The Alchemist's Touch (3 page)

He was gone in a moment, closing the door behind him a little too hard. Ebon winced at the sharp sound. Then he could do nothing but wait, until the door opened again at last and Tamen came to sit by his bedside.

“Here.” With small brass tongs he held out a lump of sugar, which Ebon put on his tongue. Then from a saucer he served the green tea, not too hot, and Ebon groaned as its warmth filled him.
 

“Thank you,” Ebon croaked, relaxing back into his pillows.
 

“You are only half-way to a cure. Now you must eat.”

“Food is the last thing my stomach desires just now.”

“And the first thing it needs.”

“Leave me be, just a moment, I beg you.” Ebon threw his head under the pillow to shield it from the sun coming through the window, then covered himself with a sheet for good measure.

“I will not force you to rise, but neither can I leave. You might retch again. So while we wait for you to vomit, or eat, perhaps you can tell me how you enjoyed your evening.”

Ebon lifted a single corner of his pillow, peering out as though from the mouth of a cave. He could not keep a small smile from playing across his lips. “You cannot tell me I said nothing when I returned to the tavern.”

Tamen, too, was smiling. “You could barely speak. I do not know that I have ever seen you so drunk. It was all I could do to get you home.”

Ebon’s heart froze. “Tell me that my parents were not awake to witness that.”

“You are fortunate. They stayed at the palace late last night, and left before you rose. Already they have been waiting at the palace for some time. You slept through their presence here.”

Ebon sat up suddenly from under the pillow, and regretted it immediately. His hand went to his forehead as he gave a sharp groan. “How long did you say they have been waiting? They must have risen early.”

“Hardly. It is nearly time for midday’s meal. You have slept long.”

Ebon slumped in his bed. “Still I do not know why they have brought me here. They hardly see me. We scarcely eat together. Why bring me just so I can stay in the manor all day? I might not have enjoyed being left at home, but then at least I would have been free of Father for a time. And Albi must be lonely.”

“I imagine she is,” said Tamen quietly.

“I should write her.”

“What would be the point? You will return soon, and then she will be alone no longer. Your letter would barely reach her a day before you yourself appeared on the doorstep. And do not regret your journey here too strongly. Just think: if you had been left home, a certain…opportunity would never have presented itself.”

Ebon felt himself flush. When he returned home and told Albi of the High King’s Seat, the blue door would not enter into his stories. Out loud, he said only, “I wish I were not going to be dragged off home again.”

This time Tamen could not stop himself from a wide smile. “Still thinking of the blue door? Goodness. You must have had quite the time.”

Ebon felt a mighty need to steer the conversation in another direction. “I should get dressed. Fetch me some clothes.”

“With pleasure.” But Tamen did not stop smirking as he went to the cabinet beside the window. From it he produced a suit of fine yellow wool, tailored like all of Ebon’s clothes to hug his thin frame.

“Tamen, tell me. One day, when I am head of the household, do you think I could go to the Academy then?”

His retainer snorted. “Forgive me if I am blunt, but that is a ridiculous thought. Children are expected to begin in their twelfth year. If fate is kind, you will not be head of your household until you have nearly reached your fortieth.”

“Yet I shall have no one to gainsay me. I could do whatever I wished.”

Tamen turned sharply and tossed the outfit upon the bed. “No, Ebon, you could not. You are not so foolish as to believe that in earnest. You will have responsibilities then, to your sister and to the rest of the family. Would you abandon that responsibility? I know you have no great love for your kin, but you should think at least of Albi.”

“She could take charge in my stead. Indeed, I would welcome the shedding of that burden.”

“Albi is not being groomed for the position. You are.”

Ebon spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “What grooming has my father given me, Tamen? I am forbidden from our trade meetings. I am forbidden from even speaking to any members of the other merchant families. I have never even seen a member of the royal family. How does he expect me to step full-formed into his shoes when I do not have the faintest idea of the leagues they have walked already?”

“And Albi? Could she manage better than you? I imagine she could do a fine job of directing a caravan, if pressed, and if she were surrounded by a staff of those who knew most of her business for her. But she wishes to be a healer, and has spent many years learning that craft. You at least know something of the family’s trade routes, our goods and services, and the relationships your aunt has worked hard to build across the nine kingdoms.”

