Master Philemon’s reply was immediate. “Yes, you’re right when I expected, as always. Come in, close the door if you would.” Farran did so, unsure how to take that request at the moment. The door being closed could mean some private item to be discussed, or it could be something he’d done wrong.
Not that there had been many of those in the last year, but the memory of his first apprenticeship kept lurking unreasonably fiercely. In other offices in other buildings, there might have been an offer of tea. Here, all that sort of thing was kept to the lounge down the hall, far away from any art, artefacts, books, papers, or whatever else the auction house might be dealing with at the moment.
“Oh, don’t be alarmed. This is the same conversation I’ve had recently with the others. You started a bit behind them. That is why you’re last on the list, but you’ve more than made up enough time to make it worth talking about now.” Master Philemon gestured at the chair, and Farran sank into it. “No need to take notes, just chat. If there are lists and such, we’ll do that together.”
“Sir.” Farran sank into the chair— a remarkably comfortable one, given the formal style— and then folded his hands in his lap before looking up. “Amrut had mentioned you’d talked, and then Percy and Nathan.”
“Just so.” Master Philemon leaned forward, then he said more gently. “This still makes you nervous.”
“Yes, sir.” There was no use lying about it. For one thing, this was Master Philemon, who had been nothing but kind to Farran, explaining all the intricacies of an auction house’s many tasks. And for another, any of the senior masters were highly skilled at reading an expression as they could identify a work of art, the maker, and whatever repairs needed investigating. “Beg pardon.”
“Ah, it’s not your fault, is it?” Master Philemon shook his head. “Let me say, then, before anything else, that we, all the senior masters, are pleased with your work. We are considering several options for your future, but none of them are quite at fruition yet. So this, today, is both to ask what you might prefer, and to suggest an assignment that would be interesting but which has some logistical complications.”
“Not a remote castle in Scotland, sir?” Farran asked. He’d done that last year, with several of the others. The castle had not been terribly well maintained. He’d kept wanting to spend all his spare time fixing the leaks and the draughts and the uneven wood railings and stairs. It had been unduly distracting.
Master Philemon laughed, wriggling his hand. “Not Scotland, no. London. The trick is that it would require some work on any given day of the week. And I know you like to get back to Thebes on Friday evening.”
Thebes was his family home. His and Uncle Cadmus’s, Lena’s, and these days Vivian’s. But technically, formally, now Farran was of age, it was all his. That meant they’d had money to repair a number of things and put in a lift and get Lena several new lovely devices for the kitchen. They still ran it as an intellectual sort of boarding house, given the proximity to Oxford. They were a modest walk to the train station, just two stops to the centre, and a little further from a portal. Farran considered what to say. He took a breath; Master Philemon had taught him that, too. “I’d be glad to hear you out, sir, about what would be involved.”
“Two or three months. Four at the outside, by which I mean if more than four are needed, we’ll bring someone else in to assist, and you’ll get a proper leave. It would give you additional experience and connections with several of the London auction houses. There’s an estate in process. Your role would be tocoordinate with each of the houses taking on parts of the sale, and determining if a piece needed additional handling.”
“By which we mean letting someone from the Ministry come round, and make sure it will not cause trouble, magically speaking,” Farran said. He could see why they were thinking of him for this. It would get him more experience, yes, but that particular itch was something he was truly good at. He’d notice if some coin or snuffbox or hairbrush or what have you was magical.
“Exactly. They’re about halfway through the initial catalogue work now, so you’d start with what they’ve already done, and then look at new items as they come through the processing. A fair bit of back and forth in London, visits to specialists as needed, all that. Everyone would understand that you are my eyes and hands in the matter.” That, now, was a particular mark of trust. The phrase had not yet been formally applied to Farran. He couldn’t quite repress a smile and looked up to see Master Philemon beaming back. “Just so. Now, your questions.”
Farran certainly had questions. “I assume it’s a large estate collection, sir? Varied in period, material, source, all of that?”
