And I don’t have much else, he thought. He’d been given a journal and a handful of quills, when he’d walked into the charms classroom, but ... there was little else that was truly his. He had no money, no toys and games, none of the vast array of possessions that Charlus claimed as his own. The boy threw around more wealth than Gennady had seen in his entire life. It just isn’t fair.
His heart clenched again as his vision blurred. It really wasn’t fair. He’d worked so hard, studied so desperately ... he’d even gone to the library after Lights Out, instead of raiding the kitchens or trying to sneak into the female dorms. He’d worked so hard, yet ... he scowled as he realised, once again, just how lucky Charlus had been. The bastard had had years of training before he’d come into his magic. He’d known what to do with his power before he hit puberty.
Gennady heard the door opening and straightened up, quickly. He didn’t want Charlus —or Simon—to see him crying. And ... it was really too early for Simon to come back, if he was courting Lyndred. Gennady felt a wash of magic crossing the room and knew, with a sick certainty, that Charlus was behind him. It was bad manners to broadcast one’s magical power, he’d been told, but Charlus didn’t give a damn. Gennady turned, slowly. Charlus was in a good mood.
He won, Gennady thought, sourly. That’s unfortunate.
“We won,” Charlus said, echoing Gennady’s thoughts. “We won!”
Gennady bit down a sarcastic remark. It really wasn’t fair that Charlus was almost as good as he thought he was. The games captains would hardly have let him play if he hadn’t been good, no matter what bribes they were offered. They’d be seen as fools who threw victory away. And ... he shook his head. He didn’t care about games. He’d never been able to play at the village, let alone school. No one had wanted him on their side.
“And I’m off to the White City tomorrow,” Charlus added. “In your face, pig-boy!”
“Lucky you,” Gennady managed. Pig-boy? Pig-boy was a step up. Not, he supposed, that it made any difference to Charlus. “I ...”
“I’m going to be working with my father,” Charlus boasted. He started to undress, chattering all the while. “We’re going to be passing laws that tell people what to do.”
He went on and on, bragging about the people he intended to meet and what he intended to do with them. Gennady paid as little attention as possible. He was fairly sure Charlus was talking out his arse, but ... it just wasn’t fair. Charlus would have a chance to meet and impress all the movers and shakers, all the important magicians and mundanes who haunted the White City like flies on shit. He’d have a chance to make himself important ... it was hard to believe, somehow, that Charlus wasn’t that important. The aristocrat could probably get away with murder.
“And where are you going?” Charlus didn’t sound interested. “Dung-gathering? Or ...”
The door opened. Simon stepped into the room. “And where were you?” Charlus switched subjects at the drop of a hat. “Out with that ugly girl?”
Simon glared. “She’s not ugly,” he snapped.
“She does have nice legs,” Charlus said, with the air of one making a great concession. “And her tits are pretty big. But her face, a disgrace ...”
Gennady felt his cheeks burn, his fists clenching helplessly as Charlus went on and on. Lyndred was pretty. He wanted to defend her, but ... there was nothing he could do to defend her. Nothing at all, not when Charlus could simply brush his most powerful spells aside. Or stop him in his tracks, if he tried to hit the bully.
“She’d shame the backside of a cow,” Charlus continued. “Really.”
Gennady turned away. Dragon’s Den wasn’t much, but it did have one great advantage that made up for almost everything else. He clung to the thought, grimly, as he packed his possessions and clambered into bed. It wasn’t much, but it was all he had.
Charlus would be a very long way away.
Chapter 9
Gennady would have enjoyed working for Master Antony a little more, he supposed, if the man hadn’t seen him as little more than a slave.
The apothecary itself was a fascinating place. It was a larger store than most of the others in the town, with a large chamber open to the public and two storerooms crammed with potions supplies and rare elements from all over the continent. Gennady had worked with all sorts of ingredients in alchemy classes, but he’d never seen so many—some borderline legal—gathered in one place before. And there was a giant pile of books and scrolls, ranging from outdated textbooks to tomes written in languages no one could read. It was the sort of place, he supposed, where he might have been happy.
But its master was a harsh man, so harsh he’d driven away the other shop boys. Gennady had been confronted by a pair of shop boys, when he’d returned to Dragon’s Den, but their objections—which he only half-understood—had melted away when he’d told them who he was going to be working for. Master Antony was so strict that Gennady found it impossible to keep up with his demands, from sweeping the shop every morning and evening to cutting up and preparing a whole string of dangerous ingredients. There was no time to brew anything for himself, let alone continue his studies. The only upside, as far as he could tell, was that he was saving a little money. He simply didn’t have time to spend it.
“Boy!” Master Antony handled the customers, rather than leaving it to his shop-boy. “Fetch me the powdered rhinoceros horn!”
“Yes, Master,” Gennady said, tiredly. Master Antony got cranky every time Gennady failed to show the proper respect. Gennady wasn’t ignorant enough to believe Master Antony really was at the top of his field, despite his claims, but he was a big man in the town. “I’ll bring it for you right away.”
He hurried into the backroom and searched the shelves for the powdered rhinoceros horn. His lips quirked as he found the jar—there weren’t many uses for powdered rhinoceros horn, only one of which was really practical—and carried back to his master. A middle-aged woman with a smile that didn’t quite touch her eyes was standing in front of the counter, resting her arms on the wood. Gennady recognised her from his previous stay in the town. She ran the local brothel, taking care of the girls and protecting them from all comers. Gennady had never dared visit. There’d been too great a chance of running into Charlus or one of his cronies.
But I could go now, he thought. He felt a twinge of uncertainty. He was saving himself for Primrose, wasn’t he? I could go and ...
“Give it here.” Master Antony took the jar from him and started to pour it into the scales. “Fetch me the crimson brew while you’re at it.”
“Yes, Master.” Gennady resisted the urge to point out that Master Antony could have called for both ingredients at the same time. His tutors hadn’t been too concerned about students overburdening themselves with heavy jars. “I’ll fetch it right away.”