The Sorceress's Apprentice

by Joshua Jackson

  “More or less,” I answered, deciding not to get into the semantics of Athala’s magical status. “What do you want with us?”

  “To help, of course,” he answered, daring to look up. I hadn’t lowered my blade. I am unarmed and am no threat.”

  He wasn’t and even if he was, the ancient man would’ve been absolutely not threat to me, regardless of how tired and frozen I was. After a long moment, I lowered my blade, suddenly feeling self-conscious about my nudity.

  “My name is Warin, a farmer outside Masala,” he explained, still on his knees. “I have heard of what you have done and wish to help in whatever way I can. My home is not far from here. You can warm yourselves and rest.”

  Athala and I shared a glance. I shrugged and she nodded; it wasn’t like we had a lot of choice.

  “I have blankets,” he added, turning around and producing a pair of threadbare woolen blankets. They wouldn’t do much in the way of warmth but it was a nice gesture.

  “Alright, get up,” I said with a tired smile. “You’ve convinced us. Take us to your home.”

  “Thank my lord,” Warin stood, handing us the blankets. “You will not regret this, I assure you.”

  After gathering our soaking stuff, we followed the old man along the shore to where a cottage sat maybe half a kilometer away, about halfway between us and Masala. A few other cottages dotted the open alpine meadow, probably belonging to other farmers.

  Even in the fading day, I could see Masala better now. Another river drained Long Lake, running north to where another deep valley cut perpendicular into the Eisenberge. On the north side of the Branden Fluss, the mountains weren’t quite as tall or the slopes as steep as the Hidden Valley broadened out around the lake, dipping down as it went north.

  “The Stark Fluss,” Athala voiced my unspoken question. “It flows from here down to the Great Flussen Vale.”

  “Where the Flussen Reich is.” I hadn’t paid that much attention to geography but I knew where the major nations were. “Or at least used to be, before Katrina conquered it what…forty years ago?”

  “Forty-seven, to be exact,” Warin spoke up. “That was the first time the Mistress used her mind-break spell to make her soldiers.”

  “Ah ya,” Athala nodded. “I remember her telling us how she could not have won without that spell. She did not have the magical capacity to fight the entire Reich on her own like she did when unifying the Eisenberge.”

  “You mean conquering,” Warin said darkly.

  Athala shrugged. “Same thing,” she remarked. “She never did tell us how the spell worked or how she learned it. I guess I know now.”

  “Natas?” I guessed.

  “Most likely,” she nodded.

  “It was pure evil, regardless of the source,” Warin commented.

  “Ya but it was efficient,” Athala said, causing me to wince. The Flussen War was clearly a touchy subject for our host. “To have soldiers uninhibited by fear or pain, that would relentlessly press on, that is a formidable force.”

  “It is evil!” snapped Warin. “You of all people should understand that!”

  It was Athala’s turn to bristle, her blue eyes going cold as she glared daggers at the old man. “Ya, I do understand,” she said coldly, unwrapping the blanket from around her, revealing the network of scars Katrina had inflicted. “I understand her evil more than anyone. I have lived it.”

  Warin stared hard back, unmoved by the twisted display. “You are not the only one to have suffered,” he said, voice hard.

  “That is why I am going to end her.”

  Warin nodded and continued on, reaching his hovel less than half an hour later. It was a small structure, just one room more akin to Helga’s apartment than Titan’s home. The old man took our clothes, hanging them around the fire pit before adding fuel to coals.

  “Here,” he said, offering me a set of old clothes. “These I think will fit you until your clothes are dry. They were…they are not needed anymore.”

  Gratefully, I took the clothes and changed into them, feeling warmer. Everything still ached and I sat down on a stool and leaned against the wall. For the moment, we were safe and I felt myself slowly start to relax, although I kept my scimitar close, not that I had the strength to use it if Warin turned out to be a traitor.

  After changing and resting for a bit, it was not long until Warin had supper ready for us. It wasn’t much, just some watery stew but I was hungry enough it tasted like Sennacheriv’s table.

  “So what is your plan?” the old man asked.

