The Apprenticeship of Julian St. Albans (31 page)

“Dr.
Tamlinson says I’ve been putting magic into stuff without knowing it, but I can
tell better now,” said Julian. “He thought maybe that’s why I get
cold so easily.”

“He’s
probably right,” said Dr. Chesterfield. “Now, Paul, you’re really not
that magical to start with.”

“Which
I knew, and it’s Jones, please,” he said with a chuckle.

“Jones,
yes, sorry,” said Chesterfield. “Your protections are basically gone,
but you didn’t have much to start with, and I suspect it won’t take too long to
rebuild, especially in this magic-rich environment.”

“That
matters?” asked Julian curiously.

“It
does, Alex’s wards and all the magical life inside help to create a very
magic-rich space here; it’s like being in a room with extra oxygen, I suppose.
Or a light rain that keeps the ground moist for certain plants, without
creating mud.” The doctor shuffled his notes again. “Finally, the
three of you,” he said, nodding to Alex, Julian and Jones, “are all tainted
with someone else’s magic that’s burrowed into you like a parasitic infection,
and I think if you weren’t in here with the wards it would be slowly draining
away your remaining magics.”

“That’s
what we were afraid of,” said Alex with a sigh. “Do you think the
purification will get it out?”

“I
hope so, though especially with Julian it’s burrowed quite deeply now,”
said Dr. Chesterfield. He turned to Father Stephen. “You’re doing a
magic-assisted salt purge, and what else?”

“Warm
water to wash it away as is traditional,” said Father Stephen, “then
a short meditation, a massage, and potion, followed by a final shower. I
brought several potion options, let me see if anything is suitable.” His
bag floated itself over to him and he grinned, rifling through it, and pulled
out several small boxes, each of which contained five vials of potion cradled
in paper, cloth or cotton.

They
discussed the potions, the conversation becoming quite technical, especially
once Alex and the Guardians joined in. Julian curled himself against Alex’s
chest and let his eyes fall shut, listening to the murmur of Alex’s voice and
the soft underlying beat of his heart.

CHAPTER 18

After
a delicious lunch, they sent Jones in first with Father Stephen. Dr.
Chesterfield stayed long enough to show James and Jacques how to detect any
hint of lingering magic, using the little burrowed hook left in Julian as their
example. Then he left, and Alex called Lapointe to let her know all was clear.

“We’ll
do you last, love, that way you can get debriefed and then nap after your
purification,” said Alex, kissing his hair.

“You
need to nap, too,” said Julian, giving him a poke. “I’m not the one
who fainted.”

“I
do, and I will once she’s talked to me about the new case, I promise.”
Alex’s phone beeped, and he read it and sighed. “Unfortunately, it turns
out Ms. Eberly has an alibi for last night, and so she’s obviously not our
culprit.”

“Did
you ever figure out the timing?” asked Julian curiously. “Though I
guess there hasn’t been time for much more research.”

“Let’s
do that now,” said Alex. He stood and offered Julian a hand, leading all
four of them into his work room. He left the door open so Jones could find
them, and handed each of them a book. “Let’s get Thomas on speaker and we
can get all the details about the people from him; I’ll look the places up on
the internet.”

“I
can do that,” said James, holding his hand out for Alex’s computer.
“You know your library better.”

Julian
got out his phone and dialled, glad to be useful for once. “Agent MacLean?
It’s Julian. Yes, sorry, Thomas,” he said, chuckling, then put the phone
down and switched it to speaker. “I’ve got you on speaker in Alex’s lab,
we want to get all the dates of birth and other details from the three victims
if you have them, so we can see about correlating anything between the sites,
dates, times and people.”

“I
can do that,” said Thomas, and there was a little rustling and some
key-clicking. Julian pulled over a note pad and pencil. “Ready?”

“Ready,”
said Julian. Thomas rattled off the facts and Julian wrote everything down
carefully about the two lost apprentices, from their dates of birth to when
they’d been tested and accepted into the Guild.

“We
identified your customer, too, it turns out you actually did have his phone
number written down wrong,” said Thomas. “His name was Jack Archer,
and he was a local hedge wizard and known crank. He was apparently grumpy about
going to the Temple because he tended to get in arguments with the priests, but
he was talented for all that he was a bit of a crackpot.”

“Wait,
so if he wasn’t the one, how did they get my hair?” asked Julian, brows
furrowing. “I didn’t have time to help many customers Monday before they
sent me home.”

“You’d
best call Mary Margaret and see if she can remember who else you helped,”
said Alex. “But get Jack’s info, first.”

“All
right,” said Julian. Thomas rattled off his various stats, and then they
thanked him and hung up.

“Leave
those with us and go call Mary Margaret,” said Alex. “And maybe get
us more tea?”

