Omar finished making the beds while she detangled her hair. Smiling at her as he passed, he pulled out his instrument. Varisha took the brush from the girl and stepped out onto the back of the wagon to clean the bristles.
When she came back in, she indicated the clothes and said, “All of these should fit you, jameel.” Not all of the outfits were dresses; some were astonishingly baggy pants that bloused at the bottoms. “Choose whichever you want, or take all of them. It’s up to you.”
Samara picked out one of the outfits. She slipped into the flowing pants, marveling at how they still looked like a dress when she stood with her legs together. Picking up the other piece of the outfit, she stared at it incredulously. The sleeves were the only part of the garment she could recognize; otherwise, it just looked like a piece of cloth. “How do I wear this?” she asked Varisha, holding it up.
Varisha laughed. She flipped the top around Samara’s back so she could get her arms in the sleeves. After wrapping the hanging front pieces around her, Varisha turned her around and tied the shirt in the back.
The top displayed her belly and lower back. Lifting her arms, she observed the sleeves drooping over her wrists and widening at the ends. Hopping on her toes, she smiled at Varisha, who was busy picking up the rest of Samara’s new clothes. “Do you like them, jameel?”
“Yes, thank you,” Samara said, admiring her new appearance. “But won’t we get cold?”
“We’re not on the plains,” Varisha said, chuckling. When she picked up the robe she had lent Samara, the kukri fell to the floor with a clatter. Samara went to pick it up, but the Khaliji woman beat her to it. “Wow, this is beautiful. Where did you get it?” Varisha asked, examining the blade.
“My father made it,” Samara told her.
“The blue tint is lovely,” Varisha said, running her fingers across the steel. Omar walked over to see the knife. Blushing, Samara lowered her gaze. Varisha examined her face, one eyebrow raised, and asked, “Do you know how he colored the blade?”
For once, Samara didn’t need to lie. She answered, “I don’t know.”
Handing the blade back to the girl, Varisha asked, “Do you mind if we show it to Badr Al’din? I was going to take you to visit with him anyway.”
Yes, yes, you do mind, Illtud piped in. He doesn’t need to see.
“Why not?” Samara asked him.
“Good,” Varisha said, unaware that the girl had been speaking to someone else.
Samara gasped, her eyes widening, and covered her mouth, just as Illtud said, Now you’ve done it.
Giving Samara an inquisitive look, Varisha asked, “Did I misunderstand?”
If he’s a mage, he’ll be able to detect me, Illtud told her.
Samara responded with a shake of her head. What do I do? she asked.
Tell her no, he said.
“No,” Samara said.
Varisha smiled and said, “Well alright, I’ll take you to see him when the caravan stops at midday.”
She doesn’t understand what you mean. She thinks you’re telling her that it’s alright to show him. Explain that you don’t want to, Illtud said.
“I mean I don’t want to show my knife,” Samara said. She stared at Varisha’s sandals, avoiding eye contact.
“Oh? But it’s so beautiful.” She studied the girl for a few uneasy seconds. “I don’t understand, why wouldn’t you want to?”
Why is she so persistent? Illtud complained.
“I don’t know,” Samara said, continuing to avoid eye contact.
“Well, I’ll leave it up to you,” Varisha said. She picked up the rest of Samara’s new clothes and put them in a little drawer below the couch, removing a bundle of clothing to make room. Seeing Samara’s interest in them, Varisha said, “These were Omar’s clothes when he was younger. I will put them in the storage area below the wagon for now.”
The rest of the day was fairly peaceful, and Varisha didn’t ask about the dagger again. The ride consisted of the Khaliji singing and playing games, and Samara showing them more of her simple magic.
Varisha had started talking to her in Havallan, then repeating it in Vohen. A quick learner, she could say a few words by the time the caravan stopped at midday.
When the wagon came to a halt, Varisha said, “Ah good, it’s time to eat. You’ll get to meet more of our troupe, too. Come.” She grabbed a few food items from the cupboards and held the door open for Samara and Omar to exit. The wagons stopped in a manmade clearing that extended from the road in a semicircle. The trees continued down a steep slope after that.
