An Apprentice Without Magic, page 6
part #2 of Magic Missing Series
“A real report? You wrote it?” Mark said.
Sam noticed the surprise in his peer’s voice. “I did. It is all done.”
“All by yourself?”
Sam sleepily nodded. “I was given an old report as the format.”
Mark shook his head. “Your partner must really trust you. I’ve never even seen whatever my trainer writes.”
Sam softly chuckled. “I’m sure Dickey will keep me from seeing reports in the future, especially those where he is talking about me. Sorry to wake you up. Good night.”
Mark nodded and lay back down.
Sam put his hands behind his head on the pillow and looked up at the shadowy ceiling. Had Dickey trusted him more than the others? He didn’t know, and Sam found that he didn’t care what the other apprentices did. His duties had to be different from the others. As he fell asleep, all he could see were people dressed in fine clothes, lining up to enter the ironmongery.
Chapter Six
~
“F or the last task this morning, name the major cities of Toraltia and what sets them apart,” the apprentice’s teacher stated.
The apprentices groaned as one, but Sam knew the answers. He groaned along with them but went to work. He finished first and figured he had most of the cities right. It wasn’t an easy assignment, but he had faced one like it in Cherryton early in the year when he was still attending school.
He waited for a bit, playing at checking his work before he took his paper to the front and gave it to the instructor. The man grabbed the paper. He glanced at Sam with a pinched face before reading. Sam noticed his body language change as he proceeded.
“You did rather well,” he said.
Sam pursed his lips and replied as quietly as he could. “I had to do much the same thing in school, so I had an advantage.”
The teacher looked at the apprentices. Sam turned, as well, as a few apprentices ducked down, obviously listening to the conversation.
“I see. It would be wise not to forget what you’ve learned. In constabulary work, you never know what tidbit of knowledge helps you, especially for a snoop. You may leave early.”
Sam put a pollen book away and took off his spectacles. This frame was beginning to soften just like the first one. He left to seek Dickey, but his partner wasn’t around the office.
“He’s out on his own this morning. Said he would be back after lunch,” one of the other snoops said before he turned back to his paperwork.
Sam had nothing else to do, so he slipped out of the constabulary and decided to take Emmy for a walk to introduce her to the new house. He put a leash on the dog and walked through the streets of Baskin attracting stares, some friendly and some fearful.
The house didn’t look any different. He stepped inside after using the keys and found a pile of clothes in the parlor. Sam stood over them and detected the odors of a forge. Other than the remains of purchased food in the kitchen, Tru hadn’t made much impact on the place.
Sam sighed and went to work on cleaning up the kitchen. He’d have to find out where he could carry the trash, but as he worked, he found the place was by no means derelict. He walked upstairs and found that Tru had taken over the largest bedroom. Sam didn’t care. He suspected he wouldn’t be spending much time in the house anyway, but it felt liberating to have a place of his own.
No Mark, his brother, and, if he was honest, no Mark, his fellow apprentice. He didn’t really trust Mark, the apprentice, but their relationship was not based on hatred. He twisted his mouth into a grimace before descending the stairs back to the main level. Emmy padded right behind him. He unlocked the door to the back garden and told Emmy to run.
She couldn’t run far, but she seemed to enjoy prancing around. Sam picked off a dead branch from the tree next door and tossed it. They played with the stick for a bit. Sam would have to return to cut down the grass another day. He reacquainted himself with the outbuilding and its two rooms and returned with Emmy to the constabulary.
His tour just about cost him getting lunch, but he managed to bolt some food down before Dickey showed up at the commissary door and crooked his finger, indicating that lunch had just ended for Sam.
“You were let out early and left the constabulary when you had work to do,” Dickey said. “I need those notes finished.”
Sam stopped. “Didn’t you look at them?”
His partner shook his head. “Why should I?”
“Because I completed the task last night, or I should say, early this morning. I found something out that we didn’t talk about.”
“What?” Dickey asked.
“You are the snoop. Look at the evidence and see if you come up with the same conclusion I did,” Sam replied.
Dickey grunted. “Who is the trainer?”
Sam had to grin. “You are. The task was a test, and now you have the opportunity to grade my work.”
“Feeling a bit frisky? Did you have a good lunch? It looked like you just sat down.”
Sam nodded. “I did. I was released a bit early from class and decided to see if Tru had moved in. He has. Emmy seems to like the back garden.”
They proceeded in silence after another grunt from his partner. Sam sat down on the chair by Dickey’s desk and waited for feedback on his work. Dickey looked through every page and spent a long time looking at Sam’s chart.
“I would have never thought to do this,” Dickey said. “We were on to them, but I certainly didn’t know how much until I saw this.” He shook the chart.
Sam frowned. “I don’t know about that, but most of the people stayed in the shop for a long time, even the better-dressed ones. Maybe we need to spend another day watching the ironmonger.”
“Maybe, but we will leave that to the Chief. Sit here. I’ll find out if we will need to t do another rotation.”
Sam sat while Dickey walked into Chief Bentwick’s office. While he waited, other constable investigators wandered in and out of the office, but they basically ignored Sam. He snorted and wryly smiled. Sam didn’t know if Bentwick had granted him a blessing or a curse by making him an apprentice.
