That day, and throughout examinations and the Midwinter festivities, Ozorne lived with all of their belongings in a spare room of the suite shared by Lindhall’s runners. He took it in good part, to Arram’s relief. The truth was that the normally proud prince was so happy to be a part of Lindhall’s large staff that he could have joined Arram on a pallet in the workroom and still have been happy. Arram was simply glad not to be forced to deal with the two older boys anymore.
With examinations over, it was the best Midwinter Arram had celebrated yet. A large mahogany chest, ornamented all over in intricate carvings, was given to him by Master Cosmas the day before the holiday began. It had come all the way from the Yamani Islands by way of Arram’s family in Tyra. It was a perfect mage’s piece, filled with boxes of different sizes that fitted together perfectly inside. Arram quickly learned that such boxes could be switched around to use more room or less and leave space for other things. The chest was from his father, who now studied silk weaving in the Yamani Islands. The rest of his family had placed smaller gifts in each box, to let him know they remembered him.
There were gifts that made him happy from his masters and from Varice and Ozorne. He had done the same for Varice and Ozorne, he thought, but when he gave Prisca a book on the great queens of the Eastern Realms, wonderfully illustrated, her thank-yous were less than enthusiastic. Her own gift to him was a set of five linen handkerchiefs. Admittedly, he was forever using up handkerchiefs and ruining many, but the gift didn’t seem very…romantic. She hadn’t even embroidered them.
“Perhaps she isn’t good at embroidery?” Ozorne suggested. They were in one of many galleys rowing to the imperial palace for a Midwinter party hosted by his mother, and Arram had mentioned his disappointment.
Varice sniffed. “Arram can do better,” she said.
“Better embroidery?” Ozorne asked, startled. “Sewing, I’ll grant you, but—”
Varice tapped him on the shoulder with the sweet-smelling wooden fan Ozorne had given her. “Don’t be a dolt,” she told him sternly. “That shirt doesn’t fit you.”
“I love Prisca!” Arram protested.
“Do you?” Varice asked as the wind blew a drift of rain under their cover. “Weren’t you saying just the other day she hardly seems to listen when you talk to her?”
“I try to discuss things she likes,” Arram said, defending his ladylove.
“And she says you don’t know what you’re talking about. I know that much,” Ozorne said as their boat docked. “Forget about her for tonight anyway. I know Mother will have invited a number of people our age who will take our minds off of everything. Not to mention the splendid food and music!”
He was right. It was a glorious party. Not only was Princess Mahira smiling, but she also deigned to dance. Twice she accepted Master Chioké’s hand, and once she did a solemn weaver’s dance with Prince Stiloit, second in line for the throne. The prince might have danced with the princess more, Ozorne confided to Arram, but he chose instead to take three dances with Varice.
She was blushing heartily when she rejoined her friends after that third dance. “Apparently it’s right what they say, about how bawdy seafaring men are!” she told them as she fanned herself vigorously. “The jokes that man told me!” She grinned.
Arram and Varice returned early, near midnight. Ozorne remained to join his mother and the emperor for other Midwinter celebrations. Varice collapsed against their boat’s cushions with a sigh of relief and made no attempt to hold a conversation until they were halfway across the river. Instead they were bundled under a couple of blankets—the rainy night had gotten colder—and listened to the river and droplets on the canopy.
“I do love to go to parties with Ozorne,” she confided. “But I love to return from them with you. Ozorne will talk all the way home. He doesn’t understand that sometimes you want to think about the lights, and the arrangements, and the lace….”
Arram, who could feel the fishes coasting lazily under their boat, smiled.
“And those little bites of papery bread around pomegranates and seasoned ground lamb with turmeric—just a touch. I’d like to try making that. The bread was the trickiest.”
“Like phyllo,” Arram suggested. He had never been interested in cooking before meeting her. He loved to help her with ideas, but the few times she had allowed him to assist her with cooking had not gone well, with aftermaths that involved scrubbing, scraping, and—once—repainting the wall of the kitchen they had used.
“Phyllo, exactly, only far more fragile! I’ll have to experiment.” The boat was drawing up to the dock when she said, “Will I ever have such wonderful friends as you and Ozorne again?”
Alarmed, he handed her to the boatman reaching for her from the dock. “Were you planning on getting rid of us?” he asked, scrambling up the ladder after her.
“No, no!” she protested as Arram cast protection from the rain over them both. “But a girl needs more than two friends in a lifetime.”
The midnight bells began to chime, signaling the change from midnight to the first hour.
“The Winter’s Crone is here,” Varice said, and shivered. Arram pulled the blanket up higher around her shoulders and tucked it in. She leaned against him and sighed. “But she brings good fortune, if we have the courage and stamina to seek it, and she holds the secrets to magic in her hands.” She sat up, excited. “And she must like us, because look at us! We rise and keep rising—all three of us with more masters handling our lessons than most who graduate with their certificates ever see. As long as we work hard and please the gods, we’ll keep rising!” She settled back against Arram’s shoulder. “It’s going to be a wonderful year. I can feel it in my bones.”
THE IMPERIAL UNIVERSITY OF CARTHAK
The School for Mages
The Upper Academy
SCHEDULE OF STUDY, SPRING TERM, 438 H.E.
Student: Arram Draper Learning Level: Independent
Second Morning Bell
Stone Magic—Yadeen
Third Morning Bell
Fire Magic—Cosmas, breakfast supplied
Morning Classes
Reptiles—Lindhall Reed, instructors Tribal Magic—Urukut Ahilep Medicines—Ramasu, instructors
Lunch—Noon Bell
Afternoon Classes
Advanced Charms—Faziy aHadi Illusions: Birds—Dagani Plants—Hulak
Water Magic—Sebo
Supper—Seventh Afternoon Bell
Extra Study at Need
The day after the end of the Midwinter holiday, Ozorne treated his two friends to a boat ride from the university to the port city of Thak’s Gate, at the end of the Zekoi. The season wasn’t ideal for boat rides, but they bore the winter rains for the excitement of visiting the markets, which were open and booming, filled with people from all around the Inland Sea. They came back exhausted and happy, carrying their purchases under their waterproof cloaks.