The girl next to Gray kept talking, even after being reprimanded by a gold-masked Ellery Drake, two other gold-masked royal guards, and a surly looking teenage mage who’d deemed herself in charge.
‘Everyone here is an apprentice,’ the girl next to Gray whispered. ‘Except for him.’ She pointed at a startled-looking mage in black robes. ‘Journeyman. And him. Journeyman. Journeyman, journeyman. Journeywoman.’
Gray gave her a non-commital sound and tried to put distance between them, scooting his chair slightly away.
‘You know the levels within the guild, right?’ she continued, scooting her chair to close the gap between her and Gray. ‘It goes apprentice, journeyman, master-’
‘It’s OK,’ Gray said under his breath. ‘I know the levels.’
Getting hauled out of prison in the middle of the night and brought to the mage guild was sketchy enough on its own without continually ticking off the royal guards watching over the room.
The girl had introduced herself as Zana, had clever black eyes behind round glasses and glossy black hair, had ears and a mouth too large for her face, and wore mage robes of scarlet, cream, and gold.
Gray bowed his head, his thoughts warring within him over the anxiety blooming in his chest from guessing why the heck he was there in the mage guild, and over Harriette and Barin, and how the damn he’d get them far away from Codder.
If he could just get them a warning, then maybe it would be enough. Perhaps he could write to them.
But, address the letter to where?
‘You have a button missing from your sleeve,’ Zana whispered.
Gray quickly folded his sleeve to hide the missing button.
Honestly, a missing button was the least of his concerns, and considering how messy and out-of-place Gray looked in this room full of elaborately dressed and styled mages - considering his dragon scale vest declaring him a walking hazard - a missing button was nothing.
‘So,’ said Zana, ‘they scoured the guild for any apprentice staying here over the summer, and any living in Dierne and surrounds.’
Gray made another non-committal sound.
Zana wasn’t the only one talking, but she certainly was the most blatant. If Gray listened hard he could hear half a dozen whispers from the mages around him, running through theories about why they were there.
‘They came to my room, woke me up, and escorted me here,’ she said. ‘Wild, eh? Do you know why we’re here?’
‘You idiot,’ hissed the surly girl, who’d taken to loitering over her and Gray to prod Zana into silence whenever she continued talking, ‘that’s the Griffin boy.’
‘Griffin?’
‘Not that Griffin.’ The surly girl lowered her voice. ’Sirentown? Krydon firebreath?’
‘Oh, yeah,’ Zana said, pretending to doubletake, before hitting both Gray and the surly girl with a grin. ‘The summer festival drama. Thought you seemed familiar. Don’t you have Wilde’s enemy mark on your arm?’
Gray slid low in his chair, clapping a hand over his face.
‘He’s staying in the prison,’ said the surly girl, missing the playful sarcasm in Zana’s demeanour or perhaps not caring. ‘He knows nothing. And he’s dangerous. Get away from him.’
‘He came in with the king,’ said Zana, an edge entering her voice for the first time.
‘We all saw him come in with the king,’ said the surly girl.
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’So, he might know-‘
‘Master Drake,’ called the surly girl, ‘Zana and the Griffin boy keep talking. Aren’t we supposed to be waiting in silence?’
Gray turned in his chair, raising his eyebrows at the surly girl. Her dark hair was immaculately twisted, and adorned with blue jewels. There was some kind of silk sash layered over her complicated mage robes, covered in runes.
Ellery strode over, his robes billowing. It was hard to make out his eyes behind the gold mask with only the lantern light overheard to see by, but his shoulders were stiff.
‘There’s more than twenty high-ranking mage masters in the next room,’ said Ellery, leaning close and his voice low and annoyed, ‘along with the Grand High Master Mage, several military officers, and the king. They have asked you to wait in silence.’
‘Yes,’ Zana muttered.
‘Yes, sir,’ said Gray, shifting uncomfortably.
‘Gray, move,’ said Ellery.
Feeling slightly nettled that he was getting reprimanded when he’d not been the one talking, Gray got up and wove his way through the crush of curious apprentices to stand by the dark window.
