Chapter 30: Master?, Master!, and Burrito Rug (part 2)

We had to stand in line at the Alchemy Guild, waiting for the counter person to get around to us. It wasn’t a very long line, but the elf at the counter seemed to take pleasure in moving as slowly as possible. Bureaucracy at its finest, the bottom of the pecking order looking to fulfill a power fantasy.

We’d walked in, chatting about nothing, and I saw a line of three people. Not too bad, I thought to myself. If I could get the potion back to Master Alric in a timely fashion, that left me time to work on some personal projects. I went to take my place at the back of the line when Magali nudged me and pointed to a contraption on the wall next to the door.

“You need to grab a number, Book.”

A number? Please, no. I looked at the red-painted, wheel-shaped object that stuck straight out of the wall, with a paper ticket hanging out of the end. Inked in red on the white tear tab was the number, ‘13’. I tried to resist the call of the letters on a sign attached to the wall next to the dispenser, but the surrealism grabbed hold of me and shook me uncontrollably. I didn’t know if I should laugh, cry, or run in a circle and cluck like a chicken.

“Please take a number. Someone will be with you shortly.”

My body shook with restrained…laughter? Hysteria?…and I tore luck number ‘13’ from the roll. Sometimes, the similarities hit me harder than the differences. Floating orbs, or, hell, a tiny faerie tracing a sparkling ‘13’ in the air with a magic wand would impact me less.

“Book, are you OK?”

“Hehehe,” I giggled. “Now serving, number six-hundred-sixty-six.”

“What? No, it says thirteen.”

I looked at my friend, the giggles threatening to overwhelm me.”Right, lucky number thirteen.”

“Lucky? Three and nine are lucky, everybody knows that, but I’ve never heard of thirteen being lucky.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

“Let me guess, another quirk of Boulder?” Magali smiled as he poked fun at my supposed backwater of a hick town. If he only knew.

“Yeah, something like that.” I wasn’t about to explain the human perversity for our twisted, backhanded propensities. In other words, opposite day. Bad is good; fire is cool.

I went to stand behind the others, but the much more experienced Magali pulled me to a row of hard seats along the back wall, next to a side door.

“We are in a bit of a hurry, Magali,” I protested as he took a seat. “Master Alric was looking pretty crappy when I left.”

“Trust me, the last thing you want to do is stand in that line. That’s Maldyn at the counter, and he likes to make everything as hard as possible on people. It makes him feel powerful, or something. Just petty and small-minded, and we all know it.”

“We all’? Are there apprentice meetings every third Sunda…Nine-day or something? You all get together and plan the downfall of society over tea and scones?” It certainly felt like there was a sort of underground apprentice network. Would they have special passwords? Magical decoder rings? I wanted one!

“Ha! No, but we do talk to each other. That’s how I know where to get cheap supplies. And if I don’t know somebody, then I know someone who knows somebody. Anyway, Maldyn doesn’t even rate an apprenticeship anymore. He is kind of a cautionary tale, a guy who drifted from craft to craft, never finding something he could even be mediocre at. His last try was here before Masters started locking their doors at the sight of him.

The rumor is, that the Alchemy Guild Masters agreed to let him work here, and a group of Maldyn’s former potential Masters actually pay his salary. He is the highest-paid clerk in Oakheart.”

I snorted. Yeah, a well-paid flunkie was good cause for mockery.

“Why give him a position at all?” I asked. “There are all kinds of mundane jobs, and I’m sure someone would hire him. The world needs more than [mana] users.” The word ‘mundane’ always felt kind of…dickish, to me. An insult the more elite put down in arrogance. I’d worked my share of fast food and retail, and knew it was the little guys that kept the world running. I went out of my way to treat my comrades-in-arms with respect. But, yes, there was always that guy, too. Obviously, here that was Maldyn.

“Because he has power,” Magali shook his head sadly. “A lot of power, reputedly, just no control. He’s dangerous, wild with [mana]. Here, they keep an eye on him. Again, it’s a rumor, but they say the Alchemists force him to take potions to suppress his [mana].”

