The Sorceress's Apprentice

by Joshua Jackson

  “I was afraid of this,” Athala halted as we got close.

  “Afraid of what?”

  She gestured to the long line of people waiting to get into the single gate. Traffic was moving painfully slow.

  “They are checking everyone, looking for us,” she explained. “It explains why no one pursued us from Gletcher or Black Falls; they were herding us here.”

  I’d been wondering about that myself. At the pace we were going, I kept expecting to see a regiment of soldiers appear at any moment but they had seemed content to let us go.

  “If you knew they were expecting us, then why are we here?” I questioned.

  “Because we have no choice,” Athala responded exasperatedly. “Wiese is at the center of the Eisenberge; no matter what route we went, we would have to go through Wiese sooner or later. They know it, which is why they have set the trap here.”

  “So how do we get in?”

  “I can blend in easily enough,” Athala answered, giving me an appraising look. “You, on the other hand….”

  “I’m guessing not a lot of dark skinned people come through here often,” I finished, looking at my cinnamon colored hands.

  “You are quite conspicuous,” she nodded. “But they cannot catch what they cannot see, so drink this.” She pulled a vial out of her pack and handed it to me.

  “What is it?” I looked suspiciously at it.

  “It is a potion I made from the vanishing pheasant,” Athala answered. “They have a gland that secretes an enzyme—”

  “I got it,” I held up my hand to cut off the inevitable lecture. I’d learned that once she got started, we’d be here for another day while Athala broke down every little facet of how the thing worked. “So this will turn me invisible?”

  “Ya, I believe so,” she nodded.

  “Is it dangerous?”

  “I do not think it is toxic.”

  Comforting. “You think?”

  “I guarantee you the spears of the guards are quite toxic,” Athala countered, tapping her foot. “Now drink!”

  I complied with a heavy sigh. At first, nothing happened, other than my stomach rebelling against the nauseatingly bitter taste. Then my vision started going blurry and I felt my balance teeter.

  “Uh, Athala…”

  Then I was completely blind.

  “It worked!” I heard Athala declare triumphantly somewhere in front of me.

  “Worked?” I snapped at her. “I can’t see!”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I’m completely blind! I can’t see anything!” I yelled.

  There was a moment’s pause and I felt a wind brush my face. “I was afraid this might happen,” Athala sighed. “The enzyme bends all light around the subject, which means light cannot get in, therefore you cannot see.”

  “You knew this would happen?”

  “Not for certain; I thought perhaps your eyes would somehow be blocked from the enzyme’s effects,” she replied. “Apparently that is not the case.”

  “You tell me this now?” I was livid.

  “If I had told you before, you would not have taken the potion and if we are to get into Wiese, you must,” Athala calmly explained. “I do not see why you are upset; there are worse things than being blind and it is almost certainly not permanent; the birds do not remain invisible.”

  “They don’t go blind either!”

  “There is probably an enzyme around their eyeballs that prevents that,” Athala explained. “Or they actually do go blind. They never seemed particularly interested in running away, I noticed.”

  “Wonderful,” I growled.

  “It is good you agree,” Athala either missed or ignored the sarcasm. “Now take off your clothes.”

  “WHAT!?” I would’ve strangled her if I could’ve seen here.

  “The potion turned you invisible, not your clothing. Floating clothes will attract at least as much attention as an Alkite and completely defeat the point of the potion,” she pointed out. “Besides, no one can see you so what do you care?”

  “It’s the principle of the thing,” I rebutted weakly. She made a good point.

  “The principle? You gebraten idiot,” she swore. “Who gives a schaf about the principle if you are dead? I am tired of you damn principles nearly getting us killed. If you are so stuck on following your rules, your precious princess will end up dead, and us too. Is that what you want?”

  “Well, no but—”

  “No ‘buts’ gebraten,” she warned. “Take off your clothes; no one can see you so your schaffing dignity is intact.”

