An Apprentice Without Magic, page 13
part #2 of Magic Missing Series
His brother woke up. “Potter’s farewell,” he said. Tru groaned when he spotted the destroyed forge. “I guess it doesn’t pay to get into an argument on your way out.”
Sam helped him up, and they both made it into the house. Emmy barked a few times, running around them, but she calmed down once Tru collapsed on their couch.
“You gave as good as you got?” Sam asked.
Tru shook his head. “I doubt it.” He began to inventory his wounds. “Maybe I did. This isn’t my blood is it?” He pointed to a few splotches on his clothes.
Sam shook his head. “Nope. It’s never good when they beat you senseless. I don’t think any bones were broken.”
Tru shook his head. “Bruises though, probably a lot of them. Should I sic the constabulary on them?”
“I wouldn’t,” Sam said. “It will be your word against theirs. Potter is a lifelong Baskin citizen. You are an outsider.” Sam had deduced that much without being told by anyone in the constabulary.
“I’ll get even by being successful,” Tru said. “I already am as far as salary.”
“What about the forge? Can you duplicate it?”
Tru managed a smile. “Antina wants one in the back of her shop. There is a gravel yard. It is better than our garden. I think I can use most of what Potter’s people destroyed. Making a forge isn’t that difficult, you know.”
“Maybe I can help,” Sam said.
“You work on your project. I’ll ask Antina for some assistance. It would be better to have someone with some pollen magic to assist in the construction.”
Sam was used to the rejection. “Then maybe I can stack the bricks for easier transportation.”
Tru smiled and then winced. “You can do that. Do you mind getting us something to eat tonight?”
“No worries,” Sam said. “I’ll head out now if I can’t get you anything else.”
“Food will help the best. I just need to rest.”
Sam left the house. Emmy whimpered when he left, so he put a leash on his dog. He didn’t expect both of the Smiths in Baskin to need Emmy. Unfortunately for Tru, Emmy had been in the house when he was attacked outside.
Chapter Fifteen
~
A fter weapons practice, Sam walked into the snoop office, hoping that Dickey would be at his desk. He was.
“My brother was assaulted late afternoon yesterday,” Sam said. “Potter’s men. Tru and Potter had an argument and parted ways.”
“Any witnesses?” Dickey asked.
“Emmy.” Sam gave his partner a rueful smile.
“Not good enough, I’m afraid. Unless Tru has some solid evidence, nothing will be done. You know that, don’t you?”
Sam nodded. “I told Tru the same thing. I just wanted to make sure I thought correctly.”
“You did. How is everything going?”
“Slow improvement on the swordsmanship. Constable Rider keeps giving me better swordsmen, so my progress is slow.”
Dickey grunted with that report. “And Faran?”
Sam happily told him about the label adventures, since it covered both Antina’s language study and Faran’s servant instruction. He ended with more details of Tru’s departure from Potter’s Decorative Iron and his new employer, Antina Mulch.
“Probably make more money and be a lot happier. He should be drinking less, too.”
Sam nodded. “I hope so. Anything else before I head back into Lord Ditch’s cellar?”
“Nope. No more thefts reported. That doesn’t mean there hasn’t been more, you know.”
Sam nodded. “Faran is giving me more perspective on the nobility along with my lessons than I ever wanted.”
Dickey rose from his seat. “I won’t be delaying you any longer.”
Sam took that as a dismissal and left. He took a hired carriage and soon continued his work with Lord Ditch’s spirits.
~
“I am very angry with Potter,” Antina Mulch said to Sam. The beating obviously upset her more than anyone else. “I can make him pay, a little. A word here, a word there does dampen a person’s business for a bit. I should know.”
“How does that work?”
“Reputation. You know all about a tarnished reputation, young man. Were you as bad as everyone thought in Cherryton because you can’t see or perform pollen magic?”
“Of course not.”
“Rumors are weapons that many people employ. I’m not above a few well-placed stories myself. I’ve been the victim more than the perpetrator in my time running this shop. I’m more of a Baskin outsider than Tru is.”
