The Child Prince (The Artifactor) (26 page)

“It’s a sad thing to hear, I know, child.” Kybartas nodded, commiserating. “I don’t know how you’ll manage in the future, I truly don’t.”

“Yes, sir.” Bellomi didn’t know what else to say.

Morgan tapped the counter with a hand. “No use worrying about it now. We’ll just go on as we always have and hope for a miracle. Now, Master Kybartas, give me specifics and let’s see if I’ve got it on me.”

They went about bartering and dealing, eventually leaving Kybartas with a healthy stock of items, before stepping back outside. Bellomi hadn’t ended up saying anything more until the door chimed shut behind them.

“Shocked, Prince?” Morgan murmured to him.

“It shouldn’t be like this, Morgan.” Bellomi stared around him at the people passing by with new eyes. “What have they done to my country?”

“Nothing but evil, unfortunately. Why do you think I talked Sevana into going and rescuing you? I saw better than she what the future would hold if I didn’t.”

So he had Morgan to thank for that? In a way, he wasn’t surprised.

With renewed determination, he hefted the bag higher on his shoulder. “I will speak with more people today. I need to. I want specifics of what’s been done in the past ten years.”

Morgan blinked at him, surprised. Then he gave a slight, respectful bow. “As you wish.”

The rest of the month passed by slowly in something of a blur as one day melded into the next. The matron, Eva, did indeed come up and started preparing all of the meals. She and Sevana got into several fights about “off-limit areas” and “stop this insane cleaning compulsion of yours!” but eventually the two women sorted out their differences and life once again fell into a routine.

While Bellomi did leave most of his father’s care to Eva, he couldn’t do it completely. He helped shave and dress the man every day, and helped again to settle him in at night. Day by day, the king gained weight and vitality and it eased his heart to see it. At this rate, they could leave for the waterfalls in another three weeks or so. Sevana had said as much.

But after a month of lessons, training and research, Bellomi needed to get out and breathe some fresh air. He’d been going out regularly with Morgan, still continuing his ‘real life lessons’, training with the swords, and going to the library on a weekly basis (whether he actually needed to or not) but for once, he felt like doing something alone. Just to give his mind some rest from dealing with another personality. He volunteered to go to market for Eva, pulled on his boots and swords, and headed for the front door. Halfway there, it occurred to him that Sevana might need something too, and he deviated his path toward Sevana’s workroom.

While waiting for the king to recover, she had returned to her usual projects, so knocking on her door contained a certain amount of danger. Ready to duck at a moment’s notice, he very timidly rapped on her door with his knuckles.

Sevana must have heard the soft
tap tap tap
as she called out, “Enter!”

Well, she didn’t
sound
upset…it should be safe enough. He cracked the door wide enough to poke his head in. Far from being involved in some outlandish experiment that only she would understand, Sevana instead had a clock’s pieces strewn all over the table. One of her clock portals, perhaps? Breathing easier, he pushed open the door and stepped in completely.

“What are you doing?”

Not straightening from her hunch over the gears in her hands or looking up, she answered, “Being awesome. What are
you
doing?”

He snorted. “Being amazed,” he responded dryly.

“Is that why you’re interrupting me at this very delicate moment?”

“Actually, I was heading into the village to pick up some things for Eva and I wondered if you need anything?”

She paused with three gears balanced in her hands and finally looked up. “Actually, I do. Get me some dye: indigo and yellow to be precise. The biggest bottles they have.”

“Alright. Anything else?”

“No, that’s all.” Her attention shifted back to the project in her hands.

Mentally adding that to his shopping list, he stepped back out and closed the door behind him.

With the shopping list he had, Bel needed to stop at the general store, the butcher’s, and the farmer’s stand for a few vegetables. He chose to shop by location as the stores lay more or less in a straight line from each other. The late summer season still retained considerably heat, although it was no longer scorching hot, just warm enough to make a trickle of sweat trail down the middle of his back. Perhaps coming to the market in the middle of the day hadn’t been the best of ideas.

Trying to narrow his vision, lest the jarring colors eventually blind him, he went about his shopping, idly scheming to himself as he haggled over the goods. If he did this quickly enough, he could venture by the library and see if Hana were about. He had, after all, ordered a book from the library the last time he’d been in Milby. (What he’d ordered, he couldn’t remember. But that wasn’t important anyway.)

Bellomi used every trick of bargaining that Morgan had taught him and got in and out of the market in record time, his basket on his arm heavy with goods. Pleased with himself, he crossed the street from the general store and onto the brick sidewalk of the other side, heading for the two-story library on the corner.

“Bel?”

He turned and lit up with an automatic smile when he saw who was calling him. “Hello.” Judging from the basket of books on her arm, Hana must have been in the middle of her usual book deliveries about town.

“Hello,” Hana returned the greeting with that pretty smile she always gave. But this time an edge of worry creeped in. “Bel, how are you?”

His smile slipped a little. Why did she look at him like that? And that question had more weight to it than a casual inquiry. “I am well. Why do you ask?”

She bit her bottom lip and looked both ways before bending slightly to put her head more at his level. In a confidential tone, Hana admitted, “You’re growing too fast. At first, I thought it was just a growth spurt. But now I’m afraid for you. You’ve gained four inches in the past two months, Bel. That’s not natural. You must be hurting.”

She had
no
idea… Bel grasped her hands and looked up at her with a panicked smile. Really, how did he respond to this? Morgan had drilled it into his head that a smart man never, ever lied to a woman or left her with the wrong impression. Dire consequences came hand in hand with that. He’d been forced to mislead Hana, but even if he had a good reason for that, he didn’t think she’d just calmly accept it. Well…maybe she would. If she understood what was really at stake, that is. Not that he could tell her all of that.

