The Child Prince (The Artifactor)

by Honor Raconteur

  “A fact I know all too well.” Bellomi hefted both swords and waggled them a little from side to side in silent demonstration. “Good night, Father.”

  As his son stepped past him, heading for the alcove, Aren said to his back, “Swords won’t combat everything in those woods.”

  “Also a fact that I know very well,” Bellomi answered without turning around. “But I’m experienced with navigating the dangers in Noppers Woods. Don’t worry about me, alright? Good night.”

  “You shouldn’t be risking your safety at all!” Aren retorted. “Bellomi? Are you even listening to me?”

  At the alcove’s door, Bellomi paused and looked his father straight in the eye and repeated firmly, “Good night, Father.”

  Seeing that he wasn’t making any headway, Aren rubbed at his forehead and said wearily, “Alright, yes, good night. I can see that we’ll have to discuss this tomorrow.”

  Not if he could help it. Bellomi refused to rise to the bait and simply stepped into the alcove, more than ready for bed.

  During their short absence, Big had taken the time to change the interior, shifting furniture about so that every room contained more chairs and places to sit than before. Where he got the furniture, Sevana had no idea, as she certainly hadn’t bought or constructed that much. But a sneaking suspicion told her that Big had drafted Kip’s help. Unlike her, the mountain had a strong sense of hospitality and liked for people to be comfortable.

  Big’s wish went largely in vain when it came to the Dragonmanovichs. They spent a great deal of time planning, the debates between father and son echoing through Big as wills and opinions clashed. Sevana tried to stay out of it, holding zero desire to get embroiled in politics.

  Willing or not, they dragged her into it anyway.

  The king gave a perfunctory rap on the door before bulling his way inside, a vein throbbing at his temple. Bel followed close on his heels, voice panicky. “—told you, it’s dangerous to just carelessly enter her workroom!”

  “It’s fine,” Aren snapped at him, eyes focused on Sevana.

  She glowered at him. Actually, it wasn’t. She’d just mixed the paint and only had the base coat on the clock. If she didn’t get this done tonight, she’d be forced to work until morning as Kip would be here at noon tomorrow to pick it up. Didn’t this man understand what it meant to work for a living? Maybe spending a few hours as a frog might help change his perspective on life….

  But one look at Aren’s face told her he wouldn’t be put off. Even if he did spend a few hours croaking and hopping about. So she grabbed the wand from her belt holster, put the paint under a stasis spell, and waved him to the bench nearby. “You’ve got five minutes.”

  Aren looked nonplussed at that, but he likely wasn’t used to being handed time limits. “My son insists on going and seeing the water dragon soon. Something about migrations and mating seasons.”

  She leaned back in her chair and responded with forced patience, “The water dragons normally stay in the chain of islands south of Sa Koa. However, at the beginning of fall, they travel toward the north of Kindin, to the Endless Sea. Talking to them during mating seasons is an epically bad idea. If we don’t catch them in the next two weeks, we’ll have to wait four months.” And they might want to leave sooner rather than later. The fire dragons had left earlier than usual, after all.

  “I am not waiting,” Bel stated vehemently.

  Aren gave him a frustrated look. “But I need an Artifactor’s help if I am to infiltrate the palace.”

  Oh, that was the issue? “Then if I call in another Artifactor to help you, there’s no problem?” Now why did they both have that blank look on their face? Dryly, she added, “There are other Artifactors, y’know.”

  Bel, after a suspicious look at his father, asked her, “As good as you?”

  “Close enough.” As she had no desire to get embroiled in politics, she put some effort into convincing Aren. “I know one Artifactor that I would trust to guard your back. We trained under the same master.”

  “His name?”

  “Sarsen Vashti.”

  Bel blinked in recognition. “I’ve heard of him. His skills are formidable.”

  That made this easier. “He is that,” she agreed. “Shall I call him in?”

  “You’ll go with Bellomi to bargain with the dragon?” Aren checked, the wheels turning as he thought everything through.

  “Yes,” she answered, toe tapping under the table.

