The Monsters of Stephen Enchanter
Page 36
Youngster bowed and stepped away.
The king looked at him for a long time without a word. At last, he spoke, “Your loyalty is admirable, even if your zeal is misplaced. Go now, but consider our offer—replace your brother. We could use someone of your talents. Go!”
Bowing, silent, fairy eyes watching them, Stephen and Youngster retreated from the room and then from the king’s house. On the way out a messenger met them and presented each with a small purse—payment for services rendered, as promised by the Jolly Executioner. Each accepted his share with thanks and departed quickly.
As they walked through the streets, back in the direction of the Wright home, Youngster spoke. “He was not as I remembered,” he said.
“He offered you your job, though,” replied Stephen. “Will you take it?”
Youngster hesitated. “I don’t know. Maybe. For now, at least, until I find other work. I shall have to ask my parents. You can come back with me, if you like—the offer’s still open.”
Stephen shook his head. “I am a traveling enchanter. I will do what I have always done,” he said, “although not perhaps as I have always done it.”
Epilogue
Fiat justitia, ruat cœlum
Several months later, far to the eastern edge of the Kingdom of Locklost in the shadow of the Waterfall mountains, a scarred and bearded stranger entered into the town of Epoch. Behind him scuttled several dozen creatures that appeared to be made out of dirt. The stranger rode a beautiful horse and wore the robes of an enchanter.
“That’s because I am an enchanter,” said the stranger, in response to the mayor’s question. “I’m a traveling enchanter. I have ridden a long way today, and winter is approaching. Have you any work for me?”
“Your story is a sad one,” said the mayor, “but I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to dismount and come with me. You should know that it’s illegal for enchanters to ride horses.”
Stephen was a not criminal. He worked hard at not being a criminal—or, at least, not being caught. It wasn’t an easy thing, when one was born an enchanter in the Kingdom of Locklost, where no decent citizen would help any magic-user. But he had learned a lot over the past few months, and so instead of allowing himself to be hauled off and cuffed, he leaned over the side of his horse and gazed deep into the mayor’s eyes.
“You’ve got it backwards,” he said, pushing magic and bedazzlement into his voice. “It’s not illegal at all.”
“Terribly sorry about that,” said the mayor; “my mistake. And now that you mention it, we could use a decent enchanter around here. We’ve been having a bit of trouble with bears lately. You wouldn’t be able to help us, would you?”
“I can help,” said Stephen, and smiled brilliantly.
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About the Author
Deborah Jeanne Natelson is a freelance editor. She has a Master of Theology from the University of St Andrews (Scotland). At the moment, Deborah lives in Colorado.