4: Apprentice

4

APPRENTICE

 

 

“When you know a thing, to hold that you know it; and when you do not know a thing, to allow that you do not know it—this is knowledge.”
-Confucius

 

 

 

          Emma slept restlessly that night, tossing and twisting in her sheets. She woke several times to a strange, unearthly voice in her head. It was the most beautiful and the most horrible sound she had ever heard. It was like a drug. It hurt her ears, so much that she wished only for it to go away, to be silent once more. But when it did, she wanted nothing more than to hear it again. It was calling to her, speaking to her. But the words got all jumbled in reality, and Emma tried desperately to sleep.

          It seemed like she had only just nodded off when she felt sunlight on her cheek. She groaned: this was going to be a very long day.

“I know, it’s awful. But Telliandra wants me to take you to the market to get some new clothes.”

Emma sighed inwardly. Cassidi was going to get extremely annoying after a few more mornings like this.

Lyulf touched his nose to her cheek. “You really should get up, Emma.”

          Emma flung the sheets back and marched to the toilet room. She did not feel like shopping this early in the morning!

          A shirt, tunic, and breeches lay on the stool beside the mirror. Emma eyed them quickly before relieving a full bladder. Not bad. Grey, and too big, but at least they weren’t hideous.

          She dressed and combed her hair and marched back into the bedroom. Cassidi was grinning ear to ear and giggling girlishly. Emma wanted to throw something at her.   

“And just what in Flora’s name is so funny?” She demanded, her hands on her hips, just like her mother had done whenever she and Ty were sharing a private joke.

Cassidi started laughing again. “You! You’re just like Telliandra in the mornings: grumpier than death itself.”

“If Telliandra is so grumpy in the morning than why did she make me get up so early?”

This sent both Cassidi and Lyulf into fits of laughter. Emma stood, hands on hips, until they decided to tell her what was so funny. Cassidi was first to recover.

“But its not, Emma. Its past noon!’

Emma felt her cheeks turning red, and chose not to say anything in reply.

          Emma went over to her dresser and put on her strayr jewelry, picked up Matathulaz and the dagger, and put them on her belt.  Cassidi raised a brow at her weaponry.

“A little young to be carrying around a sword like that aren’t you?”

          Emma put her hand around Matathulaz’ hilt. No one was going to take it away from her.

“It’s not mine. It’s my brother’s, since he’s cuChulainn now. I’m keeping it safe until I find him.”

Cassidi didn’t say anything, just picked up a cloth bag and beckoned for her to follow.

 

 

 

The streets of Tanackniatah were littered with tents and camps and Mythics of all sorts, some Emma had only heard of. She had seen a Traok once before, when she was very small. They looked very much like a Mati, as most Hemyths did, but they sported a long, silky tail sprouting from the small of their back. Many elves were here, woodland, plains, mountain and marshland. (Emma had never understood why they were called by different names; they all looked the same.)

Kahlycs and Dwarves weaved through the crowds. Emma had always been fascinated by the two races’ relationship with one another. Kahlycs were quiet, tall, graceful, while dwarves tented to be short, stocky and outspoken. Yet the two peoples had been living together for so long that they spoke the same language. Both were traditional miners, who worked the same mines as partners and friends. They lived in the same cities and protected each other’s honor fiercely. Just one of the wonders of the Mythics.

          Traders and gypsies had come here for shelter, and to liven the mood a little they had opened their shops and sent out their storytellers, keepers of legends and history, to tell tales to the ones who would listen.

          Batin, with their fox-like ears and attitude, mingled with a few centaurs, a long-time friend in war and ways.  Pentalangaes, winged people of the north (which stupid humans often mistook for what they call ‘angels’), towered over the crowd, pushing their way through with a recklessness that comes with beauty. 

          What was extremely funny to Emma was that there were so many refugees in the city that there were more of them than there were Mati. She stared at the foreign races with awe, knowing where Cassidi was going only because she kept her fingers wrapped in Lyulf’s fur. She was so entranced by what she was seeing that she ran right into a blonde-haired boy a few years older than she was.

