Guild Mage: Apprentice

Liv thought that she would have given just about anything to have a single friend in the garden right at that moment. She looked from face to face, and saw that the girls' expressions ranged from curiosity, to disinterest, to the sort of predatory look one might glimpse in the eyes of a hunting cat.

"I don't believe I've ever played this game before," Liv said. "Perhaps someone could explain the rules." At the very least, it would give her time to think.

"It's a game of intent," Princess Milisant said. "Surely your time in the guild has taught you a great deal about visualizing your intent, when using a word of power. I expect you're better than all of us. Make the most impressive flower, using your own word of power."

"What decides the winner?" Liv asked. "Size? Detail?"

"It's usually fairly obvious," Cecily Falkenrath said, strolling back up the stairs to the table, where she retrieved a cup of tea and took a sip. "When it isn't, we settle things with a vote at the end."

"Some of us," Triss Crosbie remarked, "don't have words that are very useful for the game. You can think of me as an impartial vote." She headed over to the table to snatch up a fruit tart of some kind.

"I'm not certain I know the word for flower," Liv said. "It's not really something I've studied." After all, what use was there, precisely, in a spell to make pretty flowers? Was that going to distract a stonebat, a violent drunk, or some sort of strange blood monster?

"Belia," Milisant offered. "You should be able to construct a spell based on that, shouldn't you?"

"That isn't flower, it's 'bowl," Liv protested.

"Actually, it can be used for either," a young girl in spectacles spoke up. "Not every word has a single meaning, even in the way we speak today. You can hear a dog bark, or scrape the bark off a tree, for instance. You can say someone rose from their seat, or that they plucked a rose. There's quite a few homonyms, actually, though I'm not certain Belia is a proper example, because there seems to be sort of a symbolic meaning, in that flowers hold nectar, while bowls hold something like soup-"

"Enough, Sidonie," the princess snapped. "No one wants to hear it." The girl in glasses wilted as easily as the grass under Cecily's finger. "The fact the word has more than one meaning is part of the game. People who don't know what they're doing mess it up."

"And what do I win?" Liv asked. "Bragging rights?"

"Millie's offered her first dance at the ball as a prize," Cecily said, from inside the pavilion. "So we're playing for our brothers, or cousins in some cases. I hope you win; Thurston has two left feet."

"Of couse, you don't have a brother, do you?" the princess asked Liv, as if it had just occurred to her. "We'll have to think of something else, I suppose. How about a new gown? I can't imagine you have very many."

Liv gritted her teeth, but did her best to keep her face neutral. "No need to change things for me," she said. "If I win, I'll choose one of these ladies to take the prize." Lady Julianne had told her to make friends, after all.

"Go ahead then," Princess Milisant urged.

Liv planted her staff in front of her shoes, and wrapped both hands around it. She closed her eyes and practiced her breathing exercises. She could use the calm, but she could also use a moment to compose the incantation in her mind and build the image of what she wanted. She knew just the flower, and she could picture a whole field of them in the meadows of the Aspen River Valley.

"Celet Belia," Liv began, holding out her staff to touch the ground in front of her. The sigils flared to life, silver-white, and, guided by her intent, a frozen stalk began to rise, rooted at the point where the butt of the staff touched the lawn. She built the stalk until it was chest high, then allowed five petals to flare out, each slightly pointed. Liv kept the ice thin there, but when she built the next layer, she thickened it to make the rounded inner petals as close to white as she could get. When she'd built the delicate stamen, rising up from the center, it was recognizably a blue columbine - to her, at least.

"Very nice," Triss commented, and scattered applause rang out from the small audience.

"I'm not finished," Liv said, and then let more mana spill out of her into the staff. "Celent Belium Venia Seg Encve Sekim." From two of the outer petals, tendrils of ice began to rise. Carefully, Liv shaped them into boots, legs that joined together in a torso, and then arms. One of the girls watching gasped, but Liv didn't let that distract her. It was just like making practice targets for Matthew in the yard, only smaller. Well, almost.

When she was finished, a miniature woman with long flowing hair and a sword held in each hand stood upon the blue columbine. Three more swords rose behind her, like birds about to strike, supported by the thinest stands of ice she could manage.

"Who is that?" Cecily asked, and Liv realized all of the girls had crowded around her. "It almost looks like you."

"My aunt," Liv said. "Or at least, how I imagine her. She died before I was born."

"Well, I think we know who the winner is," Triss said. No one raised an objection, though the princess looked as if she'd just sucked on a lemon. "You should try some of these tarts, Liv. Come on up."

"I will, thank you," she said. It was too warm for her sculpture to last; it was already sweating under the harvest sun. Still, it had been nice to see the look on the princess' face. She found a seat at the table, next to Triss, and picked out a pastry stuffed with red fruit preserves. It was pleasantly sweet when she took a bite.

"That was beautifully done," the girl in spectacles said, plopping down in the chair to Liv's left. "I'm Sidonie Corbett. My family's word of power isn't very good for that game, so I always have to watch, too," she remarked to Triss.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sidonie," Liv said. "I thought what you said was interesting, even if no one else did. I've only ever used Belia for bowl - well, until today. I'd love to compare notes with you sometime. Have you ever done any work with the future tense?"

