The Apprenticeship of Julian St. Albans (16 page)

“We’re
very lucky,” said Julian, taking a seat and accepting his tea from Alex in
exchange for a kiss. “They’ve been quite tolerant of us while we got used
to them.”

“Except
for the blue thing,” said Jones, amused.

“That
was actually pretty tolerant, too,” said Alex. He usually found it funny,
now that the colour had faded. “Angry fae can do a whole lot worse.”

“There’s
quite a few cautionary tales along those lines,” said Father Stephen.
“It’s wise of you to appreciate your good fortune.”

“Did
Murielle call yet?” asked Julian plaintively, even though he knew it
wasn’t really soon enough. Sitting where it was warm and comfortable had made
him aware of how depleted he was.

They
laughed when a small plate of starters appeared in front of each of them, Julian’s
piled the highest for once, though Alex and Stephen both had more than Jones.

“I’d
complain about getting the short plate, but I know where you guys get your
metabolisms,” teased Jones, picking up his plate and popping one of the
little bite-sized morsels into his mouth. “Mmmm, and if the starters are
this good, I want room for dinner.”

Julian
giggled and picked up his plate. Alys had made some sort of tiny baked
dumplings, full of good-smelling things. He bit into one and made a sound of
happy surprise at the sharp, early apple baked in with cheese and herbs.
“Oh, these are good, there’s apple!”

“Probably
from Emmy,” said Alex, taking a bite of one of his own. “Mmm, and
this one’s mushroom, so definitely Emmy.”

“The
cheese is Benedict,” said Alys, though she didn’t deign to appear, so her
voice floated disembodied on the air. “Dinner will be at least another
hour.”

“These
will tide us over,” Julian assured her. “They’re amazing.”

“Good,”
she said, sounding smug.

A
rain of compliments from all of them followed, and Julian got an impression of
satisfaction from the direction of the kitchen. They set to eating, chatting
all the while about things other than the case, about Alex’s latest experiments
in charms and amulets, and Julian’s studies, Jones’ promotion and Father
Stephen’s new group of acolytes. Julian snuggled up to Alex and let the warmth
of the room fill him up until he was glowing with happiness.

Eventually
Murielle joined them, and they moved into the kitchen to eat the magnificent
pot roast that Alys had made. She’d flavoured it with more fresh herbs and red
wine, and there were new potatoes, caramelised onions, and big chunks of carrot
that had roasted with the meat. She’d made rich gravy and fresh bread, and
there was a big bowl of greens sautéed with garlic and mushrooms that Alex
tried to skip and ended up with some on his plate anyway. Everything was rich
and delicious and plentiful, and Murielle went with their tacit exclusion of
the case as a topic for discussion.

Everyone
left after a dessert of more of those lovely little pastry bites, these filled
with peaches and cinnamon, pears and ginger, or late summer berries. Jones
volunteered to take Father Stephen home, and when they closed the door, Alex
pulled Julian close.

“That
was a good idea, love,” said Alex. They shared sweet kisses until Julian
was purring and ready to drag Alex off for a different sort of alone time.

“Do
you really need to work tonight?” asked Julian, rubbing against Alex with
his whole body.

Alex
grinned down at him. “I really don’t,” he said, and they made their
way into the bedroom for a very different sort of renewal.

CHAPTER 10

The
next morning, Julian woke with his alarm to find Horace waiting patiently by
his phone. He checked it, but there were no new messages, and then he noticed
that another note was tucked inside the bronze cage of Horace’s body. “Oh,
I see,” he said, quietly so as to let Alex, who was determinedly sleeping
curled in a ball away from the alarm, continue to do so.
 

“Come
on,” said Julian, putting out his hand so Horace could hop up onto his
shoulder. He took his phone and the bird into the bathroom to freshen up, then
brought both out to the living room to read before he got dressed. A cup of tea
was waiting for him along with a big plate of last night’s pastries, a mix of
sweet and savoury that made a perfect breakfast. Julian opened Horace up and
read Alex’s note to himself as he ate.

My Dearest Julian,

I thought of telling you in person how much
your letter meant to me, but instead I put it with the others where I can look
at it any time I want and I’m giving you another keepsake in return. Assuming
you keep them, of course.

You’re off to work today where you belong. It’s
been a luxury to have you at my side these past days, but I can’t say that it’s
one I want all the time. I see how the violence eats at you, and I don’t want
you to have to toughen up your tender heart.

It was beautiful to see you giving life back
where it had been stolen away. I feel like that sometimes, you know, that you
renewed me when I had let myself wither.

And now I wonder if that’s romantic or I just
sound like a prat.

I love you, my Julian. I’ll see you later.

Yours always,

Alex

Julian
was grinning fit to burst as he folded the letter back in the elaborate little
design Alex had made for him. He went to the writing desk he shared with Alex
and pulled out his big keepsake box, unlocking it with a key before slipping
this note in with the rest of Alex’s letters. He had his other Courtship correspondence
in a different box; this one was entirely devoted to him and Alex. He thought
about writing back right away, but instead he decided to let it sit for a while
and write back later, when he’d had time to figure out what he wanted to say.
 

