The Scofflaw Magician (The Artifactor Book 3) (19 page)

Over dinner
that night, Sevana asked a question that she had been curious about for days
now. “I have two questions for you.”

“Ask,” Aran
encouraged.

“How old are
you?”

This made him
look up, eyes crinkling in a subtle smile. “How old do I look, in your eyes?”

“Eight
hundred,” she said promptly.

Aran choked,
making a strangling sound, then caught the twinkle in her eye and laughed
aloud. “Tease me, will you.”

She waggled a
finger at him. “You know as well as I do that the Fae don’t show their age
until they are very, very old. You can be anywhere between twenty or a thousand
and I wouldn’t be able to tell looking at you.”

“I’m
seventy-three,” he admitted.

Oh? Not as old
as she had assumed him to be. In fact, he was actually older than Master. And
wasn’t that a strange thought. Shaking it off, she went to her second question.
“What does a Fae tracker do?”

Aran paused in
scooping out a leaf wrapped fish from the coals, considering that question,
before continuing to unwrap his dinner. “Anything that involves crossing the
borders of our territory.”

That was a very
vague answer. “Such as?”

“Finding and
bringing back children.”

Sevana blinked,
jaw dropping. “I took your job?”

“In part,” he
agreed, grinning widely. “I didn’t mind that, though, you have an easier time
taking children out of a human city than I do. I have to jump through all sorts
of legal hoops and dish out quite a few bribes before I’m allowed to take a
child out. And most of the time, the children are a little afraid of me even
after I bring them to their new parents.”

Well, granted,
she could see how that would be the case. Even with her, the kids were nervous,
and it was a fellow human that was taking them. How more unnerving would the
experience be if it was a full blooded Fae instead? “So you were glad when I
started doing it?”

“Relieved. You
do a good job of it.” His smile was brief, but warm, as he glanced up at her.
Taking a bite, he chewed and swallowed. “This is good. What did you season this
with?”

“Green tea
salt.”

“I must
remember to get some for the next trip. Well, aside from that, I’m involved in
all of the trading. Anyone that brings things into our territory, or if anyone
is leaving to do trading, I go with them. I am their guide and guard until the
business is concluded and everyone’s home again. Let’s see, what else?” He
paused to think. “If anyone is foolish enough to try and breach our borders, I
take care of that as well.”

A memory
flashed through her mind of trees weaving themselves into sturdy walls,
blocking a Sa Kaon army from advancing. “Like last time? But I didn’t see you.”

“No, I was
nearby watching. I sent Lorien to speak with you as he knew you better.”

Probably wise
on his part. “How do jobs with the Fae work? Do you get assigned from early
childhood and grow into the roles?”

“For the most
part, yes. Because early on, they see what talents and interests we have and
they offer us training in those areas. I was always restless, wanting to go out
and
do
things more than sit and create. So they assigned me to a master
tracker when I was ten. I loved it.”

Sevana
remembered that moment, when she had finally met a master that spoke her
language and she could focus on learning something that she loved doing. It was
wonderful.

Aran’s head
cocked. “Isn’t it the same with humans?”

“If you’re
lucky and find what you want to do early on. Some humans inherit positions in a
family business, some never really find what they’re suited for, and they work
day jobs just to make ends meet. There’s no set system in human lands.”

“But you found
it early on.” His tone indicated this was only half a statement and what he
really wanted to know was how she’d become an Artifactor.

“Well, my magic
isn’t amazingly strong, but I was still showing indications of it at five years
old. So my parents started me off with a magician when I was six but it only
took a week for him to realize my magic wouldn’t be the right sort for his line
of work. So he ran me through a series of tests, found that I had all of the
strengths of an Artifactor, and contacted my master. My parents were delighted
to have me train as an Artifactor instead.” A reminiscent smile creased her
face. “I was too. I got to create things, and learn things, and test myself on
a daily basis. It was like heaven.”

“You’ve told me
all that an Artifactor has to know. You never found it overwhelming as a
child?”

“Only once.”
Sevana leaned back against a log, letting it support her, her eyes going blind
as she stared over the fire. “My friend, Kip, was hit with the Sleeping
Princess curse. In spite of the fact he’s a boy. His parents in a panic called
my master for help, as he was the only magician they knew how to easily reach.
Master said they couldn’t afford him—which was true—so set me to break the
curse.”

Aran seemed
very interested in this story, as his dinner lay cooling in his lap. “How old
were you?”

“Nine.”

Letting out a
low whistle, he said, “That’s too young to place a burden like that on a
child.”

“I thought so
too but was willing to try. It took me a solid week of pounding my head against
the problem, but I finally did come up with a solution, and broke the curse.
He’s been teased about being a Sleeping Princess ever since.” Mostly by her
because Sevana wasn’t about to let him live it down.

“That’s
remark—” Aran cut himself off, head snapping about. He stared hard into the
forest to their right for a long moment before he put his dinner aside
completely and shifted so that he was several feet away from the fire.

Sevana had no
idea what it was that had caught his attention, but she stayed perfectly still
and waited. The Fae could sense things she could not and it would behoove her
to wait until she knew what was going on.

From the
forest, a whole colony of rabbits popped their heads out of the brush. Their
ears swiveled back and forth in a nervous tic, noses twitching. The younger
ones were literally trembling. And yet, in spite of their obvious nervousness,
they didn’t budge when Aran knelt in front of them. His long ears twitched like
theirs did, nose moving, head tilting this way and that, and it was obvious
that he was speaking their language. It was fascinating to watch.

After several
long moments, he rocked back on his heels and turned to her. “They’re requesting
help. There’s a wild boar here that’s lost his senses and he’s killing anything
in his path.”

