Glasswrights' Apprentice (19 page)

Rani was exhilarated by the search. She imagined herself on one of her father's buying missions, finding treasures to enrich the merchant stall.

Once she nearly came to fisticuffs with Rabe over a pair of leather gloves. They must have been cut for a lady - the leather fingers were narrow, and short enough that they fit the children. Rabe found the left glove on top of a rubbish heap at the same time that Rani found the right, blown against a stone wall in the alley. Turning back the soiled cuff to hide a worn seam, Rabe demanded that Rani hand over her treasure.

Rani did not care for the gloves until she saw how much Rabe wanted them. Then, the blue-dyed leather took on a special allure, becoming the perfect complement to Farna's cloak. Rani thrust out her chin as she anchored her feet in the alley's debris. Ultimately, Mair refereed the dispute.

Rani wore the gloves for the rest of the day, even though they hindered her efforts at some of the dirtier scavenging.

That night, the troop settled into makeshift quarters, back in the thready streets that unraveled between the City's established quarters. Mair had seen that each of her charges had enough to eat, stopping to chat with every child and exclaim about some treasure or other. As the ragged band settled down to sleep, Mair appointed the first guard, then came to sit beside Rani.

“Ye did just fine, fer a girl 'oo never combed th' Nobles' locks before.” Rani stretched out her fingers, taking advantage of the moon's glimmer to study her treasured gloves. Mair shifted to a more comfortable position, producing a ragged blanket from her well-packed satchel. “Rabe'll not be comin' 'round t' friendship if ye keep lordin' yer roots over 'is.”

“Lording!” Rani exclaimed, but lowered her voice as sleepy eyes focused on the pair. “
He's
the one who's been lording it over me. Ever since you asked me to join your group.”

“'E's afraid, Rai. 'E fears losin' th' only family 'e 'as in all th' world.”

Rani snorted. “I'm not likely to cut him out of his place with you.”

“Ye've got
my
blanket over yer knees, don't ye?” Rani almost squirmed from beneath the wool throw as Mair sighed. “Ach, e's not long fer takin' comfort wi' us, i' any case. It's almost time 'e found 'is own way. 'E could lead a 'andful o' Touched as well as I. Or 'e could find 'imself a solid job, a man's job i' almost any noble 'ouse.”

“I didn't mean to -”

“Aye, Rai, you dinna mean t' do anything t' upset th' lives o' yer Touched kin.” Mair's words were so matter-of-fact - and so disbelieving - that Rani could think of no response. Leaning against the crumbling wall, she heard the muffled breath of sleeping children around her. Mair's body was close to hers, and the blanket settled over them like a warm pudding. Rani let herself drift, thinking how far she had roamed that day, and how much she had learned about life in the City that she thought she'd known her entire life. Her legs were heavy with fatigue, and her eyelids drooped.

“Rai?” Mair's voice was leaden with her own drowsiness, and Rani almost failed to produce an answering grunt. “What's it like t' live in one o' them houses, wi' a mother 'n' a father, 'n' brothers 'n' sisters around all th' time?”

Tears of self-pity soaked the back of Rani's throat. “It's like… It's like all the sunlight in the world, streaming through the Cathedral windows.”

“Why don't ye go back then? Ye couldna 'ave done somethin' so bad yer own ma wouldna take ye back.”

“They're gone.” Rani's voice cracked. “I did something - or the King's Men
think
I did something - so terrible they've taken all my family away. I think they want me to come to the prison, to ask for my folk to be released.”

“We'll go tomorrow,” Mair promised, as easily as if she were agreeing to steal a pie from a window sill. “What're their names?”

“Jotham and Deela Trader.”

Mair's breath whistled between her teeth and her body stiffened beneath the blanket. “Ye're th' one they're seekin' then. Th' one 'oo killed th' Prince.”

Rani froze, conscious that her next words could save or destroy her. “I'm the one the soldiers
say
killed the Prince. I didn't, though.”

“Ye're Ranita Glasswright. Rani Trader.”

“I'm Rai.”

There was a long moment of silence, and Rani watched Mair decide whether to summon the night-watch, to hand over a murderous fugitive. The apprentice forced herself to calculate the angle she would leap to be free of the blanket, to flee down the alley when Mair set off an alarm.

