Chapter 1 – Part 3
Richard looked at his ‘Master’ in annoyance. Thinking of Quarin that way left a bad taste in Richard’s mouth but he wasn’t one to argue. The man had more contacts and power than Richard, and therefore he was currently the man to impress. At least until he found a way to move ahead of him in the organization.
“It’s an easy job, kid.” Quarin picked his nose for a moment and then turned blowing the offending booger on the floor. “A bit of class and you should be in her bed, no problem.” Quarin looked Richard over again with distaste. “Damned pretty boy” he muttered.
It was true that Richard had grown up to be handsome, though “pretty boy” was a mistake. If he had the sort of androgynous beauty that people usually associated with the type, he would have had a harder time protecting his ass from his bosses. As it was, only one boss had ever made the mistake of thinking he was willing that way. When Delosseur had fondled and then kissed him, Richard had accepted the attention. The feel of Delosseur’s blood spurting hot onto his skin had been almost worth being raped himself. It was so easy to kill when a man when he was asleep.
The morning after Perrin had immediately thrown Richard into Quarin’s team, using his influence to cover up the murder. It never looked good on a resume to kill your own boss. Still, nobody had tried to touch him again, and since that had been the goal of the exercise he was well pleased, even if it meant he had to stay under this moron’s leadership for another year or two.
“And the hat?” He looked at the feathered cap in Quarin’s hand. It would look better worn by a dandy or perhaps one of the young noble men who traveled the world. Richard was pretty sure that on him, it would make him look like an idiot.
“If you want the job and the pay, you gotta wear it.” Quarin told him flatly. “It’s part of the job.” Richard looked at him and took the hat. Doe skin, he thought, and supple enough to be comfortable. The stitching on the front was well done, but the feather was way too much. He looked inside and saw a small symbol of a Mask. The marking was stitched in and Richard paused for a moment. The symbol was similar to Kath’s and he was the patron deity of Thieves. Instead of the fine expressionless mask that Richard was used to, someone had put a sharp-toothed expression onto it.
“Magical?” he asked, his finger touching the fine silk thread.
“Don’t think so… They certainly wouldn’t be giving you something so impressive.” Quarin snorted before continuing “It’s pillow talk, and I don’t think mages bother with magics to help men out in that department.” Quarin followed that comment by muttering to himself, ‘Don’t trust you with no magic anyway… too bright by half.’
Richard rolled his eyes at that. He didn’t think that Quarin was intelligent enough to drink a healing brew if he’d been injured. Being called bright by him was an insult. He put the hat on as Perrin walked into the room. His friend immediately started laughing.
“Now what are you going on about?” Richard asked testily. He heard his boss sneeze and looked over at the feather. It had gotten near Quarin’s nose tickling him. Richard moved a step or two away. The long green/black feather was from a chort bird, known for their beauty, and irritating mating calls. It was too expensive to be just a regular hat, Richard decided. Perhaps it would make him more attractive to the opposite sex. He looked in the mirror again, wondering if he would notice such a magic working on him. He didn’t see anything different about himself, but magics like this were supposed to be subtle.
Perrin’s face appeared in the mirror behind him. “You look like a dandy, Richard. You really think you’re gonna get this chick looking like that?” Perrin nearly doubled over again, grabbing at his stomach while he laughed as if it were hurting him. Richard raised an eyebrow and gave up the faint hope about the items magic. He looked over at Quarin, pleadingly, but the man stood firm.
“You’ve got to wear the hat and the feather… Their orders.” Richard rolled his eyes. He had no problems with taking orders, but these were some of the dumbest ones he’d ever had.
* * *
“She won’t learn! Oh, true the magic comes to her as easily as breath, but…” The woman’s voice intruded upon Crystal’s reading. She raised the book up on its end attempting to hide her. “all she wants to do is read those books on medicine and herbology. Bacci Shards, She can hardly remember when Nilana’s ascension was!”
Crystal smiled over the woman’s use of profanity and listened to the head scribes response, “She has a neat hand though. And she’s always so pleasant to have around.”
“She won’t learn about her own patron though. She finds religion boring and won’t even bother to read Nilana’s holy word.”
