The Child Prince (The Artifactor) (7 page)

“Not a clue.” She looked at Morgan with raised eyebrows.

“I don’t either,” Morgan admitted, “but I’ll find out for you. Stop by the village on your way out of town tomorrow. It shouldn’t take me long to find him, considering how famous he is.”

Was Morgan an information broker? It sounded like it.

“Are you going to take him shopping first?” Morgan inclined his head in Bellomi’s direction in a meaningful way. “He looks like he slept in those clothes.”

He had, actually.

Sevana shot him a falsely sweet smile. “If you’re so worried about it, why don’t
you
take him shopping.”

Morgan heard the unspoken command and heaved himself back to his feet. “Might as well do it now. I’ll learn where Pierpoint is while I’m out. Bel, come with me.”

If it meant getting a better look at the outside of this mountain, he’d gladly go. He didn’t hesitate in following Morgan out of the room.

Bellomi followed on the taller man’s heels without a word passing between them. The path leading up to the mountain was paved with stones—not Big’s work, he would recognize it, this had been done by human hands—so he didn’t have to worry about tripping over something as he walked. His head turned in every direction as he descended the stairs, trying to take in everything at once.

This part of Windamere had open plains for the most part but there were sections of ancient trees nearby and of course a mountain at his back. And…did he smell water? A river, perhaps? It sounded like movement and not the stillness of a standing body of water. The only part of Windamere that had mountains was on the far west border, near the countries of Haixi and Sa Kao. He was a long, long way from home then. That clock portal thing of Sevana’s covered quite some distance.

The path didn’t have any indications of real use or cultivation. Aside from the paving stones, no one would think that anyone lived here. He turned to glance back over his shoulder. Big had recessed the front door so that a casual look wouldn’t reveal it. A man had to know where that door was to be able to access it. Sevana had truly gone out of her way to avoid visitors.

“Is this the first time you’ve been outside Big?” Morgan inquired, slowing his pace to accommodate Bellomi’s shorter legs.

“Yes and no,” he admitted, turning back around before he stumbled on the steps. The path became more winding after that first flat section near the door. If he didn’t pay attention, he’d trip, and it was a
looooong
way to the bottom with some very sharp stones to catch him. “I have come outside several times, but did not venture far from the mountain. Sevana had quite a few choice words with me for doing even that. I’m not…used to the outside world.”

“Probably a wise decision,” Morgan acknowledged with a sidelong glance. “But you need more exposure. You can’t hide in that mountain forever.”

Bellomi met him look for look. “Is that why you brought me out?”

“Well, that, and because you really
do
need more clothes. Besides, this way it’s easier for me to warn you about some of Sev’s more dangerous habits.”

“Like not knocking on her workroom door?”

“Well, not really that one. She warns everyone about that one. It’s the
other
habits, the ones she doesn’t really know she has.” Morgan paused and pointed at the stones under their feet. “Be careful through this section. Some of the stones have worked loose because of the recent rain we’ve gotten.”

Oh. Good to know. Bellomi started paying more attention to where he placed his feet. “What other habits?”

“Don’t wake her up. I mean it. Even if there are thieves inside the caves, even if there is a fire,
do not wake her up
. She’s the grouchiest person I’ve ever seen on waking. And she instinctively turns anyone who does wake her up into a toad.” From the grimace on Morgan’s face, he knew this from personal experience.

Bellomi’s curiosity overrode his courtesy. “Why a toad?”

“First spell she learned to cast,” Morgan answered dryly. “I’ve actually seen her cast it in her sleep.”

Bellomi looked at the man carefully to see if he were pulling his leg. It didn’t look like he was. “Truly?”

He nodded soberly. “Don’t wake her up. Get Big to do it. Even if she gets mad at him, he’s a mountain. He can take it.”

Silently swearing to himself that he’d never go anywhere near her bedroom door, Bellomi asked, “So anything else?”

“She has lots of quirks, but there’s one more dangerous habit of hers. Do you know that old, old song about the sleeping princess who never awakened?”

He had to think back to his childhood, when his mother was still alive. She used to hum it often. “Yes, I do. It’s a sad song. What about it?”

“If you ever hear Sev hum it,
leave
. It’s a danger signal with her. She hums it when she’s contemplating something disastrous and evil.” Morgan actually looked pale as he said this, as if even the memory of previous times unnerved him. “Don’t say anything to her and for the love of the gods, don’t try to stop her. Just find somewhere else to be as quickly as you can. And if, heaven forbid, she starts actually singing the lyrics,
run
.”

Bellomi thought about that as he kept descending the stairs and navigated a sharp bend. “Morgan, with her personality and magical ability, how did you survive to adulthood?”

“I’ve often asked myself the same question. So has most of the village, actually.” He shrugged as if the answer didn’t really matter to him. “But you know, as much as she complains and as odd as she can be, she’s still a good friend. And she’ll move the world for you if you need it moved.”

Bellomi believed that. She had, after all, come to help him when no one else could.

Almost as an afterthought, Kip added, “And if she does accidentally kill you, she’ll revive you almost immediately.”

Bellomi almost missed a step.
I really, really don’t want to know how he knows that.

Just as they came within sight of Milby, Morgan said seriously, “I must tell you that Sevana sent me a note several days ago about you.”

Bellomi darted a look up at him. The man looked slightly uncomfortable. “Might I inquire as to what it was about?”

“She gave me a very short summary of what the past ten years have been like for you.” Morgan chose those words with care, as well he should, considering they were coming into thick traffic. At this hour of the morning, apparently everyone chose to go into the village. Bellomi ducked behind Morgan several times to avoid being run over by carts, horses, and pedestrians.

