An Unexpected Apprentice

by Jody Lynn Nye

  “Now, my lords, imagine if that had been a human being or a centaur.” The room fell silent.

  “One could kill, if you knew the glyph for a certain person,” Balindor said.

  “One could kill millions, without knowing who was whom,” Olen pointed out.

  “So, are we waiting for the end of the world?” Magpie asked.

  “It’s possible.” Olen looked grave. “We must consider that such an outcome is possible.”

  Instead of being concerned, the young man grinned. “That’s what you wizards always say. Doom and gloom and destruction.”

  Halcot turned a florid face to the minstrel. “You are irreverent, boy. Save your mountebank antics for an audience chamber or a music hall. If you were my son, I’d thrash you.”

  “Probably,” the lad agreed, crossing his boots insouciantly. Tildi kept her face from changing, but she expected that the bard knew what was in her mind. If she lifted her eyes he grinned directly at her.

  “Oh, stop, highness, he’s winding you up like a clock,” Edynn said, tossing her handsome waves of silver hair. “Impudent boy. If I were a hundred years younger …”

  “If you were,” Magpie said, with interest growing in his yellow-green eyes, “we could save the world together without all of these old men.”

  Her daughter looked from one to the other and made a horrified noise.

  Edynn gave him an indulgent glance, and turned back to the matter at hand. “Olen, you must have a plan of action, or you would not have called us here.”

  “I have. I suggest a many-pronged attack. Most of you”—Olen gestured at the visitors—“will go home and mount a lookout for the thief. Be vigilant for reports of any unusual occurrences. Your wizards will be able to tell the difference between an ordinary magical outbreak and the passage of the book. Others, like myself, will continue our vision searches, through crystals, mirrors, and other philosophical devices. Yet, we must have some who will set out and look for signs of the book’s whereabouts and pursue the thief to his lair. As you have seen, it cannot pass invisibly. Ideally, then, the book will be wrested away from that person, whomsoever it may be, and I am making it sound vastly easier than it will be, and placed back in a hiding place, with the best protection that we in these later days can muster, which yet a further group must prepare. Some of you in this room have been enemies in the past. I tell you that it is imperative that you should put aside old disagreements, in the name of our world’s very survival. I can put it no stronger than that.”

  A few of the people glanced at one another, and exchanged curt nods.

  Tildi, who was no student of history outside of the Quarters, wondered what Olen meant. Perhaps one day she would have time to learn more about it.

  Masawa cleared his throat. “I notice, my old friend, that there are no representatives here from the Scholardom.”

  “Who?” Tildi couldn’t help herself. Everyone looked at her. She blushed. She was forgetting herself. She would never have made such an outburst at a meeting. The scholar smiled at her. He did not seem to mind.

  “It is an order of knights who have sworn themselves to the protection of the Great Book. They are very learned, and train themselves to the very peak of physical perfection so that they can serve it if it should come to them. I would have thought that you would have enlisted their help immediately when you learned of this theft, Olen.”

  “I am afraid,” Olen said, “that we and the Scholardom would work at cross-purposes. I do not speak against them or their philosophy, though I do not agree with it. They would not see the urgency, as we do, of putting it immediately out of reach of the curious. I have broached the matter, in a subtle way, with an abbot of the order. In a hypothetical manner, of course. He became very enthusiastic on the subject, putting forth all manner of schemes to use it to correct ‘aberrations of nature,’ as their doctrine states it.”

  This phrase provoked an outburst from the centaurs and werewolf contingent.

  Olen held up his hands for silence. “In other words, to let it fall into their hands would be to compound the problem. At present we believe that there is only one thief. We do not know who he or she is.” He held up a hand to forestall another outburst from Edynn. “The fact that this thief has not immediately begun to use the book suggests that he or she has a purpose in taking it. Therefore we are under two constraints instead of one. We must find the thief before his or her purpose is set into motion, and we must keep this knowledge, and the book itself, from falling into the possession of the Scholardom. The second is by far the easier of the two, since all it requires is keeping our own counsel regarding what it is we seek. Alas, it is inevitable that the Scholardom will learn of our search, but I hope that by then we will have already accomplished our goal.”