  “Get the Eisenpalast and kill Katrina, I suppose,” I answered.

  “That is it?” Warin looked suspicious. “How are you going to get there? Deal with the soldiers? She has at least a thousand stationed on the island and not all of them are broken. What about her magic?”

  “We’re working on the boat part,” I said. “I’m guessing there are probably fishing boats or something nearby we can swipe. To get past the soldiers, we’ve got our invisibility cloaks.”

  “Your what?” Warin looked confused.

  I grabbed one of the invisible cloaks and tossed it to him. Warin was surprised when it landed on him and then astonished when part of him vanished from underneath the cloak.

  “Impossible!” he breathed. “I thought you said you no longer do magic!”

  “I do not,” Athala answered. “They were not made with magic. I used a particular oil secreted by the vanishing pheasant to make an invisibility potion. Then I took that potion and turned it into a dye, which I used to dye these cloaks.”

  Warin’s already wrinkled brow wrinkled even more. “That sounds like magic to me,” he said.

  Athala sighed heavily. “Whatever. It is not magic,” she said. “And they should get us past the soldiers, at least enough of them.”

  “And the Mistress? How will deal with her magic, if you do not have magic yourself?” Warin questioned.

  “Uh, Athala?” I asked, gesturing towards the rather odd pile of gear we’d been lugging around the Immergrün the last few days, and the projects she and Adler had been working on the last couple of weeks while I convalesced.

  “These shields are covered in dragon hide, which will resist against any fire spells,” Athala held up the two kite-shaped shields. “The invisibility cloaks while keep us hidden long enough to reach her. These,” she held up her paper-wrapped grenades, “will blow her up, if we can land them on her. Our shields are strong enough to resist any ice spike attacks.”

  “And that rather unusual sword?”

  “This is my crowning achievement,” Athala beamed as she held up the glass-hilted weapon. “I got the plans from Olympia herself.”

  “This does not seem like a particularly useful sword,” Warin took it, examining it. “I am no warrior, but a glass hilt does not seem like it could withstand a strike.”

  “It can’t,” I said flatly, shaking my head. Athala and I had gone around in circles for a week on the point of this weapon and I still couldn’t say I understood it.

  “It is not meant for hand-to-hand combat,” Athala patiently explained, also tired of this question. “Note the blade has copper threading into the blade and the copper coiling in the hilt. Copper is an excellent conductor of electricity. This weapon is meant to protect against Katrina’s lightning attacks. The lightning will be drawn to the blade and the charge will be drawn into the hilt. Not only that, there is a polarized, alkaline solution in the hilt that will store the electricity so it can be shot back at Katrina.”

  Warin looked at me quizzically. “Am I supposed to understand any of that?”

  “Adamah’s courts if I know,” I shrugged. “She’s been trying to explain that to me for the last week and I still don’t understand 90% of it. It’s supposed to be both a defense and attack against any lightning spells. Or so she says.”

  “I do say,” Athala glared at me. “And as an expert in magic, you should trust my judgment.”

  “I do,” I sighed. “Just don’
t ask me to understand it.”

  “Fine, whatever,” Athala waived off.

  “You think it will be enough to defeat the Mistress’s magic?” Warin asked.

  Athala and I looked at each other and shrugged. “It will have to be,” she said.

  Warin didn’t looked terribly convinced but he nodded. “When are you going to strike?” he asked. “Tomorrow?”

  I balked. But Athala nodded. “Ya, we need to strike as soon as possible. The longer we wait, the more likely it is that Katrina will find us. We cannot afford to keep fighting battles out here.”

  “She probably thinks we’re dead,” I pointed out. “Maybe lying low is the best option.”

  Athala snorted at that. “Katrina will not believe us dead, not by a long shot. She will be scouring the area for us. We need to strike now.”

  I sighed, feeling weight of the days fight and swim.

  “Are you up to it?” Warin questioned.

  I sighed again. “Yeah,” I said. “I’m good to go. I’m tired, sure, but at this point, I’m ready to get this over with.”

  “So you just need a boat,” Warin concluded. “I can get you a boat, if you will take me with you.”

  “Wait…WHAT!?”

