An Unexpected Apprentice (12 page)
Read An Unexpected Apprentice Online
Authors: Jody Lynn Nye
In a moment not one, but two equally gigantic men in livery appeared. The top of Tildi’s head was level with the hilts of the swords they wore on their hips.
“Please come with us,” they said in unison. One of them relieved her of her pack and handed it to the other.
Goggle-eyed, Tildi followed them. Once inside, they gestured for her to precede them. Uncertainly, Tildi ventured along the polished floor. They moved so silently that she had to glance back occasionally to see if they were still there. They nodded for her to go on.
The hallway, as broad as her farmhouse kitchen and about eight times as long, had a gorgeous polished floor that appeared as though it was made of a single piece of wood. Of course, she chided herself. It was cut into the wood of the tree! This elegant entry terminated in a broad, smooth staircase covered with a gorgeous carpet patterned with millions of tiny flowers stitched from every color under the sun. The first tread seemed too high, but the second step was just the right height for her, and so were all the rest. Could they be adjusting themselves to suit her smaller reach? It wouldn’t be impossible, in the house of a great wizard. It was a long way up, but she had had several days of hauling a heavy weight up and down slopes. Her cheeks were warm by the time she got to the top landing, but she wasn’t breathing hard. The footmen hurried ahead of her to open the white-and-silver paneled doors at the end of the corridor. Feeling like a clod of mud at a wedding, Tildi marched past them.
She found herself in a study filled floor to ceiling with bookcases on every wall. A globe of the world sat in a handsome chestnut-colored stand with models of the sun and both moons hovering around it. She felt a faint twinge of surprise to note that the daystar cast light over the portion of the globe it was near, and the two moons appeared to be playing a stately game of tag around the belt at its center. No wires or threads supported them. Just under the window was a crystal table with spheres of crystal standing upon it, catching the afternoon light. Each transparent orb was a different color. As she watched, the hues deepened or paled. She wondered what they were for.
The noise of a throat being cleared brought her attention to the center of the room. Before her stood a great carved chair whose upholstered back soared up and curled back over on itself like a parchment scroll. Seated in the chair was a lean human male with weathered hands and face, long white hair, and a silky beard that started under high cheekbones and fell down past his waist. Tildi could not even begin to guess his age. He was clad from neck to ankles in a soft silk robe with wide sleeves, almost exactly the same color as Silvertree’s bark. His eyes were the most exceptional thing about him, piercing, bright green, with long, black lashes and curling gray eyebrows like storm clouds. He was tall for a human. Even seated he looked down upon Tildi.
“Well, I’m Olen,” he said. “What is it you want?”
“I …” Tildi’s mouth went dry. The wizard held out the letter. She pointed at it, all her assured and practiced phrases deserting her. Words rushed out. “Yes, that’s me. I’m here to take up my apprenticeship. As you offered. To learn to be a wizard. Too.”
“I see.” Olen regarded her owlishly as if she was an interesting specimen of insect. “Didn’t know you were a
girl.
I thought Teldo was a boy’s name.”
girl.
I thought Teldo was a boy’s name.”
Tildi started in alarm. “I’m not a girl, I’m a boy.”
The green eyes narrowed. “Nonsense, I know a girl when I see one. I may be old, but I’m not blind. Or …” he offered, a bit more gently, “perhaps you were raised not knowing the difference? Children with an inclination toward magic are often backwards in other ways.”
Tildi felt her cheeks flame with embarrassment. This must be one of those times to take Irithe’s advice to let go of a secret. Above all things she did not want to anger the wizard. “No, sir. I know the difference.”
Olen’s eyes widened again, and the hint of a smile lifted the silky mustache. “Good. Then let’s not have any more argument on that front.
Life’s confusing enough, and magic requires precision. You must know that from your reading. Ah ah ah! Who brought that inside?” He glared suddenly. “I do not like that kind of thing here. Silvertree dislikes them.”
Life’s confusing enough, and magic requires precision. You must know that from your reading. Ah ah ah! Who brought that inside?” He glared suddenly. “I do not like that kind of thing here. Silvertree dislikes them.”
“What?” Tildi asked, turning around hastily, but she saw nothing.
“Why, this creature,” Olen replied. He spread out his fingertips and pointed. Beside Tildi the air began to glow. An outline etched itself in tongues of red flame. She jumped back.
“The
heuren!
” she exclaimed.
heuren!
” she exclaimed.
“Ah, so you’ve seen it before, have you?” Olen flicked his hand and the creature rose in the air and revolved slowly before him. “You know its name?”
“Irithe told me. She is an elf. I came part of the way with her, from Rushet.”
“Did you? How interesting. They rarely find smallfolk interesting. Nor humans, for that matter. You must be a remarkable young woman. Or she is, having the patience to speak with outsiders. I don’t know if I’ve ever met her. Must check my daybook. Oh, no, I can’t have that.”