“I've got bad new fer ye.”

“What?” Rani barely managed to force the syllable past her pounding heart.

“Yer parents weren't just taken t' Shanoranvilli's dungeons. Th' soldiers 'ad their sport. It was all th' capt'n could do t' rein in 'is angry men after th' Prince was killed. Jotham and Deela Trader'll be feelin' no pain now.”

Rani felt the air pressed out of her lungs, but she forced stunned questions past her lips. “And my brothers? My sisters?”

“Th' same, they say. They're all at peace now, Rai.”

“Even Bardo?” Rani could scarcely manage the two words in her disbelief. Even when she was abandoned in the marketplace, she had not imagined her entire family
dead.
Imprisoned unjustly on her behalf, yes, tortured and starved - but executed!

“Bardo? Yer brother is Bardo?” For the first time, Rani heard fear in Mair's voice - fear, and the sharp note of discovery as the Touched girl fit together her bits of knowledge. “If ye're Bardo Trader's sister, Rai, that's another story. Another tale entirely.” Mair pulled the blanket from Rani's legs, huddling deep within the wool as if hiding from a nightmare. Rani shivered in the sudden midnight chill, but managed to force words past her swelling throat.

“Then Bardo still lives?”

“Mair's answer was pulled from reluctant lips, and the Touched girl's fingers flickered in a protective sign. “Aye. Or so the rumors say.”

Rani heard more, though, volumes left unspoken. “Tell me, Mair. Tell me about my brother.”

 

 

Chapter 8

 

 

Uncharacteristically, Mair looked away from Rani, gathering up the blanket and feeding it through nervous fingers, as if she were shelling peas. Rani waited impatiently for several minutes, blinking in the moonlight, but finally curiosity roughened her voice. “What? What could be so terrible that you can't even tell me?”

“We're caught in th' dark o' night, Rai, 'n' there're things better said i' th' day, if they 'ave t' be said at all.”

“Oh no you don't! I'm not going to sit here all night, imagining all sorts of terrible things!”

“Whatever ye're imaginin' it's no worse'n th' truth.”

The grim words clutched Rani's heart, and she swallowed hard but she forced her voice into a coaxing wheedle. “Come, Mair. It can't be as bad as all that. It can't be worse than what you've already told me - that my family is all … gone.” The words did not sound real as she pleaded. “Tell me what you know, and we'll figure out the truth of things.”

Mair sighed deeply. Rani felt the leader's body relax against her own, and she managed to release her own pent breath, aware that Mair had come to a decision - a decision that Rani might regret. “All right, Rai. But you willna like what ye're goin' t' ''ear.”

“There's a lot about this whole thing I don't like. At least I know you're going to tell me the truth.”

“Aye, Rai, at least ye know that.” Mair jutted her chin toward a sleeping shape, some distance down the alley. “Ye've surely noticed that Rabe isn't th' easiest among th' Touched.”

“I've noticed,” Rani said wryly, unable to resist flexing her fingers inside her hard-won gloves.

Mair noticed the movement and restrained a grim smile. “'E 'asn't always been wi' us. Not all th' Touched children roam in troops like us, ye know.”

“Of course,” Rani snorted reflexively. Until she managed the two words, it had not occurred to her that she knew next to nothing about how the Touched lived - other than Mair's little group of followers and the adults who were fortunate enough to find work as servants. For Rani's entire life, the Touched had been merely the most lively of countless wonders scattered about the City quarters. They were the lowest of the castes; technically, they
had
no caste. In Rani's closed mind, the ragged folk were no more citizens of King Shanoranvilli's realm than the carving on Noble houses and the fine signs outside merchant shops. The Touched simply were, and for all Rani knew, always had been.

Mair was no fool, and she apparently read Rani's two words as a confession of ignorance. “There're 'ole Touched families, just like ye 'ave among th' merchants 'n whatnot. A mother 'n' father 'n' a passel o' kids.” The leader waved a hand to take in all her charges. “We're t'gether because we chose t' leave our families, or because they left us. One way 'r another.”