"No!" Sidonie said with a gasp and a grin. "I'm not allowed to. Are you?"

"Master Grenfell let me try once," Liv admitted. "So that I could see how it worked. I'd love to experiment more."

A peal of laughter rang out from a cluster of girls surrounding the princess. One of them, a younger girl with honey-blonde hair, leaned across the table. "Is it true you're a peasant?" she asked Liv. "How did you get here, then?"

Liv repeated what Lady Julianne had told her to say. "The king has approved Baron and Lady Summerset's request to adopt me as their daughter," she said.

"Leave it to a bastard to take in a bastard," Princess Milisant said, slowly and deliberately. She met Liv's eyes the entire time, as if daring her to say something.

"Lady Julianne has been very kind to me," Liv said, refusing to look away. She was surprised at how angry she felt, all of a sudden.

"I'm sure she has," the princess said. "But I'm not saying anything that isn't true, am I? Julianne was born a bastard, to one of the king's mistresses. I'm surprised anyone was willing to marry her at all. Who was your mother, Liv? Another whore like hers? Who else would bear a half-breed?"

"Shut your mouth," Liv hissed. Before she'd even realized what she was doing, she'd stood up and leaned across the table. "You don't even know my mother."

"She clearly didn't teach you how to address those of higher rank," the blonde at Milisant's side said with a sneer. "You should get down on the ground right now and apologize. Maybe Milly will forgive you."

"Unless," the princess said, "the insult is too much for you to stand for. If you're going to pretend to be a noblewoman, you could at least try to settle this like one." Carefully and deliberately, she lifted a white glove from the table. Liv hadn't paid much attention to the hats, gloves, and purses piled up there, and now she frowned in confusion. The princess threw the glove down onto the floor of the pavilion, and then waited, silently.

"Stop it, Milly," Cecily said. "Look at her. She clearly doesn't even know what you're doing."

"It's a challenge," Triss Crosbie explained, from where she sat next to Liv. "If you pick up the glove, it means you're accepting."

"Don't do it," Sidonie warned, from Liv's other side.

"A duel," Liv repeated, her heart sinking. "With swords?"

"Challenged party chooses weapons, challenger picks time and place," Triss said. "You could choose magic, if you wanted."

"She won't," Princess Milisant said. "She's afraid, you can tell. Only a fool would duel a member of the royal family. What you should take from all this, Miss Brodbeck," she said, "is that you don't belong here. You don't know what you're doing, and you aren't welcome. Tell that dried up old bastard you refuse her offer, and then scamper home to whatever shit-stained hovel you came from."

With a cry of frustration, Liv bent over and picked up the glove. "Magic," she said, before she could think about what she was doing. Unsure what else to do, she threw the glove back onto the table, next to a pie.

The princess grinned. "Excellent. Tomorrow evening, on the north beach. Eleventh bell. Cecily, will you be my second?"

The dark haired girl tapped her finger against the table, frowned, and then shook her head. "It would't be appropriate. The Summersets are my father's vassals. I'll be a witness, though."

"Lady Howe?" Princess Milisant asked, turning to the blonde at her side.

"Gladly," the girl said. "Name your second, bastard."

"I'll do it," Triss said, rising from her chair. "Come along, Liv, we have things to talk about. Thank you hosting us, Princess. It was… eventful."

Liv allowed herself to be pulled away, past the melted lump of ice which was all that remained of her sculpture. For a moment, she thought Sidonie might follow them, but instead the spectacled girl lowered her eyes and remained in her chair. As soon as the footpath had taken them away from the pavilion, and placed a few ornamental trees between the two girls and the party, she couldn't stay silent any longer.

"I messed that up, didn't I?" Liv asked. "I gave her what she wanted. Lady Julianne just wanted me to come and listen, and now I'm going to cause her all sorts of problems. But that- that-"

"Bitch?" Triss offered.

"That bitch," Liv repeated. "I don't think I've ever used that word before. She just made me so angry!"

"You're lucky your brother is cute," Triss grumbled. "Tell me you at least know how to fight. You must, living all the way up north." She pulled Liv off to one side, where a wrought-iron bench was set in the shade of a massive oak.

"I've probably killed more monsters than anyone else at that stupid tea-party," Liv growled.

"If you've killed so much as one, you're likely right," Triss agreed. "You think they let the princess anywhere near an eruption? You know what she has killed, though? Two women in duels."

"Blood and shadows," Liv swore.

"What's worse," Triss said, "is that if you actually kill her, you're done for. The queen will have your head. So you need to hold back and still win, somehow."

"Let me guess. No one will care if she kills me," Liv said.

"You've got that right."

"What's her word of power, then," Liv asked.

"Words," Triss said.

"She has more than one?" Liv felt like more and more of an idiot with every new revelation.

"The whole royal family does," Triss explained. "Everyone knows she's got her grandmother's word, but that isn't your problem. It's Luc you're going to have to worry about. Lightning."

"How would you beat her?" Liv asked, after a moment.

"I'd choose swords," Triss said. "Never magic. I can't beat anyone in a magic duel."

