“So,” he said. “How is your room?”
I patted at the velvet cushion before I sat, relishing the plushness of it under my fingers. “Sumptuous. I swear I’ve never used that word before today, but, wow.”
Carver smiled. “I’m glad you like it.” He cracked his knuckles, unconsciously, it seemed, and I realized for the first time that he wasn’t wearing a black glove. I opened my mouth to remark on it, but Carver picked up right away.
“For the last time, there is no such thing as a – what did you call it again? A Black Hand?”
“Yes. That.”
He scoffed. “There’s never been an organization of that name. Your former mentor used that to deceive you.”
I nodded at his hand. “So what about the glove, then?”
“I thought it looked stylish,” Carver said coldly. He drew his hand back, as if stung, and his lip twitched with just the barest hint of hurt. “Never mind all that. Now, to business. You will receive a salary for the services you will render under my employ, which will not be dissimilar to the work you did for the Lorica.”
“Much appreciated,” I said, unsure of whether I should try to negotiate. We hadn’t discussed numbers, but something about Carver’s accommodations and the nature of his domicile, if it could be called that, told me that he wasn’t a stingy man.
“I understand that you will want to locate your father. I can make no promises, but I will attempt to assist you in divining his whereabouts as well as I can.”
“I – wow. Thank you. And to think that before all this I thought you guys just wanted me dead.”
Carver’s smile shifted into something else, the quirk of his lip wry. “And to think that you tried to destroy me with your bottled lightning.”
Blood rushed to my face, and I wondered if he could see me blush in the strange lighting of his not-office. “Sorry about that. Like I said, I thought you guys were gonna kill me.”
“Water under the bridge,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “In truth I appreciate the quick thinking. I understand those bottles were never meant for combat purposes, eh? Shows you have an ability to improvise.”
Or, truthfully, that I had an ability to panic and throw shit at people when I was scared. But I didn’t say any of that out loud, and just nodded.
“Now,” Carver said, folding his hands together. “Before we proceed. Do you have any questions?” He held up a finger. “Apart from the notion of what you are. That answer will come in time, as we grow to learn more of the Eldest.”
I chewed my lip. I really only had one thing to ask. “What are you?” I said, shortly before realizing how rude that might sound. Too late to take it back.
Carve watched me over the steeples of his fingers for a long, uncomfortable moment. Nothing in the temple made a single sound.
“I am like you, in that I am also endowed with magical ability,” he said slowly. “Call me a sorcerer, if you will. The only difference is that I am older than many you may have met. As I’m sure you’ve come to learn, it is study and time that allows a mage to truly unlock his potential.”
He set his hands across his desk, palms pressed down into the smooth stone. “I have found ways to extend my life beyond the bounds of mortal years. Several times over. I have, in a way, cheated death. Perhaps that is why others are unhappy with me, and consider me some kind of abomination.” He chuckled.
Cheated death. I thought of Thea and how that had been her goal, finding detours around mortality, finding some method, no matter the cost, of bringing her children back. For the briefest moment I found myself sympathizing with my murderer, and for the briefest moment my mind flashed with anger.
“Beyond material gain, beyond my protection, knowledge is what you stand to earn by being under my employ,” Carver continued. “For as long as you work with me, I promise to further your study in the arcane arts, to show you the things your erstwhile mentor never taught you.” He leaned back, raising his nose only the slightest. “I will show you how to control the darkness that lives inside your very bones.”
My mouth was dry. “I would like that very much.”
Slowly, painfully slowly, the smile crept its way back to Carver’s lips. “Then it’s settled. Accept my offer, and you begin your apprenticeship.” He extended one hand, the jewels on his fingers gleaming in the magical firelight. “Dustin Graves. Are you ready to start your life anew?”
I took his hand.
END