The Sorceress's Apprentice

by Joshua Jackson

  “Whatever,” I shrugged and went over to the basin.

  “Here is your water,” Helga appeared beside me, handing me the cup.

  I stared at the cup for a long moment before downing it, letting the cold liquid soothe my dry throat. It was strange for someone I was contemplating murdering to be so kind to me. Most of my victims recoiled from me in terror or cursed or spat at me. Of course, most of them knew what was about to happen too. I wondered if she would be so kind if she knew what was on my mind. Doubtful.

  “What are you doing?” she asked eagerly, sitting down across from me over the bowl.

  Fantastic, now I would have to deal with an incessant amount of stupid questions while I worked to save her life. “I am making an invisibility cloak. Alina, I need a small bowl and a stir stick,” I instructed.

  Helga frowned, studying the cloak and the small bowl. “How?”

  Sighing, I took the bowl and dumped some vinegar in it before adding the rest of the pheasant oil. “I am using the invisibility oil of the vanishing pheasant to make a dye,” I explained.

  “You know how the vanishing pheasant disappears?” Helga asked enthusiastically.

  “It has a gland that secretes an oil on its feathers, which renders it invisible,” I answered, trying to ignore the irritating little kid.

  “Yes, but how does the oil work? Does it absorb light?”

  “No,” I said slowly, suddenly looking at Helga, surprised she’d have the intelligence to draw such a conclusion. “That would make something black.”

  “Right, of course,” Helga nodded vigorously. “That is just like a dark room. So how does the do it?”

  “It bends light around an object,” I elucidated. I placed the empty vial on the floor and put the Arev Eola vial a few centimeters opposite it. “We see by light bouncing off objects back to us,” I explained, tracing a line between the vials. “But the oil bends light like this,” I traced a line around the empty vial. “Thus, any light reflected back to us comes from what is behind the object.”

  “Oh, so it makes a hole,” Helga seemed to understand. Zimri, much to my satisfaction, looked thoroughly lost.

  “Basically, yes,” I confirmed, stirring the dye solution.

  “And if you dye this oil into the cloak, it will bend the light around the cloak and whoever wears it!”

  “That is the theory,” I nodded, impressed. I poured the dye into the hot water basin and began stirring it all together.

  “What’s that smell?” Zimri gagged.

  I sniffed and was hit with the burning vinegar smell. “That would be the vinegar. It is a necessary part of the dyeing process,” I explained. “He does not have a very tough nose,” I told Helga, earning a broad grin.

  Seeing her smile made me feel strange. Helga wasn’t anything like I expected her to be. She was smart, brave, and actually enjoyable to be around. Well, she wasn’t intolerable, at least. I still knew that taking her life force was the smart thing to do but I suddenly found myself less willing to do so.

  “Sorceress, could you explain something to me?” Lothar asked cut into my thoughts. “Why do you keep saying our Helga is so powerful?”

  “She is not powerful in and of herself,” I replied. “She has an extremely powerful life force. That is why Aidan wants her.”

  “But she is so young,” Alina protested. “Surely I or Sir Zimri or Lothar would have stronger life forces.”

  “Life force is as much about quality as it is quantity,” I replied. “While an older, healthy person’s might have more vitality, they have lost a certain level of…” I struggled to find the right word. “Purity, I guess. Innocence. The less of this purity one has, the more tainted their life force. It is like two jars of flour. One is four liters but is full of mold and weevils. The other is clean flour but only two liters. Which do you imagine produces more bread?”

  “The two-liter jar,” Helga promptly supplied.

  I nodded. “It may be smaller in quantity but it the quality is much greater thus it can produce more bread. The same is true of magical power, hence children carry better power. Children of her age tend to have the most potent blend of vitality and purity. Helga,” I looked over at her, “has a particularly strong purity. She is a kind soul, ya?”

  “Ya.” Alina and Lothar shared an uncomfortable look. “She has always been a good child, always seeing the best in others, giving even when she has nothing left to give.”

  “I thought so,” I sighed. “Her combination of purity and vitality is the most powerful I have ever seen.”

