Chapter 32

APRIL 1ST

A nnice woke up unsure of where she was for a minute. Everything felt slightly unreal, though not at all in a bad way. The bed underneath her was cushioned, not the sort of soft that she had sunk into, like some fairy tale, but the sort of soft that supported. She stretched out on her back, trying to sort out her thoughts.

Last night, Griffin had shown her to the inn, and then stayed for supper. He'd checked, of course, that she wouldn't rather be on her own. Having him there had been a help. He knew how to talk to the staff. Well, he'd known at least half of them by name. He'd asked after brothers, parents, aunts, cheerfully, introducing her as a specialist who was helping out in the courts, as Mistress Matthewman.

When he'd left her, one of the staff, a woman, had taken her upstairs to her room. It was twice the size of her room at home - not like that was terribly hard. It had its own bathing room and loo, plenty of space for clothing, a desk. And on that desk, there had been a basket of things to eat. The woman had pointed out the cold box, and noted it was stocked with beer and cheese and cream for the tea. Then she'd indicated where the kettle and teapot were.

Annice had investigated the basket cautiously when she'd been left on her own, and she'd found tea she liked. The beer was a local brewery, not one she knew, but it was exactly the sort of thing she'd mentioned liking. And a note from Griffin, in what she knew was his handwriting, saying it was in case she was peckish.

Attention to detail. Annice stared up at the ceiling. There was a lot she found lovely about Griffin. A lot she didn't understand, still, but a great deal she liked. Yesterday, how was that just yesterday, she'd wanted to kiss him because he cared about the grief, because he wanted to do what small things he could to ease that. Possibly also big ones, because people probably didn't end up needing his help in detail if things went smoothly.

But this morning, she found herself dwelling on his attention to the small things. He'd been paying attention to her, to what she liked and didn't like, and it showed in every bit of what he did. The basket, but also making sure she wasn't left on her own in a strange place, not sure how to act or what would be rude. And today, he was going to introduce her to someone who could help.

She took her time getting ready - he'd said he had some business at the Courts first thing in the morning. That meant a pleasant breakfast in the inn's morning room. The handful of other guests were all busy reading papers or books, and she read through the Trellech Moon as she ate. Then she tidied herself up, hoping she looked like she knew a bit about what she was about. She had a clean blouse, the better of her blue skirts, a cardigan, and she'd put up her hair properly. It would have to do.

Griffin had explained this to her. That Annice was going to meet someone who worked in gemstones, all sorts of stones, and that she made talismans out of them. Not like the jet pieces that Annice had packed, but tiny things, intricate, a kind of magic she didn't even know how to think about. Magistra Hall was in her late seventies, apparently the sort of woman who kept working because she enjoyed her work, but who didn't need to anymore. Annice had no idea what that would feel like, either.

What she knew was that they were going to a workshop in the crafting quarter of Trellech. And Annice wanted to make a good impression. Griffin thought well of Magistra Hall, and she didn't want to embarrass him. He'd said that if they got on, Magistra Hall might be willing to work with Annice longer than a few days. Annice had no idea how to think about that, it seemed terribly unlikely to her in several dimensions. Why would someone like that want to work with her? All she knew was jet. On the other hand, she was determined to be polite and learn what she could.

Once she was done with breakfast, she went outside a little early, because she didn't see the point in making Griffin fuss with getting the ramp at the side door if he didn't need to. He wheeled up, perfectly on time. "Morning."

Annice let out a breath, then it all came out in a rush. "You really thought of everything, thank you. It made me feel comfortable. And they've been lovely."

He lit up, just delighted, and she wanted to keep doing that. Annice was beginning to suspect that not enough people noticed all the things he was quietly doing to make things work. She could at least notice and let him know she had. "Oh, good. Not that I had any doubts. The inn does very well with people who are reasonable."

"Some people aren't reasonable?" They set off, with Griffin telling her stories he'd heard, about various people who were in fact not at all reasonable. They had been banished to the inns near the market, who both charged rates fit for putting up with the nonsense, and who employed specialist staff to make sure it didn't bother other guests. They crossed a fair bit of the city centre, though on different streets than the day before. Annice thought the route a bit more efficient, before Griffin turned into an alley. It opened into a courtyard, and Griffin was reaching for his crutches before Annice could think to ask where they were going.

