CHAPTER ELEVEN

Haven

I RETURNED TO THE UNIVERSITY in good spirits despite the burden of my new debt. I made a few purchases, gathered up my lute, and headed out over the rooftops.

From the inside, Mains was a nightmare to navigate: a maze of irrational hallways and stairways leading nowhere. But moving across its jumbled rooftops was easy as anything. I made my way to a small courtyard that at some point in the building’s construction had become completely inaccessible, trapped like a fly in amber.

Auri wasn’t expecting me, but this was the first place I’d met her, and on clear nights she sometimes came out to watch the stars. I checked to make sure the classrooms overlooking the courtyard were dark and empty, then I brought out my lute and began to tune it.

I had been playing for almost an hour when I heard a rustling movement in the overgrown courtyard below. Then Auri appeared, scurrying up the overgrown apple tree and onto the roof.

She ran toward me, her bare feet skipping lightly across the tar, her hair blowing behind her. “I heard you!” she said as she came close. “I heard you all the way down in Vaults!”

“I seem to remember,” I said slowly, “that I was going to play music for someone.”

“Me!” She held both her hands close to her chest, grinning. She moved from foot to foot, almost dancing with her eagerness. “Play for me! I have been as patient as two stones together,” she said. “You are just in time. I could not be as patient as three stones.”

“Well,” I said hesitantly. “I suppose it all depends on what you’ve brought me.”

She laughed, rising up onto the balls of her feet, her hands still together, close to her chest. “What did you bring me ?”

I knelt and began to untie my bundle. “I’ve brought you three things,” I said.

“How traditional,” she said, grinning. “You are quite the proper young gentleman tonight.”

“I am.” I held up a heavy dark bottle.

She took it with both hands. “Who made it?”

“Bees,” I said. “And brewers in Bredon.”

Auri smiled. “That’s three bees,” she said, and set the bottle down by her feet. I brought out a round loaf of fresh barley bread. She reached out and touched it with a finger, then nodded approvingly.

Last I brought out a whole smoked salmon. It had cost four drabs by itself, but I worried Auri didn’t get enough meat in whatever she managed to scrounge up when I wasn’t around. It would be good for her.

Auri looked down at it curiously, tilting her head to look into its single staring eye. “Hello fish,” she said. Then she looked back up at me. “Does it have a secret?”

I nodded. “It has a harp instead of a heart.”

She looked back down at it. “No wonder it looks so surprised.”

Auri took the fish out of my hands and laid it carefully on the roof. “Now stand up. I have three things for you, as is only fair.”

I came to my feet and she held out something wrapped in a piece of cloth. It was a thick candle that smelled of lavender. “What’s inside of it?” I asked.

“Happy dreams,” she said. “I put them there for you.”

I turned the candle over in my hands, a suspicion forming. “Did you make this yourself?”

She nodded and gave a delighted grin. “I did. I am terribly clever.”

I tucked it carefully into one of the pockets of my cloak. “Thank you, Auri.”

Auri grew serious. “Now close your eyes and bend down so I can give you your second present.”

Puzzled, I closed my eyes and bent at the waist, wondering if she had made me a hat as well.

I felt her hands on either side of my face, then she gave me a tiny, delicate kiss in the middle of my forehead.

Surprised, I opened my eyes. But she was already standing several steps away, her hands clasped nervously behind her back. I couldn’t think of anything to say.

Auri took a step forward. “You are special to me,” she said seriously, her face grave. “I want you to know I will always take care of you.” She reached out tentatively and wiped at my cheeks. “No. None of that tonight. This is your third present. If things are bad, you can come and stay with me in the Underthing. It is nice there, and you will be safe.”

“Thank you, Auri,” I said as soon as I was able. “You are special to me, too.”

“Of course I am,” she said matter-of-factly. “I am as lovely as the moon.”

I collected myself while Auri skipped over to a piece of metal piping that jutted from a chimney and used it to pry the cap off the bottle. Then she brought it back, holding it carefully with both hands.

“Auri,” I asked. “Aren’t your feet cold?”

She looked down at them. “The tar is nice,” she said, wriggling her toes. “It’s still warm from the sun.”

“Would you like a pair of shoes?”

“What would they have in them?” she asked.

