Glasswrights' Apprentice Read online

  The boy scuffed dirt in the general direction of Rani’s feet, close enough for the apprentice to ball up her fists in angry response, but far enough away that she need not fight to retain her honor. “No un ’ad t’ teach me. ’R ye, fer that matter.”

  Mair’s voice was tinted with a deadly warning. “An’ ’oo’s t’ say we canna do more fer our newest recruits?”

  “And who’s to say I’ll do whatever you’re asking me to do?” Rani interjected. “Why do you want me?”

  Mair turned to stare at her, dark eyes glinting in the wan light of a new day. “Don’t ye worry about that, Rai. We want ye.” The leader of the troop snapped her fingers and held out one commanding hand. A young child slid forward, lugging a half-filled wine skin. Mair took the leather and turned to face the children under her command. “I propose that Rai join us, as a full member o’ th’ troop. Any o’ ye want t’ challenge me?”

  Rabe squirmed and tried to dig his toe into the cobblestones, but he did not speak out against Mair’s impetuous act. The leader waited a full minute for rebellion to bloom before she turned to Rani. “’N’ ye Rai, do ye want t’ stand by us, instead o’ agin us? Do ye want t’ be recognized as one o’ th’ Touched in Shanoranvilli’s City?”

  For just an instant, Rani hesitated. She was proud of her merchant’s breeding, mindful of the glory of her caste in a City where all was measured by birthright.

  Nevertheless, she had sold that birthright once, electing to become a glasswright, for something as intangible as an artist’s blossoming sensibilities. Now, she was offered far greater riches - companionship, food, allies against enemies still unknown. “Aye,” she managed the one syllable. Rabe snorted his disgust, but Mair stared him down.

  “Fine then, Rai. Take this,” the leader hefted the wineskin toward Rani, who flinched under the unexpected weight, “’n’ answer this. Do ye, Rai, swear t’ join yer brothers ’n’ sisters among th’ Touched, t’ stand wi’ them agin all injustice, ’n’ right all wrongs i’ th’ City?”

  Rani’s eyes had grown huge and solemn, but she nodded her agreement. At a twisted smile from Mair, she managed to choke out the words, “I do.”

  “Then drink wi’ yer brothers ’n’ sisters, ’n’ be one o’ us.” Rani hefted the awkward leather sack to her lips and sipped at a liquid she quickly realized was more powerful than wine.

  Even as the heady whiskey startled Rani’s tongue, Mair leaned forward, pumping the supple leather with a vicious squeeze. Rani spluttered as the alcohol burned down to her lungs, and her choking brought tears to her eyes. When she could breathe again, she turned an accusing gaze on her mentor. “Why did you do that?”

  “If ye plan t’ live as one o’ th’ Touched, ye’ll do nothin’ by ’alf measures. Ye wouldna want t’ starve ’cause ye dinna eat all yer cakes, would ye?” Rani shook her head, still dazed by the fiery beast that clawed its way to her belly. “Good. Now, there’s only one other thing, if ye’re goin’ t’ be one o’ us.” Mair cast a meaningful eye toward the pouch at Rani’s waist.

  Suspicion creased Rani’s brow. Had that been Mair’s plan all along - to get Rani drunk and then steal her meager possessions? Rani covered her pitiful sack of treasures with a mistrusting hand.

  “Exactly!” Mair chortled. “Ye know what we’re goin’ t’ ask before we do it! Ye’re meant t’ be one o’ us, ’n’ that’s fer sure!”

  “What do you want from me?” Rani’s panicked question was slurred from fear and the tightening clutch of whiskey, and her careful words sounded more like Mair’s patois than the fine speech of a merchant child in the King’s City.

  “A pledge o’ faith t’ yer new people.”

  “What?”

  “Nothin’ ye couldna been forced t’ give us weeks ago.” Mair stared at her steadily, waiting for Rani to measure out the demand. The apprentice felt the other children’s eyes crawl like worms across her skin, and she reached into her sack, her fingers moving over her treasures as if taking inventory, verifying that the Touched had not somehow pilfered her meager riches while she was unaware.

  The Zarithian knife, gift from her father.

  The rag doll, gift from her mother.

  The smooth circle of cobalt glass, found at the guild.

  And the silver mirror, birth-gift from the merchants’ Council, embossed with its fierce lion pulling down a goat.

  As Rani touched the last of her possessions, she knew that the precious silver was already lost to her. Even beneath her fingers, the metal shrank away, predator and prey cringing from her attention. “Brave as a lion; fleet as a lion,” she muttered as she pulled out the delicately wrought treasure. The mirror was her sole remaining link to a merchant’s life; it was the first item she would have sold had she lived out a normal life in her caste, had she stepped up to finance her very own merchant stall.

  The polished metal glinted wanly in the daylight, and Rani felt the hunting lion and its hapless prey brand her palm. Even as Rabe darted out a grubby hand for the prize, Rani pulled it back from the greedy boy, unable to part with her final link to the world she had once known, the easy past she had been born into.

