Enlightenment

CHAPTER TWENTY

Mrs. Lamont, the lady the flagman had directed them to see for a room to rent, was located in a small storefront at street level of a two-story building like most of the city were. She sat in an oversized chair at a desk she dwarfed. Looking up, she flashed a whole-mouth smile and said, “What can I do for you?”

The driver had unloaded their bags and brought them inside, where Prin tried to offer a tip but was refused. He departed with a jaunty wave, and Prin turned back to Sara and listened.

“We’re sailors, and our ship is being refitted. We need a place for at least a month,” Sara was telling the woman at the desk.

The large woman’s eyes flicked to Brice. “Two rooms would be proper. I run a decent business.”

Sara reacted as if slapped across her face. She reddened and then leaned closer. “You know nothing of our relationship yet you judge us. Suppose I explain that we are sisters and brother, or that in our land we marry early—and often. You might at least wait to hear what accommodations we request until you pass judgment on good people or we may do the same to you.”

Mrs. Lamont placed her hands together on her little desk and intertwined her fingers as she set her jaw. Her voice became silky smooth, “What sort of room were you looking for, if I may ask?”

Sara matched her tone, “We were looking for more than a single room. There are three of us and we all value privacy. However, we did not wish three separate small rooms, but perhaps an apartment? Nothing fancy, but we prefer to cook in and eat our own foods. We are not concerned with location if there is convenient shopping for food nearby.”

“Ah, that is a little more expensive, but not unreasonable. The money you save by making your meals at home will more than pay the difference, I’m sure. I have a few properties as you describe, one that I think will be perfect for a brother and his sisters.”

Sara sat. “Tell me about it.”

“It is near here, with a view above the rooftops of the harbor where you can see the ships. A small terrace, two sleeping rooms and a small storage room that has been used for sleeping in the past. Fully furnished, nothing fancy, as you say, but clean.”

“A common room and kitchen?”

“Yes. And the price is reasonable, hardly more than three separate rooms.” She quoted the price, which was less than Prin and Sara had discussed on the ship.

“When can we see it?”

Mrs. Lamont called in a foghorn voice, “William!”

A young man rushed into the room and pulled to a halt as he caught sight of Sara, his eyes going wide, and he tugged at his tunic hem and stood straighter. “Ma’am?”

“Escort these three to the Turner house.” She turned back to Sara, “Leave your things here. While he regains his wits about him, go see if it is suitable and if so, you may stop by later and pay me. I’m sure William will be more than happy to make a return trip if you decide to rent. And, of course, I have other rentals if this one does not fit your needs.” The tone still held a chill at being scolded.

William stood taller than any of them, his pale skin dotted with freckles, and his hair had a slight reddish tint in the bright sunlight. He tried to speak to Sara twice and failed each time. Finally, he locked his eyes on Brice’s and said, “It is not far. Follow me.”

The woman at the desk laughed crudely at his discomfort, but Sara took pity on him and stepped to William’s side, her elbow held out to him. “Thank you. Would you please take my arm and escort me?”

William eagerly accepted her arm. He encircled her elbow with his hand and motioned with his other arm in the way they should take. As they left the office, Prin noticed the glare Mrs. Lamont threw Sara’s way. She suspected they would never become best friends.

He took them out onto the street, turned right along the cobblestones, traveled two blocks with Williams' head held high, then turned right again. He pulled to a stop beside a building with an exterior stairway. “This is it,” he mumbled.

The building was bland in appearance, bluish white stucco in a middle-class neighborhood, the roof of curved tiles made of the same local clay. A large clay pot of the same color held a stunted evergreen shrub at the bottom of the stairs, and at the top, a narrow tray grew a sort of ivy that dropped down the wall. With a good watering now and then, it would probably grow lush.

William pulled a ring of keys and unlocked the massive padlock. Inside, the apartment was dark and cool. As described, a central room, a small kitchen to one side, White clay floor tiles, a stack of firewood ready for cooking, and a terrace barely large enough for three to sit at the small table.

But the view was magnificent. The white rooftops of the buildings sloping down the hillside, the sun reflecting off the sparkling harbor, and a few hundred ships anchored in the blue waters. On the piers, she saw the loading and unloading of cargo, the shipyards, and more of the city across the crescent of water.

Inside were two minuscule rooms for sleeping, and a third even smaller. All had sleeping pallets neatly rolled and stored, the central room held four chairs, all with padded seats, and two small tables. Nothing else. No pictures, paintings, plants, or anything else. It was perfect.

Sara said to William, “Will you take me back so I can pay? And I need to have our things brought here.”

“I can do that. Both. I can do both,” he stuttered, then reached for her elbow as if that was the proper way for them to walk together. Sara ceremoniously accepted his arm again, and as they departed, Prin thought she walked just a bit closer than necessary.

