Guild Mage: Apprentice-Chapter 92. Celestria Ward

Liv’s friends welcomed her back to the stands with congratulations and, in the case of Rosamund and Cade, quick hugs. It didn’t escape her notice that Wren had arrived, at some point during the duel, but Liv had greater priorities at the moment.

“Tarts, please,” she said to Thora, and accepted the package of desserts from the Crab and Gull, placing it in her lap so that she could unwrap the cheesecloth. The berry tarts were long since cold, but she took a big bite out of one anyway, and tasted a burst of flavor on her tongue from the mana-infused blueberries.

“How many more opponents does she have?” Tephania asked, in her quiet voice.

“This round winnows it down to four first years remaining,” Cade explained. “Liv’s next fight will determine whether she’s in the last duel or not.”

“You better be,” Rosamund broke in, but she was smiling. “You beat me, so you’d better beat everyone.”

“You’re a third year, aren’t you, Cade?” Arjun asked, and next to Liv, Cade nodded. “How many duels did you win, when it was your turn?”

“None,” Cade said, in a hard voice. “I didn’t put myself forward.”

“Why not?” Tephania asked.

“His word of power isn’t well suited to sparring,” Liv said, answering for him, feeling a thrill at this shared secret with him. She reached over to take Cade’s hand in her own, and gave a little squeeze, trying to comfort him silently. She remembered quite clearly the cages of livestock that his father had kept in Freeport, for training, and how complicated Cade’s feelings were about his family’s magic.

Thankfully, no one pressed for more information. Sidonie must have known: she was in the same year as Cade, after all, and she was the one who changed the topic. “Who are you most worried about, Liv?”

Liv released Cade’s hand to take a drink from her wineskin. In the training yard, the girl wearing all the silver bracelets was facing off against a boy that she didn’t recognize. “Her word is interesting,” Liv said, motioning with the wineskin. “I expect she can do a lot of the same things I can, but not everything. And she needs to carry around her supplies wherever she goes.”

“Less flexible,” Sidonie agreed, with a nod. “But then again, are you wearing silver?”

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Liv winced. “There’s silver inlay in my wand,” she admitted. “Rust it, and the guild ring. You think she could affect them?” As they watched, the blue circle of magic flared to light around the two competitors. The boy began chanting, but the girl with her silver was quicker and more confident.

They all watched as the bracelets on her wrists and the rings on her fingers merged together into a blob of liquid silver, then flattened into a shield that hovered in the air in front of the girl. When the boy sent what seemed to be darts of shadow in her direction, the silver shield easily deflected them.

“I’d rather plan as if she could, than assume that she can’t and be wrong,” Sidonie remarked. Liv picked up a second tart and stuffed it into her mouth: she was going to need every ring of mana that she could get.

“Here,” Cade said, reaching into his purse. He withdrew a black, opalescent pearl, the size of an acorn, and put it into Liv’s hand. She could immediately feel the mana thrumming within it.

“What’s this?” Liv asked, once she’d swallowed.

“A mana-pearl from the tidal rift,” Cade explained. “They come from oysters that live in the shoals. One of the more valuable things one can find during a king tide.”

“Are you certain you don’t need it?” Liv asked him.

Cade shook his head. “I’ll refill it later.”

Liv cupped the pearl in both hands, and allowed the mana to rise up out of it in golden-blue wisps of light, before sinking into her skin. “Two rings?” she guessed.

Cade nodded. In the training yard, the shield of molten silver had broken apart into three spikes, which shot forward at the boy who had commanded shadows. He flinched back, with a panicked cry, and shouted, “I surrender!”

“He’s gonna have to grow bigger balls than that if he wants to stick around here,” Rosamund remarked. At the girl’s command, the silver returned to her, reformed into rings and bracelets, and became still.

“The victor is Arianell Seton,” Master Jurian declared, and the two students returned to their seats. “We will have one more match, and then break for an early luncheon. All students who will be competing in the afternoon are invited to eat with the professors, at the high table.”

Liv balled up the dirty cheesecloth her tarts had been wrapped in, and handed it to Thora. “How is your arm feeling?” Arjun asked her.

“Better than yesterday,” Liv said. “It isn’t bad.”

Arjun frowned. “That was a particularly brutal injury. Even with all the healing you had, it must still be hurting quite a bit.”

“I suppose so?” Liv said, and shrugged. “I broke a lot of bones as a child,” she explained, while the last two students were called before Master Jurian. “No one realized that I needed different food until I was twelve years old. It meant my bones were fragile. If I fell down the stairs, I broke something. My hip, when I was seven. There were a lot of things I wasn’t allowed to do. But when you’re getting hurt all the time, you sort of get used to it.”

“What do you mean?” Tephania asked.

“Well, you can’t just lie in bed all day, even if it hurts,” Liv told her. “So you learn to put it aside and get on with your life. This isn’t the kind of pain that bothers me. It’s just normal, everyday pain.”

“Everyday pain?” Arjun narrowed his eyes at her. “There isn’t supposed to be everyday pain. If something is hurting, that means there’s a problem with your body, and it needs to be seen to.”

