Wielder: Apprentice: Book 1 of Lady Shey's Story (The Wielder Cycle) (2 page)

Enowene nodded and led Arbella to a petite bed in a tiny adjacent room.

The old woman brushed the dark hair from the sleeping girl’s eyes. “Do you know how special you are, my little Sheyna?” she said. She leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.

The Jovial Elf Inn was alight in red and yellow flame as Celestine, Enowene’s only daughter, led Sheyna away from the danger. Celestine paused to look back at the inn she called home one last time. Bathed in the fire light, she could see the source of the flame flying overhead.
A fire drake sent to find Sheyna, no doubt
, Celestine thought. She wrapped the blanket she had put around Sheyna a little tighter and scooted her along before the drake could see her.

“What is that bird, mother?” the little girl asked.

“It’s not a bird, dear child. We have to hurry now.”

“It flies like a bird.”

“It’s called a dragon, Sheyna, and it’s not a very friendly creature.”

“Did it burn our house down?”

“I am afraid so. Hurry now, we have to find Grandma.”

“Yay, grandma!” the little girl said with glee.

Celestine made sure she wasn’t followed as she approached the white tower. Enowene was waiting for her.

“Mother,” Celestine said, “it’s a fire drake this time. It burned down The Jovial Elf.”

“Grandma!” Sheyna raced to Enowene’s arms.

“Hello there, sweet pea,” Enowene said as she embraced the girl.

“I am going to lead the drake away from here. It may be time for your plan of last resort soon.”

Enowene sighed. “When she is a bit older, perhaps. For now, I will find her another family to stay with.”

Celestine held her hands over Sheyna’s ears and whispered, “Mother, the child is a danger to anyone she stays with. They will never stop looking for her.”

“They will never find her,” Enowene responded. “I will see to that.”

Celestine kissed Sheyna’s forehead and left her in Enowene’s care.

Enowene took the girl into the tower where Arbella waited. Tears rolled down Enowene’s cheeks as she put Sheyna’s hand into Arbella’s. “It’s time for her to forget.”

Arbella lowered her head and nodded. “Come on, Sheyna, let’s go play a game.”

Sheyna happily followed the old woman deeper into the tower.

Sheyna Namear’s stomach growled. What she wouldn’t give for a bit of bread! She would even take the bread slightly burned if she had to, or perhaps a small piece of meat, not too spoiled, but cooked or salted. At the moment, she did not seek money, or fame, or comfort of hearth and home, just food before all else. If she begged for money, she could buy food, but begging for money in the city of Symbor took too much time and effort. She could spend that time begging for food and eating it; taking food from unsuspecting vendors was easier still. Hiding in the shadows of the buildings across from the bakery and butcher shop, the ragged and dirty Sheyna waited for Bahdur the baker to turn his back long enough for her to dart out to the cart in front of his shop and snatch a loaf of bread. She would have to be quick; Bahdur was watchful of little thieves pilfering his goods, and he especially kept a diligent eye on his cart whenever he felt it was safe enough for him to bring it out onto the rugged street. Sheyna had been lingering in the shadows for longer than she intended, waiting, dreaming. Occasionally she would wipe the drool from her mouth, staring longingly at the golden-brown loaves displayed in hand-woven baskets partially covered with a bright blue cloth. The smell of the freshly-baked bread and the rumbling that smell caused in her stomach almost enticed her to make a mad dash to the cart whether the portly baker saw her or not. She was sure she could outrun him, but she had the sense to know that patience would be a better approach.

At once she saw her moment. An elderly woman had begun to haggle with Bahdur over the price of a loaf of onion bread. Sheyna stood upright in the shadow of an empty ale cart and stretched out her spindly little legs. She glanced down at the bit of parchment she had balled up in her fist. She could feel the power behind her words build as she spoke to it, and released the power into the parchment. Her enchantments never lasted long. She tried to make them permanent, and occasionally succeeded, but the use of too little power made the enchantment temporary and too much power disintegrated the object. Her sapphire blue eyes, prominent against her dirty face, were fixed on a small loaf on the edge of the cart. In a flash, Sheyna nimbly dashed from her hiding place and seized the loaf. She released the parchment from her free hand, and it changed into a white bird that flew directly at Bahdur and the woman’s heads before soaring up into the sky. While the baker and woman were ducking and cursing at the bird, Sheyna helped herself to another loaf. She scurried back to the shadows with her prize and carefully peered out to see if she had been caught. To her delight, Bahdur was still arguing with the elderly woman and pointing to the sky. Sheyna took a triumphant bite from the bread and then slunk along the side wall of the Sleeping Hound Inn to her next hiding place just outside the inn’s kitchen. Sheyna peered carefully into the smoky scullery, looking for Ignacio the cook; she could always get him to part with a scrap of meat or two. All she had to do was give him her saddest, most pathetic face, and he would bend completely to her will.

She hid away her stolen bread into a battered pack and peered through the scullery into the kitchen. The thin and well-groomed Ignacio was busy stirring something cooking in a large pot when he spotted her standing just outside his door.

“Little one, there you are. Quickly, come in and get behind me,” Ignacio directed. “I’m sure you are here for some morsel, and I shall not disappoint you. Hide, hide now. I can’t let you be seen in here.”

“Little one,” Sheyna protested. “I can remember ten seasons. I am at least as old as fourteen now.”

Ignacio smiled. “That may be so, but it isn’t what you lack in age, my dear, it is what you lack in stature. As pretty as you are, you are still a child of the streets, not fit to be seen in my kitchen.”