“Your feet,” I said. “It’s going to be winter soon.”

She shrugged.

“Your feet will be cold.”

“I don’t come out on top of things in the winter,” she said. “It isn’t very nice.”

Before I could respond, Elodin stepped around a large brick chimney as casually as if he were out for an afternoon stroll.

The three of us stared at each other for a moment, each of us startled in our own way. Elodin and I were surprised, but out of the corner of my eye I saw Auri grow perfectly still, like a deer ready to spring away to safety.

“Master Elodin,” I said in my gentlest, friendliest tones, desperately hoping he wouldn’t do anything that might startle Auri into running. The last time she’d been scared back underground it had taken her a full span to re-emerge. “How nice to meet you.”

“Hello there,” Elodin said, matching my casual tone perfectly, as if there was nothing odd about the three of us meeting on a rooftop in the middle of the night. Though for all I knew, it might not seem odd to him.

“Master Elodin.” Auri dipped one bare foot behind the other and tugged the edges of her ragged dress in a tiny curtsey.

Elodin remained in the moon-cast shadow of the tall brick chimney. He made a curiously formal bow in return. I couldn’t see his face in any detail, but I could imagine his curious eyes examining the barefoot, waifish girl with the nimbus of floating hair. “And what brings the two of you out this fine night?” Elodin asked.

I tensed. Questions were dangerous with Auri.

Luckily, this one didn’t seem to bother her. “Kvothe has brought me lovely things,” she said. “He brought me bee beer and barley bread and a smoked fish with a harp where its heart should be.”

“Ah,” Elodin said, stepping away from the chimney. He patted his robes until he found something in a pocket. He held it out to her. “I’m afraid I’ve only brought you a cinnas fruit.”

Auri took a tiny, dancer’s step backward and made no motion to take it. “Have you brought anything for Kvothe?”

This seemed to catch Elodin off his stride. He stood awkwardly for a moment, arm outstretched. “I’m afraid I haven’t,” he said. “But I don’t imagine Kvothe has brought anything for me, either.”

Auri’s eyes narrowed, and she gave a tiny frown, fierce with disapproval. “Kvothe has brought music,” she said sternly, “which is for everyone.”

Elodin paused again, and I have to admit I enjoyed seeing him discomfited by someone else’s behavior for once. He turned and made a half bow in my direction. “My apologies,” he said.

I made a gracious gesture. “Think nothing of it.”

Elodin turned back to Auri and held out his hand a second time.

She took two small steps forward, hesitated, then took two more. She reached out slowly, paused with her hand on the small fruit, then took several scurrying steps away, bringing both hands close to her chest. “Thank you kindly,” she said, making another small curtsey. “Now, you may join us if you like. And if you behave, you may stay and listen to Kvothe play afterward.” She tilted her head a bit, making it a question.

Elodin hesitated, then nodded.

Auri scampered around to the other side of the roof, then down into the courtyard through the bare limbs of the apple tree.

Elodin watched her go. When he tilted his head there was just enough moonlight that I could see a thoughtful expression on his face. I felt a sudden, sharp anxiety tie knots in my stomach. “Master Elodin?”

He turned to face me. “Hmm?”

I knew from experience it would only take her three or four minutes to fetch whatever she was bringing up from the Underthing. I needed to talk fast.

“I know this looks strange,” I said. “But you have to be careful. She’s very nervous. Don’t try to touch her. Don’t make any sudden movements. It will scare her away.”

Elodin expression was hidden in shadow again. “Will it now?” he said.

“Loud noises too. Even a loud laugh. And you can’t ask her anything resembling a personal question. She’ll just run if you do.” I drew a deep breath, my mind racing. I have a good tongue in my head, and given enough time I’m confident in my ability to persuade just about anyone of anything. But Elodin was simply too unpredictable to manipulate.

“You can’t tell anyone she’s here.” It came out more forcefully than I’d intended, and I immediately regretted my choice of words. I was in no position to be giving orders to one of the masters, even if he was more than half mad. “What I mean,” I said quickly, “is that I would take it as a great personal favor if you didn’t mention her to anyone.”

Elodin gave me a long, speculative look. “And why is that, Re’lar Kvothe?”

I felt myself break out in a sweat at the cool amusement in his tone. “They’ll stick her in Haven,” I said. “You of all people ...” I trailed off, my throat growing dry.

