CHAPTER SIX
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Iris Everton
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Septos, 926 PC
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Iris stood at the door to her ramshackled apartment, dreading her walk to the university. Autumn had never quite been chilly in Faylawn, cool at best. Such was not the case in Locke. If this was autumn, she was afraid of what winter would bring. She took one last glance at Jameson sleeping on the thin mattress in the middle of her living space. He was wrapped up in her favorite blanket, the one she’d lost control of halfway through the night. Unsure how to feel about the charmer, she gave him a particularly emotionless stare then stepped into the cold darkness. Her cloak did everything it could to stop the morning chill but failed in all accounts. She tucked her bare hands beneath her armpits and set off through lower Locke – the slums, so to speak. This is what it takes to change the world.
She could have stayed in bed, not gotten up hours before her scheduled lecture, but that wouldn’t be enough. No, she had to get up before sunrise. She had to study in the Hall of Histories. She had to observe the experiment the third years were conducting today. Just like she had observed the fourth years the day before and the fifth years the day before that. She’d observe the second years tomorrow too. And then finally, she’d rule over the first years on Friday. She pressed her frozen nose against her shoulder to hide it from the elements for a few precious seconds. This is what it takes to change the world.
About halfway to the university, she turned onto her favorite street, the one that always offered the first glimmers of sunlight. She walked a little faster on this street, a little more confidently. She smiled at the thin orange line of sun that traced the buildings in front of her. Then continued her routine of always keeping her eye out for members of the City Guard. Life as a criminal – though she’d make a strong case for herself that she’d done nothing wrong in the tower – made the black and gold uniforms of the City Guard feel like a disease she had to hide from. Any glance of a guard made her start to sweat and panic. Not to mention they brought a vivid picture of Ceralline lying at the bottom of the shaft, bloody and ruined. No run-ins this morning. Only normal folk, people who couldn’t carry her off to the gallows. No one worth talking to in this weather. She offered only the minimal hellos and good mornings as she passed, begging to keep it at that behind her smile.
A stone wall surrounded the University da Mi’lier. It was plenty tall enough to keep timid trespassers out, but too short to deter ambitious intruders. A mighty iron gate stood at the southeast corner of the campus though it was little more than a silly, albeit, impressive technicality. It swung open with a simple nudge of her boot. Her breath floated into the cold air as she stared at the illustrious school’s inspired architecture and brilliant stone work. The beautiful stained glass windows reminded her of a temple but this building contained more facts than faith. This is what it takes to change the world.
She was first to the common laboratory, as always, after a riveting study session in the Hall of Histories. The laboratory was something straight out of her dreams. Two long workbenches ran parallel across the front of the room, allowing three rows of tables to fill the center. Long stretches of counters and cabinets created a useful perimeter. The glass instruments she’d put on the workbenches and countertops the night before, some she recognized from Faylawn, most she’d only seen in books before arriving in Locke, were still positioned neatly. The floor was well-swept. The oven was clean and ready to use. Yes, everything was just how she liked it. She took her seat in the back of the room. Not her ideal selection but that’s where Master Rellin preferred her on days when she was only observing. Besides, she could see well enough when she sat up even straighter than usual. This is what it takes to change the world.
Eventually, third year students piled into the laboratory, taking any seat that was available. Master Rellin was the last to arrive. Slightly late and with an attitude toward rules not too unlike Jameson’s. A remarkable man, no doubt, but he ran on his own schedule. Needless to say, it drove Iris mad. She dare not mention it though, not this early on in her tutelage. No sense in risking her opportunity to learn from the infamous Master of Alchemy.
When she’d first met the man his large frame and strong features had intimidated her. He had a brow that buried his dark brown eyes in their deep sockets and his beard rivaled that of the legendary Walendar; long and brown, thick, and braided. His hands looked better suited to smash glass than handle it with care but his touch was always gentle. All in all, he was the kind of man that was big by nature but you couldn’t call overweight. There was a low hum throughout the room while he set up for the experiment, friends telling one another what they’d done the night before or chatting about what they might do later that day. She didn’t partake, not that she could with no friends to her name, but that didn’t matter. She was content watching Master Rellin, how he handled beakers, test tubes, alchemicals, anything and everything. This is what it takes to change the world.
When he lifted his hand to tame the room, she bit her lip in anticipation. Most of the other students hadn’t noticed his gesture but they didn’t miss his booming voice. “Good morning!” Now, there was silence. He smiled at the class. “As you have all noticed, the weather is changing. Drastically. And because of that, I’d like to show you a wonderfully efficient way to keep yourself warm in nearly any circumstance.” How wonderfully convenient.
Of course, had she not woken up early, walked through the cold, studied for an hour, and attended an experiment not meant for her, she wouldn’t have had such good luck. But like her father always told her, “You work for your good luck.” This is what it takes to change the world.
