season avatars 01 - seasons beginnings (3 page)

doing here, Kron?”

“We need to talk.” Kron tilted his head at Salth’s son. “Sal-thaath,

why don’t you go play for a while so I can talk to your mother?”

“Will you play with me afterwards?”

“We’ll see.”

Sal-thaath disappeared. Kron waited until he could no longer feel

the boy’s magical residue in the air before saying, “Salth, you have to

do something about your son.”

She had already returned to her scroll. “Why? He’s a fine boy, dou-

ble-strong, double-smart, and many-powerful,” she said, not even

looking up at him.

We’re equals out here, no matter how strong she thinks her magic

is. She has no right to treat me with more contempt than I’d give a first-

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year apprentice. And she’s not going to listen to me if she has a scroll

in her hand.
Kron strode to her and jerked her scroll away. She shrieked

and reached for it, but he held it out of her reach. Only when hostile

magic built between them did he say, “Sal-thaath is too powerful, and

he has no sense of right and wrong. He’s more powerful than I am; he

could destroy a city.”

“So? What are a few more or less Nils? They breed like animals.”

“Is magic all you care about? Don’t you care about Sal-thaath?”

The anger in Salth’s eyes softened. “He’s many-talented. I’ve

learned much about time from watching him grow. And when he grows

up, he and I will study magic together and peer into the heart of it.”

“Maybe, but even you can’t teach him everything. The Magic Insti-

tute won’t take him if he can’t tolerate others. Then how will he master

his magic?”

“Master his magic? He
is
magic.” She leaned forward, her eyes

gleaming with green light. “I always wondered if it would be possible

to breed without a partner. It took several tries and a lock of my favorite

brother’s hair, but I managed to create life in myself.”

Kron wondered if Salth’s brother had had six fingers instead of five.

Maybe Salth hadn’t been as successful as she thought. Instead, he

asked, “Your favorite brother?”

“There were many of us in the harem—too many. Most of them were

cruel, caring only for power, seeking favor with our father. Only Tham

looked out for me when I was Sal-thaath’s age. He was pushed down

some stairs when I was eleven. I still think Aksam did it, that bastard.

No wonder he won the throne. A plague to all who sit on it.” Although

her voice had remained even and calm, she turned her head away for a

moment before continuing, “Anyway, I wasn’t going to mate with any-

one weaker than me, Nil or magician. That includes you.” Glancing

away from him, she crooked her forefinger. The scroll in Kron’s hand

tugged at his grip like a fish on a line. He tried grasping it with both

hands, but the pressed plant leaves seemed to exude grease. The scroll

slipped away and sailed back to its mistress’s hand.

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Salth’s eyelids lowered in satisfaction before she glared at him

again. “You’ve wasted enough of my time. Go, and leave us alone!”

She didn’t gesture, so Kron was unprepared as she transported him

out of the room and dumped him into the river. Cursing, Kron leapt out

before the tools and powders in his belt pouches were ruined. The cold

water made his tunic cling uncomfortably. He’d never been good at

cleaning with magic, so he had to brush off the mud by hand.

High-pitched laughter from overhead startled him. “That was funny.

Do it again,” Sal-thaath said as he floated down to Kron’s eye level.

“No.” The soft grass was cool, but the soil crumbled under Kron’s

feet; he’d lost a sandal. “Go find my other sandal, please.”

“Please? What does that mean?”

Did Salth teach her child anything besides magic? “It’s a nice way

to ask someone to do something for you.”

“Oh, I’ve never heard that before.” Sal-thaath whistled, and Kron’s

sandal plopped next to him.

Kron wiped off both sandals on the grass, then picked the laces out

of the leather soles. In bare feet, he trudged along the river until he

found a few suitable pieces of driftwood. While it would have been eas-

ier to ask Sal-thaath to send him home, Kron preferred to leave using

his own magic.

“What are you doing?” Sal-thaath asked as Kron lashed two

branches together.

“Making a portal back to my workshop.”

“Aren’t you staying?”

“I can’t.” He had to decide what to tell Phebe about her chicken,

then he had to warn the other residents of Vistichia to avoid any strange

six-fingered boys they saw.

“That’s all right. Mother never has much time for me either.” Sal-

thaath’s shoulders drooped as he turned away.

Kron couldn’t help but feel sorry for the child, unnatural or no. He

had no one else for company besides a magic-obsessed mother. Kron

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searched through his sack until he pulled out a flat cloth ball. “Come

here.”

The boy backed up, passing through a stump without bumping into

it. “Why?”

“I have something for you, but you have to grab it with both hands

to key it to you.”

Sal-thaath took the cloth and stared at it. “I feel magic in it. What

does it do?”

“Drop it, and you’ll find out.” Kron grinned.

Sal-thaath dropped the ball on the ground, where it inflated and

bounced up to him.

“It’ll always come back to you now,” Kron said. “Toss it to me.”

Sal-thaath’s throw was so far off Kron couldn’t move to intercept

the ball in time. It rolled into the river, but then it rolled back out, leav-

ing a trail of mud as it returned to Sal-thaath. By the time he picked it

up, the ball was dry and bouncy again.

Sal-thaath beamed. “Thanks, Kron!” He floated off, bouncing his

ball.

With a sigh, remembering his boyhood in Delns, Kron finished tying

the portal together. He willed it to open onto a hidden spot by the docks,

crawled through, and collapsed it from the other side. No sense making

it too easy for Sal-thaath to return to Vistichia.

C H A P T E R T H R E E

An Apprentice?

