The Sorceress in Training: A Retelling of The Sorcerer’s Apprentice

by Tapscott, Shari L.

  “What’s the curse?” I ask.

  “By day, Evie becomes a swan. By night, she turns back into a woman. If she tries to leave the castle ground’s protective wall, she’ll die. If she removes the necklace, she’ll die. If I fall in love with another woman before I can break the curse…” His eyes meet mine, and I go cold. “She’ll die.”

  Rune steps forward, his eyes flashing. “And all this time has passed, and you haven’t figured out a way to save her?”

  “You don’t think I’ve tried?” Marcus snarls.

  “Apparently you haven’t tried hard enough!”

  “Why don’t you guess the catch, Your Royal Highness?” Marcus mocks, using a title that startles me. Rune is a prince? I have no time to dwell on it because Marcus continues, “What is a faerie’s favorite curse? The ridiculous, archaic poetic verse of—”

  “Kiss of true love,” I say immediately, my voice quiet in the vast night. I might not know faeries, but I know poetry and love and history.

  Pain crosses Marcus’s face, but he shields it, choosing instead to show anger. “I can’t break the curse because Evie doesn’t love me.” He throws a hand at Rune. “She loves you.”

  Rune stays silent, processing Marcus’s words.

  “The last time I crossed the rift, I begged Galetta to lift the curse—told her I’d learned my lesson, asked her to free Evie.” Marcus’s face hardens. “She refused.”

  That’s why he returned so quickly that last time. His mission was a failure.

  The sorcerer eyes Rune. “You’re the only one who can save her.”

  29

  “I’ll go with you,” Rune says to Marcus. “But you’ll have to lift your ward for me to cross.”

  The sorcerer nods.

  Brynn steps forward, standing tall, looking very much like she wants to be taken seriously. “I’m going as well.”

  “No,” Marcus says, making me want to argue just for the sake of defying him—to see whose council Brynn will take.

  As if reading my mind, the sorcerer looks my way. He and Rune may have formed a temporary truce, but I don’t like or trust the man. I saw the way he looked at Brynn; I know what he was thinking. He cares for her. Possibly the only reason he hasn’t acted on it is due to sheer guilt. It would be his fault if the elven woman died, after all.

  Brynn notices the tension between us and frowns at us both. However, she doesn’t bother arguing with Marcus. In fact, she relents much too quickly. I’m reminded of the day her carriage broke down, and I realize I’m going to have to keep an eye on her.

  “I’ll walk you home, Brynn,” Marcus says, turning his attention from me to her. “And then I’ll meet Rune at the gateway.”

  Doesn’t that sound far too cozy?

  “All right.” She nods, lowering her eyes, submissive as can be.

  And proving my point the sorcerer doesn’t know her as well as he thinks, he gives her a smile, pleased she’s being agreeable.

  “No need,” I say. “I’ll walk her.”

  Marcus begins to argue, but Rune interrupts, “Let them go.” The elf pauses, studying the sorcerer and apparently not liking what he sees any more than I. “Time is of the essence.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Brynn assures Marcus, and to my horror, she leans in and wraps her arms around him—like a friendly assurance but with far too much physical contact for my liking. When she steps back, she turns to me. “Shall we?”

  The sorcerer blinks, clearly startled by the brief show of affection, but then he flashes me a subtle, but very smug, look.

  Gritting my teeth, I nod Brynn toward the path. The owl swoops from its perch and follows us on silent wings.

  “I know that look,” I tell her when we’re out of earshot.

  “What look?”

  “The look that says you’re going to follow them anyway.”

  She pushes a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “Are you going with me?”

  “I’m certainly not going to let you go alone.”

  “Good.” Grinning, Brynn tugs me toward the manor. “I just planted a tether on Marcus. We’ll wait until he and Rune cross, and then we’ll follow.”

  Slowly, I relax. So that’s what she was doing when she clutched him so close.