“I’ll
ask Alys, greedy,” said Julian, getting a kiss and taking his phone into
the other room. He called Mary Margaret after requesting more tea for the lab,
standing by one of the tall windows that flanked the fireplace and looking out
at the clear August sky.

“Julian,
what can I do for you?” said Mary Margaret by way of greeting.

Julian
couldn’t help but smile at the warmth in her voice. “Mary Margaret, how
are things? Are you all getting on without me?”

“We
are, though the plants are missing you, I think. I hear your new luck garden’s
coming along nicely, is that where you are?” she asked cheerfully.

“No,
I’ve been confined to home, there was a trap laid at our doorstep yesterday,
and someone else was, well, you know, last night,” said Julian, feeling
sad. He moved away from the blue sky and curled up in his reading chair.
“It was Jack, that customer who wanted the lilies.”

“Oh,
you poor lad, and poor him as well for all he was a bit of a fusspot,”
said Mary Margaret. Julian could hear water in the background, and he smiled to
think of her making tea. “Now, what can I do for you?”

“Oh,
right,” said Julian. “Well, it turns out Jack really is, was, a
hedge-wizard in need of ingredients, so I need to see if you can remember who
else I helped on Monday.”

“It
wasn’t many,” she said. “Let me go look at the records while the
kettle boils.” Her voice got further away as she called for Raul to come
man the till, then took her phone back into the office. “Here we
are,” she said, and he heard paper rustle. She still liked to do
everything the old-fashioned way, which he enjoyed when it wasn’t frustrating
him.

“Master
Elkhort came in while Jack was here, that was after I ordered the pizza,”
Julian chuckled. “Did you ever get that?”

“It
did show up, and I was very glad of it by then, as was Raul,” said Mary
Margaret. “Don’t you worry about that now. Let’s see, the first person of
the day was the one who got the flat of mixed herbs and flowers and a few seed
packets,” she said. “Didn’t you help him to his car?”

“Oh,
right, the cranky guy who didn’t want to wait for me to put my shoes on,”
said Julian. “I’d forgotten him entirely.”

“Well,
we had a bit of a rush after him, and you were running around trying to find
things for people who couldn’t believe we might have had to close for a mere
murder,” said Mary Margaret dryly. “Why don’t I make some copies of
this for your police lady?”

“Good
idea, and if anyone used a card to pay, maybe give her that?” said Julian,
trying to remember if anyone else had stood out. “There was that one lady
that had to pick just the right rosemary bush, didn’t she use a card?”

“She
did, I remember her having trouble with the chip-and-PIN machine,” said
Mary Margaret. “I’ll flag her, and the old man, I seem to remember him not
having enough cash for the whole lot.”

“A
couple of people wanted clover and had to go away mad,” said Julian,
thinking aloud. “And there was that one lady who needed flowering lobelia
that day, and we’d have had to order it, but I don’t think I got her
information.”

“You
were on the phone for her for a while,” said Mary Margaret, “but you
did find what she needed at Crow & Branch’s, as I recall.”

“I
did, I can call over and see if she got it,” said Julian. “They won’t
think it’s weird I followed up if I make like she’s a regular.”

“Good
thinking,” said Mary Margaret.

They
talked about a few more of the customers, and managed between them to account
for a memory of nearly every plant sold and a few people that went away
unhappy, including those that left orders for things that weren’t in stock.
Mary Margaret organised her notes while Julian called Thomas to get a fax
number, and then Mary Margaret used their cranky old fax machine to send the
information over. Lapointe arrived while they were finishing up, and Alex and the
Guardians left off their research to let her in and sit in the living room.

“You’re
all looking more chipper,” said Lapointe, sipping tea and organising her
own pile of papers.

“Caffeine
powers the universe,” intoned Alex, and they all chuckled. “Well, and
rest and potions and soon, purification.”

“Now,
for you, my boy,” said Father Stephen, ushering Jones out into the living
room. “If you two would check him for contamination, please?”

“Of
course, Father,” said James, and he and Jacques came over to examine
Jones, looking for any trace of the spell still lodged within his subtle body.

They
took their time, and Jones was relaxed enough from the purification to put up
with it without objecting, even when then lifted his shirt and looked at his
belly and chest, which blossomed with purple bruises.

“He
looks clean to me,” said James. “What do you think?”

“Seems
clean,” said Jacques. “You can put more bruise potion on now.”

“Oh,
thank goodness,” said Jones with a laugh. “Father Stephen didn’t want
it to block your sight, but I do ache.”

“Come
here to the kitchen,” said Alys, “I’ve made a poultice and I’ll take
care of you.”

“Go
on,” urged Father Stephen.

“Her
stuff is really good,” assured Julian.

Jones
grinned. “I’ve no doubt,” he said, following her voice into the
kitchen.

