Magician’s Apprentice Chapter XXXV

The story so far: Tollon’s quest to slay a dragon has been delayed as he finds his old school devastated by the vanishing sickness. Now read on . . .

“Ovad.”

When he briefly reappeared from the vanishing sickness, Honorable Dickat Strunstur said “Ovad.” Or something like that. It clearly meant something to him, for he was learned in many fields. But to Honorable Alencar or me? Nothing.

Alesca Alencar thinks it too dangerous for me to stay at the school, and sends me back to the village. She herself stays behind, hoping Strunstur might yet reappear again, or that she might otherwise obtain clues as to what happened to the people who had vanished.

I stop at the more disreputable of the village’s two inns, figuring they are more likely to talk about what was known or rumored about the school. After a fair amount of drinking, and my demonstrating one or two simple magic tricks, the innkeeper and his pals admit that two refugees from the school had made it to town, but had vanished shortly after arriving. And my fellow drinkers assure me that the refugees had really vanished, and not been robbed and murdered, because they admit they are the people who would have committed those crimes.

Oh, and they invite me to rob and murder the village bailiff with them. We’ve all been definitely drinking too much. They take my refusal surprisingly well, and even forget to threaten me not to tell the bailiff.

I decide I might overstay my welcome if I sleep there, so leave and wake up the bailiff at his house instead. The man is the village’s miller, muscular and foul-mouthed. He recognizes me from years ago, when he threw me into the river after I’d played a prank on him. It takes me a while to convince him I’m not playing another prank. I tell him what I know about the school. He tells me the only people he knows of who went out toward the school to see what happened never came back. And he dismisses my warning that some people want to murder him for his money. “Oh, that lot. I’d like to see them try it. I’d smash their brains out against the millstone, except they don’t have any.”

One doesn’t make good mileage on the road at night. So I lost a day, two days, really. It’s four days later I finally ride into Velgard, to the home I grew up in. Well, house; it wasn’t much of a home after my mother died. My brothers all picked on me (save Zarsin) because I was the smallest and smartest. And my father thought me mostly useless for the same reason. He couldn’t believe his good luck when Sarton asked to take me as an apprentice.

I’m in luck: four of my six brothers and four of my six sisters have moved out. My father, stepmother, and eldest brother all offer me a cold welcome. The twins, Zarsin and Zarsa, have never been interested in anyone other than themselves, so they just smile at me in unison and go back to staring into each other’s eyes. The only one who’s happy to see me is Jallia. And I am happy to see her.

Jallia has my coloring, the only one of my siblings who does, which has always been sort of a bond between us. She’s lively, smart, and has a wicked sense of humor. With so many of our siblings gone, she has a room of her own, where we go after supper to talk for hours. Much of it is just catching up. Jallia is changing from a girl to a woman, and she’s starting to turn heads. And we even talk about that sort of thing, which to my surprise I don’t find embarrassing, even though Jallia is my sister.

And then Jallia casually asks, “Tollon, why are there two women haunting you?”

(To be continued . . .)

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Magician’s Apprentice Chapter XXXIV

The story so far: Tollon, the magician’s apprentice, is on a quest to kill a dragon. Along the way, he stops by his old school to say hello, only to find it deserted. Now read on . . .

Holding my sword high, I step deliberately (euphemism for slowly and with great fear) toward the front of the chapel. As I get there, the door opens before my very eyes. A wraithlike figure appears in the doorway. And then it emerges . . .

. . . out into the sun, where it turns into the Honorable Alesca Alencar, the oldest, palest member of the school’s faculty. Honorable Alencar’s hair is so white, her skin so pale, she has been mistaken for a ghost before, which makes me feel better.

I sheath my sword and bow. “I am happy to greet you, learned lady.”

She looks at me, dubiously. And then she recognizes me. “It’s little Tollon!”

Coming from someone who stands maybe four-foot-nine, this bites. Yes, I was even shorter back then. No, it is not true I participated in dwarf-tossing contests at school by taking the part of the dwarf. I try to swell up to my full height. “I’m not so little anymore.”