Yeah, that was so a horror picture in the making. Stephen King, Wes Crave, and Bloomhouse, all vying for his life’s rights. It made sense to pay him to essentially do nothing. Don't poke the firestarter.

“So, he still feels entitled to power, and it's reinforced with money, leading him to be a royal pain in the ass. Got it.”

“That’s pretty much it, Book, yep. Woe to the people he ‘helps’,” Magali made air quotes. “But he only hurts pride, not limbs and life, this way.”

“So, what? Are we waiting for him to go on break or something? I really don’t think we have the time, Magali.” I was stating feel guilty for taking the detour to drop off my ‘new’ rug.

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“No, we are waiting for…that.”

Before Magali could finish his sentence, the door we sat next to flew open and bashed against my knee.

“Ouch!” OK, I exaggerated a tad.

“Sorry, sorry,” a hurried voice reached me. A young elf looked around the door at me, both distracted and apologetic. “Nobody usually sits there.”

“No probs,” I told her, regretting my overreaction. I think I was just both worked up with worry and bored with waiting.

The girl was rather pretty, in a plain sort of way (excuse you? Make sense!). Her short brown hair was spiked, with electric blue tips that matched her eyes. She was pleasantly plump, making me rethink the whole [mana] makes everyone too skinny perception. Probably resulting from the never-ending hunger that wasted me to a rib cage you could play the xylophone on. Apprentices were poor, good food cost coin, so no mystery. And who’s to say my bioengineering wasn’t a cut-rate, bargain-basement hack job? Probably faulty implants, too (??@!!).

Jeezzze! A jolt of electricity clacked my teeth together. W…T…F?!

The other two gave me a weird look—amazing what you can get used to—but I was too rattled to do anything other than blow it off.

“Book, this is Gaelia,” Magali said pointedly. “Master Tounsel’s apprentice? He sends her to get black tea and a gooseberry scone from Karlinne’s at this time, every day.”

Oh. I gathered the wisps of my wits and did my best to ignore the zap. Say that three times. I stood and gave Gaelia a friendly nod. “Good to meet you!”

“OK?” She seemed frazzled at my enthusiasm.

“Yeah, so, my Master, Alric of “Papers & Powers”, sent me to fetch him a potion. He gets them from your Master. See, he dropped his last flask, shattering it (giving you some new decor, ungrateful twit!) and needs a new one before schedule.”

“Yes, I know Master Alric. He has a…complicated…relationship with my Master.”

“Do you think you could help my friend, Gaelia? It’s a bit pressing.” The gleam in Gaelia’s eyes when she looked at Magali told a tale. One of a major crush.

“Sure, Magali,” she said with a wide smile. Her front teeth, well, they could use the help of a good orthodontist. As if sensing my thoughts, she pressed her lips tight together, but still kept the smile. I instantly felt bad at my thoughts and smoothed my comb-over with a hand.

She motioned for us to follow her, then led us past the counter—Maldyn’s glare at bypassing him could have melted a person on the spot. Feeling cheeky, I waved my ‘13’ tag at the man as we passed the threshold of his domain. I smiled too, OK? Not a complete jack-ass.

Our fellow apprentice walked us down a hall, making a series of turns that made me grateful for my [mini-map]. After tramping down a dank set of stone stairs—why was such a great Master delegated to the dungeon?—we came to a heavy, iron-banded door with a tiny barred window set in it. The ‘dungeon’ crack had been a joke, but seriously? Come on.

“Master?” Gaelia rapped the knuckles of her free hand on the wood, balancing her Master’s mid-morning snack on the other. A set of quick footsteps approached the door, and the little door covering the window slid quickly aside. I got the impression of the man standing on his tiptoes to look out at us.

“Gaelia? Who is with you?” The voice matched the steps, quick and clipped. And none too friendly.

“You know Magali, sir, Mr. Wordsworth’s son,” she said, then gestured to me. “This is…Book?” I nodded, including both of them. “He is Master Alric’s apprentice.”