Sheyna let her head drop in sadness. Ignacio was right; she was far less than presentable. She tried to smooth down her dirty, ragged dress, but the fabric would not comply and bunched up. Sheyna sighed and moved to a corner of the kitchen, out of sight from the patrons in the main room.

Ignacio carved some roast beef and placed it in a cloth napkin. He added a few potatoes and cooked carrots. “Here now, go back to the streets.” He handed the food to her. “Remember, I want this napkin back.” Sheyna bowed and accepted the food. “Thank you,” she said politely.

“Go now, hurry, hurry,” Ignacio said as he rushed her out the door. At the last moment, he stopped her by her shoulders. “Wait, is that enough for you to get by?”

Sheyna almost toppled backward. “Oh yes, I am thankful for whatever you can spare me.”

“Okay, okay, now go; go quickly before you are seen.”

Sheyna ran as fast as she could to her favorite spot near the white tower of the Academy of the First Trine. Behind some overgrown brush lining the stone wall surrounding the structure was a crumbled-out hole big enough for her to fit in comfortably. The hole was the remnants of an old, disused, overgrown guard tower. She draped an old piece of cloth over a chunk of the fallen wall at the center of the opening to serve as a makeshift table. She placed the stolen bread, along with the cloth full of roast beef, potatoes, and carrots, out over her table and began to eat vigorously.

After she finished her meal, Sheyna carefully placed the cloth napkin on a pile of ten or fifteen identical cloth napkins. She planned to wash them and return them to the inn eventually. Ignacio always told her to return the napkins, but she never did. She looked once more in despair at her dress. The green and yellow of the once brilliant fabric had faded into a solid sickly green. She could not remember the last time she had it off or washed it. Despite what she was forced to do to feed herself, Sheyna actually detested stealing, but the lure of a new dress tugged at her sensibility. The only place she knew of to get a new, clean dress about her size was the laundry lines hung at the rear of the tower on the other side of the wall. Sometimes the dresses were forgotten and left to dry overnight. Sheyna decided to keep an eye out each night until one or two of the dresses were left out. Ignacio would be so surprised if she returned to him wearing a pretty blue, green, or red dress like the ones the girls attending the academy wore. She would have to visit the stream that flowed just outside of the city gates and clean herself up. She smiled to herself, leaned back against the inside of the crumbled wall, and dozed off to sleep.

When Sheyna awoke, daylight was fading. She righted herself, remembering the decision she had made about the dress. She pulled aside the thick vines hiding her hole in the wall from the courtyard on the tower side. The fresh laundry hung on a rope clothesline near the center. She ventured out into the courtyard but froze when her eye caught the form of a shadow inching along the base of the tower; it moved just enough to become detectable. She backed carefully into the vines to hide. After a few moments, she could make out the figure of a man crawling along the wall, silhouetted by the fading light. She tried to make out features of the man. The figure abruptly stopped. Sheyna wondered why. Did he spot her? She could not see from behind the vines, so she bravely moved from her hole in the wall, staying to darker shadows. She hesitated a moment and watched the stranger. If she could get closer, she might be able to see more. Sheyna moved expertly in shadow, and she produced two daggers handed down to her by her mother; both daggers she had managed to enchant permanently.

The wall met up to a curved section that joined up with the section of wall the stranger occupied. A low hedge hugged the half circle of the wall. Sheyna stayed to the shadows under the inside edge of the hedge and made the trip to the opposite end where the next wall began. From this vantage point she could see what the man looked like. He was slight in build and fairly tall. He appeared not much older than twenty seasons. He had blond or light brown hair and was well dressed from what she could see in the low light. From his side hung a sword, in his left hand a brimmed hat. He was staring up at the tower windows. Sheyna soon saw one of the girls appear. A sinking feeling filled her, and she blushed with anger. Was he trying to peep in on the girls in the tower? Sheyna pushed out from her hidden position behind the hedge and poised herself to leap and frighten him away, but when her head broke above the hedge, she caught a glimmer of another shadow. The man was not alone; another figure loomed deeper in the shadows where she could just barely make it out. She ducked back to her hiding space as it spoke.

“Do you see her?” Its voice was raspy, gurgling and unnatural. Like someone trying speak while being choked.

“No, perhaps the master was wrong. I have been watching this tower for days on end, and no one matches the description he gave me. These girls are all blonde-headed, or if they do have dark hair, they have brown or green eyes, not blue.”

The darker figure remained silent for a moment and then spoke again. “The master is never wrong. He would cut out your tongue for saying so. How do you make out the color of their eyes?”

“My people have extremely good vision.” He paused. “Don’t yours?”

“Yes, of course, but how can you tell blue from green? I should think you would have to be face to face.”

“I will admit it is difficult but not impossible. I often wait to see them in the light of the sun.”

“You dare let them see you?”

“Certainly, I just pass by from time to time, tipping my hat and giving a wink. There is no danger. I stay out of the grounds as if I am just passing by the tower while going about my daily business. I’m careful not to stroll by here too often.”

“You don’t want one of those wielders detecting you. The head mistress is not to be trifled with. In fact, she may already suspect you.”

“I have met her along the wall,” the blond man said confidently. “We exchanged smiles. She seems pleasant enough.”

“Do not be a fool, boy, keep vigilant, and I will check on you three days hence. You must remember, keep vigilant,” the dark figure repeated. “Remember your place or you may find your cockiness is your downfall. If that woman suspects you even a trifle, you are done for.”

“I will report as soon as I spot the girl. If the master is correct, it will be sooner than later.”