The next day, instead of selling artifacts in the marketplace, Kron

prepared more of them in his makeshift shelter. Rather than paying for

a room at the inn, he’d twined sticks and boards together, then en-

chanted them to keep him safe, warm, and dry. While he needed to

barter his wares for meals and a better place to sleep, not to mention

passage to Delns, he wasn’t ready to encounter Phebe in the market-

place. What should he tell her about Sal-thaath? She had no magic to

keep him away. Even the city-king’s magician wasn’t powerful enough

to control—or destroy—Sal-thaath. Kron certainly wasn’t.

“Kron! Here you are!” Sal-thaath’s voice made Kron drop his chisel.

A heartbeat later, the boy appeared and squatted next to a pile of drift-

wood. “I’ve been searching all over the city for you! Is this a game?”

“A game? No. I’m making finders.” Maybe if he talked to Sal-thaath

and showed him interesting things, he could keep the boy from playing

tricks on Phebe again—or Bella.

He showed Sal-thaath the finder: a finger-length ash arrow pinned

to an oak base. A quartz crystal nestled in an indentation in the base.

Sal-thaath splayed his thumb and five fingers over the finder. He

touched first the arrow, then the crystal. “There’s no magic in here.”

“I haven’t put it in yet. Watch.” Kron unpinned the arrow and took

it in his left hand. He grasped the base in his right, then he moved his

arms straight out to each side. He closed his eyes to focus his will.
The

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ash to seek and the oak to know. The ash to seek and the oak to know.

The ash to seek…

Kron’s arms were trembling by the time the pieces of the finder grew

warm. He plunged them into a bowl of water and held them there until

the quartz glowed. He dried them off, then pinned them back together.

“Now the arrow will always point to the nearest source of water, no

matter who holds the finder.” He gave the finder to Sal-thaath. “Go on,

try it.”

Sal-thaath floated around the shelter, testing the finder. No matter

where it was, the ash arrow always pointed towards the bowl. “Double-

clever!” he said as he dropped the finder on the ground. “This is a kind

of magic Mother and I never used before!”

Kron smiled. It felt good to have another magician praise his work.

And if he impressed Sal-thaath with his magic, maybe he could teach

him some respect for others, even people without magic. Then he

wouldn’t have to worry about Phebe’s temper and could visit Bella

again.

“Sal-thaath, if you promise to be careful, you can stay and watch me

make other magical instruments. You might even be able to help me.”

“Could I! I promise; please let me stay.” The boy’s eyes shone with

excitement. “This is more fun than catching birds in the forest.”

And safer for the birds too. “All right, but remember not to hurt an-

ything – or anyone. Now, let’s start by sorting out the pieces to these

finders you jumbled together.”

For the next week, Sal-thaath visited Kron every day. Sometimes he

stayed for only as long as it took for water to drop a level in the water

clock, sometimes all day. Sal-thaath was always willing to do whatever

Kron asked, whether it was to fetch wood or water or organize his ma-

terials. But instead of physically hauling the wood or water, he

transported it from the closest source. “This is easier,” he said when

Kron tried to explain the value of physical labor. In return, Kron shared

his meals with him, taught him how to make a few simple magical in-

struments, and listened to him chatter. Kron only sold his artifacts in

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the marketplace when Sal-thaath wasn’t with him. Word had spread

about what his finders could do, so he now sold a couple of artifacts

each time he visited the marketplace. But instead of moving into the

inn, Kron stayed in his shelter, not only to save for more supplies and

passage to Delns, but to keep Sal-thaath away from other people as

much as he could.

“You haven’t told your mother you visit me, do you?” he asked Sal-

thaath once.

The boy shrugged. “She’s been very busy looking at the stars. That’s

all we talk about lately, besides magic.”

Kron didn’t know whether to be relieved that Salth didn’t know

about their association or sad for Sal-thaath that he didn’t have other

company.

One morning Sal-thaath arrived as Kron was gathering some of his

finders and other magical tools into a sack. “Are you leaving?” he

asked, his eyes shadowed with worry.

“Today’s a market day. I’m going to trade these for supplies.” Kron

hesitated. Was Sal-thaath ready for the marketplace? He’d been very

good with Kron; perhaps it was time to see how he behaved with ordi-

nary people. He knelt and looked the boy in the eye. “You can come

with me…if you promise to be the best you’ve ever been.” He shook a

finger in the boy’s face. “No leaving my side, not for a heartbeat, no

getting angry at people, and no using your magic. Do you think you can

do that?”

Sal-thaath stuck out his lower lip, so Kron added, “And if you do,

I’ll buy you a sugared pastry afterwards.”

“I’ll be good! I’ll be good! Of course,” Sal-thaath said hopefully,

“I’d be even better if I had the sugared pastry first.”

Kron laughed. “After the market, not before. Now, help me decide

which pieces to sell and which ones to keep.”

The market was less than ten furlongs from Kron’s shelter, in the

town square. Kron chose a secluded, shaded spot next to a low stone

wall. Customers would find him once the word spread, and he could

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keep a better eye on Sal-thaath in a quiet area. Together, they spread

their wares on the dusty ground, then Kron boosted Sal-thaath to a seat

on the wall. He sat next to him.

“Now what happens?” Sal-thaath asked.

“Now we wait for people to come talk to us,” Kron replied.

He had been worried that Sal-thaath would find this part of the mar-

ket boring, but for all the boy’s spying, he didn’t know much about

towns. Obediently remaining on the wall while craning his neck in all

directions, he asked about everything from the types of buildings sur-

rounding them to the horses and donkeys pulling wagonloads of goods.

Kron patiently answered each string of questions as best as he could

before Sal-thaath found something else to distract him.

A few customers stopped by, more of them browsing than buying.

Still, Kron managed to sell two finders before he spotted a pair of fa-

miliar faces: Phebe and Bella. Bella was just as pretty as before, her hair

escaping from her head covering as if it knew life was too short to spend

it under restraint. His heart beat faster at the sight, then sped up even