8 I helped my master to graduate

A week later I was on my way with Yalet to the Harp Quarter. My master wanted to place me with a wealthy family as a page in exchange for meals and domestic experience. To do this, he had me wash my face, cut my hair and put on a new, white shirt. I followed him cheerfully, though a little reluctantly, for it broke my heart to have to leave Manras and Dil to serve the nail-pinchers. Yerris would have called me a suck-up.

“Elassar,” I said, as we walked up a pretty cobblestone street. I trotted to catch up with him. “You really don’t know when Yerris is coming back?”

“No,” Yal answered without stopping. “Alvon left Estergat with him, that’s all I know.”

I sighed sadly.

“And am I really going to have to work in a house?”

Yal gave me a half-annoyed, half-mocking look.

“Come on, cheer up, Mor-eldal. Think that I am doing this for your own good. You’ll learn good manners, you’ll see a different world from the Cats and those newsboys, and in short, it will do you a lot of good.”

I pouted skeptically and observed:

“That is, if they’ll take me.”

Yal sighed.

“Indeed, if they’ll take you. I warn you, if you do anything stupid now, I’ll make you read The Ways of Twentyberries ten times.”

I opened my eyes wide in horror. To teach me how to read Drionsan modern signs, Yal had brought me a book to the Peak which he had borrowed from the Elms Library. And I was moving at a snail’s pace. It would have taken me ten years to read it ten times!

“Yikes…” I swallowed. “Not that, Elassar. Don’t make me do that.”

“Well, then, behave yourself.”

We came to the end of the street, and my master went straight on to a red mansion—all the houses in this neighborhood were huge. He pulled the doorbell, and as it rang, he turned to me and said,

“By the way, remember we’re cousins, right?”

I nodded and widened my eyes slightly as the door opened and a dark-haired man dressed in black appeared. He looked like a raven. But it was a human. He had a pointed face, slanting eyes, and a gloomy expression that did not please me.

“Good morning,” Yalet said. He touched the brim of his top hat. My master was dressed like a real gentleman. “I am Yalet Ferpades. A friend told me that this house was looking for a boy to work as a page, and I’d like to—”

“Absolutely not, no one is needed here,” the raven-faced man interrupted.

And he shut the door in our faces. I huffed.

“Raven face,” I growled.

Yal gave me a warning look, and then he went down the stoop and growled, too.

“Damn it, did I get the wrong house?” He glanced at the number, shook his head, and repeated, “Damn it.”

“Selling newspapers is not bad either, Elassar,” I interjected. “If I went there right away, I’d have time to get the afternoon ones and…”

I sighed at his exasperated look. He gestured for me to follow him and commented in a low voice:

“Don’t call me Elassar in the middle of the day, okay?”

“You called me Mor-eldal,” I said.

Yal rolled his eyes and nodded with a slight amused smile, before adopting a more serious expression.

“Listen, Draen. I only want you to learn something other than to wander the streets and sing like a leprechaun.”

“What’s wrong with that?” I replied. “Besides, that’s not all I’m learning. You’re teaching me a lot of things too. Magic locks, the Twentyberries guy, harmonies—”

“Keep your voice down, will you?” Yal gasped.

I put on an apologetic face.

“Sorry.”

Yal sighed and was about to say something when we both heard a voice calling:

“Mr. Ferpades!”

We turned and saw a young elf leaping down the stoop of the red mansion. He was wearing a loose white shirt even whiter than mine. The way he panted, it looked like he had run to the door.

“Bingo,” Yal muttered. He smiled at me and pushed me by the shoulder toward the stoop. I approached without much enthusiasm.

“Mr. Ferpades,” the young nobleman repeated. “I am Miroki Fal. I regret this misunderstanding, I had not warned the butler of the announcement I had made. In fact, I didn’t think anyone would come so soon. That’s the boy, isn’t it? How old is he?”

“Ten years,” Yal replied. He said it without a moment’s hesitation, and I almost believed him. Well, it was most likely true: my nakrus master had told me that my birthday was in late spring, and we were already in autumn. Yal continued, “His name is Draen, he’s my cousin and… so far, he doesn’t have much experience, but he’s a good boy, and at least, he has a good disposition, and he knows how to obey.”