“Maybe for most people?” Liv said. “But when you’ve got it all the time - or close to all the time - you just have to ignore it, or you’ll never do anything.

“That’s awful, Liv,” Tephania said. Her eyes were so big that Liv wondered whether the girl was going to cry.

“Well, not anymore,” Liv hurried to assure her. “Ever since I started getting the right food, my bones are much better. This is the first time I’ve broken anything in years.” She almost said, ‘unless you count my eardrums,’ and then decided that Tephania didn’t need to hear that. It would only upset her more.

“Liv,” Arjun said, in a tone she’d learned to recognize from old Master Cushing, and later Mistress Trafford, “is there anything hurting you right now? Besides your arm?”

“Well, I just came here after culling a rift,” Liv said. “So I’ve got a few scrapes and bruises. The skin on my arms is healed up now, and my ears.” She winced, hoping that Tephania wouldn’t notice her slip up, and that Arjun wouldn’t ask. “I suppose my shoulders are a bit sore - probably from getting my arm twisted behind my back. But that’s nothing.”

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“Lean forward,” Cade said, rising.

Liv wasn’t certain why, but she followed his instructions, and then felt him squeeze in behind her and place his hands on her shoulder blades. “What are you: oh!” Cade’s thumbs dug into knots in her muscles, places she hadn’t even realized that she was stiff or sore. Liv closed her eyes, and let her head loll forward, limp.

“Sidonie, could you take notes on this match?” Wren asked. “We’ve lost her.”

Liv just moaned, and then resolved to ignore them.

☙

Wren was absolutely correct: Liv didn’t see a moment of the fourth match of the morning. By the time she joined the professors at the high table in the great hall, however, her back muscles felt more relaxed than they had in days. Maybe months.

Liv was led to a seat between Mistress Annora and Master Norris; across the table, she recognized Celestria Ward, with her midnight-black hair pulled back in a bun. “Your word is interesting,” Liv said, while platters heaped with seafood were brought to the table. “May I ask what it is?”

The dark haired girl pursed her lips, considering for a moment. “You can ask after we fight,” she said. “Or if we don’t, when everything’s over. But I’m not telling you how to beat me before we even fight.”

“I suppose that’s fair enough,” Liv said.

“Here,” Professor Annora interrupted. “I don’t want you using that arm at all, Miss Brodbeck.” The professor filled Liv’s plate herself, with piles of steaming white fish in melted butter, and a small bowl of creamy lobster bisque.

Liv tried a spoonful, and sighed when she felt a surge of warm mana spread out from her belly. “Why aren’t the other meals like this?” she asked.

“Because we can’t afford to feed two hundred students mana-rich food at every meal,” Professor Norris said, from her other side. “Economics, Apprentice. Like so much, it’s about economics. The college pays for the professors to eat well, and the students to eat cheaply. If you want more: and if you have a wealthy family: you can make arrangements with merchants in town to provide food for special meals.”

“But isn’t that unfair?” Liv pressed, in between bites of fish and spoonfuls of soup. “It just puts the students who don’t come from the nobility, or from merchant families, at even more of a disadvantage.”

“You realize you’re wearing more enchanted items than just about anyone else in our class?” Celestria cut in, from across the table. “Don’t you live in High Hall? Even most of the nobles can’t stay there.”

Liv wanted to say that she’d earned what she had, but that wasn’t entirely true. While the bone for her wand was from a stag she’d hunted herself, she’d only been able to have it finished by spending a lot of coin. And her armor, she hadn’t paid for at all: it had been made for her by her father’s family armorer, Kaija. In all honesty, she owed most of what she had to either her father, or to Duchess Julianne: or even to Master Jurian, who’d arranged her admission to the college.

“It is a reality that some would prefer not to speak about,” Professor Norris said, “but those of us who focus on enchanting cannot ignore. Crafting enchantments is expensive. A family could live for a year on what we might spend to create a single staff, suit of armor, or sword. That casque you brought in, Apprentice, is a good example. You could probably sell it for enough to buy a small home.”

Across the table and two places down, Professor Jurian leaned in to join the conversation. “The world is unfair,” he said. “Even so, this college is one of the few places where it is possible to come from nothing, and make something of yourself. With wit, determination, and a lot of work.”

The strawberry-blonde girl with all the silver bangles: Arianell, Liv recalled: chose that moment to break in. “It’s the natural order of things,” she said. “Magic runs in families of quality. We are given these advantages so that we can protect the common folk from the danger of the rifts. There’s no point in trying to train peasants into mages; they’ll never be worth anything.”

Liv’s left hand tightened on her spoon. “I was born a peasant,” she blurted out. “One of the common folk. I grew up scrubbing out chamber pots and dirty dishes in the castle kitchen.”

“But you aren’t, are you?” Arianell countered. “We can all see it from your ears. One of your parents is Eldish, and that means you aren’t a commoner at all. That’s why you’ve got Lord Talbot mooning over you. Someone like him would never lower himself to a mere kitchen wench.”