"You'll get along just fine with Matthew, then," Liv complained bitterly. "He hates using his word. That's not an option for me, though. Lightning. What's the other word you were talking about?"

"House Sherard's word of power," Triss said. "Lets them talk to birds, and control them. See through their eyes, some people say. But unless she's planning to send a flock of seagulls to peck you to death, you won't have to be afraid of that one."

"Birds I could deal with," Liv grumbled. "Lightning. If she hits me once, I'm done for. I guess that's not any different from fighting a stonebat; kill it before it gets you." She turned, looking over the older girl's face for a moment. "Thank you."

"For what?" Triss asked.

"You're the only one there who was brave enough to take my side," Liv said. "Everyone else just watched."

"Well," Triss said. "She was being a bitch, wasn't she?"

"She was," Liv agreed, and grinned. Maybe this girl wasn't so bad, after all.

☙

They stayed at the bench until the fourth bell of the afternoon, then raced along the footpath back to the circle where the carriages were arriving. Matthew was waiting next to one, chatting with a dark haired boy in a purple doublet.

"We need to leave," Liv told him, rushing up hand in hand with Triss. "Now."

"Liv, Triss, this is Thurstan Falkenrath," Matthew said. "Why are you two in such a rush?"

"Because we need to get out of here before the princess comes!" Beatrice exclaimed, reaching over to grab Matthew by the arm. Liv clambered into the carriage, making room for the other two.

"I'll talk to you later, Matthew," Thurstan said, watching with a grin. "Did my sister get up to any trouble, ladies?"

"Cecily?" Triss said, stepping up into the carriage and yanking Matthew along with her. "She's fine. Tell my coachman to come find me in a bell at - where are you two staying?"

"Acton House," Liv called out. She did her best to fake a smile, waved once, then pulled the door of the carriage closed and thumped her fist against the roof to signal to the driver. They could just see the other girls emerging from the gardens as they pulled away.

"What was all that about?" Matthew asked. Liv noticed that he'd ended up on the opposite bench, next to Beatrice.

"I have to duel the princess," Liv told him.

"You're joking." Matthew looked back and forth between the two girls. "Tell me you're joking."

"I'm her second," Triss said.

"I should be her second!" Matthew complained. "I'm going to be your brother, aren't I?"

"You can come as a witness," Liv grumbled. "Did you at least do what you were supposed to? Maybe it can make up for how badly I made a mess of things."

"I just met Thurstan Falkenrath, and he seems a decent sort," Matthew said. "I also struck up a conversation with Roger Corbett, after I dropped you off."

"That's something," Liv said. He might have been useless with magic, but Matthew was always better than her at talking to people. His popularity at the Laughing Carp and the Old Oak spoke to that.

"Have either of you ever fought a duel, before?" Triss asked, and both Liv and Matthew shook their heads. "Alright, you need to practice, then. Do you have room?"

"We can use the beach," Liv said. "We might even be able to pull in Cade Talbot to help."

"The beach, that's good," Triss said. "She wants to fight you on the north beach, so practicing on sand will help get you ready for it. The Talbots - that's not the worst word to practice against, but you're going to need a chirurgeon on hand."

Matthew was silent, staring at Liv with narrowed eyes.

"What?" she asked him.

"You met him yesterday," Matthew said. "You trust him to fling magic at you?"

"It's not as if I can have you do it," she shot back. "Let's hope he'll help, because if not I don't know who we're going to go to."

☙

When the three of them piled out of the carriage in front of Acton House, Liv was surprised to see a familiar, weather-beaten man coming down the steps, still in conversation with Lady Julianne. Across the street, a gang of boys in dirty clothes were kicking a ball of rags around, laughing. Liv thought it an odd sight for such a wealthy neighborhood, but was immediately distracted by Captain Athearn's boisterous greeting.

"Young Lord Matthew! Miss Brodbeck!" he called. "Good to see you both again. Staying out of trouble, I hope."

Liv couldn't help blushing, but Matthew at least kept a straight face. "Of course. Good to see you again, Captain," he said. "I wasn't aware you were in port."

"Well, I got word the owners would be in town," Ahearn said, "so I stopped by to talk a little bit of business."

"And who is your friend, children?" Lady Julianne asked, looking Triss up and down. Liv thought she noticed an eye twitch at the sight of the sword and tight breeches the girl was wearing.

"Mother, this is Beatrice Crosbie," Matthew said. "Triss, this is my mother, Lady Julianne."

"A pleasure to meet you, my lady," Triss said.

"How was the garden party?" Julianne asked. Liv looked away and shuffled her feet awkwardly. Matthew coughed. "I said, how was the garden party?" When Liv looked up, Lady Julianne was glaring back and forth between the two of them as if trying to decide who she was going to punish first.

"Perhaps we could talk about that after Captain Ahearn is on his way?" Liv suggested.

"I can take a hint," the mariner said. "Good afternoon to you all. I'll be in touch, m'lady." He set off through the gate, which one of the guards closed behind him, and then down the street on foot.

"Out with it," Julianne snapped.

Liv winced. "I'm dueling the princess tomorrow night."