Elodin stared down at me, his face little more than a shadow, but I could sense him scowling. “Of all people I what, Re’lar Kvothe? Do you presume to know my feelings toward Haven?”

I felt all my elegant, half-planned persuasion fall to tatters around my feet. And I suddenly felt like I was back on the streets of Tarbean, my stomach a hard knot of hunger, my chest full of desperate hopelessness as I clutched at the sleeves of sailors and merchants, begging for pennies, halfpennies, shims. Begging for anything so I could get something to eat.

“Please,” I said to him. “Please, Master Elodin, if they chase her she’ll hide, and I won’t be able to find her. She isn’t quite right in the head, but she’s happy here. And I can take care of her. Not much, but a little. If they catch her that would be even worse. Haven would kill her. Please Master Elodin, I’ll do whatever you like. Just don’t tell anyone.”

“Hush,” Elodin said. “She’s coming.” He reached out to grip my shoulder, and moonlight fell across his face. His expression wasn’t fierce and hard at all. There was nothing but puzzlement and concern. “Lord and lady, you’re shaking. Take a breath and put your stage face on. You’ll scare her if she sees you like this.”

I took a deep breath and fought to relax. Elodin’s concerned expression faded and he stepped back, letting go of my shoulder.

I turned in time to see Auri scurry across the roof toward us, her arms full. She stopped a short distance away, eyeing us both, before coming the rest of the way, stepping carefully as a dancer until she was back where she originally stood. Then she sat down lightly on the roof, crossing her legs beneath herself. Elodin and I sat as well, though not nearly as gracefully.

Auri unfolded a cloth, lay it carefully between the three of us, then set a large, smooth wooden platter in the middle. She brought out the cinnas fruit and sniffed it, her eyes peering over the top of it. “What is in this?” she asked Elodin.

“Sunshine,” he said easily, as if he’d expected the question. “And early morning sunshine at that.”

They knew each other. Of course. That was why she hadn’t run away at the outset. I felt the solid bar of tension between my shoulder blades ease slightly.

Auri sniffed the fruit again and looked thoughtful for a moment. “It is lovely,” she declared. “But Kvothe’s things are lovelier still.”

“That stands to reason,” Elodin said. “I expect Kvothe is a nicer person than I am.”

“That goes without saying,” Auri said primly.

Auri served up dinner, sharing out the bread and fish to each of us. She also produced a squat clay jar of brined olives. It made me glad to see she could provide for herself when I wasn’t around.

Auri poured beer into my familiar porcelain teacup. Elodin got a small glass jar of the sort you would use to store jam. She filled his cup for the first round but not the second. I was left wondering if he was simply out of easy reach, or if it was a subtle sign of her displeasure.

We ate without speaking. Auri delicately, taking tiny bites, her back straight. Elodin cautiously, occasionally darting a glance at me as if he were unsure how to behave. I guessed from this that he’d never shared a meal with Auri before.

When we were finished with everything else, Auri brought out a small, bright knife and divided the cinnas fruit into three parts. As soon as she broke the skin of it, I could smell it on the air, sweet and sharp. It made my mouth water. Cinnas fruit came from a long way off and was simply too expensive for people like me.

She held out my piece and I took it from her gently. “Thank you kindly, Auri.”

“You are welcome kindly, Kvothe.”

Elodin looked back and forth between the two of us. “Auri?”

I waited for him to finish his question, but that seemed to be all of it.

Auri understood before I did. “It’s my name,” she said, grinning proudly.

“Is it now?” Elodin said curiously.

Auri nodded. “Kvothe gave it to me.” She beamed in my direction. “Isn’t it marvelous?”

Elodin nodded. “It is a lovely name,” he said politely. “And it suits you.”

“It does,” she agreed. “It is like having a flower in my heart.” She gave Elodin a serious look. “If your name is getting too heavy, you should have Kvothe give you a new one.”

Elodin nodded again and took a bite of his cinnas. As he chewed, he turned to look at me. By the light of the moon, I saw his eyes. They were cool, thoughtful, and perfectly, utterly sane.

* * *

After we finished our dinner, I sang a few songs, and we said our good-byes. Elodin and I walked away together. I knew at least a half-dozen ways to climb down from the roof of Mains, but I let him take the lead.

