by Unknown
Bell stood and stretched. “Before you will be allowed to test the skills you are learning with a true quarry, you will have to acquire from members of the Trade.”
Kaid added, “When you are successful against knowledgeable and educated practitioners, we will then consider you a peer and ready to use your talents on others.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Seasons flow by like a windblown sock. If only you had a key for that lock.
—Book of Seasons by T. A. Feneas
ZEAL LOOKED AT HIS most recent attempt to make a wig from a horse’s tail. If he used a wide hat to hold it in place on his head, his disguise would be complete. He adjusted the headpiece and tied on the bonnet. The darn thing itched. He hated wearing it, and the skirts, as well. Winter was nigh and his legs were cold.
Laughter from behind him caused him to turn around. Tulip stood dressed as a boy, like the two other girls, studying the result of his efforts.
“Try putting a few curls in it. By the way, you cut it unevenly. Your wig is longer on the right. Let me fix it for you.” Tulip picked up the scissors. “What’s that smell?”
“It’s nothing.” Zeal stood still while Tulip snipped. “You girls have it easy. Just wear trousers, place your hair under a cap, put some dirt on your face, and instant boy.”
“Well, the scratching, spitting, and nose-picking do complete the illusion.” Tulip finished cutting and stood back. “Much better, maybe you should let your hair grow out and save all this trouble.”
“Thanks, I already thought of doing that. Would you please watch me walk and tell me how I’m doing?”
Tulip nodded and observed Zeal for several moments. “Not bad. You still have too much sway in the shoulders. Use smaller movements. Ask Nester for advice. He could pass for a girl, dressed as he is. I am amazed at how he is able to timber his voice, take the boy out and sound female.”
Bell stepped over as Zeal completed another pass in front of Tulip. “Zeal, your hair is almost passable. Perhaps a bit of curl in it would help.”
Zeal saw Tulip silently mouth, “I told you.”
Bell pointed across the room. “The two of you join the rest of us at the tables. I have something new for you all to learn. By the way, Zeal, even though manure has its uses, girls do not reek of chamber pot.”
Zeal sighed. “Well, if I am a smelly girl then folks wouldn’t want to get close enough to tell I’m a boy.”
Bell laughed. “Go wash it off before you come to the tables.”
***
Bell waited for Zeal before beginning her instruction. “What I have placed in front of you are common locks with keys. I want you to dismantle the device so that you can better understand its inner workings.”
Nester raised his hand, and Bell acknowledged him. “Bell, why do we need to learn how these work?”
“It is because a lock is a deterrent that an acquirer needs to be able to overcome.” No other hands popped up, so Bell continued. “Open the panel on the side, and look at the interior. Slide in the key. As you can see, the key lifts the small pegs, called pins, out of the bolt and allows the bolt to turn. When you remove the key, the pins fall partway into the bolt and prevent it from moving.”
Zeal, who no longer smelled, raised his hand. Bell thought he really did make a cute little girl. “Yes, Zeal. You have a question.”
“What if you don’t have a key? How do you open the bolt then?”
Bell pointed. “I want each of you to look in the small box in front of you. Inside you will find a set of tools. The heavier, angled one is called a tension wrench. The thin, straight piece with the small, hooked end is a pick. Now, before one of you asks how to use them, I will show you.”
She suppressed a smile as Tulip quickly lowered her arm, then Bell continued.
“Take the pick and use it to feel how the pins move. Do you see how the pins slide until they settle into position out of the bolt?” Bell waited till she’d obtained confirmation from her charges and continued.
“Once all the pins are in position, you use the tension wrench to turn the bolt thusly.” She showed everyone her open lock. “Now you all try. As you gain more expertise, I will teach you how to open more complex locks.”
Fronc waved his hand.
“Yes, Fronc.”
“Are we going to have to do bad things?
Bell felt a chill move through her. The children seemed unnaturally still.
“Let me answer Fronc’s question.”
