by A E M
The moment they stood there could have been an hour or several minutes or perhaps a fraction of a minute. Charlotte slowly slipped her long gloves off and dropped them from a safe distance into his hands. He nodded solemnly and tied them together. “I would like you to try a magical exercise. Your proof of whether or not you have weaver ability will present itself.”
“Fine.” She said quietly.
“Turn around, please. I’m going to blindfold you with these.”
She did as he asked, though she held her breath the entire time. He tightened the gloves around the back of her head.
“Now listen to my instructions exactly as I say them. This is vital, especially since you have no control over your powers.”
“If I have powers,” She corrected him in a whisper. This whole situation seemed ridiculous, but at the very least she would try to humor him.
“Where are you?” He asked.
“I am in my father’s library.” She answered.
“No, you are not.” He answered. “Pay attention. Where are you?”
Charlotte laughed. “I think this proves my point. I am in my father’s library, as are you. Are we done now?”
“Not quite yet.” Vincent said slowly, but confidently. “Be still for a moment. Be absolutely quiet. Smell the air. Feel the floor beneath you.”
She smirked, but then straightened her mouth into a straight line. It couldn’t hurt to follow his directions for a short while. Her brother would soon be back and she could tell him about the smell of books and leather and the polished wood floors beneath her that she had run across in socks as a child when she wanted to pretend to skate. He would know she had no magic soon enough.
“Empty yourself of everything.” She heard his voice in front of her now. “Imagine that your body is a treasure chest that only you can open. You have discovered this chest and you are excited to store what’s precious to you, but first you must clean it up for it is an old relic from your attic. Open the lid now in your mind. Take out the most recent stuff piled at the top. The battles. The blood. The death you have seen. Toss it out now.” She gasped. At some point she had started to follow along, and she felt lighter now. He continued, “Now take out everything else, slowly, but with force. Make sure you empty it completely. The good memories as well as the bad.”
She clumsily started emptying the chest in front of her of everything. She hesitated to throw out her good past at first, but she noticed that even the good memories were smeared with blood now. There was a necklace and a teddy bear and a saddle and ballet shoes and running shoes. There were pictures of her through the years, and a pile of dresses. She went faster now, and tossed things farther away. At the very bottom was an infant’s gown. It was dark black dress. She paused, surprised at the color. She reached down to pick it up, but it burned at her touch. She gasped and fell to her knees as she watched the gown burn from black to red to orange to blue to white. The heat warmed her face at first, but now she panicked, as it seemed to grow hotter and hotter.
“What is at the bottom?” Vincent asked urgently then.
“A baby dress.” She said loudly. “It’s burning! It changed colors a few times and it’s burning. It’s so hot!”
“You have to pick it up and toss it out with the rest of your old belongings.”
Charlotte felt tears starting to spill down her face then. “But I’ll burn. I can’t touch it or I will burn!” She screamed and stumbled back as the trunk caught fire.
“Toss it out!” Vincent whispered demandingly in her ear. “Now!”
She leapt at the sound of the urgency in his voice. “I can’t!”
“You can and you must. You must save your trunk!” He was behind her again. “Charlotte, hurry!”
She swallowed her panic and flung her arms through the flames to the bottom of the trunk. The cloth slipped through her fingers the first time, but she snatched it up and threw it as far away as possible before collapsing in a heap on the floor.
She heard the shuffle of feet. “Charlotte, listen to me. Where are you?”
“I’m in my father’s library.” At her own realization of her words she stopped sobbing and sat up. She quieted herself, and the trunk glimmered and vanished slowly into the darkness and she felt the floors beneath and smelled the books and felt the sunshine from the windows. “I am in my father’s library!”
“Yes, you are.” Vincent said as he slipped her gloves off of her face.
He was standing still, watching her closely. “How do you feel now?”
“What do you mean how do I feel?”
“Focus. Close your eyes if you need to.”
She sighed and closed her eyes. She struggled to rein in her thoughts. All this time she had thought she had no magic. Looking back on it, she hadn’t had time to talk to her father, or ask him what to expect. She wasn’t sure what signs she should have been looking for. She searched through her memories for a clue. Her father had asked strange questions now and then, but he was always asking her questions; pushing her to learn more. She wanted answers. She needed answers.
“Focus.” Vincent said again calmly. “If it helps, imagine your mind is a floor. Sweep everything off the floor and focus on the emptiness that is left.”
She laughed and pictured her mind as a floor. What kind of floor would she be? She imagined a floor, and it surprised her how quickly she fell into a daydream where a warm wooden floor was underneath her feet. There were rugs and pillows and books strewn across the floor.
Vincent interrupted her again. “Sweep the floor, Charlotte.”
She turned towards his voice, but her eyes remained closed. “The stuff is too big to sweep.”
“You need to sweep the floor. It’s not too big. Picture a broom as large as you need it to be.”
