Living Words

"Oh," Guylian said quietly, curling his fingers around the edges of the book he held. "I can—what did you  want to know?"

"Anything you want to tell me," Macati said, smiling gently. "Was Civomic your first language?"

"Maybe," Guylian said, shrugging. "I don't—I've known it for as long as I can remember. My aunt—it's all  we would talk in at home. She was trying to get more people to use it, even though it's a living language."

"My teacher kept a regular correspondence with her," Macati said thoughtfully. "I don't know if that was  what they wrote about, but he even went out to visit her a few times before I was apprenticed."

"She wrote lots of letters," Guylian said, smiling a little. He'd spent most afternoons playing in the writing  room while she replied to her correspondence and when he'd gotten older, he'd practiced his handwriting  copying letters for her. "She wrote lots of books too."

"I might have one of her books," Macati said, offering him another smile. "Your aunt was the foremost  expert on Civomic."

"She wrote more than she published, I think," Guylian said, remembering the library, the shelves upon  shelves of books, and the entire bookcase devoted to his aunt's work. "She only sent the basic books  around since not many people understood or cared about the advanced topics."

"I think my master would kill to see those books," Macati said, shaking his head.

"I think—they're probably still at the manor," Guylian said. "I could send some to him if I ever go back."

Macati snickered, looking thoroughly amused at something. "He'd probably have an apoplexy if I told him
I was apprenticing Diana Fyrate's nephew. Then he'd come down here and try to steal you away."

Guylian blinked, startled. "But he doesn't know me."

"That wouldn't matter," Macati assured him. "I think I'll keep your connection secret for now. I'd rather  like to keep you as an apprentice."

Guylian ducked his head. Macati had to be just saying that; he couldn't mean it, not after Guylian's earlier  behavior.

"Hey, none of that," Macati scolded, sitting up and tugging at a lock of Guylian's hair. "You're a good  apprentice, Guylian. Best I've had. You've met Tlory, and you're a thousand times better at magic than all  three of my previous apprentices put together."

"I'm better at Civomic," Guylian said unhappily, slouching down on the bench. "And that—I didn't work  for it. I was just lucky."

"Civomic isn't all there is to magic," Macati said lightly. "There are base components, spell compositions,  spell circles, and a number of other things you've already got a good grasp on. You're good with Civomic,  but you're also good with magic and you're a quick study."

Guylian flushed, rubbing his warm cheeks with the heels of his hands.

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Sasha L. Miller
"You're probably going to earn your mage license within the year," Macati added quietly, and Guylian shot  him an incredulous look. "If it even takes you that long. You're good at magic, Guylian. Not just Civomic."

"I—just…" Guylian started, but gave up. He didn't really have anything to say, not really.

"And I've gone and clammed you up again," Macati said, sighing.

"I just don't know what to say," Guylian admitted quietly. "I don't—" Guylian sighed, wishing fervently  there was a way for him to speak Civomic without the chance that he'd accidentally set something on fire,  or worse.

"All right," Macati said, giving him a slightly crooked smile. "So long as it's not that you don't think you  can say something. You can tell me anything, okay? I promise I won't get upset or angry, or if I do, you can  throw something at me for being a liar."

Guylian nodded, even if he was sure there were things he wasn't going to ever tell Macati. There were  some things Macati just didn't need to know.

"Anything you want to know about me? Since I've been incredibly nosy about you?" Macati asked after a  moment. Guylian started to shake his head before thinking the better of it.

"Did you and Justain really apprentice together?"

Macati laughed. "Oh, yes. He's still a lot like he was back then—grumpy, bad-tempered, eats like he's got  three stomachs and hates to cook. Between me and him, we near drove our teacher crazy."

Guylian frowned, disbelieving. Macati had aided in driving his teacher crazy?

"I was a bit of a terror," Macati said, grinning cheerfully. "I'd come into my magical abilities early, around  thirteen—"

Guylian's eyes widened. He hadn't come into his until he'd turned seventeen.

"—and I'd led a spoiled life until Nathan took me on. Then I had to learn how to cook and clean and  actually pay attention to my lessons…"

Guylian bit his lip, trying to hide his smile. Macati snickered.

"There was a bit of conflict at first. Justain didn't help. He's a few years older than I am, and he wasn't  pleased to have his teacher usurped by a younger, wealthier student," Macati said, shaking his head. "After  the two of us, Nathan never took two apprentices on at the same time again. We played so many tricks on  the poor man, it's a wonder he didn't toss the two of us out on our ears."

"Oh!" Guylian sat up straight, making Macati's eyebrows raise in surprise. Guylian flushed. "Um, how did  you do the spell earlier?"

"The trick? With the chain?" Macati asked.

Guylian nodded. "It was on purpose, right? How did you know it wasn't going to do something harmful?"

"I've got a book on practical jokes you can do with dangling spells," Macati said. "I'd show you later, but I  don't want to give you any ideas for revenge."
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Living Words

"I wouldn't," Guylian protested absently. "But how did the person who wrote the book figure it out?"