Samara watched from the wagon porch as the Khaliji prepared a fire pit. Varisha stepped past her down the stairs, carrying provisions to Heyam, who was prepping food by the fire. Samara followed close behind her. Her new outfit did nothing against the crisp mountain air, so she rubbed her arms, trying to stay warm.
Heyam smiled at her. “You fit right in with your new clothes, jameel.” He pointed with his bushy eyebrows to her bags on the ground next to him. “You left those in my wagon.”
Picking them up, she said, “Thank you, sayedi,” using the formal term for a man.
Heyam’s eyes widened as much as his smile. “You’re learning Havallan quickly. Good.”
Putting her hand on Samara’s back, Varisha said, first in Havallan, then in Vohen, “Come, Samara. Let’s go see Badr Al’din.”
She followed Varisha and Omar to the last wagon. Although various carved creatures crouched on the roofs of many Khaliji carriages, the four bronze statues on each corner of this one looked different than the others. To Samara, they seemed like strange birdmen with wings and immense, bulbous eyes, much like those of an insect. They stared down at her menacingly.
Finding them intriguing, she pointed and asked, “What are those?” She had a strange feeling of familiarity with the statues, although she had never seen one in her life.
“Those, Samara, are in the likeness of efreets. We put the gargoyles above the wagons to scare away the evil spirits, and nothing is more terrifying than an efreet,” Varisha said, not bothering to say it in Havallan first, except for the words that the nomads didn’t use, such as “efreet.”
Shivering, Samara followed the Khaliji into the wagon.
When they had gone to Heyam’s, Varisha and Omar had just walked in. Not so at the healer’s wagon. Stepping up to the door, Varisha knocked and waited. Moving close to the bottom step, Samara smelled a musty stench, and when the door opened, a much stronger scent wafted out.
Badr Al’din stepped out, a grin partially hidden under his thick, tightly curled, salt-and-pepper beard. He wore a white robe with a red sun embroidered onto its left breast. His new garb made her feel nervous.
The adults exchanged words, then Varisha repeated them in Vohen for Samara’s benefit. “She would like to show you what she knows about medicine and magic.” The two of them exchanged words again. The dark man smiled and stepped out of the way to let them enter.
Varisha walked inside, but Samara stayed at the bottom of the steps. She felt uncomfortable going into the man’s wagon when, not long ago, she had killed many men dressed like this one. However, he stood waiting, and that was just as unnerving.
His large eyes bored into her. Standing on one foot, she rotated her other in the dirt behind her. Using one of the words she had learned, the man said, smiling, “Hurry up.” Slowly at first, she walked up the steps, then rushed by him as she drew close.
The inside of the wagon was cluttered with all manner of objects. Some of the lower drawers that lay open contained clay pots. Leather separated the pots so that they wouldn’t bang together during travel. Items were crammed into the open cupboards, seemingly at random. Stacks of paper, held down by several mortars and pestles, covered the counter.
Badr closed the door behind her. The two adults conversed, and Samara went to the couch, where she sat on a small section next to Omar. She could make out a few words, but not enough to understand what they were talking about.
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She’s telling him about your dagger. If he casts the spell to see magic, he’ll see me, Illtud said.
Why shouldn’t he see you? she asked.
Only the rarest of items have a blue aura, and it means that the item is possessed of a living spirit. If he saw it, he would soon discover that I’m an elf, and either try to destroy the item or take control of me. If he takes control of me, he can use my power, and that could be bad, Illtud explained.
Feeling the power stirring, she could see Badr summoning his energy. Illtud said, He’s casting it. He’s trying to see magic.
Samara closed her eyes and drew upon her own magic, then combined it with some excess from the foliage outside to envelop Illtud’s essence in a cocoon of power. She could feel his spirit connected to the facets of the gem by tiny tendrils of powerful magic. She understood that she could easily yank Illtud from the gem, but that severing the tendrils would kill him.
Instead, she created a duplicate of the stone, made of pure energy and invisible to all but her. She attached each tendril to her copy one at a time, then moved the replica into one of the gargoyles outside. You can’t do this. Wait. What did you do? Illtud said, panic edging his voice.
