Bloodkin (Jaseth of Jaelshead) Page 17

  At my bench I placed the candle firmly in its holder and studied it for a bit. It was a fresh candle, beeswax, and the wick was made of finely braided cotton. The break had caused my concentration to drift as I settled, so I took a moment. With my eyes open I felt into the wick, sensing the tiny particles. I gave them a nudge with my Hầұeӣ and I felt them quicken briefly, then slow. Hmm, I needed more then. Remembering Myr Billy’s warning I reached inside and gently drew out more, the microscopic view I had of the cotton made it feel huge in my mind. I wiggled the atoms and they started to speed up, but still there was no Πiầ. I pushed more Hầұeӣ into it until finally the candle burst into life, then spluttered and went out.

  “Dammit, what happened?”

  “Ah, okay Jas, think of Fiona and her hairs. With the wood-chips you could set them alight and then they would burn by themselves, right?”

  I nodded at Charlie.

  “Well, with these candles you’ve got to hold it long enough for the flame to catch. Try again, but keep going until it can burn on its own.”

  I tried again, stirring about in the wick until I saw it catch, and then I pressed harder, forcing the combustion to continue until—

  “Oh bollocks. I think I need a new candle.”

  The wick had caught and burned down its entire length, turning the candle into a messy lump of wax.

  “Well would you look at that!” Myr Billy came up beside us, holding out a fresh candle. “You’ve got a lot of power, Jaseth, but you need to be more specific with your channelling. Feed the Πiầ a little at a time, rein yourself in. There’s a good boy, keep trying!”

  On my third attempt the candle caught and flared for a few seconds before going out. The next attempt lasted only slightly longer. I was trying very hard not to feel frustrated – the woodchips had been easy compared to this. I felt a headache beginning to growl between my ears, but I pushed it away. I finally lit the candle and I let it burn for a minute before Charlie blew it out.

  “Very good! Now, try it again.”

  For the next hour I practised on the candle, but it was a bit hit and miss. Often I would get it to catch properly, so that one of us would have to blow it out, but it seemed that more and more frequently it would only spark and then die.

  Finally Myr Billy clapped his hands to get our attention. “Very good work for a first day, my dears. Now, tomorrow we start work on what you saw your Mentors doing earlier – creating an oxygen-proof barrier, a form of Ћieл, to put fires out – most important given your natural propensity for Πiầ, don’t you think? So tonight I want you to practise lighting candles, under the supervision of your Mentor of course. Myn Eve will have a stash of them at the Hall. So do your practice and your readings and we will look forward to another successful day tomorrow!” Myr Billy didn’t wait for any replies before sweeping out of the classroom, his robes almost billowing behind him. It appeared that we were dismissed for the day.

  A couple of Journeymen, not as young as Steven or Alan by the looks and more confident air of them, came into the classroom and began to clear away our cups and clean our workbenches.

  I gathered up my pen and journal and followed everyone else out of the classroom. The late afternoon sun was golden and still warm as we crossed the quad.

  “Holy Lilbecz, that was some day!” Telgeth caught up to me, grinning widely. “I think we should go to the pub to celebrate!”

  I massaged my temples. “Oh gawd, I have the worst headache. Ugh.”

  Telgeth drew his brows together and thought for a second.

  “Hmm, actually, so do I. Damn you, I hadn’t realised til then! Hey, I’ll get Thomas to grab us some White and we’ll go anyway. Just for a couple of drinks, until teatime anyway.” He skipped away to Lolitha to tell her his plans.

  I shook my head, feeling altogether too weary for any kind of socialising, although the thought of smoking some White cheered me up a little. Charlie hugged me round the shoulders, noticing my discomfort.

  “You did bloody well today, Jas. I’m proud of you!”

  “Thanks. I feel like balls though. And I managed to blow up a candle.

  He clapped me on the back. “That’s a good sign!” He grinned at my dubious face. “Honestly! It’s easier to rein in too much power than struggle because you don’t have enough. Come on, I think you deserve to celebrate a little, you really did great today.”

  I wasn’t really convinced, but I figured I could wriggle out of it when we stopped at the Hall.

