Talking Pillows

Martel's morning shifts at the apothecary made him feel more and more uncomfortable. He had no interest in talking to Nora, and it seemed she had understood this, abandoning her attempts to make conversation. Now they only spoke as needed to coordinate their work while he was there. Once he had finished his chores and classes, he strolled through the entrance hall, noticing the empty desk where Jasper usually sat. Nodding to Henry, Martel left the castle and crossed the open square outside the gates, reaching a small tavern.

He quickly looked over the guests and saw Marcus, clad as he had been the other day when finding the thief for Lady Pearl. Martel quickly walked over. "Nothing?" he asked disappointed.

"Obviously," Marcus snorted, "or I wouldn't still be here. Come back at last bell, as we agreed."

"You're sure he hasn't gotten past you?"

"I've been here the whole morning, and I made sure to get a good look at him yesterday. Even if I hadn't, there's not been any boys in green robes leaving the castle." The warrior in disguise gave Martel an overbearing look. "How about you leave me to do my work before you attract any more attention?"

"Fine." The novice turned to walk away, though Marcus quickly reached out to grab him by the sleeve.

"Wait! Got any coin? This damnable tavernkeeper won't sell on credit, and I only got a few pennies left."

"If I had any money, I wouldn't be doing work with you Night Knives," Martel retorted.

"Get lost."

***

As Martel agonised over his plan with the Night Knives, hopeful it would yield something useful while also frustrated about his own passive role, others met without his knowledge to discuss his future. Sharing a cup of wine, the overseer and the Master of Elements held a meeting in her chambers.

"Is the boy ready?" she asked.

Alastair nodded. "He is certainly skilled enough. Tomorrow, I'll discuss spells with him for the examination."

"Good. We shall be five members of the faculty present. With that many witnesses, his promotion to acolyte will be guaranteed."

He counted them off on his fingers. "You, me, Fenrick, Vana, and Reynard. And if our Master of War objects?"

Juliana gave a shrug. "Four teachers against one. A lone dissenting voice will not have much credence. And the decision rests with me."

"I'll make sure the boy knows he might expect Reynard to give him trouble. As long as he impresses Vana, that should suffice."

"Agreed."

***

With no classes in the afternoon, Martel found the wait until last bell agonizingly slow. He passed through the entrance hall several times, just to make sure Jasper's desk remained empty, until Henry started to give him odd looks. Frustrated about doing nothing, Martel got an idea. While Marcus followed Jasper outside the castle, maybe Martel could accomplish something inside the castle. Namely, searching the acolyte's room. Someone might discover him of course, but there was no rule against entering someone else's chamber.

After asking around, Martel located Jasper's chamber, one floor above his own. He waited until the corridor was empty and turned his attention towards the keyhole. Made from metal, it responded best to earth magic, which Martel had limited skill with. But even so, manipulating a small lump of metal like that to unlock itself should be within his capabilities.

Placing one hand against the keyhole, just to make it a little easy on himself, Martel extended his magic into the metal.

Nothing. It felt like trying to squeeze air with his fist.

Martel knew earth was not his strongest element, but this was ridiculous. He tried again. But as he extended his magic, trying to direct its flow into the metal, he felt nothing. The whole area was dead, like – like gold.

Of course. In a school full of mages, how did you prevent students from unlocking any door they pleased? You added some bits of gold to nullify their powers.

Defeated, Martel returned to his room, waiting impatiently for the last bell to ring.

***

When his Khivan clock showed eight, Martel finally left his room. He returned to the tavern across the square, quickly finding Marcus. "Well?"

"Your boy left the castle this afternoon. I trailed him for a couple of hours. You won't guess where he went."

"No I won't, where did he go?"

Marcus’s superior smile faded. "Not much fun with you. The boy went to the Pearl."

"What, the establishment or the woman?"

The warrior gave a snort of laughter. "Listen to you, 'the establishment'. Yeah, he went to the brothel. I can't imagine he'd have business with Lady Pearl."

Martel exhaled. "That's all well and good, but I doubt it's against the rules to visit such – places."

"Hold your horses, mate. I asked around. Your boy goes there every Malday, visiting the same girl by the name of Dawn. You want to know his secrets, you find out the pillow talk."

"The pillows at the Pearl can talk?" What manner of insane magic was that? Martel started to think about the pillow in his room, talking about him, and it made him feel mortified.

Marcus sighed. "When a man's head is resting on a pillow in the company of a girl, and he talks, that's called – never mind. The girl is the one to talk to."

"You didn't ask her anything yourself?"

"You're the one who knows the right questions, what could be important. Besides, you can't just walk in and interrogate one of Lady Pearl's wenches. Go tomorrow and see Flora. I'll let her know about your need, and she'll set up the meeting."

"Alright, I will. Thanks for your help," Martel told him. He felt better at the thought of this; now it was his turn to learn Jasper's secrets.

The warrior gave a shrug. "What else are comrades of loose association for? Wait, you got any coin? I'm hungry."

"No more than when you asked me this morning."

"Sod off."