Bell spied the speaker, both impressed and irked that the Trade Master was able to approach her undetected. “Master Slag, we are pleased to have you join us.”
Slag set a small chest on the nearest table. “I thought I would drop by and see how our new locksmiths were fairing. I brought along a challenge for them.” He indicated the chest. “I heard Fronc’s question. Fronc, what do you mean by bad things?”
Slag waited. When he did not get an immediate response from Fronc, he added, “You should never be afraid to talk to me or any of your mentors regarding any topic. I will always be available. You will not get into any trouble for asking an honest question. Fronc, if you are uncomfortable speaking, then perhaps one of your colleagues can help you.”
Liddea offered, “We are learning ways to steal from others and sneak about disguised as someone we’re not.”
“Disable or even take the life of another person without them having been aware we were there,” Tulip added. “I don’t mind learning how to, mind you.”
Slag heard next from Mehrle. “We’re taught the local laws then how to manipulate and avoid them.”
Nester spoke up. “Today, Bell is showing us how to defeat locks. In the future, who knows what else we will be taught.”
“And we never get to use what we learn,” Zeal chimed in.
Slag smiled. “You are correct. The skills you are acquiring can be utilized for good or evil. I will only allow one choice. Good above evil.”
Bell stood quiet as Slag addressed each apprentice, relieved to have him there to handle Fronc’s concern.
“Tulip, a few moons ago, there were two men who were attacking the inhabitants who reside in the poorer areas of Arlanda. The men were not very gentle, and not everyone survived their encounter with them. The Watch was not able to stop them. It was the Trade who captured and turned them in. Our members were not injured in the process because they were expert combatants. That is why you will all continue to train under Master Turk.
“Liddea, the Trade is a business. We are Purveyors and Acquirers. We are profitable because we use the special talents we’ve developed to beat out our competitors, many of whom right now are trying to steal from us. Knowledge is power. We sometimes have to hide who and what we are from others in order to gain it.
“Nester, you are right. There is a lot more for you all to learn, to prepare you to be successful in this life. You do not yet see the whole picture, just part of it. By the time your training is complete, you will be able to judge if you made the correct choice to become one of us.
“Zeal, when I deem you all are ready, I will allow you to use the skills you have already acquired. There is much more for you to learn. Until then, I have my eyes on each and every one you, and you, Zeal, especially.
“Mehrle, not all the laws are good ones. I have had you study them, so that you can learn to see who the regulations truly benefit. If a law hurts the poor and helps the rich, what good is the measure? Such a rule needs to be removed. The Trade works covertly to make a change happen.
“Fronc, as Trade Master, I will not require or force you to take on any task that is against your principles. One may find a job I assign distasteful, but it will be worthy of the effort. The Trade helps others as we help ourselves. Do any of you have any other questions for me?”
Zeal piped up. “What’s in the box?”
After the laughter caused by Zeal’s query faded, Slag answered, “A reward for whoever unlocks the chest. Each of you will be given two chances. Th
e first to open it will earn the contents. Fronc, when you are ready, you may make the initial attempt. I reward honesty. Thank you, Fronc, for your question.”
Bell processed for herself Slag’s comments. He had been honest and more forthcoming than she had expected. She smiled at Zeal’s discomfort at having been singled out from his peers. Slag was referencing Zeal’s creative learning style… Or was he?
CHAPTER NINE
Seasons slice their way through life. They cut through time just like a knife.
—Book of Seasons by T. A. Feneas
TULIP SAT ON the back steps outside of Cook’s kitchen. Today was one of the free days Lady Izlan had ordered Master Slag to give them every quarter moon. No workout, schooling, cleaning in the Trade armory, or training of any kind was allowed on a free day. She and the other apprentices spent so much time together that it was a pleasure for Tulip to have a little private time away from others.
She wished Master Turk would let them carry a weapon, but he said they were not yet ready. She and Zeal had discussed the issue just last eve. Surprisingly, Zeal felt the same way she did and thought they should at least have a small blade to carry.
