The Mage's Daughter 2: Book Two: Enlightenment

by LeRoy Clary

  “Three fathers? Are you some kind of freak? I’m beginning to wonder if I should have stayed in the sailor’s rooms on the pier where I’d just be living with drunkards and thieves.” But his actions belied his words. He did not deny his problems or powers, and he had settled back into the chair so bolting would be harder.

  Prin said, “Relax, Brice. We’re going to explain it all, or what we know, and we’re going to try to hide that fuzziness, so others don’t spot you like we did.”

  “You keep saying, we. Is Sara also a sorceress?”

  “Yes, but I hope she’s not mad at me for telling you that without her being here. Listen, we are running from powerful mages, and neither of us is a decent sorceress, yet. We’re almost as weak and uneducated in the powers of magic as you. But we have books that will help us learn, and that’s why we rented this place. Before going back to the ship, I hope to know a dozen spells. And in those books, there may be things a mage can learn.”

  Sara was standing behind them, listening. She said, “And if there is not, we may be able to locate a book or two on how to train a mage.”

  Brice leaped at her voice, but Prin only smiled. She said, “Everything good?”

  “Rather than have Mrs. Lamont put other renters here at the end of a month if the refit of the ship is not complete, I made a deal for two months, and we forfeit what we don’t use. But the price was lower per month.”

  Brice said, “If the two of you are enchantresses, prove it.”

  Prin said, “I already have with the finger-fire. But we have in a few other ways, too. We also did it when we spotted you from among all the others at the shipyards.”

  Sara said, “Brice, we’ll prove it again, but not now. Right now, we must buy a few supplies, but I’ve marked some pages in the journal I’m working on, and some are simple enough spells.”

  “Like what kind of magic?” Brice asked.

  Sara pulled one of the inside chairs close to the terrace. “Okay, there is what I call a dry-spell. When it rains, I don’t get wet. The water sort of flows over my skin and clothing to the ground. There is a love potent that will make someone like another, or with the stronger version, make them love that person. Of course, there are limits to them. Oh, and I have arrows that never miss what I aim at.”

  Prin said, “I’ve used a forget-spell where a person breathes in the fumes of a purple grape, and they sit down and forget everything for the rest of the day. And the no-see-me spell, like the one Evelyn has at her tree. I sprinkled the powder on me, and it didn’t make me disappear, it made people look everywhere but at me, even when they were close enough to touch.”

  “You didn’t tell me about that,” Sara said.

  “I was in the pool at the creek at Evelyn’s, and two hunters came into the clearing. I couldn’t run or hide, so I sat still. They went right through the clearing without seeing me, but they were so close I heard everything they said. It had to be one of Evelyn’s spells, or maybe one left over from someone using the tree before her.”

  Sara looked excited. “I hadn’t heard of a spell like that, and certainly didn’t know you used one, but I think I found a similar spell in the journal but didn’t understand when it talked about seeing, and not-seeing.”

  “What’s first?” Prin asked.

  “Shopping,” Sara said. “I have a list of things, besides food.”

  Brice asked, “Do the men where you come from also shave their heads?”

  Sara glanced at Prin for confirmation, then said, “Brice, we only met you today. While we hope to get to know you and that all of us become great friends, the truth is that we’ve already placed our lives in a stranger’s hands by speaking to you. It was a foolish choice. We should have been more cautious. But, we need to keep a few things to ourselves—at least for a time.”

  Prin spread the contents of part of her bag on a chair and found another pointed hat, a dark blue one. She said, “I’ve been looking at you closely, and I think that shimmer around your head is from your hair. When you turn sideways, I see it on the back of you, but not on your nose or cheeks.”

  Sara started circling him. “You’re right.”

  Prin held up the hat that matched theirs, all but the color. Prin wore green while Sara preferred dull red. “We should shave off his hair before we go out.”

  Brice shook his head and held his hands out as if to stop them.