He said that too without hesitation, but this time, I did not believe him. Good disposition? More like, I was willing to do whatever I wanted, what the hell. I raised my head in pride. Perhaps misinterpreting my gesture, the nail-pinching elf smiled.

“Good. Well, look, I’ll take him on probation for a few days, and, if he satisfies me, he can stay more.”

“You’re… going to hire him?” Yal said. This time he didn’t seem to believe it himself, I noticed with a small smile.

“I will, if I am satisfied with his work,” the young nail-pincher repeated.

“Ah. Well, fine,” Yal said cheerfully. “Say, I only wish to make one condition. Accommodation will not be possible. He already has a house, and his grandfather would rather he go home to sleep. I hope that’s not a problem.”

“Not at all,” Miroki Fal assured. “As long as he arrives on time in the morning. I assure you that I shall release him every day before eight o’clock at night, probably much earlier. Good day, Mr. Ferpades. Draen, let’s go in.”

I glanced apprehensively at my master, but his expression invited me to obey the nail-pincher, and uneasy and nervous as a rabbit entering the wolf’s den, I crossed the threshold under the indifferent gaze of the Raven and the smiling eyes of the Nail-pincher. The latter led me upstairs, and sooner than I could have imagined, my apprehension turned to curiosity. This house was unimaginable. There were such strange objects! My nakrus master, who said that he did not want me to fill the cave with useless things, like pretty stones or carved sticks, what would he have said about this house?

“Sir,” I said, as the Nail-pincher led me down a wide corridor. This one had three doors on each side, all closed. I said, “Sir! What’s that?”

I pointed to a large golden object of incomprehensible shape. Miroki Fal cleared his throat.

“This is a piece of art my father bought years ago. My mother wouldn’t take it to Griada when my family moved, and by all means, how I understand her! It’s a horror. Truthfully, I have no idea what it is.”

I arched an eyebrow. Damn.

“What about these people?” I inquired, pointing to large paintings hanging all along the hallway. “Ancestors?”

“A few,” Miroki Fal nodded, stopping in front of a door and pulling out a key. “This house is my uncle’s, so there are plenty of paintings of his children and grandchildren. But there are also religious works that represent illustrious spirits, and modern works. Look at this one, my best friend painted it. He sold it to me for a mere two hundred siatos last spring, but it’s the painting I love the most.”

The picture was strange, completely black with silver things that looked like spider webs. I looked puzzled.

“But it’s not painted,” I said.

Miroki Fal was speechless for a second and then burst out laughing.

“Of course it’s painted! It’s art, boy. Don’t worry, you can’t understand it.” Oh, I’m not worried, I thought, but I didn’t say anything. He opened his office and went in, adding, “I suppose your cousin understood the terms of the announcement: in return for your work as a page, I’ll give you food, lodging—but I see that won’t be necessary—and maybe a tip.”

As he closed the door, I nodded and looked around. I saw shelves with books and books and more books and figures and vases and very high white curtains. I thought I had gone to another world. For me, who had seen a total of four books in my life, all this… was an enormity.

“Whoa,” I blurted out. “Are they all real?” I asked as I approached the books.

“Uh… yeah, don’t touch them, okay? Just sit down. I’ll explain quickly what you’ll have to do: it’s very simple.”

Dazzled, I sat down on a stately chair. My feet were nowhere near the floor. I looked intently at Miroki Fal, sitting behind the desk. What could this Nail-pincher want?

“Well,” the young elf continued, “I don’t know if you know what the Conservatory is.”

I frowned and nodded.

“The school for magicians, right?”

Miroki Fal nodded.

“That’s right. I’m studying there, and it turns out I haven’t had a page for four moons. The previous one ran away. And… well, I definitely need a page. You’ll have to carry my notes, run errands, send messages… Nothing very complicated. In the afternoon, I don’t have any classes, so you’ll be helping Rux with dinner, cleaning the house, and whatever else he asks of you. Got it?”

I blinked. Mothers of the Light… all that?

“Who’s Rux?” I asked.

“The butler, the one you saw earlier,” the elf explained. I grimaced, and he smiled, “Don’t worry, he won’t bite.”

As long as he really didn’t… I swallowed.

“Sir? Why did the other page run away?”

This time, it was he who grimaced.