Dickey eventually walked back out and found Sam’s eyes. He pointed his finger at his desk, and Sam took that for staying where he was.
“A burglary,” Dickey said. “We won’t be observing the ironmongery for a bit. Bentwick likes to have different men and a few women who work for us part-time do the observing. He liked your chart and will continue what you started.”
Sam frowned, not knowing how he should take the compliment, since Dickey’s tone of voice didn’t make it sound like he had done something special.
“Now we will have more paperwork to do, thanks to you,” Sam’s partner said. “Grab your notebook and a pencil.” He pointed at the notebook. “Take your spectacles with you.”
Sam nodded. Dickey stopped at a closet on their way out and put on a uniform tunic that was cut more like a dress jacket. They took a hired carriage to a much nicer part of Baskin than he had ever seen. Mountain View and Cherryton had nice districts, but even Banna Plunk’s mansion might not have been average on the streets that the hired carriage took them through. Dickey looked out the window and didn’t say a word the entire trip until their conveyance halted.
“Be on your best behavior,” Dickey said. “The fewer words you speak, the farther we will get. Understand?”
Sam nodded, but he didn’t really comprehend what his partner meant, so he followed behind Dickey as they walked to the side door.
“We don’t go in the front?”
Dickey shook his head. “We are servants to these people.”
‘These people’ meant the upper, upper class of Toraltia, Sam guessed. They waited, even though Sam caught someone peering at them through a curtain. The door reminded him of Banna Plunk’s mansion, but he had been able to move freely as a servant in that house. He surmised the aristocracy didn’t trust people in Baskin.
Sam heard someone unlock the door. Dickey smoothed his hair and pulled down his jacket and cleared his throat. He’d never seen his partner check his looks before.
A well-dressed butler opened the door. He spoke in a different language, although Sam could identify a familiar word here and there. Dickey replied in a more fluid sounding accent. Sam wouldn’t be saying any words for the simple reason he didn’t understand anything the pair said.
The butler gently closed the door, leaving them standing on the stone stoop.
“What language was that?” Sam blurted out.
“The aristocracy speaks a different language than the common people.”
“I’ll have to learn that?”
Dickey grimaced. “Apprentices don’t learn such things. Few people in Baskin even know. It isn’t a secret that there is a court language, but most people don’t care because it will never affect them.”
“Why do you know the language?” Sam asked.
“Part of my job. If you pass your training, you might need to learn it, as well, but until then, you just act politely.”
Sam nodded. “I don’t have any choice, do I?”
“Nope,” Dickey said. “Four hundred years ago, the Toraltian royal line died out, and a prince from Vaarek on the Polistian continent became king. He insisted that all courtiers speak in his language. It became a sign of status, so…” His partner shrugged his shoulders. “Over time Toraltian words have crept into the language, but not many.”
“And if I wanted to learn the language?”
Dickey snorted. “You’d have to find yourself a Vaarekian. The constabulary wouldn’t waste their time on an apprentice.”
Sam turned his partner’s words over in his mind. He knew how a lack of ability to manipulate pollen kept him from joining society. Now he confronted another barrier, but it was one he could solve. He decided he’d have another talk with Antina Mulch. Perhaps she would know a Vaarekian in Baskin like herself, who would teach him court language.
The door opened, and more unintelligible words were exchanged. Sam wondered why Dickey had even bothered to bring him along. He slipped on his spectacles as he entered the house. It wasn’t so fancy to Sam’s eyes, but then they were still in the servant part of the residence.
The butler led them through a door, and suddenly evidence of wealth surrounded Sam. Rugs covered the floors. There were no such things as plain walls. Even the ceilings swirled with carved leaves, vines, and flowers. Sam thought the house more than rivaled Lennard Lager’s keep at Mountain View. They didn’t walk far. The butler opened a door and said something to Dickey, who nodded and walked through, with Sam obediently following.
He took his glasses off, and some of the ornaments on the walls disappeared. He waited for the butler to close the door behind them before speaking.
“Some of the objects on the walls are made out of pollen,” Sam said. He pointed to a few.
“Really?” Dickey said, suddenly interested in what Sam had to say. “This one, you say?”
Sam nodded. He reached out and could feel a wall sconce, but not the details. After donning his spectacles, he looked at the sconce. “This one isn’t even painted. I’ve seen decorations like this in Mountain View. Banna Plunk or one of her minions made them for the lord of the town.”
Dickey touched the sconce and shook his head. “I would have sworn this was real metal, but it is warm to the touch, room temperature like all magical objects.”
The door opened. Both of them turned around. Sam might have looked like he was caught doing something since the butler said something to Dickey, but then he stepped aside and let a middle-aged woman in.
“You may sit,” she said, putting out her hand towards two side chairs while she sat in a large overstuffed chair. “I understand the boy doesn’t speak court language. I know how he feels since I grew up outside of Baskin. We can converse in Toraltian.” She looked at the butler and flicked her hand. The butler sniffed, but then he left them alone.
Sam nearly sighed with relief. Maybe he would be able to get an idea of why they were in the mansion.
