Four brief glimpses into the past of the hero of our story, Dee. They cover her induction into, and exit from, the mages guild. These set the stage insomuch as they give us a window into Dee and how she came to be the way she is now.
001. Finding the Tallow
Dark. Impossibly dark. If the cold hadn’t stung my eyes, I wouldn’t have known they were open. My finger throbbed. I’d lost the nail trying to get the door open. Should have stopped the moment I heard the chain barring my way. Dumb. Well, no. Desperate. Not that it matters now.
They’d were relieved when the sheriff came. Not confused. Not alarmed. Relieved. They brought him. Why? What had I done? The necklace? Grandma’s necklace? I’d given it back. It was just so pretty, and it sang so well. I needed to hear it.
“Aaaah oo yy…”
I choked on the gag again, felt it cut into the corners of my mouth. The tears came again. They set the tiny thread of light that pierced through the crack in the cellar doors scattering across my vision.
My ears strained.
“Way his parents told it, he’s sensitive. That or schizophrenic. There’s potential at any rate.”
“Get it over with then.”
The chains rattle, the light widens from a thin line to a shimmering pool. Boots. Heavy boots. There’s a knife in the hand that doesn’t hold the torch. Everything is like ice except my pants.
It’s a big knife. A fighting knife. Cold against my cheek. The gag comes free and I cough. He moves to my hands. I think there were words, but all I hear is ringing and the thumping of my blood in my ears.
“I said stand up. Look at me.” My head whips, his skin is rough, the grip is tight.
“Light the candle if you want to live.” He’s holding it out… what am I supposed to do?
“Go on boy. Take it. Light it if you can.”
As I touch it, I hear it. Not like the other candles, gentle with buzzing and the smell of honey. It’s loud. It screams. Children. Not babies crying, not playing in the fields. Frightened nighttime cries from the dark. I flinch and drop the candle. He picks it up, presses it back into my hands with one hand, pushes the knife to my belly with the other.
“Last chance. Light the candle.”
Maybe they can hear me. Sometimes they can. I pretend they don’t answer, but I know they do. “Please, please, please, please”
“Begging won’t help you…”
The knife slides past the shirt, I cry. Not to the man, to the candle.
We will light, you may wish we hadn’t.
There’s a flash of light, and bubbling tallow on my arms. I scream. So does he. I can’t see, but I remember where the stairs are. Best chance. I bolt. Trip as I find the bottom of the stairs. Back up. Run. Run. Headlong into an old man waiting at the top. Stumble… back down the stairs. My back, then my head. It’s wet again…
002. Burning at Both Ends
She’s nervous. Why is she so damned nervous? Stop fucking pacing, you’ll draw the eye.
“Hush. He’ll come. The stones know.” That worked? No. She’s looking.
“There,” she stabs the clammy night air with a finger. “And two body men.”
A hand on my shoulder. Long squeeze. She’s sad. Why is she sad? What’s coming?
Fewer have been coming back. Not coincidence. A test?
“Start with the target. Just like we practiced.”
Kneel. Look. Blades. Leap. There’s the throat. Roll. Up. Turn. Under the ribs. Drop. Run. Gods I hate that sound. That wet fucking cough. Slow down. Walk. Smooth the pace. Don’t draw suspicion. Turn. Walk long enough to seem deliberate. Move the eyes not the head. Turn. Slow down. Listen. Quiet. Cici must be away too.
I hope I’m wrong. Hand to the thin chain. Find the pendant. Focus…
I hope I’m wrong.
Walk. Edge of town. Look left. Look right. Clear. Go. Across the field. Into the forest at the rock. Just past the hole in the oak.
Unnatural wind. The counterspell. Who cast that?
Cici… oh no. Cici…
She’s already bloodied. Wasn’t trying to subdue me.
Squeeze her shoulder. She’s awake. Look at those eyes. Sad.
“I’m sorry too.”
Wipe off the knife. Get moving. We’re expected.
003. Conventional Warfare
Puff of smoke. Cap it. The potion barely matters. The smoke is what’s active.
“There. Satisfied?”
“Again. If you fail to make the reagent or cast the spell, your cover will be blown.”
Clear the space. Clean the bowls. Reset the space. Once more from the top.
Table salt. An eyelash. Ammonia. One hair. Ginger shavings. Drop of saliva. Lye. Wait on the smoke to form. Cap.
“Good, good. You’ve got it now. No hesitation on the order that time. Now do the invocation. Use the first dose. It should be ready.”
Finally. Grab the bottle. Still warm. Pop the cork. Vapors in. Self out. Change in. Self out. Don’t fall. Spin in. Memory out. Steady.
Steady…
Check the effect. Mirror to the left.
…
Pretty.
That’s… that’s me.
Pressure. Hand. Not alone.
“There are more permanent solutions, Dee. I could teach you. When you return. That is, if…”
No favors. Never favors.
“Y…you misunderstand. It’s the ammonia. How long must I wait between applications?”
“No sooner than every 4 hours. No more than 12 times in a fortnight. It’s not sustainable Dee.”
She saw. She suspects. “Then I’d best be quicker than 3 days.”
A sigh. The hand is still there. Another squeeze.
“They’ll cut your hair Dee.”
My? My… hair. My hair, not Allison’s hair.
“Then they’ll cut it. No worse than the other trials…”
The hand slips away. She’s done fighting. How did she know? Why does she know?
“Fine.”
Terse. Anger, not disgust. Disappointment… in whom?
“Why did Allison’s uncle send her to the convent?”
Another drill? I suppose it cannot hurt.
“Because his wife was a little too fond of my father, his brother, and I look a little too much like my cousin Petrah.” Common, but too awkward to follow up on.
“Good. Now, recite the directions from the dormotory to the reliquary…“
004. The Escape
This is it. This is it, you can do it. And if you can’t do it, well, whatever lies beyond has to be better than this. Let the eyes linger on the recently snuffed candles. Sputtering top row for the infirmary. And… there’s mine. Swap it with the double…scratch my nose and ditch.
In to the cloister. Nod to the Wick. Up the stairs. Left. Left again. Into the room. Close the door. Boots audibly off. Throw yourself onto the bed.
Wait…
Wait…
Ease off the bed. Three boards in. There’s the knot. Pop it in, then lift out the board. Slowly… easy… just a bit above the floor, then down.
Lamp out…
Rope out…
There’s the bag…
Board back in. Knot back in. Hope you help the next poor soul, friend.
Ease out from under the bed. Candle in the lantern, may as well be useful. Bag over the shoulder, rope around the bed post, boots back on…
Why… why hesitate? Nerves? No. Regret… for these? Well, they wanted me more than my family, at any rate. Cici’s gone, and Jane, well, she’ll understand.
Test the rope. Ease open the window. Out we go.
God, fucking stomach. I hate falling.
Kick away…
Slow down, then kick away.
Slow down. Land. Press up against the wall.
…
Not made yet… go…
Breathe… don’t sprint, but don’t dawdle. Heel to toe, heel to toe…
Up the tree… shit, I should have practiced more. Come on, once we hit the branches… there.
Hope this works…gloves off I think… Are you there old friend? I know it’s been some time, but I need help. Remember the gales, bend and help me over the wall.
Oh shit… wrong way… shit… shit… jump when it snaps upright and pray.