Ebon turned away—not in disagreement, but because in his heart he knew Tamen spoke the truth. And the man’s words were carefully chosen, for they reminded Ebon of his aunt Halab. Where Ebon’s father was cruel at every opportunity, Halab had always treated Ebon with courtesy and respect, and mayhap even affection. In her presence, even Ebon’s father seemed less cruel, as though he did not wish to shame himself with ill conduct before his sister.

Yet still Ebon shied away at the thought of one day replacing his father. “Never do I wish to be involved in our family’s trade,” he muttered.

“But the world does not exist to grant our wishes, Ebon,” said Tamen gently.

There was a knock at the door. Ebon looked to Tamen, but the man only shrugged. “Come,” said Ebon.

It opened to reveal Mako. Ebon tensed where he sat on the bed, and Tamen grew very still.
 

Tall and broad, Mako was clad in a tunic of light grey, over which he wore a short jerkin of black leather. His trousers, too, were black, clasped at the waist by a belt with a silver buckle, and upon that belt hung a long and wicked dagger. His hair was thick and full, swept back from his forehead with animal fat, and drawn back far on both sides of his forehead. Though his eyes often twinkled as though at some hidden joke, they were hard as steel, and couched in a face painted by many scars. Mako was in the family’s service, though Ebon had never learned just
whom
he served. He seemed to go from household to household, bringing messages and doing whatever might be required, and yet if he reported to a single master, Ebon never learned who it was.

Now he strode into Ebon’s room with a smile, and the smile widened as he hooked both thumbs through his belt. Though Ebon was still covered by a sheet, he felt utterly naked before Mako’s keen gaze. The bodyguard sniffed deeply at the room’s cool air.

“A good morrow—or midday, as it were. And how fares this day, for the family Drayden’s newest man grown?”

Ebon’s eyes widened, panic seizing his throat. He shot a fearful look at Tamen, but the retainer looked back with wide eyes and shook his head.

“I said nothing, Ebon. I swear it.”

Mako burst into laughter, a high, ringing laugh that surely thundered through the manor’s many halls. He bent partway over, slapping a hand against the leather pants that tightly gripped his legs, and the sound made Ebon flinch.
 

“Sky above, the looks upon your faces are priceless. Fear not, little Ebon. Tamen kept his lips well sealed. But I do not need his words to smell the scent of your lovemaking. It is so strong that, were I given enough time, I could find the woman herself.”

“I…you are wrong,” said Ebon, aware of just how frail his voice sounded.

Mako’s chuckles died away, but left behind his wide, toothy grin. “Save your terrified looks, little goldbag. If you fear I will tell your father of your—shall we call it an indiscretion?—then worry not. I have no interest in petty scandals. Unless, of course, you were to displease me. Then word might find its way to Shay’s ears, and who knows what might happen? It is some time since he used a switch on you, is it not?”

“I say again, you are—”

Mako chopped a hand through the air, and Ebon’s words died upon his lips. “As I have said, I will say nothing of this. Nor did I come to sniff between your legs. Your mother and father require you for midday’s meal.”

Ebon looked to Tamen, but the retainer looked just as confused. “They sent you to summon me for a meal?”

Mako shrugged, his smile never leaving. “And why not? I was at hand. I do not hold myself so highly that I cannot deliver a message.”

So saying, he turned and left as quickly as he had come. Tamen went to the door and closed it, throwing the latch in place.

“Come, Ebon. You must ready for yourself for the meal. And whatever else you can say about that man, he is right—we must wash that smell off you before you get within ten paces of your parents.”

four

TAMEN HAD A STEWARD FETCH water for a bath as quickly as it could be brought, but they had no time to heat it. Ebon shivered in the water, cold and brackish, drawn from the Great Bay. He spit it out quickly whenever it touched his tongue, despising the salty taste.

“Hurry, Ebon. We should not keep your father waiting.”

“I can scarcely move faster.”

“Then this will have to do.”

He leapt from the tub and let Tamen towel him off quickly. Then, for good measure, Tamen fetched some perfume and dabbed at his neck, underarms, and wrists.
 