  Athala made it clear she wasn’t going to take “no” for an answer. She was also right; no one could see me so why was I so uncomfortable with it? Reluctantly I took off my clothes.

  I had thought my thin shirt with the Eisenberge underclothes provided little protection; I was wrong. As I shivered in the cold, thin air, I was really glad no one could see me.

  “Now what?”

  “You will have to trust me,” Athala told me. I felt hands patting my shoulders that slid down to grasp my own hands. The sorceress placed them on her shoulders. “Stay very close behind me and I will be your eyes,” she ordered.

  I didn’t have much of a choice, so I latched on and we made our way to the gate. Being blind was surreal. On the one hand, I was totally helpless and dependent on Athala for guidance, not a place I wanted to be. If she led me wrong, if she was lying about me being invisible, I had no way to defend myself. My life was completely in the hands of a sociopathic sorceress.

  Yet we soon became totally synced. I could tell by the tensing of her shoulders when she was about to step left or right or stop. My hearing, although still not recovered fully, sharpened and I could sense people coming together around us. Without being able to see, I knew when we had joined the line.

  The irrational thought that I wasn’t actually invisible flashed through me. I dismissed it, reasoning if I wasn’t, then I’m sure I would’ve had people yelling about it. Then another frightening thought hit me.

  “How long does this last?” I hissed to Athala.

  “Long enough, now shush,” she hissed back. I had learned to interpret those vague answers as Athala-speak for “I don’t know.” Not exactly comforting.

  We shuffled along at an agonizing pace. Every second felt like a lifetime as I waited for people to start screaming about the naked Alkite appearing in the middle of the road. Nothing happened. Instead, people occasionally bumped into me or stepped on my bare feet, which were starting seriously ache.

  We came to a sudden halt and I felt Athala’s shoulders tense. Something was happening ahead. Not having a clue what added to my already heightened tension and I dug my fingers into Athala’s shoulders, earning a warning grunt.

  “You there, come here,” a sharp, commanding voice ordered from somewhere to our left. Suddenly, Athala jerked towards it, throwing me off balance.

  “Ya, sir,” she said in a meek voice. I didn’t know she did “meek.”

  “Name and city,” the officer demanded.

  “I am Tabea of Gletcher,” Athala answered.

  “Gletcher? That is Athala’s region,” the man noted, perking up slightly.

  “It was until the Mistress deposed her.” She spoke calmly, but I felt her muscles tensed. Her unceremonious dismissal was still a sore point.

  “That is a wicked scar you have got there,” the man said.

  “Ya,” she said, “the life of a shepherd is a hazardous one.”

  “You know, Athala has a scar exactly like that,” he remarked. Now I was tensing.

  “A wound like this is easy to get,” she replied with remarkable cool.

  “Uh-huh. Are you traveling with anyone?”

  “Do you see anyone with me?” she answered.

  “Did you see an Alkite or Athala?” he pressed

  “An Alkite? In the Eisenberge?” she snorted, feigning disbelief.

  “According to General Fulco, Athala is tra
veling with an Alkite,” the officer reported. “I take it you have not seen either?”

  “No. Are Alkites as hairy as they say? Like a dahl with the attitude of a boar? I heard they are especially ugly.” Reproachfully, I dug my fingers into her shoulders. She was enjoying this too much.

  “You would know more than I,” the officer looked pointedly at the armor.

  “This old thing?” She patted her front. Wait, was she wearing my armor? “A relic from the war. It is not as fine as Eisenbergian armor of course, but it keeps the tigers and bandits at bay and the price was right.”

  “So you have never met an Alkite?”

  “No, of course not,” she attempted, poorly, a silly giggle. “The trader I bought this from might have but that was years ago.”

  “Perhaps, shepherd,” acknowledged the man. “Speaking of which, what is your business in Wiese?”

  “I am meeting up with three other shepherds and we are transporting a flock to Gletcher,” she promptly supplied.

  “Very well, I will not keep you,” he informed Athala. “Continue on.”

