Chapter 90
TEACAKES, MORE LIMP NOODLES, AND ANOTHER LOOPHOLE
By the time the tower residents heard footsteps in the stairwell, it was too late to flee the kitchen and hide elsewhere, specifically somewhere with doors.
So, in the way of children about to be discovered in the pantry stuffing their mouths with sweets before supper, they froze, hoping through stillness to be overlooked.
Master Excelsior strode right into the kitchen, smiling. “Sir Roger, Miss Pocket, Mr. Boekhouwer, Prince Henri des Marais, Fink, such a pleasure to make your acquaintances after all this time of spying on you through the mirror.”
“What?” Pocket gasped.
Sir Roger gave her a mildly patronizing look over the rim of the Lip Cutter, whose chip he had angled far away from him.
“Surely you’re not still surprised about all the strangeness that surrounds this place, are you, girl?
” He snorted, took his sip, and rose to offer his seat—the salt barrel—to the sorcerer. “Oh the naivety of youth.”
Master Excelsior smiled at the proffered barrel but didn’t accept it.
Instead, he presented himself in front of Millie, who had risen out of Bradley’s chair.
Smiling softly, he clasped his hands against his stomach and bowed low to Millie in the way of court sorcerers before their regents.
“Princess Mildred Angelique Tisane, it is an honor.”
A pirate wouldn’t curtsy, but Mutineer Millie wasn’t any pirate. She had manners, and she knew full well she was in another man’s home without his permission. While she didn’t lower her eyes as propriety demanded, she did bob a polite curtsy.
Master Excelsior grinned. “Truly a pirate the likes the world has never seen, aren’t you?
So sorry you lost your cutlass to that grouper in defense of my apprentice’s companion.
Wretched creatures, but they do serve a purpose.
Please help yourself to a replacement in the armory.
And to whatever else you might need now that the Discount Damsel Protocol is no longer in effect. ”
Having grown up with Olabeus, Millie had learned from a very young age never to question how a sorcerer knew the things he did.
It was easier to accept them and get on with your life instead of checking the walls for spying holes or burning sage in the hallways to dispel any eavesdropping imps (she knew, she’d wasted an entire day doing exactly that when she was seven). And yet . . .
“It was the hermit crabs, wasn’t it?” she hedged. “They were your spies, weren’t they?” Only a fool would dismiss a crab with a glowing shell.
“Olabeus always said you were as smart as a whip.”
It was probably a good thing then that she’d made a habit of shooing them out of her bedroom at night. Her thoughts returned to last night in particular, but she refused to blush.
“Thank you,” she said. “And thank you for your hospitality and generosity, Master Excelsior.”
He waggled his white eyebrows at her. “Come now, is that what you really want to say to me?”
She lifted an eyebrow in a very controlled, very regal manner. She did not like being tested, but sorcerers were, by their very nature, a rather pushy bunch. “Surely you know I can misbehave spectacularly when properly encouraged. And you’re being very encouraging.”
His smile turned sly, and Master Excelsior lifted her hand to brush a kiss to her knuckles. “And I suppose being called a dickhead just doesn’t have the same effect after one has already been branded an asshole. Twice.”
“Precisely. One wouldn’t want one’s profanity to become trite.”
“What a zesty little gem you are, Your Highness.” Still holding her hand, he grew serious. “May I embrace you as a daughter? You have saved my boys. Without you, both of them would have been lost. ”
Millie wet her lips, suddenly nervous. This wasn’t an eccentric sorcerer with questionable teaching methods standing in front of her any longer. It was Bradley’s and Dirk’s father. She nodded, and he enveloped her tenderly.
“Thank you, little pirate.”
He guided her out of the corner by the kitchen table like he was leading her onto a dance floor and gave her an actual twirl into Bradley’s space.
The apprentice wrapped an arm around her waist and pressed a kiss against her hair, but it wasn’t a protective gesture. It was pure, unguarded affection.
“As much as I would love to indulge in a spot of tea and natter on with you lovely folks,” Master Excelsior said, “I am needed elsewhere. So are Bradley and Dirk, for that matter. But I can spare a moment for some teacakes and coffee, if there’s any left?”
No one was foolish enough to deny a sorcerer in his own home, even when it came down to the coveted teacakes. Duncan fetched the coffee pot and Pocket slid the plate with the two precious remaining teacakes towards him.
