Chapter 19: The Sorcerer's Apprentice

Chapter 19: The Sorcerer's Apprentice

The Sorcerers Apprentice

The sea took Lander and Uncle Holv away on a clear, sunny day. And not long after, on an afternoon when lightning crackled across the sky and lit the dark water below, it brought the sorcerer, just as Nanu had promised.

Word ran through the village.

Kalen had been attempting meditation in the barn, with Sleepynerth warm at his back. He hadnt had much time to practice over the past two weeks, but at least his internal magic wasnt leaking all over the place anymore. He seemed solid inside.

He missed his rock, but Nanu said if he persuaded the sorcerer to lose interest in him quickly, he might find his way back there before the last of the rift magic had passed the island by.

He stretched and checked outside the barn. The rain was more of a drizzle than a deluge at the moment. And that was Clem, wasnt it? He was heading toward the ocean.

A few minutes later, Kalen was running after Clem and the other village children, eager and nervous to see a small fishing vessel approaching shore.

It wasnt much of a seafaring ship, so it must have come from Baitown. And all the children knew it bore the sorcerer because it glowed an eerie white against the chaotic darkness of the storm. Everyone pointed and exclaimed, and as it came closer and closer, it was possible to see that the boat cut through the high waves with unnatural ease.

Ogro grew very excited. Could you do that, Kalen? he asked, gesturing wildly at the boat with his meaty arms.

Oh, that would be grand! Could you? asked a girl named Roa who had bright blue eyes.

Now, the sea was flattening in front of the boats bow like a stretched piece of fabric. Everyone looked at Kalen expectantly. He shook his head. Never if I had a hundred years. I wouldnt know where to start. Besides, that sort of magic isnt enchanting work.

Hed been careful to emphasize the fact that it was his dream to be an enchanter whenever the subject came up among his peers over the past while. Truthfully, if Kalen had a dream regarding his magic, it would be to finally figure out what he was naturally gifted at and study it to his hearts content.

But this was a small lie that fed into the larger one hed been crafting with Nanu over the past couple of weeks.

There wasnt much to it. The story wasnt even as complicated as the tale of Davvy the Bosun. Kalen only had to minimize the things youre curious about and the things that are curious about you as Nanu put it.

In the story, Kalen no longer fiddled around with all sorts of magic. He only cared about enchanting. He hoped to make money at it one day and be rich and famous the world over. He knew a tiny bit about the fire arts, too, but that was only because Nanu was his teacher. He was smart and had learned to read quickly, but hed been stuck with his magical education until this aurora arrived.

He didn't have enough books to advance. The enchanted buttons hed sent off with his cousin were his absolute pride and joy, the sum of all his work thus far.

I dont understand, Kalen said when Nanu had presented this story to him. If I dont want to attract the sorcerers attention, why say I hope to be rich and famous? Or that Im smart? Shouldnt we say I want to be something ordinary, and that Im the normal amount of smart, and that my buttons were made almost by accidentwhich they were?

We should do no such thing, said Nanu. Because nothing sounds more suspicious than insisting youre ordinary. Most people are polished diamonds in their own eyes, and there are few qualities less interesting than unearned arrogance. A boy enchanter with big dreams and not nearly enough talent to back them upthats what you should be. And nobody in town knows enough about wizarns to say youre anything more than that.

Kalen had worried that someone in the village would mention his use of cantrips to the sorcerer. He didnt practice them in plain view of others often, but he had a few times. Nanu assured him that reciting an ugly poem to cool off a cup of water on a hot day was far less memorable than he imagined it to be, and nobody would be inclined to bring it up with the sorcerer in everyday conversation.

Kalen wasnt sure why, but he felt hurt by this assessment.

As for the rest of itwell, he did understand what Nanu was going for now that it had been explained to him. It would be easy enough to pretend, though he already resented having to do it. And having to give up his precious practice time hurt worst of all.

The other boys and girls around him whooped and shouted as the fishing boat headed directly for the village beach instead of setting anchor or turning toward the cove where the larger ships docked.

The magicked vessel was capable of some very impossible maneuvers. Heedless of the raging waves, it sailed right up to the beach, and it didnt even run aground when it must have been floating in just a few inches of water.

All the children ran to greet it. Kalen trailed the more athletic ones and ended up arriving at the beach a couple of minutes behind the main group. He stumbled down the steep path with the younger kids, including a sniffling Roa, whod skinned both her hands and knees when she fell in the rush.