The
heuren
had flared out suddenly, its flames threatening to engulf them both. Fearing another burn Tildi dodged away from it. Olen did not flinch at all. He closed his hand slightly, and it receded to its original size. Tildi watched with fascination. Containing the creature seemed to give Olen no trouble whatsoever. She was determined to learn how to do that.
heuren
had flared out suddenly, its flames threatening to engulf them both. Fearing another burn Tildi dodged away from it. Olen did not flinch at all. He closed his hand slightly, and it receded to its original size. Tildi watched with fascination. Containing the creature seemed to give Olen no trouble whatsoever. She was determined to learn how to do that.
“They’re nasty little things, no soul at all,” Olen said. “It’s a fragment of a natural consuming force, and as such is attracted to certain kinds of destructive power. How did it come to follow you, of all people?”
“It appeared in the forest above the Arown when I made a fire. By magic. To make tea,” she added, as the wizard’s thick eyebrows rose.
“A most practical enterprise,” he said gravely. “Did you draw wards before you cast your spell? Create a protected space for yourself?”
“Er … no. I didn’t know I needed to do that.” Tildi felt her cheeks burn fiercely. That was a bad answer. It struck her Teldo probably did know to draw wards, and how to do it. “I was just making tea. I poured water on the beast, and it went out. I thought I killed it.”
“Ah. It takes a bit more to kill a
heuren.
” Olen closed his fingers and the fire-demon winked out like a snuffed candle. “As thus. But you could have avoided it altogether, you know. You must always remember to draw wards. You know the basic spells, I presume?”
heuren.
” Olen closed his fingers and the fire-demon winked out like a snuffed candle. “As thus. But you could have avoided it altogether, you know. You must always remember to draw wards. You know the basic spells, I presume?”
“Er … they’re in my lesson book.” It was an equivocation, less believable than asserting she was a boy since it was delivered with no kind of conviction that she had actually read the lessons, but Olen accepted it. Tildi was relieved.
“Of course. In the meanwhile, I will draw wards. Watch me.”
Olen raised one of his long hands and pointed toward the wall of the window.
“Crotegh mai ni eng.”
The pale sunlight seemed to dim slightly. He repeated the gesture toward each of the walls of the room, the chant varying slightly with every direction. Tildi promptly forgot the words, and hoped that Olen would not be angry if she asked him to repeat them later. The runes were very like the ones she had seen in the gates of Rushet, and in Master Wim Cake’s peacemaking charm. No wonder the
heuren
had not dared follow her there.
“Crotegh mai ni eng.”
The pale sunlight seemed to dim slightly. He repeated the gesture toward each of the walls of the room, the chant varying slightly with every direction. Tildi promptly forgot the words, and hoped that Olen would not be angry if she asked him to repeat them later. The runes were very like the ones she had seen in the gates of Rushet, and in Master Wim Cake’s peacemaking charm. No wonder the
heuren
had not dared follow her there.
“Very well, that will shield us from most magical invasion,” the wizard said, nodding to her. “Show me this fire.”
Tildi had never been more nervous in her life, nor had anything hung upon her performance as at this moment. She had danced and sung before people, she had demonstrated embroidery, weaving, metalwork, cooking, all without embarrassment or fear of failure, but making magic had so long been a private thing between her and Teldo that it was difficult to open the circle to one more person, and that person held the key to her future. This should have been Teldo’s apprenticeship. He should be the one standing in Olen’s study, performing with much more confidence than she felt. She was there under false pretenses. Yet, if the thraik had not come, she would have been content to stay at home with her other brothers, and wished Teldo all the success in the world. Still, from beyond, he had given her one last gift, an opportunity. That she must work to make it come true on her own.
This is for Teldo,
she thought. Boldly, she held out her hand, palm up. Olen watched her from under his curling eyebrows. Tildi felt panic in the pit of her stomach. What if the magic wouldn’t come? Her fears were only that, fears.
Ano chnetegh tal!
As she thought the ancient words, the green flame flared up in the middle of her palm. She was pleased to see that it was larger and brighter than her earlier efforts. All that practice had done her some good. She looked up at Olen. He looked pleased.
she thought. Boldly, she held out her hand, palm up. Olen watched her from under his curling eyebrows. Tildi felt panic in the pit of her stomach. What if the magic wouldn’t come? Her fears were only that, fears.
Ano chnetegh tal!
As she thought the ancient words, the green flame flared up in the middle of her palm. She was pleased to see that it was larger and brighter than her earlier efforts. All that practice had done her some good. She looked up at Olen. He looked pleased.
“I see. Very curious that it is green. Say aloud to me the words that you used.”
Carefully, Tildi recited the spell. Olen nodded. “Again, please. I want to listen.” He closed his eyes and put his chin in his hand, stroking his
mustache thoughtfully with thumb and forefinger. He had her repeat the phrase again and again. Every time she said it the flame grew larger than her palm and threatened to pour off it like a handful of pancake batter. She tried to catch it in her other hand, but to her non-spell flesh it was just as hot as real fire.
mustache thoughtfully with thumb and forefinger. He had her repeat the phrase again and again. Every time she said it the flame grew larger than her palm and threatened to pour off it like a handful of pancake batter. She tried to catch it in her other hand, but to her non-spell flesh it was just as hot as real fire.