She laughs. Honorable Alencar laughs like a teenaged girl. She steps forward until we’re a comfortable distance from each other, looking me over all of the while. She says, “You have grown. You look better-fed, too. But what are you doing here?”

I look around, “I thought I was coming to visit my old school, but I haven’t gotten much of a greeting from anyone.”

“Of course not. They’re gone.”

Yeah, I figured that. So I reply, “That I surmised. But where and why?”

She looks about, and with a worried expression on her face, says, “Come into the chapel, and we’ll talk.”

It’s a small chapel, like this one in Guernsey

So I follow her. No one else is visible in the chapel. She walks down all the way to the altar, takes the seat behind it on one side, and gestures for me to take the other. Once I’ve sat down, she says, “You honestly don’t know what happened here?”

I nod.

Her lip curls in disappointment. “That’s too bad. It means no one got away. It was the vanishing sickness.” She sees my look of disbelief and shakes her head. “Really, Tollon. People would suddenly convulse, and then they were gone! I saw at least a score of them go. People immediately fled to town. I guess none of them got there.”

“They might have,” I admit. “I didn’t talk to anyone in town. But, learned lady, the vanishing sickness? Really? There hasn’t been a case of that for centuries.”

“Three-hundred-sixty-one years, to be precise.,” Honorable Alencar replies. “But I saw what I saw.”

“How is it you’re still here?”

She shrugs. “I decided to put myself under the protection of the god Thessar. So I came here and made a sacrifice.” She holds up her left hand. It is missing the little finger. “There was nothing else closer to hand.” She smiles. Honorable Alescar always did like a joke. “But you managed to come here. Been around the campus?”

I nod.

“Then it might have stopped. Then again, it might have left you alive in hope that you’d take me some place where I’d be vulnerable.” She looks pensive.

“Well, I hope it is gone.”

She shakes her head. “Let us hope not. Otherwise there will be no way to retrieve everyone.”

I lean forward, putting my hands on top of hers which are in her lap. “Honorable Alescar, they are dead. The vanishing sickness takes them, and none has ever returned. You must know that.”

“Oh, Tollon, Tollon, if it were true, I’d leave with you now, no matter the risk. But there was Strunstur. After he disappeared, he managed to come back for a moment. He started to say something, and then he vanished again.”

(To be continued . . .)

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Magician’s Apprentice Chapter XXXIII

The story so far: Tollon has been sent by his master, Court Magician Sarton, to get some dragon’s teeth by killing a dragon. And he got an unexpectedly warm send off from his ex-lover, Paviara. Now he confronts a highwayman . . .

“Stand, and deliver,” shouts the robber.

I look behind me. There’s no one else there. So I put on a bold front. “I think not. I think I’ll get down off my horse and skewer you precisely through the throat, just for practice.”

“You’ll be dead before you get off your horse,” replies the robber.

He has a point. Well, two of them, if you count the one at the end of his sword. Time to put some magic into practice. Just a little trick: cause his sword’s pommel to heat up.

My robber yells, and drops his sword. I say to him, “Are you going to get out of my way, or do I turn you into a pillar of fire?” When he hesitates, I raise my left hand, as if to strike him down. My bluff works. With another yell, he runs off into the woods on my right, and is gone from sight.

I get off my horse, and (carefully) pick up the discarded sword. It’s actually a very fine piece, probably an Etralstan officer’s sword, to judge from the quality and pommel design. Which raises the question of where the robber got it. Etralsta is far to the west along the Green Sea, and we haven’t fought a war with them in decades.

Still, it’s a better blade than mine, and it’s even lighter, which matters when you’re as slight as I am. I remove my own sword, tie it to my baggage, and store the Etralstan sword in my scabbard. That leaves the robber without one. I don’t pity him for the lack.

It’s strange. I’m not in a hurry to go fight a dragon. In fact, the idea still scares me. And yet, once I get back on my horse, I feel the need to hurry on my way. I eat my lunch in the saddle, and give the horse as few breaks as possible. So I’m saddle-sore when I reach an inn just about nightfall.

