The Child Prince (The Artifactor)

Published by Raconteur House

Manchester, TN

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

THE CHILD PRINCE: BOOK ONE OF THE ARTIFACTOR

A Raconteur House book/ published by arrangement with the author

PRINTING HISTORY

Raconteur House mass-market edition/December 2013

Raconteur House ebook edition/December 2013

Copyright © 2013 by Honor Raconteur

Cover Illustration by Honor Raconteur

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

Purchase only authorized editions.

For information address:

Raconteur House

164 Whispering Winds Dr.

Manchester, TN, 37355

If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

www.raconteurhouse.com

Other books by Honor Raconteur

Published by Raconteur House

THE ADVENT MAGE CYCLE

Book One:
Jaunten

Book Two:
Magus

Book Three:
Advent

Book Four:
Balancer

Advent Mage Compendium

The Dragon’s Mage

Special Forces 01

The Midnight Quest

Kingslayer

THE ARTIFACTOR SERIES

The Child Prince

It takes courage to lead a life.

Any life.

Careful, now…she must be very careful. Just one drop of the captured sunlight on the rock salt would set off quite the explosion. Sevana held her breath as she leaned carefully over her work table, holding her arm steady with her other hand, muscles tense. Just a few more inches and she’d be able to insert the captured sunlight liquid into the mixture. But just a drop, just
one
—

Knock knock. Knockknockknock.

The sudden noise in the absolute stillness of her workroom sounded like a war drum going off. She started, the vial in her hand twitching at just the wrong moment, and a drop landed…exactly where it should not have. Sevana had just enough time to dive for the floor before the liquid dissolved into the salt and set off a spectacular explosion that set fire to everything within reach.

I can’t lay on the floor
, she realized in panic and rolled back to her feet. If that fire reached certain areas of the room—areas that held volatile and flammable things—then the whole room would go up like a volcanic eruption.

Sevana scrambled towards the first tool that she could reach. It wasn’t a water or fire-reducing wand as she wanted, but a
stasis crystal. Close enough to do the job. She snatched it off the table and quickly commanded, “Xold ne fole!”

Everything in the room, including the flames that had been licking their way across her worktable, froze. Breathing hard, she looked around to see what damage had been done. The bookshelves lining either end of the room hadn’t been touched, so her reference books were safe. (This was a fortunate thing for whoever it was knocking on her door. It meant they could live to see tomorrow.)

But the
rest
of the room…
aish
. Her long wooden worktable was scorched all along one end. She’d likely have to replace the whole thing. Everything on top of it was melted. Not one flask, wand, or ingredient was still usable. The stone grinders were questionable, covered in soot as they were. Even the workbench along the back wall was a little scorched along the edges.

She couldn’t claim to be in better shape, either. Despite having dove to the floor, some of the flames had still reached her. She could taste soot in her mouth, so her face likely had smears of it. The back of her hands certainly did. When she looked down at herself, she noted in disapproval that her white shirt looked grey, and the buckskin pants she wore were streaked with black. For that matter…she sniffed the air around her. Could that be…? Yes, it was. The smell of melted hair. Even her hair had been burned?!

Knockknockknockknockknock
thud
.

I take it back. Whoever that is has to die
. Sevana released the crystal, letting it hover in mid-air, and spun for the door. Big must have sensed her mood as he rearranged the tunnels for her with a low, grating noise so that she had direct access to the main door. Whoever had come knocking (aside from having a short life expectancy) must have been a friend to get
this
far without Big stopping them.

Friend or foe, it didn’t matter. They still needed to be killed.

She reached the door, grabbed the wooden latch, and yanked it open. Her visitor held his hand raised, as if poised to knock again. At the murderous look on her face, he cautiously backed up a pace, eyes taking her in from head to toe. “Ah…did I catch you at a bad time, Sev?”

“Kip,” she snarled, not even surprised. Only
he
would have this kind of atrocious timing. “You barmy git! Whatever brought you to my door just became a life or death situation.”

Her childhood friend held up both hands in a pleading gesture. “Wait, Sev, this is actually important. Errr…what happened to you?”

“
You
happened,” she snapped, planting her feet. “I was in the middle of a very delicate experiment—”

“Really? Then why did Big let me through?”

She turned her eyes to the nearest section of rock. Big, as a mountain, couldn’t flinch or look guilty. But the condensation on the rocks looked like beads of nervous sweat to her. “A point I will take up with him later.
At great length.
”

From the depths of the tunnels behind her, a soft breeze ran through, ruffling her scorched hair. With the feel of the wind came a soft word, said on a sigh,
Sorry.

Ignoring her giant sentinel, she turned her eyes back to Kip. Her temper rose a notch seeing
that
particular smile on his face. Ever since they were toddlers, he had always been a beautiful child, and at the age of twenty, he had become a very handsome man with the thick, wavy black hair that women envied, crystal blue eyes, and a tall, lean build to him. He had used his charm and
that
particular smile to get out of every troublesome moment in his life. The only person it failed to ever work on was her. Which he very well knew, so why he decided to try it, she had no idea.

He turned his smile up another notch. “Really, Sev, it’s serious. But it’s also something that you’ve asked me to find for you.”

Over the years, Kip had developed the troublesome habit of bringing her work to do. No matter how many times she told him that she didn’t want to be bothered, or that she had no interest in helping people, he
still
showed up with work. If not for the fact that childhood friends were rather difficult to replace, she would have strangled him and buried his body in the woods years ago.

Well, that and the fact that his mother would no doubt make her bring him back from the dead. Again.

But this didn’t seem to be the usual work. He typically started out with how this or that person truly needed help, no one else could do it, yadda yadda. She couldn’t remember asking him for anything specific, but this serious expression he wore indicated that she should at least hear him out. So she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You’ve got fifteen seconds.”

“You know that the Child Prince was hit by an age reducing spell about ten years ago?”

She nodded impatiently. “And they’ve never been able to reverse the spell, so he’s eternally a child. What about it?”

“Only yesterday you complained to me that you’re bored and that your job has become repetitious.” He leaned in slightly, eyes crinkling up at the corners. “Think about it, Sev. Our prince has had hundreds of magicians of every sort come and examine him. Five years ago, they gave up all hope and proclaimed his curse as ‘unbreakable.’ Wouldn’t that make this the ultimate challenge?”

She had to admit, that truly did sound like one. Sevana adored pitting her wits against someone else’s and curse-breaking was the ultimate form of that. But she had to wonder about the timing of this. “If it’s been five years since he’s been locked away as a lost cause, why are you just now bringing this interesting challenge to me?”

Kip’s smile froze for a second. “Ah, well…”

“What, you didn’t think I’d notice that?” she asked acidly.

He scrubbed at the back of his head, blew out a breath, and shrugged in resignation. “Alright, here’s truth. The Council passed a law this morning that…troubles me. On the surface, it gives them the right to manage the government in the absence of the royal family. But really, we’re already in that state. The prince is unable to rule, the king is basically always absent from court as no one’s seen him rule or decree anything since the prince was cursed, and there’s no one else to step forward to rule. Windamere is in the deplorable state it’s in because of the Council. If they give themselves tacit permission to rule, where does that leave us?”