Chapter 435: Red Whispers
Red Whispers
Solday meant another excursion to the marshlands northeast of Morcaster. Initially, Martel had felt ambivalent about these trips. He understood the importance of learning how to find and gather herbs, of course; especially those that required to be turned magical before harvesting, which could not simply be bought from any old herbalist. On the other hand, it irked him a little to spend a full day doing this when he could be practising his elemental exercises or enchantment.
But after the first trip, Martel had discovered something. Being in the wetlands ameliorated his longing for the green. Martel had grown up in a village surrounded by fields and forest. Until he came to Morcaster, a city of stone, he had never imagined that one might go days without seeing a living tree. The western courtyard of the Lyceum had grass and bushes, but still surrounded by stone walls.
Even if the marsh did not have the same idyll of his northern forests, it helped to feel the lush vegetation around him. It took away some of the restless energy that sometimes troubled him, making it harder for him to focus or collect his thoughts. The quiet work, feeling a little touch of satisfaction every time he found another herb, helped as well. Martel had come to find that after every sojourn on Solday, he returned to Morcaster feeling more at ease than when he had left.
***
Coming back from the day's trip, the walls of Morcaster made Martel renew his considerations on the effect that the city had on him. Mistress Rana was quiet, giving no disturbance to his thoughts. Martel contemplated how he had changed since his arrival and how he actually felt about Morcaster.
He had learned so much – knowledge and abilities he could scarcely have imagined beforehand. He felt powerful, and more than that, comfortable with his own power. He had met kind people that he appreciated greatly, such as Masters Alastair and Jerome, among others.
And he had met friends that he cared about as much as family. Even if one had left, Martel would not be without that experience.
But Morcaster had also taught him of misery and cruelty that he had never encountered before. He had done things he felt unsure about, perhaps even regretted. And people with their own power, different from his, had made him a pawn in their games. Perhaps worst of all, they had twisted his magic to become a weapon.
As they approached the gate, Martel thought about how he would leave the city in some months' time. Should the opportunity arise, he could not say if he wanted to return.
***
Once at the infirmary gate of the Lyceum, Mistress Rana took the saddlebags off the donkey, leaving Martel to drag the beast back to the stable where she had hired it. He had not come far before a shape sidled up beside him.
"Leave me alone," Martel remarked without looking.
"How did you know? Do wizards have eyes in the back of their heads?" Ruby asked.
"Your perfume. I work in an apothecary. Again, leave me be. I have no interest in whatever you're peddling."
"You won't even do me the courtesy of hearing me out? Just for old times' sake."
He finally gave her a brief glance, lasting no longer than his patience. "Which old times would that be? When you used me as a distraction, or when your mistress kidnapped a small child to force a troupe of innocent actors out of her district?"
"I was thinking of when I hid you in my bedroom," she told him, and even without looking, he could hear the lascivious smile on her face. "You know, protecting you from trouble."
"Only because you owed me for getting you out of trouble," he retorted.
"Well, last we met, you came to me seeking information. Which I gave you willingly, I might add. The least you can do is hear me out."
"You gave it to me to get rid of me." Martel was starting to be more annoyed with himself than her; every reply he gave only encouraged her to continue, playing her game. And yet he allowed himself another glance at her red lips, even as he knew they spoke lies with greater ease than any truths. It bothered him that no matter what he knew about her true nature, he could not make himself feel as cold towards her as he wanted to be.
"And it's this back and forth I appreciate. You want to get rid of me now? Just let me talk while we walk back to your school."
Martel reached the stable that had rented them the donkey, a stone's throw from the Lyceum. A stable boy accepted the animal, and the acolyte turned around to walk back; Ruby remained on him like a burr. "In that case, you better talk fast. It'll take me a minute to get home."
"A what?"
"Never mind. You're wasting the few moments you have left."
"Alright. The Khivans are in trouble. From what I heard, you're the one wizard in this city who gives a damn about them."
Martel almost halted in his tracks, and he looked awkward as he recovered, continuing his gait. "What's it to you? I can't imagine you care."
"It disturbs the delicate balance of power. Lady Pearl likes things to be the way they are," Ruby claimed.
Probably a lie with a face as bald as her mistress. Lady Pearl just disliked it when things changed in ways she did not control. Regardless, Martel did not care. He assumed Ruby referred to the building of the insula; the same topic that the Fire Eater had spoken to him about. "I already refused any involvement. You can say as much to that pebble you serve." Martel reached the doors that led to the infirmary. "No trespassers beyond this point, unless you want to tangle with the wards of the Lyceum."
It seemed that Ruby had no such desire; she remained outside while Martel entered, making sure to close the door behind him.
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