“Master Olen,” Tildi began, as a gout of it dripped down between her fingers, lambent honey about to drip to the floor.
“Say it again,” the wizard said, waving his fingers. “There is something in your pronunciation. I wonder if it’s the product of how you were taught to speak, or just the shape of your palate. It should not be coming out green.”
The blob of flame dipped down, stretched into a filament. Any moment it would let go.
“Master Olen!”
Olen opened his eyes at last. “Oh, look at that,” he said. “Tal cretegh!”
The flames went out just before they reached the rug. Tildi let out a sigh of relief.
“A most interesting phenomenon, and one that I will look forward to studying with you, Teldo.”
Tildi flinched. She could not see herself going through the next several years being called by the name of her dead brother. She held up a finger. The green eyes fixed upon her.
“Well?”
“Um, it’s Tildi, not Teldo.”
“Not Teldo?” the wizard echoed, sounding puzzled. “I was sure I could read your language. I thought I was corresponding with a Teldo Summerbee. Ah, these old eyes.” Olen peered at the letter of invitation and turned the sigil this way and that to make sure. Tildi knew that the rune was formed correctly, and hoped the wizard couldn’t read her mind. Her personal tragedy was something she would keep to herself. “Ah, well, but smallfolk culture is not my primary study. There are a finite number of wizards in the universe, powerful and connected to the infinite, and we have many matters that consume our valuable time.”
“I won’t take up more time than you are willing to give, sir,” Tildi said, alarmed. “I will be grateful for anything you will teach me. I have come so far. I can’t go back. Please, sir, I will cook and clean for my place. I know you must be disappointed to discover I am only a girl … .”
Olen seemed genuinely taken aback. “No! What a silly idea. Where did you get it?”
“Well, the men in the Quarters do all the important jobs, and wizardry is certainly one of the most important occupations I know of, but I thought, I have … some aptitude for magic. Perhaps it is like brewing or gardening, that if I have the talent I can do it. I will do my best for you.”
Now Olen was amused.
“I’ve never heard wizardry compared with gardening; brewing, now there’s an apt simile. I shall have to share that with my correspondents. Hm.
I
don’t mind a girl as an apprentice, Tildi—Teldo. Your assumption is correct: if you can do magic, then you are meant to do it. Your sex does not matter. The talent is present in so few we must nurture it where and when we can. You have an exceptional natural ability. You were right to come.” He held out his long hand. Tildi extended hers, which was swallowed up in the warm, dry clasp. “Very well, I accept the terms of your apprenticeship as offered. Welcome, Tildi. You will not find me a bad master.”
I
don’t mind a girl as an apprentice, Tildi—Teldo. Your assumption is correct: if you can do magic, then you are meant to do it. Your sex does not matter. The talent is present in so few we must nurture it where and when we can. You have an exceptional natural ability. You were right to come.” He held out his long hand. Tildi extended hers, which was swallowed up in the warm, dry clasp. “Very well, I accept the terms of your apprenticeship as offered. Welcome, Tildi. You will not find me a bad master.”
Tildi was overwhelmed with joy. “Thank you! Oh, thank you! I will do whatever you wish!”
Olen shook his head. “You will learn to do what is
right.
That is far more important. You will learn to make the distinction. There may come a time when you may contradict me.”
right.
That is far more important. You will learn to make the distinction. There may come a time when you may contradict me.”
“I would never do that, sir,” Tildi said nervously. Contradict a master wizard on a subject of magic? It was not at all like telling off one of her brothers when he tracked mud into the house. “But I shall try, sir, I promise!”
“Hmmph, yes. Save your energy for your lessons. Perhaps we will start at once. I presume you can read human runes.”
“Yes, sir. A little. A little dwarvish, a little elvish. Not much else.”
The eyebrows rose again. They had a life of their own, Tildi decided, like the globe and its revolving spheres. “Hmmph. I thought you were better educated than that, from your letter. Still … show me.”
He reached around to a small writing table that sat beside the crystals and retrieved a sharpened quill for her.
Other books
Doc Savage: The Ice Genius (The Wild Adventures of Doc Savage Book 12) by Kenneth Robeson, Will Murray, Lester Dent
Valdemar 05 - [Vows & Honor 02] - Oathbreakers by Mercedes Lackey
Summerkill by Maryann Weber
Kentucky Showdown by J. R. Roberts
I Want to Kill the Dog by Cohen, Richard M.
Home Is the Sailor by Lee Rowan
Rock n Roll Babes from Outer Space by Linda Jaivin
Seaglass Summer by Anjali Banerjee
Bloodling Wolf by Aimee Easterling
Highland Chieftain by Hannah Howell