The Child Prince (The Artifactor)

by Honor Raconteur

  “Alright.” He dabbed at the sweat at his temples, struggling to follow as the man cut through the crowd and to the side of the street. Strange, how hot it felt in here. And he found it harder and harder to breathe, too. Two steps further and he lost sight of Morgan completely. In this eight year old body, everyone stood at least head and shoulders taller than he did, and others seemed to tower over him like giants. He couldn’t begin to find Morgan in the crowd and calling out to him proved completely useless. His voice simply didn’t have the volume necessary to drown out the merchants.

  Perhaps if he could fight his way through to the stall itself, he could find Morgan there. Determined, he tried moving forward once more, but without Morgan in front of him, he couldn’t make any progress. The force of the bodies around him sent him stumbling back and spinning.

  Too close. Tooclosetooclosetooclose. The world spun around him in a dizzying sea of colors and faces. Bellomi fumbled, nearly tripping over himself as he lost all sense of direction. How did he get out of here? How did he even get into this crowd? Desperate and panicked, he struck out blindly and used his hands to force a path through. Or at least, he tried to. But a child’s body didn’t have enough strength to push aside two adults, and his attempt failed abruptly as he body checked into a towering man.

  “Hey, whatcha think you’re doing, kid?” a deep voice boomed out.

  Bellomi flinched from him, one arm coming up instinctively to hide his face, but he didn’t stop. He had to get out of here. He had to get out now. He couldn’t breathe. He kept drawing in large quantities of air, mouth wide open, but even then he gasped for breath. He half-ran forward again, only to ram into something else just as solid as the other man, the wool fabric of his pants scratching Bel’s face slightly on impact. Wheeling, he turned again, barely keeping his feet as he spun.

  “Let me through!” a female voice called out, exasperated. “You idiots, don’t you see that he’s shaking?”

  In the next second, two arms wrapped around his waist and lifted him up in the air, a wave of silky hair against his cheek. “Hang on to me,” that same clear, female voice said in his ear. “I’ll get you out of here.”

  Desperate, he clung to her, both hands clenching in the collar of her dress. He felt people brushing up against him on either side, sometimes almost painfully so, but he kept his eyes closed and kept praying.

  As fast as the crowd had closed in around him, he escaped it again into free air. The woman who held him didn’t immediately put him down, but walked several more paces and climbed up onto a wooden porch of some sort, as it made a hollow echo as she stepped across. Only then did she kneel down and set him gently back on his feet.

  Through sheer willpower, he unclenched his hands and took a half step back, body still trembling in aftershock. In something of a daze, he looked up at his rescuer.

  A woman near his real age looked down at him in blatant worry. She wore a grey dress with no frills, blond hair pinned up in a soft bun, framing a heart shaped face. She was quite pretty, really.

  “Breathe,” she said soothingly, rubbing a hand in a small circle on his back. “Just breathe. You’re fine.”

  That warm hand on the center of his back felt ridiculously comforting. His chest still vibrated under the force of his fears, but as he listened to her voice, and focused on her hand, he felt the panic fade.

  “Alright now?” she asked him in a soft tone.

  Not by half, but he could feel the trembling easing as time passed, and he no longer felt like he was suffocating. He took in a deep, shaking breath and managed a nod at her. “My thanks.”

  “What happened?” she asked, still worried. “And where are your parents?”

  He in no way wanted to even attempt to answer that second question so he focused on the first. “I couldn’t breathe. There were too many people and they were almost crushing me.”

  She grimaced. “Yes, market days are rather like that. But why are you alone?”

  “I’m not,” he assured her. “I, um, lost my companion in the crowd.”

  “Companion?” she repeated with an odd look on her face.

  He abruptly remembered Morgan’s advice from earlier, to speak with more simplicity, and not like the twenty-one year old he actually was. Mentally scrambling, he hastily added, “He’s my master’s friend. He came in with me to the village.”

  “Ohhh,” she said in understanding. “You’re an apprentice to someone?”

