The Child Prince (The Artifactor) (8 page)

Perhaps if he could fight his way through to the stall itself, he could find Morgan there. Determined, he tried moving forward once more, but without Morgan in front of him, he couldn’t make any progress. The force of the bodies around him sent him stumbling back and spinning.

Too close. Tooclosetooclosetooclose. The world spun around him in a dizzying sea of colors and faces. Bellomi fumbled, nearly tripping over himself as he lost all sense of direction. How did he get out of here? How did he even get into this crowd? Desperate and panicked, he struck out blindly and used his hands to force a path through. Or at least, he tried to. But a child’s body didn’t have enough strength to push aside two adults, and his attempt failed abruptly as he body checked into a towering man.

“Hey, whatcha think you’re doing, kid?” a deep voice boomed out.

Bellomi flinched from him, one arm coming up instinctively to hide his face, but he didn’t stop. He had to get out of here. He had to get out
now
. He couldn’t breathe. He kept drawing in large quantities of air, mouth wide open, but even then he gasped for breath. He half-ran forward again, only to ram into something else just as solid as the other man, the wool fabric of his pants scratching Bel’s face slightly on impact. Wheeling, he turned again, barely keeping his feet as he spun.

“Let me through!” a female voice called out, exasperated. “You idiots, don’t you see that he’s shaking?”

In the next second, two arms wrapped around his waist and lifted him up in the air, a wave of silky hair against his cheek. “Hang on to me,” that same clear, female voice said in his ear. “I’ll get you out of here.”

Desperate, he clung to her, both hands clenching in the collar of her dress. He felt people brushing up against him on either side, sometimes almost painfully so, but he kept his eyes closed and kept praying.

As fast as the crowd had closed in around him, he escaped it again into free air. The woman who held him didn’t immediately put him down, but walked several more paces and climbed up onto a wooden porch of some sort, as it made a hollow echo as she stepped across. Only then did she kneel down and set him gently back on his feet.

Through sheer willpower, he unclenched his hands and took a half step back, body still trembling in aftershock. In something of a daze, he looked up at his rescuer.

A woman near his real age looked down at him in blatant worry. She wore a grey dress with no frills, blond hair pinned up in a soft bun, framing a heart shaped face. She was quite pretty, really.

“Breathe,” she said soothingly, rubbing a hand in a small circle on his back. “Just breathe. You’re fine.”

That warm hand on the center of his back felt ridiculously comforting. His chest still vibrated under the force of his fears, but as he listened to her voice, and focused on her hand, he felt the panic fade.

“Alright now?” she asked him in a soft tone.

Not by half, but he could feel the trembling easing as time passed, and he no longer felt like he was suffocating. He took in a deep, shaking breath and managed a nod at her. “My thanks.”

“What happened?” she asked, still worried. “And where are your parents?”

He in no way wanted to even attempt to answer that second question so he focused on the first. “I couldn’t breathe. There were too many people and they were almost crushing me.”

She grimaced. “Yes, market days are rather like that. But why are you alone?”

“I’m not,” he assured her. “I, um, lost my companion in the crowd.”

“Companion?” she repeated with an odd look on her face.

He abruptly remembered Morgan’s advice from earlier, to speak with more simplicity, and not like the twenty-one year old he actually was. Mentally scrambling, he hastily added, “He’s my master’s friend. He came in with me to the village.”

“Ohhh,” she said in understanding. “You’re an apprentice to someone?”

Sevana had said she would spread the word that he was an apprentice, which Bellomi thought a rather odd cover story. But, in for a penny, in for a pound. He tried a smile and said, “Artifactor Warran.”

For some reason, this startled her more than anything else he had said. “Sevana? Sevana took on an apprentice?!”

Umm. Not quite the reaction he’d been going for. He opened his mouth to say,
forgive the late introduction,
but bit it back at the last second. Did that sound un-childlike? Trying again, he said hesitantly, “I’m Bellomi. Nice to meet you?”

