A Crucible of Souls (Book One of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence) (47 page)

Chapter Thirty-Four

Caldan spent a good part of the few next days experimenting with his shielding medallion, trying to find out what its limits were. He kept up with his regular lessons and physical training under the watchful eyes of the journeymen and masters, but every spare chance he had he used to investigate the medallion. If he could decipher how it worked, he could make another, and probably better. The engravings on this
crafting
were sloppy, and from his metallurgy studies he knew the metal was inferior, but at the time he had been desperate. It seemed the journeyman who sold it to him had been of lesser talent and skill, probably in need of some quick ducats, perhaps to pay a gambling debt or some such.

Caldan sat at a table in the apprentices’ workshop of the smith-crafting wing. Situated at the far reaches of the Sorcerers’ Guild building because of the smell of the forges and the noise of hammering, most of its rooms opened to the outside through large doors. A few rooms were set farther in, where apprentices, journeymen and masters could work on their designs and theories in relative peace yet still be close to the forges.

The workshop was a good forty paces square with thick beams crossing the ceiling. Unlike the other areas of the building, the floor consisted of hard-packed earth rather than wood or stone. Only a few other apprentices were in the room with Caldan, busy with their own work. Many apprentices quickly abandoned their ideas of
crafting
fine pieces or being the first sorcerer to discover the secret of making
trinkets
, for the more practical materials of stone or fired clay until they had enough ducats to afford expensive materials. Around the room were the other apprentices who had the ducats to experiment or were conducting research given to them by a master, those who were particularly talented.

A furnace lay in the center with a bellows attached. Glowing coals gave the place a warm feel to go with the heat, and a not unpleasant odor of burning coal ash filled the air. Thick-timbered worktables sat scattered against the walls, with one long table reserved for tools, such as files, hammers and chisels, engraving sets, hand drills and polishing liquids.

He held a piece of paper on which he had roughly sketched his medallion and the
crafting
runes engraved on the surface. To the right, he listed the alloy it was made from and underneath, other variations of the alloy he thought would be better suited to the task. The monastery had been advanced in this area; indeed he believed there might be a few things he could teach the masters here, though thinking back to his conversation with Izak and Avigdor he might be better off holding his knowledge close.

Caldan slid his shielding medallion under his sheet of paper to hide it from a casual observer. Opening his well, he touched the medallion with a finger and extended his senses. Touch wasn’t necessary but helped to establish a firmer link and required less concentration. And there was less chance any of the apprentices in the room would feel what he was doing.

Unbalanced. He frowned and split his well into two, one string to examine the metals while the other linked to the runes. Yes, the metal was strained, as if barely holding together; the glyphs did the job adequately but were rough and poorly cast. Tiny pockmarks covered the surface, where a good casting would be smooth. It was barely able to perform the function it had been designed for. And the metal felt wrong for the task; it had probably been something else melted down for the materials to save ducats.

As a shielding medallion, it sufficed; as smith-crafting, it was an abomination. All the parts were there to create a whole: the metal to withstand a well; linking and bridging runes, a basic buffer; but the object was crude. If this was the standard of the journeymen, Caldan felt for the masters and what they had to deal with.

He sighed for the poor workmanship and for his own loss of ducats on such a piece. Still, there wasn’t anything he could do, and at least it worked, if only just. Perhaps he could alter the medallion so it wasn’t as unstable.

He reached across the table and chose a fine scribing tool. In his hands it looked like a knife attached to a wooden handle. He considered the tool for a few moments before placing it back in its leather case. Tampering with the runes cast into the medallion would be a last resort as too much could go wrong. Since it worked as it was, he should first look at the
crafting.

Pushing his awareness into the medallion, he focused on the linkages, the streams which tied the separate parts into a whole. As he suspected, the rough glyphs combined with the flawed metal caused some linkages to be better than others, more ‘open’ and able to carry a greater load. But as all good crafters knew, the links were only as good as the strongest one. Any differences meant the flow from someone’s well would bottleneck, leading to energy bleeding, and that wasn’t good. With such a rough casting, the metal could break under the strain.

Reaching deeper, he connected his well to the linking runes and felt his skin tighten as the shield sprang up and surrounded him. He followed the flow of force through the links, seeing where they flowed properly and where they pooled or were impeded. One in particular stood out. The flow from his well almost stopped when it hit it; only a trickle flowed through. If he could add a link, one to supplement that one… Concentrating hard, he formed another in his mind and joined the two ends around the problem link.

His finger grew hot and he snatched it back. A glow appeared through the paper covering the medallion. It burst into flames.

“
By the ancestors!
”
cursed Caldan and slammed his left hand down on the paper. Skin sizzled.

“
Argggh!
”

He raced to the tempering barrels, plunging his hand into the one filled with water. Behind him, apprentices gasped in surprise then rushed towards his bench. One splashed a bowl of water over the burning paper, which extinguished with a hiss. The room buzzed with commotion.