She looked back to the heap of comfort. “I don’t want to sweep it away.” She was kneeling now, her hands and eyes searching for a book to read. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a fire leap up from a pillow. Quickly the fire began to spread across the pillows and books and rugs. She screamed and fell back.
She felt the air change as smoke rolled across the room. “Vincent, it’s on fire! The fire is back!”
“Well, I suppose you’ll need a mop now.” Vincent answered. “You need to sweep the room clear as I have asked. It’s the only way.”
She cringed at the heat and coughed from the smoke now. “It’s so real!” She cried out. “Why is this so real?”
“Sweep the floor.”
She imagined a mop then, one as large as her car. She pulled it across the room, putting out the fire and disposing of the burnt items in the room. Only she and the burnt floor and a familiar ache in her gut remained now.
“I swept it.” She whispered as she looked around at the nothingness.
“Now how do you feel?” Vincent asked.
“I ache.” She said honestly. “Can I stop now?”
“Not yet.” He answered. “I need you to look for a light first. I want you to find it and pull on it. See what it does and how it reacts.”
She saw a red light now. It danced, twirling and leaping and sometimes reaching out a little. She focused on its playful movement. She played with the tendrils of it, pulling them farther and farther away from the center until she was surrounded by tendrils of light that teased her hair and soothed her skin. She found herself smiling then, and playing with the air in her mind.
“Now tell me where you are Charlotte.” Vincent called to her, and she frowned. “Tell me how you feel.”
Her eyes flashed open and glared at him. “I am in my father’s library, and I am really mad. You just interrupted the first real fun I’ve had in many weeks.”
He nodded. “You are doing well.”
“Doing well at what? Daydreaming? What does any of this have to do with being a weaver? Did I pass or fail?” She crossed her arms in front and tapped her foot.
“You will need to work on patience.” Vincent said.
Ch
arlotte huffed. “I have a new game for us to play. How are you in a competition?”
“Which sort of competition?”
She hadn’t expected him to play along. “Physical competition. Weapons.” There. She doubted that many modern weavers knew much about real fighting, but she did.
“Which weapon?” Vincent asked simply.
She nearly growled. “You are impossible.”
He frowned and moved until they were standing toe to toe. He stared at her solemnly for a long moment before nodding. “You’ll do.”
“I’ll do what?” She asked with both curiosity and disdain.
“Do you want to learn to use your powers?” He asked in a fierce whisper. They were still nose-to-nose.
“Yes, of course I want learn to use my powers. I have felt out of control every day for far too long. I want control of my life back.” She paused and whispered. “Does this mean that I am a weaver?”
He nodded. “It is going to be very difficult. You are many years behind.” He narrowed his eyes a bit. “You have many bad habits. You are a danger to yourself and to others, and there will certainly be unknown elements to handle.” He paused for a moment and she wondered how much of the fear she felt within was surfacing on her face. “You’ve done very well today. You will progress faster as an adult, but only if you are willing to learn.”
Charlotte wanted to step back from his piercing gaze for she had gotten used to the cage of distance she had created with others. She hated the cage, but right now it was all she seemed to have.
“Charlotte, I propose that you have a different master.”
“Why wouldn’t I want my brother? Isn’t he a good teacher?” She laughed. “Who do you think should train me?”
“Me.” He said firmly. “Your brother is a good teacher. Your father is a good teacher. But as much as your father leans towards the least amount of technology, your brother leans towards the most amount of technology. Balance would be most beneficial.”
She raised her eyebrows. “But you are an apprentice. Surely you can’t teach another right now.”
“An apprentice graduates to a master by taking on an apprentice and then passing a test shortly after.” He told her. “It’s time for me to move on, and it’s time for you to start.”
“Should we ask my brother?” She asked cautiously and looked toward the library doors.
Vincent shook his head. “This process must be started by me.”
“How do I know I can trust you?” She asked. “I know nothing about you.”
“You don’t.”
She shook her head. “You must be crazy to want to take me on.”
He smiled a small smile. “Your brother was crazy to want to take me on.”
She laughed and was glad to see that Vincent’s smile grew a little stronger. “Do I have time to think about this?”
“We must do this before your brother returns, I’m afraid.”
“How do we do this? What do we do?” She asked.
He held out both hands, palms down. “Put your hands, palm up, in my hands and say, ‘I accept’.”
She paused then. “Remember that I am going to get married. Does that affect training?”
He closed his eyes and sighed. She thought she caught him rolling his eyes right before they shut. “It can be worked around.” He opened his eyes again. “Your case is unique, so we will make adaptations. However, you should think about pushing the date back a couple of decades. Or a hundred years. You’re a weaver now, and you’ve got some serious work to do and many years to do it in. For example, I’m not married, and I have no plans to marry while I am training you. Your brother hasn’t even thought about it while he has been training apprentices.”
“I’ll do my best, but I can’t guarantee that I won’t get married tomorrow. It’s a bit of a special case in itself.”
He paused, and looked at the closed library doors. “Listen, at the very least I need to teach you enough to be safe. You might not get the full training if you don’t apply yourself, but you can at least function without burning your house down.”
