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.