“Alric, that bastard? What does he want? I shouldn’t have to deal with that man for another month, at least!”

“Yes, Master.”

Ha! It seemed all apprentices had that loaded up and ready. Self-preservation, giving a safe, noncommittal affirmation. The more things differed, the more they were the same, the galaxy over.

“Can we come in, Master, so we don’t have to talk through the door.” Not quite a question, Gaelia said it with the ease of familiarity, like an old hand at appeasing an eccentric Master. Maybe she could give me some lessons.

“Fine,” the one word was barely audible past the wood’s thickness. The window slammed shut, and we could hear the sound of a stool being pushed to the side. Next came a series of clicks, as what sounded like a half dozen locks being turned. It took a minute, but the portal finally swung inwards enough to allow us entrance.

What I saw inside was a mad scientist’s dream. Beakers and burners, those spiraling condensing tubes, bubbling cauldrons, and anything Dr. Jekyll could ever want. The light was dim, with high, barred windows grudgingly admitting sunshine. Vapors pooled overhead like a multicolored cloud. If I see lightning, I was going to hightail it out, anyone in my way be damned.

As I looked around, I spotted one corner where a multitude of stained and rolled-up rugs leaned in a sagging huddle, half supported against the stones of the wall. Rug disposal could be a lucrative business around here. Or a second-hand store catering to apprentices. ‘Are your floors bare? Do your feet slip and slide between the bedroom and kitchen? Do you live on a mere pittance? Come down to Carpet Joe’s, we have a deal for you! Stains, burns, mysterious odors, we have them all!’ Of course, it wouldn't be complete without a wacky waving inflatable tube guy!

Master Tounsel was short and Einstein-looking. Big surprise, huh? As soon as we were inside the room, he shut the heavy door and twisted the locks closed. I’d never been claustrophobic, and the room was large enough to park a quintet of buses in, but each click! of a lock sent shivers along my bones. Were scrolls of [teleport] a thing? If not, I was going to make it my life’s goal to invent them.

Tounsel thrust a hand at me, the suddenness making me skip a half-step back. He gestured impatiently, expecting me to understand without a word.

He gave a grand sigh, impressive in its gusto. “Payment, apprentice! Are you slow? Shouldn’t surprise me, since Alric took you on.”

I made an instinctive move to obey, only stopping when my Master’s words came back to me, ‘Get the potion first, understand?’

“Potion first.” I paused. “Sir.”

His eyes narrowed, and he grumbled like a dwarf (how would you know?), I imagined. Orcs and Elves were real, so who is to say otherwise?

I felt Marky-mark grumble.

Zap! Dammit. It was mild, but it still irked me. 'We need to sit down and have a long talk, you'.

I could see a fight brewing on Tounsel’s countenance. He wasn’t going to give in.

“Master!”

“Fine,” Tounsel pulled his hand back. “Come back in two hours.”

That was it? “Don’t you want to know why he needs it early?” Whatever ‘it’ was.

“No. Don’t care.” He dismissed us and headed to a collection of beakers. Were all Master crafters sullen? Or just Alric's acquaintances? Mr. W. was cool.

Magali and I looked at each other, and he smiled wide, obviously enjoying my disbelief. I must look poleaxed. Love that word.

“This way, please.” Gaelia motioned to the locked door, then looked for a place to set down her burden of tea and pastry. Before she could find an uncluttered spot, the bag and cup floated off her palm, sailing smoothly across the room to land on a counter between an overflowing cauldron and a steaming flask.

Wow, that was cool. Unsanitary, but cool. I’d be afraid to consume it. Or anything from this room, matter a fact.

“Come on, Book,” said Magali. “I’m craving gooseberries all of a sudden. We can wait at Karlinne’s, my treat.”

The sounds of Gaelia unlocking the door was a balm to my senses.

“OK. Your treat, Magali.”

I worried about the time, scared something bad would happen to my Master. But, since everybody else was taking it in stride, I guess I could too.

“No gooseberries.”