  We step inside the manor, and Brynn removes her shawl. I look around, wondering if there’s any way I can talk her out of walking through that rift. Though I don’t want to agree with Marcus, I don’t want her following them into the unknown either.

  “I need to change into something warmer,” she says, leaving me in the entry. “I’ll be right ba—”

  I catch her around her waist and tug her close, pulling her against my chest. “Wait,” I murmur.

  Slowly, she turns in my arms. I expect her to look up with breathless expectation. Instead, she looks almost hurt.

  “What?” I ask, startled.

  She presses a finger to my chest. “I know what you’re doing, and it won’t work.”

  “What am I doing?”

  “You’re hoping to distract me so I won’t follow Rune and Marcus.”

  Chuckling, I tug her back and lean in to nuzzle behind her ear. “Maybe.”

  “Gavin, stop.”

  Her exhausted tone takes me by surprise. I do as she says, loosening my grip on her. “What’s the matter?”

  “Tell me you love me,” she says softly, pulling away. “Tell me we have a future.”

  “I—” What does she expect me to say? “You know I love you.”

  Unfortunately, the words come out like an apology because I can’t say what she desperately wants to hear.

  She nods, looking almost ready to cry. “We’ve been flitting around each other for weeks—no years, neither of us making promises, but I can’t do it anymore. No matter what I do, what I become, you will never agree that we can be together. And if we can’t be together, I don’t want to keep pretending this can end differently.”

  “Where is this coming from?”

  Brynn steps forward, her stormy eyes pleading with me. “I want you to love me like Rune loves Eva. He’s searched for years—he’s crossed realms to be with her. And yet you’re paralyzed by a few flimsy social boundaries—”

  “It’s not the same, and you know it.”

  “I don’t want to keep you a secret anymore. Don’t you understand? All I want, all I’ve ever wanted, is to be yours. I want the entire world to know that I’m yours.”

  “Brynn…” I say quietly, my chest aching. This is my fault—I knew this would happen. I gave in, and now she’s hurting.

  She shakes her head, stopping me. “I’m going to change. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

  I cross my arms and nod.

  How can I mend this? Every day, I’ve looked for a way for us to be together, but there is no solution. I stare at a shelf, idly taking in Marcus’s strange collections.

  The clock on the wall chimes, making me realize that Brynn has been upstairs for a very long time. I climb the steps, calling her name, but there’s no response.

  “Brynn?” I say again, opening doors, checking rooms. Finally, I come to the end of a hall, and a door stands wide open. The room is tiny, but Brynn’s two books of poetry lie on a side table, so I know it’s hers. But my attention isn’t on the books—it’s on the window. Drapes flutter in the breeze, and the glass stands wide open to the night.

  She’s gone.

  30

  I know I shouldn’t have run—I nearly fell on my fool head as I crawled out the window when my foot caught on the hem of my cloak—but I couldn’t bear to look at Gavin after he stared at me with that lost look on his face.

  The moon is hidden behind thick clouds, making the night dark. I try to retrace the path to the gateway, but we discovered it several weeks ago, and Porter had been leading the way. I don’t think I’m going in the right direction.

  I realize I have no weapon—not even a flimsy dagger, and Marcus hasn’t taught me defensive magic yet. I look around, wishing Por
ter had followed me. He must still be in the manor.

  How long will it take Gavin to realize I’ve gone? How long will he wait before he climbs the stairs and finds me missing?

  Summer nights in the mountains are cold, but at least it’s not as bitter as spring. In the dim light, I follow what looks like it might be the game trail Gavin and I traveled before. It’s only when my path comes to an abrupt and inconvenient end that I realize I must have taken a wrong turn. I go back, trying to retrace my steps, but again, my trail disappears into a patch of thick, impenetrable brush.

  To be honest, I’m a little spooked. I tell myself over and over that Gavin’s warnings were because of the elven people who live nearby and not werewolves or trolls or other things that hunt in the night. And I don’t have a reason to fear elves—I’m on a mission to save their king’s sister, am I not?