          Those who had seen it laughed as the boy helped Emma up off the ground where she had landed.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t see you coming. I mean, I was watching the…”

“It’s okay. Geeze, no one’s going to arrest you or anything. “ He squinted at her as if he was near-sighted. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. You just roll in, or crawl in, or whatever you prefer?”

Emma blinked. That was the strangest thing anyone had asked her so far.

“Um, I walked actually. From Ujin Hra. I got here yesterday.”

The boy’s eyes grew wide. “From Ujin Hra? You walked all the way from Ujin Hra? That’s like four thousand miles, at the least!” He squinted at her again. Emma took a closer look at this boy. He was tall and gangly, and had fallen victim to a very long, slender nose. His hair was long, almost shoulder-length, and messy as if he ran his fingers through it often. His eyes were a deep amber. 

“You’re only like eleven, right?” He asked her. Emma nodded.

“Damn. You must be cuChulainn’s daughter then, right? I thought so. The whole city’s talking about you. Telliandra’s apprentice. You must have impressed her!”

Emma tilted her head in confusion. “She doesn’t take an apprentice very often?” 
It was the boy’s turn to stare. “She never has. You’ll be her first.”

Emma could have fainted, but held her grip on the ground. Telliandra’s first apprentice? That was a high title.

“My name’s Tor Khellesctherh, of the Glassweaver Train. And yours?”

Emma stared at him (hadn’t the whole city been talking about her?) but answered anyway. “Emma Cyton, of Ujin Hra. You’re a trader?”

He nodded. “And proud of it!”

“Emma!” Cassidi came running up to her. “I thought I’d lost you! I see you’ve met Tor.” Lyulf licked her hand, then whined softly as Tor’s familiar sauntered up behind him.

          It was a tiger. A big tiger. For a few moments Emma’s mouth was left hanging open. A tiger? Somehow that was not what she had imagined Tor’s familiar to be. Then something else struck her: it was full-grown.

Emma looked up at Tor again. “How old are you?”

Tor blinked, surprised. “Nineteen.”

          Again Emma was shocked into letting her mouth hang open. Nineteen? Emma had only thought he was sixteen, seventeen at the most. He definitely didn’t look nineteen!

Cassidi patted her shoulder. “It’s okay, love. He shocks everyone like that. Doesn’t look a day older than seventeen, Wynnoa curse him…”

Tor looked up at the sky, as if he was asking the goddess why she had done this to him. “I am nineteen, and I’m sure of it. Geeze. Don’t know why people can’t get that through their thick skulls.” He glared menacingly at Cassidi when she laughed. “Where are you two headed? Looking for clothes, I expect? Well then, you’d better stick with me. I speak trader.”

          Emma and Cassidi followed Tor through the crowd, Lyulf and Semel, Cassidi’s ferret familiar, keeping well away from the tiger.

“Her name is Maleshen. She came to him when he was fifteen.” Lyulf told her.

Fifteen. He was pretty powerful for a trader.      

Tor led them to a little booth full of fabric, measuring tapes, and pins. Oh lord, Emma thought. She hated getting measured.

“Mornin’ Ulrid. Emma here is looking for new clothes. You know, Telliandra’s apprentice? Think you can fix her up?”

          A short women with curly grey hair, beady black eyes almost lost in her lined face, and a long nose made to be looked down, inspected Emma up and down, head to toe, then disappeared into the wagon behind the stall. Tor leaned casually on the table and looked over the fabrics with a critical eye, stroking Maleshen. A born Trader. 

          Ulrid came back a few minutes later with a bundle of clothing in her arms. There were three pairs of good leather breeches, ten shirts, five white, five dyed; ten tunics, hair ties, kerchiefs, and underclothes. On the top she placed a silver pendant, a wolf’s head, emeralds set in for eyes. She shrugged.

“I thought you might like it, with that ink you got all over your arm. Now, I’ll give you the whole lot for sixty gold and not a piece less. They’ll all fit. I guarantee it. The maids in the castle can sew Telliandra’s colors in. When you grow out of them just come back to me and I’ll fix ‘um, free of charge. I don’t think I’ll be leaving here again, so you don’t have to worry about that. Do I have a deal?”

