The rain was not a disaster now: Harvest was complete, with the grapes from all the fields gathered, crushed, and vatted, the soil protected and prepared, and the slaves set to repairing the stone wall of the enclosure before the weather turned colder. Master had seemed pleased, if distracted, and missed the eve-meal two nights in a row because he was off doing something with samples from each of the vats Jerzy had been punching.
The night sky was clear now, but the stars were blocked out by a thick gray shadow perched in the middle of the window.
“Guardian?”
It could be none other, to come in through the window without an alarm being raised. The soft thump of something landing on the floor, allowing the stars to be seen again, confirmed his guess. The Guardian had accompanied him everywhere the first few days, but he had seen it less recently as time went on. He rolled out of bed, picking up the pillow and replacing it on the cot, then turned up the lamp on the desk, raising the flame until the room was illuminated.
The stone dragon waited on the floor, patient as only an inanimate thing could be.
“I’m to come with you?”
The Guardian could not speak, and its stone muzzle could not convey expressions, but Jerzy nonetheless got a distinct sense of “what else?” from the creature.
“All right. Let me get dressed.” It wasn’t cold yet outside, but for all that the House was grander than any sleep house, it still had corners where a chill could and did linger once the sun went down. Detta had given him three pairs of pants and two brand-new shirts, plus a sleeveless jerkin and a quilted jacket that actually fit him across the shoulders. He put on a pair of those pants, a shirt, and the jerkin, and picked up the hard-soled shoes he was supposed to wear when outside, just in case. Lastly he wrapped the leather belt once across his hips, fastening it with the dragon-head buckle that was a smaller version of the Master’s own.
Whatever Master Malech had in mind, he was ready.
Chapter 5
The House was silent, even the usual night-quiet sounds hushed. Guardian took him down the stairs by Master Malech’s study and through the stone hallway to a room he had not seen before, one with walls that seemed rounded at the corners in a way that confused the eye and made him slightly dizzy. Unlike the rest of the workrooms that held only tables and stools and cabinets of tools, there was actual furniture here, and a tapestry on one wall. What caught and held Jerzy’s attention, however, was the large mirror leaned up against the opposite wall. Jerzy knew, now, how much the simple looking glass he had used on his first day cost, how very rare it was, so the sight of this one took all of his attention, and it was only when a cough sounded before him that he realized that his master waited there, seated behind a wooden desk, a glass of vin ordinaire in his hand.
Jerzy didn’t know how he knew it was ordinaire rather than magica, but he knew it, the way he knew his hand was attached to his wrist.
“Good evening, Jerzy.”
“Good evening, Master Malech.” Even after these weeks studying with the Vineart, it was still strange to see the Master and know that he didn’t need to avert his eyes or fall to his knees or fear being cuffed by the overseer for insolence. Stranger still, to see his master relaxing, his quilted dressing robe over dark gray woven pants and an open-necked shirt of some deep blue color, his feet bare against the cool stone of the cellar floor.
Jerzy came all the way into the room and took what seemed to be the expected position on the wooden stool placed directly in front of the desk. The seat was worn smooth, and the height was just enough that he could tuck his legs underneath comfortably. He thought it might have been made for him, except the sheen of the wood suggested that it had been carved long before he had been born.
Guardian flew up into the ceiling, settling on a scarred wooden beam,
The night sky was clear now, but the stars were blocked out by a thick gray shadow perched in the middle of the window.
“Guardian?”
It could be none other, to come in through the window without an alarm being raised. The soft thump of something landing on the floor, allowing the stars to be seen again, confirmed his guess. The Guardian had accompanied him everywhere the first few days, but he had seen it less recently as time went on. He rolled out of bed, picking up the pillow and replacing it on the cot, then turned up the lamp on the desk, raising the flame until the room was illuminated.
The stone dragon waited on the floor, patient as only an inanimate thing could be.
“I’m to come with you?”
The Guardian could not speak, and its stone muzzle could not convey expressions, but Jerzy nonetheless got a distinct sense of “what else?” from the creature.
“All right. Let me get dressed.” It wasn’t cold yet outside, but for all that the House was grander than any sleep house, it still had corners where a chill could and did linger once the sun went down. Detta had given him three pairs of pants and two brand-new shirts, plus a sleeveless jerkin and a quilted jacket that actually fit him across the shoulders. He put on a pair of those pants, a shirt, and the jerkin, and picked up the hard-soled shoes he was supposed to wear when outside, just in case. Lastly he wrapped the leather belt once across his hips, fastening it with the dragon-head buckle that was a smaller version of the Master’s own.
Whatever Master Malech had in mind, he was ready.
Chapter 5
The House was silent, even the usual night-quiet sounds hushed. Guardian took him down the stairs by Master Malech’s study and through the stone hallway to a room he had not seen before, one with walls that seemed rounded at the corners in a way that confused the eye and made him slightly dizzy. Unlike the rest of the workrooms that held only tables and stools and cabinets of tools, there was actual furniture here, and a tapestry on one wall. What caught and held Jerzy’s attention, however, was the large mirror leaned up against the opposite wall. Jerzy knew, now, how much the simple looking glass he had used on his first day cost, how very rare it was, so the sight of this one took all of his attention, and it was only when a cough sounded before him that he realized that his master waited there, seated behind a wooden desk, a glass of vin ordinaire in his hand.
Jerzy didn’t know how he knew it was ordinaire rather than magica, but he knew it, the way he knew his hand was attached to his wrist.
“Good evening, Jerzy.”
“Good evening, Master Malech.” Even after these weeks studying with the Vineart, it was still strange to see the Master and know that he didn’t need to avert his eyes or fall to his knees or fear being cuffed by the overseer for insolence. Stranger still, to see his master relaxing, his quilted dressing robe over dark gray woven pants and an open-necked shirt of some deep blue color, his feet bare against the cool stone of the cellar floor.
Jerzy came all the way into the room and took what seemed to be the expected position on the wooden stool placed directly in front of the desk. The seat was worn smooth, and the height was just enough that he could tuck his legs underneath comfortably. He thought it might have been made for him, except the sheen of the wood suggested that it had been carved long before he had been born.
Guardian flew up into the ceiling, settling on a scarred wooden beam,
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