Chapter 10
Roksana
My body told me it was morning. Not that you’d know it, with the room as dark as my current mood. The fireplace was still warm, its glowing embers giving the room a soft, reddish hue, but the warmth and dim glow didn’t help improve my mood.
I’d returned home three days ago, a week after Reynard convinced me to leave his side.
He’d been relentless with his stupidly reasonable arguments, and after Tova begrudgingly agreed to transport the strange box, I had no reason to stay.
At least not one good enough to convince him.
Apparently, wanting to be with him didn’t count.
I was sent ahead with a unit of soldiers to, as Rey said, clear the roads. Tova was supposed to travel a half-day behind me to maintain a safe distance from the box. He should have arrived already, so all I could do was sit on my hands and worry myself sick.
A sharp knock broke through my morose thoughts, and I rushed to the door. At this hour, it could be only Tova or bad news, and I didn’t want to miss either.
‘My lady, Master Ciesko wishes to see you.’ The messenger stepped back respectfully, bowing his head.
I had to grasp the door frame, dread creeping down my spine. Not a word about my friend. I prayed to the gods above and below that he wasn’t calling me to identify a body in the morgue.
‘What reason did Ciesko give for needing to see me?’ I asked, reaching for my cloak.
‘The Master Healer,’ the messenger said, correcting me, ‘didn’t offer a reason, nor is he required to give one to an apprentice mage.’
‘Idiot,’ I muttered. My door slammed shut as I bolted towards the waiting carriage, gesturing to the mage. ‘Don’t stand around like a gaping carp. Come on.’
The mage stayed silent during the ride, but I preferred that to talking with a fool.
The university courtyard looked beautiful in the height of winter.
White powdery snow built up in small drifts or wrapped the statues in ice-cold shawls.
The serene landscape was jarring to the dark thoughts running through my mind.
I stared at the cherry tree still in full bloom despite the season, then bit my lip until the metallic taste of blood centred me.
Were the wards holding the artefact as strong as those containing the swirling vortex of magic that sustained the tree’s current state?
‘My lady, are you coming?’ I looked to the side where a guard was drumming his fingers on his halberd.
‘Where to?’ I asked, holding my breath while waiting for his answer.
‘My lady, I was explicitly asked to bring you to the healer’s wing. The dwarven guest will join you there after the university guards finish interrogating him.’
‘Interrogating?’ My eyes narrowed. Relief that Tova had arrived fought with my anger, and anger was winning.
The guard instinctively took a step back. ‘They’re just asking about the events on your journey, and the unusual fire he created. The royal mage is there too. He’ll be with you soon, my lady,’ he said quickly before turning away. ‘I’ll check how long they’ll be.’
I didn’t like it, but for now, I didn’t have a choice.
It was strange how entering Ciesko’s workshop now felt like home. The smell of herbs and healing poultices, mixed into a pleasant but pungent aroma, had taken some getting used to, but now felt perfectly natural.
‘Master Ciesko?’ I called into the empty room, surprised he was missing if he’d wanted to see me so urgently.
The man in question emerged from a side room carrying a massive jar in his arms and a deep frown on his face. I couldn’t describe the feeling when it disappeared after seeing me.
‘I was wondering where you were. The Army healers need medicines for frostbite injuries. Apparently, they encountered a severe case of aether flux and ran out of tinctures and tonics. I almost have everything ready except the potions to enhance blood flow.’
I looked at the bottle he held in his arms. ‘And that is…?’
‘The last of our supply of sun daisy extract,’ he said, straining under the weight, before dumping the jar in front of me.
I looked between him and the sloshing liquid. ‘I need to talk to Tova. I’m sorry, but I have other tasks more critical than mixing potions,’ I said, wincing when he frowned.
‘Your other matters aren’t here, and the soldiers need help,’ Ciesko said, disappointment in his voice.
When I lowered my head, he sighed and placed a hand on my forearm.
‘Look, this artefact your dwarf acquired, our artificers are placing nullifying spells around it. You can’t help them, so please focus on something only you can do.
I want you to use vivamancy to enhance the potency of this extract. ’
This was the first proper task he’d given me requiring my unique power. Yes, I’d used it in training, but never on anything designed for a patient. My palms grew sweaty, so I hid them behind my back, suddenly less sure of my abilities than I had been a moment ago.