Nilana’s Holy Word, Crystal thought, annoyed. Crystal remembered, even though the rest of them seemed to forget, that before Nilana was a God, she was simply a human. Nilana obviously didn’t care if Crystal knew the details of her life anyway, at least if her magical ability was any judge. Dismissing the matter, she attempted to turn her attention back to the book in her hands. She found Herbology and Medicine fascinating, and before she had been so rudely distracted by Mistress Clayre’s voice, she had been absorbed in reading how to properly splint a wound and what poultice’s were good for that sort of injury.
Mistress Clayre couldn’t even make a healing tea for her own moontimes, Crystal though derisively. She knew because she had prepared the woman’s drinks when the kitchen staffs were busy. She turned her thoughts almost violently back towards the book in her hands. Anger never helped the situation. Even if she hadn’t learned enough about Nilana to appease her masters, she had learned that in her two years since arriving at Hartcliffe.
“Excuse me,” a light voice requested, “May I sit beside you?” Looking up, Crystal saw a beautiful girl, near her own age. Her hair was silvery-white and her eyes were a sapphire blue. The girl was holding one of the larger books, a quill, ink and a few pages of the animal hide given to new apprentices. Crystal nodded and the girl sat beside her gratefully. She set out her books and confided to Crystal, “I’ve had the worst time finding a place to sit. All of the others keep smirking at me when they think I don’t see them.”
Crystal smiled sympathetically. It was unfortunately clear that the girl’s heritage was not completely human. The girl was pretty like one of those expensive decorative dolls that were made of fine clay. She replied, “Don’t worry too much about them… kids can be rough sometimes.” She turned back to her book, forgetting about the girl beside her. After just a moment the girl, sighed. Crystal looked over at her. She had set out her books and papers, but seemed to be having a problem filling her quill. Crystal watched her for a moment and then turned back to her book resolutely. After all, the girl would have to learn sometime.
The girl sighed again, her slim fingers still trying to fill the quill without getting the ink on her hands. Crystal ignored her, but when she mumbled in annoyance, Crystals patience wore thin and she turned, grabbing her quill from her. The girl watched her fill it with an innocent smile and Crystal handed it back to her coldly. “Thank you,” the girl said, her smile friendly and kind. She really was too pretty, Crystal thought as she was drawn into that clear gaze. Her eyes sparkled like the ocean did on a bright day. Unfortunately, they only increased that almost unnatural loveliness, making her mixed bloodline stand out further. Crystal nodded without speaking, hoping that the coldness in her reply would make the girl leave her alone. She got so little time to read about whatever she liked, when she didn’t have to pretend to be interested in learning the history of the one she was supposedly called to serve, or having to work as a scribe, or cleaning the library, or any of the other myriad things that filled Crystal’s days.
Gritting her teeth with determination, she settled into her book again. It suddenly felt more like work than studying healing ever had before.
After a moment the girl poked her gently. “Rapture.” Crystal turned back to look at her, annoyed confusion apparent. The girl clarified. “You didn’t ask my name. It’s Rapture.” She held out a small hand. For the first time Crystal noticed her clean fingers, her expensive clothing and the gems in her hair barrettes. Now thoroughly frustrated, Crystal glared at her.
“And why would you think that I would care what your name is?” she lifted her hand to shoo the girl away, but was stopped mid-way by her next sentence.
“We’re going to be great friends.” Rapture proclaimed. She somehow managed to say it without sounding arrogant. While Crystal was still stumbling, trying to find the logic there, Rapture smiled again breaking her anger before it took hold. Spoiled Rich Girl, Crystal thought kindly. That the words were without malice surprised Crystal, and almost against her will, she smiled in return.
“If I tell you my name,” Crystal compromised, “Will you at allow me to return to my studies for a few minutes?” It didn’t occur to her until later to argue about the girls’ declaration of friendship. In fact, she realized later that it felt to her as though she had never heard a truer sentence uttered. The girl nodded eagerly, her over-bright features filled with a happiness that was too pure to destroy.
“It’s Crystal,” she sighed. She took Rapture’s hand and shook it. Rapture smiled and turned to her own books without saying a word, opening it to a marked page. With no further disruptions, Crystal turned back to her book. It seemed odd to be left alone so suddenly, although the quiet was welcome. She focused and was soon enough lost within her book… strangely enough, the quiet girl beside her was never forgotten and Crystal smiled, without quite knowing why.
© B.A. Matthews – 26/June/2010
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