Chapter 8

MAY 9TH AT THE FOUR METALS SOCIETY HOUSE, TRELLECH

“H ow is it, being back?” Vitus looked up. The gathering of the Four Metals was more or less wrapping up, a lunchtime discussion. He’d only made it to two other of the society gatherings since he’d returned to Albion, between the family demands, sorting through plans with Niobe, and a few minor commissions. Today’s talk, however, had been about symbology and simplification or decoration of the same, all relevant to his professional interests.

“Amayas.” Vitus nodded. Amayas Robson had been a few years ahead of him at Schola, also in Salmon House, but he’d gone into an entirely different line of magical inventiveness. He had a knack for making devices, mostly those designed for secure storage, with a range of locks, magical protections, and decorations. Sometimes the decorations were also protections, of course. “Busy, of course. And you’ve gone through the same thing, beginning to establish yourself.”

“Ah, yes. Chasing the perfect commission that will simultaneously show your particular skills without stepping too much on the toes of anyone else in the field.” Amayas offered a quick grin. “I’m glad you’re not in mine, actually, the way you were asking questions.”

Vitus had thought about that aspect of it. “Fortunately, Niobe thinks training someone up to a high standard reflects well on her. And she’s always getting more requests than she can handle. It’s just a matter of convincing a couple to consider me.”

“Which is part timing and luck, and part the whim of the client. None of which are certain.” Amayas considered, then crooked a finger for one woman to come over. “Merryn, you remember Vitus Deschamps, yes? He just returned from the Continent last month. You two want to talk carving techniques sometime, I expect.”

Amayas melted away at that, leaving Vitus to stand and make a little bow, then figure out what to do with himself. “Mistress Penforth.” He’d start with politeness, even if the Four Metals generally only gave a brief nod to formality within their society house walls. Merryn was a bit older - perhaps late thirties - and sedately dressed. She was Cornish, Vitus remembered. Professionally, she did something with stone carving, making warding and boundary stones. Within the Four Metals, though, she had a reputation for cunning little automatons, and she sold them as a sideline.

“You needn’t.” It might have been sharp, but she had a lovely smile, even and relaxed. “You’re apprenticing with Niobe, if I remember correctly? Almost done, I’m assuming. You had that question about connective engraving.”

“That, and the difference between a fully detailed symbol and one that is simplified. I know the answer is to do a duplicate and test it, but that’s not so easy when the stones are expensive.” Vitus spread his hands out.

“Deschamps, Deschamps.” She cocked her head, considering something. “You might have a word with Philip Landry, if he has a moment. Not one of us, of course, but he’s consulted on a few projects I’ve worked on. Tell him I suggested it. That might actually help. He’s got rather an interesting line of discussion about the shifts from fully detailed hieroglyphs to hieratic and Demotic. Something about the way the shapes carry meaning and it’s the meaning that matters. Even if the original pure form, as some people have it, would have all the minute details.”

“I don’t know much about any of that. And I’d not have thought to ask him.” Vitus considered. “You think well of his work?”

“Don’t believe all the gossip you hear, mmm?” She snorted. “Oh, he absolutely has secrets and all sorts of magics I’ve no idea about. But he’s also got new ways of thinking about a problem. A very Four Metals sort of thinking, in his own way.”

Vitus nodded. He’d never have considered the approach without active encouragement. “I can send a note, at least, and see what comes of it. Thank you, that might help me figure out a way forward. You use some techniques related to layering, don’t you? Not bind-runes exactly, but related approaches?”

That got her off into a good five minutes digression on historical and modern applications. Also, she laid out the benefits for boundary markers, and how to make the things look appealing as well as being useful. None of it was entirely relevant to the current problem Vitus was trying to sort out. Niobe had given him a piece of jasper with an awkwardly placed conchoidal fracture, already too small to be worth shaping further if they were to do any carving. His assignment had been to figure out something that would work with the shape as it was.

When she paused, she then laughed. “You are very polite. That will take you far.”

Vitus let himself smile. “It’s no difficulty to listen to someone both knowledgeable and passionate. Besides, isn’t that what we’re here for, all of us with our own pet projects and wanting someone to appreciate them?”

Merryn tilted her head again. It reminded him of some watchful animal. “Not everyone does as you do.” She then gestured. “Next week, Wednesday, perhaps supper beforehand with a few other people? We might have some ideas for making further connections. I suspect you’re going to say Daedalus Briggs’ devices aren’t your sort of thing, but you really should come. It’s how he talks about them that will intrigue.”

That, of course, was the reason he was here today. He wasn’t fool enough to turn down that kind of invitation for a more intimate gathering that would lend itself to back-and-forth conversation and perhaps further introductions. Vitus nodded. “I’d be delighted. Send me a note with when and where?” He’d make it work, though he hoped the restaurant wouldn’t be too dear. He reached into the inside pocket, pulling out his calling card and writing a note with the message address. A few minutes later, after two other brief nods at people he’d like to talk to more soon, he was out the door, walking back toward Niobe’s workshop. She wasn’t expecting him at any particular point, thankfully, since he’d already been longer than expected.

He was turning right from Trivium Way onto Caelum Road when he spotted an unexpected figure. That was Philip Landry, properly turned out, but pausing by one of the newspaper stands. Luck was with Vitus. The carters were out in force at the moment, making deliveries. Despite that, he crossed the street without risk of life or limb. Landry hadn’t moved from his spot.