“Just so. One of those widely travelled families that has brought back many things. We know there’s at least one mummy and trappings. That’s already been looked at. But items from China, Japan, India, Egypt, who knows where else. Or rather, the cataloguers know.”
Farran snorted at that. “And my resources, sir?”
“We’ll put you up, if you agree, in a serviced flat. There’s a small building that caters to magical folk, just off the Bedford Square portal. The usual arrangement is that she provides breakfast, and there’s a stipend for lunch and supper, though she can also provide them for a small fee. Meals taken while working are on expenses, of course, not the stipend.” MasterPhilemon added, “I know your personal situation is more comfortable than it was, but we believe in certain standards.”
“No, that’s quite sensible, sir. And to have the same for everyone.” Farran considered. “My working space?” He certainly couldn’t take priceless artefacts back to his rooms. For one thing, many of them were delicate, and a number of the rest were far too heavy to lift.
“We’ve arranged an office in King Street. Convenient enough to Spink’s and Christie’s, and not too far from the others.” Master Philemon tapped his fingers on the desk, as if reminding himself of key points. “And of course we’ll cover cab fare for necessary appointments when the Tube isn’t suitable.”
Farran nodded at that. He had not been to London often, but all the current apprentices had spent enough time there to become comfortable with a non-magical city and how to get around. “Thank you, sir. And my time is my own outside the work? Allowing, as you said, for appointments, or museum or gallery visits, to see similar items and all that?” It could be quite a pleasant interlude, actually, especially if the weather was at all agreeable. It was January, going into February, but if he were there for three months, it would be well into spring.
“Exactly. Mind, we know all of you flock to whatever museum or library is closest. We picked you for that reason.” Master Philemon shrugged. “How about you take a day to consider it, or two, if you’d like to talk to your family?” Master Philemon hesitated. “I gather there isn’t anyone in Trellech, at the moment.”
Farran had had an extremely civilised parting six months ago. Lucinda was lovely, but they had decidedly different ideas of how to spend their spare time. He’d tried to do what she liked best, but he’d pine for Thebes, and she hated it out there. Or not hated, but she felt stifled and isolated in a way that had baffled Farran.
His friend Tony had tried to match him up with half a dozen young women, including Lucinda. He’d likely make another go of it in the near future, Tony considered it his duty, as a more outgoing sort than Farran was by nature. All of the women had been clever and interesting, pleasant to look at and be around. He’d not felt a spark worth pursuing with any. So now, he just shook his head. “Not at the moment, sir. Perhaps I might meet someone new in London.”
“As you like.” Master Philemon nodded. “Right. You can take the prospectus away with you and have a good look. Obviously, we don’t expect you to be an expert on all of it. A few things are entirely within your scope. Your role with the others is to figure out what needs consultation and the general idea of who, or what skills. Questions are always welcome. You’ll have your journal, so we needn’t wait for the post.”
“Sir.” Farran nodded. “I would like to go out to Thebes tonight, if that’s not a bother.”
“You’re caught up on all your current work.” It wasn’t a question. Of course Master Philemon knew that. “Take tomorrow, bring your reading with you, and we’ll expect your answer one way or the other on Monday. Or sooner, by journal, if you know it.”
“I appreciate the time, sir.” Farran didn’t quite stand, but he wasn’t sure how to ask the other question he had.
Master Philemon looked at him steadily. “You’re wondering about what comes after this.”
“Sir.” Farran couldn’t help looking down. He knew that this particular lack of confidence was entirely foolish, but he still felt the sting of it.
“We are discussing options for keeping you as a journeyman here. We may have additional ideas for you; there are at least two businesses who have inquired if you might seek outside employment in due course. Or if you wished to establishyourself as an independent consultant, of course, we could assist in that. You have choices, young man, or will. A bit more seasoning will help with the range of your skills. The same with building up your own connections, distinct from mine. But do not fret over having a future. The question is which future you wish to reach for.”