It
would give him something to think about today at work besides the reason for
his precipitous vacation.

Julian
woke Alex enough for a nice long kiss after he finished getting dressed. Alex
smiled sleepily at him and promised he’d be up in time to get some work done,
then pulled the duvet over his head and went right back to sleep. Julian rubbed
his head through the blanket and headed out to the nursery, feeling strong
enough to face whatever would come. Alys appeared to assure him that she didn’t
mind the extra guests, give an extra pastry, and get him to switch out their
fairy-bread offering.

The
nursery felt bright and welcoming when Julian went in, with no sense that the
wards had been broached overnight. He decided to walk his rounds barefoot,
wanting to make sure there were no disturbances, so he stowed his shoes in the
office before starting to walk the paths. “How are you all today?” he
asked the plants, extending that strange sense of his and finding he could
‘hear’ much better than he had before.

The
plants were very happy with the new blessing and wards, with the sunny August
day, the good watering they’d gotten the day before, and Julian’s presence
among them. The lucky clover was already looking fuller, and Julian could feel
it working extra hard to grow fast and populate the huge plot it had been
given. “We’ll bring you some friends soon, too, but you’ll be the heart of
our lucky clover,” said Julian. They’d put a decorative garden stake next
to the plant so that they’d always know not to sell that one, though Julian had
a feeling he, at least, wouldn’t need the visual.

“And
you,” Julian said, going around the bend to where there were other magical
plants waiting, “you are all doing so well, not a wilting plant in
sight.” He could feel the glow of potential coming off of them, along with
a contentment that made Julian feel very at peace. He gave back some energy to
each of them, though he was careful to just give a sprinkling and not drain
himself the way he had yesterday.

The
rest of his walk went the same way, plants reporting health and happiness and
Julian rewarding them with a little bit more energy. The virgin greenhouse had
been cleared out of anything that didn’t require its controlled environment,
and Julian spent some extra time in there making sure the fire orchid and other
delicate plants were in balance and growing well after their ordeal. He spent
an equal amount of time in the other greenhouse checking on the flowers there,
talking to them while he made sure they had everything they needed.

Mary
Margaret was at the front counter when he came back, a pot of tea brewing and a
big smile on her face. “Everything must be fine, you’ve got that look they
get up at the Temple, like you’re all full of the peace of nature,” she
said cheerfully.

“It
is, thank you. I should visit our ward-thistle again, though. I was
concentrating on the other plants, but I wanted to make sure you were ready to
open,” said Julian.

“And
get a cuppa,” said Mary Margaret, not fooled for a moment.

Julian
grinned. “And that,” he allowed. He gave a big stretch and felt
something in his back pop, then came over to pour their cups while she made
sure the till was ready to go. “Does it feel better to you?”

“Does
what?” she asked, distracted by counting the change.

“The
nursery. It feels so much better to me today, full of sunshine and just…
cleaner. Happier,” he said, putting her tea on the counter. They had
sturdy clay mugs for everyday work, and kept a supply of paper cups for anyone
else who might want a spot of tea. It was one of the things Julian had liked
when he first started, that anyone who might want a cuppa would be given one,
purchase or not. The tea wasn’t anything fancy, but she bought it in big tins
and always kept sugar and fresh milk on hand.

Mary
Margaret closed up the cash drawer and picked up her tea, then leaned against
the counter and gave his question careful consideration. “I didn’t notice
it right away, but I was more worried about whether we’d remembered to get
change and if anyone would show up. Now that I’m thinking about it, though, I
reckon you’re right.”

“Good,”
said Julian. He kissed her cheek and took a shortcut back toward the middle of
the nursery, squatting down next to the ward-thistle with his toes curled in
the dirt.

“Look
at you, you’re doing marvellously. You’ll be twice as tall in no time, and all
properly tangled up in your ward-fence,” said Julian. The plant sent back
warm contentment and pride, and a little curious inquiry. “Oh this? It’s
tea, here, you can have a little, too much is bad for you, though,” he
said, dripping a bit onto the soil around the plant. He charged it with some
extra energy as he did, and his next sip of tea had a strange ozone kick to it
as a result. “Oops, guess I got the whole cup,” he said.

Julian
took another sip, savouring the strange sensation, like drinking sunlight.
“Feels nice, anyway. Don’t you think so?”

The
plant radiated pleasure at him, and Julian took a moment longer to enjoy it
before he headed back to the front counter to start the day’s work.

Mary
Margaret was already ringing up someone’s purchase, so Julian slipped around
the counter to help her pack the plants onto a flat box for the customer.

“Can
your lad carry these to the car for me?” asked the older man, pocketing
his change. He looked familiar, but there were a lot of regulars that had known
Mary Margaret for years and mostly ignored her assistants, so Julian didn’t
bother to try to dredge up the association.