  “Does that mean I can become a sorceress, like you?” Helga a

  “No, well, not exactly,” I replied. “You could become a sorceress but not because of your life force. Sorcery works by drawing on life force but most spells require a lot of life force and if the sorcerer used his or her own, they would quickly wear out and die. Using my own life force, I could light that candle but little more. Even that would tire me.”

  “So how do sorcerers do such powerful spells?” Helga frowned.

  “We take life force from others,” I answered. “When you saw me kill those soldiers earlier, that is what I was doing. It is a special spell that allows me to drain and store another’s life force, for a time at least.”

  Helga stared hard at the bowl, processing. “To use magic, you have to kill people?” she finally asked, looking up.

  “Ya.”

  “Have…have you killed people?” she asked, big blue eyes pleading with me to say no.

  “Ya, I have,” I admitted.

  “A lot?”

  “Ya.”

  “How many?”

  “I do not know,” I said. “I have never bothered to keep track. Hundreds, I suspect, not counting soldiers.”

  Helga lapsed back into intense thought, studiously staring into the basin. Inwardly, I sighed. Undoubtedly, she would think me a monster and I couldn’t blame her. I was a monster. For the first time in my life, I thought back over all the people I killed for their life force. Most I couldn’t remember, their faces a generic blur. I had given killing no more thought than tossing a log onto the fire. But now, I suddenly wondered how many families I had destroyed and how much pain I had caused.

  “Do you want to kill me?” Helga suddenly spoke, lifting her gaze to mine.

  A tense silence filled the room as Helga’s intense, innocent eyes met mine. I felt the magic whispering, pleading, commanding me to just do it. Zimri couldn’t stop me. With one quick word, I could have all the power I’d ever need.

  “It would be the smart thing to do,” I told her. “You have an unusually powerful life force. On the one hand, letting you live is risking letting Aidan or the Mistress use your power. On the other, taking your life force would give me the power I need to defeat the Mistress. But,” I sighed, finally admitting the truth to myself, “I do not want to kill you and so I will not. You are safe with me.”

  Helga studied me for a moment and then smiled. “I know,” she declared. “That is why I trust you.”

  An uneasy silence settled over the room at her declaration. I was pretty sure her parents did not share the sentiment but it was oddly gratifying to have this child’s trust.

  “Uh, how’s the cloak coming?” Zimri thankfully broke the silence.

  I looked down at an empty bowl. “It worked!” Helga announced gleefully.

  “Maybe,” I cautioned, reaching and pulling the invisible cloth out. “Lothar, stoke the brazier. This needs to be dried and we will see if the dye took.”

  Lothar added a little more fuel to the central brazier while I hung the dripping cloak on a line. “Careful,” I warned, noting splotches of skin disappearing where the dye hit. “You do not want to get the dye on your skin.”

  “Will it poison us?” Alina gave the cloak a wide berth.

  “No,” I answered, scratching my arm, “but it will make whatever it touches invisible and is rather itchy.”

  “It smells poisonous,” Zimri grumbled, wrink
ling his nose, eliciting a laugh from Helga.

  “It is not,” I rolled my eyes.

  “Now what?” Lothar questioned.

  “Now we wait until the cloak dries,” I said, feeling suddenly very tired.

  Both Alina and Lothar looked alarmed. “They will not attack until Aidan arrives, probably tomorrow morning,” I said, grabbing my new clothes and stripping down. “At first light, we will get Helga out of the city.”

  “And you will not tell us where she is going?” Lothar asked.

  “No,” I firmly replied, stripping down. “Once, if the Mistress is defeated, we will make sure you are reunited.” Pity that would never happen, although I would ensure Helga was beyond anyone’s reach, my own included.

  “If not?” Alina asked.

  “Better that she stay hidden from everyone,” I answered, putting on the new clothes. Despite the peasant quality, it felt good to be wearing something other than rags. I still wanted a bath. Relaxing, I slumped down against the wall, leaning my head back and closing my eyes.

