The Sorceress's Apprentice

by Joshua Jackson

  “What came naturally?” Zimri exclaimed. “Most of us would kill to have what you do just come naturally! You picked up on stuff in minutes what took me a decade to master and I’m one of the five best swordsmen of my generation of knights. You’ve got incredible talent. We could really use you, if you want to help us.”

  Titan’s eyes widened in surprise. “You want me? To come with you?”

  “I can’t speak for Athala, but yeah, I absolutely do,” Zimri nodded.

  “It would not be a good idea,” Titan shook his head. “I tend to mess things up. My dad and Adler do not let me in the forge because I nearly blew it up last time I tried to make something. Mom will not let me help in her secret garden because I nearly killed the plants. Neither am I any good with the sheep or cows. I am not even allowed in the mines. They only thing they let me do is hunt and that is only because I can shoot better than anyone. I am no good at sneaking around.”

  “That is why your brother is so protective, especially when it comes to dealing with the Mistress’s people,” I said. “You are a prime candidate for the Mistress’s army.”

  “What?” Zimri looked confused but Titan just nodded soberly.

  “Have you noticed that there are no beggars or homeless around?” I asked.

  “Now that you mention it, yeah, that’s odd,” Zimri admitted.

  “Not really,” I shook my head. “Anyone who has no home or no work is drafted into the army. So if you wish to stay free, then you must make yourself useful. Be a blacksmith, like Rolf and Adler, or work in the mines or farm or run a ship or an inn or something.”

  “And if you have nothing else, the Mistress forces you into her army,” Zimri nodded his understanding. “Aside from the horror of the mind break, it actually isn’t a terrible idea. I imagine crime is low and it does give people something productive to do.”

  “Agreed, but Titan and his family would prefer not having his mind destroyed,” I said. I sized Titan up, tapping my foot as I thought. He was tall even by Eisenbergian standards and clearly strong. He wasn’t powerfully built like his father and brother; their muscles the result of years swinging a blacksmith’s hammer. Rather he was more lean and toned than muscular, like Zimri was when I first met him. I’d seen Zimri fight enough to know the Alkite was making no idle boast about his skills. If Titan was half as good as Zimri said, with the Alkite’s hand to guide him, he would be a formidable force.

  “Zimri is right,” I concluded. “You should come with us. You, of all people, have a vested interest in seeing the Mistress dethroned.”

  But my family—” Titan protested.

  “Will be safer with you gone and no longer a worry,” I cut him off. “They cannot hide you forever.”

  “I do not know,” Titan looked down at the wooden sword. “I do not want to get in your way.”

  “You won’t, trust me,” Zimri gave him an encouraging smile. “Even if you were half as good as you seem, I could really use a second sword to back me up. This one’s useless without her magic.”

  “That is not often,” I growled, shooting Zimri a sharp look. “He does have a point; another competent blade would be welcomed, as well as someone to shut him up.”

  “Hey!” Zimri protested, but he wore a lopsided grin. “He’ll help make you laugh.”

  “By lighting your ass on fire? I am all for that happening again!” I retorted.

  “Whatever it takes,” Zimri shrugged and I couldn’t help but crack a smile at the image of him desperately trying to pat the fire out. “But seriously Titan,” I turned back to the Eisenbergian, “we really could use you.”

  “I do not know,” he said slowly, looking back towards his house. “I will have to think about it, and talk with my parents.”

  Zimri heaved a tired sigh after Titan left. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, although the copious bandages might as well have counted. Still, it showed just how gaunt he’d become over the last month.

  “You need to eat more,” I remarked.

  “That concern?” Zimri said as he pulled his shirt on, for the first time leaving off the undershirt.

  “I just do not want you to be too weak to fight,” I said.

  “I knew you cared,” he flashed me that obnoxiously endearing grin of his. “I’m going to fry when I get back to Alkilion,” he added, dabbing his face.

  “You will adapt,” I rolled my eyes. “Is Titan really as good as you say?”

  “I’m not sure,” Zimri admitted. “He might be even better.”

  “He is that good?” I was impressed.