After several startled blinks, she relaxed into a smile that somehow (impossibly) made her even prettier. “I’m Hana. It’s very nice to meet you, Bellomi.”

He let out a covert breath. Oh good, that had worked. Now, what else had Morgan advised when talking to people…oh, right. “I’m glad a pretty lady came to my rescue.”

She chuckled and put a hand on his head, tousling his hair. “You flatterer. It’s hard to believe a charming little boy is an apprentice to
Sevana,
of all people. But Bellomi, I wouldn’t come to market at this time of the day, alright? No matter what your master says. If you’re that bad in crowds, it’s best you come very early, when no one’s here yet.”

Good advice and he’d be wise to take it. “I shall,” he promised.

Nodding in approval, she stood and offered a hand. “You said you came with your master’s friend, so I assume you mean Morgan?”

Oh, she knew him too? “That’s right.”

“Then let’s go find him. He’s probably worried about you.”

She still held a hand out to him, expectantly. The last time he’d held someone’s hand, it had been his mother’s, which was a good sixteen years ago now. A little gingerly, he put his hand into hers. She wrapped her fingers around his in a firm grip, which for some strange reason felt protective. He fell into step with her as she left the porch they’d been standing on, which he now saw led into a general store.

Hana headed back toward the crowd. When he saw that, he instinctively drew back, dragging his feet, breath catching, although he didn’t let go of her hand.

As if sensing his unease, she said calmly, “Don’t worry, we’re not going back into that madhouse. We’ll skirt along the edges and see if we can’t spot Morgan.”

The man stood a good head above most people, so hopefully that wouldn’t be too onerous a task. Slightly reassured, Bellomi kept walking with her.

“How did you and Morgan get separated?” she asked as they walked toward the far side of the street, away from the market stalls.

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. “I was trying to follow him into the crowd, but when I turned around he was gone.”

“In other words,” Hana translated, giving him quite the look, “
you
wandered off. Bellomi, I realize that Morgan isn’t your parent, but when you come into town, you should stick close to the adult that came with you. It’s dangerous otherwise.”

He opened his mouth to object…only to freeze as it occurred to him how he looked in her eyes. In everyone’s eyes, for that matter. No matter his true age, he looked eight years old. If he didn’t act according to his age, then he invited trouble on his head that he could have avoided easily. As much as it rankled to be crammed into the status of a child, he had little choice until Sevana broke the curse on him. With a sigh, he capitulated, “I’ll be more careful.”

“Wise of you.”

“Bellomi!” Morgan’s voice called over the din from the market.

Turning, he looked in every direction, but he couldn’t see the other man through this thick crowd of people. Trying to be helpful, he raised a hand as far above his head as he could reach and waved it while calling, “I’m here!”

“I doubt he can see you,” Hana mentioned as she raised her own hand and waved. “Over here, Morgan!”

It took a few moments, but Morgan eventually won free of the throng and made his way over to them. He looked outright relieved to see Bellomi. “Phew! There you are.”

“Morgan, you really need to be more careful,” Hana scolded as the other man stopped in front of them. “What would Sevana say if you lost her apprentice the first time he came to the village? Not to mention this is a terrible time of the day to drag a small boy into market when he’s already bad with crowds!”

“Bad with crowds?” Morgan repeated, turning to study Bellomi with narrowed eyes.

The prince couldn’t quite meet his eyes, looking everywhere else to avoid them, as the embarrassment of the situation started to set in.

“I found him having a panic attack not five minutes ago,” Hana explained, still peeved. “Not that I blame the poor child, considering he was almost crushed in there. Really, Morgan, what were you thinking?”

“I didn’t know he was bad with crowds,” Morgan hastily defended himself. “But I doubt even he knew that, right, Bel?”

Bellomi shrugged, not looking at either one of them. This truly was becoming more and more embarrassing, especially as they discussed him right in front of him like this. And Hana had let go of his hand, too, which just made the situation more miserable. He’d rather enjoyed holding hands with her.