Rani could hear a surprising ripple of sorrow beneath Mair's words, but she did not want to interrupt the lesson to pry into Mair's own story. “Well, Rabe,” Mair continued, apparently unaware of Rani's curiosity, “'e came from one o' those families. 'Is mother was always plottin', always schemin'. She was good enough t' mint coins in th' alley, she was.” Mair's voice was quiet, respectful, and Rani realized that Mair had dreams of being the best Touched thief and beggar in all the City - just as Rani had once been certain she would be the best merchant and, later, the best glasswright. “One day, Rabe's ma came up wi' her riskiest plan.”

Mair's whisper fogged the night air, and Rani had to lean close to catch the scarce-breathed words. The leader might have chosen Rani over Rabe where the gloves were concerned, but she clearly had no intention of hurting her lieutenant with overheard tales of his family's past. Rani's breath froze in her throat as she tried to capture the whispered story. “Rabe's mother was goin' t' steal from a merchant - rare goods that weren't likely t' be found elsewhere i' th' City - 'n' then she was goin' t' sell back th' treasures, later, when th' merchant realized how much 'e needed th' goods. She'd worked out th' 'ole thing, stealin' while an apprentice was i' th' shop, sellin' back to th' merchant 'imself. She figured she'd make a finer penny if she worked over a merchant in th' Quarter instead o' th' Market - th' Council's too strong there, keeps too sharp an eye on th' likes o' us. No, she worked out 'er plan well. I'll not bore ye wi' th' details; suffice t' say she stood t' make a tidy profit.”

Rani nodded; she had firsthand knowledge of such a scam. “Someone did that to my father.” She shuddered, remembering her family's rage, remembering her own horrified guilt. “A ragged old woman came in at the end of the day and managed to steal a set of pewter spoons. Spoons and a pair of shoe buckles.”

What Rani neglected to tell Mair was that
she
was the one responsible for the theft. It had been the first day her father had ever left her alone in the stall. He had been gone for scarcely half an hour. For some long-forgotten reason, Rani's mother and siblings had been occupied elsewhere. Even now, Rani could remember watching the grubby Touched woman enter the shop. Rani knew that no Touched woman had any legitimate reason to be in her father's stall. Nevertheless, Rani was a young child at the time, and a respectful one, and she could hardly order an elder out into the street.

Of course, that was precisely what she should have done, as her father had told her in no uncertain terms. He'd realized the spoons and buckles were missing immediately, and he had berated Rani for not keeping a closer eye on his goods. Late that night, she had finally fallen asleep, exhausted after sobbing through supper and evening prayers and all her household chores. Her father had not even permitted her the dignity of paying back the stall from her small store of hoarded coins; even though the lost goods were only made out of pewter, they were worth more than all of Rani's meager accumulation. Rani could still remember the confused hope that had tightened her chest when the Touched woman re-entered the shop a fortnight later. The crafty old witch had taken care to scrub the pewter wares, doing her best to mar their smooth surfaces, and Rani's unschooled eye actually did not recognize the treasures. Even as Rani's pulse quickened, Bardo had stood beside her, and he lost no time establishing that the goods were those that had been stolen. There was something about the buckles - they came from a distant corner of the realm, and they had a special clasp on the back, a unique twist that no other merchant could boast.

Looking back, Rani could still remember the angry fire that had burned in Bardo's eyes. He had hidden his knowledge, though, that he was buying back his own wares. Bardo had bargained with the Touched woman, striking the deal as if his heart was not truly in the negotiations. He paid out precious silver, counting it into the thief's filthy palm without seeming to realize that he was paying at least three more coins than Rani knew the goods were worth.

That night, Rani wrestled with terrifying dreams as she slept beneath the rafters, tossing and turning on the sea of her sisters' snores. She imagined that she heard the shop door open and close at least twice, and many times she woke from a fitful doze, expecting to find a lawless band of Touched plundering the store.

Bardo was late coming to breakfast the next morning. Rani's mother clucked her tongue over her hard-working son, shaking her head when Rani's father suggested that Bardo had gone down to the docks to review the most recent shipments of goods. Only when the porridge was reduced to sodden lumps and the tea was cool enough for Rani's childish lips did Bardo return to the house.