"Is the chair all right here?" He must know what he was doing. He turned over his shoulder and grinned. "See the pavement? Actually, here, take three steps back toward the arch, then come here again. Pay attention to how it feels."

She did, moving from a smoothly tiled courtyard to larger pieces of what looked like slate, set in hexagonal shapes. Annice could feel the difference. Now she was concentrating on it, but it was subtle. Griffin took a step or two away from the chair. "And now try to move the chair."

"You're sure?" Annice hadn't wanted to interfere with it, though she'd seen Charlus help him with it a few times.

"Just try to move it a little, from the back. You won't hurt it." He was grinning broadly, the kind of grin that meant she could give him a gift by going along with it. She stepped up behind it, pushing gently. The wheels moved a tiny amount, maybe an inch, but then the chair rocked back against her hands.

"Not brakes." She looked down at her feet. "Warding?"

"A very specific warding. Any object on the property can only be moved by the properly designated owner, or by the owner of the property. I trust her, it's not raining, we're fine to leave the chair here. It's a little cramped inside."

That proved to be true. Griffin got the door, then half propped it open with his shoulder to let her come through. Annice stepped into a shop that had a small space at the front with a counter. There were all sorts of ceramic and stone pieces hanging from the ceiling, on cords, and then carved stones set in rings and pendants under glass at the counter. There was a woman seated behind the counter, knitting, with grey hair pulled back in an old-fashioned plain bun. She was dressed well. That was the kind of fabric that would have Annice suggesting the nicer pieces, the ones that had taken more work and bigger stones, but she wore it comfortably. Annice wasn't very used to judging age among the magical, but she wouldn't have thought this woman in her later seventies, maybe late sixties.

"Magistra Niobe Hall, this is Mistress Annice Matthewman. Annice, this is Niobe, a shining light among Albion's crafters." He held up two fingers. "I remember how you scolded me last time, when I said only Trellech."

The older woman laughed. "You rarely make the same mistake twice. Do come through, Mistress. Or shall we be informal?"

Annice swallowed. "You are welcome to be informal with me, Magistra. I am not entirely sure if I can manage it with you."

That got a longer laugh, easy and good-hearted. "Oh, we're going to do very well together, I suspect. Come along." She hopped off the stool she'd been sitting on, setting her knitting down, and going down the narrow hallway toward the back of the shop. Annice at least knew what to do with that, and she followed, with Griffin behind her.

The hall had a couple of closed doors, and then a set of stairs climbing up in the middle of the building. The workshop was perhaps twice the size of the front, with a wide range of workbenches, and tools that Annice more or less recognised. Not that she'd used all of them - there was a pottery wheel in the corner on one side. "Now, you had something for me to look at? Here, back on this bench, it's clean." The workbench at the back was in fact completely lacking in dust of any kind. After a quick nod from Griffin, Annice set her bag down and brought out the three boxes of the talismans.

"May I touch them?" Niobe had pulled on an apron - or maybe a smock. It had loose sleeves that covered her upper arms. Annice nodded. Griffin pulled up a stool without asking permission. Niobe took quite a long time examining each stone, first looking at all three in quick succession, then going back for details.

Annice shifted uneasily from foot to foot, and she was starting to feel a tad achy, when Niobe turned her head. "I'll need to think about these a bit. A few days, if you're willing. I should be able to fully transcribe what they do and what they were intended to do. And also propose a method for reawakening them, if you wish. I won't guarantee success, not yet - it's not my work, someone else's work is always trickier. But I'll be able to give you more information then."

Whatever Annice had expected, it wasn't that. She opened her mouth, then closed it, not sure what to say. Niobe glanced at her, then shrugged one shoulder. "And you've brought some of what you've made? Can you bring that out, please?"

Griffin had told her to, so she had. Now Annice reached into the bag again, and brought out the dozen pieces she'd packed, showing the range of her skill, all nestled into cotton wool. She opened the box, and set it down, and Niobe asked, just once, "And I may handle these?"

Annice nodded and then went back to uncomfortable shifting. She didn't want to sit, that was the thing, she was all nerves now. After a minute or so, she felt Griffin's hand on her back, just above her waist, steadying, and she leaned into it just a little, the pressure helping, before she glanced over at him. He was just there, patient, waiting, like he was sure what they were going to hear.