Lightning shattered the sky, and Kalen jumped, staring up into the clouds. The break in the rain wouldnt last. They would all be soaking wet soon.

Hemarland always has such delightful weather! said a pleasant, high voice. It was a blizzard for three straight weeks the last time I was here.

Kalen stopped dead, staring at the woman whod spoken. She had just stepped off the boat onto shore. Her long brown hair, free of any braid or tie, whipped around her face in the wind. She was of average heightthough her bearing made her seem tallerand her features were not so much beautiful as they were impeccably presented.

Her robes were foreign garments on Hemarland, but from what little Kalen knew, they were meant to be long and rather shapeless. Hers were tucked and pleated so strategically, Aunt Jayne might well rip them off her and disassemble them for the pattern. The outer fabric was a soft, sunset orange with an inner garment of embroidered pale yellow. And she wore matching slippers that were surely being ruined by the saltwater at this very moment.

She was smiling around at the children and the island and the storm-tossed waves with a baffling sincerity. And as she looked up to where the aurora was little more than a smear of light behind the thick clouds, the smile widened until she was grinning broadly.

Breathtaking, she said in a voice full of passion.

This was High Sorcerer Arlade Glimont.

She was not what Kalen had expected her to be at all. His nightmare version of her had been clawed and fanged and wicked. The more reasonable one he imagined when he was being sensible had been old.

Nanu said she'd been making visits to Hemarland for fifty years! Kalen had thought shed have white hair and wrinkles.

Instead, Arlade Glimont looked around the same age as his mother. Even the creases at the corners of her eyes and the silvery strands mixed amongst the warm brown ones seemed more artful than elderly.

Kalen had also assumed, from the serious way people spoke of her and the fact that she had attained the nearly unimaginable rank of sorcerer, that the woman would be dour and arrogant. But shed just caught sight of Roas bloody knees, and now she was comforting the girl and offering her a thimble-sized jar of some kind of medicinal ointment.

While the other children shoved and chattered and offered to lead Arlade Wizarn back to the village, Kalen stood staring at her, mute and gaping as a fish. Only the sound of a loud splash and an enraged shout snapped him out of it.

A girl had just emerged from the boat. But instead of stepping neatly out onto the shore like Arlade, shed tumbled over the side. She hacked and coughed as she splashed wildly on hands and knees toward the stony beach, weighed down by a sodden, oversized wool coat.

If shed fallen in deeper water, Kalen suspected shed have sunk straight to the bottom.

The girl finally stood up, dripping. With a furious expression on her face, she began to do battle with her wet coat, muttering all the while in an unfamiliar accent. The sorcerer ignored her companion entirely, but the other children on the beach had fallen silent at the sight of her.

Is she a wizarn, too? someone whispered to Kalen.

As if he could tell on sight.

The girl had brown skin and dark gray eyes under thick brows and straight black hair that had been chopped off just below her chin. She was small, and she had delicate facial features save for her nose. As an expert on such matters, Kalen could say with confidence that it was perilously close to piggish.

Her unexpected appearance and the angry sounds she was making caused the other children to draw back from her. So Kalen took it upon himself to walk over and help her out of her drenched garment.

Thank you, she said in a moderately polite voice. But she was shivering and glaring around her like shed like nothing better than to set the whole island on fire. Is it always so cold?

Her consonants were curiously soft and her vowels unusually long. Kalen didnt know enough about the world to place the accent on a map. The sorcerer had an accent, too, but it wasnt so different from Hemarlands as to be remarkable.

Its warm today, Kalen said, confused by the question. Even with the storms.Updated from novelbIn.(c)om

Her face turned even grimmer. Charming.

Lightning struck the sea a few miles out, backlighting the soggy girl so that for a moment she was just a patch of darkness against the blinding light. The sight made Kalen feel strangely nervous.

My names Kalen. He spoke more to cover his confusion than out of any desire to introduce himself to this person.

Im Zevnie. Master Arlades apprentice.

Thunder roared over the water, competing with the crash of the waves. Kalen shivered and tried not to take that as a bad omen.

#

Arlade and Zevnie would stay in the long cabin with Kalens family.

The reasons for this were obvious to everyone in the village. And it was only as various helpful grownups and children were dragging slippery boxes and sodden bags across the threshold, that they all realized the sorcerer herself had never been informed that her accommodations were pre-arranged.