Liv was off the bench and half to her feet before she realized what she was doing, and before Professor Norris stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“Save it for the duels,” he told her.

“It’s true, though,” Arianell continued. “And you wouldn’t be so angry if you didn’t know it. At least be honest with yourself.”

“That is enough,” Professor Jurian said. “You say there’s no point in training commoners, girl? Know this. I grew up on the streets of Carinthia with absolutely nothing. When I came to this college, I could barely read. Well, starting tomorrow, I’m going to be teaching you to fight. Why? Because I earned it. And if any noble brats think they can do better, I’m more than willing to teach you a lesson on the practice grounds.”

“My apologies, Professor,” Arianell Seton said, wisely backing off.

There was little in the way of conversation at that end of the table for the remainder of the meal.

☙

By the time the entire school had finished their meals and made it back down to the training yard, Liv felt she had enough mana to continue, so long as she wasn’t wasteful in her casting.

“What’s the count?” Sidonie asked.

“Nine rings,” Liv answered. “Between the tarts, the pearl, and the meal. And I have one spell loaded in the wand, as well.” Cade sat down on the bench next to her, again, but that awful girl’s words kept bouncing around Liv’s thoughts. If he’d first seen her scrubbing out a chamber pot, rather than on the beach at Freeport, would he have given her a second look?

The first match after lunch was Arianell against the boy who’d won while Cade was giving Liv a massage. Sidonie pouted a bit about her notes not being needed, but Liv was more concerned that the stuck-up girl would have more time to recover, while Liv was fighting her duel. And that would be against Celestria Ward, the girl who’d somehow entranced every one of her opponents thus far.

“Thora could run and get a candle,” Liv mused, while Master Jurian inspected what the first two duelists brought to their match. “I could stop up my ears.”

“It can’t be that simple,” Sidonie said. “It shouldn’t matter whether you hear her, or not: the word of power is still spoken.”

“Strike first and drop her,” Cade suggested. “Go for her throat, so that she can’t talk at all.”

“For once, I like the way lover-boy thinks,” Wren grumbled.

“I don’t want to kill her,” Liv said. “No, I’ve got a different idea.”

The boy facing Arianell: the only boy who’d made it to the final four, Liv observed: used a word of power that made him grow in bulk, until he was twice the size of a normal man, like a mana-beast. Then, he charged forward, clearly intending to grapple the raven-haired girl in front of him.

Arianell surrounded herself in a spiked ring of silver, so that when the boy’s massive arms closed around her, he only succeeded in impaling himself. When he let go, with a roar of pain, she forced her silver into a blade and put the tip under his chin.

“My turn, then,” Liv said, standing up and drawing her wand.

“You can do this,” Tephania urged her on.

“And without any further injuries, please,” Arjun remarked.

“The last kiss was good luck,” Liv told Cade, before she could second guess herself. This wasn’t Whitehill, after all. No one here cared. “Can I have another?” A moment with her eyes closed and their lips pressed together was almost enough to make her forget what had been said over luncheon, and then she was striding across the field, rolling her head from side to side. She felt loose, and ready.

“Neither of you are bringing new enchanted items to the duel, at this point, I presume?” Jurian asked them. Liv shook her head, and Celestria Ward did the same. “Very well, then we can skip that part. You should know the rules by now. Backs together, and then fifteen paces.”

Liv took extra long steps, having learned her lesson from the duel on the beach against the princess six years ago. “Turn!” Jurian called, and she spun about, wand ready in her left hand. “Begin!”

“Celet Manis!” Liv shouted, pointing her wand at the bare earth just in front of Celestria. At the same time, the dark-haired girl spoke her own invocation, and this time, Liv was close enough to hear it clearly.

“Æ’ea Venet,” Ward said, and Liv felt herself surrounded by a great pressure, as if she’d stepped across the threshold of a rift and into the shoals. She flinched, then focused on the girl across from her again. The duel. She had to finish the duel.

Celestria was easy to focus on, it turned out. Her skin was clear and smooth, the arch of her jaw delicate, her neck and collarbone elegant above her bodice. Liv found herself most fascinated by the girls’ lips, however. She wondered what it would be like to kiss them: would it feel like kissing Cade, or would it be different? Better, or worse?

Before she could think about what she was doing, Liv had lowered her wand and taken a halting step forward. She just had to find out. A single kiss, and then they could finish the duel. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips in anticipation.

Celestria Ward screamed as the soldier of ice Liv had conjured impaled her through the shoulder with a glistening, frozen spear. The pressure on Liv vanished, and she came back to herself as if from a dream. “I surrender!” the girl cried.

“Apprentice Brodbeck is the victor,” Jurian declared, to great applause. “Professor Annora, your skills are required.” The gray-haired healer had already rushed out onto the field by the time Liv felt she had enough control of herself to walk back to where her friends waited in the stands. She felt flushed and overheated, almost shivering with sensation. It was all she could do to get settled back in her seat, close her eyes, and try to shut out the world.