The Magician's Sons

Chapter 27

It was late in the morning. Norman couldn't have roused himself a minute earlier. He opened two heavy eyelids and then let out a moan as vague memories started ghosting through his mind.

"Why did I do it?" he grumbled miserably. "I told myself I wouldn't!"

Every morning, he vowed that he would never again give in to temptation and drink with his merry friends. As his head pounded, he was sure his moment of enjoyment hadn't been worth the pain. But, as sure as the sun sets and gives place to darkness, Norman's reasoning faded by evening and temptation won against his conscience.

At last, he dragged himself out of bed and got himself ready for the day while his sleepy thoughts still lingered upon last night's memories. He could never fully remember the hour when he and Crumley left the guild. He always hoped that he hadn't behaved himself too stupidly in his drunken state. But how was he to know? As he wondered and lamented, a familiar fear hit his heart.

Oh horror! What if Father chanced to come home one night as Crumley and I were walking in? He shuddered and moaned in distress. Don't come yet, Father, he thought. Let me get my bearings and put an end to this stupidity before you do. Oh, mercy me! He cannot know the things I have done!

He tried to compose himself and bring sense back to his mind. Surely his fear of being caught by his father was needless. He had received several letters from his father during the weeks which Sterling had been gone. Jasper's journey had been long and delayed, sometimes by bad weather, and sometimes by old acquaintances who had insisted on having his company for a few days at a time. At long last, he had reached his destination, but Jasper had been vague in telling his son about his discoveries there; and he couldn't give the youth a particular date of when he would be returning home. Norman was left to surmise that the factory's state had proven more complicated than Mr. Sterling had expected. At any other time, the young man would have been burning with curiosity about the matter. But as things stood, he was more comfortable leaving his father's business alone while he kept his own secrets.

Still suffering from his stupid choices, the young man crept softly to the dining room and settled himself down at the table.

"Ah Norman! Good morning, young man!" Crumley's voice blared.

The youth set his teeth firmly and tried to endure the ringing pain in his ears. "Good morning," he managed.

"You made quite the impression last night, didn't you?" his friend laughed jovially.

Norman gave a start and looked up at him with worried eyes. "What did I do?" he asked in panic. What slurring, ridiculous words had escaped his mouth? What senseless thing had he done while he had been out of control?

"You precious innocent!" Crumley chortled. "You're either being incredibly modest or incredibly senseless! Don't you know when you have impressed a lord? Your little speech about law-and-order last night was all Lord Slyfield could talk about! Keep it up, young man, and unless I miss my mark, you may expect that his lordship will make you a very generous offer in the future."

As shame and terror gave place to hope, Norman could almost forget about his headache. He couldn't remember what brilliant speech he had given. But what did that matter as long as he was moving up in the guild?

"Mr. Crumley, what kind of offer do you speak of?" he asked excitedly.

"Oh, that depends on whether you continue to impress him. He is too wise to gamble on a youth like you unless he is fully convinced that you are of a steady and reliable disposition. If he promotes you to a position of importance, he must be certain that you won't squander or mar it. Many a promising young man has ruined his chances at greatness by spoiling his reputation."