Chapter Twenty-One #3
Valerian’s throat suddenly seemed dry and scratchy.
He drank the remaining whiskey in one gulp and set the glass back on the table with a harsh clank.
“Farming equipment is much more expensive though. Say a reaper breaks down. You can purchase a new one, which might take days or weeks to be delivered. In the meantime, work stops. Or your resident mage”—he refused to say ‘I’, too worried about speaking a dreadful future into existence—“could fix it in a few hours. Years of study now for quick results later.”
Maksim tapped his fingers idly on the desk. “Show me.”
The simple order unsettled Valerian. “Show you … how to fix farm equipment? I’d need to familiarize myself with it first.”
Without looking away from Valerian, Maksim picked up his glass, slowly stretched his arm out to the side, and slammed it down onto the office floor.
It shattered with a spectacular crash, pieces skidding across the floor to get lost among the furniture.
The last dregs of whiskey dribbled from the larger pieces. “Fix it.”
At least he didn’t throw it at my head. “I … I don’t have any supplies.”
“What do you need? I’ll have someone fetch them for you.”
Every potential ingredient flew out of Valerian’s mind as he stared blankly at the destruction. His mouth opened and closed without a list miraculously writing itself.
“My father is dying now. What use is ‘later’?”
Valerian took a deep breath and admitted, “I can’t help you now.”
“No, you can’t.” Maksim opened one of the drawers and pulled out a ledger.
He opened the ledger to the first page and read out loud, “Travel expenses from Krasna Manor to Lilliroad: seventy-six gold. Master Imus’ salary for the first year: fifteen thousand, six hundred, and nineteen gold.
Room and board for the first year: five hundred and sixty gold.
Material list for the first year: two hundred and thirty-three gold. ”
The list continued, every expense Lord Endre had paid for Valerian over thirteen years. If Valerian tried to speak, Maksim only raised his voice to drown out his protests.
“My father has invested over three hundred thousand gold in you over the past thirteen years, and you can’t even fix one broken, insignificant glass?
” Maksim closed the book softly and declared, “While my father is ill, I’m in charge of the estate.
I’ll be writing to Master Imus to officially terminate our contract and sponsorship of your studies. ”
Panic flooded Valerian’s lungs until he couldn’t breathe. “Wait—”
“In the meantime, you will work under my supervision until every single coin is paid back. With interest.” Maksim stood and rounded the desk, heading for the door, as if that was the end of the discussion.
“Doing what? You’re too old to still need someone to take your punishments for you. I’d be much more useful as—”
Maksim wrapped one of his meaty hands around Valerian’s throat. No matter how Valerian struggled, thrashing and clawing, Maksim didn’t flinch or release him. Slowly, he raised Valerian into the air until they were eye to eye.
Valerian kicked his feet desperately but didn’t connect with anything.
“Doing whatever the fuck I say. If I want to beat you to vent my frustration, I will. If I want to put you to work in the fields from dawn to dusk, until your hands bleed and you collapse from exhaustion, I will. And if you try to run from me, from the agreement you made, I’ll hunt you down and drag you back here.
Don’t think Master Imus or anyone else will shelter you.
No one wants a useless, half-cooked mage. ”
“Give … me … time,” Valerian choked out.
Maksim snorted and finally dropped Valerian.
He landed half on the chair, the arm digging into his back until it gave out and dumped him onto the floor.
“My father is out of time, and so are you.” Nonchalantly fixing his jacket, Maksim added, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to make arrangements for your extended stay.
” The lock on the office clicked closed as he left the room.
When Valerian said, ‘give me time’, he wasn’t promising to fix Lord Endre. He was promising to himself, and to Maksim, that he would be a powerful mage one day. That people would be in awe just hearing his name.
A promise he couldn’t keep while stuck in Krasna Manor.
Valerian grabbed the edge of the desk and pulled himself to his feet.
He walked unsteadily to the other side of the room and tested the window.
Locked. Pressing his hand to the glass, he closed his eyes and murmured slow, stilted words under his breath.
A crack spread from the center of his palm, out along the lines of all five fingers.
Glass was always easier to break than repair.
The panes splintered and fell away, clinking softly onto the floor, opening the window up to the world. The office was on the second floor, but Valerian didn’t care. A broken leg was nothing compared to what Maksim would do to him.
Valerian climbed over the windowsill and carefully lowered himself as close to the ground as he could.
His arms shook from the strain, and he made another silent promise to himself to be strong as well as skilled.
In the middle of his promise, he fell, hitting the ground with a heavy grunt.
He immediately rolled over, pushed himself to his feet, and started running.
And continued running for years.