Sam didn’t respond to that. Antina knew way too much to be victimized as much as his brother, at least at this stage in her life.
She sat back and clapped her hand on her thighs. “I suppose we might set aside Tru’s plight. It is test time.”
Sam took a deep breath and handed over his notebook. He hoped he wouldn’t make a fool of himself. As he pronounced the various names on the labels, Antina laughed out loud only a few times, so he counted his efforts as acceptable.
“No more signs of the thefts?” Sam said.
Antina looked away, barely able to restrain a smile. “I wouldn’t say that. This morning I had a larger order than usual from a Lady Branch.”
“Should I tell Dickey?”
Antina grinned and raised her eyebrows. “Of course.”
~
Sam rushed to the constabulary after his label lesson to inform his partner of the impending complaint.
“Nothing has been reported today,” Dickey said. “Why don’t you check with the desk sergeant?”
Sam did so and returned, disappointed that no one reported a jewel theft.
“So they don’t want the constabulary to help them?” Sam said.
“Some people don’t want intruders in their lives. For better or worse, constables are intruders,” Dickey said. “They can stir things up that, in their eyes, don’t need stirring.”
Sam nodded. “I understand. I was an intruder of sorts in Cherryton. People would just as soon not have me around.”
Dickey grunted. “Not exactly, but close enough. If you can put up with the antagonism, being an intruder can shake things up. Shake the tree, so something interesting falls at your feet. But you have to be tough. Are you tough enough?”
Sam had to think about that. He didn’t feel as hardened as Dickey Nail seemed to be, or even Harrison Dimple. “Not yet,” he said.
“I’m glad you know that. For you, I think it will come with practice.” Dickey looked at the clock on the office wall. “I think you can go see how your brother is doing.”
“Thank you.” Sam bowed to his partner and rushed home.
Tru was on the couch in the parlor, fast asleep. Sam gently shook him.
“Sam?” his brother said.
“It is. Have you eaten today?”
Tru shook his head. “Not much. Enough to stay alive, I guess.” His brother managed a smile. “Emmy has been with me until I let her out mid-afternoon. I guess I’ve been asleep since then.”
“Then she guarded the back door for you.”
“She did,” Tru said, running his hands through his lanky hair while he yawned. He winced as he stood up. “Still sore.”
Sam sought out Emmy, and they used the back alley to go out and get some supplies while the closest market was still open. He ran through the back streets to give Emmy some exercise. He was gasping for air by the time they stopped in an alley exiting onto the market square.
Sam took a few deep breaths to appear calmer when they walked into the waning sunlight towards the part of the market that sold foodstuffs. He would buy some produce and enough street food to satisfy all three of them.
After slipping on his spectacles, everything always looked a bit different. Women rarely wore veils in Baskin, but most had pollen scarves or shawls. Sam even noticed a few hats.
He walked through the market listening to people talk about the blind youth with the big dog. Sam only smiled as he made his way through the still-crowded market.
Emmy barked at a couple, and it was all Sam could do to restrain her. The man made a comment in the court language. Sam nearly understood him. He mentioned something about Emmy. Sam looked at the man, who was better dressed than most, of course, being noble. He guessed the woman wore pollen-made jewelry and wondered if she was one of Antina’s patrons.
Sam lifted up his spectacles and realized she wore a mask, as well as magically-made ornaments. Did she look familiar? She couldn’t help looking at Emmy and then him. Sam couldn’t believe he had found Banna Plunk in a common market in Baskin, but that must be her. He memorized her face. It could be the same as the servant he had encountered in the Plunk mansion in Mountain View when Sam rescued Harrison.
He tried to follow them, but Emmy kept barking, and the pair kept turning around.
“Go on your own way, boy!” the woman said, quite derisively.
She said something about bad manners in court language to her escort, but Sam’s vocabulary was still in a rudimentary state. He couldn’t follow them, at least not holding onto Emmy. Frustrated, he turned and continued on his way.