  I let out a sigh as Athala pulled me along, earning warning growl. Athala insisted on a steady even pace, which drove me nuts. I wanted out of there before the potion wore off!

  After a couple hundred meters, we suddenly began moving in a chaotic route through the crowd, going left, right, left again, backwards, and so on with no apparent destination in mind. Athala picked up the pace too and I was having a hard time hanging on with the randomness.

  “Where are we going?” I asked after our sixth left turn.

  “Nowhere in particular,” she whispered back. “I am trying to make sure we are not followed.”

  “I thought we got through?”

  “Perhaps, perhaps not,” she replied, slowing. “It is possible the guard bought my story. But it is also possible he did not think it wise to challenge me; instead he would have me followed and send word to Aidan. So long as we are in the city, we are trapped.”

  “Wonderful.”

  “I think we have lost any pursuit,” she declared. “Now we must find safe place for the potion to wear off.”

  “Funny you should mention that,” I remarked, blinking as I saw faint light, slowly turning my black world to gray. “I think I’m starting to see again.”

  Athala’s shoulders wrenched out of my hands as she whipped around to face me. “SCHAF!” she swore. Then grabbing my hand, she yanked me to my left.

  The gray light faded a bit and judging by the smell, I supposed we were in an alley. Something squished under my foot and I had the sudden urge to be sick.

  “Quick, get dressed,” Athala began tossing me clothes.

  “How visible am I?” I asked as I finished dressing a moment later.

  “Still hard to make out, but enough to see someone is there,” Athala judged. “You look rather like a ghost.”

  “It’s something, I suppose. Anyone see us?”

  “The street was empty so I do not—”

  We both froze as we heard the familiar sound of heavy boots marching toward us.

  Chapter 19-Athala

  “Can you see?” I hissed.

  “Well enough,” Zimri responded, holding his hand out for his sword. Reluctantly I handed it over. “What are we up against?”

  I peeked around the corner of the alley. “Three of them,” I reported, “and they are escorting a girl.” That got my attention. “We have to rescue the girl.”

  “What?” Zimri gave me an amused look. “You? Want to rescue someone? Has the world been flipped on its head?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I do not have time for your jokes,” I growled. “If you want to save your kingdom, not to mention your princess, we must rescue the girl and do it now!”

  “How—”

  “I do not have time to explain. Just go!”

  Zimri shrugged and dashed into the street. While he could be mule-stubborn, once set in motion, he moved with the speed and ferocity of a dragon. Targeting the middle soldier, he leapt into him, slamming his full weight on the soldier’s shield. The soldier toppled over on top of the girl, eliciting a yelp from her.

  The Alkite turned on the far soldier while the near soldier tried to come up behind him. That was my opening and I dashed forward, grasping the soldier by the neck before he could react.

  “Tod,” I spoke, feeling his life force, such as it was, flow into me. It felt good to have something finally in my magical reserves after two weeks of surviving on solely my own life force.

  Meanwhile Zimri had hacked through his opponent’s left arm, dropping the shield. The confused soldier swung at him with his spear while Zimri dodged for a couple heartbeats. Then he ducked inside the man’s reach and drove his blade up under his breastplate, slicing through most every major organ, heart included. Quickly Zimri withdrew and retreated out of reach as his enemy quickly bled out.

  By now the middle soldier had managed to get to his feet and seemed confused which of us to attack first. Zimri feinted a charge which made up his mind. While the soldier turned to face Zimri, I raced up behind him and drained his life force too.

  “Well that was…messy,” Zimri remarked, cleaning his scimitar.

  I nodded, looking at the massive pool of blood from the first soldier soaking into the beaten earth. Frowning, I drew my dagger and quickly slashed the throats of the other two, letting as much of their blood as possible drain out. That earned me a raised eyebrow.

  “It will not fool an experienced eye but it will raise fewer questions than two dead bodies with no explainable injuries,” I explained. “Now help me drag the bodies into the alley.”