“Well… The Conservatory sometimes holds surprises. There was a little accident during an experiment, the boy was scared to death, and the next day, I didn’t see him again.” He shook his head and rose from his chair under my apprehensive gaze. “That’s why I strictly forbid you to enter the classrooms. And if I tell you that you can go, you go, leave the Conservatory, and come back at the appointed time, all right?”

I huffed. That was good news.

“It runs, it runs,” I said, hopeful. “How many free hours is that?”

The Nail-pincher looked at me with a mixture of surprise and amusement.

“Well… It depends on my schedule. But, when I say you’re getting out of the Conservatory, it’s to come here and help Rux out.”

I looked at him, aghast.

“Really?”

Miroki hesitated and cleared his throat.

“Well… I guess Rux can take care of himself in the morning.”

I smiled broadly at him.

“So I can go wherever I want? Right, sir? Thank you, sir, that so kind of you!”

The young elf rolled his eyes.

“I’m one of those people who thinks that even poor people need time off. So yes, you can go play with your friends, as long as you come back on time without being late,” he insisted. “If you do, even once, our deal falls through, understand?”

I nodded vigorously without a word, and he smiled, frowned, and added:

“One last thing. If I see one thing missing from this house, I’ll blame you. So be careful what you touch.” I nodded again, and he thundered, “Rux!”

The butler was late in arriving; he didn’t limp like Rolg, but he walked with great composure.

“Yes, Mr. Fal?” he asked in a dry voice.

“Draen will be your assistant,” Miroki Fal declared. “Please show him his new duties and see that tomorrow, at eight o’clock, he is outside the door and ready to go.”

Rux the Raven nodded briefly, and not without a certain reluctance, I got up and followed him to the corridor and then down the stairs. I did not trust this fellow. Without a word he led me to the large main hall and pointed to a closed door.

“There, that’s the pantry. You must not open it,” he warned me. He moved away to an open door. “That’s the kitchen. You don’t go in there. I’m the one who prepares the meals, understand?”

He stared at me so hard that I did not answer, and I stood rooted to the spot, intimidated. He frowned.

“I’m talking to you. Are you listening?”

I snapped out of it.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m not going into the kitchen or the pantry. I understand you ragingly,” I assured.

Rux frowned even more.

“Good,” he said. “Then take this broom and clean the upstairs hallway. Without touching anything or opening any doors.”

I jumped for joy. Finally, a chance to get away from the raven!

“There I go,” I said. I took the broom and ran up the stairs. I decided to start from the back, where there was a huge and beautiful window. But, on the way, I stopped to look at the pictures. There were all sorts, portraits of moustachioed gentlemen and ladies in wacky hats, landscapes with pretty girls dressed all in white… as well as the blackboard of spider webs. I looked at the latter with curiosity. Why did the Nail-pincher like this unpainted picture so much? After glancing at the closed office door, I reached out with my right hand and touched the black surface. I felt a strange energy and jerked away. An enchanted painting! If Rux had warned me not to touch, it wasn’t for nothing. Fortunately, my right hand was relatively impervious to external spells.

I moved away quickly, shook my hand to get rid of the unpleasant feeling, and began to sweep vigorously as I glanced out of the window. From there, I could see the Conservatory, a large castle full of windows, with walls as black as the Rock.

“A stronghold,” I murmured.

I remembered that in the book of stories with pictures of my nakrus master, there was a drawing of this kind with the word: stronghold. There lived a little princess, alone and distraught…

“But she was brave, and one spring day she set out on an adventure with, in her heart, a sun of joy,” I whispered, continuing the tale. I knew it by heart: my nakrus master had read it to me many times, as many times as I had read it on my own. It was quite frustrating to see that the writing then was not at all the same now.

I sighed, and realizing that I had stopped sweeping, I went on to sing:

I continued on and had already reached the end of the corridor when the office door opened and the Nail-pincher appeared.

“Little boy!” he said to me.

I stopped, fell silent, and looked at him questioningly.

“Uh… Here, you can sing all you want, but outside and at the Conservatory, don’t do that. I don’t want you to stick out, okay?”

I shrugged.

“It runs, sir!”