Tru was looking better when he returned from the market. He quickly washed some vegetables and fruit and brought his purchases in on a tray.
“Ah! I smell roasted sausages,” he said.
“I thought all three of us could enjoy them,” Sam said. “I fed Emmy too many on my way back but kept a few for us. I have to go to my room and document something.”
“You saw a pretty girl?”
“I wish,” Sam said. “I might have run into Banna Plunk.”
“The mastermind of the miner’s revolt?”
Sam nodded. “The very same. She clung to the arm of a nobleman wearing the face of a much younger woman. Emmy barked at her.”
“Doesn’t Emmy bark at random people?” Tru asked.
“No,” Sam said. “She always has a reason, but we might not know it.” Sam grinned. “Here is your dinner.”
He ran upstairs and sketched the woman’s face as best he could. He dug out other sketches drawn from memory and convinced himself that he had definitely spotted Banna Plunk. Unfortunately, no one else could see through the woman’s mask.
Sam thought for a bit and sketched the jewelry she wore from his fading memory of the gems and their mountings. After spending some time fiddling with the sketches, he joined Tru and spent a pleasant evening talking of the better times they had, as few as they were, when they both lived in Cherryton.
~
“Here are the sketches I made,” Sam said. He showed his previous night’s work to Dickey Nail.
“Two women?”
Sam shook his head. “This is the mask, and this is Banna Plunk. I compared the latest drawings with the ones I made during the summer. I’m sure she was Banna Plunk.”
“Why the jewelry?”
“I’m going to show the drawings to Antina Mulch. If she didn’t make the jewelry, I'd bet Banna Plunk produced them herself.”
“A leap, that is,” Dickey said. “But something you need to do sometimes. Go ahead. I’ll keep the woman’s faces, if you don’t mind. We need to build a file.”
Sam nodded. He had contributed plenty to Dickey’s files as he wrote report after report for him and the other snoops. Now Banna Plunk would join all the other criminals.
“I’ll be late for my session with Faran Rubble,” Sam said. He waved to Dickey on his way out, and after a hired carriage ride, he alighted in front of the Pitch mansion.
Faran’s instructions were finally sinking in, and their morning ended with the butler declaring that Sam was ready for work at the Piper Club as soon as his court language improved a bit more.
Sam didn’t know whether to feel excited or afraid during the carriage trip to Antina’s shop. Faran thought he’d be ready by the time Lord Pitch returned, and with a week to go, it looked like Dickey’s friend was right, according to Faran. Sam wasn’t so sure, but he dreaded going back to hanging around the constabulary apprentices, and the last few weeks had actually been enjoyable, even though all the learning had turned into a grind.
Antina waited on a customer. The two sat in the alcove where Sam had his lessons. He made sure the woman wasn’t wearing a mask, but she had, like many women, enhanced her appearance with some strategically placed pollen patches. Sam would have to ask Antina about that. What if a noblewoman wasn’t adept at doing such a thing? Did other women make a living enhancing other’s looks?
The patron finally left, and Sam joined Antina who beckoned him to the alcove.
“You look excited,” Antina said.
“Does it show? Faran said I’m ready except for the court language.”
She nodded. “You need to work on more vocabulary, but we’ve talked about that before.”
“I think I saw Banna Plunk yesterday evening,” Sam said. He set out the jewelry drawings. “Do you make ornaments using this style? Banna wore them.”
Antina looked closely at the drawings. “These are variations of Vaarekian designs. It would be very rare for a Baskin woman to have run across this jewelry, even in far-away Vaarek where the nobles go when they visit the Polistian continent. Banna Plunk could have seen the design before she traveled to Toraltia.”
“You’ve never used the design?”
Antina pursed her lips. “I wouldn’t say never, but not recently. The pollen jewels that sat in those settings would have deteriorated.”
“The settings were made out of pollen, too,” Sam said.
“Really.” Antina leaned over and looked at Sam’s sketches again. “A true pollen artist, I’d say.”