  “Very well,” Edynn said, standing up. “You need a party to seek out the thief. I will lead it. Who will go with me?”

  Hands went up all over the room. Olen looked pleased. “I am gratified at your offer of service. Edynn, I believe you have your pick.”

  Tildi had been thinking hard since Olen had shocked her with the truth of her people’s history. Like the werewolves, she did not want to believe it. How awful it was even to think that their ancestors were not truly smallfolk. She did not want to be the product of a curious wizard’s experiment. She wanted things to be the way she had always believed, that smallfolk had been brought into existence at the beginning of all things by Mother Nature and Father Time. How horrified the elders would be to discover that their family tree might in truth be a tree. Only the ridiculousness of the notion allowed her to consider it without going mad. She hoped that the thief would indeed prove to be one of the immortal Shining Ones. She wanted to ask him very seriously what on earth he could have been thinking!

  She had more to consider following the demonstration of the candle, and King Halcot’s injury touching the page that her family had cherished for years. What harm the original, whole book could cause! It had killed so many beings, directly or indirectly. The cattle were only the latest victims. Still, she had a feeling that the chances were good that if she could handle the one, she could also manage the other, and spare injury to the very brave people who were putting themselves at risk, for the world’s sake. She also felt that she owed something to the memory of her brothers, who had sacrificed themselves to save the other villagers that bleak day. It was in her nature to be useful. Here was a job that possibly only she was capable of. To offer her services was the least that she could do.

  With regrets for the soft bed, daily baths, and regular meals, she put her hand up, too. It started trembling. Firmly she quashed her fears and held it steady with the other hand. Olen turned to her.

  “Tildi,” he said with infinite gentleness, “you do not have to volunteer for this task.”

  “Master, I do,” Tildi insisted. Now that she had made the resolution, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. It took a good deal of courage to defy her master, but she must. She put both hands on his knee, and looked up at him, trying to find the best words to express what she needed to say. “You said that a wizard does what needs to be done. I don’t want to leave here. I have been very happy, and you have been the best teacher I could imagine, but if I am the only one who can carry this book without pain, then I should go with Edynn.”

  Olen shook his head. “Tildi, there are other means to convey it to its next hiding place. Edynn and Serafina are as capable as I at levitating it.”

  Tildi felt a surge of desperation. He couldn’t be refusing to let her go! “But what if they can’t? What if … if they have to take it away from the one who’s got it? What if he won’t let it go? I can do that. I will do it.”

  It was the least of reasons, filled with speculation, but Olen nodded, as if he could see what was in her heart. “Very well, Tildi. I honor your resolve.” He raised his voice. “Nobles, ladies and gentlemen, I would go on this mission myself, but I am needed to help hold this city together if all thin
gs begin to crumble. Instead, I will send my new apprentice, Tildi.”

  Balindor sprang to his feet. “You’re joking. A smallfolk? You should not be going,” he told her directly. “Someone of rank ought to join this party. Someone who is trained to attack and defend! She will be helpless. You will not go, girl. I will.”

  Tildi quailed.

  Olen tut-tutted and dropped a confident hand on her shoulder. “Do not think to order my apprentice around, highness, no matter what rank you hold.”

  “Why should she not go?” Edynn asked. “At present her reasons are better than yours, Balindor. She can see the signs. She has a sensitivity to the Great Book, which may be useful later on. She may not be able to wield a sword, but she is Olen’s student. She is probably very learned in magic. I am glad to have her.” Edynn gave Tildi a welcoming smile.

  “How much magic could she know?” Balindor asked peevishly. “I thought you said she’d only been here weeks. You need someone strong. And big. No offense to you, smallfolk dame, but your size is against you in a test of force.”