Well be staying in this house, then? she asked, leaning forward to help Kalen lift a small crate full of something that clinked and tinkled unnaturally.

It had rained on them all on the way here. Everyone was wet save the sorcerer herself. As far as Kalen could tell, the woman simply repelled water, like she was covered from head to toe in an invisible layer of wax.

Thus far, Kalen had managed to avoid conversation with Arlade. Now, he blinked at her, uncertain. Umyes, maam. If thats all right?

Well, I do need a bit of indoor space for my experiments, so as long as I have that Im fine anywhere. But usually theres ever so much back and forth when I arrive somewhere with no inn! Who gets to keep the honored sorcerer, you know? Though its been rather more common here in years past for the conversation to center on who has to keep me.

She laughed lightly, as if being either welcome or unwelcome in a place was of little concern to her.

We have extra space here, said Kalen. Because its one of the bigger cabins, and our family isnt the largest.

Oh! So you live here! Well be housemates. She beamed at him, then whispered conspiratorially. I always bring a few extra gifts for my housemates, so youre in luck, young man.

Kalen was content to leave the conversation there for now. He was still off-footed by Arlades appearance and demeanor, and he was even more concerned about the existence of Zevnie. He had worked out how to pretend in front of a grown-up sorcerer who wouldnt be all that interested in him in the first place. Zevnie looked to be his own age, or maybe a touch younger. That made things more complicated. He wanted time to think.

But it wasnt to be.

A chorus of voices chimed in, confirming that this cabin had the most room. They explained that Kalens family was well-off by the standards of the village, and that two of the members were gone on a trip to the continent.

Then someone brought up Shelbas need for a child. And someone else chimed in trying to explain about the special continental pigs. And a third helpful soul, for reasons unfathomable, mentioned Aunt Jaynes deft needlework.

Arlade, who had seemed unflappable until now, suddenly looked a little overwhelmed.

The girl had complained several times about the weather since arriving. Kalen wished shed come in winter so that he could watch her freeze over on the spot.

It will be nice and warm in here, too, she said, staring down at the floor where Kalens heating circle was drawn out in magepaint.

At least it wasnt a suspicious thing for him to have, since Nanu was his teacher.

Zevnie flipped her mattress over with ease, settling it against the wall under the window. Then she wandered back over to the circle. She paced around it, occasionally tapping one of the runes curiously with her bare toes. She wore a set of gold bracelets on one of her ankles, and the charms on them jingled faintly as she walked.

This is the most antiquated heating circle I have ever seen outside of a book, she announced, brushing a strand of black hair out of her eyes. But this is the input point, yes?

She gestured to a particular spot, and Kalen nodded. He was about to tell her, firmly and clearly, to go away. Manners be blown.

But at that moment she reached out with her foot, a faint look of concentration on her face. She slapped it firmly against the proper rune, and in less time than it took for Kalen to draw in a full breath, the circle was glowing dully and radiating heat.

It wasless warm than it would have been if Kalen had done it himself. But

H-how did you do that?

She frowned at him. What do you mean? It is your design. I have only empowered it.

No, said Kalen, awestruck in spite of himself. I meanhow did you do it so fast? Is fire your natural affinity?

Hmmm, she said, turning back toward the mattress and kneeling down to arrange her covers. No, of course not. It was fast, but it was merely an input rune. Its hardly the same as aligning a full spell pattern, is it?

She glanced over her shoulder, looking slightly affronted. I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I hope you do not think me too ill-trained to perform something so basic.

This is my room. Get out. Go sleep in the barn with the pigs.

But Kalen was too embarrassed to say it now.

The heating circle was probably the magical working he had used more often than any other. And it still took him a minute to activate it. Hed thought that was so quick.

Feeling uncomfortable, he settled quietly into his own bedding, trying to ignore the sharp corners of all the books he was lying on top of.

Is this the difference? he wondered as he watched Zevnie make herself at home. Between having training and not?

Kalen hoped so. Because the alternative was worse.

If Zevnie had learned some special trick from her master, that was one thing. Kalen could eventually learn it, too. It was only a matter of time. But if it was something elsewhat if Kalens strangely tangled magic was more of a problem than hed thought?

Im an amphora.

Zevnie had settled right into her bed like she belonged there instead of like she was some terrible interloper. And now she was peering across the glowing heating circle at Kalen and saying strange words.