“She definitely is,” Sam said.
“Then the chances are excellent you saw her. She had to have recognized you, especially with your Great Sanchian Hound.”
Sam wondered if being spotted by Banna Plunk would have ruined his chance to work at the Piper Club. “She will spot me there.”
“Noblewomen don’t set foot inside that place. The Plunk woman won’t be able to accompany a lord inside.”
“But women are employed by the club, aren’t they? Isn’t the Piper Club a high-class brothel?”
Antina raised her eyebrows. “I should box your ears for saying such a thing, but the answer is maybe. But the brothel part is not verified, I hear. Women don’t parade around in their underwear like they do in those places.”
Sam laughed. “I’ve been inside a brothel twice,” he said. “Not as a customer, but I went to one in Cherryton to look for work and accompanied Harrison Dimple inside another in Mount Vannon.”
“Ah,” Antina said in a light voice. “A seasoned man of the world.”
Sam felt his face turn red. “Not at all.”
She laughed. “Practice your labels for pronunciation, and let’s go over what words you thought you understood yesterday when the couple spoke to you in court language.”
Chapter Sixteen
~
F our weeks had passed without another theft reported. Sam wondered if his efforts had been for nothing. Faran’s Lord Pitch had returned with Lady Pitch, so his manners lessons became once a week at a tavern’s private room.
Antina had been merciless in seizing his mornings, as well as continuing their afternoon work. Faran declared his court language, as limited as it was, to be suitable for work at the Piper Club.
Sam walked into the snoop office after an unusually vigorous sword workout with the big boys. He had been thrashed as usual. He had plopped down in a chair to rest when Dickey walked into the room and tossed a sheet of paper on his lap. Sam sat up and read it.
“I thought the thefts had stopped,” Sam said.
“Nope,” Dickey said. “You start at the Piper Club for the day shift in two days. Faran has the details at the mansion.”
“But it isn’t his day off,” Sam said. He could feel reluctance rear its head in him.
“Just go to the servant’s door, and he will present you with a letter of recommendation and instructions. Until then, you will assist me with this new theft. It sounds the same as the others. We have an appointment already set up for eleven o’clock. There isn’t any reason why we can’t stop by Lord Pitch’s residence on the way.”
~
Sam patted the thick envelope under his coat as the coach stopped. He hadn’t time to read any of his instructions. As he walked through the gate at the scene of the current crime, Sam wasn’t as awestruck by this mansion. The building was large, but not well-maintained. Decorative plaster had been patched with pollen, a no-no among the nobility, but it happened, and it had happened with abandon at this residence.
They entered a boudoir. The housekeeper described the theft. The lady of the house peeked through a door and hastily withdrew her head when Sam spotted her.
He found a few pieces of pollen-made hair ornaments uncharacteristically left behind by the thief that Antina hadn’t made, but they reminded him of her work. The telltale shreds of pink pollen were scattered about.
“Where did Lady Retch obtain this jewelry?”
“I don’t know, but it is odd that it was left, isn’t it?” the housekeeper said.
“My husband’s gift for our anniversary,” Lady Retch said as she stepped into the room.
Her face was unmade, and she had more pollen patchwork than any woman Sam had yet seen. It made her look bizarre when he looked at her with his natural vision with skin stretched between the patches to hide wrinkles.
“I know why it wasn’t taken. It is fine pollen jewelry,” she said. Her voice betrayed the anger or the hurt she probably felt when she had realized they weren’t real. “Some people are satisfied with such stuff.”
Her comment made it plain she wasn’t happy at all. She spoke to the housekeeper in court language and then retreated to whatever room lay behind the door she used.
Sam smiled when he realized that he understood the gist of what she had just said. ‘Get these people out of my house as soon as possible.’
The housekeeper looked at Dickey, who gave her an indulgent smile. “I didn’t tell her you spoke court language.” She didn’t formally apologize, but Dickey was unexpectedly gracious about it when she confirmed that no one but the Lady and the Lord had been in the house the previous night.