  “This is not a matter for swords, my lord prince,” Olen said patiently. “There is danger, of course, and I honor Tildi for offering to place herself in its way. It is no easy thing for me to send her, or to refuse you. Many others are perhaps as qualified as yourself to accompany Edynn, but you are needed at home. Who else but your family has the authority to call for searches in your realm? That is very important, more important than whether my apprentice has spent enough time with me to have learned magic.”

  “Yes, and perhaps I can teach her some along the way,” Edynn added, with a sly look at Olen. “And she’s got to learn magic somewhere, not as a side subject she picks up in between taking notes and washing floors.”

  “I do not make her wash floors,” Olen snorted. “That’s all her own doing. Buzz, buzz, buzz! I can’t make her stop. I’ve never had an apprentice before who wasn’t bone lazy. She’s relentlessly tidy. It’ll be peaceful to have you take her away with you. You may not thank me later.”

  He stood up. “My lords and ladies, let us adjourn for refreshment, and we can discuss who else will go with Edynn, and who will coordinate other watches after we have had a rest.”

  But no one else wanted to stop the discussion.

  “Well, if Tildi is going, then I am going with her, and that is final,” Lakanta announced. “Someone needs to take care of this child.”

  “What about your customers?” Magpie asked.

  “Oh, I can find customers galore to sell and buy along the road. But hold, if anyone is going to the west, will you leave a message in Larch-brake for my cousin Dohondas to let him know I’m going out and about? He’ll tell all my regulars for me—and doubtless steal them from me while I’m gone, faithless brat.”

  This last accusation raised a general chuckle.

  “I will, Lakanta,” a brown-skinned man in an ochre-colored coat said.

  “Thank you, Sayrewald.”

  “But is this a journey for a mere peddler?” Merricot asked, horrified by the exchange.

  “It’s a journey for the sake of us all,” Edynn assured them solemnly. “I will need more help than this if we are the ones who corner our thief.”

  “What about me?” Magpie asked. “May I be one of this party? I can handle a sword, and I can be entertaining along the way.”

  “No,” Olen insisted, “you’ve got to go back to the northeast and warn the lords and wizards in Orontae and Levrenn.”

  “Orontae still has no wizard,” Magpie said.

  Olen nodded. “Ah, you’re right. I forgot. Be discreet. Yes, tell them to expect the end of the world. In the meanwhile we will study and scry to discover how to recover and reseal the book in its tomb even if we have to fight a Maker to do so.”

  Merricot bowed to Edynn, and mockingly to Tildi. “You may count upon me for aid in any way possible. If our paths cross again, I am at your service.”

  “And mine,” Balindor said, rising.

  “And mine,” Lindora added, with a graceful nod.

  “I speak for Ivirenn,” Cadwallan said. “Our strength is yours, should you need it.”

  “Someone of royal blood ought to go,” King Halcot said.

  “To do what?” Serafina asked, with a disapproving frown.

  Halcot sputtered at the thought that anyone might question him. “Why, to protect you all. To take the book back to where it ought to go.”

  “We thank you for your offer, highness,” Edynn said, with a graceful bow, “but this task is better taken in secret, not where we must go heralded by an entourage to prevent anyone from facing you. The delay might alert our quarry. You would not want that.”

  “Besides, my lord,” Olen added, “strong leadership will be needed in your realm, should the book pass that way. Do not underestimate the value of the intelligence you can send back to us.”

  “I’ll send my guards, then,” Halcot insisted. “This little lass is valuable, if anything you said is true. If she offers any hope to help put the world back the way it ought to be. Captain Teryn, stand!”

  A guard in helmet and supple silver mail sprang from near the wall where Halcot’s contingent had been standing, and marched to the king’s side.

  “Sire,” Captain Teryn said, in a clear, high voice. Tildi realized that the captain, fully as tall as the king, was a woman.