“You are Baskin’s best investigator?” the woman asked.
Dickey glanced at Sam. “There are those who would dispute that, but I am recognized for competence, ma’am.”
“And the boy?” She ignored Sam as if he wasn’t sitting in the room, yet if she hadn’t recognized his presence, they would be speaking in court language.
“An apprentice with a discerning eye. He looks young, but he fought in this summer’s revolt in the mountains.”
The woman made a face. “Oh, that nonsense. There was a rumor that the elusive Harrison Dimple made an appearance. Do you know anything about that?”
Sam sat up to respond, but Dickey put a hand on Sam’s shoulder and shook his head. “The boy told me that someone had mentioned that. Didn’t you Sam?”
Harrison Dimple seemed to have sponsors and enemies in Baskin, so Sam just nodded. “I think I saw him.”
“Harrison should be in Baskin, not roaming through the countryside.” She sighed.
Perhaps the woman was a supporter, after all, but Sam just nodded.
“You summoned us here?” Dickey said.
Sam was glad for a change in subject.
“Ah, yes. I am missing some jewels. My husband said he doesn’t know anything about it, and,” she gave Dickey a knowing look, “I know when he is lying to me and when he isn’t.”
“When did they go missing?”
The woman raised her eyebrows and put her hand to her chin, deep in thought. “Yesterday, but they could have been gone for a week or two. I was in Deep River visiting my ailing aunt.” She looked around the room. “There is so much else someone can steal. The curios in this room are worth hundreds of lions.”
Dickey rose to his feet and pointed at the pollen fake. “What about this one? I’m rather drawn to it.”
“A unique piece from Gruellia, of all places. You notice the spots of rust? We can’t keep it shiny in Baskin. It might be worth twenty lions.”
Dickey sat down and looked at the piece again. “So your jewels might have been taken recently? Might I ask if we can look at where you keep them?”
The woman looked surprised but nodded. “Upstairs in my fitting room. If you follow me, we won’t have to worry about my servant giving you a cold eye.” She gave Dickey an unexpected smile.
They padded on thick carpet up a sweeping stairway. The lady led them to a double door and then to a bright little room that bordered a larger sitting room.
“In here,” she said. “I kept them in this drawer.” She opened it up after unlocking it with a key she took from a clock stand in the room.
Dickey rummaged around. “Not all were taken, I see.”
“Only a few pieces,” she said.
“Why don’t you take a look, Sam? You are more perceptive than I,” Dickey stood aside.
Sam took his spectacles off and then put them on again. No pollen magic jewelry here. He looked closely with his spectacles and noticed a few threads of what might be pink pollen on the floor in front of the dresser.
“There is some lint in here. Do you mind if I clean it?” Sam said.
The woman shrugged. Sam took that for her consent and picked out the pollen using a set of tweezers in a silver tray.
“Could you put this somewhere, Constable Nail?” Sam said.
Dickey squinted at Sam, but he ripped a sheet out of Sam’s notebook and folded it. Sam found four strands on the floor and dropped them in the crease of the page. He looked inside the drawer and found one more. He got to his feet. “I think I got them all.” He looked at the woman. “If the jewels are returned, could you let us see them?”
“Do you think someone would replace them with counterfeits?” the woman asked.
“We do,” Dickey said. “They would be evidence, especially if they are fakes. Do you trust your servants?”
“I do. They have all been with us for years, but circumstances change over time for people, don’t they?”
Dickey nodded. “We might be back for more questioning. Would that be acceptable?”
The woman grunted, a bit out of character. “Of course.” She smiled at both of them. “I will see you out.”
Sam expected them to leave by the front door, which they passed, but they exited out the same servant’s door that they had entered. Sam looked out at the meticulously manicured garden. The grounds weren’t expansive. He turned to look back at the house, only to notice the butler looking at them through the window next to the door they had used.
“We aren’t good enough for the front door?” Sam asked.
“Constables are never good enough,” Dickey said. “We aren’t good enough for the court tongue, either. It was an insult that she spoke to us in Toraltian, but you wouldn’t know that.” Dickey looked ahead and took a calming breath. “What did you learn?”
“I don’t think the lady knew the objects in her sitting room were fakes. The theft probably had to be an inside job. When you gave me the opportunity to look closer, I didn’t see any fake jewels or any signs of anyone trying to force the drawer open. The woman kept her jewels locked up, even when she was home.”
Dickey nodded. “We are together on that. What were those strands you had me pick up? I could hardly see them.”
“Some kind of animal pollen, I think. I can’t touch it, or it might disappear since there were only a few very thin threads,” Sam said. “They shouldn’t have been there. Maybe I should see Antina Mulch. She knows a lot about pollen.”
“And I don’t?”
Sam ran his tongue along his teeth. He had to be diplomatic. “You could barely see it. I know it was pink. Sheep pollen is yellow. Animal pollen can have unique properties like the sheep pollen we found in the mountain villages.”
Dickey snorted. “I can see your point, but do you really think Mulch will know about this?”
Sam nodded. “Who knows about pollen any better than she?”
His partner sighed. “Then let us visit the woman,” Dickey said before hailing a carriage.