  No such luck, however. I had only just put my pen and book down in my room when Lolitha stuck her head round the door.

  “Are you coming to the Thistle, Jas? Telgeth said you were.”

  I groaned inwardly. If she had a headache like the rest of us it didn’t show on her face. Her eyes were sparkling and she seemed more animated than I had ever seen her before.

  “I would, but I have this headache and—”

  “Yeah, so do I. Jimmy said that’s normal when you start using Hầұeӣ, and some White and a couple of glasses of wine will sort us right out!”

  There was no resistance I could offer in the face of her enthusiasm and I sighed. “So who else is coming then?”

  “Oh, well, Sallagh and Mantilly won’t. They’ve started their homework already.” She wrinkled her nose and giggled. “And James isn’t letting Sammoch go, on account of his poor performance on Saturday night,” she grinned wickedly. “But the other boys are keen. Come on, it’ll be fun!”

  “I don’t know…” But Lolitha strode into the room and grabbed the cuff of my robe, dragging me out into the hall.

  “Charlie?” She called over her shoulder. “We’re going to the pub.”

  “Oh?” He poked his head round the door to his bedroom. “Cool, I’ll be right there.”

  Down in the reception we waited for Charlie to join us.

  “Your first day and you’re already off to drown your sorrows. My, my.” Myn Eve shook a finger at us in mock sadness. Jimmy waltzed over and planted a kiss on her cheek.

  “We’re celebrating! The Bloodkin used Hầұeӣ today!”

  She laughed and patted her hair. “Of course my dears. Be back by eight. Dinner will be ready then.”

  Jimmy saluted her as Charlie came down the stairs. “Aye aye sir!” He gave a cheeky grin. “Is everyone here? Good, let’s go!”

  We walked through the Quarter as shops were closing for the day. The twisting streets were full of gentle activity as shutters were closed and signs brought in. There were still people wandering about, enjoying the last of the afternoon’s warmth. The doorman at the Shivering Thistle was leaning sleepily against the doorframe, but he smiled pleasantly enough at us as we went in. I suppose it must have been obvious we were the Academy’s new intake of Bloodkin, five young Humans accompanied by their Mentors.

  Inside, the sun angled through the amber glass windows, catching motes of dust in streams. A lone harpist sat on the stage plucking gently at an ornate instrument as tall as she was. The pretty, gentle music filtered through the tavern, mostly empty at this hour, though there were clumps of Journeymen in the most comfortable booths.

  O’Malley was perched behind the bar, one eye on a newspaper he had spread out in front of him. He stood as he saw us enter.

  “Back again so soon? Must’ve been a hard day at the Academy, hmm?”

  “We’re celebrating, Myr O’Malley! The Bloodkin used their Hầұeӣ for the first time,” Jimmy grinned at the landlord.

  “And you’ve all got wicked headaches, no doubt. Don’t worry, I see this every two years.” He smiled as his eyes flicked over us. “Ahh, you lucky children, Hầұeӣ is a wonderful gift you know. The afternoon is still lovely, why don’t you head up to the roof and I’ll send one of the Journeymen up with a celebratory bottle of something.”

  Everyone else headed for the stairs to the roof garden but I lingered for a second. I looked up above the bar to see if anyone was in Anna’s private lounge, but to my surprise the top of the b
ar extended straight up to the roof. Where was the balcony that we had looked over the other night? There must have been some sort of Hầұeӣ on the wood panelling to make it transparent from the other side, but opaque from this. Without thinking I gave the wood a nudge with my Hầұeӣ. It certainly felt different from the woodchips we had practised on in class, almost as if—

  “Ϛaioћ, your Bloodkin looks like he’s going to set my tavern on fire,” O’Malley warned and Charlie turned back and cuffed me lightly round the head, breaking my concentration.

  “Don’t go probing stuff until you know what you can do, Jas.”

  Oh shit. I shook my head.

  “I’m so sorry Myr O’Malley, I didn’t mean… I was just wondering about the—”

  “Yes, it’s been altered with Hầұeӣ. You weren’t really trying to set it on fire, were you?”