We made our way past a round stone observatory that stuck up from the roof and moved onto a long stretch of reasonably flat lead sheeting.

“How long have you been coming to see her?” Elodin asked.

I thought about it. “Half a year? It depends on when you start counting. It took a couple span of playing before I caught a glimpse of her, more before she trusted me enough to talk.”

“You’ve had better luck than I have,” he said. “It’s been years. This is the first time she’s come within ten paces of me. We barely speak a dozen words on a good day.”

We climbed over a wide, low chimney and back onto a gentle slope of thick timber sealed with layers of tar. As we walked I grew more anxious. Why had he been trying to get close to her?

I thought about the time I had gone to Haven with Elodin to visit his giller, Alder Whin. I thought about Auri there. Tiny Auri, strapped to a bed with thick leather belts so she couldn’t hurt herself or thrash around while she was being fed.

I stopped walking. Elodin took a few more steps before turning to look at me.

“She’s my friend,” I said slowly.

He nodded. “That much is obvious.”

“And I don’t have enough friends that I could bear to lose one,” I said. “Not her. Promise me you won’t tell anyone about her or bundle her off to Haven. It’s not the right place for her.” I swallowed against the dryness in my throat. “I need you to promise me.”

Elodin tilted his head to one side. “I’m hearing an or else ,” he said, amusement in his voice. “Even though you’re not actually saying it. I need to promise you or else . . . .” One corner of his mouth quirked up in a wry little smile.

When he smiled, I felt a flash of anger mingled with anxiety and fear. It was followed by the sudden, hot taste of plum and nutmeg in my mouth, and I became very conscious of the knife I had strapped to my thigh underneath my pants. I felt my hand slowly sliding into my pocket.

Then I saw the edge of the roof a half-dozen feet behind Elodin, and I felt my feet shift slightly, getting ready to sprint and tackle him, bearing us both off the roof and down to the hard cobblestones below.

I felt a sudden, cold sweat sweep over my body and closed my eyes. I took a deep, slow breath and the taste in my mouth faded.

I opened my eyes again. “I need you to promise me,” I said. “Or else I’ll probably do something stupid beyond all mortal ken.” I swallowed. “And both of us will end up the worse for it.”

Elodin looked at me. “What a remarkably honest threat,” he said. “Normally they’re much more growlish and gristly than that.”

“Gristly?” I asked, emphasizing the ‘t.’ “Don’t you mean grisly?”

“Both,” he said. “Usually there’s a lot of, I’ll break your knees. I’ll break your neck. ” He shrugged. “Makes me think of gristle, like when you’re boning a chicken.”

“Ah,” I said. “I see.”

We stared at each other for a moment.

“I’m not going to send anyone to take her in,” he said at last. “Haven is the proper place for some folk. It’s the only place for a lot of them. But I wouldn’t wish a mad dog locked there if there were a better option.”

He turned and started to walk away. When I didn’t follow, he turned to look back at me.

“That’s not good enough,” I said. “I need you to promise.”

“I swear on my mother’s milk,” Elodin said. “I swear on my name and my power. I swear it by the ever-moving moon.”

We started walking again.

“She needs warmer clothes,” I said. “And socks and shoes. And a blanket. And they need to be new. Auri won’t take anything that’s been worn by anyone else. I’ve tried.”

“She won’t take them from me,” Elodin said. “I’ve left things out for her. She won’t touch them.” He turned to look at me. “If I give them to you, will you pass them along?”

I nodded. “In that case she also needs about twenty talents, a ruby the size of an egg, and a new set of engraving tools.”

Elodin gave an honest, earthy chuckle. “Does she also need lute strings?”

I nodded. “Two pair, if you can get them.”

“Why Auri?” Elodin asked.

“Because she doesn’t have anyone else,” I said. “And neither do I. If we don’t look out for each other, who will?”

He shook his head. “No. Why did you pick that name for her?”

“Ah,” I said, embarrassed. “Because she’s so bright and sweet. She doesn’t have any reason to be, but she is. Auri means sunny.”

“In what language?” he asked.

I hesitated. “Siaru, I think.”

Elodin shook his head. “Sunny is leviriet in Siaru.”