  “You look tired,” Zimri observed, sliding down next to me. Alina started making some food. “When was the last time you got proper rest?”

  I had to think about that for a moment. “Not since before I took your princess,” I admitted. “Not that we will get ‘proper rest’ tonight either.”

  “It’ll be nice not sleeping outside for once,” he pointed out, closing his eyes.

  “Ya,” I agreed, taking a look at him. He didn’t look much better than I imagined I did, although I guessed his size pretty well. His new clothes, a beige, knee-length short sleeve tunic and black trousers, looked good on him. But his shaggy black hair was a mess and there were dark circles under his dark eyes, which were starting to become bloodshot. The skin on his face was becoming drawn and tight from two weeks of poor nutrition. It was a wonder he had the strength to keep fighting.

  “Here is some soup,” Helga appeared, handing us a pair of steaming bowls. “I am sorry it is not much but it is all we have.”

  “Thank you,” Zimri said gratefully, taking the dish from her. “It is more food than we’ve had in a while.”

  “It probably does not taste very good,” Helga admitted. “We do not have any spices and ran out of salt.”

  “That’s alright,” Zimri gave her a warm but tired smile. “I’m so hungry, I’d probably enjoy eating the floor.”

  Helga laughed and sat down cross-legged in front of us. “Are you two together?” she asked bluntly.

  Zimri spluttered out his soup. “Like…lovers? By the Trinity, no!” he said with a mixture of amusement and disgust. “In fact, we are going to rescue you my future wife.”

  “Your wife? But you are too young to be married!” Helga protested.

  “I’m 16,” Zimri replied. “That’s plenty old enough.”

  “How did your fiancé end up in the Eisenberge?”

  Zimri shot me an accusatory glare. “I, uh, sort of kidnapped her for the Mistress,” I answered. “She is the princess of Alkilion and whoever rescues her from the Mistress gets to marry her and become the next king.”

  Helga shifted her gaze back to Zimri. “So you want to just marry her so you can be king?”

  “Shama’im, no,” the Alkite laughed. “The last thing I want is to be king. Well, maybe not the last thing but it’s pretty far down the list.”

  Helga’s visage brightened to sun-like levels. “You are in love with the princess!” she declared. “That is so romantic!”

  Zimri flushed a rusty red. “Uh, I wouldn’t say in love,” he countered. “Ari’s amazing: beautiful, kind, and strong and she’s always been a good friend to me. I guess I like her but I’m not in love with her.”

  “You are in love with her!” Helga countered, refusing to believe anything else. “Why else would you risk your life if you do not want to be king?”

  Zimri looked genuinely puzzled by the question. “It’s, uh, complicated, I guess,” he finally answered.

  “It is quite simple,” Helga decided. “You are in love with a princess and that is why you are here. Mom will find this so exciting!” She hopped up and danced over to her mother.

  “You do not want to be king?” I was still fixated on that part of the discussion. I’d always assumed that’s why he’d come on this suicide mission.

  “My parents want me to become king,” he clarified. “An opportunity to marry into the royal house, to put your heir as the kingdom’s heir, that never happens for someone like me. It’s a chance we had to take.”

  “So your parents sent you on this suicide quest? Not very loving of them,” I remarked.

  “They love me very much, not that that’s something you’d understand,” Zimri bristled. “It’s because they love me that they pushed me to take this opportunity. Besides, this is about more than just me. It’s about my parents, my sisters, my brothers-in-law, our servants, the whole House of Lim. We’re new and barely above servants ourselves, so if I succeed, I’ll be helping everyone in my house. We have to take that risk.”

  “So it was your choice to come, then?” I asked, still a bit confused.

  Zimri looked down. “Like I said, it’s complicated,” he mumbled.

  We sat in a tired silence for a few minutes. “She’s a good kid, isn’t she?” Zimri finally spoke.

  “That is her problem,” I nodded.

  “Oh come on, you like her, admit it,” he teased.

  “She is talkative, nosy, and annoying,” I grumbled, not wanting to admit the truth even to myself.

