Imager

50

The rest of the week went somewhat better, although I had to decline going out with Martyl and Dartazn on Samedi because I was still restricted to Imagisle. That night and again on Solayi, I spent the time with my thoughts and the anatomy section of the science text, trying to come up with another silent and deadly technique for stopping an attacker. That was difficult because, at times, I could still see in my thoughts the woman I’d executed.

In midafternoon on Solayi, I walked to the north end of Imagisle, past the workshops and the park, and then past the cottages and dwellings. There were more than a few dwellings that looked to be spacious and gracious. I supposed those were for the masters with families. I sat on a shaded bench overlooking the river for a time. Even in late summer under a clear sky, the water was gray.

That night, of course, I went to services, and one section of Chorister Isola’s homily on Solayi did remain with me, when she was speaking of luck and fortune.

“. . . Good fortune can fall upon the evil, and evil upon the good. Chance and time befall us all. Do not rail against such, for such vain protests can only make matters worse and you less able. Do not grant the Namer more power over you by giving names to your misfortunes or declaring your fortune as if it were a named quality that is an integral part of you . . .”

Her words made me think about Rousel. Had I named luck and charm as part of who he was? But were those really part of him, or my appellations, offered out of envy?

Then, when I left the service, as I saw the wives and children of the older married imagers also departing with their husbands, I was reminded that the Collegium was indeed a city within a city, and I actually saw Master Dichartyn with an angular brunette and two daughters. I couldn’t help wondering about what he saw in her until I saw her smile at him, and his smile in return. I was glad he didn’t see me studying them.

Lundi was like all the weekdays, beginning with a hurried breakfast and a rush to the duty carriage. The morning was long, because I had been tasked with writing a fair copy of the inventory we had done the week before. The good part was that lunch was a good ragout with dark bread, and the three of us had a chance to talk before they returned to the Council Chateau.

Once more I had to hurry to get ready for Clovyl, although I had come to enjoy those afternoon sessions and learning skills that were largely physical in nature and technique. I couldn’t help but think that, had I known what he had taught me when I’d been at grammaire, my years there would have been far less painful.

Lundi evening I met with Master Dichartyn, and he actually agreed with my “new” technique-imaging aleyan into the back of the eye-but he pointed out that it was not new, and that pitricine would work as well, although aleyan was harder to detect. After that, it was actually enjoyable to learn about various delaying or disabling tricks, many of which were so obvious after being told, but not something that I would necessarily have thought of without prompting, things like imaging oil and wax onto a step or pavement under a boot or shoe, or tar, for a slowing effect on someone running. I particularly liked the powdered chilis in the nose.

When we had finished with that, he fingered his chin, and I knew something was coming.

“Now that you are about to become a true working imager, I need to repeat some things. There are other unwritten but very real rules for imager counterspies. I am certain that Master Jhulian has intimated what they are, but I will lay them out directly. First, except in cases of publicly witnessed self-defense, anyone you kill or otherwise dispose of must appear to have died through an accident or in some fashion that cannot be said to be murder. Second, such removals must always take place when you are unobserved and someone else is present to honestly testify that no one else was present. Third, you will report every such incident, and failure to do so could result in severe consequences. Fourth, you tell no one but me or the head maitre of the Collegium what you have done in accomplishing those duties, and such reports are to be only verbal. You are never to write down anywhere the actions you have taken or the charges that you have been given. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I have some reading material for you.” He smiled wryly. “It’s not text. It has to do with one of your assignments.”

“Don’t I already have my assignment, sir?”

“You do, but we all have multiple assignments. The Council generally only meets some ten glasses a week, usually from ninth glass until second or third glass of the afternoon. In the later afternoon, not all of you are required. Everyone has some additional assignments, and at times when the Council goes out of session early, Baratyn will decide who will remain at the Chateau and who will be released to work on the assignments I’ve given.” He handed me several sheets of paper.

I glanced at them, then looked again. The first was the civic patroller report on the death of Master Caliostrus, and it contained the names and addresses of all of Caliostrus’s relatives in L’Excelsis. The second was a sheet listing information on Johanyr, and the third dealt with Diazt.

“Someone was hired to kill you. Your assignment is to see if you can discover who hired that assassin. Once you have evidence of that, you will report to me before acting against that person. If you encounter other assassins, you can dispose of them, provided you do so either quietly or in a well-witnessed instance of self-defense. The most likely suspects are relatives of the late Master Caliostrus, but Diazt also had friends from the hellhole who engage in such matters as removing enemies. I would suggest not visiting there, because there would either be a great number of dead taudismen or we’d have to find and train another imager to replace you.”

I hadn’t thought of visiting the hellhole, or any of the taudis. “Does this mean I’m no longer restricted to Imagisle?”

“As of tomorrow, you’re not. You certainly have the skills to defend yourself, but what you still lack is an awareness of everything around you. That is something you will need to practice all the time until it becomes as natural to you as breathing, until you know all that may impact you without ever having to think about it. Only time and practice will grant you that.” He smiled sadly. “Please be cautious. As I told you months ago, there are no bold old imagers.”

Now that I was finally free to leave . . . none of the people I really wanted to see, except Khethila, were presently in L’Excelsis, and it didn’t make sense to see her until the weekend, because there really wasn’t enough time to take a hack out and back during the week.

“And one other thing-on Samedi morning, at the eighth glass, Maitre Poincaryt will be at your new studio so that you can start his portrait.” Master Dichartyn smiled. “This is an example of being careful in what you ask for, Rhennthyl. If you get it, you have to deal with the consequences.”

That meant more work to squeeze in somewhere, because the studio wasn’t set up for me to actually start painting. Still . . . I did look forward to it. “It will be a good portrait, sir, but it may take a little longer with the press of carrying out other assignments.”

“Master Poincaryt understands that all too well.” Master Dichartyn stood. “Go get some sleep. You’ll need it.”

“Yes, sir.” I nodded. Would I find sleep that easily after all that had happened, and the additional assignment that I’d just been given?