After they had departed, Prin went back to stand on the terrace. The morning sun struck it full on, which meant that it would be in the shade for the afternoon. She fell into a chair, satisfied and anxious at the same time. Brice had been unusually quiet, but she had taken the time to observe him and liked what she saw, but another subject had to be broached.

“Brice, sit and talk to me.”

He sat uncomfortably as if expecting his good luck to come to an end. “I need to thank you again.”

Prin stood again, leaning on the rail and looking over the little terrace to the street below. Nobody was within hearing distance. She settled back and said, “You are different than other people, but I expect you know that on some level.”

“Excuse me?” He rose.

“Brice, sit back down and listen.”

He sat on the edge of his chair again, wary and ready to bolt.

Prin spoke in a gentler tone. “I will be blunt. You’re different. You know it. But you are not alone. Sara and I are much like you. Different, but sort of the same.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His voice almost broke.

“Things around you sometimes happen. Things others cannot do, cannot explain.”

“Like what?”

She decided to be even more direct. “Magic.”

He was on his feet again, fear flooding his normally pleasant face. He looked ready to leap over the railing and run off. She saw his shallow breathing coming fast. Escape had probably been his only way of coping and staying alive. His eyes darted to the doorway.

Prin understood she had underestimated his fear and reaction. She should have waited for Sara and consulted her, and she didn’t know what to do except let him bolt. Without thinking, Prin held up her index finger as if pointing, and grew a tiny flame at the tip, then increases it, before shutting it down.

He sat again, mouth hanging open.

She said, “We’re trying to help you. What I just revealed could cost me my life, so you are now indebted to me. And you need to listen to me like your life is in my hands.”

“What?”

“You have magic powers. Somewhere inside of your mind, you know that. But I don’t think you understand it, or how to use any magic, and when you tried some magic in the past, bad things happened uncontrollably, probably to many people around you. People became angry. You had to run to survive and ended up working on a ship. That’s all guesses, but true?”

He nodded, his mouth still open, but he appeared to be less likely to panic and run. He said, “How do you know all this? This magic? And me?”

She decided to answer truthfully. “There’s a shimmer around your head, and fuzziness that only a sorceress can see.”

His hands went to his head.

Prin said, “I think it has something to do with magic being in you. I heard that’s how they know which boys have the powers to become mages, so they take them from their families for training when they are younger than you.”

“My parents have been dead for a long time. I barely remember them.”

Prin smiled, and tried to stifle it, but not before Brice saw.

“That’s funny to you?”

Prin sobered. “Not the reality of their deaths, just our similar circumstances, so I understand your problem. I lost three fathers a short while ago, but you said they are dead for a long time. Is there a way to be dead for less time?”

“Three fathers? Are you some kind of freak? I’m beginning to wonder if I should have stayed in the sailor’s rooms on the pier where I’d just be living with drunkards and thieves.” But his actions belied his words. He did not deny his problems or powers, and he had settled back into the chair so bolting would be harder.

Prin said, “Relax, Brice. We’re going to explain it all, or what we know, and we’re going to try to hide that fuzziness, so others don’t spot you like we did.”

“You keep saying, we. Is Sara also a sorceress?”

“Yes, but I hope she’s not mad at me for telling you that without her being here. Listen, we are running from powerful mages, and neither of us is a decent sorceress, yet. We’re almost as weak and uneducated in the powers of magic as you. But we have books that will help us learn, and that’s why we rented this place. Before going back to the ship, I hope to know a dozen spells. And in those books, there may be things a mage can learn.”

Sara was standing behind them, listening. She said, “And if there is not, we may be able to locate a book or two on how to train a mage.”

Brice leaped at her voice, but Prin only smiled. She said, “Everything good?”

“Rather than have Mrs. Lamont put other renters here at the end of a month if the refit of the ship is not complete, I made a deal for two months, and we forfeit what we don’t use. But the price was lower per month.”

Brice said, “If the two of you are enchantresses, prove it.”

Prin said, “I already have with the finger-fire. But we have in a few other ways, too. We also did it when we spotted you from among all the others at the shipyards.”

Sara said, “Brice, we’ll prove it again, but not now. Right now, we must buy a few supplies, but I’ve marked some pages in the journal I’m working on, and some are simple enough spells.”

“Like what kind of magic?” Brice asked.

Sara pulled one of the inside chairs close to the terrace. “Okay, there is what I call a dry-spell. When it rains, I don’t get wet. The water sort of flows over my skin and clothing to the ground. There is a love potent that will make someone like another, or with the stronger version, make them love that person. Of course, there are limits to them. Oh, and I have arrows that never miss what I aim at.”

Prin said, “I’ve used a forget-spell where a person breathes in the fumes of a purple grape, and they sit down and forget everything for the rest of the day. And the no-see-me spell, like the one Evelyn has at her tree. I sprinkled the powder on me, and it didn’t make me disappear, it made people look everywhere but at me, even when they were close enough to touch.”