Tulip looked across the play area, past the herb fields and orchards that were just starting to awaken with the coming of spring. She saw Zeal in the distance and yelled, “Zeal! Wait up a moment!”
Zeal must not have heard her, she thought to herself, because he kept moving. I wonder where he is going? I have never asked him what he does on his off day. There is one way to find out.
She stood and ran to catch up to him but slowed when Zeal moved into the woodlands. She decided to follow him from a distance. This was a chance to practice shadowing someone without being detected. Her curiosity was tweaked when he entered the burial grounds. Glad for the sunlight, she stopped just inside the tree line and looked on as Zeal disappeared inside the mausoleum.
Tulip waited a short period to determine whether Zeal would soon leave the building. Intrigued when he didn’t, she decided to see what he was doing inside. Carefully, she approached the fence, passed through, and proceeded across the courtyard to the large, imposing structure. The building and grounds were well kept.
She crept up to the door, found it ajar, and stopped to listen. She heard two people talking, Zeal and a female. Who did he come to meet?
Tulip heard Zeal say, “…so that is why I think we should have something to defend ourselves with.”
The female answered, “I agree. A champion should have tools to use.”
Tulip quietly opened the door, eased into the mausoleum, and moved just far enough in to view Zeal. He sat at the far side of the large interior with his back to her, in front of the sculpture of a woman who held a babe in the crook of one arm and a kitten in the other while standing on a dais. Tulip saw no sign of the female with whom Zeal conversed. She decided to keep still till the person spoke and revealed herself.
The statue turned its head, looked directly at her. “Welcome, Tulip. Why don’t you come join us?”
Zeal stared back over his shoulder. “Tulip?”
Tulip, shocked by the talking statue, stood frozen in place.
Zeal got to his feet, ran up, and took her by the hand. “Tulip, you’re all right. Iris is real. Obin must have let you in. Come with me, so I can introduce you.”
Tulip glanced around for Obin but didn’t see anyone else present. At Zeal’s insistence, she was finally able to move and slowly allowed him to pull her along till they reached the statue.
“Tulip, this is Iris. Iris obviously knows who you are. I have told her all about you.” Zeal had to pry her fingers off his hand.
Tulip realized it was she who held tightly to Zeal, not him to her. Her body was betraying her. Her legs were weak, stomach clenched, and she felt cold.
Iris leaned toward her. “I am so very happy you have chosen to visit. You will always be welcome here.”
Zeal clapped. “Now I can share Iris with you. But you can’t talk to anyone else about her. Iris has to be kept a secret just between us.”
Tulip found her voice. “What are you?” Hesitantly, she reached out. Iris felt soft, warm, and fleshy, not at all like cold stone. A flowery scent rose from Iris at Tulip’s touch.
Iris straightened. “I am a Steward and wish to be your friend, if you let me.”
Tulip thought to herself, I don’t know how to defeat stone that is living. She hesitantly replied, “I think being friends is nice. Zeal trusts you.” She turned to him. “You do trust her, don’t you?”
Zeal laughed. “Of course I do, and you can rely on Obin and the other residents here, as well.”
Iris interjected, “Zeal, I don’t think Tulip is ready to discuss Obin.”
“Why not?” Zeal pointed. “He is standing right over there by the door.”
Tulip turned. “Zeal, you’re scaring me. I don’t see anyone.”
Iris knelt beside Tulip. “There is nothing to fear, dear one. Zeal can see and communicate with those whose lives have ended yet have chosen not to pass on. That is why you cannot perceive Obin.”
Tulip suddenly sat. “Iris is right. I’m not ready to talk about this. How long have you two known each other?”
“It has been a little over three seasons.” Iris smiled.
“I visit on our rest days and help clean.” Zeal grinned playfully. “You probably don’t want to know who else I chat with.”
Tulip took a couple of deep breaths and tried to relax. “I heard you call Zeal something earlier, when I first entered.”