‘Roksana, you know your craft, your limits. Trust yourself as much as I trust you,’ he said, and I had an unsettling feeling he was setting me up for another test.
Still, he was right. It was far better than waiting around, so I shook my head, giving him the answer. ‘Fine, I’ll try.’
An hour later, I was nursing the mother of all headaches. The pressure pushing my eyes out of my skull was unbearable. However, I’d done it. I’d increased the potency of the extract to such a high level that a single teaspoon was enough to make ten bottles of the potion.
I stared at the bottle, where tiny flecks of gold swirled in chaotic patterns, and wanted to dance to its unsung melody. Instead, I lifted it to the light, grinning like an idiot.
‘If I can do this, what else can I do?’ I whispered to the bottle.
‘Who knows, who knows,’ Ciesko mused, pulling the bottle from my hands.
He hummed with pride, preening in front of the healers who picked it up, as if he’d single-handedly modified the plant extract. I just sat there, quietly wishing he’d get a boil on the end of his. Still, if not for his teaching, I would never have learned a single spell.
I drew the pattern for fire as Ciesko discussed dosages with the apothecary.
A small flame blossomed on my fingertips and danced between them, carried by the strands of aether until its shape reminded me of a warrior on his horse, features hidden behind a wolf’s lupine grin.
They galloped over my palm, the mischievous smirk feeding a bittersweet yearning that made me sigh.
I missed Rey. Our last encounter still made my body ache. His tenderness, his whispered plea, burned with passionate intensity. I knew his flaws, his ruthless, obsessive focus when he made decisions… or the temper that overtook him when his iron will slipped, and I wanted it all.
‘I hope this potion helps your men,’ I whispered when the tiny horse reared, hooves sending sparks across my palm. ‘You need to return to me. I have so much to tell you.’
Rey never hid who he was from me, his wild magic, his responsibilities, his emotions… but I kept so many secrets. I locked them away, and I shouldn’t have. Not from him.
‘Sana, would you stop playing with fire? The artefact is being brought up. Prepare a space while I send for Tova and Riordan,’ came the exasperated order from behind me.
‘Yes, Master Ciesko,’ I said, snapping my fist shut.
It snuffed out the flame, and I sighed, looking around for a suitable bench.
The box should already be warded, wrapped with a nullifying spell like a cobweb, but drawing the containment matrix wouldn’t hurt.
The surgeon’s table was the biggest, so that was where I focused my efforts.
A moment later, I was cursing, wiping another mistake from the wood where I’d smudged another line. Creating sigils was precise work. They required focus, not a tired mind wandering in every direction.
‘Roksana? Oh, that’s what you’re doing. Fine, but please be careful, and remember what I told you,’ Ciesko said, standing behind me.
‘Of course.’ I nodded, forcing a deferential smile while internally seething.
I’d thought we were past this. Even knowing Ciesko didn’t trust me to create high arcana spells alone, he could’ve trusted me enough to not breathe down my neck while I worked.
I drew the first circle of runes, tensing at his exasperated sigh.
‘Be careful with that sigil, Sana. Runes must be precise; otherwise, you disturb the flow of the aether, and that will affect the wards.’
‘I am being careful,’ I said, shaking my hand to remove the stiffness in my fingers.
He didn’t say a word, placing his hand on mine, guiding me until the lines confidently flowed over the wood.
My sigh wasn’t frustration, definitely not.
I was new at this, so Ciesko was simply using this as a teaching moment.
However, with the healer’s pointers, I corrected the double spiral, then added the Chur Rune[1] to the centre of my design.
The boundaries of the spell glowed as my aether flowed through the rune, and a shimmering veil formed on its borders.
‘Good, good. Now hold it steady and strengthen the spell. You’ll sense when the sigil is full.
Then tie it off,’ he muttered, directing me until the stream of aether stabilised.
‘See this gentle fluctuation? Smooth it down as much as you can, but without overdoing it. That would strengthen the boundary.’
I worked for half an hour, making slight tweaks to the energy strands with my fingers until the veil fully formed and reached its maximum strength.
It was exhilarating to feel the aether flowing from my fingertips, tingling gently as I saturated the spell.
Ciesko smiled, nodding each time I added something that strengthened its core.
Emerald light dominated the neutral white of the sigil.