  Zimri nodded, his normally insufferably cheerful face grim. It took us a couple more minutes to get them sufficiently stowed. Hopefully no one had witnessed the fight.

  “I think my eyes are almost back to normal,” Zimri remarked, squinting and blinking. He looked just about normal. “You are wearing my armor!”

  “Huh? Oh, ya,” I started pulling the mail shirt off and handed it over.

  “We need to have a chat about personal property,” he remarked as he donned the scale shirt.

  “I had to put it somewhere,” I retorted, crossing my arms and tapping my foot.

  “Excuse me.”

  Both Zimri and I started in surprise. We had expected the girl to run off out of terror or common sense. Instead, I found myself looking down into the sparkling yet fearful blue eyes of a scrawny redheaded girl of about ten or eleven.

  “Excuse me, can you help me?” she spoke in a quavering voice and grasped my hand.

  The power of her life force nearly knocked me over. It was so pure, so strong. With this, I level mountains and raise seas. I might even actually stand a chance against the Mistress. I could take her place and make Zimri my puppet king, instead of hers.

  “Of course, we’ll help you,” Zimri answered as he cinched up the armor. “But what could you’ve done to get in so much trouble?”

  The girl gave Zimri a wary look and tried to hide behind me. “What is wrong with his skin?” she asked in an attempted whisper but it was loud enough Zimri heard.

  I expected Zimri to get angry at the obvious insult but instead he threw his head back and laughed. He did that a lot and it was annoying. Then he flashed her his brightest and most disarming smile. Something else he did far too often for my liking.

  “Nothing’s wrong. I just spend a lot of time in the sun,” he replied, coming closer and dropping into a squat. The girl still kept me between them. “Do you want to touch it?” he asked, rolling up his right sleeve.

  The girl stared at the brown arm with a mixture of horror and fascination, chewing her bottom lip. Finally, curiosity won out and she reached out and tentatively touched his arm, instantly recoiling. Then, when she realized it didn’t actually hurt her, she more boldly rubbed his arm while Zimri watched with that insufferable grin.

  “Hey, that’s my skin!” he protested with a smile, pulling his arm away. “I
t’s the only skin I’ve got and it’s not going anywhere, unless you rub it off. So why were the soldiers after you?”

  “I do not know,” she replied. “Why is your skin not hot?”

  Zimri’s eyebrows knit together. “Huh?”

  “Did you not have to be baked to get so brown? Like bread?”

  Zimri looked even more confused.

  “You are a gebraten, ya?” she questioned, looking equally confused.

  “Baked? Is that what gebraten means?” Zimri looked up at me.

  “It means ‘baked one,’” I explained the slur.

  Zimri frowned. “I take it that isn’t a compliment.”

  “No.”

  “Well, I wasn’t baked,” he turned to the girl, smile returning. “I was born this way, just like you were born all pink and white.” He added a poke at her, which made the girl giggle.

  “We need to leave this street before someone comes along,” I rolled my eyes. We were wasting time. “Come on.”

  The girl gripped my hand tightly, looking up at me with a grateful smile. “My name is Helga,” she introduced.

  “Zimri,” the Alkite grinned at her. “And this is Athala.”

  I wanted to strangle him.

  “Uh, not the sorceress,” Zimri attempted to quickly correct, “A different Athala.”

  “I know she is the sorceress,” Helga replied with an indifferent shrug. “I already saw her use magic. I am not afraid of her; she saved my life.”

  Oh the irony, I thought to myself as we ducked through an alley into another side street. Zimri quickly pulled his hood, obscuring most of his face and tucked his arms in. That disguise, such as it was, wasn’t going to last long. We needed to get off the streets and quickly.

  “Wait here,” I instructed Helga as I led us into an alley. “We need to talk alone for a moment.”

  Helga shrugged and Zimri gave me a curious look but followed me a further in.

  “What’s on your mind?” he asked.

  “Zimri, we have an opportunity here,” I dropped my voice to a whisper. “With a life force as powerful as hers, we could teleport directly to the Eisenpalast.”