The landlord tells me they haven’t had much trouble with highwaymen, and can offer no insight on my would-be assailant. He catches his daughter, who is my waitress, flirting with me, and gives her a horrible scolding, telling her she shouldn’t want to sleep with every tramp on the road. And then he spends half an hour apologizing to me, saying he wasn’t implying I’m a tramp. Since I get a free beer from him by way of apology, I bear him no ill will. The daughter is noticeably absent when I am served breakfast the next morning.

My third day on the road is uneventful. By the fourth, I’m leaving the woods behind, and climbing up into the foothills of the Farasi Mountains. On the fifth, I reach the village of Tebestora. It’s time for a rest, and I know exactly where to get the best one: the Tebestora School. So I turn off the main road, go along a well-known dirt road, and cross over the saddle into the Tebestora Valley. The school is spread out below me. It hasn’t changed, at least not from this view.

I got most of my education at Tebestora. It was my mother’s dying wish I be sent to school, and my father, for once, spared no expense. Not to pat myself on the back too much, but I was clever, and excelled in school. I expect a warm welcome from some of the teachers there.

I am to be disappointed. As I get closer, I notice a curious lack of activity. I hear no one stirring at the school. When I take the last corner on the path, I see the main building. It looks deserted. The front door is wide open, but there is not a soul to be seen.

I get down off my horse and draw my Etralstan sword. I tie up my horse out front, and enter into the main school building.

(This deserted building is actually in New Jersey.)

If it weren’t for the lack of people, the school would look normal. There are lessons on some boards. Books and personal items, as one would expect, are scattered about the building. It’s as if everyone suddenly got up and left in the middle of the day, leaving everything behind but the clothes they were wearing.

There’s one obvious possibility: plague. People would leave in a panic as quickly as possible. But where are the bodies of the first victims?

I check the dormitories, the infirmary. No one. The faculty housing, the gym, the administrative building, the laboratories. Nothing.

Finally, with a heavy heart, I go to check the graveyard. There is one fresh grave. No headstone.

And then I hear a noise from the chapel in the middle of the graveyard.

(To be continued . . .)

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Magician’s Apprentice Chapter XXXII

The story so far: Tollon is getting sick of dragon’s teeth! He got into trouble while trying to find some, back a few months ago. Now his master, Sarton, wants him to go directly to the source. Read on . . .

“Kill a dragon myself?” I manage to get out in a weak voice. “I could get killed trying!”

Sarton leans back in his chair and laughs. “Suddenly not so full of yourself, eh, boy? But you’re ready. And it needs doing. There’s a dragon out in the Farasi Mountains that will soon be a major threat to the kingdom if it is not eliminated. And that’s your old neighborhood. You’re the perfect person to go kill it. You wouldn’t want it to kill your family, now, would you?”

You don’t know my family very well, Sarton. Not to be too blunt about it, I wouldn’t object to several of them becoming dragon snacks. But then there’s Jallia, my youngest sister. So, point taken. “I’ll need to make preparations.”

“You have three days,” is all Sarton says.

§

A horse, a sword, a book, and a hefty purse: the essential equipment for going off to kill a dragon. Sarton springs for the price of a change of clothes with the chilling words, “Whatever you’re wearing when you fight the dragon will probably be soaked in dragon blood. Assuming, of course, that they don’t burn with your corpse.”

I’m leading my horse out of the stables when I hear my name called in a familiar voice. I turn, and smile, for it is Paviara. She runs up to me, breathless, and gives me a hug. “I heard you were going off on a trip, and I didn’t want to let you leave without a goodbye kiss,” she tells me.

I’m confused enough that it takes me a bit to figure out what to say. “Um, well, I’m off to the Farasi Mountains to kill a dragon. But when I come back, I’d like to see you again, Paviara. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too, Tollon,” she says, giving me another hug. “I would have seen you sooner, but Lady Gwella caught me trying to steal the dragon’s teeth.” She gives me an uncertain smile. “She made me tell her why. And then she forbade me to see you. But I had to see you before you left!”

We mumble a bunch of other things, nothing important really, kiss, and then I mount my horse and ride away, not without a few backward looks at Paviara. She stands there, waving at me, and I can hope everything will be all right when I return. If I return.