“I
can, I just need to get my shoes back on, sorry,” said Julian, embarrassed.
The man looked put out, but Julian scampered back to the office and washed his
feet in the sink there, barely bothering to dry them before he donned shoes and
socks and came back out.

“There
you are, I was about to give up on you,” said the customer crabbily,
gesturing to the flat of plants.

“Sorry,
sir, the parking lot isn’t safe to go barefoot,” said Julian, testing the
balance on the flat before hefting it. “After you.”

“Don’t
know why you’d have your shoes off, anyway,” muttered the man, scurrying
out the front door. He didn’t bother to hold it for Julian, who had to catch
the edge of the door with his foot before it closed, then struggle to get
through it with the awkward box. The man was waiting impatiently at his car
when Julian got to him, but Julian forced himself to smile brightly. “Back
seat or trunk, sir?”

A
curt gesture indicated the open car door, and Julian managed not to roll his
eyes until he had turned away to get the box settled. He got a little tingle of
warning and turned back with another toothy grin just in time to see the man
snatch his hand back. Julian checked his pockets with no subtlety at all as he
asked, “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No,”
said the customer, looking grumpier than ever.

Fortunately,
whatever he’d been after he hadn’t managed to take, as Julian’s things were all
still where they belonged. “You have a nice day, then,” said Julian
cheerfully, pointedly watching him drive off before he went back into the
nursery.

“He
was a bit of an arse, wasn’t he?” said Mary Margaret. “Finish your
tea, and I’ll pour you another before we start on herb-lore. Those gardens are
intact, so it’s a good time to explain why it’s arranged the way it is.”

“Yes,
ma’am,” said Julian with a smile. “Plus, we can see the door from
there.”

“That
had crossed my mind.” She gestured for him to hurry up, so he finished his
power-laced tea, feeling it rush through him and then fade to a warm glow. She
refilled their cups and checked that everything was safe up front, and they
made their way to the herb garden for the day’s lesson.

She’d
just started her explanation when the bell over the door rang three times in a
row, and they were both needed to help customers. One would have made a special
order, but the mage needed it that day, so Julian spent several minutes calling
around until he could find someone who had the plant in stock. After sending
that woman’s money to the magical ingredients hothouse across town, Julian rang
up several cheap potted plants for a man looking to suck up to his wife but
unwilling to pay for something better.

Then
came a string of irate people who couldn’t believe they’d been closed for a
whole week because of some silly murder, which was exhausting for Julian even
though Mary Margaret fielded most of those. “I’m going to order in
lunch,” said Julian, when Mary Margaret had a moment between complainants.
“Fancy a pizza?”

“Oh,
you are a love, I really do. One piled high with everything you can stand, I’d
even eat the little fishes if you really wanted,” she said with a grin and
a wink.

“I’ll
get something good,” Julian assured her. He called the place around the
corner, but they were so swamped that delivery wasn’t going to be for nearly 90
minutes.

“I’m
sorry,” said Julian, emerging to see two people trying to yell at Mary
Margaret at once. “Can I help you?” He directed himself at the man,
who seemed the most intent on talking over everyone.

“I’m
here for my special order,” said the man, and it clicked in Julian’s mind
why he looked so familiar. This was the customer who’d ordered the virgin
lilies, and who’d taken such care with his lucky clover choices. “You’ve
had more than long enough to acquire my lilies.”

“I’m
afraid your lilies were a casualty of the unfortunate incident the week before
last,” said Julian, leading him a few steps away from where Mary Margaret
seemed to be making progress with the woman. “We’d have re-ordered, but
you didn’t answer our messages, may I double check your information?”

“No!”
he said irritably. “I need them today, I can’t wait any longer.”

“The
main Temple of Purification should have them available for a suitable
donation,” said Julian. “Do you know where it is?”

“Of
course I know, that thing’s an eyesore when there’s any sun at all.” The
man huffed. “You’re sure you don’t have them in?”

“I’m
sorry, sir, we’re having to re-stock that entire greenhouse,” said Julian
apologetically. “We have the plants, but they’re no longer suitable for
spell use.”

They
had moved even further away from the counter, now, along the path toward the
greenhouse in question. The customer, whose name Julian remembered as Jack
something, huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, at least I
can get more clover, you’ve got to have that, at least.”

Julian
had a sinking feeling, and he sighed. “No, sir, that’s the other thing
that was damaged. The whole patch was a loss.”

They
rounded the corner, where you could see the one lush plant standing in the
middle of its plot of bare earth. “Well, what about that one?”

“That
one’s not for sale, sir, surely as a mage yourself you’re familiar with the
need for a seed plant for the luck to grow strong,” said Julian. He wasn’t
explaining it well, but honestly, the annoyance was starting to grate.
“We’ll be getting new plants as soon as possible, but that one isn’t for
sale.”

Jack’s
eyes narrowed, and he looked like he was going to protest when Mary Margaret’s
voice interrupted him. “Julian! Can you come here for a moment,
dear?”