The Apprenticeship of Julian St. Albans (32 page)

“A
light as bright as you is well worth preserving, my boy,” said Stephen. He
turned on the taps, and warm water whooshed around Julian’s legs, then came
showering down from overhead. “Go ahead and stand and get nice and rinsed,
we won’t wash you until you’ve had your massage, you’re terribly tense.”

“It’s
been a trying week, Father,” said Julian, standing up and making sure to
rinse away as much of the mineral salts as possible.

“That
it has,” said Stephen sadly. He handed Julian a towel when Julian turned
off the water, and Julian got dried off and headed into the bedroom.
“Massage first, then meditation while you’re feeling relaxed.”

“Ooh,
you’re spoiling me,” said Julian, pleased to see that the bed had been
draped with extra sheets, likely courtesy of Alys. He lay down as directed and
relaxed into Father Stephen’s practiced touches. “Did you ever take the
massage station at the Temple? You’re quite good.”

“I’ve
done all the jobs involved with purification, with the exception of making
potions,” said Father Stephen. “I even tended the meditation garden
for a while, until someone more suited could replace me.”

Julian
relaxed a little more, thinking about how devoted Father Stephen must be to
that Temple in particular. The big Temple of Purification was more complex than
most people realised, and Julian was finally starting to realise that the
other, smaller Temples were actually devoted to other things that the order as a
whole believed in supporting, such as the nature-filled Temple at Gainesbury.
He let his mind drift, wondering what other Temples there were and how they
were organised, wondering where the Guardians trained and lived and what that
Temple might be like, and how the various people he’d met at the Temples had
come to give their lives to that work.

“I
think you’re relaxed,” said Father Stephen, a smile in his voice.
“You’re quite far away, but the thoughts seem good?”

“I
was thinking about the Temples,” said Julian, giving a good stretch and
feeling his sore shoulder pop satisfyingly. “My bruise must be nearly
better?”

“It
looks colourful still,” said Father Stephen, “but you didn’t seem to
feel much pain from it while I was working.”

“I
didn’t,” said Julian sitting up. “Shower now, potion last?”

“A
proper meditation first,” said Father Stephen. He’d somehow managed to
keep his robe from getting either damp from the shower or oiled from the
massage, and he sat cross-legged after helping Julian into the same position.
“Are you warm enough?”

Julian
blushed a little, but he was growing used to the way the Temple priests didn’t
view nudity the same way as the rest of the world. “I’m warm, it’s nice in
here after everyone’s showers.”

“All
right, now close your eyes and find that love you were shining so brightly with
before,” said Father Stephen.

Julian
did so, finding it easily and expanding it again so it filled him from top to
toes and out to his fingertips, warming him from the inside out. “I had no
idea there was this much inside of me,” said Julian quietly.

“You
are quite blessed,” said Father Stephen. Julian could feel his glow and it
was like being binary stars for a moment, two bright suns shining together,
though Father Stephen’s magic felt different from Julian’s. There was a pure
devotion at its core that was nothing Julian could match, and it coloured
everything about Father Stephen with a peaceful sense of purpose.

“So
are you,” said Julian shyly. “I never knew you were so
powerful.”

Father
Stephen chuckled. “I expend my energy in ways most consider
invisible,” said Father Stephen, “much as you used to, in many small
blessings over our fair city, one person at a time.”

“Like
me and my plants,” said Julian softly. “I’m glad I can still do
that.”

“As
am I,” said Father Stephen. “Now, you’ve filled yourself up with that
love, and I want you to think about your whole body, and the subtle body that
resides within, and look at every part of your inner self.”

“Yes,
Father,” said Julian softly, turning his attention inward. He treated
himself like he might an ailing plant, sweeping his attention from crown to
toes methodically, out to the tips of each finger, through each strand of hair
and inch of skin. He could feel something lingering at the very ends of his
hair and he pushed the shine out, down the shafts until it stood out from his
skin like static and there was no trace of the darkness left. He breathed in
steady, deep breaths of the magic that permeated his apartment, and when he
tightened his magic back up his hair flattened back against his skull, but
there was more sign of whatever darkness had been clinging to it.

“That’s
good, very good,” said Father Stephen. “Now, take my hands,” he
said, and Julian could feel where they were without opening his eyes. He put
his hands in Stephen’s and felt a little jolt as their magic connected and some
of that pure white devotion swept into him, clearing every little cobweb out of
the corners of his magic, until he felt scoured new from the inside out.