  “Of, of course not!” I stammered, horrified. “I was just… looking.”

  “Hmph. Well looking can get you into trouble,” muttered the little landlord, and he turned back to his paper.

  I hung my head, shamefaced, as Charlie glanced at the entrance to the staircase that led to the private lounge, but the guard shook his head.

  “Lya Myn is conducting business,” he told us tersely and moved to block the way. Charlie shrugged and we went to follow the others.

  “Did you tell Anna about what those guards said?” I asked him as we climbed the main stairs.

  “The ones by that bridge? No, I didn’t really have a chance. And I’m sure she knows about most things that are happening in the city.” He shook his head. “And I didn’t want to worry her.”

  How anything could worry the head of Lya Vassalion was beyond me, but for guards to be muttering about trouble in Lille all the way in the Jaelshead district it must be reasonably serious. Mustn’t it?

  Upstairs in the garden we joined the others who had made themselves comfortable in chairs and couches around a large circular table. The sun was leaning down to the west and the city was lit brilliantly in gold. Up on the hills, windows twinkled as they reflected the light, and we could see patches of the lake, still and mirroring the few fluffy clouds above, slowly turning brilliant pink and orange.

  A waitress arrived with two bottles of a Jaelshead Sauvignon Blanc and a platter of glasses that she placed on the table.

  “Hullo sweetheart, enjoying the afternoon?” Telgeth grinned at her.

  “Oh, yes, thank you sir. Is there anything else you need? Oh, ah, good then!” and she skittered away.

  “Smooth,” muttered Lolitha, but Telgeth looked puzzled.

  “She looked terrified! I’m not that hideous, am I? What did I say?”

  Lolitha sniggered, but Thomas smiled at him. “She was very young, couldn’t you tell? And Humans are scary, until you get to know them, of course.”

  “But she looked like she thought I was about to eat her or something!”

  Thomas shrugged. “We are taught to be careful. And you do have a propensity for violence.”

  “I do not!” exclaimed Telgeth hotly.

  “Well not you specifically, but we study your wars in the Enclaves. And Journeymen who return for their training like to terrorise the young folk with scary stories about Humans.”

  “Hmph.” Telgeth sat back in his chair and folded his arms, clearly not mollified. “So how do I convince her to sleep with me then?”

  Thomas gasped as Dunkerle and Donnick laughed. Lolitha rolled her eyes and ignored him.

  “So, they were mostly all Journeymen downstairs, weren’t they?” she asked Thomas. “They all looked very young.”

  “Yes, I’d say most of them are. Myr O’Malley loves all things Nea’thi, and he considers it his duty to make them feel at home out here. He even gets musicians to play our traditional songs, to remind them of home.”

  “Huh, well, that’s good of him. I suppose he’s Nea’thi-Blood then?”

  Thomas laughed. “Funnily enough, no. I think he desperately wishes he was though. I remember when he bought this place, he would have been, oh, not much older than you are now. Comes from an old Lille family with lots of money and grew up with Journeymen nannies I believe.”

  Dunkerle had taken off his spectacles to rub at the bridge of his nose, and as Thomas stopped for breath he broke in.

  “Gawd, will we always get headaches like this after class? Richard, may I please have some White? My head is killing me.”

  Richard produced his pipe, an ornate brass device with a cherry wood bowl that he packed from his white velvet bag. He sparked it and handed it to Dunkerle.

  “No no, you’ll get used to your Hầұeӣ in a few weeks.”

  “A few weeks?” Dunkerle squeaked.

  “It will get better, I promise. If you practise properly the headaches will lessen as you learn how to concentrate properly. And the meditation will help too.”

  Telgeth groaned.

  “No, really! Meditation is essential, you’ll see. They know what they’re doing at the Academy.”

  I gratefully accepted the pipe as it was passed around and almost immediately the throbbing in my head lessened, then drifted away altogether. Thomas repacked the pipe when it reached him, but Telgeth gestured at it.

  “Ooh, can I light it?”

  The Mentors all laughed and Thomas groaned in mock desperation, cradling his head in his arms on the table.