I think a lot about Paviara as I ride out of the city. She was willing to steal the dragon’s teeth even when she must have thought I had betrayed her. Wow! Talk about love. But then what about Willins? And Paviara said not a word about Elfra or Mia. My good mood vanishes. However happy Paviara is at the moment, there’s a still a reckoning to come between us. Still, I hope Lady Gwella does not discover Paviara came to see me off.

Tollon feels a bit like Don Quixote

My first day’s ride is through wine country. It’s a warm day, I make good mileage on the Tulavian Way, and stop at a good inn for dinner and sleep. The waitress flirts with me. I was imagining I could have some romantic adventures on the road, but thinking of Paviara puts me off trying to make a play for the waitress.

On my second day’s ride, I turn off the Tulavian Way to take the road toward Velgard, where I grew up. It’s still a good road, if not a busy one. Good enough for robbers to frequent. Which is why I find myself facing one after only two hours in the saddle.

(To be continued . . .)

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Magician’s Apprentice Chapter XXXI

The story so far: Tollon, apprentice to Court Magician Sarton, has encountered a rogue magician, a fairy, and an angry lover who unleashed a mob on him. If you’ve not read all that, you can find the previous chapters here. Tollon is making progress and getting comfortable with being Sarton’s apprentice. But his troubles are far from over . . .

Time passes, as it does. Sarton teaches me more magic. He has me perform more serious evocations. He teaches me how to create magical objects by harnessing the power of a spirit to attach it to an object. He even starts teaching me how to acquire personal magical power by bleeding it off the spirits I summon.

Another famously unhappy royal couple: Catherine the Great overthrew her husband, Tsar Peter III of Russia, in 1762.

The queen is growing big with child. Officially, the king is the father, although it’s actually the Earl of Haulloran’s bastard. One of the queen’s young ladies in waiting has retired from the court. Rumor has it she is pregnant, too, and about as far along as the queen. Rumor also has it that the child is the king’s. Doesn’t seem as if the royal marriage is going that well. Sarton has started to spend more time observing court politics. He tells me the nobles at court are starting to line up on one side or the other, king’s or queen’s.

My own love life sucks. Oh, I go out on the town every so often. I find a woman who’s willing. But I’m not falling in love with any of them. None of them seem that interesting.

Paviara avoids me. At least she’s no longer seriously involved with anyone in particular. She dumped Willins not long after Mia and I saw them together.

I miss Mia. Funny, we didn’t even know each other that long. Despite the intimacies we engaged in under Vorana’s compulsion, I don’t feel I really knew Mia well. How well can you know a fairy?

Funny thing about Mia. Remember how she told my two “friends,” Broffer and Palt, to forget about her and me? That’s what actually happened. The next time I saw them, they didn’t recognize me. I’m happy about that, at least. Those two were a pair of annoying pests.

And whatever she intended, Lady Gwella has made no move against me. Maybe she never was planning something, or maybe she changed her mind. Sarton tells me she’s intriguing with both political factions. That may be keeping her too busy to think about me.

One day, I’m sitting at my desk, planning a complicated evocation, when Sarton comes back from a royal audience. He sits down, sighs, and gives me an odd grin.

“Politics a bit thick today, master?” I ask.

He raises his eyebrows, then gives a weary laugh. “You could say that, Tollon. I just spent an hour with the king asking me to ruin the queen, and another hour with the queen asking me to ruin the king. I had to lie and tell them that casting a spell to determine the father of a child in the womb is a dangerous operation that could cause a miscarriage. Pfaw!”

I chuckle a little bit. I get the joke. There’s almost no risk to such a spell, and Sarton has already cast such spells to be sure of the identities of the fathers. “They could always apply to Lady Gwella.”

Sarton snorts. “I suspect both monarchs find Lady Gwella’s loyalties a bit too vague to trust her in such a sensitive matter.” Sarton gives a rueful smile, and then sits up and leans forward. “But enough of them. I’ve been watching you, Tollon. You’re doing a good job mastering magic. Wouldn’t you agree?”

I’m so pleased with the praise I don’t stop and think what’s behind it. “I guess so.” Which is the polite way of saying yes.