  Sevana had said she would spread the word that he was an apprentice, which Bellomi thought a rather odd cover story. But, in for a penny, in for a pound. He tried a smile and said, “Artifactor Warran.”

  For some reason, this startled her more than anything else he had said. “Sevana? Sevana took on an apprentice?!”

  Umm. Not quite the reaction he’d been going for. He opened his mouth to say, forgive the late introduction, but bit it back at the last second. Did that sound un-childlike? Trying again, he said hesitantly, “I’m Bellomi. Nice to meet you?”

  After several startled blinks, she relaxed into a smile that somehow (impossibly) made her even prettier. “I’m Hana. It’s very nice to meet you, Bellomi.”

  He let out a covert breath. Oh good, that had worked. Now, what else had Morgan advised when talking to people…oh, right. “I’m glad a pretty lady came to my rescue.”

  She chuckled and put a hand on his head, tousling his hair. “You flatterer. It’s hard to believe a charming little boy is an apprentice to Sevana, of all people. But Bellomi, I wouldn’t come to market at this time of the day, alright? No matter what your master says. If you’re that bad in crowds, it’s best you come very early, when no one’s here yet.”

  Good advice and he’d be wise to take it. “I shall,” he promised.

  Nodding in approval, she stood and offered a hand. “You said you came with your master’s friend, so I assume you mean Morgan?”

  Oh, she knew him too? “That’s right.”

  “Then let’s go find him. He’s probably worried about you.”

  She still held a hand out to him, expectantly. The last time he’d held someone’s hand, it had been his mother’s, which was a good sixteen years ago now. A little gingerly, he put his hand into hers. She wrapped her fingers around his in a firm grip, which for some strange reason felt protective. He fell into step with her as she left the porch they’d been standing on, which he now saw led into a general store.

  Hana headed back toward the crowd. When he saw that, he instinctively drew back, dragging his feet, breath catching, although he didn’t let go of her hand.

  As if sensing his unease, she said calmly, “Don’t worry, we’re not going back into that madhouse. We’ll skirt along the edges and see if we can’t spot Morgan.”

  The man stood a good head above most people, so hopefully that wouldn’t be too onerous a task. Slightly reassured, Bellomi kept walking with her.

  “How did you and Morgan get separated?” she asked as they walked toward the far side of the street, away from the market stalls.

  “I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. “I was trying to follow him into the crowd, but when I turned around he was gone.”

  “In other words,” Hana translated, giving him quite the look, “you wandered off. Bellomi, I realize that Morgan isn’t your parent, but when you come into town, you should stick close to the adult that came with you. It’s dangerous otherwise.”

  He opened his mouth to object…only to freeze as it occurred to him how he looked in her eyes. In everyone’s eyes, for that matter. No matter his true age, he looked eight years old. If he didn’t act according to his age, then he invited trouble on his head that he could have avoided easily. As much as it rankled to be crammed into the status of a child, he had little choice until Sevana broke the curse on him. With a sigh, he capitulated, “I’ll be more careful.”

  “Wise of you.”

  “Bellomi!” Morgan’s voice called over the din from the market.

  Turning, he look
ed in every direction, but he couldn’t see the other man through this thick crowd of people. Trying to be helpful, he raised a hand as far above his head as he could reach and waved it while calling, “I’m here!”

  “I doubt he can see you,” Hana mentioned as she raised her own hand and waved. “Over here, Morgan!”

  It took a few moments, but Morgan eventually won free of the throng and made his way over to them. He looked outright relieved to see Bellomi. “Phew! There you are.”

  “Morgan, you really need to be more careful,” Hana scolded as the other man stopped in front of them. “What would Sevana say if you lost her apprentice the first time he came to the village? Not to mention this is a terrible time of the day to drag a small boy into market when he’s already bad with crowds!”

  “Bad with crowds?” Morgan repeated, turning to study Bellomi with narrowed eyes.

  The prince couldn’t quite meet his eyes, looking everywhere else to avoid them, as the embarrassment of the situation started to set in.