“Disease-addled,
maybe?” she ventured, brow furrowing. She’d seen it before, when an animal got
a certain sickness, they lost their minds and would destroy anything until
something came along to kill them.

“That would be
my guess. They haven’t gotten too close so aren’t able to give me details. I’m
apparently the only Fae they’ve seen in this area, so they’re asking me to deal
with him.”

The way he said
this, as if it were perfectly normal to receive a request from rabbits, tickled
her sense of humor. At the same time, she felt admiration stir, that he
wouldn’t ignore the request in spite of where it was coming from. Aran was
tired, she knew he was, from traveling around and escorting her for the past
several days, but he was still willing to put his dinner aside and go hunt down
a wild boar. “Can I help?”

The tension in
his face relaxed a hair. “I’d be glad for it.”

Boar hunting
was a dangerous thing, not something a person should tackle alone. Humans
normally gathered hunting parties to go after boars. Sevana couldn’t imagine
that it worked that way with the Fae—the idea that a boar would pose a
significant danger to them was laughable—but it still felt wrong to send him
off into dark, unfamiliar woods to track down a mad boar.

So she set her
own dinner aside, grabbed a wand and her sword, while he took a short sword and
his bow. A regular bow couldn’t penetrate far into a boar’s hide, but a
well-placed arrow could slow it down enough that someone could come in close to
finish the job.

“Shame we don’t
have a spear,” she mentioned to him.

“That would
make this easier,” he agreed. “Ready?”

“I am.”

To the rabbits,
he ducked down enough to say something. They stopped shivering quite so hard
and seemed more perky as they bounded off, disappearing into the brush.
Watching them go, she asked, “This is part of your job as well?”

“I deal with
any dangers that affect the forest as a whole. Of course we let the natural order
of things take precedence, but when a creature goes mad, or some inhabitant of
the forest becomes too greedy and takes what it should not, that’s when I step
in.”

That would
explain why she had never encountered this problem in Noppers Woods.

He stepped into
the woods with her right at his side. Sevana reached into a pocket and pulled
out her multi-purpose glasses. Most of the time, she only used the magnifying
lens on it, but she did have other lenses that she could adjust and use.
Shifting to the right one, she pulled the others higher and set the screw to
hold them in place. Satisfied, she put them on and watched as the world became
a sharper definition of whites, greys, and blacks.

“Those are?” he
asked her with piqued interest.

“Night glasses.
They let me see clearly at night.” Come to think of it, the way he was moving,
it was like it was broad daylight here. “The Fae don’t have a problem with
seeing at night?”

“We do not,” he
confirmed. “Our eyes function like a cat’s. Daylight or nighttime, it makes no
difference to us.”

How terribly
convenient. Sevana also found it highly unfair. Was there anything that the Fae
couldn’t do?

“You’re
jealous?” Aran seemed to find this amusing. “But do you not use your magic to
rival our strengths?”

“Do you know
how many inventions I’ve had to come up with to manage that?” she grumbled,
still annoyed.

“It’s a
remarkable feat that you’ve managed it at all. Sellion.”

The use of her
Fae name reminded her just what her new status was among them. True, she might
not naturally have all of the strengths and abilities that the Fae did, but they
acknowledged her in spite of that. It was more than a compliment. It was an
honor to be so recognized.

Aran stopped
and lifted his head, taking in a deep breath through his nose, eyes
half-closing as he seemed to focus. “I smell blood.”

Sevana didn’t
smell a thing but moist earth, wood, and moving water from the brook nearby.
“How strong?”

“We’re some
distance from it. It’s blood spilled but also blood gone bad.” His head
swiveled to a more south-easterly direction. “I think we’re not far from him.”

That was good
and bad all at once. If they weren’t far, then they wouldn’t be able to
surprise the boar in any way and he probably had their scent already. But at
least they wouldn’t be stumbling around in the woods all night trying to track
him down.

Aran took
another, deeper breath and when he let it out, he sounded disappointed and
resigned. “I had a small hope that perhaps his sickness was not so deep that I
couldn’t heal him. But the way his blood smells tells me he’s too far gone.”

Was his nose
like a dog’s? Sevana had seen dogs with noses so sensitive that they could
detect illnesses. Well, his eyes were like a cat’s, so maybe that wasn’t too
far of a stretch. “You can heal sicknesses like this?”

“Sometimes. It
depends on how much damage has been done to the body. I’m not a healer, after
all, I just know some of the basics.”

Interesting.
Sevana made note of that for future reference.

With a ‘follow
me’ gesture, Aran moved forward, this time making special effort to not make
noise as he walked. She assumed he was, anyway, since he suddenly became silent
as he moved. They moved in between the trees like a pair of ghosts. Baby had
taught her as a teenager how to walk silently, and while she couldn’t quite
manage it on the same level as a mountain lion (or a Fae) she wasn’t bumbling
around either.

At one point,
Aran paused, holding a hand to indicate she needed to do the same. Without a
word, he pointed to their left, near a small gathering of fallen logs, then
made a circular motion with his finger. So, he was behind them? Sevana didn’t
have a nose like a dog’s, so she couldn’t be sure, but she thought she detected
the metallic, rusty smell of blood in the air.

Drawing her
wand, she held it at the ready, a spell poised on the tip of her tongue.

Seeing she was
on the defensive, Aran eased forward once more, hand reaching for an arrow at
his belt quiver. Nocking it, he half-drew the bow, holding it steady.

There was a
grunting sound, guttural and low, and what might have been the scrape of a hoof
against wood. The sound was too distinct for Sevana to think it was her
imagination and she knew that the boar had detected their presence and would
either run or charge. Holding her breath, she planted her feet, waiting to see
which it would be.