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Iris took notes furiously as the third years worked on what Master Rellin called Hot Rocks – chunks of marble dipped in a mixture called Baneleaf and baked in the oven for thirty minutes. A rock in each hand could keep them warm on a cold walk. A group of them could produce a ten foot radius of heat. So far, the process seemed like an overly simple procedure for a third year experiment. First years could have easily completed it. In fact, she intended to do so as soon as she had the lab to herself. The only thing that made Hot Rocks an unsuitable endeavor for younger students was that Baneleaf was extremely poisonous if handled improperly.
There was a steady flow of discussion as well as a potent stench produced by the alchemicals all throughout the room. The kind that seeped into your clothes and hair. Some of the more competent groups were already at the oven, filling the laboratory with a heat that brought familiar beads of sweat to her forehead and dark spots under her armpits. Unattractive but entirely worth it.
The group she was nearest to was anything but competent. Inept, really. To the point that she was unsure how exactly the two women had made it this far into the program. She watched a brunette named Kahmia slosh a forest green liquid around in a beaker. That isn’t right at all. The measurements are so clearly wrong. How could they mess up something so simple? Kahmia turned to her partner, another brunette who had been up late the night before if her half-open eyes were a sign of anything. She had barely spoken all morning.
“Ammelie, I think we did something wrong,” Kahmia said. You did do something wrong, you dense fool. The mixture should be bright green, not dark green. She wanted to slap them both and send them home so she could take over their work space and do the experiment correctly.
Ammelie shrugged like she couldn’t be bothered by anything. “What do you want me to do about it?”
“Just hand me the liquid kuth. I think we need to add more.” No. No. No. Was she not paying attention? Iris looked for Master Rellin, hoping he’d heard the girl’s terrible idea. His back was to them as he watched a student slide her chunks of marble into the oven.
“Where is it?” Ammelie asked. Kahmia was studying the beaker in the sunlight as she pointed to a drawer beneath their desk.
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Iris could see the deadly accident bumbling down the road as Ammelie grabbed a dark brown jar from the drawer and slid it across the table. Kahmia sat the beaker full of tainted Baneleaf down and popped the lid off the jar. Iris’s hands were now drenched in sweat, her heart pounded on her sternum. No, you idiot. You can’t do that. Not with Baneleaf. He just explained that. The brunette lifted the jar, Iris looked at Master Rellin’s back once more, then shouted, “Stop!” She lunged across the gap between her seat and Kahmia’s desk to grab her arm. The jar fell out of the girl’s hand, bouncing off the table then shattering on the floor. Glass and liquid shot in every direction. Every pair of eyes in the room was staring at her. Even Ammelie’s tired ones were now wide open.
“What in the three hells are you doing?” Kahmia asked angrily.
“You were going to kill yourself.”
Kahmia’s eyes narrowed in skepticism. “What are you talking about?”
“She’s right,” Master Rellin said, crossing the room slowly, his anger obvious but well restrained. His shoulder-length black hair bounced and swayed as he encouraged the other groups to pay attention to him. He grabbed a broom leaning against the wall and handed it to Kahmia. He licked his dry lips before saying, “How could you be so foolish?”
“It’s just kuth,” Kahmia said.
“Aye. T’is just kuth,” he said sarcastically. “But once your initial mixture settled, it became quite susceptible to irritation. If you had put more kuth into that beaker a very strong, very deadly scent would have seized your nervous system the moment it entered your nostrils. You would have died in a matter of minutes. Very painful minutes I might add. Who knows how many others you may have brought down with you.” He looked around the room. “A powerful lesson for all to have learned.”
Kahmia looked at Master Rellin, then Iris. “You could have just told me that.”
Iris wasn’t sure what to say.
“Would you have listened?” Master Rellin asked. “Because I made it quite clear how important it was to take perfect measurements before we started.” Kahmia lowered her head in shame. “Now clean this up and leave. Both of you,” Master Rellin said to the partners. “And thank The Creator Iris was here to stop you from making a horrible mistake.” He patted Iris’ shoulder then slid his hand across her upper back as he tucked in close to her ear. “Well done.”
She smiled.
*~~~**~~~*
By the time Iris sat down in the university’s luscious lawn that afternoon, the temperature had risen considerably. Weather she could enjoy. However, she was still quite sweaty and smelled like various odors from the laboratory. Which was to say, she stunk. Jameson laid a basket of food between them and sat down, stretching his legs out and crossing his ankles as he leaned back on his hands.
“Reckon you’re sweatin’ worse than a whore talkin’ to The Creator,” he said, making a playful face after they kissed. “Stink too.”
Iris made her own, less playful face. “Thanks for noticing.”
“Nobody’s ever said autumn is Locke’s best season, that’s for sure. Mum used to call it a cock made of fire and ice. Fuck ya with the heat during the day and the cold at night.”
Iris often had no words to adequately address whatever wild thing Jameson had said to her. This was one of those times. Instead, she just looked around at the other students on the lawn, hoping they weren’t too put off by the crude visitor, and more importantly, that they weren’t judging her for being with him. Not a single person seemed to know they were there.
She opened up the basket, excited to eat for the first time in hours, but frowned when she saw a purple lotus sitting on top of her sandwich. “What’s this?” She picked the flower up carefully.