They
all turned their attention away to give him a bit of privacy, and Father
Stephen grinned. “Your turn, Alex.”

“All
right,” said the chosen victim, getting up and following him back into the
bedroom, door shutting after them.

“So,
what do you need from me?” asked Julian, curling back up with a blanket
now that his personal warmer was gone. “I’m going in next, and I intend to
sleep afterward.”

“You
first it is, then,” said Lapointe, and she started from the beginning with
Jones pulling up to the elevator, then got him to tell her the whole story from
his perspective, right up until she’d arrived. He was telling her about a few
of the more memorable customers from Monday when Alex came out and submitted to
his own minute examination.

“You’re
still really depleted,” said James worriedly, “but I don’t see any
foreign magic.”

“Bruises,
but no magic,” said Jacques. “Will Alex also get poultice,
Alys?”

“Yes,
yes, send him in,” she replied. Jones had been sent back out as soon as it
absorbed enough for him to get dressed again, and he was already looking more
relaxed. “How’s your shoulder, lad?”

“It’s
pretty much better,” said Julian, flexing it. “I keep forgetting it’s
there.”

“A
good sign,” said Alex, stealing a kiss before he went into the kitchen.

“It
is, and now it’s your turn. Are you done with him, Murielle?” asked Father
Stephen.

Lapointe
nodded. “Done enough.” She turned back to Julian. “I’ll get the
list brought over once they’ve traced all the card charges, and then we can
talk about your suspicious customers after dinner.”

“That
sounds like a plan, just try to send Alex in for a nap at some point,
too?” said Julian, standing and letting the blanket fall away.

“I
will,” said Murielle, glancing into the kitchen. “He’s still looking
like death warmed over.”

“At
least I don’t look dead anymore,” said Alex, cheerfully flipping her off.

Julian
was happy to leave them with a laugh, after all that. He went into the bedroom
and closed the door behind him. The lights were dim in there, but the bathroom
light shone through the open door so he followed it back to find Father Stephen
preparing a heavy-looking bucket of cold salt water.

“I’m
really not looking forward to this part,” said Julian, finding a dry spot
for his clothes and reluctantly undressing.

“It’s
entirely necessary, I’m afraid, especially if this magic’s burrowed as deep as
they say,” said the priest, but his face and voice were both filled with
sympathy. “The shower’s already warmed up for you, anyway.”

“Good,”
said Julian. “Standing?”

“Kneeling,
please, sitting back on your heels,” said Father Stephen. “I’m not as
young as I used to be.”

“Right,
someone’s got to lift the bucket,” said Julian. He was grateful that the
tub floor was warm, and he resisted the urge to just curl up like a kitten
against the porcelain. Instead he folded himself into a kneeling position, head
bowed and hands in his lap like a penitent.

“Deep
breaths now, just listen to my voice, I’ll be supporting the salt rinse with
magic,” said Father Stephen. “You concentrate on breathing, and think
about all your friends and everyone who’s given you loving energy this week.
Concentrate on that love and your gratitude.”

“Love
and gratitude,” said Julian softly, between breaths. It was easy to give
himself over to that feeling, here in the steamy warmth of his own bathroom,
surrounded by friends and Alex’s strong wards. He let that glow light him up
from the inside out, and giggled when his magic pinged off not only the plants
above them but Horace hiding in amongst the greenery. He made sure to rein in
his power output while extending his senses to feel the layers of Alex-flavored
magic around him, from the amulet sitting on his clothes to the bedroom and
apartment wards, to Alex himself glowing from the kitchen. It wasn’t a glow he
could see, but an impression of warmth and Alex-familiar sensations, love and
protectiveness and a busy mind, worry and even a little fear.

Julian
pulled it all back into his skin, after touching lightly on the other people in
the house, from the strangeness of the brownies to Jones and Murielle’s quieter
auras.
 

He
was so deep in his contemplation that he almost missed it when Father Stephen
said apologetically, “That’s just right. Now brace yourself.”

Julian
held his breath as the cold water poured over him, surrounding him completely
for a brief moment, even making its way beneath him thanks to the Father’s
magic. The salts stung a little, but he could feel them changing the magic
inside him, feel the magic latch on to his own bright, loving glow and pull out
anything that didn’t fit. He gasped when something came unhooked from deep in
his chest, like a thorn pulling free, and he concentrated on pushing that
painful little sharpness right out of him and sending it down the drain with
the water.

“Good,
that’s very good,” said Father Stephen. He kissed Julian’s forehead,
sending warmth back in to join seamlessly with Julian’s magic and start to heal
the damage done by the foreign spell on its way out.

“So
much better,” said Julian, wiping his eyes so he could look up at Father
Stephen. “Thank you.”