Sarton smiles at me. “Good. It’s time you went out from the palace and performed a significant magical work in the world, to show how well you’ve learned your lessons. I’ve been waiting for months for some dragon’s teeth. And you still owe them to Tavartet.”

“Not a problem,” I reply. “I’ve heard Jerrod just came back from killing one. He should be easy to find, and I can buy them off him.”

Sarton shakes his head. “No, that won’t do, Tollon. It’s time you proved yourself. Time for you to go out and kill a dragon yourself.”

(To be continued . . .)

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Intermission: The witch Isobel Gowdie

I thank so many of you readers for following the tale of Tollon, the Magician’s Apprentice, for the last thirty days. If you haven’t been reading it, the entire story can be found here. If you have been reading it, know that I’m taking a two-day break. Tollon’s story will resume Tuesday, April 21. Which, rather irrelevantly, is both Queen Elizabeth II’s actual birthday, and the birthday of my deceased mother: they were born one year and 400 miles apart.

I have a history blog as well, Sillyhistory. I’ll be posting articles on the history of witchcraft and witchcraft trials in the coming weeks. This is because I’ll be teaching an online course on that subject at the Cambridge Center for Adult Education, starting Wednesday. You could even sign up for it, if you live in the United States. (Given the Internet’s limitations, I don’t advise foreigners to enroll. My apologies. Maybe in a decade . . .)

One of the witches I’ll be taking about is Isobel Gowdie (c. 1622? – 1662?), often described as the only witch who freely confessed to her lurid crimes. How lurid? Well, here’s the cover of a 1977 novel about her:

Grady Hendrick’s “Paperbacks from Hell” featured this cover to illustrate the art of Rowena Morrill. And the author of this novel is Jane Parkhurst.

The truth is less glamorous. Best guess is that Isobel was in her 40s. There’s no evidence, despite the cover’s claim, that she was convent-raised. She was married, probably just a peasant’s wife with a difficult reputation.

But she does tell an interesting story. She offered four confessions, collectively the longest record of what a Scottish witch claimed to have done. And there were a lot of Scottish witches, so this is no small thing! Yes, she claimed to have sex with the devil. She attended sabbats. She used magic to work evils on her enemies and neighbors. Or at least so she said.

“Freely confessed?” That’s what the notary wrote on her confessions. But it’s suspect. Put someone in a small, dark prison cell, question them repeatedly over weeks, and serve them what probably set a new low for institutional food, and a lot of people will succumb and confess what they’re told to confess. Still, Isobel’s confession includes stories of her interacting with fairies, which she probably volunteered, as her questioners were more concerned with her interactions with the devil.

So scanty are the records that we don’t even know Isobel’s fate for certain. Under Scottish law, the punishment for what she confessed was death. Usually that involved strangling the witch, and then burning the corpse. But truly notorious witches were burned alive. So Isobel probably died not long after her fourth confession. Unless more records turn up, we’ll never know for sure.

 

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Magician’s Apprentice Chapter XXX

The story so far: Sarton and his apprentice Tollon realize that their slave Mia is actually a fairy. They are not sure what to do about it. As if they have a choice! Now read on . . .

(Painting by Jean-Baptiste Santerre 1651 – 1717)

Two days later, Mia is in the library already when I show up for our daily reading. She tells me she has a book for me to read. She hands me an open book. I sit down and take a look. The book is open to a description of fire opals and their magical properties.

I look up. Mia is staring at me with a serious expression on her face. It’s one I’ve never seen before. It’s not just her determined look. It’s as if she is exerting an independent authority for the first time in her life. She’s holding up her left hand so I can see the fire opal ring. I notice the opal is actually glowing a bit.

“How long have you known, Tollon?” she asks.

I don’t try to play dumb. “For sure, only since the day I bought that ring,” I reply.

She nods. “Sarton?”

“Since the day I summoned Grudnostue. Though I imagine he must have suspected before that.” I’m trying to be truthful without causing trouble.