“
Ancestors, what happened?
”
shouted someone.

“
His paper caught alight,
”
said another apprentice.
“
One moment everything was fine, and the next, flames.
”

Someone grasped Caldan’s shoulder.
“
Are you hurt?
”

He turned to look at the apprentice, hand stinging.
“
I’m fine, just an accident.
”
His thoughts raced. What should he say? He wasn’t supposed to have the medallion. A few apprentices had gathered around the table he was working at. One used a rag to wipe at the wet paper and ashes. At that moment, a journeyman came in, drawn no doubt by the commotion.

Caldan pulled his hand from the water. A red circle scored the skin of his palm. The throbbing had subsided, and his hand felt sore but not overly painful.

“
Excuse me,
”
he said to the apprentice next to him.
“
I’d better see the journeyman.
”

Caldan closed his left hand into a fist to cover the mark. He had no idea what he would say about the medallion, nor what the penalties would be for having such an object in his possession, let alone experimenting on it. Taking a deep breath, he approached his workbench, where the journeyman and a number of apprentices stood.

“
Journeyman, please forgive me. I was…
”

“
So this is your doing?
”
interrupted the journeyman.
“
Reckless experimentation, I assume. And what’s this?
”
He poked a finger into a hole in the table. It went in up to the second knuckle.
“
Unless I miss my guess, there’s metal in there. Melted its way into the wood. What if it had exploded?
”

“
Exploded?
”

“
Yes. Ex-plo-ded. Don’t they teach you anything these days? One thing I know they do teach you is not to try
crafting
anything yourself until a master has looked over the designs and the workmanship before linking it. Did you fall asleep during that lesson?
”

“
What? No, I…
”

“
Make sure you clean this mess up. I don’t know what you can do with the hole in the work bench.
”
He eyed Caldan.
“
You know I have to report this, attempting to construct a
crafting
without supervision.
”

“
I’m sorry. I should have known better.
”
He bowed his head in contrition, though inside he was relieved. Tampering with the medallion had caused it to melt and the paper to burn. He was down a considerable sum of ducats and now had no way to shield himself, but luckily the metal melting had hidden the fact he’d had a working shield
crafting
in his possession.

“
You should have, especially at your age. You need to demonstrate you have better control of yourself.
”

Caldan realized the truth in his words. All the other apprentices were younger than him and thought he was either someone to look up to or an oddity, an older boy who took the same classes they did, and as such far behind them in progress. The journeymen, on the other hand, thought he was far behind them, someone his age who hadn’t yet progressed to their level and who wouldn’t for years yet. He didn’t like his situation, but he vowed to make the best of it.

“
I should have known better,
”
Caldan repeated.

The journeyman only nodded curtly before dismissing the apprentices who had gathered around. They wandered back to their places. Their numbers had swelled since the commotion. A few in other rooms had heard or word had passed around. Caldan saw some engaged in animated talk and hand gestures, probably enjoying a laugh at his expense.

With another dark look at Caldan, the journeyman turned and left, no doubt to report what had happened to the masters. Caldan needed to find out what the penalties were for his transgression.

He wiped the remaining water and ash mess with a rag and poked his finger into the hole in the workbench. It touched metal at the bottom, still warm and smooth. He used a knife to retrieve the chunk. It would be worth a small amount of ducats but nowhere near the cost of the working medallion. With a sigh, he left the apprentices’ workshop, sure that more than a few eyes were on his back as he walked out the door.

Now he knew consequences could be worse than the
crafting
cracking or disintegrating, he would have to be more careful — if he could get his hands on another shield
crafting
.

Obtaining the medallion had been expensive, and he now realized, ill-advised. Entering the Sorcerers’ Guild with its resources and training was a stroke of luck he couldn’t have dreamed of when his ship disembarked. Only a fool would endanger such an opportunity.

Caldan’s thoughts returned to his purse of ducats locked in his room. Not enough for another shield
crafting
, even if he was of a mind to purchase one. Odds were that news of his mistake today would travel like wildfire, and anyone usually willing to sell a
crafting
, even one as badly made as the medallion, wouldn’t want to deal with him lest it was traced back to them. His chances of purchasing one from the journeymen were slim to none.

There was only one solution. He needed to draw on his own talent and construct the
crafting
himself.

An hour later he was back in his room. Materials would be a problem. The runes and design he knew well already, though it would be best if he could obtain a working
crafting
to model his own from.
Not likely,
he thought.

Despite numerous examinations, his store of ducats hadn’t grown since yesterday, and he wasn’t sure if what
he had would cover the cost of materials for the alloy he had in mind.

Someone knocked on his door and he opened it to reveal a solemn looking Master Simmon.

“
What have you gotten yourself into?
”
Simmon asked rhetorically.
“
Come, let’s get this over with.
”