The Fire Mages

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at the five of us standing in line, uttering such a loud “Ha!” that Hestanora jumped. The two Masters exchanged glances.
    “Cal, I thought you had already made your arrangements?” one of them said, in tones of resignation. They were irritated, but he outranked them, so they couldn’t complain.
    The mage glared at them. “Didn’t work out. So what do we have here?”
    He paced up and down, examining each of us and responding in ways that were bizarre and frankly a little frightening. He leered at one boy so closely that their noses almost touched, cackled with laughter at another, stared at my breasts and pulled Hestanora’s hair. To one boy he said, “Too ugly. Go away.” To another, he simply shook his head and waved him away. They both scuttled off to join the rest of the cohort at the back of the room. That left the boy who would pay a fifth of his earnings, Hestanora and me.
    “Names,” he said with an airy wave of one arm.
    “Teshion abre Lestor endor Ardamurkan.”
    “Hestanora abra Teynia fen Gurshmonta.”
    “Kyra abra Dayna endor Durmaston.”
    “Well, well, well. A town boy, the daughter of a fancy family and a village rat. An interesting mixture. So, each of you, give me one reason why I should take you on.”
    One reason. It didn’t seem like much to ask, but what could I offer that would entice a mage? My mind was blank. I could see my future slipping away from me.
    The mage strode up and down the room, swishing past the three of us, back and forth, back and forth, like a crazed fly.
    The boy began his speech again, and it was word for word the same. Well-rehearsed. Clever of him, for he seemed very composed under pressure, unlike me. But he had barely got beyond his test results when the mage flapped a hand at him.
    “Enough! That’s more than one reason. I don’t want a pupil who can’t even count to one. Begone. Next.” He glared at Hestanora.
    She licked her lips. Even without looking at her, I could see her trembling. She began two or three times, stammering and tripping over the words. Then in a rush she burst out, “I’m related to all the nobility, and I’ll warm your bed.”
    It was two reasons, not one, but he didn’t comment on that. Instead, he simply laughed in her face. She turned her head away from him, and I thought I saw a tear trickling down her cheek. I had no time to feel any pity for her, though, for my turn was next, and I wasn’t terrified any longer. Anger bubbled up inside me. How dare this arrogant man treat us so rudely? Mages were the pinnacle of scribing, supposed to be examples of ability and wisdom, advisors to the rulers, no less. Yet this man behaved appallingly. He expected us to grovel and plead for his favour, yet he couldn’t manage a shred of courtesy. How could he teach us anything worth knowing when he displayed so little respect? And how could we respect him? I would rather go back to my village than make deals with such a person. I determined to offer him nothing except my own talents.
    So when the mage leered at me and signed for me to begin, I straightened my back, breathed deeply and willed myself to calmness.
    “I am the best in my year,” I said. I looked him straight in the eye as I spoke, and saw surprise there. For the first time, he stopped moving, staring right back at me, and he seemed less crazy. His eyes were a vivid blue, seeming to drill right into my head. I refused to look away.
    “That’s it? You’re the best? Who says so?”
    “My test results say so. All the Masters say so. The rest of my year say so.”
    “And you think this is enough of a reason?”
    “It’s the only reason that matters.”
    He laughed then. “But what other inducements will you offer? Will you shine my boots? Cook my food? Warm my bed?”
    “I will study diligently. I will learn from your experience. My talents will reflect well on your teaching.”
    “No other reward for me?”
    “Teaching an apt and eager pupil is reward enough.”
    He

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