Cassidi looked at Tor to see if he approved, and he nodded vigorously. Apparently they were getting a good deal.

          Cassidi opened a purse bulging with gold, and handed the price over to Ulrid. The woman tucked it away into her own purse and bowed as she handed the bag full of clothing over to Cassidi. “Pleasure to please you.”

Tor bowed back. “My purse is lighter for a reason just.”  It was common Trader etiquette, used at the end of a fair deal.

Cassidi slung the bag over her shoulder and told Tor to find the best tailor.

“Cassidi, that wasn’t your own money was it?”

Cassidi laughed. “I wish. No, that was the money Telliandra sent with me for you. Anything we don’t use after we’ve bought all the essentials is yours to play with.”

She looked ahead to see if Tor was out of earshot. “Have you started your monthly sign of womanhood yet?”

Emma cringed and nodded. That unpleasant surprise had occurred last month.

“Well, you’re an early bloomer! I didn’t start till I was fourteen. If you need anything for it just ask me and I’ll get it for you.” Emma nodded again.

          The tailor’s was just a little ways away from Ulrid’s cart. Boots, belts, and an odd assortment of other things made of leather filled the tables.  Tor went right up to the tall, burly man in charge.

“Come ‘ere girl. Let me ‘ave a look at you.” He sat her down in a chair and put her foot on his knee. “Do these fit? Or Are they a little small?”
”A little…” Anything else she would have said was drowned out in the tailor’s laughter when he saw the bottom of her boots, and the leather that had been nailed sloppily to the bottom.

“Where in Adesina’s name did you get that done?”

Emma wrenched her foot away from him. She had thought that the strayrs did a good job, considering that they had never tried to make boots before. “I lived with strayrs for a time, sir. I would appreciate it if you didn’t laugh at my friend’s handiwork.” 

Something in the little girl’s eyes made him lean back slightly in his chair, like an invisible power had pushed him back. Something in her voice and the way she looked at him made him suddenly want to look away, and yet it held him there.

“Now, child, I meant no offense. Now let me just go see what I have back here for you.”

          He presented her two pairs of boots, a belt, and a long, hooded jacket that reached down to her ankles. Hurriedly he put them into a bag that he said was on him, and asked for forty-five in gold. Cassidi dealed out the money and Tor ended the deal, then the three were off.

“Well, “ said Cassidi, “I wonder what got into him.”

          When Emma complained of a rumbling stomach the three stopped at a vender’s for some seasoned pieces of chicken, speared on a wooded peg. Emma wished longingly for strawberry sauce.

          Tor led them away from the crowded streets, to a place that overlooked a fast-moving river. The three ate in silence until Emma said between chewing,

“Tor, where’s your train? I’d like to see it.”

Maleshen growled quietly.

“My train is gone.” He said stiffly. “The humans attacked it a month ago. Everyone died except me.” He smiled grimly at her. “Looks like you and I have something in common.”

 

 

 

“Well, Emma, we got everything we had to get. Is there anything you wanted extra? Anything catch your eye?”   

Emma thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. “I think I’m too tired to do anymore shopping today, I’d like to save it though, if I could. It’d be nice to have something in my purse, in case one day I need it.”

Cassidi nodded. “I know how you feel. It’s always nice to know that you have it, even if you don’t actually need it.” She handed the purse over to Emma. “Its yours. Now lets get back to your room, shall we? I think its time to make it your own.”

          The two girls walked back to the castle, observing the different refugees idly.  Tor had bid his farewells after lunch, saying he had business to attend to.

The castle was booming with life: healers running here and there, maids and servants yelling orders and smart remarks at each other. Cassidi and Emma climbed up the stairs.

“Now, time to make this place a little more homely.” Said Cassidi after they had dropped their burdens on the bed in Emma’s room. “Got anything to put on the dresser, or the shelves?”