“Can you teach me to be safe without me becoming an apprentice?”
“Technically, yes. Traditionally, no. It’s the only way I can become a Master Weaver.” He replied.
She took a step back and started to wonder if she should keep a journal to document the amount of ridiculous situations she seemed to be falling in one after another. She narrowed her eyes and shook her head at him, silently scolding him before she did so verbally. “Oh, so this is all about you. You get the special case and a special sticker because of it. Well, I don’t fully believe you. What if there is an apprentice who doesn’t want to take an apprentice on? What if there are no new weavers to take on? What do you do then?” She paused dramatically. “You do know that you could take on a different apprentice, right?”
“Are you quite done?” He asked with the same smug grin he had worn earlier. “Your brother is on his way.”
“How do you know?” She asked quickly. She had already made her decision, but she couldn’t seem to help herself from trying to bait him into a display of slightly more emotion than a rock. He didn’t seem to be falling for it.
“Trust me, an apprentice learns very quickly to know where the master is at all times.”
Charlotte stepped forward and slipped her hands, palms up, under his. “I accept.”
The doors slammed open and David marched in. “What did you two just get yourselves into?” He yelled.
4
The Apprentice Duels the Master
David returned late from the emergency Weaver Council meeting.
Vincent sat at the kitchen table with his latest assignments. He looked up, but kept quiet.
“We need to take a trip.” David gripped Vincent’s shoulder as he passed.
“Do you need me to prepare for anything?” Vincent asked.
“No.” David responded. “This trip is a family matter.”
He saw Vincent’s back straighten. “Well, my family other than you.” He added.
He flicked the back of Vincent’s neck. “Foolish man-boy. Haven’t you learned that one yet?”
He shoved him playfully and left the kitchen. He hoped he knew, because it was time for him to leave the nest.
Vincent breathed deeply, taking great care to remain steady though his heart was beating far too quickly. The half girl half woman stared up at him with troublesome wide eyes and an “I told you so” painted across her lips. He focused on keeping his hands steady over hers as the magic mixed between their hands. Hers was red. His was black. Hers was unstable. His was steady. His circled hers. He had to concentrate to keep her wild magic contained. He could not fail. He would not fail. Calmly, he shut out the sound of David’s angry footsteps as they stamped toward him. Finally, the two balls of magic between their hands melted into one large ball that spun quickly between them. It bounced and floated until finally it snapped and split back into two. One ball collided and disappeared into his chest; the other did the same with Charlotte. At the same time, the bond between David and him snapped, leaving him sore. He tested the new bond that now reached the distance between him and Charlotte. He yanked it to his side immediately. She wasn’t ready to feel the full weight of it yet.
He suppressed his relief that things worked out just in time. The hard part was done, but there was another hard part coming up. He turned just as David’s fist connected with his jaw.
“She was mine.” David yelled. “You were not done being an apprentice! I told you to get her started, not steal her away.”
“Stop!” Charlotte yelled as she stepped between them and put a hand on each of their chests. “It was my choice.”
Vincent rubbed his jaw. So she would touch if it meant defending somebody. Vincent’s gaze flickered down to hers, and her eyes widened with the realization that she was touching both of them. Her arms shook. She pulled them to her sides and made her hands into fists.
“W
hat do you know about the choice you just made?” David yelled back at her. “You are an infant in magic. I should have been the one to guide you, but now I have no choice but to stand back and let one child teach another!”
Charlotte stiffened. Vincent put his hands on her shoulders. She stepped back to him as he pulled on her arms and guided her to his side. “It is time, Master.” He said calmly as he stepped in front of Charlotte. This was his fight, not hers. She had no idea what was going on, and she seemed the type to step in and try to save the day.
“Oh, you better hope it’s time.” David said coolly as he stepped forward. He nodded at Charlotte. “Otherwise you have just landed yourself in a heap of trouble. You are barely ready for a normal apprentice. You won’t be able to handle this correctly.”
“I will be fine.” He answered calmly as he pulled Charlotte to the side and sat her down in a chair. “Stay put for now.” He said and then leaned closer to whisper. “Trust me. We will both be fine, but I will glue you down to that seat if you try to interfere.” She opened her mouth to complain, but he shut it with his finger under her chin and gently tugged her ear. “Be good.” He ignored the spark in her eyes. He would deal with one Locklear at a time. He turned back to David. “In fact, I am the best chance she has of succeeding. You know it. Deep down inside you know it has to be with somebody other than you.”
David shoved him. “I have trained you to be great, but you are not great yet. You are not done learning.”
“Nobody is ever done learning.” Vincent replied as he caught his footing and stepped back where he had been.
“Stand down!” David yelled. “Stand down and we can reverse what you have done here today.”
“Not a chance.” Vincent answered. “This is my time.”
David stopped pacing. “Then let it be.” He raised his hands above his head and clapped loudly three times. The claps resounded across the room.