  This is ridiculous. Why am I even here? Marcus doesn’t need me; he has Rune. What help am I going to be? I’m nothing but a novice sorceress who can’t even turn a mouse into a ferret.

  I turn again, trying to find the path I was just walking, but it’s so dark. It too seems to have vanished.

  If only the moon would peek from the clouds, lend some of its light, illuminate the mountains so I could at least see what direction I’m facing. Right now, I can’t tell north from south.

  Why didn’t I think to bring my book of primary spells with me? Then at least I could have charmed a little ball of light—of course, it’s too dark to read the spell, so that wouldn’t have done me much good anyway. I’m just pondering my options, right now intent on just retracing my steps to the manor so I can start over, when I hear a low growl.

  I freeze. For one moment, my heart ceases to beat, and then it crashes against my chest, working double time. The growl travels the night again, this time closer…and behind me.

  Slowly, I turn to face my attacker.

  I can barely see the wolf in the night, but I can tell from his shadowed body he’s enormous. Only his eyes catch the bare light, reflecting their hungry intent.

  These woods are dangerous at night.

  The beast stalks forward, finally close enough I can make out details that were better left to the imagination. He’s crouched low, and his hair stands on end. He bares his teeth, growling low once more.

  Staying as still as possible, I press my hand back, searching blindly for something I can use to defend myself. I could crouch and feel for a few rocks to throw. If I yell and scream as I threw them, I might be able to scare him away, but I don’t think it’s wise to lower myself to hunt for stones when the wolf is ready to attack.

  Suddenly, there is a shout in the night. As if synced, the wolf and I both tense. The wolf’s ears move toward the noise.

  “Brynn!” Gavin calls, but he’s too far.

  As if coming to the same conclusion, the wolf jerks his attention back to me and takes another step forward.

  I run through my arsenal of spells—the ones I have memorized and can use with ease. I could make the wolf sparkle. I could heat the air around him if he’s chilled. I might even be able to lift him from the ground for a few moments, but only just far enough his paws dangle a bit.

  Or, of course, I could turn him purple.

  That thought spurs another—there is a different spell I memorized just today.

  “You should go,” I warn softly. “Because you’ve given me no choice but to try something I’m really, really terrible at, and I don’t think you’ll like the outcome.”

  The wolf, of course, pays me no attention. He stalks forward, deepening his crouch, looking like he’s going to lunge at any second.

  I’m just beginning to murmur the spell, picturing my desired results in my mind, when the beast attacks. The last of the words are barely out of my mouth when I scream and fall to the ground.

  My head hits a stone, sending pain all the way down my spine. I close my eyes, preparing for the worst, but once I catch my breath, I realize all I hear is a pathetic, tiny cry.

  Slowly, I open my eyes. My back is pressed against the rocky ground. My right leg is caught in a bush, and my cloak is tangled in the thick brush at my side.

  “Brynn!” Gavin yells again, this time much closer.

  Something sits on top of my stomach—something small and furry.

  Gavin breaks through the brush, a torch in one hand and a short sword in the other. Breathing hard, he comes to an abrupt stop when he sees me. “What in the…”

  Groaning, I sit up, clutching the wolf cub close so he won’t tumble to the ground. The once-snarling, ready-to-devour-me wolf makes whimpering noises, probably just as surprised to find himself a young pup as I am to find my spell actually worked.

  “What happened?” Gavin demands, sliding his blade into his baldric and offering me his hand.

  “He attacked me,” I explain, and I begin to tremble. That was a little too close for comfort.

  Gavin blinks at me. “He attacked you? This little cub?”

  “Well, he was much larger before.”

  My guard stares at me, baffled.

  “I turned him into this,” I explain, my residual fear slowly wearing into a strange euphoria. The wolf was huge…and I changed him.

  “You can do that?” Gavin asks, dumbfounded.

  “Not usually.”

  I set the cub down. The real trick is going to be changing him back without him eating me.