  Sara said, “Calm down. It’ll grow back, but if it’s the hair that is giving you away, it’s going to bring danger to you, sooner or later. I’m amazed it hasn’t happened yet. Probably just the luck of being on a ship with only a few crewmen. But in a city this size, you’re sure to be spotted.”

  Prin said, “Besides, shaving and wearing a hat like ours will make it seem we’re family, or from the same land. Is there anybody searching for you? If so, they will think twice.”

  “Three times,” Sara said, pointing to each of them.

  “Maybe later,” Brice said.

  Sara approached him like a lion that had been slapped by the claws of a kitten. She stalked him, face stern, ready to teach him a lesson. Pulling up one small step from his chest, she said, “You need to listen to us, respect what we say, and understand my next few words. Shaving your head is not an option if you wish to survive ten more days, because no gambling house in my homeland would take odds on you doing better than that. You can shave your head or die.”

  Brice stood silently, not agreeing with her, nor backing away.

  She placed one finger in the center of his chest and applied pressure. “But that’s your problem. Mine is for me to remain alive and I am telling you now,” she pushed harder with her finger, “that your stubbornness will not bring about my death, or the death of Prin.”

  Her final shove pushed him back a step, but she continued advancing.

  “I’ll do it,” he muttered sourly, “I’ll cut my hair.”

  “Not good enough. Now, I want you to use your brain and think. Since meeting you, we may have already saved your life, but you don’t know that for sure, yet. What you do know is that we have offered to share our food, shelter, money, wisdom, education, and Prin has secured you a position on our ship. In return, you have . . .”

  “Done nothing,” Prin filled in. “But argue, question, and resist.”

  Sara said, “I realize this is all new to you, but your life is in danger. We can help, but we’re not obligated to do anything. So, this is how we’re going to proceed. Prin get your bag, and you and I are going shopping.”

  “And me?” Brice asked.

  “As I said, you will not place us in danger, and we can’t trust you to do what we say without a fight. That could cost us all, at any time. When we tell you what to do, you have to do it and ask questions later, but I don’t think you really believe or understand what I’m saying. So, I’m putting you on the stairs like a cat to guard the house. If any mice come along, run them off. Or you can run off, and we’ll never see each other again.”

  Brice bristled, his face twisting in hurt and fear.

  Prin threw the strap of the backpack over her shoulder. Inside were her most precious items, all that she’d removed from her father’s apartment, but especially the paintings, and above all, the one that changed expressions. She wondered what face they wore now.

  Sara fell into step with her, and as they turned at the first cross street, her eyes went to Brice. Prin didn’t look at him, she watched Sara’s eyes and knew what she saw. Prin said, “You were hard on him.”

  “He’s had a soft life. Not enough fear to temper him.”

  Prin increased the length of her strides to match those of Sara. A stray breeze threatened to blow her hat off, so she grabbed the brim and pulled it firmly down. “Do you have any idea of where we’re going?”

  “The market.”

  “Is it this way?”

  Sara paused and shrugged. “That boy back there is scaring me so much I can’t think straight. We should have let him go on about his way.”
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  Prin pulled to a stop, forcing Sara to do the same. “The same as we would do if we came upon a baby playing with a sharp knife?”

  “At least that baby and knife are not likely to be the death of either of us.” Sara strode away, Prin hurrying to catch up.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  A woman carrying a head of cabbage and a fistful of carrots strode in their direction. Prin said to her, “We’re new here. Is the market in that direction?”

  “It is. Be careful, the farmers are asking top prices for their vegetables this time of the year.”

  They thanked her and promised to be wary. After a few more blocks, Sara said, “I’m not over-reacting to the danger Brice presents, you know.”

  “But you’re going to teach him a lesson he won’t soon forget? Maybe the bos’n can come up here and give him one too? Or a thug on the street can punch him in his eye?”

  “Brice is not our friend.”

  “At least not yet, and if you continue to treat him like that, he never will be.”