Vitus nodded once. “Pardon, Magister Landry?” He would begin politely for several reasons, starting with the fact he was asking a favour.

The other man blinked at him once or twice, then said promptly, with the sort of speed that suggested he kept a large roster of names and faces in his head. “Vitus Deschamps, isn’t it? I heard you were back from the Continent.”

“Three weeks ago, yes. It was a most educational trip, though I am glad to be home. Might I ask for a moment of your time? Magistra Merryn Penforth suggested I ask if you’d be willing to consult about something I’m working on. Suitable arrangements, of course, for an hour or so.” Vitus was of the class - as were the Landrys - where business was done and consulting fees were paid, but where naming a number in the open was decidedly considered déclassé.

Philip Landry inclined his head. “Perhaps we might walk and you can tell me the scope?” He gestured with one hand. His voice was a pleasant baritone, though with a hint of an accent to it.

“I was going back towards Magistra Niobe Hall’s workshop,” Vitus offered. “But if you were going another direction, sir, I’m glad to walk with you.”

“That will do well. I was heading a little further myself.” They picked up a steady walk. Before Vitus could say anything further, Landry added. “My younger brother is to make a Grand Tour. He leaves in July. Paris, first, of course, for the Exposition Universelle.” His voice was pleasant, entirely conversational, but giving the French name for the World’s Fair rather than the English. “Perhaps I might ask you to suggest places to visit or avoid, as part of our conversation?”

“I would be glad to.” It was an easy enough thing to agree to, especially if it eased the way. “A focus on what area of study, may I ask?”

“Ritual, primarily, but of course, that encompasses many other fields. Your own focus would have been mineralogical as well as the crafting of talismans, I assume?” Landry glanced over at him.

Vitus nodded. “I’d be glad to write a letter of introduction or two. I can certainly pull together my notes, depending on where he expects the trip to take him.” Then he took a breath. “I’ve a particular piece I’m working on, where space, shape, and size are considerations.” As they covered the next block or two, he laid out the basics, what Merryn Penforth had suggested, and then waited.

Landry listened attentively, then nodded. “I could go over enough you could make sense of some of the literature in an hour.” He considered. “You are a young man, setting up in the world.” He named a number, and added, “And whatever you feel you can pass along from your travels.”

It was decidedly on the low side. Vitus considered. “I wouldn’t wish to undervalue your expertise, sir.”

“My choice.” The words came out bluntly. Then Landry offered a smile. This one put Vitus a bit on edge, for all the danger in it didn’t seem aimed at him. “It does not require much effort on my part, just my time, and I will look forward to an hour talking about a topic too few appreciate. Perhaps you might call on me in my rooms, oh, next week?”

They made the arrangements after considering their various obligations, settling on Thursday week. Vitus considered, then said, “Pardon, may I ask another question? Related to the Fortiers.”

There was another of those shifts, of Landry rearranging himself, as if he might need to act in some new way. “Yes?” The reply was entirely neutral in tone.

“I had the pleasure of meeting Mistress Lytton-Powell at the St George’s Day gala. She invited me to call on her for a professional consultation, but I—” His voice trailed off. “I did not wish to give offence, either to her, or to her fiancé’s family.”

“And I would indeed know something about that.” Landry nodded once, though he was silent for long enough that Vitus was sure he’d overstepped somehow. “If she made the invitation, she considers it within her bounds. I would not, however, seek a meeting in some private place. The seeming of the thing, you understand, rather than the risk of it?”

It took Vitus a moment to think that through. “I thought her illusion work skilful. And more than that, artistically innovative. As someone who looks to make works of magic that combine function and form, it caught my eye.”

Landry inclined his head. “Her family has brought her up well, in all the ways one means by that sentence. Call on her in her apprenticeship, when her apprentice mistress is available. But yes, I think you might have mutual interests, in the way your magic is expressed.” He shrugged once. “I would put in a word for you, but I do not expect to see her to speak to for at least a fortnight. I have a number of other obligations.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t expect you to extend yourself on that point. You barely know me.” Vitus nodded. “I appreciate that. I’ll send a message and ask her to let me know if there is a convenient time.” It would let her decide, or let her dissuade, if her comments at the gala had been pure politeness.

“I hope your family is also well? I suppose the next event of note will be the Midsummer Faire.” Landry offered it agreeably. “Or perhaps the Council rites?”

“The latter, I expect. We were honoured with an invitation this year.” It would be a fantastic opportunity to remind people that Vitus and his skills existed. Papa had exerted himself on that count, dropping a word in a couple of relevant ears. “Mama is quite looking forward to it. And then the Faire, yes, that’s always an enjoyable outing.” And a necessary place for him to begin to establish himself.

“I will hope to see you at one or the other, then. Please remember me to your mother. She has always been delightful to speak with.” Landry then touched his hat. “I should be off. Thursday next, you needn’t bring anything other than whatever you use for notes.”

Vitus nodded. “Thank you for your time, and the time to come.” He watched Landry walk off, further into the crafting quarter, before turning down into the courtyard that led to Niobe’s workshop. He had the sense, strong but hard to pin down, that Landry had been pleased to have a conversation about skill and knowledge that was comfortable for him. And that, simultaneously, that it was a change from other conversations in his life. The information about Mistress Lytton-Powell was, however, welcome, and he would figure out how to send a note round in the next day or so.