The Unwilling Apprentice (Book 2) (12 page)

"Here?" Fred's eyes flitted over the walls as though they'd grown ears and eyes.

Ned nodded. "The chaos brought about by your young friend's appearance shows that the fear instilled by Canavar's power has permeated the walls of this great city. I have seen this white madness too many times not to recognize its affects."

"White madness," Fred repeated. The words brought up the memory of the peoples' glowing skin. "When I was on the roof I saw white smoke and some of the people had skin that glowed white."

Ned's hands shook so bad he nearly lost his hold on his staff. "Then it is true, your sighting confirms it. Canavar seeks to influence the people and, I fear, the king. It bodes ill for us, and particularly for Pat's ascension to the leadership of Galaron's army."

"Isn't there a way to stop his influence? Can't we blow away the bad air with our magic like you blew away all the fires?" Fred asked him.

"I blow away the fires?" Ned repeated, and shook his head. "That wasn't I, but this Lady Martley. She has great skills for a castor of whom I've never heard."

"Martley's a castor?" Fred wondered.

"Yes, but that mystery is for another time. We were speaking of Canavar's power, which is not so much a spell as a curse."

Fred's face drooped. "What's the difference?"

Ned walked over to him and wrapped an arm around the boy's shoulders. "A curse has no time limit and is very powerful, while a spell is less so."

"Oh. Then how are we going to break the curse?" Fred wondered.

The old man paused, scrunched up his face, and shrugged. "I haven't the slightest idea, especially at this late hour. Did you come here to retire?"

Fred remembered his mission. "Ruth got permission from her father to pay her life-debt to us, so she's in Pat's bedroom. We were wondering if her amulet keeps her awake during the day or if she'll turn to stone."

Ned pulled at his beard and led Fred over to the door. "If my memory serves me then yes, it will prevent her from turning to stone, but only if she retains her human form. If she tries to return to her original body she will sleep as any other gargoyle."

"Right, I'll go tell them." Fred left the room and returned to the girls. He passed on the information. Pat was relieved and Ruth was ecstatic.

"I cannot wait to see the sun over the sky!" she eagerly told them.

"Speaking of sun, I would like to get some sleep before that rises," Pat spoke up. The hour was well past midnight, and a thought struck Fred.

"Does that mean it's your birthday right now?" he asked her.

Pat furrowed her brow and finally shrugged. I suppose it does."

Fred grinned and held out his hand. "Congratulations on living this long."

Pat rolled her eyes, but took his hand and gave a hearty shake. "I couldn't have done it without you and Ned."

A pair of hands broke in between them, and the humans looked over to their gargoyle friend. She smiled back. "Congratulations to you both."

Fred laughed. "It's not my birthday today. Mine is in a month or two."

Pat raised an eyebrow. "Or two?" she repeated.

Fred shrugged. "I'm not really sure. My parents would celebrate it around this time and mention how I was born under a shooting star, but I lost track of the exact date a few years ago."

"I still wish you both a happy birthday," Ruth insisted.

"And to you, also," Pat returned. They all shook hands and congratulated one another on living to such a great age. The friends parted, with Fred returning to his room. He found Ned retired and asleep, and soon joined him.

The next day broke bright and early, and there was a great crowing in Fred's ear. He bolted upright and his face flew into the wispy hair of Ned's beard. The boy struggled to free himself of the great mass of hair, and Ned pulled them apart. Ned fell back on his butt and Fred glared at him. "Were you trying to strangle me?"

Ned chuckled and raised himself to his feet. "I was merely awakening you for your first full day as my servant."

"Apprentice," Fred blandly reminded him.

Ned tapped his chin and wrinkled his nose. "I suppose we may use that title."

Fred rolled his eyes, rolled out of bed, and into a fresh pair of clothes. They went downstairs for breakfast, and Fred had his first glimpse of the dining hall. The room was three times larger than that of Tramadore, and more decadent. Tapestries hung from the walls between the stained-glass windows, and the four dozen wood chairs around the long, thick wood table were as large as the Uncomfortable Chair.

The pair found the long table crowded with the other guests. Percy and his father were of the party, and they nodded politely at the castors. King Stephen was at the head of the grand party, and he gestured them over. They heeded his call and found the seats on either side of him to be empty. "Please be seated," he commanded them, and they obeyed. Fred noticed the king looked carefully at him. "This morning I was given some astounding news by residents of Tramadore concerning this boy here." The noisy table grew quiet as they listened to the king's words.

Ned raised an eyebrow. "Indeed? What news was this?"

Stephen reveled in the attention and puffed himself up like a peacock. "That he is none other than the boy who sat on the Uncomfortable Chair." The guests gasped and whispered among themselves. Fred shrank beneath all those eyes staring at him. "Why did you not inform me of this sooner? I would have shown him the honor due to such a destined individual."

Ned bowed his head. "My apologies, Your Highness, but we sought to protect Lady Lamakin first, and fulfill his destiny second."

"Perhaps they are closely connected," King Stephen pointed out. "And as such, I must insist on his being one of her guardians."

Fred perked up at the demand, and Ned smiled. "That is very gracious of you, Your Highness, and as his master I accept your offer."

The king's eyebrows crashed down. "Master? What means this?" Fred winced at the royal's displeased tone.

"I have taken him on as my apprentice, Your Highness," Ned replied.

"Without my permission? Unconscionable!" King Stephen exclaimed. He stood up and pounded his fist against the table. The other guests froze. "At whose table do you reside? Under whose roof do you now find comfort?"

Ned bowed his head. "Yours, Your Highness, but an apprentice does not cease to be nor is created an apprentice merely by location."