Mia gives a short laugh. It sounds so un-Mia-like. She turns her hand to look at the ring. “Funny how this changes everything. I just thought it was pretty when I saw it in the window of the shop. And then I looked at it in the night, when I was in bed, and I saw things in it.” She looks over at me. “I was scared, Tollon. I hid the ring under my pillow to stop looking at it. But I couldn’t stop.” Mia doesn’t sound scared now. She holds out her hand toward me so I can see the ring. “I can see my people in it. They tell me it’s time for me to come home.” Her expression turns grave. “Is anyone going to try to stop me, Tollon?”

I shake my head. “No. I don’t think Sarton wants to stop you, and I doubt I could.” And then I add, truthfully, “I wish I could. Maybe it’s just as well I can’t. But I wish you’d stay, Mia.”

Mia’s expression softens. “That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” She stands up and comes over to me. I stand up, too. She wraps her arms around me, and in a happy voice says, “Will you kiss me?”

I don’t answer. I just lean down and kiss her. It’s a long passionate kiss. When it’s over, Mia looks into my eyes, and says, “Goodbye, Tollon.” And then she walks out the door and disappears from our lives.

§

I’m not a good journal keeper. Oh, I try. But then I go weeks without writing a thing. But Mia’s departure is an event that definitely deserves an entry:

I once knew a young girl who had been trained as a slave. She would do whatever she was told. Her first owner used her cruelly, abused her, and sometimes even removed her will in order to make her do things. The first time I met her, her owner bent us both to her will, to satisfy her own lusts and savagery. My master bought this young girl, this slave, set her to nurse me, and had her help with my training. She was dedicated to protecting me, and even was willing to kill my enemies. And in the whole time I knew her, she asked me for one ring and two kisses.

She was a fairy. People say they are inhuman. I got nothing but kindness from her. By that measure, she was human. Is human. Wherever she is.

END PART THREE

(To be continued . . .)

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Magician’s Apprentice Chapter XXIX

The story so far: Tollon has just proven to himself that the slave Mia is actually a fairy! And, oh, how much it has cost him! Now read on . . .

Dropping out of Mia’s happiness spell is depressing. And exhausting. I manage to stagger to the library, and drop into a chair.

The room is dark. And then there is light. I open my eyes and see Sarton come in with a lamp. He sits down and gives me a sad look. “You want to tell me about it?”

“Mia is definitely a fairy,” I announce.

“And how do you conclude that?” he asks.

“Her feet don’t actually touch the ground when she walks. Given a choice, she wants to eat only what we’d call ‘dainty things.’ And drinking enough bezrom to put most people under the table only makes her happy.”

“And she makes everyone around her happy, too,” Sarton adds.

“Tell me about it. I saw Paviara with the last possible guy in the world I ever thought she might date, and was pleased as punch she’d found someone to be with.” I shake my head and can’t stop a tear from sneaking out of my right eye. Paviara and Willins, of all guys!

Sarton sighs. “I suppose I should congratulate you on proving this to yourself, instead of just relying on my word. Though you could have asked me how I knew. And, to be fair, I should have explained. It’s just been a while since I’ve had an apprentice, Tollon. I sometimes forget to explain things.” Sarton sounds truly rueful. “Still, if wishing a romantic rival well is the worst thing that happened to you, it was a cheap lesson all around.”

No, it wasn’t. I don’t want to, but I have to say it. “Ah, well, I did pledge myself to pay 15,000 ducats.”

Sarton’s jaw drops open. As well it might. My net worth is probably on the order of 50 ducats. He finally says, “What? How is that?”

I explain. “We were walking by a jewelry store. Mia saw a ring and asked me to buy it for her. Naturally, the jeweler wanted cash, but Mia told him he could rely on my integrity. And I suppose he was affected by her as well, and agreed.” I have a thought and laugh. “In fact, he agreed so readily, I never actually gave him my name.” I’m feeling relieved. Tough luck, jeweler.

Sarton asks, “15,000 ducats for a ring? What does it look like? What’s it made of?”

I shrug. “Copper, old and tarnished, with some sort of dull reddish stone mounted on it. An opal, I think.”