“Bellomi?” she prompted, looking even more worried now, her grasp on his hands tightening to a near painful level.

He didn’t want to leave her with a vague assurance that would leave her dissatisfied. But admitting outright that he lied…he concealed a wince. Maybe, half the truth? “It’s alright. Hana, I feel that I can trust you with the full truth. If you want to know, that is.”

Her eyes narrowed. “The full truth. And what is that?”

He gulped around the lump that had magically formed in his throat. Here went nothing. “The truth is, I’m not really Sevana’s apprentice.”

Her eyes grew round. “Oh! We all thought it strange. But then, why…?”

“She said that to protect me and to deflect annoying questions.” Thinking about it, he added ruefully, “Mostly to avoid the questions, really.” He smiled crookedly when she laughed in understanding. “You know her, so I don’t think I have to explain. But you see, I was hit by a curse many years ago that prevented me from growing.”

“Oh? Like the Child Prince?”

No one ever used his name, did they? He’d never once heard it. No wonder he could use his real name around town without attracting any attention. He found her reaction heartening. She didn’t
look
mad…maybe he was safe from her ire after all. “Very like that, yes. Sevana picked me up because no one else could figure out how to help me. She still hasn’t broken the curse on me, but she’s found a way around it. I sleep on a special bed at night that allows me to grow. So really, the growth might be strange to you because it’s so fast, but all I’m really doing is making up for lost time.”

She thought about that for a moment, turning it over in her mind, before slowly nodding. “I see. In that case, I’m glad that she’s helping you and that you’re finally growing. I won’t worry about this. Sevana is…an interesting woman…but she knows what she’s doing.”

Interesting woman, eh? “She’s certainly that.”

“Bel…” she bit at her bottom lip again before venturing, “Can I ask how old you are?”

If he answered honestly, it might be too much information. His age plus his name plus the nature of his curse would give anyone the right information to figure out his true identity. So he hedged a little when he answered. “About twenty.”

For some reason, this shocked her more than anything else. She actually swayed for a moment, as if her knees went weak. “
You’re my age?!
”

He grinned at her. “Close to it.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “I thought you were too mature for an eight year old, but…but
twenty
….”

“How old do I look now?” he asked hopefully.

She stopped and really regarded him, as if viewing him with new eyes. “I would say eleven. Perhaps even a year older.”

He let out a breath of relief. His mirror had said the same thing, but that could have been just wishful thinking on his part. Bellomi had always looked a little young for his age—he doubted that would ever change—but he wouldn’t really care as long as he looked like an adult.

“Hmmm,” Hana’s eyes narrowed in growing suspicion. “Twenty, eh?”

He felt pinned in place by that look in her eyes and gave her a trapped smile. “Yes?”

“I’m just realizing how much you’ve been taking advantage of that innocent-supposedly-eight-years-old appearance of yours.” She gave him a pointed look, one eyebrow arched in silent challenge.

Blast. She’d put that together faster than he thought she would. Bellomi cleared his throat and looked elsewhere, pulling Baby’s trick of radiating innocence.

Hana shook her head, eyes briefly on the heavens as if wondering what to do with him now. “You could have told me from the beginning, you know, that you were cursed and what your real age was.”

“Well—” His defense died unspoken as from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the gold on white uniform of the palace guard. He turned sharply, carefully keeping his hands away from the swords on his back.

A full squadron of five men, all of them looking travel worn and a little rough with half-grown beards and dirty uniforms. To see them here, on the other end of the country, meant they had travelled quite some distance. Bellomi knew why: they were searching for their king.

A cursed prince who couldn’t age being kidnapped from the palace would be one thing. But the king disappearing? Even the Council couldn’t cover that up forever. And with no member of the ruling family in the palace, Windamere must be in a state of martial law. The statutes of this country were quite clear about that. With martial law in place, the Council couldn’t issue any commands that didn’t relate to the recovery of the royal family. With their power abruptly yanked from their hands, they must be beside themselves by now.

“Hana, have you seen palace guards here before?”

“No,” she responded slowly, a note of confusion in her voice. “No, I haven’t. Has something happened, I wonder?”

Oh, something’s happened alright.
Bel’s eyes darted about. He needed to get out of the village.
Now
. He didn’t think that anyone would recognize him, especially since he’d finally grown some, but he didn’t know what their orders were. The Council might be satisfied just getting him back.

To Hana, he faked a quick smile. “Well, I’ve got everything I was sent to buy, so I’m going back. See you, Miss Hana.” He turned without waiting for her response and started walking as normally as he could for a back street, hoping to avoid the guard’s line of sight.

“Hey! You! The boy with the two swords on his back!”

Obviously, he hadn’t moved quickly enough. Swearing mentally, he stopped and turned, doing his best to look surprised and a little confused. “Me, sir?”

One of the guards, a man in his late forties, with a greying beard strode across the street, eyebrows furrowed deeply. “Yes, you. Who are you?”

“I’m Bel, Artifactor Warran’s apprentice,” he answered half-truthfully.

The guard stopped in front of him, looking him over from head to toe in a very thorough scrutiny. “You bear a remarkable resemblance to our prince.”

Bel blinked, as if in genuine surprise. “Really, sir? First time I’ve heard that.” Bugger and blast, was this guard old enough to remember him pre-curse? It looked like it, although after ten years, the man’s memory must be a little hazy. Or at least he hoped so.

“How old are you?” The guard still had that look on his face as if he were holding a mental debate with himself.