Chapter 8 – Magic Memories

Oooook.....finally back with another chapter. I'm sooooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrry it took so long! First I was at camp, then I was back at school, and for some reason school feels the need to try to kill me with homework overload! I had two projects due in a week, then I got two more that same week, and next week I have two due Monday, one due Tuesday, AND one due Wednesday, as well as all the other homework they feel like giving us, and quizzes, and tests. Who ever said senior year is easier than junior year was full of BULL. SERIOUSLY. Anyway, enough with my school troubles. So yea, I'm really sorry it took this long to post, but here it is! I hope you all like it.

Disclaimer - Anything you recognize in here (like Briar's flashback) belongs to Tamora Pierce. Not me. Sadly.

On with the story!

Previously –

"That was a good thing you did," Evvy said quietly, come up to stand behind Briar. He was fingering his knives, staring at the dead Thief Lord.

"I know it was, and it had to be done, but that doesn't make it better that I killed another person," he replied just as quietly.

"It was you or him, like you said, it had to be done," Evvy comforted him. "Let's go check on Rosethorn now, that will make you forget about trash like him."

*~*~*

"What do you mean you won't take him!?"

Briar and Evvy heard Rosethorn's irate voice long before they got to the guardhouse where she had taken the rogue mage.

"Sounds like she's in a mood again," Evvy remarked, with an almost evil grin on her face. It was so nice not to be on the receiving end of Rosethorn's anger.

"Yes it does," Briar answered almost as evilly. The two rounded the corner and saw Rosethorn standing in front of the guardhouse yelling at a senior officer. Reolin was still tressed up on the camel behind her, and the guard kept shooting wary glances at him, when now cowering from Rosethorn.

"We bring him all the way from Chammur, and you have the nerve – the nerve – to tell me you can't take him just because you're afraid he'll break out of your so called mage prisons," she stopped here to draw a breath, "which are called 'mage prisons' for a reason! To keep mages in!"

The guardsman visibly shrank under her harsh glare. "My apologies dedicate, but we housed this man before. He broke through our defenses like rice paper."

Rosethorn looked incredulous at this. "You mean you don't even have reliable prisons? What kind of place are you running! – No, don't answer that! I will see these so called prisons, and judge for myself whether it is safe for him to stay here." At this the guardsman looked even more terrified, but to defy Rosethorn now was not a good idea. Briar and Evvy stifled their giggles, and followed their mentor and friend into the jail.

The warden of the jail led the three, plus burden, (the camel had been left outside under the watch of the guardsman Rosethorn had terrorized), through the warren of passages that made up the jail. They passed many cells, most of which were crammed with street urchins who had been caught for stealing. Briar caught glances of the special "x" tattoos on the web of skin between their thumb and index finger, and winced in sympathy and remembrance. Some he knew were headed for hard labor for life, however long it may last. He touched his own tattoos in memory.

Flashback –

Twin pairs of rough hands picked him up, then dropped him in front of the magistrate's table, jarring his ankles. He growled and fought as the guards dragged his hands out in front of him. He knew it was useless, but he didn't care – they'd remember him, at least!

The judge didn't look at his face, only his hands. "Docks," she said, and yawned.

They were dragging Roach to a separate pen from the ones that held Weevil and Viper when a light male voice said, "A moment."

It was not a request, but a command. The guards looked back. Roach did not.

"May I see the boy again?" the man inquired.

"Bring him." The judge sounded bored.

Roach was hauled back to the stand in front of a civilian. This was no lawyer or soldier. His long, loose over-robe was deep blue, dyed cloth that cost a silver penny the yard on Draper's lane. It was worn over open loose gray breeches, a pale grey shirt, and good boots. He carried only a dagger; it hung next to the purse on his belt.

This was a Money-Bag, then, or an officer. Somebody big, for certain. Somebody who wore power like a cloak.

The Bag whispered something to the judge, who made a face. He held something before her eyes, a letter with a beribboned seal on it. The judge glared at Roach but nodded, and the Bag stepped away from her. "Their Majesties are inclined to mercy, as you are but a youth." The judge rattled it off fast, a speech learned by heart. "You have a choice – the docks, or exile from Sotat and service at the – " She faltered.

The Bag bent down to whisper, long, gray-streaked black hair tumbling forward to hide his face. Roach wondered if he was looking for a cute little servant boy, and grinned. Men who liked play-toys always regretted meeting him.

The man straightened and looked around until his dark eyes caught and held Roach's gray-green ones. There was something in that black gaze, something that had nothing to do with human play-toys. Roach's sense of power held in check grew threefold when he met those eyes. The warned – and comforted – at the same time.

Roach looked down.

"You have a choice of the docks, or apprenticeship to the Winding Circle Temple in Emelan," the judge went on, "until you take formal vows at the temple, or until its governing council rules that you are fit to enter society. Temple or docks, boy. Choose."

Choose? There were guards on the docks, nasty, wary fellows. What temple could hang onto a smart rat like him? Better yet, Emelan was far to the north or Sotat, fresh territory where no one knew who he was. "Temple," he replied.

"Make out transfer papers," the judge told a clerk. "Master Niklaren" – this was to the blue-robed man – "will you take charge of him?"

"Of course."