I moved you, she told him. Reaching down, she pulled out her knife.
Illtud said, You can’t move me, that’s impossible . . .
Blocking the elf from her mind, Samara stood up to attract the attention of the adults. They glanced at her, and she handed Badr the knife. He took it, his blue aura mingling with its red glow. He smiled down at her and said, “Shukra’an.”
She stood dumbstruck after he grabbed the knife. Panicked, she asked Illtud, What do I do? He’s going to see my red aura.
Well, depending on how powerful a mage he is, you might can cast an obfuscation spell, erm, a spell to make him see what you want him to see, similar to an illusion. However, a skilled mage can see through obfuscations and illusions, Illtud said. I have no doubt you could cast such a spell. In fact, I wish you had done that instead of moving me out of the gem.
Sorry, she replied, then considered the spell she needed to cast. After a time she said, I’m not sure how to do that.
Allow me, Illtud said. Command me to do it, and I shall.
Are you going to make him do something he doesn’t want to do? she asked.
No, I’ll only make him see what I want him to see, Illtud responded.
Alright. Do it, she said.
Illtud chuckled and Samara watched as tendrils of his aura wormed their way into Badr’s head. The way the spell mingled with the priest’s mind appeared intrusive.
I don’t like it, she said. Take it back.
I’ll drop the spell as soon as his ends. I promise it won’t hurt him, and the only effect it will have is that he’ll see your aura as the blue aura of an apprentice, Illtud assured her.
Samara grimaced.
After Badr finished his spell, which took him several minutes longer than it should have, due to her interruption. Then he turned the blade over in his hands, rubbing a finger over the engravings on the ivory handle. He spent some time examining the blade.
Watching, Samara grew bored. She glanced about the wagon. Occasionally, Badr would cast another spell, piquing her interest, but after several times of this, she ignored the entire process.
Meanwhile, Varisha made herself busy cleaning up some of Badr’s mess, and Omar helped. They didn’t talk, because they didn’t want to interrupt the man.
Organizing some of the items on the counter, Samara noted that Badr’s quarters reminded her of Sigmia’s. However, Badr’s objects seemed useless, just a bunch of curiosities like jars of salt, animal parts, and small fetishes.
“Ah,” Badr said, and Samara glanced at him nervously. He still seemed oblivious to her red aura, indicating that Illtud’s spell had worked. The dark man mumbled some words, casting another spell. She didn’t know what the spell was, but she could see that it used the magic in the kukri. Not for the first time, she wondered how her knife had gained its red aura.
The curved steel burst into a cool, blue flame, and everyone gasped while Badr chuckled. Although fire danced around the blade, the room felt chilled. Badr took a log from a pile he kept near his stove. Placing it on his counter, he pressed the knife into the wood, and it cut through as if slicing cheese.
When he repeated the words he had mumbled to ignite the blade, the flames receded. He attempted to cut through the log again, but only succeeded in putting a tiny notch in the wood.
Wide-eyed, Samara picked up the discarded half of the log. The part that the knife had touched appeared burnt but felt cold, and tiny crystals of ice had formed along it. Varisha reached for it, and the girl handed it to her. With eyes as wide as Samara’s, she ran her fingers across the polished edge. Her fingers came back wet.
Badr said something to Samara, and Varisha translated. “You did not know it could do this?” Varisha placed the log back into the pile, where Badr had put the other half. He handed the knife back to Samara.
“No,” Samara said. She held the knife in front of her face and emulated the magic that Badr had cast, but she didn’t have to say anything. The blue flames flared back to life on the blade.
Badr stepped back, and Varisha and Omar gasped again. After seeing their reactions, Samara quickly withdrew the magic, the flames receding once more.
Badr started speaking excitedly. Varisha turned to him, and a smile formed on her face. When he stopped talking, she turned to Samara and said, “Badr Al’din said it would be his pleasure if you were to accept a position as his apprentice. It seems you have impressed him.”