When they hit a clear pocket again, Morgan continued, “There’s a lot of life skills you’re missing, I think. Sevana suggested that I teach you how to really talk to people.”

How to talk to people? “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand.”

“How to charm them, how to get information from them without raising their suspicions, how to bargain with them, how to read their expressions,” Morgan elaborated. “Humans are complex creatures and dealing with them takes practice. You, especially, are going to need a lot of practice considering what you’ll become in the future.”

Admittedly, Morgan had a very valid point. Sevana clearly realized the same gap in his education for her to send Morgan to him. “I quite agree. Where do we start?”

“Let’s begin with bargaining, since we have to buy a few things anyway.” Morgan ticked things off on his fingers as he walked, warming up to his subject. “A few tips on talking with people. Try to smile as you talk with them, unless it’s a depressing topic, because people like to talk to someone who’s generally of good humor. Look people in the eye when you speak to them whenever possible—it’s easier to make a connection with them that way. It’s also best to start with a compliment, or if that’s not possible, to offer them a compliment in the course of the conversation.”

Bellomi had followed quite well until that point, but he didn’t quite know how to use this last piece of advice. “What kind of compliment, exactly?”

“Depends on the situation and who you’re talking to. If it’s a woman, a compliment on her appearance is always the best. It doesn’t have to be flowery or elaborate, either. Saying, you have a nice smile, or your hair looks quite pretty, or the color of your dress suits you, something like that.”

He had the strangest sense that he needed to be taking notes but nevertheless asked, “And if it’s not a woman?”

“If it’s a man, compliments don’t usually go well. At least, not on their appearance. You compliment things that they have instead. If it’s a tradesman, compliment his wares. If it’s a hunter, or a soldier, his weapons. Do you see?”

“I think I do?” Bellomi rubbed at his chin, considering. “But I imagine that it’s going to take experience before I get the right feel for when a compliment is appropriate or not.”

“That it will.” Bending down slightly, Morgan confided, “And you’re going to have to watch how you phrase things. You don’t speak like an eight year old, but like the adult you are. People are going to find you odd, and no one’s comfortable in the presence of something they find strange. Try to simplify your sentences and don’t use large words.”

Bellomi blinked at him. He had never once really thought about how he spoke. “What words am I using that are problematic?”

“Problematic, for one,” Morgan responded dryly. “If it’s anything more than three syllables, try to substitute a different word. The best thing for you to do is find some children in the village and spend a little time listening to them. Copying their habits is your best bet.”

Bellomi put a hand to his aching forehead. “My head hurts.”

“No doubt.” Morgan spared him a quick grin before straightening. “Alright, let’s go shopping first.”

As they stepped onto the main thoroughfare, Morgan gave him a brief outline of the village’s history and trade, which Bellomi paid close attention to even as he stared about with wide eyes. Milby Village could sit inside the main garden of Lockbright Palace with ease. Being situated at the mouth of Milby River (hence the name of the place), it was largely a fishing village and always had been. But also because of the river, it enjoyed trade with other places. Milby River, after all, opened out into the sea at the far end, and from there it led into Lavelle Harbor. A river boat could hardly venture into the open sea safely, but if a river boatman hugged the shoreline of Windamere, he could go from harbor to river and back again safely enough. The boatmen of Milby had done just that for generations and had made quite a nice profit from doing so.

Because of this, the main square of town had actual brick buildings instead of the typical wood, and the streets were not packed dirt but tightly fit cobblestone. The buildings were practically built on top of each other, outer walls a hand’s breadth from the other, giving the village a densely compacted feel. Bellomi suspected that the townsmen were too lazy to clear more space so that the town could expand a little. Sanat Forest, after all, lay on both sides of the river and of the town—clearing that many trees would be a lot of work. He couldn’t get Morgan to admit to that, though.

As he reached the outer gate that led into the city, he glanced around, still not able to understand the bright colors everywhere. For some reason, Milby residents preferred their buildings to have white-washed exteriors with elaborate wooden lattice-work on top. The lattices weren’t just elaborate but painted in every possible color. Some houses had bright blue, others green, still others a garish yellow. With all of the trading going on, it only made sense that they had the dyes and paints for such decorations readily available, but…couldn’t someone with common sense talk them into toning it down a little? It looked like a five year old with finger paints had been turned loose!

They went left almost as soon as they entered the village and went into Market, as Morgan called it. Stalls lined the street on either side, all of them crammed together, with people behind that called out wares and prices in loud voices. People of every possible age, profession and gender were jammed into the narrow confines of the street, pushing past each other in an effort to get to different stalls. The noise level alone made Bellomi flinch. But the smell—such a concoction of different foods, metals, leathers, and sweat—made him slightly gag as well. He swallowed hard, several times, trying to keep his stomach from revolting.

Morgan didn’t seem to notice his reaction, just struck off confidently into the crowd, making his way through by sheer body size. Bellomi tried to stick close in the man’s shadow, allowing him to act as a trailblazer, but his efforts didn’t always work as people moved back in Morgan’s wake.

Reaching back, the taller man tapped him on the shoulder once before gesturing to the side. “Clothing stalls are over here, usually.”

“Alright.” He dabbed at the sweat at his temples, struggling to follow as the man cut through the crowd and to the side of the street. Strange, how hot it felt in here. And he found it harder and harder to breathe, too. Two steps further and he lost sight of Morgan completely. In this eight year old body, everyone stood at least head and shoulders taller than he did, and others seemed to tower over him like giants. He couldn’t begin to find Morgan in the crowd and calling out to him proved completely useless. His voice simply didn’t have the volume necessary to drown out the merchants.