  “Then call him in.”

  “Will do. Now, shoo.” She waved them out and turned back to her work. She’d call Master tomorrow and figure out where Sarsen was. Right now, she had a clock to paint.

  ~ ~ ~

  Keeping up with other people’s lives rated very low on her priority list. In fact, it rated even lower than organizing her upper storage rooms. But her master kept tabs on her, and she knew that he did so with all of his former students, so she called him first before trying to hunt down Sarsen on her own.

  She did so by pulling out a Caller and settling herself into a comfortable chair. Callers had actually been her master’s invention, decades ago when he just became a licensed Artifactor. It looked like a plain alabaster statue that stood only a foot tall, with a humanoid shape but without any particular gender to it. When activated, the statue took on the appearance of the person called, and could even make the same movements and motions that the other person did. Of course, it took two magical people on either end to make it work, so it never caught on among the general populace.

  Tapping the Caller’s base, she called out, “Master!” Knowing that it would take him a minute to respond, she settled more comfortably into her chair and waited.

  It did take a moment, but eventually the form of Tashjian Joles molded itself into the statue. It raised its small head, the alabaster shifting to include a short beard, hair clasped in a high ponytail, and a beak of a nose. She must have caught him just as he awoke, as he wore that infernal, ratty robe that hung off one shoulder.

  “Why, Sevana,” he greeted in his gravelly voice, tone warm. “It’s been several months since I heard from you. How are you doing, sweetling?”

  One of these days, she’d break him of the habit of calling her that. “I’m doing fine, as always. I’ve actually taken on a rather troublesome pair of clients.”

  “Oh? Do tell me.”

  It didn’t occur to her to do anything but that, so she told him the full tale. He chuckled at the end, sounding richly amused. “How unexpected. It’s rare you get this involved in people’s lives.”

  “It’s Bel’s doing,” she grumbled. “The boy can charm gold off a leprechaun. But the thing is, I think I’ve bitten off more than I can chew. For these plans to work, I need to be in about two places at once, maybe three. I thought I’d borrow Sarsen, if I could. Do you know where he is?”

  “Ahhh, that’s why you called. Actually, I do. He called me last week for a bit of advice. He was called in to deal with a nest of zikkels that somehow made their home in a bell tower.”

  Zikkels? That poor man. Sevana had caught one, once. She didn’t care to repeat the experience. They were small, light, and could glide about freely. Worse, they possessed the intelligence of a seven-year-old child and so could outwit almost anyone trying to catch them. “Did he manage it?”

  “I believe so, yes. He has a Caller on hand if you wish to contact him directly.”

  “I’ll do so.”

  “I’ll let you go so you can reach him, but before I do, a word of advice. When you go to bargain with that water dragon, do two things: one, don’t just bring gold coin. Wear several bracelets and necklaces in an obvious show. Dragons actually prefer jewelry over plain gold.”

  A fact she had not known. “I certainly will. What’s the other thing?”

  “Don’t wear any weapons and for the love of the gods, do not go with a party of people. You said it was the prince that was cursed?”

  “Now, yes.”

  “Then just
take him and no one else. They frown on large groups of people intruding upon their territory. Any group larger than three will be chased out or eaten automatically, even if you’re dripping with gold.”

  Sevana blessed her decision to call Master. She’d not known any of that, and it was very vital for her continued existence that she did. “Thank you, Master. I’ll be sure to follow your advice.”

  “Good. I love you, sweetling. Play nice with the boys and give me some grandchildren to spoil soon, alright?”

  “Old goat,” she growled and slammed the connection shut. Her face felt hot, and even her ears burned. “You’d think he was my father the way he carried on some days, I swear.” He’d actually been like that from the beginning, when her parents had given her to him at the tender age of six for training. With a breath, she shook off her embarrassment and touched the Caller again. “Sarsen.”

  This time, it took a bare moment before the Caller raised its head, Sarsen’s sleepy-looking features carving themselves into place. He sat casually with one leg crossed, in shirtsleeves and without his boots on, so he must have been home. “Well, hello Sev. What do I owe this great honor?”

