The Magician’s Apprentice

Dakon chuckled. Sabin turned to address the magicians, explaining how they were going to organise themselves in order to take power from the crowd. Dakon sobered. They were going to have to work fast, before doubt or impatience dulled the people’s enthusiasm.

And we have no idea how long we have before the Sachakans arrive to finish us off.

The idea of taking power from hundreds of ordinary men and women had discomforted Jayan so much at first, that he had to force himself through every step of the somewhat simplified ritual. The volunteers were nervous at first, but once those behind the first man saw how easy it was, and how he shrugged and grinned as he walked off, they relaxed and began chatting among themselves.

The magicians had spread into a wide line. The crowd hovered, someone stepping forward to face a magician as soon as the previous volunteer moved away. Almost all those who approached Jayan voiced encouragement, urging him to “give the Sachakans some of their own treatment” or “wipe out the lot of them’.

He nodded each time, assuring them he’d do everything he could. He also thanked them. Time passed in a seemingly endless stream of support, reassurance, and taking of strength. Simmering beneath the civility was a sense of urgency. A tension that would have had him looking over his shoulder constantly, if he could have seen outside the city.

The king moved up and down the lines, thanking people and giving encouragement. Jayan saw the families of magicians come to greet them and express their relief that they were alive. He also saw the grief of those who came only to learn that their loved ones had perished. His own father and brother did not appear. He would have been astonished if they had.

As the day wore on a weariness stole over him, and he stopped worrying or pausing to watch these emotional encounters, and fixed his attention on the task of taking power. Face after face appeared and disappeared. He no longer noticed if the arms stretched towards him in offering were dirty or clean, clothed in rags or decked in fine cloth. But then a particular pair of very thin arms made him pause and look twice at the volunteer before him.

A boy no more than nine years old stared back at him. Behind the boy, the volunteers had thinned to a few people, so that he could see through them to where a crowd now lingered around the edges of the square, watching and waiting for the final battle to begin. The dim light of dusk shrouded all. The day had passed. What power the people could offer was nearly all taken. He was thirsty. Mikken had brought him food and water earlier, but the apprentice was no longer near.

Looking at the boy, he shook his head. “You have courage, young one,” he said, smiling. “But we don’t take power from children.”

The boy’s shoulders drooped. He gave a deep, comical sigh. Then he reached into a pocket and thrust his hand at Jayan.

What is this? Is he trying to give me money? Or something else? Something dirty... Pushing aside doubts, Jayan opened his palm. The boy dropped something small and dark into it. He smiled.

“Give you luck.” Then he turned and darted away.

Jayan looked at the object. It was an unglazed square of pottery, chipped at one corner. A hole in the top had been made for a loop of leather or rope, and into the surface had been carved lines to form a stylised insect that he recognised from one of Dakon’s books.

An inava, he thought. I wonder if he knew inavas are found in northern parts of Sachaka? Probably not.

Pocketing it, he looked up and realised that the reason nobody had stepped forward to take the place of the child was that the crowd was now gone. Magicians were striding about, or gathering in groups. Looking around, he located Dakon and Tessia, and began walking towards them, but before he reached them the magician turned and hurried away. Tessia saw him and beckoned.

“The Sachakans have been seen from the palace towers,” she told him. “They’ll be here in an hour or so.” She frowned. “Do you think we’re strong enough to defeat them this time?”

Jayan nodded. “Even if they managed to hunt down all the servants, and people from the villages, that’s only a few hundred people. We’ve just taken the strength of thousands.”

“The healers arrived an hour ago. They said the servants split up and headed in different directions so it would take a lot of time for the Sachakans to track them all down. The healers had their own horses, of course, so they rode straight here.”

He could hear the disgust in her voice.

“It’s unlikely anyone the Sachakans found would need healing,” he pointed out.

“Yes, but there were sick people the healers were tending. I’d have waited until the Sachakans had moved on towards Imardin, then gone back to see if my patients had survived.” Then she flashed a wry smile. “But I have to admit to being selfishly glad to see Kendaria again.”

He smiled. “I expect the two of you will go around trying to heal people tonight. Safely inside the city, I hope.”

Tessia pulled a face at him, then her frown returned. “While you’ll fight the Sachakans for the first time.”

He felt a flash of fear, but pushed it aside. The strength of thousands, he reminded himself. We can’t lose. “At least this time I have something to contribute.”

“You will be careful, won’t you?”

She was staring at him so intently, and the concern in her voice had been so obvious, he found he could not meet her eyes. I can’t hope that this is more than the concern of a friend, he told himself. It is still good that someone cares if I live or die, though, he found himself thinking. I doubt my father and brother do. “Of course,” he told her. “I haven’t spent nearly a decade studying and itching to be independent only to die just after becoming a higher magician.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Good. Just making sure the sudden independence and recent taste of leadership hasn’t gone to your head and given you more silly ideas.”

He looked up at her. “More silly ideas? What—?”

“I’ll be watching you,” she warned him. “Though . . . where do you think the battle will take place? In the city?”

“No,” he replied. Does she mean my guild of magicians idea? “That would put the people in danger, from both our magic and the enemy’s, and rubble from any houses that are struck. We’ll go outside to meet them. What do you mean, sil—?”

“Where do you think the best place to watch would be?”

He felt a pang of concern. She should stay out of sight – out of any danger. But he doubted she would, so he had better think of a safe place to suggest. “Somewhere elevated, so the closer to the palace the better. Avoid houses. You don’t want to be inside a house if a bit of stray magic comes your way.”

“But magic could come my way anyway.”

“If your feet are on the ground, all you’ll need to do is shield. If you’re in a collapsing house you have a bit more to deal with.”

“Ah.” She grinned. “I see what you mean.”

His heart seemed to shiver within his chest. I don’t think I could endure it if she died... He pushed the thought away. “So what did you mean by—?”

A gong rang out, drowning out his words. Tessia turned away. Sighing, Jayan followed her gaze to the cart in the centre of the square. The king had returned and was climbing up onto it. Sabin followed, holding a large striker. A large golden gong hanging within a frame had been placed beside the cart, probably wheeled down from the palace.

Magicians and apprentices shuffled closer. Dakon appeared with Narvelan and the other leaders. Seeing Jayan and Tessia, he beckoned. Together, they wove through the crowd to his side where, curiously, they found Mikken. The young man grimaced apologetically at Jayan.

“Sorry for disappearing. They recruited me as a messenger,” he murmured.

Dakon leaned closer. “There are more Sachakans,” he told Jayan. “They appeared in the south a few days ago and made their way here.”

Jayan felt his heart sink.

“How many?” he asked.