And I threw all the dirt that had gathered on the first step, moved to the next and continued to throw all the dirt while humming my song. When I got downstairs, I looked around the kitchen and saw Rux sitting at a table cutting something with a knife. He looked up and, to my surprise, he smiled at me. At that moment, his smile scared the hell out of me, especially because with the knife in his hand, the vibes he gave off were, how do I put it, a little disturbing. However, after thinking about it, I told myself that his smile, although a little sinister, was not bad.

And I wasn’t wrong. I spent a good two hours singing while sweeping and dusting, and despite what he said before, Rux let me into the kitchen to help him wash the plates and even shared with me the leftover soup Miroki Fal had left the night before. As we ate, sitting at the small kitchen table, I enthused:

“So yummy! What is it?”

“Mmph,” Rux said. “Veggies, meat… There’s a lot of ingredients, like in all soups. And don’t talk with your mouth full.”

I closed my mouth, and after a silence, finished my bowl, and asked:

“What are all these instruments for?”

I pointed to a pile of pots and ladles of various sizes. Rux let out another: Mmph. And after a silence during which I looked at him, waiting for his answer, he explained:

“They are pans, saucepans, and cooking pots… Have you never seen a pan?”

I wasn’t sure, so I shook my head. Rux said again: Mmph. And he added a:

“Whatever, clean the bowls.”

He handed me his, and I got up to clean them. In the end, Rux maybe was not all that bad, but he was as expressive as Dil, or even less so.

“When you’re done, you can go,” Rux said.

I opened my eyes wide at such good news and nearly dropped the bowl.

“Come back tomorrow at eight o’clock on the dot,” Rux added. “If you come late, Mr. Fal will wring your ears off.”

I left the bowls neatly on the table and gave Rux a wide smile.

“I’ll be here at eight o’clock!” I assured him.

And I ran off. Just before I left the kitchen, I thought I saw another slight amused smile from the butler.

I went down and down the streets to the Esplanade. It was barely three o’clock in the afternoon. I went to the office and from there to the places where we, the singing duo, and Little Prince used to sell. After an hour of wandering, I finally found my companions and shouted to them:

“Ayo, cronies!”

Seeing me, the little dark elf smiled and came running up, followed by Dil.

“Where have you been?”

“I have found a new job,” I explained. “In the Harp Quarter.”

Manras gaped at me.

“For real? With the princes?”

I nodded.

“With a magician who studies at the Conservatory.”

“Mothers of the Light!” Manras gasped, impressed.

I smiled.

“Yes, but, don’t worry, as soon as I leave the Nail-pincher at the Conservatory, I can go wherever I want—if he tells me I can, of course. So, as soon as I can, I’ll come with you. How are the sales?”

“Wind in the sails,” Manras assured. “But what are you going to do now if you don’t have any papers?”

“Sell Dil’s!” I replied. “Anyway, you’ve always got some left over,” I said to Little Prince. “Give me some. Then I’ll give you half the nails, because I’ve already eaten at the magician’s, what do you say?”

Of course, Little Prince thought that was fine. As long as it wasn’t about getting noticed or doing bad tricks, everything seemed fine to him. So I spent the last few hours of the afternoon with them, had half a snack of cheese at The Wind Rose, and chewing the last bite, trotted straight to the Blind Alley. After making sure no one was passing by on the adjoining street, I concentrated, joined my jaypu to my surroundings, and wrapped myself in harmonic shadows. Honestly, I was doing quite well—I smiled. I grabbed the gutter without looking at it, climbed up and landed on the roof in silence. I crossed it and continued to climb, still clinging to the same projections, with the speed that comes with habit.

Finally, I climbed over the wall of the terrace and reached the summit. It was not yet completely dark, few streetlights were lit, and the stars were visible in the sky. They were not always visible. So I lay down on my back to see them in all their splendour. It was a dark moon that night, but a crescent Gem was already pointing up above the tallest sharp needles of the Rock. I raised an index finger and hid the Gem so that I could see only a ring of blue light around it. Then I let my hand fall back, yawned, and heard a:

“How was the first day on the job? Tough?”

I turned my head and saw the figure of Yal appear above the terrace wall.

“Elassar!” I said, sitting up. “Do you know that the Nail-pincher is going to take me to the Conservatory?”

Yal had just sat down, leaning against the wall, and he brusquely looked away from the stars.

“What did you say?” he snorted.