  “I’ve got a client for you.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Kip sauntered into her research room sometime after lunch, looking pleased with himself and the world in general. He sank into the only other chair in the room without invitation and made himself comfortable before saying, “They liked the clock. In fact, they liked it so much they want another one for the mayor’s office.”

  Oh good. It meant another portal for her in a place she hadn’t had one. “I’ll make another, then.”

  He jerked his head toward the entrance. “Bel caught me just inside the door and gave me a quick summary. Are you really going to break into the palace and start stirring things up?”

  “We have to get enough gold to at least walk into dragon territory without being a mid-morning snack,” she pointed out reasonably. “While we’re there, we might as well take advantage of it. I understand the king is devising several schemes to get the Council over there stirred up and suspicious of each other.” It would all lead up to some sort of political coup, which was enough information for her, so she hadn’t asked for any details. “Besides, I’m only going in once, to get the gold. The rest is up to Aren and Sarsen.”

  Kip blinked. “Sarsen is coming?”

  “He’ll be here later tonight,” she confirmed. “Which reminds me. Big?”

  The mountain gave a low rumble.

  “Open up Sarsen’s room again, will you?”

  Big rumbled again, this time at a higher pitch as he agreed.

  She yawned and stretched in her chair. “Why are people so exhausting?”

  Kip just laughed. “Only you think of them like that, Sev. Come on, it hasn’t been that bad having people here.”

  She gave him a dark look. “People pestering me every other minute, making messes and asking for me to cook for them, not to mention bringing dragons home…now why would I find that troublesome?”

  “I have no idea,” he agreed mock-seriously. “So this daring-do is supposed to start when?”

  “Well, there’s a few people that are supposed to arrive first.” Sevana started ticking people off on her fingers. “Pierpoint is due in about two days, and then there’s this old retired captain of the guard…forget his name…” she trailed off, thinking. “Axelrad?”

  He snapped his fingers in recognition. “Captain Axelrad? The man’s famous. The palace couldn’t be so easily broken into during his day, I promise you. But he has to be nearly seventy. He’s been retired for nearly twelve years.”

  “Yes, I’m supposed to douse him with anti-aging potions as soon as he gets here,” she responded, unconcerned.

  “But just those two?”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “Apparently those two are the only ones that Aren trusts enough to call in at this point. I don’t blame him for playing this close to the chest. A lot changes in ten years.”

  “So it does.” Kip leaned back in his chair, eyes absently staring at the ceiling. “Sev. What do you think the odds are that we’ll succeed?”

  Sevana threw her head back and laughed out loud. “There’s no chance that we’ll lose!” In fact, just thinking about taking those idiot councilmen down made her hum a ditty.

  For some reason, though, hearing her hum unnerved Kip.

  Bellomi came in to Sevana’s research room, asking a question before he fully stepped inside. “Sevana, this other Artifactor that’s due to come, when is he…ah…hello.”

  A man in his late twenties looked up from the chair opposite of Sevana’s and gave a nod of greeting. He had a lanky body, a sort of plain face, with eyes that looked half asleep. In fact, his posture in the chair made it look as if he were ready for a nap any second. His black, wiry hair and dark skin made him look rather like a Sa Kaon, actually. Only that people had skin so dark as to be almost black. “Hello,” he greeted in a quiet, deep tone. “Are you Bel?”

  Hmm. He didn’t sound Sa Kaon, though. Bellomi gave a half bow of greeting. “I am, sir. Sarsen Vashti, by chance?”

  He gave a smile that made his eyes disappear. “That’s me.”

  “Bel, where’s your father?”

  “He stepped out,” Bellomi answered with a glance at Sevana. “He said he’s meeting Axelrad at Milby and bringing him up.”

  “Ah, then I guess our planning session will have to wait a while longer.”

  “Probably best,” Sarsen agreed in a slow, sleepy drawl. “If this man is the retired guard captain you mentioned before? Yes, then it’s best to wait for him anywho. The man knows more than us about palace security leastways.”