“Wow,”
said Julian, blinking his eyes open when their hands, and the connection, came
apart. He was surprised to find the room so dim, half expecting to see Father
Stephen shining with his magic.

“You’re
clean,” said Father Stephen with certainty. “Let’s get you into the
shower.”

“Thank
you, Father,” said Julian, aware that the priest had put a lot of energy
into him, and also that something inside him had been shifted, like a block
he’d had unwittingly in front of his energy that now allowed it to flow more
freely. “You opened something up?”

Stephen
looked a bit embarrassed. “I’m afraid I’ve likely accelerated your magical
development, I got a bit enthusiastic with the cleansing spell there.”

“It’s
all right,” said Julian, standing up and stretching again. “I think
I’m going to need it, and everyone will help me get a handle on it.”

“You’re
already much more controlled than the shy little trickles you sent out to all
my plants before,” said Father Stephen, accepting a hand up.
 

“I’m
not sure I’ll be able to nap after that, though,” said Julian, heading in
to turn the shower back on. “Do I need anything special here?”

“Oh,
yes,” said Father Stephen. “There’s a bar of our soap and some
special shampoo, here,” he said, pointing them out. “I’ll get your
potion ready, though I’ve been told I’m not allowed to clean up after
myself,” he added with a chuckle.

“Definitely
not,” said Julian. “That’s Nat’s job.” He washed carefully and
thoroughly, getting the soap everywhere and then shampooing twice to get all
the salt and massage oil out of his hair.
 

“I
wonder if my stylist would make a house call?” said Julian as he dried
off. “I’m feeling the need for shorter hair.”

Stephen
chuckled and handed over Julian’s pyjamas and amulet. “I suspect he or she
could be convinced, since you’ve got the means, but I’m not sure Alex would
allow them inside.”

“Probably
not,” said Julian with a chuckle. “I’ll manage, either way.” He
got dressed and presented himself for the final blessing, the kiss of peace
with the potion. This time the potion sent a sharp, cold shiver through him,
and Julian was very glad that there was no trace of the other spell left,
because he didn’t want to feel what would happen if the two magics had collided
inside him.

Stephen
kissed his forehead, and then smiled. “Go in peace, let them assure
themselves of your wellness, and I’ll finish up here so you can nap.”

“Yes,
Father, thank you,” said Julian, kissing his cheek and sending him a tiny,
bright tendril of power. “C’mon, Horace, let’s go see how everyone’s
doing.”

Horace
flew down first to Stephen’s shoulder, giving his hair a little preen, before
hopping over to Julian’s. “He likes you, and wanted to say thanks for
helping his humans,” said Julian.

“He
is very welcome,” said Father Stephen. He reached out and stroked the
bird’s head, eyes closing and making Julian wonder how he sensed magic.
“He is also free of the spell, Alex has constructed him with some very
interesting protections against outside interference. He might look to his old
work to inform his new.”

“I’ll
let you suggest that,” said Julian. He made his way out into the living
room, where the two Guardians came and looked him over.

“You’re
clearer than you’ve ever been,” said James, after long moments of silent
examination.

Jacques
nodded. “Brighter, too,” he said suspiciously. “I’m not sure
that’s an approved use for that spell.”

“It
worked,” said Father Stephen, amused. “And Julian is unlikely to go
telling on me.”

“What
spell was it?” asked Julian curiously, making the three of them laugh.
“You brought it up.”

“Normally
it’s used to clear out magical blockages caused by trauma,” said Jacques.
“Sometimes an accident will cause someone to wall off their own magic,
which can get to be very unhealthy if they’re blocking something vital, so
things build up and get toxic.”

“It’s
a very intimate spell, though,” said James. “Usually only used by a
therapist who’s been working closely with the traumatised person and knows
them. Someone they trust implicitly.”

“Well,
Father Stephen does know me and I do trust him,” said Julian, “and I
have been rather traumatised by magic lately, so I approve.”

“I
think it was probably good for you,” said Alex, coming up to hug him and
kiss his hair, humming the little tune he used to check on Julian.

“It
felt good,” said Julian. “I feel stronger now, more sure of myself.
The thorn’s gone, and Father Stephen helped heal the damage it did when it was
forced out.”

“You
do look healthier,” said James, stepping close and kissing Julian’s
forehead, giving him another tiny trickle of magic.

Julian
beamed. “Thank you,” he said, letting Alex lead him over to sit,
though not without getting a forehead kiss from Jacques, who wasn’t about to be
outdone. “I’m also feeling much less in need of a nap after that,”
said Julian. He curled up in the reading chair with Alex and accepted the cup
of tea that floated up to him.