  “I can get you into the Eisenpalast,” he said. “In a covert way that you on your own cannot.”

  “That’s suicide!” I exclaimed. “Why would you want to come with us into the heart of the dragon?”

  Warin sat thoughtfully silent for a long minute. “Lord Zimri,” he finally said, “I am 84 years old. All I have ever known is the Mistress’s rule. She doomed me to a life trying to farm in these godforsaken mountains. She took my sons, broke their minds, and made them her mindless drones for her invasion of Flussen Reich. I never saw them again after they were taken away, ripped from my screaming daughters-in-law arms; I never knew what happened to them. I guess they died in battle or where used for her horrific experiments. The Mistress gave me nothing to start my life with and took even that away.” He gestured around him. “I have nothing left: no wife, no children, no wealth, no freedom. So before I die, Lord Zimri, I ask that you let me take from back from her some of what she has taken from me.”

  “Zimri, we could—”

  “I know, I’m with you,” I cut off Athala’s argument. To my surprise, I was okay with this. I shouldn’t have been; the aged were supposed to rest in ease, having earned their repose from a long life. To take an old man into battle was horribly dishonorable. But while it was suicide, how could I deny him his chance to get revenge and set things right? I glanced around the dingy shack, largely devoid of possessions. She had taken everything from him; who was I to keep him from taking something back?

  “This is your home,” I said. “You have every right to fight for it. I look forward to standing by your side.”

  Chapter 42-Zimri

  I tossed and turned for a couple of hours before giving up on sleep. Throwing my cloak on, I slipped out of Warin’s shack and found my way to the boulders on the beach. Picking the comfiest looking rock, I sat down and stared at the brilliant stars. It was freezing cold at night, even in the height of summer but I didn’t mind too much. There was too much on my mind.

  “You could not sleep either?” Athala’s voice spoke behind me.

  “No,” I answered. “Have a seat.”

  She sat down beside me, leaning against me for warmth and we both sat in silence, looking up at the stars. Cold as I was, there was nowhere on earth I would rather be than here, with her. It felt so comfortable, so right for us to be together like this. Without thinking, I put my arm around her and she snuggled into me, which was surprisingly intimate for Athala who was usually so reserved. It was perfectly romantic and I couldn’t have been happier than at this moment.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked, breaking the silence.

  “I was thinking how incredible the stars are here,” I answered, watching the constellations dance across the sky.

  “You do not have stars in Alkilion?”

  “Of course we haves stars,” I snorted. “But not like this. Maybe it’s the altitude or the lack of light pollution, but they never cease to amaze me. They feel so close, like I could almost touch them.”

  “That is unfortunate for Alkilion.”

  “Alkilion has many wonderful things,” I countered, feeling the need to defend my home. “Amazing food, beautiful beaches, and enchanting forests. Plus there are the people. So many different people from all over the world. Anything you could possibly want is right there.”

  “Perhaps it is a good place, then,” she acknowledged quietly.

  “You’ll have to visit some time,” I said.

  “I do not know,” she replied. “The last time I was there, it did not go so well.”

  “Oh, right.”

  We lapsed into another comfortable silence, watching the stars. “Athala,” I finally whispered, “Can we do this?”

  She pulled back a little and looked at me. “It is a little late for cold feet,” she commented.

  “I know, I know,” I said. “It’s just that, until tonight, the whole thing had been just in my head, you know? I mean, I knew we would have to face her and it would probably be little more than suicide but it always seemed far off, like something that wasn’t going to happen for a long time. But it’s tomorrow and now it feels so…” I trailed off, trying to find the right word.

  “Real?” she suggested.

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “Athala, I’m scared,” I admitted.

  “Ya, me too.”

  The confession silenced us again. Then Athala spoke. “It is okay that we are scared. At least it means we are still somewhat sane; we would be utter fools not to be scared.”

  “Of course, we’re still probably utter fools for trying to bring her down,” I commented wryly. “In fact, I believe you told me something to that effect when we first met.”