Iris stood. “Yes, he is one of my champions.”
Still puzzled, Tulip was about to question Iris further when Iris stepped off the dais, which then slid to the left. The opening revealed stairs leading down into darkness.
Iris kissed the kitten on top of its head and sat it on its paws. The animal opened its eyes then stretched, its front legs bent, head down, and tail held straight up.
“Zeal, I would like you to retrieve a box for me. Follow the cat. She will show you the way. Tulip, you go with him.”
Tulip, like Zeal, looked into the opening. “How are we to find our way without a light?”
“When you reach the bottom of the steps, take Zeal’s hand. Both of you close your eyes. You will find your inner vision.”
Zeal helped Tulip stand. “If Iris says we can do this, then we’ll succeed.”
Wondering what other amazing things she would experience this day, Tulip followed Zeal down the stairway.
***
Zeal was very happy Tulip now knew about Iris. Iris had promised that, one day, the other apprentices would meet her, as well. He took Tulip’s hand, and together they descended the steps. At the bottom, he could barely see the kitten in the dim light. He closed his eyes. What was his inner vision?
He began to count. Nothing happened. He lost his place somewhere after seventy, when he felt the cat brush against his legs. Slowly he began to realize he was staring down a dim gray corridor. But his eyes weren’t open.
“Tulip, are your eyes closed?”
“Yes, Zeal, they are, and Iris’s kitten won’t leave me alone. It keeps rubbing against me.”
“Mine are, as well, but I can picture the corridor ahead, and the kitten has now moved in front of us. I think it is waiting.”
“I don’t appear to—hold on. I have it, as well. Are you doing this to me? The same way you see the dead?”
“No, not I. It must be Iris’s cat.” Zeal moved his head around as he would to explore his environment when using his vision. He saw everything in shades of gray. He addressed the kitten. “Excuse me, cat, I think we’re ready to go.”
Zeal continued to hold on to Tulip’s hand as they followed the feline. The animal proceeded slowly at first then moved faster, as though it saw that he and Tulip were able to keep up.
“Are you having fun yet, Tulip?”
“Trust you, Zeal, to think that wandering in the darkness with your eyes closed is a pleasurable exper
ience. Don’t you think we should be quieter? At least speak softer?”
“I seriously doubt anything will trouble us. And the cat will protect us.”
“Oh, stop being so silly.”
Zeal counted out the paces to himself. After traveling ninety-one strides, the cat stopped, turned to the right, and stared at the wall. Zeal faced the same direction and, with eyes still closed, studied the surface. He was able to discern the faint outline of a door. To the door’s left, he perceived six glowing indentations. As he leaned closer to see better, the illumination faded. After a brief moment, one reappeared. Zeal touched it with his finger and felt a click. The glimmer ceased and another brightened. He pressed each as it appeared and made sure to memorize the sequence. The door opened inward into a room that was empty except for a small chest in the middle of the floor.
The kitten scampered by them and sat next to the chest. As it entered, Zeal saw light reflected through his eyelids. When he opened them, he saw that the chamber’s interior was brightly lit by an unseen source.
He guided Tulip into the room. “You can open your eyes now.”
“I like having light to see by better than creeping along in the dark.” Tulip pointed. “That must be the container Iris sent us to retrieve.”
“I think so, as well.” Zeal let go of Tulip’s hand and approached the chest. “It looks bigger than I expected and is probably too heavy for one of us to carry alone. I bet that is why Iris sent us both.”
Together they studied the object. The lid was carved with a mouse sitting on its haunches, contemplating a piece of cheese in a trap.
Tulip laughed. “That’s you, Zeal. You are just like that mouse, always trying to figure out ways to get to the cheese.”
“I think the little fellow is demonstrating his intelligence. He wouldn’t fall for a trap like that one.”
“Maybe I’ll call you Mouse from now on. Zeal, do you think Iris is testing us and the chest is actually trapped?”