Read The Alchemist's Touch Online

Authors: Garrett Robinson

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Epic, #Sword & Sorcery

The Alchemist's Touch (14 page)

“Please,
do not say that word.”
 

“What did you do to invite Lilith’s wrath, Ebon?” Theren asked, ignoring Kalem.
 

He shrugged, secretly pleased that at least she was no longer calling him
goldbag
. “I only met her the day before last. She seemed to hate me from the start, though as you heard, she did not learn my family’s name until yesterday. Mayhap she only meant to mock me at first, because I…that is, I am…”

Theren frowned. “What is it? Come, spit it out.”

Kalem looked at her, lips twisting. “He is untrained. His father never let him study magic.”

Theren stared. “You cannot be serious.”

“I wish I were not. The moment my father learned the truth, he forbid me from ever trying it again. My valet was required to report back if I was ever seen trying a spell. I managed the testing spell again two days ago, but it did not work when I tried it yesterday. The same was true this morning.”

“What did Credell say when you told him?” said Kalem.
 

Ebon stabbed his spoon into the soup, and splashed some onto the table. “It was hard to tell around all of his gibbering. He is more frightened of me than of a viper in his bed. At this rate I shall never be an alchemist.”

“Transmuter,” said Kalem.

“Wine,” said Theren, to a loud groan from Kalem. Then she snorted at Ebon. “Poor little goldbag. You know, do you not, that some of us do not have a family name to help us in our training?”

He glared at her. “My name has not helped me at all. If anything, it has made things worse.”

“Spare me.” She dismissed him with a wave. “The Dean is a Drayden, and no doubt some distant cousin of yours.” Her sharp eyes narrowed, leaned forwards with interest, and stopped her bowl from spinning. Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Say. You could appeal to him for special permissions. We could leave the Academy after hours if we wanted. Mayhap you could have him speak to my instructor, to teach me higher spells.”

“You misunderstand his view of me. He only sees me out of pompous vanity, and some small sense of duty to my aunt. And his visit made Credell’s treatment all the more difficult to bear.”

Theren glared at him. “Poor little goldbag,” she repeated, leaning back, her eyes glowing as she magically lifted her fork and spoon, sending them into her bowl with a
clunk.

“I wish I were an elementalist,” Kalem said, eyeing her spells with envy. “Or a mentalist, even. How wonderful it must be to have such power. Transmutation often seems the weakest of the branches.”

Theren shrugged. “I will not deny that it can be amusing.”

Ebon, too, was impressed by her effortless command. Watching Theren lift her bowl with only the movement of her fingers, he was struck by an idea. “Theren—could you teach me?”

She blinked at him, the glow in her eyes dying. “Teach you what?”

“Magic. Kalem means to help me learn my spells, but you are more advanced than he. In fact, you could help us both.”

Kalem and Theren gawked at each other before looking back to Ebon. “Sky above,” Theren said. “You know
nothing
of magic.”

His cheeks burning, Ebon ducked. “I have told you as much already.”

“You said so, yes, but…” Theren chuckled. “Oh, this is rich indeed. I was determined not to pity you, Ebon, but you test my limits.”

Ebon slammed his hand on the table and rattled his bowl. “Stop your mockery. Tell me what I said wrong.”

Her eyes flashed in anger. Kalem quickly put a hand on Ebon’s arm, and spoke with a slow patience that grated his nerves. “The different branches are utterly unlike each other. Theren could no more teach you magic than a bird could instruct you to fly.”

“I do not understand,” said Ebon, brow furrowing. “Magic is magic. Does it not all share the same source?”

Theren shook her head sadly, and Kalem quickly continued. “Mayhap, but it becomes different by the time we are able to use it. Elementalism is chiefly cast through speech, mentalism through the eyes. Therianthropy takes place in the mind, and transmutation is cast through the hands.”

“But we all envision our spells as we cast them,” said Ebon. “Do they not all stem from the mind?”