  “I’ve seen people like him that are uniquely gifted in one thing,” he nodded. “Back home, we have a shepherd who just has a way with sheep. He can’t add to save his life but he can practically talk to sheep. There’s a musician at the castle that can master any instrument within a few minutes of picking it up. She’s total dragon spawn but we all tolerate her because her music is incredible.”

  “Titan is like that with weapons?” I questioned.

  Zimri nodded again. “It would explain why he’s such a good shot with a bow and able to master swordsmanship in just one sparring session. Truth be told, I have no idea just how good he’ll get.”

  “We could use him,” I acknowledged.

  “Yeah,” Zimri nodded and we lapsed into a quiet, comfortable silence, enjoying a rare peaceful moment in the forest. “I’m guessing you didn’t come here to see me without my shirt,” he said.

  “Sort of, actually,” I replied. “I came to check on your bandages, which after sweating and getting knocked into the dirt, need to be changed.”

  Zimri groaned but I wasn’t having it. “I told you to take it easy,” I chided.

  We made our way down to the stream we’d bathed in the previous night. Over his protests, I had Zimri strip and remove the bandages and then plunge in the icy water.

  “Ah! Ah! Ah! Ow!” he complained.

  “If you had followed my orders, you would not have to do this,” I unmercifully pointed out from the bank. “If you recall, I frequently washed my bandages when I was healing from the burns.”

  Zimri glowered. “It’s really cold.”

  “I can see that,” I retorted, earning another quite satisfying glare.

  “Can I come out now?” he asked pitifully.

  “No,” I lied, enjoying watching him squirm. “Wash your bandages,” I commanded, sliding down next to him. “Give me your arm.”

  He held out an arm and I began cleaning off the dead, burned skin.

  “How are you doing?” Zimri asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Meeting your family, that’s got to be a shock,” Zimri clarified. “OW! Careful.”

  “You believe them?” I snorted. “I did not think you were that naïve.”

  “I’m not sure, truth be told,” Zimri admitted. “I suppose some of your paranoia is rubbing off on me but I find it an incredible coincidence that we happen to meet your cousin in the middle of the forest.”

  “Ya, an unbelievable one,” I added, slathering some Arev Eola on the burn.

  “Ah, that stings,” Zimri sucked in sharply. “I can’t think of a reason they have to lie, unless they trying to get our guard down to turn us over to Aidan,” Zimri went on.

  “That is my thought,” I said, wrapping dry linen strips around his arm. “Other arm. When I left this morning, Liesl was going somewhere and was very evasive on where she was going. If we play along, we might be able to catch them.”

  “What if they’re telling the truth?” Zimri asked.

  “They cannot be,” I retorted.

  “I’m not-OW-sure,” Zimri said. “Liesl does look a lot like you. Same hair, same eyes, same face, although hers is a lot friendlier.”

  “Thanks,” I growled. “But to you, I am sure all Eisenbergians look alike.”

  “Not exactly,” Zimri shook his head. “Or at least, I’ve been around enough to pick out a few differences. If I saw you two together, I would’ve thought she
was your mother.”

  “She looks like me. So? My parents were not killed by the Mistress, not like that, anyway. They gave me to the Mistress to save themselves,” I shot back.

  “That’s the story she told you, anyway,” Zimri calmly pointed out.

  “Are you saying she lied?”

  “Right, since she’s never lied to you before,” Zimri countered. “Like she didn’t lie to you about inheriting the Eisenberge or about what people are like or about the value of friendship.”

  It pained me to admit, but he had a point. The Mistress had lied to me about a lot and it seemed like the farther I got from her clutches, the more lies came out. But this…it just couldn’t be true, could it?

  “It is too much of a coincidence,” I finally said, wrapping the next arm with a little more force than necessary.

  “Is it?” Zimri asked.

  “Your face, now,” I commanded, forcing him to look at me and started cleaning those burns. “If you keep this up, you will have enough scars to rival me.”

  “Doubtful but I’m trying,” Zimri attempted a grin, which turned into a grimace. “But you’re ignoring the issue.”

  “Maybe,” I admitted.