  “I was wrong,” Athala replied. “Not about our chances, although with Olympia’s aid we do stand a much better chance that we might have. But that does not matter for us, which is why, terrified as we are, we are going to get on that boat tomorrow and sail to the Eisenapalast. We are fighting for Warin and Titan and Lisle and Adler and…” she choked a little, “And Helga. We are fighting for people we have not met yet. We are fighting so they do not suffer what Warin has suffered or die like Helga and Rolf or any of the others that Katrina has murdered. That I have murdered. We are going to face Katrina because there has to be a better life for these people than this and if there is a sliver of a chance that we can give it to them, we are going to do it, no matter how insane because that is just who we are.”

  I just listened to her words, taken aback by the conviction in them, words even a month ago I would never have dreamed of Athala saying.

  “We are their guardians because no one else will be. No one else can be,” she went on more softly. “And so we will risk certain death just on the hope we can give them the life they deserve. I know I would rather die than say I did not try. You are the same, I think.”

  “Yeah,” I answered. “Yeah, I am.” Somehow, she had put into words everything that was pushing me now. It wasn’t about the crown or my family or our honor anymore. It was about saving a people who had suffered for almost a century and giving them a chance at the life all people deserved to have. And Athala was right; no matter how terrified I was or hopeless it looked, I would rather die than not at least try to save them. Maybe, probably we would die. But at least we would have tried.

  “You know,” I said after a minute. “You’re starting to sound like me.”

  Athala snorted. “I suppose after three months, some of you would eventually rub off.”

  “You make it sound like such a bad thing,” I said with a small smile. “But in truth, you have changed, a lot.”

  “Obviously,” she flatly replied. “I do not have magic anymore.”

  “It’s not just that,” I said. “In fact, the magic might be the smal
lest change. When we first met, you were like a statue: cold, hard, and unfeeling. You would murder someone if it suited your purpose without a second thought. You could be given a gift worth a thousand kingdoms or watch your castle burn to the ground and you would react no different. Now, you feel and care. A friend’s death cuts you deep and a hug makes you smile.”

  “So what you are saying is that I am softer now?” she snorted.

  “Yes, but not weaker,” I replied. “If anything, you’re far stronger now than you ever were at your most powerful before. You were hard but brittle, like thin iron. You shut out empathy and feeling because you knew that if you let that in, the horror of what you did and were would destroy you. I think Katrina knew that too, which is why she brutally beat and tortured you so that you couldn’t let those feelings in and you would be her tool.

  “But now,” I went on, “Now you have let the guilt and pain in, you let yourself care and love those around you and it hasn’t crushed you. It has driven you, made you braver, more determined than ever to rid the world of Katrina and defend the people of the Eisenberge. You are softer but not weaker. Instead, you’re just more human and that has made you stronger than ever could’ve been as her pawn.”

  “I do not feel stronger,” Athala said, looking down at the boulder. “I am constantly afraid. Afraid of failing, afraid of hurting someone, afraid of losing you.” She looked up at me, eyes wide and for the first time, innocent. “I cannot stop thinking about all the lives I have ruined, all the people I have murdered. Every time I close my eyes, I see their faces. So many faces, Zimri. Some are pleading for mercy, some are cursing, some are frozen in fear, and others just accept their fate. And what is worse is that I know I can only remember a fraction of those I have killed. Zimri, there is not just blood on my hands; my whole being is soaked in the blood of innocents. How can I possibly atone for that?”

  “You can’t,” I said simply. “I won’t pretend that I understand what it is like to have that kind of crushing guilt. All I can tell you is what I see you doing with it. Most people would have tried to disappear, lose themselves in the bottom of a bottle. Others would have given up on caring and continued being the murderous tyrant you were. Even others, well they would have simply ended it. But not you. Instead, you’ve let yourself feel. You’ve accepted the guilt and taken the responsibility of making the world right again. You know you won’t bring any of your victims back, but you’re determined to keep others from suffering their fate. Olympia wisely chose you as the Eisenberge’s protector. No one understand the horror of magic and tyranny like you and no one will fight against it like you. I’m not saying that what you went through or did is okay, but you haven’t let it destroy you. You’ve let it mold you into a better, kinder person.”