CHAPTER 24 – What Connects

There are months when nothing makes sense, and moments when everything at last comes together — when all the puzzling pieces that were scattered along the path suddenly click into place. Saphienne had one such moment when she arrived before Celaena’s house, gazing beyond a gate in a low wall that surrounded a hill which steeply climbed through terraced gardens overgrown with budding flowers up to a grand doorway in a house that was grown from more than– Iolas spoke with awe. “ is your home?” Celaena paused, her hand on the gate, and looked back at them. “Yes?” Saphienne blinked. “How many trees?” “I’ve never counted.” Celaena glanced up through the gardens, considering the grand building which she called home and the great trees that wove together to form its rooms. “Three, I think? One of them is much younger than the others, though. Father expanded the house when he decided he wanted a child.” Tearing their eyes away from the sight of it, Saphienne and Iolas shared a look. Celaena hesitated, and stepped away from the gate. “Is something wrong?” Shaking his head, Iolas strolled past her. “No. I just never imagined you living in a place like this.” “Like what?” Celaena blushed, self-conscious. “Is it the gardens? I know they’re a little wild, but I’m not really much of a gardener, and they’re only tended to every other month.” Realising that Celaena was oblivious, Saphienne smiled, and for once she was the one to reach out to her. “The gardens look beautiful,” she promised her as she took her hand. “We just weren’t expecting your home to be so impressive.” Although reassured, Celaena was still perplexed. “You’re impressed? What’s so impressive about the house?” Iolas started laughing as he pushed through the gate. “This explains a lot.” “What does?” Celaena let Saphienne lead her into her own gardens. “And what does it explain? Why are you– stop laughing!” But neither of them could help their giggles, not until they climbed the hill — not until Celaena muttered under her breath and pulled free of Saphienne to sweep haughtily through the pair of doors that led into her reception hall. “You’re being very rude,” she sniffed at them, though she was less offended than bemused. “I suppose you had better come inside.” Which Saphienne and Iolas hesitated to do, both children feeling small as they took in the tiled floor – which was dark as the midnight sky – and the high, white, vaulted ceiling – which lay three stories overhead – and the grand staircase that swept from one toward the other, lightening as it ascended. Saphienne stepped in first, and her footsteps echoed off the polished wooden walls and bounced up to the landings of the upper floors. Iolas joined her. “I’ve never seen a place like–” The door shut itself behind them, and they both jumped. Celaena was on the stairs, and she smirked. “Sorry, the door’s enchanted. It wouldn’t have opened, without me. You’ve never been to a wizard’s home before, have you?” Unable to help herself, Saphienne began to correct her. “Our master–” “I mean a wizard.” Celaena gestured around the hall. “Someone who really knows what they’re doing.” Clicking his way across the floor, Iolas stared all around himself — including down at his feet, disconcerted by his audible footfalls. “Your father: he’s a more powerful wizard than our master?” “I mean, he must be.” Casually sitting on the steps, she shrugged. “I don’t know which degree of spellcasting he’s obtained, but it’s higher than whatever our master can do, I’m sure.” That Celaena didn’t know the specifics intrigued Saphienne. “You don’t know? Why not?” What little confidence Celaena had found quickly faded away, and she was once more unsure of herself. “We don’t talk much about magic. I’ve seen him cast spells, and he was always very clear that I’d learn wizardry once I was old enough, but apart from telling me what to study… he was always careful not to break the rules.” Looking to Saphienne, Iolas nodded. “Wizards aren’t allowed to teach family members, are they?” “No.” Celaena sighed. “We can’t discuss magic. Not until I’m a wizard in my own right. He was much more cautious about it than–” She stopped herself, clearly reconsidering what she was about to say. “…Than others I’ve heard about.” Realisation made Saphienne speak aloud. “You mean Faylar’s aunt.” Her words caught Celaena by surprise, and the wizard’s daughter scowled at Saphienne. “I didn’t say any such thing! And Faylar would resent the implication.” Reaching the staircase, Iolas sat down on it as well, a few steps below Celaena. “I thought our master was the only wizard in our village?” Turning her attention to him, she nodded. “He is. Well, the only wizard who is recognised by the Luminary Vale. There are others, and they’re entitled to be called masters if they wish, and they have the right to assert their opinions if consensus is sought between practitioners of the Great Art. But they don’t have the authority our master does, since they can’t…” She grinned at Saphienne. “Since they can’t the Luminary Vale.” “But what about your father?” Iolas pressed her. “He doesn’t live here.” Celaena spoke matter-of-factly. “He hasn’t lived here for… I think a few hundred years.” Saphienne crossed to the steps, but