  Just where was that slow-paced accent from? Bellomi had never heard the like of it before.

  Sarsen gave him a more thorough look. “You don’t seem like an eleven year old anymore to me. You were that age when first cursed, weren’tcha?”

  “Uh, yes, sir.” Not that he’d looked that age even then. “How old do I look now?” he asked, not just curious. Maybe Sarsen would give him a more honest opinion.

  “I’d say about fifteen or sixteen.” Sarsen considered him again from head to toe, then nodded in support of his own opinion. “Yup, about that. That the result of that fancy bed of yours, Sev?”

  “It certainly is.” She glanced in the general direction of the bed, even though a solid rock wall blocked her view. “A fine invention, if I do say so myself. Now if I can just figure out who to market it to….”

  Sarsen grinned at her in a flash of blinding white. “What, not enough cursed princes around to make it worth your while? ‘magine that.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him and gave him a dirty look. “Chuffer.”

  He laughed off the insult before heaving himself to his feet. “But these are what I’m curious about.” Sarsen walked around Bellomi, putting a hand on his shoulder to keep him from turning, and lifted one of the swords free. With an expert turn of the wrist, he flipped the blade around and then lifted it closer to his face to study it more closely. Bellomi watched him without saying a word.

  “These your work, Sev?” Sarsen finally asked without looking away from the sword. “They’re nice, but too small for the boy.”

  Sevana cast him a quick, amused glance. “Not my fault. He grew on me.”

  Sliding the blade back home, Sarsen gave Bellomi’s shoulder a friendly pat. “We’ll talk after this,” he promised in a low tone.

  ~ ~ ~

  Sevana and Sarsen spent a few more minutes catching up with each other, but when his father still hadn’t returned, Sevana chose to go and make them an early lunch before they sat down for a strategy session.

  “In that case, why don’t we go look at my collection now?” Sarsen invited.

  Perking up at the idea of getting new swords, Bellomi nodded immediately in agreement. “Might as well.”

  “Come on, then.” Sarsen heaved himself out of the chair and led the way to hi
s room.

  Bellomi knew that Big had created a spare bedroom for Sarsen’s arrival, but apparently the man had visited before, because Big made a much larger bedroom than usual. In fact, half of the room had been turned into an armory. Or at least, it looked that way. One whole wall contained swords, pikes, spears, daggers, and various armor leaning against it.

  He took two steps inside the room and stopped dead, his eyes lingering over the blades. All of them were top quality, all of them with an Artifactor’s seal on them, runes and inscriptions engraved in the metal.

  “Come in,” Sarsen encouraged.

  Bellomi waved a hand toward the wall. “Are all of these your work, Sarsen?”

  “Certainly are. One or two my master had a hand in, though.” Hand on one hip, he looked Bellomi over from head to toe and back again with his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “You don’t have much size to you.”

  He’d grown considerably from his apparent eight-year-old self, but he didn’t have the looks of an adult yet. Going through puberty in a month’s time, with all of the ups and downs of that age, including everything from wild outbursts of hormones to his voice cracking at inconvenient times had been horrible. But he’d thankfully gotten through the worst of it and now stood at nearly five and a half feet, muscles wiry but strong after all of the training and hunting lessons he’d had. He still had a lot of growing and maturing to do, but he at least looked capable of handling a sword. Quirking an eyebrow at him, Bellomi drawled, “Give me another four months on that bed, and that will change.”

  Humming in a noncommittal agreement, Sarsen kept weighing him with his eyes. “Was it your choice or Sev’s that you’d be a dual wielder?”

  “Sevana’s. She said it was good mental training as well as just a smart idea to not depend on one sword.”

  For some reason, Sarsen gave a small, fleeting smile at that. “We’re still debating on that. But for you, I think it’s a smart choice. Shields work better with larger, more bulky men. But with you, you’re light and agile. It’s better for you to stay on the offense.” Nodding at the wisdom of his own decision, Sarsen turned for the wall. “Alright, I’ve got a few sets here. Some of them are training swords, some aren’t. Which do you prefer?”