"Accidents, probably," Macati said, shrugging. "Or by taking a complex spell and cutting it into two  parts—the first to dangle and the second which could be used on its own."

Guylian nodded thoughtfully, wondering if any of the spells he'd worked with would be amenable to that.

"You're thinking about that too much for my peace of mind," Macati said seriously, climbing to his feet.
"Let's go heal some plants and then we break into the pasties for lunch."

"Okay," Guylian agreed absently, standing up and following Macati across the yard. Wiping at his face,
Guylian found it was easier than usual to offer Macati a smile as they headed toward the far side of the  yard.
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Chapter five


Macati didn't want to get out of bed. He ached everywhere, and they'd only been working on Nella's  garden for three days.

Three long, arduous days that had only gotten half the garden into good shape. Macati wasn't going to  complain; fixing Nella's garden and yard completely would just pay off the cost of Guylian's book and new  inks.

At least he could be sure he wasn't alone in his suffering. Guylian hadn't complained, but he'd been  moving more and more stiffly each day and last night he'd barely made it upstairs before passing out.

Pulling his covers back, Macati winced, gingerly climbing out of bed. If it was only casting a number of  healing spells, the project wouldn't be bad, but it was more than that. Nella's mother hadn't visited in over  a year and Nella had completely neglected the garden in the meantime, allowing the plants to grow  haphazardly all over the yard and tangle together wildly.

Which meant the first thing they needed to do was sort the whole thing out, using more mundane methods  of gardening like weeding and pruning.

Guylian was terrible at it, but Macati wasn't surprised at that. It seemed that, wherever Guylian had been  before Justain found him, it was high enough in status that he hadn't needed to learn how to cook or  garden or do any cleaning.

Macati smiled a little, stretching his sore muscles carefully. Guylian was more relaxed after the other day in  the garden. He was still shy, but he seemed more comfortable than he had before.

Macati was making a point to do more casual touching too, to try and get Guylian more comfortable with  that. Macati didn't doubt some of the women in town would eventually hug Guylian. And maybe he  enjoyed it a little, the excuse to get closer to Guylian, but nothing would come of it so he refused to feel  guilty about it.

Shaking his head at himself, Macati pulled on his working clothes slowly and then wandered out to the  kitchen. He needed to go into town later—they were just about out of everything. Maybe he could
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Living Words  convince Guylian to go? Probably not, but he could leave Guylian working on the garden when he went  into town.

He could pick up a nice lunch for them while he was at it. Fetching a few apples and the last of their bread  from the pantry, Macati brought it into the kitchen and started to make up a pot of tea.

Unsurprisingly, Guylian hadn't made an appearance by the time the tea was ready, so Macati headed  upstairs to wake him.

The stack of books by Guylian's bed hadn't moved, so he really had been tired enough to fall asleep  immediately upon getting home. Kysera was asleep next to Guylian's face, his tiny arms wrapped around a  lock of Guylian's hair.

Macati smiled, nudging the pixie away carefully. Kysera stirred, his wings fluttering against Guylian's cheek  as he woke up. He didn't move though, just glared resentfully up at Macati.

Macati snickered—Kysera was unhappy that he kept taking Guylian away for the better part of the day.
Kysera chirped at him indignantly, doing Macati's work for him when he burrowed closer to Guylian and  one of his wings settled in front of Guylian's mouth.

Guylian raised a hand to nudge Kysera away, murmuring something incomprehensible and unhappy as he  moved.

"Time to get up," Macati said cheerfully, making Guylian's eyes snap open. Kysera scowled, hugging his  lock of Guylian's hair closer.

"Already?" Guylian mumbled, but he obligingly began to move, untangling Kysera from his hair before  climbing stiffly out of bed.

"Breakfast is ready when you are," Macati said, earning a half-hearted nod as Guylian yawned. He looked  like he would like nothing more than to fall back into bed. Macati grinned, heading back downstairs as
Guylian slowly moved towards where he'd neatly piled his work clothes yesterday.

Maybe if they made good headway today, Macati wouldn't feel bad about letting them sleep in tomorrow.
Once the garden was completely done, they could take an entire day off before heading into town to do  the requisitioned cold box spells.

Guylian stumbled into the kitchen as Macati was finishing off his first cup of tea. He was stuffing a hair  ribbon in his pocket, the pale green material bright against the dark of his pants.

Kysera fluttered in after, him, landing on the table gracelessly. He straightened himself out and turned to  pout at Macati, his wings fluttering with agitation as he stared.

"I think he's mad at me," Macati observed, shaking his head. Guylian laughed quietly, sitting down in his  usual seat at the table.

"He's lonely," Guylian admitted, nudging Kysera gently. Kysera turned to him and let out a low, sad chirp.

"You could make another," Macati suggested, sitting down awkwardly. He usually liked gardening, but this  was ridiculous. "A companion."

"But…" Guylian began, frowning. "I'd have to put the hold spell on that one, too."
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