“Although I should have expected it, I suppose,” Morgan continued without waiting for a response. “All things considered.”

Hana gave him a confused look and demanded, “What things?”

“Well, Bel’s been isolated most of his life from people,” Morgan explained vaguely. “He’s never been in a crowd like this, I don’t think. Sorry, Bel. We should have taken precautions.”

Bellomi waved this away. “I’m at fault just as much as you are. I didn’t think of it either. But now that we know, we’ll need to work on this. I can’t afford to let this handicap me.”

“You’re quite right,” Morgan agreed. “Well, in the meantime, thank you, Hana. Your help’s appreciated.”

She gave them both an odd look, as if they had said something strange, but all she said was, “Not at all. Bellomi, feel free to swing by the library at any point, alright? I doubt that Sevana has anything in her mountain that is appropriate for a boy your age to read. I’ll help you when you come.”

Oh? Hana was a librarian? He perked up with real interest. “I shall. My thanks, Miss Hana. And sorry for—” can’t say imposition, too high in diction, “the trouble.”

“Not at all.” She ruffled his hair again, smile revealing dimples, then with a last nod to Morgan, went on her way.

Morgan waited for her to pass out of earshot before leaning down and murmuring, “We’ve definitely got to work on your conversational skills. You sounded like a teenager, not a child.”

Bellomi blew out a breath in aggravation. “And here I was trying to not use any elevated language.”

“Which helped, but not enough.” Morgan shot the blond a look as she melted back into the crowd. “I could see that Hana found it odd.”

Sweet mercy, why was this so difficult? “Just how long will it take before I can speak naturally with people?”

“Depends on how much you practice,” Morgan answered with a shrug. “The more you do so, the quicker you learn.”

Bellomi looked at the crowd of people with renewed determination. “Then let’s get back to it, shall we?”

Sevana knew for a fact that the nearby village of Milby had only one clothing store. They didn’t carry much of a selection, either, just the bare basics. Even the most choosey of customers couldn’t spend more than an hour inside the store. So she didn’t expect them to take long.

With Kip and Bel safely out of her hair, she used the time to have Big make a few changes to her workroom. With it half-destroyed like this, she had the freedom to make it larger and rearrange the layout a little. She’d set up a temporary table inside so that she could work on Bel’s curse, but now she could properly restore the workroom. She puttered about, adding in worktables, re-arranging shelves, and the like, completely content with her own company.

She didn’t realize how much time had passed until the clock inside chimed out the hour. Hmm? Had they really been gone for four hours? She stared at the clock face, feeling perplexed. Milby only had three main streets and a handful of shops. Even if Bel dragged his feet, enjoying his first outing in a decade, it wouldn’t take four hours to see the whole village. What on earth were those two doing?

The sound of the main door opening echoed down the tunnel, followed by two male voices conversing. Oh, finally back? She stepped out to meet them. “Kip, you didn’t buy out the whole village did you?” she asked even before she rounded the bend and came into view.

Bel shouldered a large bag stuffed to the gills, and Kip had a similar bag over his. They greeted her with a smile. “No, we left them a few socks,” Kip assured her with a grin. “Actually, what held us up was Prince Charming here flirting with Hana.”

Bel shot him a glare. But more interesting, he also blushed a little. Sevana observed this with evil amusement. Hooo so he had a crush on the librarian’s daughter? He certainly wouldn’t be the first. Hana was Sevana’s polar opposite—petite, pretty and with a naturally sweet disposition to her. “Wouldn’t it be a little challenging for an eight year old to flirt with an eighteen year old?”

“He managed,” Kip assured her, an evil tint to his smile.

The little prince cleared his throat meaningfully and refused to be baited. “What actually held us up is that I don’t understand how currency works. Not really. I think we need to focus more on that, Sevana. Kip had to explain every transaction to me.”