This examination was shorter. "This is quite skilled work, and from what Griffin has said, you should be fully able to do whatever carving work you need for the Courts here. I am, hmm." She looked upward for a moment, the way so many crafters did when they were mentally calculating a price. Annice was sure that whatever it was, the price would be both fair and too much for her to pay. "The talismans are about two or three days' work and Griffin has already offered to cover that. If you would like to stay in Trellech for as long as that takes me, I am glad to give you a trial. We can see which of my skills you might want to explore. It would let us discuss a next step after that, if that seemed mutually feasible."

"A next step?" Annice swallowed hard. "Magistra, I— I don't have the resources for that."

"For the next few days, you can put yourself to work helping me keep the place tidy. I'll do my bit, but I am an old woman. I haven't had an apprentice in a few years. I ache in bad weather, and someone to lend a hand with the broom and rag and all that would actually be a help. Also, cleaning is more pleasant in company." Her shoulder twitched. "And if we get on, and you're interested, we could discuss further opportunities at that point. I am fairly certain I can teach you enough to be helpful in preparing blanks fairly quickly. That would let us see what else comes easily to your fingers. And perhaps you'll teach me a bit about jet? I've never worked much with it."

Annice had a lump in her throat, and she looked at Griffin, hoping he'd explain or tell her whether this was fair or all right. He was nodding along. "Usual temporary contract, then, Niobe? I have a copy with me."

Niobe started laughing again, the easy laugh she had. "Of course you do. I wouldn't expect otherwise. Usual terms." She focused on Annice. "That means I provide your raw materials, feed you at least one solid meal a day, and trade you labour for training. Additional hours of labour at a fair wage, and practice time doesn't count against your hours. I'd expect three or four hours of labour cleaning most days and then several hours learning and practising. Anything you make that's sellable, you get half the profit from. I keep the costs for the materials and the other half the profit, and yes, Griffin, a full transparent accounting."

Griffin grinned again and spread his hands. "It's the common arrangement in this case, when people are getting to know each other. Fair, and I trust Niobe to be generous with it. Just like I've told her I am certain you'll work hard and be interesting to teach."

"You think too well of me." It came out of Annice's mouth before she could stop it.

Niobe turned around to face her properly. "I think we'll enjoy finding that out, you and I. All right. Griffin, off you go. I'll make sure she gets back to the inn this evening. You go do whatever it is you do."

"May I walk Griffin out?" Annice wanted a word with him, or rather needed a bit of reassurance.

"Certainly. I've got to find another smock and see about setting up a few things for us to start with. The smock I pulled out will be hanging off the tips of your fingers, that's no good. Five minutes, no more. We'll get started, then lunch upstairs. Off with you, Griffin, don't dawdle." Griffin took that as his cue, and he waved a hand, without saying anything further, then set his arms in his crutches. He led the way down the hall, stopping once he got outside.

"You're— is this real?" Annice took a step out onto the pavement behind him. Her heart was beating fast, and she didn't know what to do with what she'd been offered. It was very sudden, and it didn't feel steady under her feet, but she'd seen that workshop, and she wanted to know more. And then there was Griffin, and falling for him wasn't sensible, but seemed to be happening anyway.

"Quite. Niobe is very good indeed, but she's opinionated. She doesn't need to take apprentices any more, and not everyone gets on with her. You, though, I think you'll do well, if you want. And she needs a few days to figure out your pieces." Griffin was watching her attentively now. "Just remember, you also have skills, all right? Let them know at the inn if you want me round for supper, they can get me a message quickly. If you're worn out and just want to fall into bed, that's fine. I understand that too. Won't be offended. Tomorrow, though, we have supper and theatre tickets."

"You, um." Annice hesitated, then took a step forward, as he was standing in front of the chair, his crutches tucked along the back edges. She kissed him tentatively, then his arm came around her, and he kissed her back.

When he pulled back, he sat down with a slight thump before grinning at her. "Made my knees go weak, you did."

She leaned down to kiss his forehead. "That's not, you said, a particular challenge. Maybe I'll work up to other things. And I'll let you know about supper. And look forward to tomorrow."

"Good. There we go. I won't keep you. Have a wonderful time learning new things." At that, he wheeled around, as if he knew lingering would make her late. Annice watched him go. She didn't know how to get herself from where she was now to that place she could see anything beyond her life in Whitby. It was like looking up at the Abbey at the top of the cliff, and not knowing how to manage the stairs. But now, at the very least, she wanted to give it a try.