Stephen's face reddened and he sputtered out his words. "You dare advise me on my rights! I am king here and-"

"-and Your Highness is frightening his guests," a calm voice interrupted. The party swung their heads toward the door and watched Lady Martley walk up to the king's throne. She curtsied to him and seated herself opposite the two men. "Surely you will not object to Ned here helping this young man, ordained by the Chair himself, to fulfill his destiny as a great man,? she scolded the royal. She took a goblet in front of her plate and poured herself a healthy quantity of wine from the pitcher. "It would be as though you were trying to stop the Lady Lamakin from taking charge of her duties as leader of your army."

Stephen's face cooled and he fumbled for his words. "What? No, of course I would not prevent such a thing. I merely wished to instruct Ned here on the proper respect he should show to me."

Martley sipped on her wine, and smiled over the brim. "A true king would not need to remind his subjects of his power," she schooled him. Stephen's mouth flopped open and shut like a fish, and before he could think of a reply Martley glanced around at the guests. "But where is the lady of honor? Is she not down yet?"

"I'm here," Pat's voice called from the hall, and she entered the room dragging Ruth behind her. The gargoyle girl was enamored with the light from the windows and bumped into chairs and walls. Pat wore a long dress, and she occasionally tripped over the shoes and the hem on the way to her seat beside Martley. She stood before the king and curtsied to him. "Good morning, Your Highness," she politely greeted him.

Her polite manners pleased the royal and soothed what anger was left. He took her hand and kindly led her back to her seat. "Good morning to you, my dear lady and future captain. I hope you slept well, regardless of the city's slight touch of panic last evening."

"I slept very well, thank you," Pat replied as she seated herself. The dark bags under her eyes told a different story, and seeing Ruth's energy told him the gargoyle was the reason behind the lack of sleep.

Stephen returned to his seat, but stood over the table and glanced at those seated at the head. His face was filled with admiration, but Fred didn't trust the man's moods. They changed course faster than the course of a flooding river. "What honor you all do me by appearing at my table." He raised his glass and his guests followed suit. "To the future Captain of Galaron, and this young lad-" He forgot the boy's name.

"Fred, Your Highness," Martley reminded him.

"Ah yes, to Fred, the future leader of a great change." Fred cringed at the wrong reading of his destiny. "May you both bring Galaron and the world prosperity." The king drank from his goblet.

"Here, here!" were the muffled replies from the other guests, and they joined in the drink.

As Fred looked over the rim at the table, his eyes fell on Ruth. She couldn't look away from the sun, and her eyes blinked constantly to keep from watering. Pat sat opposite him and ruthlessly pulled at the collar of her dress. Beside her was Martley, who winked at him. He snatched a glance at the mad king, but the man was deep in talk with Ned about the celebration supper that night. Down the table sat Percy and Sturgeon, and the elder watched them with a careful eye. Fred wondered what sort of a madhouse he had joined.

CHAPTER 12

The rest of the day was both tedious and busy. Ned and Fred watched the goings-on in the preparations for the supper, and poor Pat was sucked into the middle of the affair with Martley and Ruth at her sides. Dresses were fitted, hair done up, and the day wore on. There was some trouble in convincing the cooking staff back into the possessed kitchen, but on threat of the king's displeasure they resumed their work and made a grand meal for the occasion.

The only diversions the men gave themselves was a walk through the city. Fred watched for signs of the white smoke, but he witnessed nothing unordinary. The singed remains of the burnt buildings were removed and the broken houses were fixed. They walked along the streets for a long while until he sidled up to Ned and lowered his voice so none overheard him. "Are we looking for something?"

Ned nodded. "Signs of Canavar's influence."

"But wouldn't someone notice the white smoke?" The sun was bright over their heads, and no fog obscured the streets.

The old man shook his head. "Only those with a gifted eye, or someone who knew what they were looking for would see his smoke. However, I am looking for something even less obvious, a stone."

Fred blinked. "A stone?" He looked around them; they were surrounded by stone houses and walked on stone streets. "Um, is this a special stone?"

"Do you recall the stone you destroyed to rescue Pat at the Salaron?" Fred nodded; that had been the source of the monster's power. "We are looking for a similar stone, only larger."

"Larger? Why larger?" he asked Ned.

Ned sighed and steered them into an alley. He removed a round ball about three inches in diameter from his cloak and held it out. Fred caught a whiff of a horrible smell of rotten eggs and flinched back. "Do you smell the Dirth beetle inside this ball?"

"How could I miss it?" Fred countered.

"This beetle comes from the region of Dirth to the north of Sterning, which is where we reside now. It has a sack filled with its excrement that it ejects when in danger. Children in Dirth play tricks on each other with these balls."

Fred pinched his nose to stop the smell. "I still don't understand how this is like a bigger stone," he replied.

Ned grinned, put the ball back into his cloak and pulled forth another ball. Fred's eyes bulged out when he realized this ball was nearly ten times larger than the last one. The stench was horrendous; not even plugging his nose stopped the horrid scent from invading his nostrils. He clapped one hand over his mouth to keep from retching. "This is referred to as a master bomb. It holds about one hundred Dirth beetles and is used in warfare."

"How are you carrying that around?" Fred gasped out. He felt lightheaded and sick at the same time.

"Magic, but that is not for this lesson. This larger ball represents the larger stone we are looking for. The area of effect is much larger because the stone is much larger." He held the ball out toward the alley entrance, and the people nearby gagged and raced away. "See? A greater area of effect."

Fred couldn't take much more of this lesson. "Please put it away," he pleaded.

Ned stuffed the ball back into his cloak and the smell instantly vanished. Fred slumped down onto his knees and gasped in the clean air. Ned bent down and patted the boy on the back while his eyes twinkled with mischief. "Life lessons are harsh."