  Rabe scoffed as Mair prodded, “What’s yer problem, Rai? Is th’ price too ’igh? Do we ask too much t’ bring ye into our family? T’ ’old you as one o’ ours no matter ’oo is askin’ after ye, or fer what?”

  Rani’s head whirled, and she wished she had taken no part of the whiskey. Certainly Mair’s words made sense. Rani’s entry into the calamitous glasswrights’ guild had cost her parents far more than a silver mirror. Nevertheless, Rani’s bonds to her family, to her heritage, were tied to the silver disk like silken cords. She managed to mutter, “I can’t give it to you. It was a gift to me, from the Merchants’ Council.”

  “Fro’ th’ Council!” Mair crowed. “Th’ Council, great Rai! Why ye’re the girl ’oo came from nowhere! Now ye claim t’ ’ave a gift from Borin ’imself!”

  “I was a merchant the day I was born! The Council gave me this mirror so I could start my own stall!” Rani answered hotly, the words bubbling past the knot of reason and restraint that had come all undone in its whiskey bath.

  “’N’ now we’re afraid!” Mair exclaimed. “We’re all tremblin’ i’ our boots.” As if to underscore the scorn in their leader’s voice, the Touched children huddled closer to Rani, craning their necks for a glimpse of the silver caste birthright. An excited hum infected even the littlest ones. “’N’ don’t go thinkin’ ye can grab fer yer knife,” Mair warned. “We’d stop ye before it cleared th’ bag.”

  As much as Rani longed for the simple life she’d left behind forever, she had not gone entirely soft in the head. Even as her breath came fast, she knew she would not fight this Touched band. She had no desire to bleed out the last of her life in a dilapidated alleyway in some unknown quarter of the City. Instead, she swallowed the bitter mixture of pride dissolved in hatred. Mair and the Touched had stood with her throughout the past weeks of tumult.

  Without realizing she’d made a decision, Rani held out the mirror, turning it about so that the children could see the raised lion. “I’ll not lift my knife against you. I meant my oath when I swore my faith to the Touched.”

  Mair waited for a long minute, spinning the tension into palpable yarn. When the older girl took the mirror, Rani felt a cord sever in her chest, a bond to the family and caste and life she had always thought of as her own, even when she had been in exile at the guild. Mair hid away the treasure, apparently unaware of the mirror’s true value.

  Fighting back a prickle of tears, Rani took the only action she could think of.

  Raising her right hand to her lips, she spat into her palm. When she extended the whisky-scented mess toward Mair, the leader of the Touched looked surprised, as if she could not remember thus binding Rani to silence in the marketplace, not so many nights ago. Then, with the other Touched children looking on, Mair spat into her own palm and clasped Rani’s tightly. The two girls eyed each other
steadily, holding their pose until many of the other children shifted restlessly.

  “Fine, Rai. Welcome t’ yer life among th’ Touched.”

  Rani ignored the swoop of relief at Mair’s words. Perhaps her trade had been well-made. Hitching at her belt, she managed to add a swagger to her step as she turned around to survey the ramshackle quarters. “I don’t expect we’re going to find any breakfast here, are we?” Mair laughed, and the horde soon made its way back to the safer sections of Shanoranvilli’s City.

  In fact, the troop of children made its way to the Nobles’ Quarter. Rani had never explored those streets; she had only traveled there once, with her father, when he was delivering a well-worked set of bowls to some high-caste family. Now, she saw how the nobles’ houses were better faced than any she had seen before. Music drifted from many balconies, a delicate strum of lutes, and tremulous female voices twined through the air like fragile roses on a trellis.

  Soldiers stood in front of many houses, their broad chests covered with their employers’ livery. Rani could breathe in the scent of autumn flowers - rich blossoms that were carefully tended in lush gardens, sheltered by stone walls. The nobles’ lives were so different that Rani might have been in another land, on a world as distant as the moon.

  The Touched children ignored the wonders of this new setting, spending their considerable energy on darting unseen from doorway to doorway. Rani was quickly led off the main streets into the quiet alleys that spread like blood vessels behind the nobles’ villas. Each estate had a passage behind it, and Rani marveled at the extravagance of a life well-lived. In one alley, they found a keg of ale, half stove in, but with several inches of good beer left in the bottom. In another, a flock of starlings chittered over the heels of a dozen loaves of bread. The birds proved no match for the children; they were driven off by Rabe’s energetic suggestion that the Touched feast on starling pie.

  All the time, Mair led the troop, looking around blind corners to make sure a soldierly protector was not unfortunately stationed. She issued final decisions on all items that bore a noble coat-of-arms. Always, she balanced safety against treasure, protection against wealth. More than once, Mair informed her company that they had to leave behind a cloak or a tunic or - in one surprising instance - a sluggish hound puppy, for each was clearly branded by its noble owner, and each might be begrudged in the long run, might be missed if found on a Touched child, even if those treasures had been discarded like so much trash.

  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 n
ote 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.”