“You didn’t tell me about that,” Sara said.

“I was in the pool at the creek at Evelyn’s, and two hunters came into the clearing. I couldn’t run or hide, so I sat still. They went right through the clearing without seeing me, but they were so close I heard everything they said. It had to be one of Evelyn’s spells, or maybe one left over from someone using the tree before her.”

Sara looked excited. “I hadn’t heard of a spell like that, and certainly didn’t know you used one, but I think I found a similar spell in the journal but didn’t understand when it talked about seeing, and not-seeing.”

“What’s first?” Prin asked.

“Shopping,” Sara said. “I have a list of things, besides food.”

Brice asked, “Do the men where you come from also shave their heads?”

Sara glanced at Prin for confirmation, then said, “Brice, we only met you today. While we hope to get to know you and that all of us become great friends, the truth is that we’ve already placed our lives in a stranger’s hands by speaking to you. It was a foolish choice. We should have been more cautious. But, we need to keep a few things to ourselves—at least for a time.”

Prin spread the contents of part of her bag on a chair and found another pointed hat, a dark blue one. She said, “I’ve been looking at you closely, and I think that shimmer around your head is from your hair. When you turn sideways, I see it on the back of you, but not on your nose or cheeks.”

Sara started circling him. “You’re right.”

Prin held up the hat that matched theirs, all but the color. Prin wore green while Sara preferred dull red. “We should shave off his hair before we go out.”

Brice shook his head and held his hands out as if to stop them.

Sara said, “Calm down. It’ll grow back, but if it’s the hair that is giving you away, it’s going to bring danger to you, sooner or later. I’m amazed it hasn’t happened yet. Probably just the luck of being on a ship with only a few crewmen. But in a city this size, you’re sure to be spotted.”

Prin said, “Besides, shaving and wearing a hat like ours will make it seem we’re family, or from the same land. Is there anybody searching for you? If so, they will think twice.”

“Three times,” Sara said, pointing to each of them.

“Maybe later,” Brice said.

Sara approached him like a lion that had been slapped by the claws of a kitten. She stalked him, face stern, ready to teach him a lesson. Pulling up one small step from his chest, she said, “You need to listen to us, respect what we say, and understand my next few words. Shaving your head is not an option if you wish to survive ten more days, because no gambling house in my homeland would take odds on you doing better than that. You can shave your head or die.”

Brice stood silently, not agreeing with her, nor backing away.

She placed one finger in the center of his chest and applied pressure. “But that’s your problem. Mine is for me to remain alive and I am telling you now,” she pushed harder with her finger, “that your stubbornness will not bring about my death, or the death of Prin.”

Her final shove pushed him back a step, but she continued advancing.

“I’ll do it,” he muttered sourly, “I’ll cut my hair.”

“Not good enough. Now, I want you to use your brain and think. Since meeting you, we may have already saved your life, but you don’t know that for sure, yet. What you do know is that we have offered to share our food, shelter, money, wisdom, education, and Prin has secured you a position on our ship. In return, you have . . .”

“Done nothing,” Prin filled in. “But argue, question, and resist.”

Sara said, “I realize this is all new to you, but your life is in danger. We can help, but we’re not obligated to do anything. So, this is how we’re going to proceed. Prin get your bag, and you and I are going shopping.”

“And me?” Brice asked.

“As I said, you will not place us in danger, and we can’t trust you to do what we say without a fight. That could cost us all, at any time. When we tell you what to do, you have to do it and ask questions later, but I don’t think you really believe or understand what I’m saying. So, I’m putting you on the stairs like a cat to guard the house. If any mice come along, run them off. Or you can run off, and we’ll never see each other again.”

Brice bristled, his face twisting in hurt and fear.

Prin threw the strap of the backpack over her shoulder. Inside were her most precious items, all that she’d removed from her father’s apartment, but especially the paintings, and above all, the one that changed expressions. She wondered what face they wore now.

Sara fell into step with her, and as they turned at the first cross street, her eyes went to Brice. Prin didn’t look at him, she watched Sara’s eyes and knew what she saw. Prin said, “You were hard on him.”

“He’s had a soft life. Not enough fear to temper him.”

Prin increased the length of her strides to match those of Sara. A stray breeze threatened to blow her hat off, so she grabbed the brim and pulled it firmly down. “Do you have any idea of where we’re going?”

“The market.”

“Is it this way?”

Sara paused and shrugged. “That boy back there is scaring me so much I can’t think straight. We should have let him go on about his way.”

Prin pulled to a stop, forcing Sara to do the same. “The same as we would do if we came upon a baby playing with a sharp knife?”

“At least that baby and knife are not likely to be the death of either of us.” Sara strode away, Prin hurrying to catch up.