          Emma pulled the strayr’s bag of gifts out from under her bed. The lucky figurines were still in there. She put them on her dresser, all spread out like a little town. She got out her “green things” and put them in between the figures. The candy and jewelry went into one of the drawers. Emma searched around the bottom of the bag for the bottle of ink and her hand hit something square. Frowning, she pulled out the unknown object.

          It was a box, hinged and beautifully carved, about as long as her hand. Curious, she opened the lid, and found a fortune in stone. The little emerald was smooth, like polished glass. The most beautiful “green thing” she had ever seen.

She couldn’t help it: the tears just came.

          Cassidi sat down on the floor beside her and put her arms around her, rocking her like her mother would have done. “It’s gonna be okay, Emma. They’ll be okay. You’ll find your brother. We’ll all help. No one should have to live as a slave. Nobody. Don’t worry. It’ll be okay.”

          Emma held the jewel close to her, both hands wrapped around it, and fought for control. She got it, after some struggle, and a kerchief from Cassidi. Things would be okay. She let herself believe it, even if it seemed like nothing would ever be okay again.

 

 

“There. That’s a little better.” Cassidi overlooked their work pridefully. The clothes had been put away, the jacket hanging on a peg beside the mirror. The strayr ink, Metethiet’s flute, the box and the emerald, the dagger, and Matathulaz all lay on the night stand beside Emma’s bed, her not quite sure where the safest place for them was yet.

She had tried the clothes on and all had fit perfectly, just as Ulrid had promised. She had liked them so much that she was now wearing a white cotton shirt and her new breeches, along with some very comfortable socks. Cassidi had braided her hair for her, and tied it with a pretty braided tie, beaded at the end. The wolf pendant hung around her neck. 

Someone banged on her door. Cassidi went over to answer. She spoke for a second with the servant playing messenger, then shut the door.

“Telliandra wants to see you in her quarters. Looks like your first lesson is about to happen. Better put your boots on and scoot. She doesn’t like to be kept waiting. “

          She should have been scared, nervous, at least. But she wasn’t. Telliandra Lightsword couldn’t do anything worse to her than what the humans had done already.

          Emma strapped Matathulaz and the dagger (she really should come up with a name for it) to her belt. The other things sat unprotected on her nightstand. Emma glared at them like they were doing something wrong.

          The door banged again, and Cassidi wrenched it open, annoyed at so many visitors. Emma looked down at Lyulf.

“How do I do a protection spell?”

Lyulf cocked his head a little to the side, like he was thinking. “Draw power into your hand.”

          Emma looked inside herself, pulled a thread of green fire out of her cor. She ordered it into her palm, where it glowed like a real flame. She had learned long ago not to “ask” her magic to do anything. As she got more practiced her magic became more powerful.

“Good. Now shape it into a sphere. Weave it.”

          Emma weaved. She pulled and pushed it into a fiery, if somewhat lumpy, sphere.

Cassidi and the servant she had been talking to were staring at her, but Emma was too involved in her spell to notice, or to care.

“Close enough. Now, keep just one, thin string in your hand. Good. Throw-guide the rest onto the table.”

          She did so, making sure to keep that one string attached to her, or she would not be able to unravel the spell.

“Good! Really good! That was great, Emma!”

          Emma sat down on her bed, exhausted. Only then did she realize that she had an audience.

Emma stared back. “What?”

Cassidi’s eyes were wide. “Emma, you just did a protection spell! I couldn’t do one of those ‘till I was fifteen! And not as good as the one you just did, either!”

She grabbed her arm. “Come on. Telliandra’s waiting.”

          The halls were pretty much empty. Not much happened on the fifth floor. Cassidi led her up a short flight of stairs leading to a plain, white door.

“This is her room. I have to go help make dinner, but if she kills you I’ll drag your corpse away…” She laughed at the expression on Emma’s face. “Kidding, kidding! You’ll be fine! Good luck!” She climbed back down the stairs and disappeared around a corner.

          Emma stared at the door, and tried to work up enough nerve to knock. 

Funny, she thought to herself, after all the things I’ve been through lately and I’m too afraid of a self-centered Queen to open a door.

          She lifted her arm to knock, determined, and someone grabbed her wrist and pulled her arm backwards. Hard.