  “I found him having a panic attack not five minutes ago,” Hana explained, still peeved. “Not that I blame the poor child, considering he was almost crushed in there. Really, Morgan, what were you thinking?”

  “I didn’t know he was bad with crowds,” Morgan hastily defended himself. “But I doubt even he knew that, right, Bel?”

  Bellomi shrugged, not looking at either one of them. This truly was becoming more and more embarrassing, especially as they discussed him right in front of him like this. And Hana had let go of his hand, too, which just made the situation more miserable. He’d rather enjoyed holding hands with her.

  “Although I should have expected it, I suppose,” Morgan continued without waiting for a response. “All things considered.”

  Hana gave him a confused look and demanded, “What things?”

  “Well, Bel’s been isolated most of his life from people,” Morgan explained vaguely. “He’s never been in a crowd like this, I don’t think. Sorry, Bel. We should have taken precautions.”

  Bellomi waved this away. “I’m at fault just as much as you are. I didn’t think of it either. But now that we know, we’ll need to work on this. I can’t afford to let this handicap me.”

  “You’re quite right,” Morgan agreed. “Well, in the meantime, thank you, Hana. Your help’s appreciated.”

  She gave them both an odd look, as if they had said something strange, but all she said was, “Not at all. Bellomi, feel free to swing by the library at any point, alright? I doubt that Sevana has anything in her mountain that is appropriate for a boy your age to read. I’ll help you when you come.”

  Oh? Hana was a librarian? He perked up with real interest. “I shall. My thanks, Miss Hana. And sorry for—” can’t say imposition, too high in diction, “the trouble.”

  “Not at all.” She ruffled his hair again, smile revealing dimples, then with a last nod to Morgan, went on her way.

  Morgan waited for her to pass out of earshot before leaning down and murmuring, “We’ve definitely got to work on your conversational skills. You sounded like a teenager, not a child.”

  Bellomi blew out a breath in aggravation. “And here I was trying to not use any elevated language.”

  “Which helped, but not enough.” Morgan shot the blond a look as she melted back into the crowd. “I could see that Hana found it odd.”

  Sweet mercy, why was this so difficult? “Just how long will it take before I can speak naturally with people?”

  “Depends on how much you practice,” Morgan answered with a shrug. “The more you do so, the quicker you learn.”

  Bellomi looked at the crowd of people with renewed determination. “Then let’s get back to it, shall we?”

  Sevana knew for a fact that the nearby village of Milby had only one clothing store. They didn’t carry much of a selection, either, just the bare basics. Even the most choosey of customers couldn’t spend more than an hour inside the store. So she didn’t expect them to take long.

  With Kip and Bel safely out of her hair, she used the time to have Big make a few changes to her workroom. With it half-destroyed like this, she had the freedom to make it larger and rearrange the layout a little. She’d set up a temporary table inside so that she could work on Bel’s curse, but now she could properly restore the workroom. She puttered about, adding in worktables, re-arranging shelves, and the like, completely content with her own company.

  She didn’t realize how much time had passed until the clock inside chimed out the hour. Hmm? Had they really been gone for four hours? She stared at the clock face, feeling perplexed. Milby only had three main streets and a handful of shops. Even if Bel dragged his feet, enjoying his first outing in a decade, it wouldn’t take four hours to see the whole village. What on earth were those two doing?

  The sound of the main door opening echoed down the tunnel, followed by two male voices conversing. Oh, finally back? She stepped out to meet them. “Kip, you didn’t buy out the whole village did you?” she asked even before she rounded the bend and came into view.

  Bel shouldered a large bag stuffed to the gills, and Kip had a similar bag over his. They greeted her with a smile. “No, we left them a few socks,” Kip assured her with a grin. “Actually, what held us up was Prince Charming here flirting with Hana.”

  Bel shot him a glare. But more interesting, he also blushed a little. Sevana observed this with evil amusement. Hooo so he had a crush on the librarian’s daughter? He certainly wouldn’t be the first. Hana was Sevana’s polar opposite—petite, pretty and with a naturally sweet disposition to her. “Wouldn’t it be a little challenging for an eight year old to flirt with an eighteen year old?”