  “Ugh, there’s always one! Hell Telgeth, you will be the end of me. After you, I’m going back to the Enclave for some peace. You’re my last Bloodkin, I swear!”

  Everyone laughed and Telgeth threw up his hands. In the rich air of the late afternoon we were all flushed full of our day’s successes, both relieved and excited. There was no way then that we could have known what was going to happen to us in the next year. No way we could have known quite how prophetic Thomas’ words would prove to be.

  e made it back to the Hall just in time for dinner, and afterwards I grabbed a candle and a holder from Myn Eve and set it up on my workbench. The couple of hours we had spent at the Thistle had left me relaxed and buoyant, and with my headache gone I easily managed to light the candle ten times in a row to Charlie’s satisfaction. Each time he created one of his wee dousing shields to catch the smoke and he floated them over to the fireplace to release the smoke up the chimney.

  “Can’t you just Hầұeӣ it so there’s no smoke at all?” I asked him.

  “Oh well, I suppose I could, but that would be hard, and you’d probably end up with some sort of ashy residue. This is way easier.”

  “Oh.”

  I felt triumphant, but weariness crept up on me like a leprechaun and suddenly I was yawning widely and struggling to keep my eyes open.

  “Come on Jas, you’ve still got your readings to do.”

  With a groan I levered myself from my chair and after checking in my journal I went to the bookcase and pulled out the two volumes Myr Billy had prescribed.

  “Um, I think I’ll go read these in bed if you don’t mind, Charlie.”

  “Of course, boyo. I’ll wake you in the morning. Sleep well.” He gave a friendly wave as I escaped to my room, rotating my glowbe to get some light.

  I had only just started on the second volume, with the section on the Leaving when my eyes drooped and I laid the book down beside me. I’ll just rest my eyes a little bit, I thought, then keep reading. Just for a second. But sleep had me in its overwhelming clutches and soon I was dreaming of woodchips and magic and a dangerous, violet-eyed woman.

  Luckily for me, I already knew most of the basic history of the Leaving that Myr Billy lectured on the next day. Its importance had been drummed into me by my tutors at home, as it was the beginning of the modern age and our current political and legal systems. My day had begun when an irritatingly bouncy Charlie had strode into my room and whisked back the curtains.

  The Mentors had accompanied us to our second day at the Academy which started, as promised, with meditation. Myr Billy had written the words Hấњấρ �
�ѫầρ on the board and had arranged the little floor seats in a rough circle in the area between our workbenches and the couches at the back. These seats were little more than cushions on the ground with a padded back support. Myr Billy indicated that we take a blanket from the pile, and we sat in a circle with crossed legs and covered our knees with the blankets.

  “Good morning everyone. You will see I have written the words Hấњấρ Ờѫầρ on the board. Can you say that with me?”

  “Hyangyarh yomnyarh,” we chanted.

  “Good. This is what we call a mantra. Don’t worry about the translation, there is no exact meaning, except perhaps it is a declaration of a peaceful heart or peaceful intentions. We use this mantra to help still our minds as we meditate. Now, you know the process, yes? It is a time for us to think about nothing. Yes, that’s right, nothing. We let go of the things that distract us, worry us, and we sit in peaceful nothingness. Now, rest your arms on your knees like this, and curl your middle finger up so that it touches your thumb. Good. Close your eyes and think about your breathing. Silently, as you breathe in say Hấњấρ, then Ờѫầρ as you breathe out. Very simple. Now, thoughts will come to you and that is okay. Acknowledge them, then push them away. Think of nothing but your breathing at the mantra. Does everyone understand? Good. Let’s begin.”

  I curled my fingers together on my knees and closed my eyes. How hard could it be? I breathed in and thinking Hấњấρ in my head, then out, thinking Ờѫầρ. In and out. Hấњấρ Ờѫầρ. In and out.

  Unbidden, thoughts of Sallagh came into my head, pretty blonde Sallagh with her upturned nose and sweet mouth and— Oh bollocks. Push it away. I tried to concentrate on the mantra, to keep my mind clear, but images and snatches of conversation kept popping in. Acknowledge them and push them away, I thought. Hấњấρ Ờѫầρ.