  Sara turned away and headed for the market with long, determined strides. When they reached it, they found nothing like the wild and bustling bazaar at Indore. The market at Gallium had an almost serene aspect to it, having none of the music, dancing, colorful flags, and loud hawkers extolling their goods and prices. Instead, the stalls were neatly lined up in rows according to markers painted on the pave stones, each with a table or two displaying the fruit or wares, a few with canvas tent roofs.

  The rows were wide, the sellers polite, and there were men dressed in blue that patrolled, usually in pairs. A small disagreement between a buyer and seller broke out, and four of the men in blue descended to settle the quarrel quietly and efficiently.

  Prin said, “I like the Bazaar better.”

  They strolled past the stalls, buying nothing. Sara looked for specific ingredients needed for the magic spells and found a few at a vegetable stand. She also purchased a sprig of basil, some mustard seed, salt, and mint leaves.

  The displays of other items drew Prin. She examined a tray of knives, finding none to her satisfaction, despite the fact she already owned two and didn’t need another. She fingered lace, and almost purchased a ball of twine so tough she couldn’t break it with her fingers. She did buy three apples, planning one for each of them.

  Farmers sold their crops at most tables. Sara suggested they buy food at the last, so they didn’t have to carry it around with them. As they admired carved figurines at one table, along with a nice selection of spoons, Prin glanced up in time to see a man not-looking at them.

  He was perhaps ten steps away, Sara was twenty-years-old, and even without her long black hair, her classic features and curvy figure always drew attention. Sara was the sort of beauty that if she smudged a little dirt on her cheek, instead of detracting, it would make most men think her more attractive.

  But the young man looked off to their side as if something down there was so interesting he couldn’t spare the time to glance at Sara. Prin averted her gaze, but kept him in her peripheral vision, as he seemed to be doing to them. Sure enough, his eyes flicked in their direction, then away.

  Prin took Sara by her elbow harder than necessary, and steered her several tables away, where they looked at turnips as if they were interesting. Prin said, “A man in pale green is behind us. I think he is watching, so don’t look.”

  Sara said, “What do you think?”

  Prin shook her head at the turnip seller as if the price was too high, and she escorted Sara past several more tables. At a place where customers could slip between displays to another row, Prin pulled her along. Two rows away, they paused at a display of bowls carved from various woods. Prin situated herself where she could watch behind without being obvious.

  The young man in pale green emerged from a small crowd, his eyes searching, then he headed in their direction. A pair of men in darker blue, with stars sewn to their shirts, walked past. Prin caught the attention of one and hissed, “Directly ahead of you is a young man wearing light green. We’ve never seen him, but he’s stalking my sister, I think.”

  Their eyes found him immediately. They headed in his direction, but the man who had been following them spun and darted off.

  “Wait,” one of the constables shouted, as the other blew a whistle. The chase was on.

  Several more constables raced to the sound of the whistle. Prin said, “Let’s get away from here.”

  They walked quickly, but not so fast they would attract attention. Before leaving the market, at a stall near the edge, Sara paid for a plucked chicken. At the next stall, she quickly bought fresh peas, carrots, and noodles. A moment later, they were in the maze of side streets again.

  With only two mistakes, they found their way back to the house. Brice sat on the steps. Sara brushed past him without speaking.

  Prin said, “You might as well come on in. At least for a little while.”

  He followed her, his head hung low. At the top, he paused and said, “I’m sorry.”

  Sara spun around to him, face red and contorted. “Sorry? That’s all you have to say? Do you have any idea of what just happened?”

  “No,” Prin said gently, “how could he?”

  “Stop protecting him.” Sara sat in a chair and fumed, her eyes squinted, brows furrowed, and body tense. Prin motioned to the terrace and Brice went out there and sat in silence. Prin said nothing, and later, when she looked up, Sara was chopping the vegetables and putting them in a pot. Her chopping was furious, the pieces becoming bits instead of chunks.