“Well,
I may still drag you off for one,” said Alex, snuggling up. “Unless
Jones wants to be my cuddle bear,” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

“For
a nap in a real bed, it might be worth it,” teased Jones right back.
“Though those Guardian pallets do look comfier than they ought.”

“We’ll
set you up in Alex’s office, once Lapointe’s done with you,” assured
Jacques.

“Actually,
I’m good,” Murielle said, flipping her notebook shut. “You’re all
excellent witnesses, though we still have basically no leads, so you’re
actually all bloody useless.”

“At
least we feed you well,” said Alex. “Speaking of bloody useless,
how’s Fischer’s newbie consultant doing?”

Jacques
got up and grabbed his things, leading Jones into Alex’s open work room to get
his nap and leaving them to their gossip.

“Terrible,
and well on his way to being fired,” said Murielle with no little
satisfaction. “He’s less useful than you were on your second case.”

“That
is pretty useless,” said Alex, sounding impressed. Which led to the two of
them telling the story until Alex was looking asleep where he sat, and it was
Julian’s turn to take care of him.

“Come
on, love, let’s get some sleep, our guests can entertain themselves until
dinner,” said Julian, getting up and coaxing Alex with him.

“Do
get some rest,” said Stephen, waving him off. “We won’t make
trouble.”

“We’ll
just talk about you behind your back,” added Murielle with a look of false
innocence.

“You
always do,” said Alex dourly, but he allowed himself to be led away and
tucked into bed with Julian there to hold him. Once they were horizontal,
Julian felt the stresses rushing back in, and he was glad of the excuse to let
sleep claim him, too.

CHAPTER 19

Horace
was sent in to wake them for dinner, chirping and hopping over to gently nuzzle
against Julian’s cheek and tug Alex’s hair. Julian grinned as he woke, stroking
Horace’s back and feeling his pride at being useful. “You’re brilliant,
love,” he said, kissing the top of the mechanical head.

“I’m
going to be jealous of my own bird,” said Alex, stroking his fingers over
Horace’s bright plumage and getting a kiss of his own from Julian. “You’re
a very nice alarm, maybe I should give you the ability to tell time so you can
take over for the clock.”

Horace
chirped happily at this idea, and Julian giggled. “It sounds like Horace
approves.”

Alex
smiled and kissed Julian’s ear. “It’s a simple enough spell to add in,
I’ll do it when all this is done,” he promised.

Horace
chirped again, then hopped to the edge of the bed and launched himself in the
air, flying back to the living room to report success. Alex and Julian indulged
in a few more kisses before getting up and shuffling out, though Julian added
his dressing gown over his pyjamas despite the warmth of their flat.

“So,
what’s for dinner?” asked Julian, yawning.

“Alex
waking Jones, first,” said Jacques. “None of us could get the door
back open.”

Alex
chuckled. “Right, sorry,” he said, veering off course to the work
room door and heading in to wake Jones.

“The
question stands, though,” said Julian, curling up in their chair.
“And are we eating out here?”

“There’s
not room for seven in here,” said Alys tartly from the kitchen. She’d
reappeared earlier to apply the poultices, and seemed to find it not worth her
trouble to vanish again.

“Right,”
said Julian with another big yawn. “Brain’s still asleep.”

“We’ll
trade off naps after dinner,” said James. “It’ll be good for us, and
so far we’re all safe in here.”

“Plus
you know we’ll wake you if there’s a problem,” said Julian. The work room
door opened again and Jones came out looking disheveled and somewhat refreshed.
“Sleep well?”

“Better
than I expected,” said Jones. “Alys’ poultice is a wonder.” He
took a spot on the couch with Murielle, while the two Guardians had kitchen
chairs and Father Stephen was in the other comfortable chair. Alex joined
Julian in their reading chair, and they made a full circle around the low coffee
table, with the Guardians facing the door.

“Any
news on the case?” asked Jones, picking up the teacup that appeared in
front of him with a yawn that Julian and Alex both echoed.

The
rest of them laughed, and Alex stuck his tongue out. “You’re just jealous
because you didn’t get to nap.”

“So
far there’s no news, other than confirming that the seeds were witch grass.
Are, I suppose, they’re in stasis still,” said Murielle, sipping her own
tea. There were no more biscuits or other treats, but everyone had a full
cuppa.