“I’m telling you. He’s a student magician, and he wants me to run errands for him there,” I explained.

There was silence. Yal coughed slightly.

“The announcement didn’t say anything of the sort,” he growled. “I understand now why he didn’t take a noble servant…”

“Is the Conservatory really dangerous?” I inquired.

Yal crossed his legs, clearing his throat.

“It isn’t if you stay away from their experiments. Surely your former master warned you of the dangers of the celmist arts.”

“For yourself, yes, not for others,” I said, perplexed.

“Well, they can be dangerous,” Yalet asserted. “Alchemy in particular. This spring, without looking any further, shortly before you arrived, there was an explosion in a whole wing of the Conservatory. You can’t imagine the smoke that came out, dense and all green; you could see it from the Cat Quarter. Several people were severely intoxicated. Hm. Reassure me, this Miroki Fal is not an alchemist, is he?” he worried.

I shook my head in concern.

“I don’t know, he didn’t tell me. But he said I’m not allowed into the classrooms.”

“And you better listen to him,” Yal replied, and he said more cheerfully, “By the way, by the way, did you know that I graduated?”

I took a deep breath of air.

“Wow! That’s great!”

Yal nodded, looking thoughtful.

“I’ve studied harder than a mage, and the spirits know I deserve this degree. If it weren’t for Korther, I wouldn’t have come in half asleep to the exam… Anyway,” he cleared his throat and looked up. “Let’s get to work, sari. Tell me, what did we learn yesterday?”

“Picklocks and traps and picklocks,” I recited with a theatrically annoyed pout, then smiled. “And harmonies!”

“Precisely,” Yal said, rising to his feet. “Today we’re going to put them into real practice. How does that sound?”

I looked at him, astonished, and jumped to my feet in excitement.

“Are we going to steal anything valuable?”

“No, tonight we are not thieves: we are ghosts,” my master smiled.

And, with agility, he began to descend from the Peak. I followed him.

“Be careful where you step,” he said, when he saw me land next to him on a roof.

“I am very careful,” I assured him.

“A false step at this height means death,” he replied, very seriously.

I sighed, because he was starting to repeat those words as often as my nakrus master did his stories of grumpy skeletons.

“Yes, Elassar.”

We did not land in the Blind Alley, but in a different place, and as soon as I set foot on the ground, Yal moved away. I had to run to catch up with him.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Follow me and you’ll see.”

Instead of going downhill, we went up. Soon, we came to the wide stairs which marked the end of the Cats and the beginning of Atuerzo. We crossed the Stone Park, and when I saw my master crouching behind a shrub, I did the same.

“A night guard,” Yal explained in a low voice.

A few moments later, I saw the said guard pass with his lantern through the dark park. With his other hand, he was smoking a pipe. He stopped for a moment by a bench to light it again, and then he went on. As soon as he was gone Yal got up and crossed the street to a large building. I frowned and asked:

“What about this place?”

“The Elm School,” Yal answered in a whisper. “Except for the janitor, everything is empty. Over here. Use the harmonies.”

He climbed quickly over the gate. I smiled and followed him, excited to visit the place where Yal had studied for three years. We walked through a cobblestone courtyard, shrouded in harmonic shadows. Yal opened the first door with a key, and once inside, he whispered to me with amusement.

“I made a copy using wax. Come on.”

We walked down a corridor full of doors, but we did not open any of them, and Yal led me directly up the stairs to the third floor. Knowing exactly where he was going, my master stopped in front of a door and reached for the handle without touching it.

“Tell me if there is a trap,” he asked.

I shrugged and placed my right hand on the door. I heard my master gasp; he still hadn’t gotten used to the fact that the magic theft traps didn’t detect my hand as an intruder. I felt an energy and nodded.

“There is.”

It made sense—otherwise, Yal wouldn’t have asked me to look for one.

“Well, turn it off,” he invited me.

I concentrated, examined the pattern of the trap, and recognized it as one of those which Yal had shown me. I quickly located the detonator, broke the bonds around it and… I stopped.

“Should I turn it off or undo it?”

Yal laughed under his breath.

“You deactivate it, sari; deactivating it is much more professional. When we get out, you turn it back on, so no one will know anyone’s been there.”

“Well, it’s done, then,” I informed him.