          Emma didn’t scream, like most girls would have. She bit her lip and kicked whoever it was in the chin. Her chest burned like it was on fire as her attacker kicked Lyulf away and the wolf flew down the stairs.

“You can’t hurt me, girl. What business do you have outside of Telliandra’s quarters?” It was a man’s voice, soft but fierce, and sort of unearthly.  Emma tried to draw Matathulaz with her left hand, but the man grabbed that wrist, too, quicker than Emma could react.

The door flew open infront of her face, and there was Telliandra, looking like she was ready to kill something. “RISHKA! Let her go NOW!”

Rishka let go immediately. Telliandra’s eyes had turned to fire. “What are you doing?”

“She was going into your quarters, Telli. Probably an assassin or something.

Telliandra sighed heavily, rolling her eyes. “She’s my apprentice you idiot. Who in blazes would want to kill me?” Apparently Rishka didn’t have an answer for that. She groaned. “I’m sorry, Emma. He hasn’t seen you yet. This is Rishka, the spirit I captured.”

Emma’s eyes widened and she spun around to look at him. He had taken the form of a Mati. He was taller than Telli, with dark hair and black eyes. And there was something odd about the way he looked, not quite right. Sort of hazy. A spirit, for sure. But the most powerful spirit ever found? A spirit that had wreaked destruction on Earth for hundreds of years? Somehow this was not how she had imagined him.

          Lyulf had recovered, and licked her hand softly. She stroked his coat and ran her magic over him, making sure that he was all right.

“Come in, Emma. Better get started. I just want to see how much you can do already. You comin’ pea-brain?” She added when Rishka just stood there.

          Telliandra’s room was not what Emma expected. Stuffed animals lined the little shelves on the walls, tucked among the swords and bows. The fluffy things were all over the place; on the desk, on the bed. There was even one large one on the floor. There was also a very large collection of paintings, models, and glass figurines of black panthers.

          Rishka went over to the desk and opened the drawer, pulling out a little handful of candies. He then took the glass of milk that had been sitting on the desk and sat down cross-legged on Telliandra’s bed, leaning against the panther that lay there.

Telliandra raised an eyebrow. “Comfortable?” Rishka smiled crazily at her.

          Lyulf whined softly at Emma’s side, staying a good distance away from Bregia, Telliandra’s familiar. The panther looked at him with bluish-purple eyes, but didn’t seem all that interested. Emma was rather nervous around him, too. He was a lot bigger close up.

Telliandra sat down next to Rishka, propping one leg up on the other knee. “Well? Should I go through a list or would you rather just show me? Or I could probe your mind, if you like.”

It took Emma a second to recover from that question. “Um, I think I’d like to hear the list, please.”

Telliandra went through “the List”, and Emma would nod yes or no.

“Healing and protection? That’s it? Or is that just all you’ve tried?”

Emma blushed. “That’s all I’ve tried, miss.”

Rishka said something in a very smooth, flowing language. Telliandra chose not to reply.

“What kind of healing can you do?”

“Bites, cuts, broken bones, rashes, a few sicknesses, and, um…that’s all I’ve ever tried to do.”

          Telliandra got up and circled her several times. “Can you use that blade? Or do you just carry it around for looks?”

Emma bristled. “My father was teaching me before he died. But it’s not mine. It’s Ty’s.”

“You any good?” Emma looked down at her boots.

“That’s okay. You will be when I’m through with you.” She walked over to her desk and pulled out a disk on a long chain. “First lesson: My name is not ma’m milady, miss, Queen, your highness or any other thing of that matter. It’s either Telli or Telliandra and that’s final. Also, you can’t be afraid of me. I’m not gonna bite your head off or anything. It’s extremely hard to teach someone who flinches every time you look at them.” She put the chain around Emma’s neck. “This shows that you are my apprentice. If anyone ever questions you, just whip this out.”

She stepped back to look at her pupil. “It’s gonna take some work, and it will be hard work, but I think I can make a Master-Sayge out of you. Well then, Emma. You are now Apprentice Emma Sarasi Cyton of Ujin Hra.”