For a moment Roach's heart raced: he might be able to run before he ever saw Emelan! Then he met the Bag's eyes and gave up that idea. The man – Master Niklaren? – looked too wise to fall for any dodge he might pull.

"I can't make out papers for a 'Roach,'" whined the clerk. "Not to a temple."

"This is a chance, lad." Niklaren's voice was light in tone for a man's. "You can pick a name, one that's yours alone. You can choose how you will be seen from now on."

Only as long as I stay, Roach thought. Still, the Bag was right. Roach had never liked his name, but no one argued with the title the Thief-Lord gave.

"Choose, boy, and hurry up," snapped the judge. "I've other cases besides yours."

The docks were too close to risk annoying these people. What name would temple folk like? Plant and animal names, that was it. He imagined robed men and women smiling at him and giving up the key to the temple gates.

Plant and animal names. A picture flashed into his mind: a green, velvet corner – but that wouldn't do. He needed a tough name, one that would tell folk he was not to be trifled with. He studied his hands, trying to think – and noticed scarred welts across his right palm, a souvenir of a vine that grew on a merchant's garden wall.

"What's them vines with needles on them? Big, sharp ones, that rip chunks out when you grab 'em?"

The Bag smiled. "Roses. Briars."

He liked the sound of that second one. "Briar, then."

"You need a last name," the clerk said, rolling his eyes.

A last name? wondered Roach. Whatever for?

The judge tapped the desk impatiently.

"Moss," he said. No one would think he was moss-soft if he just didn't use it.

"Briar Moss," said the clerk, and filled in the blank space on his paper. "Master Niko, I'll need your signature."

Briar frowned. "Master" was a word for professors, mages, and wizards. The temples called women and men "dedicate." Who was this man, anyway?

"Cut him loose," the Bag – Master Niklaren – ordered the guards.

"Your pardon, sir, but you don't know what he's like!" growled one of them. "He's born and bred to vice – "

Niklaren straightened and caught the man with those black, powerful eyes. "Are these remarks addressed to me?"

Roach shivered – was the room suddenly colder? The judge drew a circle of protection on the front of her robe. The guard's face went white as milk. His partner cut Roach free.

"Briar won't run – will you, lad?" Niklaren bent to sign the clerk's paper.

Briar/Roach sensed that the Bag was right. Something about this man made escape seem like a bad idea.

I'll stick till we get to this temple place, he told himself. I can get lost there, easy.

End Flashback

He laughed at himself silently. He had certainly wised up since he was Roach the street rat. Going to Winding Circle had been the best thing that had ever happened to him, and meeting the girls, and especially Rosethorn. Despite getting the sharp edge of her tongue more often than he liked, she was still the person he loved most. Then there was Evvy more recently. She was like a younger sister to him. He had rescued her from the streets the same as Niko had rescued him, and taken her under his wing, no matter how unprepared for it he was, and if he said so himself he was doing a good job of it. Then again it did help to have your own teacher on hand to help you.

Now he turned his attention back to the cells they were passing. They were out of the street section, and into the higher class portions of the prison. The cells they passed were bigger, but they were also even barer than the ones for the street people. They were mostly empty, except for one or two, where the occupants sat on the floor, staring blankly out of the bars. A few quick experiments of Evvy's and his, and it was proven that while the guards and viewers could see in, the occupants could not see out. It was like an invisible one way mirror.

Finally they stopped in front of one of the empty cells. "This is the one he was originally housed in, when we found him harassing some people, and he resisted capture. He broke through the wards in a matter of hours, overpowered the guards, and simply walked out. We decided not to chase him or risk losing more men," the warden explained.

"Briar, Evvy, you come here," Rosethorn ordered sharply. She was still in a bad mood. It was harder to sense the plants surrounded by stone as she was. "Evvy I want you so sense in the stones for any spells cast on them or rooted in them. Briar I want you to follow her power and check her work. I will do the same to you, as well as search for any gaps in the power." The three got to work, searching every rock in the cell and every crack. Evvy found wards for sapping magic, restraining magic, preventing any magic from being cast on the stones, but nothing to keep previously cast spells from being activated to negate the spells. She said as much to Rosethorn.

Rosethorn, on the other hand, had found many hairline cracks in between the spells, where someone as skilled as Reolin, if they could get past the original spells, could exploit the weaknesses.

"Your cell is a piece of crap," she told the warden disdainfully. "You let him in with one piece of spelled rock, and he took down the whole place. I don't even think it took him a matter of seconds. The hours it took for him to get out was probably waiting for the watch to change."

The warden stared at her incredulously. "We let no rocks in with him. We took all pouches off his person and searched all his pockets."

"Yes, but did you look in his hems? Rocks are small, they can hide inside clothes and not be noticed."

The warden simply mouthed at her, disbelieving.

"I shall take that as a no. We're leaving this rat warren. It's clear you can't keep someone as dangerous as this – man – here. We shall simply take him with us to Yanjing." The three walked away, with a smirking Reolin following them on a rope. The warden simply stared at them in wonder.

*~*~*

That is my newest masterpiece, thought up at spur of the moment, It basically wrote itself. I hope people come and review! I'm in review withdrawal =(

I'll give a sneak preview of the next chapter (when I think of it) to the 30th reviewer!