A what? he asked, when she didnt explain herself any further.

You asked if I was a fire practitioner. I am not. I am an amphora.

Oh. Of course. An amphora. He tried to pronounce the word like she did. With a liquid soft r sound and an m that almost vanished on the lips.

You dont know what it is.

I do. Obviously.

What is it then?

Im sleepy, said Kalen. And youre in my room. So we should rest now.

You are a very immature little boy. How old are you? Eight?

Im ten and a half!

I dont believe you.

How old are you? They were around the same size, so she couldnt be older. Kalen hoped she was a year younger so that he could lord his age over her at least.

Im fourteen.

Liar.

Well, she allowed, I will be fourteen in a couple of weeks. I think. Master and I have been traveling so much that I havent kept track as well as I might have.

You are short, said Kalen, trying to make it sound like a devastating insult.

Youre one to talk, she said mildly. I have a sister your age. I have not seen her in over a year, but I am sure she was bigger than you when I left her. And, for your information, an amphora is a practitioner who specializes in intaking and maintaining unusually large reserves of internal magic. I know you dont know what one is because there arent any apart from my family. Now go to sleep. I am sure it is past your bedtime.

Kalen almost choked on his own irritation.

# Zevnie #

Late that night, after the boy had finally drifted off, Zevnies eyes snapped open.

Annoying, she thought, staring at his still figure. Unfortunate.

She stopped herself just short of thinking the word dangerous.

It was an overstatement, but it hovered stubbornly at the edge of her mind. For a moment, Master Arlade had been interested in the little enchanter from this frigid, nothing place. And though that terrifying moment had passed quickly, Zevnie saw something in the boy that still troubled her.

What?

She didnt know.

Kalen seemed like an average child from a backwards village. One whod obviously grown big-headed because he had a tiny bit of power he barely knew how to use. Zevnie had seen him do no impressive magic. Hed even gawked pitifully at her speed with the heating circle, which was strange, but not worrying.

But there was something

She couldnt place it.

Zevnie had been deliberately needling the boy when she asked if he was eight. She had actually thought he was closer to her own age, though it was hard to put her finger on why with all evidence pointing to the contrary. With dark golden curls, wide brown eyes, and a resting expression that hovered between sulky and mournful, Kalen looked a bit babyish.

Hed even acted babyish. Briefly. Zevnie had definitely seen a tear trickle down his cheek when he accused her of being mean.

Had that been on purpose? She thought it might have.

He doesnt match up to himself, she decided. His looks said one thing. His mouth another. His actions a third.

And the pattern of this heating circleZevnie couldnt stop admiring it.

It was simple and old-fashioned, but the paint had been applied so meticulously. Not a stroke was out of place. There wasnt even a drop outside the lines. It reminded her of her grandmothers elegant arrays.

What kind of baby worked with such precision? For that matter, what kind of ten-year-old child did?

The dangerous kind.

Zevnie sighed. Master Arlade hated this part of herthe suspicious, grasping part that would accept no competition. But it would hardly disappear just because it was hated by an outsider. Zevnie herself appreciated the caution it gave her...and the reminder that she couldnt be careless when she was out in the wide world beyond her clan house on Makeeran.

She refused to take anything for granted. But she did force herself to roll over so that she wouldnt glare a hole in the center of Kalens forehead.

She couldnt cause trouble here. Not when her master was planning to stay for some weeks yet. Maybe even longer since these people were hoping for a miracle pregnancy.

That was strange in and of itself.

Perhaps they thought her master was a healer? Arlade Glimont wasnt known as such. In some parts of the world, her reputation was quite the opposite. But Zevnie had been surprised that shed brought along so many giftsmostly healing potionsfor these islanders. Perhaps it was a natural misunderstanding if shed done that in the past?

It wasnt like she couldnt heal minor injuries. Arlade had a nearly unparalleled understanding of the human body, so there was a chance shed be able to give them what they wanted. And shed try of course, as long as it wasnt too much trouble.

Zevnies master had a surprising tender spot for non-practitioners, especially folk like this who were so far removed from the magical world that they didnt understand anything.

So they would be staying a while. And Zevnie would have to befriend Kalen, son of Jorn. She would stick to him like devils honey no matter how much he squawked or squalled or accused her ofmeanness.

It was the only way to be sure. And being sure was the only way Zevnie would ever accomplish her goals.