Kalem’s lips pressed together, and he looked helplessly at Theren. Again she shook her head. “Yes and no. It is…well, it is difficult to explain, even for me. Even, I sometimes think, for our instructors. I can tell you only that once you have attained command of your gift, it comes ever more naturally. Likely you do not remember learning to walk, but you have seen babies trying to master it. They try and try, and yet cannot keep their balance. Then, one day, they are able to take their first steps. From then on, they simply…walk. You do it without thinking now—but could you explain it to an infant?”

“And transmutation is to mentalism as walking is to a fish’s swimming,” put in Kalem, “or like a bird’s learning to fly.”

Ebon shook his head miserably. “I still do not understand.”

Kalem put a hand on his shoulder and smiled brightly. “I shall do my best to teach you. Soon you will turn wood to stone as though it were pouring wine into a goblet.”

“I tried that this morning, as well. I fetched a wooden rod, and even brought it with me.” Ebon sighed and pulled it from his robes. “Yet it is still wooden, and I cannot seem to grasp the first thing about turning it otherwise.”

“You will learn it soon,” said Kalem.

“I hope so,” groused Ebon. “Just now, I feel beset on all sides. My instructor is afraid of me, the Dean only makes it worse, and for some reason I cannot comprehend, a Yerrin girl has decided to make me her own personal whipping-boy. Finding I cannot use magic after all would only seem to fit the pattern.”

The rod was tugged from his grip by an invisible hand as Theren’s eyes glowed once more. It spun before her eyes as she pursed her lips. “Well, I do not envy you. Learning my first magic after the testing spell seemed to take ages. But it came easier after that.” Suddenly her glow died away, and the rod fell to the table. She leaned forwards with interest, while Ebon snatched the rod before it could roll off and across the floor. “Say. Mayhap we can solve one of your problems, at least. You have started some quarrel with Lilith, or the quarrel has come to you regardless. How should you like to repay her for shaming you?”

“Theren,” said Kalem. His voice held a tone of warning. But Ebon leaned towards her, his interest piqued.

“I do not wish to invite the instructors’ wrath for fighting.”

“Fighting,”
said Theren with a quick shake of her head. “Sky above, nothing so crass. Only…she has the best of you in magic, yes? Yet you have strengths. Your family name is stronger than hers, and your pockets are deeper. And you have me.” Her teeth flashed in a grin.

“Ebon, this is a terrible idea,” said Kalem.

“You have not even heard it.”

“Say on, then,” said Ebon.

“Not here,” she said, looking about as though someone might be listening. “But let us gather together after the day’s studies, and we shall see what might be done.”

“Why?” said Kalem, eyes narrowing at her. “Why would you help him fight Lilith?”

Theren only shrugged. “She and I have had our own tussles in the past. Surely you can imagine how someone like her might have more than one foe.”

A bell clanged, reverberating about the dining hall. “Well, let us go to the library,” said Kalem. “And I shall do my best to help you learn your spells, and forget all about this foolish plan of Theren’s.”

“Farewell,” said Theren. “I shall see you this evening. And know this, Ebon: I have not forgotten my plans for you. Some day soon, you will speak to the Dean on our behalf.” She fixed him with a stern look and turned to go.

“She left her dishes,” grumbled Kalem, scooping them up from the table.

Ebon realized later that he had not the faintest idea where to find Theren after their studies. But he need not have worried. When he and Kalem made for the dormitories, they found Theren waiting for them in the hall just outside the library. She stood on one foot and leaned against the wall, arms folded, but she straightened as soon as she saw them.

“There you two are. It took you long enough. Don’t tell me you are bookworms as well as being goldbags. I can only forgive so many flaws.”

“Theren, I have been thinking,” said Kalem. “Perhaps all that is required here is a calm, measured conversation with Lilith. I am certain that she and Ebon can work out their differences, if only—”

She ignored him, falling into step beside Ebon and speaking so abruptly that Kalem fell to silence. “Allow me to instruct you in the manner of your revenge. I am quite proud of this idea. It relies for its success on the general prudishness of all you wealthy children of merchants.”

“Prudishness?” said Kalem.