  “He managed,” Kip assured her, an evil tint to his smile.

  The little prince cleared his throat meaningfully and refused to be baited. “What actually held us up is that I don’t understand how currency works. Not really. I think we need to focus more on that, Sevana. Kip had to explain every transaction to me.”

  Dropping his teasing, Kip nodded in support of this. “Actually, that really was the holdup. He needs more practice with haggling and paying for things. He didn’t understand taxes at all.”

  She cocked an eyebrow at Bel. “You didn’t read any economy books?”

  “I tried,” he grimaced. “I fell asleep every time.”

  Well, economy was taught better in real life than through a book anyway. “Then I’ll teach you as we travel. Kip, I assume while you were loitering around flirting at the library that you found out where Pierpoint is?”

  “I did, actually. He’s on Tree-on-the-sea.”

  On the island? That remote island where only fisherman and birds chose to live? That island that she didn’t have a handy portal to? She groaned. “Stone the crows! Why would he live there?”

  “Maybe, like you, he’s trying to avoid having visitors,” Kip suggested sweetly.

  She’d make him pay for that comment later. Sevana pulled up a mental map and thought it through. She had several different methods of travel aside from the clocks, they just weren’t as fast or as convenient. With a passenger along, it narrowed her options even further. But she could think of one that would work for this. “I’m going to have to use the far-see glasses.”

  Bel gave her a blank look, as he had no idea what she was referring to, but Kip just looked confused. “I thought you broke those.”

  “I broke my nose,” she corrected irritably. “And no, they work fine. I’ve done some adjustments.”

  Raising a finger in the air to draw attention to himself, Bel asked, “Far-see glasses?”

  “Eyeglasses that when you wear them, they will take you as far as you can see,” Kip explained. “It’s an early invention of Sev’s. Works quite good, too. As long as you don’t focus on something solid. Like trees. Or buildings. The glasses will take you straight to them.”

  Hence her broken nose from the last time she’d worn them. She’d forgotten about that minor detail. “They can get u
s there quickly. The only thing is…Bel, you’re going to have to ride on my hip.”

  The twenty-one year old (even if he didn’t look it) grimaced at her. “That’s a little embarrassing. How about on your back instead?”

  “No.” She needed to carry a few things with her in case Pierpoint didn’t have an immediate answer for her. Her pack would take up any free space on her back. “The humiliation will be good for you.”

  Bel rubbed at his head like it hurt him.

  “Pack light,” she ordered. “We leave tomorrow morning.”

  Muttering to himself, Bel got to his feet and left the room. As soon as he’d passed out of earshot, Morgan slid to the edge of his seat and leaned closer to Sevana, speaking in a confidential tone, “Here’s the rest of what happened in the village.”

  “Oh?” She didn’t think a lesson on currency would hold them up that much. “Did you teach him how to talk to people like I asked?”

  “Well, I certainly gave him the beginner’s course. He’s got a lot to learn yet. But Sev, the kid had a serious breakdown in the middle of the market. He’s terrible in crowds. He starts having panic attacks.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “That must have been entertaining.”

  Kip grimaced. “Not really. I didn’t see the first one, as we got separated, but Hana had to come to his rescue. I was there for the next two, though. You’ve got to expose him more to people. A king especially has to be good in crowds.”

  “No kidding.” She’d half suspected that he would be uncomfortable around large bodies of people after being secluded for a decade, but she hadn’t thought it would be this bad. “What else happened?”

  “Well, like I said, he had to be rescued by Hana. She gave me an earful for that, by the way. But he’s developed a little crush on her because of it, I think.” For some strange reason, Kip stated blushing at this point, just a light hint of pink on his cheeks. “Which made me think, with him being locked away and all, did anyone give him the birds and bees talk? He’s terribly naïve for a twenty-one year old. So….”

  Sevana started laughing, smacking the arm of her chair in outright mirth. “Tell me you gave it to him!”