Credit: Wikipedia/LZ6387

Sarton sits back in his chair with a firm nod. “A fire opal. Of course.” He sees I’m puzzled, and adds, “Fairies are instinctively attracted to fire opals because they can work their magic more powerfully through them.” He thinks a moment, then slaps his thighs with his hands. “Do you remember the name of the jeweler?”

I think a moment. “Gaffell of Narnstor. Why, are you’re going to pay him?”

“Certainly not. I don’t have 15,000 ducats to spare,” Sarton replies. “I’ll go see the Court Chancellor and get permission for this jeweler to have a private show here in the palace in exchange for forgiving your debt. Most jewelers would sell their mother for such an opportunity. He’ll easily clear at least 50,000 ducats, if he’s any good.” Sarton nods, and adds, “The best part about this is that Mia is in your debt for giving her that ring, and that’s a debt fairies take seriously.” And then he looks off into the distance, thoughtfully. “On the other hand, it also means she’s that much closer to realizing what she is.”

(To be continued . . .)

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Magician’s Apprentice Chapter XXVIII

The story so far: Apprentice to Court Magician Sarton, Tollon is trying to avoid his enemies, serve his master, and regain his lady love. Now it seems the biggest danger may be Sarton’s slave Mia, who is in love with Tollon. Now read on . . .

Sarton says Mia isn’t human, that she’s fae. So I spend the next few days while we’re together studying magic trying to figure out if he’s right.

The problem with the fairies is that, while they may look human, they ultimately are not, they don’t actually think in the same terms we do, and they are physical spirits who command as much magic as our better human magicians. Superficially, Mia conforms to one common truth about them: they are slight of figure. But that’s not enough to prove what she is.

So a few days later, I take her on a trip into the city. Instead of going directly, we swing down by the river, where I know a stretch of beach and beach grass we can walk along. And as we walk, I steal glances behind us.

There is only one set of footprints in the sand. There is only one set of footprints flattening the grass. Mia is not actually walking on the ground, even though she looks like she is. She’s in bare feet, as always, but her feet are not hard and rough on the bottom. She’s just barely levitating above the ground when she walks. My heart sinks.

But I have other tests, just to be sure. We go to the Great Market and decide to sit down for a meal. I let Mia pick the food she wants to eat. And then I go get our drinks. For me, it’s a cup of white wine. For Mia, I get her a full cup of bezrom. The bartender almost doesn’t want to sell a full cup to me, as bezrom is about 160 proof. I have to pay extra.

When I come back, I tell Mia I’ve bought us both cups of wine. And then we both take a sip.

Any human would recognize what she’s drinking as too potent for wine. Mia doesn’t. In fact, she lights up with a smile. Before the meal is half over, she has drunk the whole cup, and I have to dissuade her from getting another. She’s smiling and happy and laughs and chats, nothing like her usually passive personality. That’s consistent with her being a fairy. They don’t suffer any side effects from drinking alcohol. They just get merry. Supposedly their happiness is infectious, though that seems unlikely. How would they bespell someone when they don’t realize what they are doing?

We’re wrapping up dinner when two of my fellow servants show up. They are not my friends, they usually mean me no good, but I don’t care. They sit down beside us. The taller, Broffer, slaps me on the back and says, “Good old Tollon, always out with another girl.”

I turn and tell him, “She’s my slave.”

Broffer laughs, and says, “Is that what you call her in bed? We’ll have to tell Paviara.”

The other, who is sitting down beside Mia, is Palt. He grins at me and picks up the joshing. “Oh, right, maybe you don’t know, Paviara’s seeing Sergeant Willins of the Palace Guard.”

Mia turns to Palt, and in a mild voice tells him, “You’re trying to hurt Tollon. You don’t want to do that. Why don’t you and your friend just go away and forget all about us?”

To my surprise, the both of them get up and go away without another word. I look at Mia, shrug, and say, “I guess they’re good fellows after all.”

Mia smiles back. “Let’s finish up here and go shopping.”

Which we do. Money is no object to buy Mia whatever she wants. And then we go back toward the palace and take a stroll in the Palace Gardens. Who do we run into, but Paviara and Sergeant Willins?

I perform the introductions, and add, “Palt told me you two are going together. I hope you’re enjoying each other’s company.”