“You nobles, royalty and merchants alike, are so concerned with concealing yourselves,” explained Theren. “Any commoner in the city or the forest thinks nothing of shedding some clothing on a hot day. But you would rather sit sweating in your carriages than reveal so much as your chest. In high circles, I am given to believe that being caught half-naked is the height of embarrassment.”

“Well, certainly!” said Kalem indignantly. “You cannot tell me you’d be all right with walking about naked. Our bodies are for husbands and wives and lovers.”

“Spoken like a true goldbag,” sneered Theren. “And so, I should say, does Lilith believe.”

Ebon thought of Adara, and crimson flooded his cheeks. But he said only, “I am listening.”

“You should be watching instead. Lilith will be in the common room by now.”

So saying, she led them on through the halls and up the narrow staircase towards the dormitories. When they reached the door leading to his common room, Ebon balked. But Theren gripped his shoulder with an easy smile.

“Now, then. All you must do is enter the room and speak with Lilith, and I will take care of the rest.”

“She dislikes me enough already,” said Ebon. “She will likely set my robe on fire, if she thinks she can get away with it.”

Theren shrugged. “Mayhap. But you will not have to suffer her torments long. I promise you that.”

“Why will you not come with us, then?” said Kalem.

Theren’s eyes hardened. “Because if she sees me enter with you, she might be less inclined to torment you.”

“Oh, well, that
is
reassuring,” said Ebon.

“Come now. You may be a goldbag, but you do not strike me as a coward. Go, brave warriors! To battle!”

She opened the door and shoved them inside, slamming it behind them. The room was filled with students, some sitting in the many chairs and couches, others standing beside them. The sharp noise of the door drew every eye, and for a moment the room was filled with perfect silence.

“Er…” said Ebon, his cheeks flushing. “Good evening.”

“The jester has arrived!” Lilith’s already too-familiar voice sang out from the other end of the room. “Fellow students, our evening’s entertainment is here, and not a moment too soon.”

She sat in a broad leather armchair as though it were a throne. Oren and Nella completed the picture, standing to either side of her like attendants. At her words, every student averted their gaze. Ebon was clearly the mouse in this game, and none of the others had any wish to attract the attention of the cat.

“Well met, Lilith,” said Ebon. He wondered if he should go to her directly, or if he should act as if he were going towards his dormitory. Theren wanted him to speak to Lilith, but would it not be suspicious if he did so directly?

“And you have brought your little plaything along,” said Lilith, nodding towards Kalem. “You must promise to keep him around. Two jesters are twice the fun, after all.”

With a sigh, Ebon made his way across the room to her. Until Theren made her move, they would have to keep Lilith’s attention. As they drew up before her, Kalem stepped forth and offered his hand. “Er, ah…well met. We have not been introduced. I am Kalem, of the…”

“Away, whelp. I saw enough of you last night—or at least, what little there is to see.” said Lilith. She waved a hand dismissively, and Kalem stepped aside as if she had moved him with mind magic. Her eyes fixed on Ebon. “So. Here he is. The jester of the family
Drayden.

She said the name loud enough to be heard throughout the room. From the corners of his eyes, Ebon saw that the few students brave enough to look at him quickly turned away.

“I am no jester.”

“Yet I find you laughable. And what other purpose does a jester have?” She smiled at him, and then at Kalem. “The two of you are a remarkable pairing. A royal son whose family has great power, and no coin. And a merchant son whose family has great coin, but whose power wanes across the nine lands. What a sight.”

“You know nothing of my family,” said Ebon, surprised at the fervor in his words. Anger made his stomach clench and the back of his neck prickle. He almost did not hear the sound of the common room door opening behind him, and then closing again a moment later.

Lilith heard it not at all. “Who does not know of the family Drayden?” she mocked. “So dark and terrible a name. Yet what have you lot done lately? You sit in your desert halls, planning trade routes and scrimping your coins. How the mighty have fallen. It is said that your grandfather ruled Idris with an iron fist, the royal family serving as his puppets. Your dear aunt must not have the spine for power.”

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