  “She’s a lot like you,” he observed.

  “What?”

  “Red hair, blue eyes, curious about how everything works,” Zimri summed up. “That’s a lot like you. Of course, she has a much better attitude. Helga’s how I imagine you would’ve been, had the Sorceress not taken you.”

  I grunted an annoyed response, hoping he’d drop the subject. Being Zimri, he of course did not.

  “You ever think about them, your family I mean? Ever wonder what happened to them or what life would’ve been like if you’d grown up with them, instead of spending your life with the Sorceress training you?”

  “No,” I curtly answered.

  “Really?”

  “What would be the point?” I shrugged. “I am what I am and what has happened has happened. There is no use in fantasizing of what could have been. As for my family, they have likely long forgotten about me, if they ever cared.”

  “Of course they cared!” Zimri protested. “Nothing is stronger than a parent’s love!”

  I snorted. “I have watched parents volunteer their children to me just to save themselves. Families do not care about each other. My parents probably just handed me over to the Mistress because she asked. They probably did not even know what she would do with me; all they cared about was protecting themselves.”

  “You don’t know that,” Zimri virulently objected.

  “It is the most likely explanation, one that I am satisfied with and one I have no interest in discussion further,” I snapped. “Get some rest; tomorrow will be an exhausting day.”

  “Aren’t they all?” Zimri allowed a wry grin and laid down next to the wall. “Oh, and thanks for the new clothes. I’ll stay a lot warmer now.” In a few moments, he was asleep.

  I had a harder time relaxing. Instead, I kept playing the last conversation with Zimri over and over in my mind. The “what if” that I had ignored for years suddenly began dancing in my mind as I watched Helga and her parents share what little bit of food was left for them after they had given us most of it. They were starving, poor, and living day to day, knowing that Lothar could be drafted into the army or Alina and Helga could have their life forces drained at any moment. I had lived in comfortable castles my entire life, possessing the power of life and death over all but a handful of people in the entire Eisenberge.

  And yet, there was a joy that these three shared that I had never known. Despite the fear and poverty they lived with, they seeme
d to take comfort and strength in each other’s presence. I had always lived in fear and hatred with the Mistress and fellow apprentices. We were never friends, instead always scheming ways to get ahead of each other, in extreme cases outright murdering each other. Others were always the enemy.

  But not so here. It made me wonder if I had never been taken and stayed with my family if I would’ve been happier. It made me wonder if I would’ve been happy at all.

  Chapter 22-Athala

  A loud pounding at the door jerked me awake. In the dim light of the dying brazier, I could feel Zimri rousing beside me.

  “Get the cloak!” I hissed.

  As Zimri shuffled off, I stood and felt my way across the back wall to the corner farthest from the door. “Helga, come here!” I called in a loud whisper as the pounding increased. A moment later I felt the small form press against me. Then Zimri huddled in, tossing the cloak over us.

  “Is it big enough?” he asked.

  “It was the biggest I could find, so it had better be,” I replied tersely. “Now hush. If this worked, it will make us invisible but we can still be heard.”

  There was a thunderous crash and light filtered underneath the bottom of the cloak but everything else remained pitch black.

  “Uh, Athala, we still can’t see,” Zimri whispered.

  “Use your other senses and shut up!” I shot back as heavy boots sounded in the apartment.

  “What do you want with us now?” demanded Lothar in a tired and angry voice. “Is it not enough you took our daughter?”

  “Your daughter has been missing and we believe that she has returned here with two other fugitives,” barked a harsh, authoritative voice.

  “As you can see, there is no one here but my wife and I,” Lothar answered. “Leave us in peace.”

  “And those packs, are they yours? Are you planning a trip?” the officer inquired. I felt my gut sink.

  “I, uh, ya, we are going to visit my wife’s family in Gletcher,” Lothar attempted to answer.

  “And this dagger? Where did you get an Alkite dagger?”

  “Oh scheise,” I swore quietly.

  “You know weapons are forbidden inside the city except for shepherds,” the officer noted. “And you cannot explain away the Alkite shield.”