Trays
began to float out, laden with a pork roast, fingerling potatoes, homemade
applesauce, mixed cauliflower and carrots with some sort of sauce, and little
salads. Julian and Alex got one big tray with two sets of plates and silverware
to share, much to everyone else’s amusement, but it all looked so good to
Julian’s suddenly ravenous appetite that he didn’t care one bit. He started out
by cutting up his roast, which was stuffed with an amazing mix of Alys’
sourdough bread, mushrooms, and apples.

“Oh,
wow, this is amazing,” said Jones. “Alys feeds us very well.”

“Very
well,” agreed Father Stephen, who’d been given a mage’s portion of the
food, which meant three slices of roast, so it was good he liked it.
“Jacques helped cook while you napped, too.”

“Alys
and I worked out a few new ways to get some good herbs in you,” said
Jacques proudly. “The stuffing recipe is one of mine.”

“The
sauce on the veg is mine,” said Alys from the kitchen, “but your
Jacques is no slouch.”

Julian
dutifully tried one of the carrots, finding it was coated in a buttery sauce
with a gingery kick to it that sent warmth all through him. “Oh, these are
delicious,” said Julian, trying one of the cauliflower. The sweet
vegetables went wonderfully with the spicy sauce, and he could feel his energy
reserves already starting to perk back up. “Oh!” he said, feeling
something else, a sense of the earth the ingredients had grown in, the familiar
feeling of the St. Albans vegetable gardens and a hint of somewhere far away and
rich in magic that instilled the sauce. “Wow, that’s a lot of, um,
information.”

“From
cauliflower?” said Jones, raising one eyebrow.

“Julian’s
attuned to plants more than anything else,” said Alex. “What do you
feel?” he asked curiously.

Julian
was already eating a carrot and had to chew and swallow before he could answer.
“I can feel the garden plot back at the estate, and a little bit of
wherever the ginger came from, she’s been buying magical ginger for our
food.”

“It’s
a little more coin, but worth it when feeding you boys,” said Alys,
unrepentant.

“I
think it’s a brilliant idea,” said Jacques. “I’m going to do that
when I restock my own spice cupboard.”

“I’ll
mention it to Mary Margaret when I’m back at work, maybe we can do something
for our herb garden there,” said Julian thoughtfully. “I wonder how
things are doing there?”

“You
can call her after dinner,” said Alex. “She won’t mind, even if she’s
off work.”

“Oh,
good idea, and we can hide Jones in the kitchen to call Jenny, too,” said
Julian, laughing at the look on Jones’ face. “You’re not getting out of
this one.”

“Apparently
not,” said Jones, but he was grinning. “I just hope she meant to give
me her number, and wasn’t spelled or whatever.”

“I
don’t think she’ll be upset, even if she was,” said Alex. “She just
wanted to make sure you weren’t flirting so she wouldn’t be mad at me.”

“Why
would this lady have been angry with you?” asked Father Stephen, and they
told him the story of her misguided flirtations and Jones’ subsequent attempts
to get her number. That led to more stories of women trying to flirt with the
Guardians, including one who’d been a Charge at the time, and of course Alex’s
long-standing luck with shop girls and waitresses other than poor Jenny.

Julian
told a story of a disappointed maid who had to eventually be dismissed after
trying to drive a wedge between him and Cecil, and then Murielle even had her
own tale of woe about a barista who used to make eyes at her. They all enjoyed
the diversion from their current troubles, and everyone was more relaxed by the
time the food was gone. Murielle offered to drive Father Stephen back, so they
took their leave and Jacques claimed the first nap.

Jones
took his phone into the kitchen to call Jenny, while Julian dutifully called
Mary Margaret, who chattered happily on speakerphone about things at the
greenhouse. She answered a few questions from Alex about the history, and
approved of Julian’s idea to add in some sections of special edible, magical
herbs. They’d just finished up when Jones came out looking very pleased with
life, and was followed by a wave of full teacups and saucers of truffles.

“Reading?”
suggested Julian, as the snacks settled on the table. Everyone came to a tacit
agreement to allow Jones to enjoy the glow of his success with Jenny without
too much teasing, at least for now, and instead went to find their books.

“I’ll
need to borrow something, my book’s out in the car,” said Jones, “but
that sounds wonderful.”

“Nonsense,
I can get it,” said Nat, vanishing to make good on his word before anyone
could protest.

They
spent a pleasant evening reading quietly, playing cards and sharing treats as
Alys provided them. Julian mostly succeeded at not thinking about what their
adversary might be up to, and why; he could see the same worries passing over
the rest of their faces sometime, too. The next trouble would be upon them soon
enough, without inviting it into their thoughts.