The Elemental Jewels (Book 1) (25 page)

“Come in,” Brieed said in a conversational tone.

Eli opened the door.

“How long has he been your apprentice?” Grange suddenly asked Brieed, still suspicious that the man with the red irises in the center of his eyes was really the red jewel that no longer was embedded in his arm.

“Eli?” Brieed asked in surprise.  “Probably eleven years or more.”

“You’re sure this is him?” Grange asked.

“Did you call me to take this person to the asylum?” Eli asked the wizard in an exasperated voice.

“Whatever your concerns are, I assure this is my apprentice Eli.  Now follow him to your new room,” Brieed told Grange.

With a sigh, Grange stood up and hobbled over to the doorway.  His leg was starting to feel stiff after sitting.

“Oh, one last thing,” Brieed called.  Grange turned, and the old man raised his blue-tinged sword, the one endowed with the power to kill demons, and he tossed it through the air towards Grange, who caught it by the haft, then grinned at the wizard, delighted to repossess the weapon.

There was an unexpected glint of light, and Grange saw that the missing blue jewel was now firmly embedded in the very end of the handle.  The weapon felt lighter than before, easier to swing and manipulate, he decided, as he experimentally sliced it through the air.

“What’s he got a thing like that for?” Eli asked skeptically.  “Aren’t you afraid he’ll try to kill us all in our sleep?”

“He’s more likely to save us than kill us,” Brieed said.  “Now take him away, and return to your studies.”

Eli closed the door.  “My room’s down that way,” he pointed to the right.  “We’ll find a room for you down this way,” he nodded to the left, and started walking in that direction.

They walked to the very end of the hall.

“This is the room for you,” Eli said.  He pushed the handle on the last door on the left, and opened it to reveal a spacious room that was in the corner of the wing of the palace, with windows on two walls.  There was a half wall divider within, and as he walked in, Grange saw that a low mattress was on the far side of the half wall, with a modicum of privacy provided by the low structure.  He walked to the windows and looked out at the landscape beyond the end of the wing, where he saw a paved yard, and the entry to a set of stables.

“This’ll be fine,” Grange decided after seconds of examination.

“I wasn’t giving you a choice,” Eli said.  “Now stay here and enjoy it,” the older apprentice commanded, then turned and left the room.

Grange stood in the middle of his austere room.   The sunlight was streaming in through the windows on the side wall giving the room warmth.  There were no curtains, nor anything hanging as decorations on the walls, and the furniture was sparse and simple.  He went to the bed, where he laid his sword down on the floor then lowered himself onto the mattress, with a sigh of relief.

Somehow he had crossed an unexpected border, and gone from his life that now looked idyllic in hindsight, living with Ariana, practicing skills and playing music, to now being caught within the apprenticeship of a palace wizard.   There would undoubtedly be wonderful things he would learn, but he wouldn’t be in command of his own life, he was sure.

And to think that Eli had already spent eleven years as an apprentice!  Grange felt certain that he was going to die as an elderly apprentice in the Palmland palace.

“Can you help me become free?” he asked the jewels softly.

There was no response.

“Ariana, can you talk to me?” he asked tremulously.

The jewels were silent.

Grange gave a sigh, then felt his eyes moisten at the thought of his abandonment by the jewel he had spent so much intimate time with.

You are in a safe place.  Open your mind and your heart and your soul, and learn these lessons, unsettling though they prove to be,
Ariana’s voice spoke. 
You need this – it is part of the plan
.

He felt better.  At least the jewel who had once been a lovely girl had spoken to him.

He closed his eyes and rested, as the room grew warmer from the northern sunlight streaming steadily into his room, and he dozed into and out of sleep throughout the late morning and into the midday.

There was a knock at the door, and a young boy entered immediately.  Grange raised his head to look over the half wall, and the boy shouted in surprise.

“I did not know anyone was in here, my lord,” the boy said.

“Then why are you here?” Grange asked.

“To tell the housekeeper if anything is needed,” the servant replied.

“Yes, I need curtains, heavy curtains, to keep the sunlight out,” Grange replied.  “And some pillows and sheets for the bed.”

“Are you going to stay here?” the boy asked in surprise.

“Yes; why else would I want the pillows and sheets?” Grange asked.

“Oh, I don’t think people like this room,” the boy shook his head.

“What’s wrong with it?  Does the sunlight make it too warm?” Grange asked the obvious.

“It’s the noises,” the boy said dismissively.  “You’ll just have to see what you think.”  He closed the door and left.

Grange lay back down, and wondered at the statement.  What kinds of noises could occur in the room, he wondered.  He rose from his bed and walked stiffly to the windows, looking for any clue to possible sources of sounds, but saw nothing more that promised any answers or problems.  He did smell the faint aroma of food cooking somewhere, a smell that instantly aroused his appetite.

He didn’t want to climb down all the stairs to look for food, but he couldn’t think of any other option, so he grabbed his flute on impulse, and put it in the pocket of his hospital robe, then started slowly moving down the hallway to the stairs.  He opened the heavy doors easily with the handle that existed on the inside, wondering how easy it would be to open them again when he returned.

Each step was a long moment of activity by itself, as Grange lowered his good leg, then swung his injured leg around.  The descent down the stairs took a handful of minutes, but then he was on the ground floor, and out the door.  He took a deep breath, feeling somehow as though it was a breath of free air after serving a sentence in jail, though he’d only been in the wizard’s lair for a few hours.

He hobbled slowly around, drawing stares as he walked in his white hospital robe, while he ignored the stares and followed the scent of food.  He came to a building behind the stables he had seen from his room, and found a small knot of guards and stable workers all eating skewers of meat and vegetables being grilled over a small brazier by a pair of elderly women, who twirled and flipped the food with practiced ease and speed.