“Went over to the lake outside the city to see if any were growing over there this time of year. Ya said it was your favorite, didn’t ya?”
She spun the flower around with her fingers. “It is.” She didn’t want to look at the flower, to see what it meant beneath its beauty, but her eyes were fixated on it. Her mind was lost in memories.
Jameson sat up straighter, sensing her sadness. “Then what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She tried to smile. “I appreciate you thinking of me.” She leaned over and pecked him on the cheek.
It took a lot to fool a man like Jameson and this was hardly her best attempt. “I ain’t blind, Iris. What’s wrong?”
“It just reminded me of my sister, that’s all. It was her favorite too.” She’d mentioned Candice to him before, in passing, but they’d never truly discussed her death or the scar it had left on Iris’ heart.
“Ah. I’m sorry. Reckoned it’d make your day. It’s so pretty-n-all. Just like you.”
She managed to do a better job smiling this time. “It does. I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.” She twirled the flower some more, watching each pedal pass by slowly. “Candice saw its symbology before I did.” Jameson’s head swung low like he couldn’t believe his kind gesture had signed him up for a lecture on flowers. She didn’t care. She wanted to tell him. “They need mud to grow. Did you know that?”
He nodded toward his muddy boots. “Knew they could grow in mud, didn’t know they had to have it.”
“Indeed they do. And yet they become something beautiful. Just like our father told us… Come from nothing to become something the whole world can appreciate.”
“Sounds like a lotta work,” Jameson said, reaching into the basket.
“I’m sweating like a whore, aren’t I?”
“Like a whore talkin’ to The Creator, sweetheart. Means somethin’ a little different the way ya said it.” He took a sizable chunk out of his sandwich and smiled at her innocence as he chewed.
She could tell he’d moved on so she did too. “How has your day been?” The corners of his mouth fell, forming a frown she’d only ever seen on his face a handful of times before. It was she who pried now. “What’s wrong?”
He waited for a group of students to walk past, smiling and wagging two fingers at them like he’d known them for years. “I need t’tell ya somethin’. Lords, I’ve been meaning to for a while now, but it just never feels quite right.” There was a flutter of nerves in her chest. He did this often, blindsided her with some horrible news that he’d been sitting on for days or weeks at a time. He took another bite and poke with his mouth full. “Ya remember Ceralline?”
“Do I remember her? How could I possibly forget her?”
“Right. Well, the High Chamber’s real worked up over her death. I still see their little pups sniffin’ around the tower every other day. Word in the pub is the City Guard will pay fifty Leos for anybody that can give ‘em a lead. People’ll look under rocks they wouldn’t normally fuck with for that kind of reward.”
Fifty Leos weren’t quite enough to live on forever but that much money could change a life and countless people in Locke were looking to change their circumstances.
Had she not already been drenched in sweat, she would be now. “Has anything been said?”
“What is there t’say? Nobody saw us there.”
“That’s what we thought that day too and look at what happened.” Dammit, how could he stay so calm?
He took another bite of his sandwich. “Aye. Bad luck, ay?” Bad luck just finds you. “But it ain’t like we tucked a damn confession in her pocket. Three hells, they have her body and can’t figure nothin’ out, Iris. We got a better chance of shittin’ gold than those fools have of figuring out what we did.”
“Shh.” She looked around the lawn again. The other students were still caught up in their own lives and conversations. None of which involved a murder they’d committed, she was sure. She ran her hand through her sweaty hair, eyes wide, already thinking of ways to divert the City Guard away from herself.
Jameson covered her hand, pressing it to the ground. “Relax, Iris. I’ve done this kind of stuff before. It ain’t hard to get away with. Ya just have to keep calm.”
“You’ve done this before?!” He’d come clean with much of his seedier activities, but he’d never mentioned murder.
He shrugged. “Not this exactly, but I reckon I’m always doin’ something the City Guard wouldn’t like.”
“I just wish you hadn’t told me they are still investigating. ”
“Reckon I had to.” He pulled his dagger from his belt and stabbed an apple inside the basket. He bit into it while it was still impaled. “In case they come knocking or if ya hear something when I ain’t around. Didn’t want ya having this reaction with someone else.”
She sat in silence, looking at the dagger. She’d felt such a rush that day. Jameson had pulled something out of her that she’d never known was in her; a thirst for vengeance. But that had faded by the time she’d reached the bottom of the spiral staircase. The remnants of an enchanted smile on Ceralline’s face, her twisted body, her shattered skull, they’d brought tears to Iris’ eyes. She didn’t sleep through the night for weeks. Her moods were still all over the place when she was anywhere but in the lab. She’d even considered turning herself in, or at the very least, not seeing Jameson again. But he’d sensed her wariness. He’d sat her down and explained their situation and what would happen to them if they were caught in gruesome detail.
He put his hand on the side of her face and brought her eyes to his. “Remember what I told ya now.”
“Without you, I’ll end up in the gallows,” she said softly. He nodded. Her concerns melted away as her eyes met his and he pulled her lips close.