  “You will accompany these people where they go. Travel in their company. Serve them as you would me. Take anyone you wish to aid you.”

  “As you will it, sire,” the captain said, raising her hand in a salute.

  Halcot turned back to Olen. “Then, what may I do, to raise ‘intelligence’ as you put it?”

  “We don’t want to cause panic,” Olen said, “but word must be spread to stop the one who has the book. Put out word that an item of magical significance was stolen; that much is true and will be undeniable, once runes are spotted. We don’t know where he is going, or what his aim is. We’re blind, and we must go back to the only clues we have, such as the runes that Tildi saw along her road. If you hear rumors of such things, then send them to me. I will see that they reach Edynn. We must find out where he—”

  “Or she,” Serafina insisted.

  “Or she,” Olen echoed with a smile, “is going.”

  “Hmph,” the king snorted. “If I was in the shoes, or fins, or talons, of someone carrying an object that everyone sought, I’d be heading where I felt safe.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “It is decided, then,” Olen said, holding a scrap of parchment aloft before the assembled guests. “The number of this company will be seven. The wizard Edynn shall lead it. You have known of her of old. She is a most powerful and wise woman. Her daughter, Serafina, will accompany her.”

  Tildi glanced at the young woman, who stood looking balefully at the others as if daring them to disagree. She seemed to have the liveliest disapproval of anyone questioning her mother’s judgment.

  “King Halcot of Rabantae has offered the services of his captain of guards, Teryn, and one of her soldiers, Morag, as protectors on this expedition.” Olen waved a hand at the side of the room. Teryn stood straight as a die, but Morag slouched so much that Tildi could not see the face under the long, straggly hair that peeked out from under the round etal cap and coif. “Edynn has also accepted Lakanta’s offer to come along.”

  “I might be of some use,” the peddler said with a cheerful smile. “I can mend things, and I can trade for what we’ll need.”

  “She also welcomes Rin, sister of the Meadowlord, Lowan.”

  “I can intercede with those people who do not approve of humankind,” Rin said, to the annoyance of the nobles present. “I wish to protect the interests of all nonhumans. I am an excellent tracker. Show me the signs to follow, and our thief will not escape us, I promise.”

  “And finally,” Olen said, putting a hand on the head of his apprentice, “Tildi.”

  A good deal of murmuring accompanied her nominat
ion, but no one demurred after the demonstration of the page.

  Most of the others who wished to go protested at limiting the number of the company to seven. Every one of the scholars had wanted to be part of the group. The danger did not deter them. The chance to see the Great Book for themselves removed all fear. As for the discomfort and privation of the journey, one had said, only half-humorously, no one could live in more penurious conditions than a lifetime student. The warriors had argued that they were not troubled by the danger of the journey, and they ought to be considered for the honor of the task. The werewolf lord had also wanted to come for the same reasons as Rin. The elves conferred for a long while before finally suggesting two of their number. Edynn had turned them all down. They could not conceal how miffed they were that they were not chosen.

  Tildi ate a meal that she did not taste, served by hands she did not see, as she listened, half in a dream, to the voices around her.

  You volunteered for an adventure, her own inner voice said accusingly, breaking into her thoughts. Tildi tried to ignore it. Were you so comfortable that you want to go back to sleeping outside? You could have spent the rest of your life here. Olen would never turn you away.

  It has to be done, she told herself.

  But by you?

  The more she thought about it, the more she realized that yes, it did. She had never shirked an honest task because it seemed too hard. If she needed help, she would ask for it. In the meanwhile, she had a skill that these educated, powerful folk did not. They needed her. They do, she told that doubting voice firmly. I will go.

  After that, she listened to no more of the inner grumbling. There was too much to be done. She would have to pack, not that she had much to take away with her.

  “Tildi, is it?” Lists forgotten, she looked up at the sound of her name to see the minstrel. He dropped down on the bench beside her. “I’m Magpie. I have been in your homeland many times.”