  “Think about it: you have to come from somewhere, right? Why not here? Both Rolf and Liesl recognized you before we introduced ourselves. Maybe they were planning to trap us, but there was no possible way they could’ve known we’d show up at their doorstop. Besides, why would they choose that particular lie if they were planning to trap us? On its surface, it’s hard to believe, I admit, but that makes it even more likely they are telling the truth. Wouldn’t it be better to simply offer us shelter to lull us into a false sense of security?”

  “I suppose,” I said slowly. He was making far too much sense.

  “You’re good at reading people,” Zimri went on, “do you sense any deception from them?”

  “No,” I confessed. “But that does not mean anything.”

  “Perhaps not,” Zimri admitted. “But then there is how Liesl looks so much like you. She called you ‘Isolde’ at first, not Athala. She thought you were her sister because of how much you look like her.”

  “That does not prove anything,” I angrily retorted.

  “I’m not saying it does,” Zimri gently answered. “But you have to admit, it is a distinct possibility.”

  “Maybe,” I snarled. “So what if it is true? That does not make us family. I do not know them.”

  “That’s because you don’t understand family,” Zimri said quietly.

  “Of course I do not understand family!” I exploded. “How could I understand family? I grew up in a hell where the only way to survive was to kill everyone else! I did not have siblings; I had rivals. I did not have friends; I had tools. I did not have parents; I had a Mistress. So you tell me how I could possibly understand family.”

  Zimri dropped his eyes and I started stalking away.

  “You have me,” he whispered.

  I stopped dead in my tracks. “What?” I asked, turning.

  “I’m your family,” Zimri answered, looking at me with earnest dark eyes. “If you want to know what family is like, look at me. You know I’d do anything for you, you know I’m always here for you.”

  “You have threatened to kill me,” I pointed out. “Twice.”

  “Okay, good point,” Zimri admitted with a subtle grin. “But even that, I did that to protect you from yourself. Do you wish that you’d killed Elske or Helga?”

  “No, I do not,” I confessed.

  “Yeah, I stopped you for my own conscience,” Zimri said. “But I did it for you too. Because I care about you, Athala, more than you understand. We’ve fought together. We’ve nearly died together more times than I can count. That’s bound us like family, more than family.”

  “And they would give me that? Because we are related?” I scoffed.

  “Of course they would,” Zimri said passionately, “because that is what family does.”

  “Then they are idiots, just like you,” I snarled at him and trying to get away. I didn’t want to talk to him now, about this or really anything else.

  “Idiots for what? Caring about you?” Zimri demanded, racing ahead of me, forcing me to look at him. “Why does that make us idiots, Athala? Why does having people who love you scare you so much?”

  “IT DOES NOT SCARE ME!” I screamed at him, knowing it was a lie. “What do you want me to say, Zimri? That I am terrified that my parents whom I have hated all my life for giving me away instead died to protect me? That I am terrified that just when I find that peace and love that you talk so much about, everyone will abandon me and betray me when they realize what a monster I am? Because they will, Zimri, and they will be right to do so. I am a monster. I have murdered thousands, Zimri. I have murdered children. I am a monster that no one could truly—”

  Suddenly I was engulfed in a hug. It was so sudden, so surprising I didn’t know what to do so I just stiffly stood there as Zimri wrapped his arms tightly around me, pulling me in.

  “I do, Athala, I do,” he whispered, holding me tight. “After all we’ve been through together, you are a friend. More than a friend, more than family. You’re…you’re…something, I don’t know what but you mean the world to me and I know exactly what you are. You’re brave and smart and passionate. Does that sound like a monster?”

  “No,” I admitted. “But murdering hundreds of children does.”

  “The past only defines you if you let it,” Zimri replied. “You chose who you are today and tomorrow and the next. Don’t be a monster if you don’t want to.”

  He made it sound so simple, so easy. I desperately wanted to believe him but how could I ever come back from what I’d done, from what I was?

  “How can you say that?” I asked.

  “Because you can do anything you want,” Zimri replied with unshakeable conviction. “I’ve seen you do the impossible so many times this should be nothing for you.”

  “And what if they do not love? What if all they see is the sorceress?” I asked.