Paviara gives me a very curious look, bestows another on Willins, and looks ready to cry. Mia notices this, and steps up to Paviara, and caresses her face. She says to Paviara, “Tollon wants you to be happy.”

Paviara smiles at that, looks over to Willins beside her, and says, “Thank you. I think we’ll be going now. We have some affairs to tend to.” And the two of them walk off, staring into each other’s eyes.

Gardens and romance have been paired together many a time (painting by John William Waterhouse).

I’m watching them go, happy that they’re happy, when Mia asks me, “You’re still in love with Paviara, aren’t you?”

I turn to her. “Yes, I guess so.”

“Will you kiss me?” she asks.

I don’t answer in words, no. I kiss her. It’s a good long kiss. We spend the rest of the afternoon walking about the Palace Garden, hand in hand, like two young lovers. I may still love Paviara, but Mia is here with me. I can love her.

Mia eventually gets tired. We head back to Sarton’s workshop. She’s so tired by then that I have to help her out of her clothes and into her bed. I tuck her in. She gives me one last kiss, rolls over, and is asleep instantly.

And I snap out of the spell she’s cast over me for half a day.

(To be continued . . .)

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Magician’s Apprentice Chapter XXVII

The story so far: Having succeeded in his first major evocation, Tollon is quite pleased with himself. Sarton is less sure, but for once the problem isn’t Tollon! Now read on . . .

“You two seem to be getting along well,” Sarton observes. It’s a few days later. Sarton fetched me out of the library, where Mia and I have been going over some magic books, for a private conversation.

I nod. “Mia’s not good at memorizing anything, but she makes a lot of good observations about the way magic works.” I essay a joke. “I hope that doesn’t mean you’re going to fire me and take her on as your apprentice.”

Sarton doesn’t laugh. Instead, he looks worried. “No chance of that, Tollon. Mia isn’t human.”

That makes no sense. “Say what?”

The hair and skin color are wrong, but it’s easy for Tollon to imagine Mia as a fairy who looks something like this.

“Mia is not human.” Sarton utters each word slowly and distinctly. “I didn’t have you do a major evocation just to test you. I also wanted to test Mia, to see what happened to her in the presence of a summoned spirit. I had my suspicions about her, and what happened confirmed it. She’s fae. Probably a changeling.”

Sometimes fairies, who are a race of magical beings, swap one of their offspring for a human baby in the crib. Those fairies are called changelings. They don’t have a good reputation.

I say the only thing that can be said. “What do we do?”

“Are you making any progress getting her to stop thinking like a slave?”

I shake my head. “Not even denting it. Any attempt I make to get her to think for her own self-interest, she takes as something she should do to please me.”

“Try harder.” Sarton shakes his head. “I doubt she has any idea she’s a changeling, else she wouldn’t act the way she does. But she’s not stupid. If she tries any magic on her own, she’ll quickly figure it out. And how she’ll react to that is unpredictable. I’d rather she thinks of us as people trying to help her, not just exploiting her, when it comes to that.” Sarton emits a sad chuckle. “I wondered why Vorana was so willing to sell Mia to me. She’s probably congratulating herself for getting rid of a potential problem.”

Sarton is silent for a moment, staring off into space. And then he starts up a new line of conversation. “So you ran into Zilla.”

“Yes. She seems to be running Gehulia by magic and muscle.”

“She’s lived there all her life, Tollon. It’s home to her.”

“You’ve met her?” I ask.

“We’re not good friends, but, yes, I’ve met her,” Sarton replies. “She’s an example of a magician with too little imagination. She doesn’t want to make Gehulia better except in small ways. She’s never been tempted by the spirits, because she hasn’t enough ambition to fall for their traps.” Sarton lets out a sigh. “Sometimes I think I’m too much like her. I try to keep this kingdom running by keeping the court running, but it seems I don’t do all that much.” After another sigh, he goes on. “You, on the other hand, will probably be tempted to meddle when you shouldn’t. And the best we can hope from Mia is that she chooses to leave and return to her folk when she figures out what she is. Otherwise, I might just have to kill her . . . if I can.”

(To be continued . . .)

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