A few of the men looked up as Grange arrived, but most ignored him as they sat and ate their meals, swigging stone bottles that Grange guessed was ale or hard cider – perhaps even cider from some of the very apples he had picked, he thought to himself with a small grin.

“I don’t have any money,” he told the ladies when he reached the edge of the brazier.  “Can I promise to come back and pay you some time?”

“Where are you from?  Don’t you have any clothes?” one of the women asked.

“I just got out of the wizard’s quarters,” Grange replied.  “I don’t have any clothes yet.  Just this robe and my flute,” he gave a small smile.  “And my sword back in my room.”

“You’ve been in the wizard’s rooms, and you’ve come out?” one of the guards asked.

“No one comes from his quarters except him,” a stableman said.

“That redheaded girl came out a few times, when she was new,” a guard reminded his companions.

“Yeah, until Cale broke her heart,” someone else laughed, and slapped one of the men on the shoulder.

“Lucky she didn’t turn you into a head of cabbage,” someone else chimed in.

“Or a turd of horse manure,” Grace’s voice spoke in an icy tone from behind the group, making all conversations and jokes cease.

“Grange, come with me.  We have work to do,” she said.

“But I’m hungry,” he protested.

The cook held a skewer towards him, then silently nodded her head towards Grace.

“Thank you,” Grange said softly.  He took the wooden stick with the food, and carefully maneuvered towards Grace’s location.

“Here, let me support you, my love,” the girl told him in a surprisingly kind tone.  She took the skewer from his hand and draped his arm over her own shoulder, as she wrapped an arm around his waist, then returned the skewer to him.  They began to walk away, as Grange took a quick first bite of the food he had been given; it tasted wonderful, savory and moist and tender.

The pair rounded a corner to leave the line of sight of the small meal, and as soon as they did, Grace unwrapped herself from Grange.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed.  “I ought to make a ring of flames burn your feet for this stunt.”

“I was hungry,” Grange said simply.

“I was hungry; I was hungry,” the redheaded girl mocked him.  “We’ll feed you when we’re ready.  Now let’s get back to our building.

“We’re going to miss eating with Master Brieed as it is, because of your hunger,” she chastised him.

“Where will we eat then?” Grange asked.  “And why were you so nice back there?  And why did we kiss this afternoon?  Who are you trying to trick?”

Grace paused.  “Why are you so full of questions?  You’re new here.  We’ll tell you what you need to know,” she said emphatically.

“We’ll go to the palace kitchen to get something to eat,” she decided.  She stopped abruptly, then switched the direction she was heading.

“No,” she stopped again.  “First, we’re going to put you in some reasonable clothes, so you don’t look like an idiot, walking around in that robe.”  She began walking in the opposite direction she had begun, Grange trailing behind her, trying to keep up despite the injury to his leg.  They reached a small set of store fronts inside the palace grounds; wide doors that opened upward to expose the entire width of the shops behind each door.  All were closed already, but Grace walked up to one and began to pound loudly on the door.

“Hakim, open up,” she said as she paused in her pounding.  There was no response, leading Grace to reach into the front of her gown again, and pull out her wand.  She bit her lip in concentration, then pointed at the ground level latch, and began to mutter soft words.  A flash of light shot from the tip of her wand and struck the bottom of the door.

Satisfied, she placed her wand back in its hiding place.  “Lift the door,” she said to Grange.

“I’ve only got one good arm!” he protested.

“Try at least, before you make excuses,” Grace said in an exasperated tone.

Grange squatted down, then tried lifting the wooden door, but his injured shoulder prevented him from making much progress until Grace snorted and bent down to assist him.  The door swung up and out, and the pair of them saw a young man standing in the shop behind the door, blinking at the sudden flood of light.

“Why didn’t you answer, Hakim?” Grace demanded.

The man inside was perhaps a boy, perhaps a young man.  He studied Grace coolly for a moment, but Grange sensed that there was also a whiff of feeling intimidated in his pose.  His eyes shifted to Grange for a moment of silent study, then moved back to Grace.

“I’ve just closed for the evening,” he said.

“We need some clothes for my friend,” Grace said.  “What do you have?  Just something simple for a day or two – I’ll put in on the wizard’s bill,” she said, with a slight emphasis on the word ‘wizard’.

“This’ll be quick, if you do it right,” Grace added.

Hakim’s eyes narrowed momentarily.  “Here,” he walked over to a wall of folded clothing items, and studied Grange.  “Try these,” he pulled a pair of blue pants from a cubby, one of an innumerable collection of storage spaces that covered the wall, “and try this,” he added, as he pulled a gray cotton shirt from another cubby, and tossed both items to Grange.

Grange studied the bundles, then immediately threw the shirt back.  “I have to have long sleeves,” he said.

“Afraid your arms will look too skinny and weak?” Hakim sneered.  He looked at the wall, then pulled down a green shirt.  “There, that’s your clothing, now let me close up and go; I’ve got dinner plans with a wonderful girl tonight,” he was clearly trying to goad Grace, Grange could see, though Grange had no idea about the root of the pair’s hostility.  He could see that the girl had apparently managed to establish antagonistic relationships with a number of people.

“Thank you,” he said immediately.  “We’ll take these and go, won’t we Grace?” he asked the apprentice wizard.

“We will not go until I say so!” she whirled to face him, her eyes flashing with emotion.  She pulled her wand free and pointed it at him.

Grange took a step back, away from the girl, and held his hand up in protest.

“Let’s not get excited,” he said.

As soon as the words left his mouth, a spark of bright energy flew from his palm and struck the wand, blasting it free from Grace’s grip.  It twirled upwards in the air, then fell to the floor, bouncing and rolling before it came to rest. Grange was astonished – it was an act by the jewels without a doubt, one that he didn’t think was necessary.