Illtud spoke up. You must be careful. I doubt there’s much this man can teach you. From now on, pretend like you’re just learning anything he shows you. You want to seem like a beginner. Otherwise, you’ll scare them, he explained.
Putting the dagger away, Samara asked, “How did that happen?”
With Varisha translating, Badr asked, “You mean you do not know?” Shaking her head, Samara dropped her eyes, afraid they might see the lie on her face. “I do not know how you accomplished it, but I had to cast a spell to reveal a command word to activate the magic.”
Badr walked to the stove while he talked. Varisha gazed at him when he spoke, then at Samara while she translated. “You must be attuned to the blade somehow.” Throwing a log into the stove, he continued, “Obviously, you have a knack for magic, and I will show you how to use it.”
“Alright,” Samara said. He shot her a big grin, and she looked down again. Removing her bag from her shoulder, she held it out for Varisha. “What about this?”
Varisha took the bag and passed it to Badr, who peeked inside. “These will be useful. You will learn that magic can do most of what these plants can do, but this is priceless knowledge. Do you know what they’re for?”
A glint in her eye, Samara started her mantra concerning her herbal knowledge. After she had described a handful of herbs and their uses, Badr chuckled. “Good!” he interrupted. “What a treasure you have found, Varisha.” Varisha smiled and pet the girl’s head affectionately while she translated this.
Passing the bag back to Samara, Badr stood up straight and scrutinized the state of his wagon. “Well, if that will be all . . .” Varisha stopped translating and said something to him. Stepping over to the door, he opened it, and responded to her.
“Come, Samara, he wants you back tomorrow. He said he will start showing you simple cantrips, or tricks, but he would like you to learn more of the language first. I will give you lessons in Havallan in the mornings, and he will show you his arts in the evenings while we travel to our next stop, Najran.”
“Shukra’an,” Samara said to Badr, who rewarded her with a smile, and then she followed Varisha and Omar down the steps. Glancing toward the top of the wagon, Samara could see Illtud’s aura engulfing one of the gargoyles. She moved him back to the gem.
Thank you, that was painful. Vessels such as the gem are specially pre
pared through ritual, and I don’t think I could have survived for long like that. Regardless, good work, Illtud said. You made some mistakes, but you handled that situation very well. Just be more careful when you’re with that man.
Alright, Samara said. I don’t like that spell you cast on Badr though. It was wrong.
I will respect that, he said. But it was necessary. Besides, I can’t do it without your permission. Maybe you should leave the knife behind when you’re working with him.
She followed Varisha and Omar over to the campfire. She watched the two of them talking to each other affectionately, and she smiled. Suddenly, she felt a pang for her mother and father, and wished they could be with her.
Her two friends walked over to where many of the Khaliji gathered. As she watched them laughing and joking with the others, she was reminded of the times she had spent with her own tribe. Every evening, she had gathered around a fire with her friends and family: Sigmia, Karena, Alfan, and all the rest. Never again would she have that with them.
She gulped down the tears starting to form, as Heyam handed her a bowl of soup. Sitting next to Omar, she quietly ate. When Omar finished his meal, he smiled at her and reached for the barbat he had laid next to his chair and started playing.
Walking over, Varisha sat next to the her and started eating. Soon, Samara’s melancholy lifted as others began to perform, and she had her first real glimpse of what her life was going to be like for the months ahead.
Chapter 16: Nikolai
Stepping off the road, Zayra watched a group of wagons roll back onto the path. She had encountered very few humans while traveling, and those she had passed had run and hid from her. When she had entered human settlements, she had used magic to stay hidden or disguised, or she had circumvented them all together. This was a more substantial group of humans, so she thought it might be prudent to hide while passing them.
Standing next to a tree, she whispered the arcane words to a spell, her arms circling wildly over her head, her skin and clothing slowly altering to emulate the foliage behind her. The rough bumps on the trunk dug into her back, and she shifted uncomfortably. To onlookers, it would appear that the tree had shimmered, but only if they looked closely. Once her spell finished, she continued forward, her appearance transforming to flawlessly mimic the plants behind her as she passed.
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