devi said hungrily. “Guild rates. And I will take you to bed.”
For forty talents I could buy Denna her own half-harp. I could . . .
I looked up and saw Devi staring at me from across the desk. Her lips were wet, her pale blue eyes intense. She shifted her shoulders back and forth in the slow, unconscious motion of a cat before it pounces.
I thought of Auri, safe and happy in the Underthing. What would she do if her tiny kingdom was invaded by a stranger?
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I can’t. Getting in is . . . complicated. It involves a friend, and I don’t think they’d be willing.” I decided to ignore the other part of her offer, as I hadn’t the slightest idea what to say about it.
There was a long, tense moment. “Goddamn you,” Devi said at last. “You sound like you’re telling the truth.”
“I am,” I said. “It’s unsettling, I know.”
“Goddamn.” She scowled as she pushed the bottle and pin across the desk.
I pricked the back of my hand and watched the blood well up and roll down my hand to fall into the bottle. After three drops I tipped the pin into the mouth of the bottle as well.
Devi swabbed some adhesive around the stopper and drove it angrily into the bottle. Then she reached into a drawer and pulled out a diamond stylus. “Do you trust me?” She asked as she etched a number into the glass. “Or do you want this sealed?”
“I trust you,” I said. “But I’d like it sealed all the same.”
She melted a daub of sealing wax onto the top of the bottle. I pressed my talent pipes into it, leaving a recognizable impression.
Reaching into another drawer, Devi brought out six talents and clattered them onto the desk. The motion might have seemed petulant if her eyes hadn’t been so hard and angry.
“I’m getting in there one way or another,” she said with a chill edge to her voice. “Talk to your friend. If you’re the one that helps me, I’ll make it worth your time.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Haven
I returned to the University in good spirits despite the burden of my new debt. I made a few purchases, gathered up my lute, and headed out over the rooftops.
From the inside, Mains was a nightmare to navigate: a maze of irrational hallways and stairways leading nowhere. But moving across its jumbled rooftops was easy as anything. I made my way to a small courtyard that at some point in the building’s construction had become completely inaccessible, trapped like a fly in amber.
Auri wasn’t expecting me, but this was the first place I’d met her, and on clear nights she sometimes came out to watch the stars. I checked to make sure the classrooms overlooking the courtyard were dark and empty, then I brought out my lute and began to tune it.
I had been playing for almost an hour when I heard a rustling movement in the overgrown courtyard below. Then Auri appeared, scurrying up the overgrown apple tree and onto the roof.
She ran toward me, her bare feet skipping lightly across the tar, her hair blowing behind her. “I heard you!” she said as she came close. “I heard you all the way down in Vaults!”
“I seem to remember,” I said slowly, “that I was going to play music for someone.”
“Me!” She held both her hands close to her chest, grinning. She moved from foot to foot, almost dancing with her eagerness. “Play for me! I have been as patient as two stones together,” she said. “You are just in time. I could not be as patient as three stones.”
“Well,” I said hesitantly. “I suppose it all depends on what you’ve brought me.”
She laughed, rising up onto the balls of her feet, her hands still together, close to her chest. “What did you bring me?”
I knelt and began to untie my bundle. “I’ve brought you three things,” I said.
“How traditional,” she said, grinning. “You are quite the proper young gentleman tonight.”
“I am.” I held up a heavy dark bottle.
She took it with both hands. “Who made it?”
“Bees,” I said. “And brewers in Bredon.”
Auri smiled. “That’s three bees,” she said, and set the bottle down by her feet. I brought out a round loaf of fresh barley bread. She reached out and touched it with a finger, then nodded approvingly.
Last I brought out a whole smoked salmon. It had cost four drabs by itself, but I worried Auri didn’t get enough meat in whatever she managed to scrounge up when I wasn’t around. It would be good for her.
Auri looked down at it curiously, tilting her head to look into its single staring eye. “Hello fish,” she said. Then she looked back up at me. “Does it have a secret?”
I nodded. “It has a harp instead of a heart.”
She looked back down at it. “No wonder it looks so surprised.”
Auri took the fish out of my hands and laid it carefully on the roof. “Now stand up. I have three things for you, as is only fair.”
I came to my feet and she held out something wrapped in a piece of cloth. It was a thick candle that smelled of lavender. “What’s inside of it?” I asked.
“Happy dreams,” she said. “I put them there for you.”
I turned the candle over in my hands, a suspicion forming. “Did you make this yourself?”
She nodded and gave a delighted grin. “I did. I am terribly clever.”
I tucked it carefully into one of the pockets of my cloak. “Thank you, Auri.”
Auri grew serious. “Now close your eyes and bend down so I can give you your second present.”
Puzzled, I closed my eyes and bent at the waist, wondering if she had made me a hat as well.
I felt her hands on either side of my face, then she gave me a tiny, delicate kiss in the middle of my forehead.
Surprised, I opened my eyes. But she was already standing several steps away, her hands clasped nervously behind her back. I couldn’t think of anything to say.
Auri took a step forward. “You are special to me,” she said seriously, her face grave. “I want you to know I will always take care of you.” She reached out tentatively and wiped at my cheeks. “No. None of that tonight. This is your third present. If things are bad, you can come and stay with me in the Underthing. It is nice there, and you will be safe.”