Since there were no more cups or bowls to be had, the sorcerer dunked the confection directly into the pot and plopped it into his mouth. “Caelus’s Stars. Miss Millie, you must share the recipe with the College cooks. I might actually gain weight!”
He eagerly scarfed down the other teacake, drank the rest of the coffee straight from the pot, and dabbed his mouth with the hem of one sleeve. “Now we really must be off. Bradley, Dirk, come along.”
It was instinct for Bradley to obey his master’s command, and he even shifted his weight forward to take a step, and stopped. He looked down at his fingers interlaced with the princess’s. “Wait—”
Master Excelsior’s expression tightened. “I was wondering when we would come to this.”
“Uh, let’s give them some privacy,” Sir Roger told the others.
Pocket slung Fink onto her shoulder, Duncan plucked up Prince Henri’s birdcage, and the two hurried after the hedge knight.
“Stop,” the frog cried. “He might be able to lift my spell!”
“So you can try to abscond with my bestie?” Pocket snorted. “I don’t think so.”
When they were alone, Master Excelsior waggled a finger between his apprentice and the pirate princess. “Just what did you think was going to happen at the end of ninety days, hmm?”
“That’s impossible to know,” Millie answered. “But why waste the time you have by not throwing your whole heart into every opportunity?”
“Admirable, but he’s to be a sorcerer and you’re to be a pirate. The two don’t mix.”
Mutineer Millie gave a stubborn lift of her chin. “Who says so? The same folks who claim a princess can’t become a pirate? Bet they’re soiling their knickers right now.”
The corner of the sorcerer’s mouth quirked, but he said nothing.
“I’m only leaving to take my test, Millie.” Bradley pressed a firm kiss to her forehead. “I’ll come back for you.”
“No, you won’t, boy. You might pass your Master’s exam, but you are still bound by the rules of the College. Master sorcerers serve at the Board’s leisure.”
Bradley’s blood turned to sludge in his veins. It was true, but he couldn’t accept it. He wanted both. Needed both. He couldn’t earn his staff at the expense of Millie’s heart. His heart. Not when he had fought so hard for each of them.
His thoughts churned, searching for a way out. You need to broaden your mind, dear boy. It needs to be as limber as a wet noodle.
“Well I’m not going anywhere without my princess.” Dirk landed on Millie’s shoulder. “She is my responsibility until six twenty-two this evening.”
“We both know that DDP was deemed invalid by the Ministry of Folklore itself,” Master Excelsior said.
“Not to me.”
“No other luck dragon has a princess.”
“Sucks to be them.”
“Dirk,” Millie began softly.
“Stay out of this, Millie.” His lips peeled back from his fangs, and he growled softly at Master Excelsior.
“Your littermates will make fun of you,” the sorcerer said gravely.
His tail tightened around her. “I don’t care.”
“What happens at six twenty-two, when she no longer is your responsibility? She can’t stay at the College—she’s not a sorcerer nor an employee.”
“I’ll figure it out, meat sack! I’m a dragon, I do what I want.”
Master Excelsior’s gaze narrowed sharply.
“Let me take the Grand Master exam,” Bradley blurted. “A grand master gets to choose his appointment, doesn’t he? If I pass, I’m choosing her.”
“Bradley,” she whispered, panicked. “No.” There were risks, and there was downright recklessness. She would not have him jeopardize everything for her.
Bradley never tore his gaze away from his master’s face.
“Don’t you need a staff to take that exam?” Dirk protested.
“No, I do not. Do I, Master?”
A sorcerer apprentice earned their crystal staff by proving their command over High Aetherial.
It was taught that the crystal acted as a substitute for the magical language—another conduit through which to command the magic inside him—and if a master sorcerer was strong enough in their own gift, they could command their magic through gesture.
But Bradley knew better now. The crystal was only an amplifier to the power within him, and with his gift, he needed no external assistance.
Master Excelsior clapped. “There’s my noodle-brained apprentice. I was hoping you’d figure it out in time. And you’re quite right, Dirk. Who is a man to tell a dragon what he can and cannot do, even a wee luck dragon without his barbels? Bravo.”
Bradley felt the tension drain out of his shoulders like water from a wrung sponge. “I’m getting sick of these tests, Master.”
“Too bad for you. Life’s full of ’em. Now we really must be off. Miss Millie? You, too, dear.”