didn’t sit. “So you live with your mother?” “Oh, no.” Realising she had assumed, Saphienne faintly blushed. “Sorry. I mean, with your guardian?” “What do– oh!” Celaena laughed. “No, Saphienne. I meant that my mother doesn’t live here — not that I don’t have a relationship with her. She’s a priest, cloistered, and lives far to the west. She visited me, once.” Iolas stared up at her. “Who do you live with, then?” “Well, nobody.” Celaena shrugged. “One of the neighbours is my guardian now, along with our master.” Saphienne couldn’t believe it. “You live here ” “Why wouldn’t I?” Celaena glanced between them both. “I stayed with father in one of his other houses when I was very little, and then he had someone from the village look after me when I first moved here. Madris, if you’ve met her?” She smiled, warmly. “She’s really lovely. Sometimes, she visits for tea.” Disturbed, Iolas shook his head. “Don’t you get lonely?” Celaena furrowed her brow. “Lonely? A wizard has to be comfortable being alone. Solitude is important to our work. And I have plenty of friends.” “…That’s very sad, Celaena.” Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Once more caught by surprise, she held his gaze for a moment, then looked away, and her eyes glimmered as she shook her head. “Don’t be odd.” Celaena smoothed her apprentice’s robes as she stood and turned away from her friends. “Anyway, we can talk properly in my study. Come on up.” Saphienne lingered for a moment at the bottom of the stairs as the others climbed, casting her eyes across the tile floor. It looked cold. * * * After their shock wore off, Saphienne and Iolas adjusted to Celaena’s lodgings quite quickly, and they were delighted to discover that her study – which was as big as the sitting room of Saphienne’s family home – even had its own small library. Saphienne’s enthusiasm dimmed slightly when she realised that she’d already read most of the books, and she was puzzled as she wondered what the point was. Why did Celaena have private copies of so many texts, when the village’s library could provide all she would ever need? Did she reread them so often? Were they all of sentimental value? “Sentimental?” Celaena laughed at Saphienne’s question. “Not at all. Doesn’t every decent wizard need a library of their own? Don’t you have one? How about you, Iolas?” He shook his head in reply; Celaena thought they were both quite odd. Later in the afternoon, in the middle of their note-sharing session, Celaena abruptly looked up, then jumped to her feet and threw open a window, greeting the magpies that had come to roost outside. She introduced each as she fed them with seeds she kept in her satchel, explaining their family history, along with their rivalry with the local crows — which she was doing her best to calm, by feeding the two flocks together whenever she could. She beckoned her fellow elves over, introducing them in turn to her avian friends. Iolas already knew about the seeds. “She really likes birds,” he said to Saphienne, gently petting one of the tamed magpies as it ate from his palm. “I just didn’t know she liked them much.” * * * When evening came, Saphienne lingered outside the imposing doorway after Iolas had left, and she stared thoughtfully at Celaena, until the older girl blushed. “What is it, Saphienne?” Saphienne made up her mind. “Would you like to have dinner with me?” Her question was not what Celaena was expecting, and caused the girl’s flush to deepen even further, alarm appearing in her eyes. “Saphienne, I’m flattered, but… you know I have a friend… and you’re too young…” “Too young to eat with me?” Saphienne tilted her head. “I’m going to meet Faylar at the library. We eat dinner together. I thought you might want to join us, since… you both should be friends again.” Celaena’s expression had quickly danced through several different emotions as Saphienne was speaking, and now settled on awkward relief. “I see. You shouldn’t have phrased it like that.” Endeared by her, she managed a smile. “Odd bird.” “You’re avoiding the question.” Celaena coughed, and looked over Saphienne’s shoulder, watching Iolas pass through the gate. “…I was meant to ask you where you live, wasn’t I? I suppose you could show me… after dinner… but…” She sighed, and returned her gaze to Saphienne. “Do you think Faylar wants to see me?” “He does.” She leant against the frame of the door. “I spoke to him yesterday. He said he misses you.” “I don’t even know what to say to him. ‘Hello Faylar, nice to see you, sorry you’re not cut out for wizardry?’ His heart was set on joining us.” She stared down at her shoes, her brooding reflected in the black tiles. “I don’t know what else we have in common.” Saphienne lightly stepped on Celaena’s foot, and glared at her when she looked up in surprise. “Find out! And he cut out for wizardry, he’s just taking longer to get there. Don’t you dare discourage him.” Studying her face, Celaena seemed unconvinced. “Isn’t it cruel? To give him false hope?” “I’m not pretending.” Saphienne folded her arms. “He’s learning a lot. And just because he was turned away, that doesn’t mean he won’t be back. Almon turned me away at first, remember.” “You’re not meant to say his name, you’re supposed to call him your mas–” “Oh, fuck all that.” Saphienne felt her cheeks burning, unused to swearing. “Which matters more? Respect for wizards, or your friends?” Celaena opened her mouth to answer, but no words came. She looked startled, and then conflicted, and when she finally spoke her voice sounded much smaller. “…Both matter.” “Do you miss Faylar?” Celaena nodded. “Then come have dinner with us. Tease him, like you used to.” Wavering, Celaena went to step out, then stopped, glancing down at her robes. “Let me get changed, first. I know we’re meant to wear the robes, but…” Saphienne blinked. “What?” “I don’t want to remind him that we–” “I meant about the robes. What do you mean, we’re meant to wear them?” Celaena took a moment, and then she smiled. “No one told you? Wizards who are welcomed into the Luminary Vale, or who want to be welcomed there, are meant to wear their robes when out in public. Apprentices with such ambitions are supposed to do the same.” Saphienne still didn’t understand. “Why?” “Appearances.” Celaena gave her an indulgent smile. “Being a wizard has to matter to you, more than anything, and you have to show everyone else that it matters. Also, people treat wizards with deference.” “I don’t see why that… really, of the time?” “Most of the time. Enough that people are surprised when you don’t wear them.” Her eyes were bright. “Father told me all about it. He sent me a very long letter. But I don’t think he’d disapprove if I dressed informally this time, since there’s a good reason.” Stepping forward, she hugged Saphienne. “Wait here. I’ll be back down.” The door shut itself as she went back inside, leaving Saphienne to ponder her own robes. Yesterday, she had changed out of them without thinking. She hadn’t meant to spare Faylar from heartache. The thought had never even crossed her mind. * * * Since Celaena had left Saphienne stood on her doorstep while she changed, Saphienne felt comfortable doing the same when they stopped by her house. Fortunately, her mother was entranced by the fascinator, lounging in her bedroom, and so didn’t even notice when Saphienne came up the stairs, nor did she do anything other than laugh quietly to herself as Saphienne went back down them. Idly, as Saphienne collected food for herself and her friends from the pantry, she wondered what magical daydream could be so amusing to her mother. Faylar was sitting by the fire when the girls arrived at the library, reading over his written notes and making annotations in the margins. He didn’t glance up when Saphienne appeared next to him. “Just a moment.” “…Hello Faylar,” Celaena said. His pen scratched a long line across the page as he looked up, and he inhaled sharply — caught between happiness to see Celaena, and fear at by her. She, too, stood awkwardly, and clasped her hands together behind her back, squeezing her fingers to distract herself from her anxiety. Saphienne looked between them both. She didn’t know what to say. But it was Celaena who broke the silence, looking pointedly at the page he’d just scored. “I see your calligraphy hasn’t gotten any better.” Faylar looked down, and then mildly grinned at the paper, his grin remaining in place as he set it aside and made a show of brushing his hair behind his ear, sitting back. “It’s quite good, actually. When I’m not being interrupted. Don’t you have spells you’re meant to be learning?” She laughed. “Like you’d know anything about that.” “Oh.” His expression grew sad. “I suppose not.” Celaena turned pale, and she started to apologise — only for Faylar to burst out laughing, and he stood up to hug her as she warmed to a rosy red. She slapped his back. “Ass.” “Good to see you, too.” Saphienne smiled, though her smile was short-lived, as Filaurel coughed meaningfully at the three of them from her desk, glancing from them to a small child who was reading within earshot. “We should go upstairs,” Saphienne said, lifting the basket that held their dinner. Celaena glanced at the librarian, and lowered her voice. “Are we allowed to eat in here?” “Faylar and I can.” He agreed. “There are rules. You better follow them, or Saphienne will turn you into a toad. She can do that now, she said.” Saphienne blinked. “No I didn’t–” But both of them were loudly laughing at her, and she got the joke and laughed along — until Filaurel loudly shushed them all, her face stern. Chastened now, Saphienne, Faylar, and Celaena shuffled away, and they went up the stairs together. Faylar spoke again when they were halfway between the floors. “So, what have you been learning?” “About the disciplines of magic,” Saphienne answered. “We’ve touched on a few. Nothing about casting spells, more the history of how the disciplines were discovered, and the rules they follow.” “We’re not supposed to share specifics,” Celaena cautioned. “Our master’s the only wizard in the village who can teach magic.” Faylar sighed. “Well, fuck me for asking, I guess. Still, is it fun?” Both apprentices paused on the upper landing, looking to each other, neither quite sure how to answer the question. Then Celaena grinned. “You know something, Faylar? As of today, I think it’s going to be. We’re going to have a lot of fun. Won’t we, Saphienne?” Saphienne met her with a hopeful smile. “Let’s find out.” End of Chapter 24