Treacherous Witch

9. The Scholar

"The goldentree is the source of all magic. It's a transcendent construct that manifests in the silvertrees, the priesthood, and sorcery itself."
Interview with Queen Shikra III, as told to Master Anwen

She met the scholar in the garden. Valerie had expected to be taken to a library or study, but instead the guard escorted her to one of the greenhouses where an old man pottered about in the vegetable patch. Her first impression of him was of an old, wide-brimmed hat.

Then he looked up, and his face cracked into a wide, crinkly smile. "Lady Valerie! Yes? Good morning! What a delight it is—no, an honour—to meet you."

He shook her hand vigorously, and she couldn't help smiling back. Patches of white hair poked out beneath his hat. He was wearing a waistcoat and tails like those favoured by the Drakonian lords, but the velvet cloak was distinctly battered and trailing with dirt.

"Come by the shed," he invited her, and she obliged. The bemused gardener shot both of them a look when the scholar instructed his manservant to pull up folding chairs for the pair of them. The old man's bones creaked as he sat down and sighed. "Many apologies, my lady, for dragging you over to the tomato vines, but I have an ongoing experiment that couldn't wait."

She sat down beside him, folding her hands in her lap. "Experiment?"

He waved a hand. "Yes, I'm monitoring the temperature and consistency of the soil and conducting a biosurvey inside and outside the greenhouse. The greenhouse is hotter, you see, so I intend to investigate how and whether that affects the lifecycle and population growth of the green-backed beetle."

"The... green-backed beetle?"

"A rare species found only in the southern climes of Maskamere. There's a wonderful population right here, and the gardener keeps squashing them, can you believe! I've instructed him to stop that at once so I can monitor the population undisturbed."

"Don't they eat the vegetables?"

"Well, yes, but they must be undisturbed for my work."

"Lord Avon said you were an expert in magic, not beetles," she said, trying not to smile.

"Yes! I'm an expert in both. Beetles were my first love, from my days roaming the fields at home as a boy. There are endless varieties. I myself have documented over thirty new species. My search led me to Maskamere, where I came across a silvertree for the first time. It was only a sapling—natural born, they thought, almost unheard of, but it was extraordinary. Then I learned about the connection between the silvertrees and the priestesses, and, well, I've been here ever since." He paused, pushing his glasses up his nose, then seemed to remember something. "I'm Master Anwen. Did I say that?"

"No—it's a pleasure to meet you, Master Anwen." She was very curious now. He was Drakonian, but he didn't speak like any of the other Drakonians she had met. "How long have you lived in Maskamere?"

"Oh, over thirty years. The beetles are a hobby. I've devoted my life to the study of sorcery, its history, its natural mechanisms. I firmly believe it should belong to a branch of the biological sciences."

"You're a natural philosopher?"

He nodded. "I'm writing a book which will be the definitive guide to the natural origins of sorcery for all who may be interested in Drakon. It includes firsthand accounts from local practitioners as well as my own observations, deductions and theories."

"What about the books written by the priestesses? Have you read those too?"

At this, Anwen gave her a pained look. "As a man, I was never allowed into a convent. Can you believe it! I've scoured the library here, and there's very little of interest on the topic, even before the purge."