He checked it by turning the handle, and I saw him so calm that I asked:

“It’s okay if we get caught, right?”

“Uh… No, sari, it’s not okay. But we won’t be caught, don’t worry, I know this place by heart.”

I entered behind him, and the smell of paper overwhelmed me. The light from the Gem gently illuminated the interior, and I stifled a cry of surprise.

“There are more books here than at the Nail-pincher!”

“Speak lower, Mor-eldal,” Yal growled.

“Sorry, sorry,” I murmured as he moved away between the shelves.

I ran to the back, then back by another shelf, and as Yal had not told me not to touch, I ran my hand over the spine of each book. After browsing for a while, I saw my master with a book open and a harmonic light on, and I went over.

“Elassar,” I murmured. “Are they all written?”

Yal’s smile appeared in all its splendor.

“The books?” I nodded. “Of course, sari. In libraries, there are only written books.”

I stood on tiptoe to see which book he was looking at.

“What does this one tell?”

“History stuff,” Yal replied. And he closed it and put it back on the shelf. I heard him mutter, “Four thousand three hundred and sixty-eight.”

He consulted another book and muttered:

“Satranin. Four thousand three hundred and sixty-eight.”

I looked at him, puzzled.

“Satranin? What’s that?”

“A white powder, a powerful sedative,” Yal replied absentmindedly. And he put the book back in its place before heading for the door. “Come, sari, and be quiet.”

I followed him, growing more and more disconcerted. I reactivated the trap on the library door, and this time, we went down the stairs to the second floor. Yal looked at a massive door that was different from the others, and then he waved his hand at me and whispered:

“You turn it off, you do it very well.”

This time, I had more trouble, because the pattern was not one that Yal had taught me, but I managed to deactivate the trap, and Yal put a caring hand on my cap.

“I can already see you sleeping under golden drapes a year from now, sari.”

I rolled my eyes and followed him inside. This time, we found no books, but mountains of files and papers laid out on several desks. Yal quickly went through several piles, and suddenly picking one up, he sat down in a chair with a sigh.

“I taught you to read the name Yalet, didn’t I?” he whispered to me. “Well, take this.”

He gave me a third of the pile, and, growing more and more astonished, I cast a spell of light, but it went out almost immediately. I concentrated and cast it again. What I saw on the sheets made me frown. It was a printed form with things written on it by hand. I tried to read the first line at the top, written in large letters:

“Ex… Exam… of… theontia?”

I shook my head, and Yal helped me:

“Theology, sari.”

“Oh! Of course.” I squinted and cast another light spell. I still hadn’t quite mastered it. I was about to continue reading when Yal held up three joined sheets like a trophy and exclaimed in a whisper:

“I’ve got ya! Look no further, sari, I have found them.”

Then he took out a lot of equipment, including a quill pen, dipped it into the inkwell, and very conscientiously began to write. I heard him murmur: Four thousand three hundred and sixty-eight. Satranin. And I don’t know what else.

“Done,” he smiled. He renewed his harmonic light, which was beginning to fade, and dried the ink on his paper. I looked at him, dumbfounded. He put the inkwell away, put the stack back in its place, and we left the office as stealthily as we had come in. Still assimilating what my master had done, I reactivated the trap, Yal made sure that I had done it correctly, and once in the courtyard, we passed over the gate again and were soon on our way back to the Cat Quarter. After a long silence, I huffed.

“Elassar… I thought you said you graduated.”

Yalet gave me a mocking look.

“Didn’t I?”

I smiled and laughed.

“You ragingly did!”

Yal huffed, amused, put an arm around my shoulders and said:

“And you too, sari, you did even better than I expected. In the end, you may be right when you say you pay more attention than an owl.”

My smile widened, and he added, more seriously:

“Look, I don’t want you to think I’m an hardcore cheater. I did it for a reason. You see, Korther asked me to go see him the night before the exam. I never really had a particular mentor, but… he taught me how to use harmonies and… well, I couldn’t not go. He’s the kap. The problem is, because of him, I barely slept all night. Otherwise, I would have passed the exam without cheating, believe me.”

I nodded, letting him know that his reasons seemed to me more than legitimate. He smiled and patted me on the shoulder.

“I’ll walk you to the Den.”