  Then I let out a shaky laugh. “Not ever, actually.”

  Slowly, Gavin nods, accepting my answer without pressing for more. He looks around. “You know, if you’re going to run off, it’s probably a good idea to know which way you’re headed first.”

  I look at him from the corner of my eye. “I got turned around.”

  Gavin grunts in agreement and looks back at the cub, scowling. The little wolf is currently on the ground, gnawing on a stick.

  Crossing my arms, I turn to face him. “Aren’t you going to scold me for running? Remind me the woods are dangerous?”

  He looks up, meeting my gaze. “No.”

  “No?” I narrow my eyes.

  Gavin shakes his head. I can tell he’s thinking something, but he obviously doesn’t want to discuss it here. The longer we stand around, the better the chance is that this little cub’s pack is going to come looking for him. I might have turned one wolf, but I highly doubt I can tackle more than that tonight.

  “Come on,” I say, scooping the pup into my arms. His fur is soft and warm, and he’s kind of cute at this size.

  “Where are you going?” Gavin asks, falling into step beside me. The light of his torch helps, if only a little. I’m still not sure where we’re at.

  “Back to the manor.”

  Gavin stops, tugging me back, and then points to the right. “It’s that way.”

  I look at him and then turn the direction he’s pointing. “Right.”

  Laughing under his breath, he leads the way. “What are you going to do with the wolf cub now? You can’t just leave him out here. He’s young enough, he’ll die on his own.”

  Relaxing in my arms, the little wolf nuzzles my hand…and then begins nibbling my fingers. I tap his nose, telling him no, and march after Gavin. “I have no idea. For now, I suppose I’ll ask Mrs. Stone to watch him.”

  Just as we come to the manor, Gavin reaches for me. “Brynn, wait.”

  I set the wolf down, figuring he can nose around the garden, and turn to Gavin, wary of his tone.

  “We need to talk,” he says, crossing his arms.

  I wait for the usual speech—we can’t be together, we’re not from the same stations, and all that usual rubbish. But as he steps closer, I get the feeling something is different.

  He takes my hand, clasping it tightly in his. “When I heard your blood-curdling scream, a thousand fears struck me at once, and for one brief moment, I thought I might have lost you. What would I do if something happened to you? If I had to spend the remainder of my life without you in it?”

  I s
tand here, momentarily frozen, waiting for him to continue.

  “And I realized when I found you lying on the ground, looking like you’d had the wind knocked out of you by that tiny cub but were mostly whole, that you’re right. It’s not enough for me to stand as your guard. It’s not even enough to be your friend.”

  He tugs me closer, his eyes locked on mine in the night. “I want to be those things and infinitely more. I want my ring on your finger, Brynn. I don’t know how we’re going to make it work, but I swear to you, I will find a way.”

  Tears build in my eyes, but I blink, hoping to finish them before they escape.

  Gavin leans down, resting his forehead against mine. “If you still want me.”

  “I do,” I whisper.

  “For now then, let’s focus on your apprenticeship. Once you’ve claimed your full mark, we’ll find our path, whatever it may be.”

  “So…is this a proposal then?”

  He laughs, tilting his head back to the sky. “Not very romantic, is it?”

  “I don’t need romance,” I whisper. “I just want you. At some point, you placed me on a pedestal I don’t want to be on. But please believe me when I tell you I’m far happier here, on the ground, standing with you.”

  “People will scoff at a sorceress who marries her guard,” he warns.

  “Gavin,” I laugh, setting my hands on his face, making him look at me. “People will always find something to scoff about, even if they have no good reason. We can’t live our lives trying to please everyone around us. Not only is it an exhausting way to live, but it’s also lonely.”

  I lean up and kiss him, wrapping my arms around his neck. After a moment, I pull back and give him a wry smile. “While this has been an excellent distraction, you do know I’m still determined to go into the faerie realm, correct?”

  “Why do you want to do this so badly?”