The room was reflected in the glass, and Gray saw when one of the apprentices peeled himself away from the others. He strolled over, slow and deliberate, until he settled besides Gray.
The apprentice leaned against the wall, his posture a study in cultivated indifference - shoulders slouched, ankles crossed just so, and a casual flick of his wrist to push aside his ornate robes that displayed a disregard for their value. They shimmered faintly, embroidered with threads of gold and blue.
His elbow-length ashy hair was twisted back. In one hand he spun a wand - a sleek, slender thing of bone-white wood.
‘Fi lets the power get to her head,’ the boy murmured, his voice a bored drawl.
Gray followed the boy’s line of sight in the dark window pane. The surly girl - Fi - had claimed Gray’s vacated seat. She sat with a prim, straight back.
‘Fi was made champion of the apprentices,’ said the boy, twirling his wand. ’Now she thinks she’s some kind of gift from the gods, and we mere mortals are all her subjects.’
Gray gave a small nod, not really understanding what the boy was talking about, being made champion of the apprentices. He eyed Ellery’s reflection in the dark glass, unwilling to reply and risk being told off again.
‘There’s a bunch of the court in there,’ said the boy, lowering his voice and sounding even more bored. And completely unaware that Gray’s insides were slipping down to his toes. ‘Everyone thinks we’re getting presented. Pffft.’
Presented?
The court.
‘What happens when you’re presented?’ said Gray quietly.
The boy shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Highly guarded secret, of course. But we’re not getting presented.’
Gray let out a small breath, his shoulders relaxing.
‘Mother told me it’s some kind of test.’ The boy cast a bored glance over the ground assembled in the room. ‘I’d say it’s a recruitment of the best apprentices for one of the bigwigs, but Zana is here, and her magic stat is barely over 50, with the help of her team of ten tutors, so maybe not.’ The boy scratched his nose.
Gray barely registered how much the boy reminded him of the sneering rich kids that would pass through the tavern in Krydon. He stared blindly at the window.
He couldn’t pass any kind of test.
He knew nothing about magic, he couldn’t even use his magic, he couldn’t access it properly.
The boy held out his hand for Gray to shake. ‘Archer Fernby,’ he said.
Gray hesitated and then glanced down to distractedly shake Archer’s hand.
‘Gray -’
‘Griffin, I know,’ said Archer. He eyed Gray keenly. ‘Wynn Griffin’s son, right?’
‘Uh,’ said Gray.
‘You can tell me,’ said Archer. ‘That’s what everyone’s saying.’
Gray frowned, clocking a group of Archer’s friends, all watching from a distance.
The silence stretched between them for long enough for it to become awkward.
'You can't say, all right, I get it.' Archer shifted, resettling his shoulders against the wall. ‘You know, we need as many decent mages as we can get right now, you don’t have to be in the prison, my mother can -‘
Whatever Archer’s mother could do was lost as the doors opened.
A severe-looking woman in black robes stepped out.
‘Archer Fernby,’ she called.
Archer shot Gray a cool glance and then stepped forward. ‘Here.’
‘Come with me, please.’
Gray sat down in the closest chair and watched Archer disappear through the doors.
-
Gray didn’t know what kind of order they were calling the mages, nor did he know exactly what was going on in the next room.
The apprentices were getting called in, one by one.
And Gray was now one of the last people left. He gripped onto his chair as a flash of light bloomed through the crack of the door.
None of the mages who’d gone into the room had come out again - or if they had, they’d gone out a different exit - because no one passed back through the office.
Then, it was just Gray and Zana.
She pulled a face at him, sitting cross-legged on her chair, completely unconcerned that Ellery was watching her with an annoyed tilt to his head, and that there was a series of muffled shouts from behind the door.
The severe-looking woman came out of the doors and called for Zana.
Then it was just Gray.
Gray paced. He checked the window. It was warded. He paced more, ignoring Ellery and the other royal guards tracking his every move from behind their gold masks, and then,
‘Gray?’ The severe-looking woman held the door open for him. ‘They’re ready for you.’