student.”
“Former student, I believe. And, yes, I hired her. For some reason, I’ve found it tremendously difficult to engage the services of a master craftsman no matter how much money I offer them. This one I found living on the streets.”
“There’s a reason for that.”
Kal glanced aside and noted that Haran was watching their exchange closely along with any number of other people. The last time Kal had spoken with Lanel, he’d been raving. He’d hurled desperate threats to destroy the guild if they refused to help his daughter. Their feud had become so public and so virulent that the emperor had been forced to step in. The emperor—a child then—had upheld the ancient law of the guild and Nira had died with the summer fevers. For Lanel to approach him now...
Kal tipped his head. “And what reason is that exactly? I always thought that the guild took care of their own.”
“People of great power can oftentimes become...eccentric, and Ily was very talented.”
“Is. Ily is talented. Extremely.”
The innuendo was deliberate, but Lanel merely inclined his head. “We lost track of her after she left the University. Ily was the one who turned her back on her family, but we stand ever ready to welcome her back into the fold. If you would pass that along to her, I would be most grateful. You may also tell her that I’m willing to receive her at any time should she wish to speak with me.”
Kal’s blood chilled and then began to pulse through his veins with a heavy beat. “I’ll tell her.”
“I want to know that she’s safe.”
“She’s far safer in my home than she was living on the streets. When she was starving in the gutter, where were you then?”
“Waiting for her to return to her senses, even as we are now, with our hands extended in fellowship and support. She belongs with me...with us, at the University. I only want the best for her.”
Kal leaned in close and felt fierce satisfaction when Lanel flinched. Jilar caught Kal’s eye and moved his hand in a subtle gesture indicating that the emperor wished to speak with him. A rebuke but it didn’t stop Kal from smiling at Lanel, letting the man see his hatred.
“If there’s any truth to that, guildmaster, then I suggest that you leave her alone.”
Chapter Eleven
Ily stretched and her back cracked. Her body was spent and her mind was a puddle of melted wax. She’d pushed herself too far and would pay for it in the morning. But she was finished for the day and nearly done with the rug. By late afternoon, she’d completed the central pattern, a subtle coiling weave that left the medallion prominent. Everything about the design was intended to direct the eye to the emperor’s crest. A beginner’s mistake to match the colors to the crest. She’d taken the deepest shade and gone one off that to offer some contrast but not enough to overwhelm the eye.
She could have stopped then, probably should have rested, but she’d been a coward. Not quite ready to leave the shelter of this workshop and face Kal again. Their partnership was soon coming to an end and it distressed her greatly. She would have to leave. But she would leave well compensated for her time and talent, able to build a life in another town. Possibly Cresa, rumored to be wild and untamed, well away from the iron grip of the guild.
So very far from Kal and his hard body and smooth tongue. She would miss him, and that realization chased her back into her work. When she was working, there wasn’t room in her mind to consider these disturbing truths. There wasn’t room for anything but the weave, the flow of magic through her body. Pure, good and clean. Dangerous too. It was possible to drift away into the peace of it, lose your concentration, relinquish control and let the magic drain you completely. She would stop herself before that happened. Of course, she would. She’d never been one to give up.
Kal was waiting for her when she opened the door. Leaning against
“Former student, I believe. And, yes, I hired her. For some reason, I’ve found it tremendously difficult to engage the services of a master craftsman no matter how much money I offer them. This one I found living on the streets.”
“There’s a reason for that.”
Kal glanced aside and noted that Haran was watching their exchange closely along with any number of other people. The last time Kal had spoken with Lanel, he’d been raving. He’d hurled desperate threats to destroy the guild if they refused to help his daughter. Their feud had become so public and so virulent that the emperor had been forced to step in. The emperor—a child then—had upheld the ancient law of the guild and Nira had died with the summer fevers. For Lanel to approach him now...
Kal tipped his head. “And what reason is that exactly? I always thought that the guild took care of their own.”
“People of great power can oftentimes become...eccentric, and Ily was very talented.”
“Is. Ily is talented. Extremely.”
The innuendo was deliberate, but Lanel merely inclined his head. “We lost track of her after she left the University. Ily was the one who turned her back on her family, but we stand ever ready to welcome her back into the fold. If you would pass that along to her, I would be most grateful. You may also tell her that I’m willing to receive her at any time should she wish to speak with me.”
Kal’s blood chilled and then began to pulse through his veins with a heavy beat. “I’ll tell her.”
“I want to know that she’s safe.”
“She’s far safer in my home than she was living on the streets. When she was starving in the gutter, where were you then?”
“Waiting for her to return to her senses, even as we are now, with our hands extended in fellowship and support. She belongs with me...with us, at the University. I only want the best for her.”
Kal leaned in close and felt fierce satisfaction when Lanel flinched. Jilar caught Kal’s eye and moved his hand in a subtle gesture indicating that the emperor wished to speak with him. A rebuke but it didn’t stop Kal from smiling at Lanel, letting the man see his hatred.
“If there’s any truth to that, guildmaster, then I suggest that you leave her alone.”
Chapter Eleven
Ily stretched and her back cracked. Her body was spent and her mind was a puddle of melted wax. She’d pushed herself too far and would pay for it in the morning. But she was finished for the day and nearly done with the rug. By late afternoon, she’d completed the central pattern, a subtle coiling weave that left the medallion prominent. Everything about the design was intended to direct the eye to the emperor’s crest. A beginner’s mistake to match the colors to the crest. She’d taken the deepest shade and gone one off that to offer some contrast but not enough to overwhelm the eye.
She could have stopped then, probably should have rested, but she’d been a coward. Not quite ready to leave the shelter of this workshop and face Kal again. Their partnership was soon coming to an end and it distressed her greatly. She would have to leave. But she would leave well compensated for her time and talent, able to build a life in another town. Possibly Cresa, rumored to be wild and untamed, well away from the iron grip of the guild.
So very far from Kal and his hard body and smooth tongue. She would miss him, and that realization chased her back into her work. When she was working, there wasn’t room in her mind to consider these disturbing truths. There wasn’t room for anything but the weave, the flow of magic through her body. Pure, good and clean. Dangerous too. It was possible to drift away into the peace of it, lose your concentration, relinquish control and let the magic drain you completely. She would stop herself before that happened. Of course, she would. She’d never been one to give up.
Kal was waiting for her when she opened the door. Leaning against
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