  “Then they’re fools who don’t deserve you,” Zimri resolutely answered. “And you will always have me here.”

  He hugged me tighter, pulling me into his chest and I melted into his embrace. I believed him. Aidan and the Mistress would have scoffed at me but I believed him when he said he would always be there. I suddenly knew, more than anything, I wanted to be there for him too. I wanted to be with him. I wanted—

  Suddenly, my worst fear had been realized.

  Chapter 28-Zimri

  “Oh wow.”

  I was in love. Head over heels, until the day I die, love.

  “You like it?” Rolf handed me my new sword.

  Reverently, I took it. “Like it?” I exclaimed. “I love it!”

  It was the most unique sword I’d ever seen. My old scimitar, my dad’s actually, had a distinct curve tapering to a sharp point. This sword was more like a double-edged sword cut in half, with a subtle curve coming to a triangular point with the width of the blade not changing much. Experimentally, I flourished the weapon, feeling the exquisite lightness and balance.

  “It’s incredible,” I remarked.

  “Try it out,” Rolf encouraged.

  He held out a branch out as thick as my arm. Raising the blade over my head with both hands, I brought it whistling down. It cleaved the wood like flesh.

  I stared in awe at the blade in my hands. “But the blade is so light!” I exclaimed. “How is it so strong?”

  “Eisenberge smithing,” Rolf beamed. “You Alkites do not know how to make a proper sword. That groove running down the middle lightens the blade but does not make it any weaker.”

  “Rolf, this…this is incredible,” I said, subdued, “I don’t know how to say thank you.”

  “Get rid of the Mistress and Aidan and we will call it even,” the blacksmith smiled.

  “It looks like you have some competition for Zimri’s affection,” Titan’s voice sou
nded behind us.

  I turned to see Athala and Titan enter the forge. Titan wore an impish grin and Athala was flushing as red as her hair. Was she embarrassed? I didn’t know that was possible.

  “His affection is hardly something I covet,” she brusquely replied after composing herself. “If he wishes to pour it out on a sword, that is his business.”

  “She doesn’t have a sense of humor,” I apologetically said.

  “I do,” Athala defiantly retorted. “None of you are funny.”

  I rolled my eyes and turned back to Rolf. “After giving me such a marvelous weapon, I hate to ask any more of you,” I said slowly.

  “But…” Rolf prompted.

  “We could use your son with us on our raid of the Drachen Festung,” Athala bluntly put forward.

  Rolf blinked. “Liesl! Adler!”

  “What is happening?” Adler asked.

  “They want Titan to come with them to the Drachen Festung,” Rolf explained.

  “Absolutely not!” Adler exploded.

  “We do need him,” I said.

  “You want my son to help you fight a sorcerer?” Liesl wasn’t nearly as demonstrative as Adler but clearly not on board with the idea.

  “No,” Athala shook her head. “In addition to disposing of Aidan, we must rescue an Alkite he is holding prisoner. Zimri and I will deal with Aidan while Titan frees the Alkite.”

  “What does Aidan want with an Alkite?” Rolf asked.

  “He’s planning on turning himself into the Alkite and then ‘rescue’ the princess and become the next king of Alkilion,” I explained. “Obviously, that isn’t good.”

  “But that would mean sending Titan alone against the Mistress’s soldiers,” Adler protested. “That is even worse!”

  “Titan can handle it,” I promised. “Your son has a gift for fighting like nothing I’ve ever seen. He’s far better than any of those guys.”

  “Are you sure about that? My brother is not known for being talented,” Adler declared.

  I saw Titan bristle at that. I bristled at that.

  “How many of the Sorceress’s soldiers have you fought? How long have you trained with sword masters?” I snarled, letting my anger bleed out. “I’ve fought more than I can count and I’ve trained almost my entire life with the best swordsmen in the world, so I’m a damn good judge of someone’s ability and I can tell that after only a week, Titan is as good a swordsman as I’ve ever seen. He may not be a talented blacksmith or gardener or shepherd, but he’s far and away the most gifted swordsman I’ve ever seen. Does that answer your question?”