Arienne nodded, chewing her potatoes. It had nothing to do with sewing. No seamstress would make a garment that would unravel at the snap of a single thread. She had imagined a thread that did not exist and cut that instead. Despite what Eldred insisted, that hastily and instinctively wrought spell had worked with just herimagination. As she opened her mouth to contradict him, something told her it was a good idea not to let Eldred know.
“I shall teach you what’s immediately useful, the things you need to know to protect yourself.”
Eldred spoke a few words, syllables her tongue was not used to. Arienne repeated them. A kind of strength swirled on the tip of her tongue, summoned by the incantation from an unfamiliar realm of sorcery. She didn’t have an inkling as to what language the words were, or even if they were human words.
“This is a spell that ends the life of your enemies. Just a few words and any man or woman would die where they stand.”
Arienne was aghast.
“Of all the… Killing someone with just words? With no ingredient or ritual?”
“The incantation itself does nothing more than call the attention of the universe to the matter at hand. Trying to recall something as vividly as possible and convincing the universe that this is a fate that must absolutely happen is a difficult thing. You have talent, but if your images are not clear, it will not take effect. Now, try to remember a time when you killed someone. Try remembering it as vividly as possible. Try re-creating the scene here in this room.”
Arienne almost spat out a piece of potato. “I don’t have such vile memories!”
Eldred made something of a sigh.
“How easy the lives of sorcerers are today! In my time, we… Well, you were trapped in that minuscule school since an early age, studying things far from real magic, I suppose it isn’t surprising this should be so. What about beasts, then? Sheep or chicken? You must have struck a sheep’s head with an axe or twisted the neck of a chicken.”
“Never.”
“You, the daughter of a farmer?”
“I’ve cracked an egg or two.”
She put another spoonful of stew in her mouth.
“Cease this eating and pay attention!”Eldred had raised his voice. The bandage around his mouth fell, revealing two shriveled lips. Arienne almost flipped the tray in her revulsion.
“Before I ended up this way, there was a line of young sorcerers going out the door begging me to accept them as apprentices, you ungrateful—”
“You keep talking about killing this and killing that, but it is odd that you’re the one who ended up killed.”
Eldred fell silent.
“I escaped because Ididn’twant to end up like you,” Arienne added.
She was beginning to feel angry. She had expected him to be a poor, tortured soul of a noble sorcerer, but from the moment they escaped the Academy, he had been saying nothing but the vilest things. And he had been a murderer as well! She couldn’t forget the skeleton with its broken neck.
“Are you saying you refuse to learn sorcery from me? That you will not listen to anything I say?”
“You should say somethingworthlistening to!” she shouted. “What have you done so far to help me? I don’t know what grand country you were the great sorcerer of, but ever since we left the school you’ve behaved more like a murderer or a slaver! If we hadn’t been lucky enough to meet Cain when we did, we’d both be in the dungeon of the Office of Truth right now!”
Eldred grew silent. His head was bowed, and so was his waist. Arienne realized her voice had been too loud and was about to openthe door and peek out, but the sight of the sliding bolts sapped the energy from her. She sat back down.
It was deep into night now. She could hear coquettish voices and laughter and music seeping in from the outside, reassuring her that no one was paying attention to her. Arienne closed the door to the room in her mind. She finished the stew, put on the sleep clothes, and crawled in between the sheets. She was asleep as soon as she closed her eyes.
When Arienne woke, she heard no music or laughter. Drawing back the thick red drapes brought in sunlight that almost blinded her. She closed the drapes and looked down at the shoes and dress she had cast aside. They were dirty from the street. The shoes she could clean, but the dress was torn in places.
Someone knocked at the door.
“Just a moment.”
Arienne drew back the bolts and opened the door. Lucretia stood outside with a wooden basin and towel in her hands. Steam rose from the basin. There was also a leather sack on the floor resting against the doorframe.
Lucretia’s attire was plainer and looked more comfortable than yesterday’s. She was wearing nothing on her face, but her age was still difficult to tell. As Lucretia set down the basin on the side table, Arienne carried in the sack. Lucretia tidied up a little and left the room with the empty bowl from last night’s stew. She didn’t speak, but her smile was warm and her movements respectful, which went far to reassure Arienne. What had Cain done for Lucretia, that she should be like this to her?
Along with the rucksack, there was also a pair of sturdy-lookingboots, tied together by their laces. They fit comfortably on her feet. The rolled-up bedding on top of the sack was fastened by string. Inside the bag were two pairs of trousers and two tunics made of thick, tough blue material. They were patched in the elbows and knees with leather. Arienne, when she’d come from Arland to the Capital, had worn such clothes. There was an undyed woolen scarf, perfect for wearing over thet’laranon her neck. At the bottom was some dried meat and hard bread, enough for three days, or even four if she was frugal. There were plenty of places to get food and drink along the Imperial highway, so these were just for emergencies.