  After Sara cut up the chicken and added water, she put the pot on a small fire to simmer and pulled the same chair back to the edge of the terrace. Without preamble, she said, “I’m sorry. Neither of you deserved that. I was scared.”

  “What happened?” Brice asked, then looked as if he wished he hadn’t said anything.

  Prin answered, “There are men looking for me. Prominent men, and even a mage or two. We escaped them twice, but when we were in the market in a city we’ve never visited, a man followed us for no reason, except that he was looking at me. Not Sara. Me.”

  “You say you’ve never been in Gallium?”

  “They are searching all seaports, I think.”

  “Are you that important?” he asked.

  “Some people think so. Now I don’t know what to do.”

  Sara said, “It’s not your fault, Prin. I just don’t know how we can even buy food if they are searching here for you. You may have to remain inside for the entire stay. That man found us before we’d passed a hundred stalls, so I should think there are many more searching because he couldn’t have been that lucky. What are we going to do?”

  Brice began to smile. “Well, maybe here is where I help pay you back. Nobody knows me. Suppose I do the shopping and run the errands. The two of you stay inside where they can’t find you.”

  Sara said, “Hey, that might work.”

  Brice said, “Did the man recognize you, or just suspect it might be you?”

  “Suspect,” Prin said. “He was trying to get closer for a better look, I think. Maybe they have drawings?”

  “Is there any reason you need to go out before we sail? Is there anything I can’t do to help?” Brice’s voice rose in frustration that his offer hadn’t been accepted.

  Sara visibly calmed. She settled back in the chair, her mind at work as she turned to him. “Can you read?”

  “A little.”

  “We could give him lists of what we need for shopping, including food and supplies,” Sara said, “As soon as we find out if shaving his head gets rid of that irritating fuzz around him.”

  He stood and said, “Let’s do it. I’ve been thinking and realize that the two of you are helping me. If you say my hair may get me into trouble, let’s get rid of it.”

  Prin used a scoop of water from the bucket and wet his hair. Then she used her fingers as a comb and brushed it back off his forehead while looking at Sara.

 
; She said, “It is the hair. Come look.”

  Prin went to stand beside Sara. His forehead was normal, so she combed it down over his eyes and stepped back. The fuzziness now shimmered down to his eyes. “How did nobody ever see that? It’s so obvious.”

  “Did you live in a small village when young?” Sara asked.

  Prin combed his hair back again and placed a hat on him. The hat took on a very slight haziness. She asked Sara, “Does the hat hide it?”

  “No, not really, but it does cover it up some. When you look at the hair below the hat, it’s still there.”

  Sara had calmed and talked in her usual manner, all traces of anger passed. Prin removed the hat and said, “You’re going to look as funny as us when you’re bald.”

  “Just do it before I change my mind.”

  Prin cut hanks of hair and soaped what remained. Soon, his hair was gone, his scalp white, and Sara said, “Nope, it’s as bad as ever.”

  Prin saw the twinkle in her eye. “Well, maybe we need to paint his head green.”

  “My head?”

  “What else, silly?”

  Brice stood, confused, his hands running through nonexistent hair until they burst into laughter. He asked, “Can I see me?”

  They couldn’t find anything to provide a reflection. But they assured him, after passing a few looks between them, how good he looked bald, when in truth, he appeared almost deformed. Sara’s and Prin’s scalps had tanned and looked acceptable, while his dark facial skin contrasted dramatically with the white scalp.

  “He should wear a hat to keep the sun off, or he’ll burn the first day,” Sara said, checking on the soup again and stirring it. “This will be bland because we didn’t buy enough spices. Mustard seed and mint will provide little help.”

  Prin tasted the proffered spoon. “Yuck. Put them on the list.” She sat in a chair and said, “When I was with the Old Mage, and we camped near a river, he put a spell on everything around--one that blurred us to anyone passing by on the road. They could hear us, and he said bears could smell us, but we’d sort of blur into the trees when anyone looked in our direction.”