I tried to think where I’d learned the word. Had I stumbled onto it in the Archives. . .?

Before I could bring it to mind, Elodin spoke. “I am preparing to teach a class,” he said casually, “for those interested in the delicate and subtle art of naming.” He gave me a sideways look. “It occurs to me that it might not be a complete waste of your time.”

“I might be interested,” I said carefully.

He nodded. “You should read Teccam’s Underlying Principles to prepare. Not a long book, but thick, if you follow me.”

“If you lend me a copy, I’d like nothing better than to read it,” I said. “Otherwise, I’ll have to muddle through without.” He looked at me, uncomprehending. “I’ve been banned from the Archives.”

“What, still?” Elodin asked, surprised.

“Still.”

He seemed indignant. “It’s been what? Half a year?”

“Three quarters of a year in three days’ time,” I said. “Master Lorren has made his feelings clear on the issue of letting me back inside.”

“That,” Elodin said with a strange protectiveness in his voice, “is utter horseshit. You’re my Re’lar now.”

Elodin changed directions, heading over a piece of rooftop I usually avoided because it was covered in clay roofing tiles. From there we hopped a narrow alley, made our way across the sloping roof of an inn, and stepped onto a broad roof of finished stone.

Eventually we came to a wide window with the warm glow of candlelight behind it. Elodin knocked on a pane of glass as sharply as if it were a door. Looking around, I realized we were standing atop the Masters’ Hall.

After a moment, I saw the tall, thin shape of Master Lorren block the candlelight behind the window. He worked the latch and the entire window swung open on a hinge.

“Elodin, what can I do for you?” Lorren asked. If he thought anything odd about the situation, I couldn’t tell from looking at his face.

Elodin jerked a thumb over his shoulder at me. “The boy here says he’s still banned from the Archives. Is that so?”

Lorren’s impassive eyes moved to me, then back to Elodin. “It is.”

“Well let him back in,” Elodin said. “He needs to read things. You’ve made your point.”

“He’s reckless,” Lorren said flatly. “I’d planned to keep him out for a year and a day.”

Elodin sighed. “Yes yes, very traditional. Why don’t you give him a second chance? I’ll vouch for him.”

Lorren eyed me for a long moment. I tried to look as responsible as I could, which wasn’t very, considering I was standing on a rooftop in the middle of the night.

“Very well,” Lorren said. “Tomes only.”

“Tombs is for feckless tits who can’t chew their own food,” Elodin said dismissively. “My boy’s a Re’lar. He has the feck of twenty men! He needs to explore the Stacks and discover all manner of useless things.”

“I am not concerned about the boy,” Lorren said with unblinking calm. “My concern is for the Archives itself.”

Elodin reached out and grabbed me by the shoulder, pushing me forward a bit. “How about this? If you catch him larking around again, I’ll let you cut off his thumbs. That should set an example, don’t you think?”

Lorren gave the two of us a slow look. Then he nodded. “Very well,” he said, and closed his window.

“There you go,” Elodin said expansively.

“What the hell?” I demanded, wringing my hands. “I ... What the hell?”

Elodin looked at me, puzzled. “What? You’re in. Problem solved.”

“You can’t offer to let him cut off my thumbs!” I said.

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you planning on breaking the rules again?” He asked pointedly.

“Wh—No. But . . .”

“Then you don’t have anything to worry about,” he said. He turned and continued up the slope of the roof. “Probably. I’d still step carefully if I were you. I can never tell when Lorren is kidding.”

* * *

As soon as I awoke the next day, I made my way to the office of the bursar and settled accounts with Riem, the pinch-faced man who held the University’s purse strings. I paid my hard-won nine talents and five, securing my place in the University for one more term.

Next I went to Ledgers and Lists where I signed up for observation in the Medica along with Physiognomy and Physic. Next was Ferrous and Cupric Metallurgy with Cammar in the Fishery. Last came Adept Sympathy with Elxa Dal.

It was only then I realized I didn’t know the name of Elodin’s class. I leafed through the ledger until I spotted Elodin’s name, then ran my finger back to where the title of the class was listed in fresh dark ink: “Introduction to Not Being a Stupid Jackass.”

I sighed and penned my name in the single blank space beneath.

Date: 2015-02-03; view: 857