“That is too much! I smell like a chemist!”

“Darkness take me, I am sorry,” said Tamen, hands shaking as he tried to swipe it off.

“Forget it. I must go anyway. My clothes!”

Tamen helped him dress in haste, and soon he was half-running through the manor toward the dining hall. Fine tapestries fluttered on the walls in the wind of his passing, and he nearly bowled over the servants Liya and Ruba, who were dusting fine suits of armor mounted on stands. They cried out after him, but Ebon barely managed to call out “Sorry!” as he ran.

He burst into the hall much faster than he had intended, and the door flew around to slam into the stone wall behind it. Ebon froze on the threshold. His mother and father looked up sharply from the table, where they had already begun to eat.

“Did you have to run across all the nine lands to get here?” Though Shay Drayden did not raise his voice, disdain dripped from each word, like rainwater sliding down the tiles of the roofs back home.

“I am sorry, Father,” said Ebon, breathing hard. “I was in the garden when—”

But his father had already turned away to resume conversing with his mother. Ebon lowered his head, cheeks burning, and approached the table. A servant pulled out a chair. As he sat and scooted closer to the table, Ebon tried edging away from where his father sat. But they both turned sharply to him, eyes wide, and his father’s lips curled with scorn.

“You smell like every courtesan on the Seat took a shit on you at once, boy. Sit at the other end of the table. I can barely stand the stench.”

“Shay,” said his mother gently. Ebon’s father shut his mouth with a sharp
click
of teeth and turned away.

Ebon rose hastily to follow the command, moving down towards the other end of the table. He did not sit opposite his father—that would no doubt be seen as a great slight, trying to claim the other end of the table, and Ebon with the audacity to sit there. Instead he took a chair just to the left. A servant ran to put a plate of food before him, with seared pork and some strange vegetables he did not recognize. Ebon ignored the vegetables and tore into the meat, his stomach loudly growling. Almost from the moment the greasy meat touched his lips, he could feel his headache subsiding, and gratefully sighed.

He glanced up towards the other end of the table, where his father was now complaining about some perceived slight at the High King’s palace. But Ebon noticed that his mother was looking at him curiously, her eyes playing across his face, eyebrows slightly raised. He ducked and focused on his meal.

Did she know? Could she somehow see it, or sense the truth within him? He dismissed the thought as ridiculous. Yet from the corner of his eye he could still see her, studying him, only turning away to give his father cursory nods and sympathetic sounds at the most appropriate times. But as Shay’s complaints grew in volume and energy, Hesta finally turned her full attention to him, and Ebon vented a long sigh of relief.

But his anxiety at his mother’s lingering eyes had turned his thoughts back to Adara. When he thought of the night before, he flushed where he sat. He could still see the light hazel of her eyes, feel her fingers dragging along his skin. He could almost sense the way she had—

Ebon had to shift uncomfortably in his seat. He found his attention dragged back to the conversation with his father as Shay raised his voice.

“The audacity she has, to keep us waiting for four days now, without
deigning
to grant us so much as a firm appointment.”

“She is the High King, and we must serve at her pleasure,” said Hesta, but her tone spoke only of full agreement with her husband.

“She is an arrogant bitch.”

Ebon’s gaze jerked up at that, and even the servants standing at the room’s edges seemed to tense. Shay ignored them all, and Hesta patted his hand reassuringly. He tore into his meal again, as though he had run out of fuel for the bitter fire that burned in his gut. The peace lasted only a moment, and then he slammed his cup on the table. “Wine!”

A servant scurried to obey. Ebon shook his head—slightly, so that his father could not see—and allowed his mind to wander. His gaze fell upon the eastern wall, made of doors now open to the air, and looked out across the Great Bay until its far reaches vanished beyond the horizon. They had sailed those waters to get here, and would sail them again to return. Any day now, he imagined, unless his father extended the trip until they could finally meet with the High King. He would return to Idris, never having set foot inside the Academy, and even the Seat would fade to a distant memory, until he could scarcely remember the manor where he now sat. Once again he found himself wondering why they had brought him in the first place.