Nasty Little Witchling

I held in a sneeze while all the dust I had kicked up tickled my nose and buried my face in the crook of my elbow when it got too much. I wasn’t worried about anyone hearing me with all the shouting going on below.

My coin wasn’t going to be in a dusty room full of old sheets and broken crates, nor was I going to find it anywhere except on the person of the blonde thief. It was likely already spent and there was little chance of getting it back.

How would I even tell if it was mine if I did find one?

For the first time since I started this weird adventure, I wondered what I was trying to accomplish and blamed the alcohol for my fuzzy thoughts. Curiosity moved me to the door and down the creaky stairs that I slowly placed my weight onto.

It was a pointless precaution.

“Who pays for all this?! Who got us here? Who do you think you are dictating terms to me?” The anger in the shouts matched the thundering steps from before.

Fergie started shouting again when a calm voice tried to respond. “Shut it, Jay. You wasted a lot of roe with that stupid stunt.”

“I think showing their kids the watch isn’t what they think is a good recruitment tool,” Jay said calmly.

“We don’t need to do that.”

“We? You don’t get to say that while the rest of us do all the work, take on all the risk. Some of us want to do more than vandalise your mum’s competitors.”

“We are. Do you know who owned that last store? The Manaleafs. You wanna know what they were doing before The Fall?”

“Of course I know who the fucking Manaleafs are.”

I tucked myself into a doorway next to the room they were all in, forgetting about the coin. The door hinge was on my side, so I crept over to peek through the small gap made by the partly open door, making sure not to bump into it.

Those in the room sat atop crates or stood in each other’s faces like Jay and Fergie. A few stood just behind each, glaring at the other side.

The hoods of their cloaks were pulled back with wooden masks resting on some of their heads, revealing their faces. The two speakers were the oldest in the room and the only ones not wearing cloaks.

Jay had most of his hair shaved down on the sides, and a silver necklace dangling from his neck onto a well-tailored tunic. From my angle, I couldn’t see much of Fergie, but he was on the chubbier side and had some height on the boy he was staring down.

“Stop treating us like we're stupid, Fergie. This isn’t about them, we know what you’re doing,” said a woman with an owl mask standing just behind Jay. “And we don’t appreciate being used to devalue property.”

“You’re just mummy’s messenger boy,” said the boy who stole my coin. He was sitting at the back of the room, playing with a mask depicting a kudu, twisted horns and all.

“We took a vote earlier, like we told you we would, interrupting your little party to let you know the results,” Jay said. “Cruel of you not to invite us, by the way, considering our last haul paid for it.”

“The pittance this little scheme brings in isn’t enough to buy a single bottle of quality liquor.”

“Really? Anyways, you’ve been voted as our new treasurer. Congratulations.”

A round of sparse applause went on to commemorate the occasion. I shifted my footing from my legs getting tired, debating whether or not to leave considering the number of people inside.

“Therefore, we need a new leader. All in favour of myself?”

There was a round of ‘ayes’ from most except those behind Fergie.

“Don’t you just love democracy?” Jay asked.

Fergie started laughing in an obnoxiously over-the-top way. “And where are you going to get funding from? Where are we going to meet? This is my building. Without me, you’d all be arrested and kicked out of the castle district already.”

“The East Side crew introduced us to their new benefactor. He’s in town to personally oversee his investments. Passed along a message that we could be included if we pull off something big to get his notice.”

“Ooo, something big? How mysterious…get over yourself. You think you can go from petty theft to organised crime? What are you going to do? Hit the fruit market on Grove Street?”

“Since you’re funding whatever it is, I thought it would be polite to let you have a vote. That is the whole point of this meeting after all.”

“You’re delusional if you think I’m sinking another bronze into this shit show.”

“You will if you don’t want the papers finding out how we picked our robbery targets.”

Fergie was silent for a long time before shouts erupted. Feet and bodies hit the wooden floor. Chairs were knocked down, and glass shattered in the squabble. Calls for quiet were drowned out until the two were pulled off each other, blood streaking down their faces.

Spells that had been forming on the sidelines fell apart, and I remembered to breathe.

“I’m not the only one with something to lose here. You think your families are going to like learning their children are a bunch of wannabe revolutionaries?”

“Unlike you, we have actual convictions,” said Owl Mask. “They’ll understand, eventually.”

“We steal from the mages to make ourselves rich. What bloody convictions, Bridgette?” said the coin thief.

“Not everyone is a selfish prick, Alister.”

“Enough, let’s vote and get this over with,” Jay said, wiping blood from his nose.

“What are the options, oh mighty leader,” Fergie snarked.

“Raise hands for the library…the noble’s gambling house…the palace…the watch headquarters…Pedro Bank…the capital auction house.” The list went on for a while with other people shouting out names that were turned down or voted on.

“You’re fucking mental,” Fergie said. “You’ll get my roe, but I’m not stepping foot in a single one of those death traps.”

“We don’t want you and your fat feet anywhere near a stealth job,” Alister said.

“The gambling house is the target by one vote,” Jay said. “Anyone want to change theirs?”

“I hope they sic the beasts on you, ingrates.”

Heavy footfalls started marching towards the open doorway. I stumbled to my feet and turned to run towards the stairway. I panicked at the stairs, not sure if I should go up or down.

There were at least two exits above me. However, I only remembered that when I was already moving downwards. I swung around the railing onto the next set of stairs. The light from the meeting room didn’t reach and I tripped on the last step when expecting there to be another.

“Who’s there?” Fergie shouted.

I didn’t answer on my way down the last set of steps; he started shouting. He was delayed by someone telling him there was no one else in the building, but footsteps still thundered down after me a moment later.

The bottom floor at least had light coming in through the grimy windows. My shoulder bashed into the door as I skidded to a stop. I shook the doorknob each way, but it clicked in place.

The footsteps and shouting reached the last landing. I twisted the lock and tried again. Nothing. The bolt clunked when I twisted it backwards. The bell above chimed violently and I was running down a dark street for the second time in one night.

A muffled chime sounded from the door banging closed again. A clearer chime followed. I turned down a side street instead of running into an illuminated intersection.

The shoes I wore were not made for running. They pinched my toes and threatened to slide out from under me when I made a sharp turn.

My pursuers didn’t shout anymore. Mana reserves and thumps of boots on the cobble reminded me they were still there.

I stopped running before walking into the light of another intersection, trying to control my breathing. I infused the crystal again and wiped the back of my hand across my sweaty forehead.

This one had a pub on the corner with patrons chatting over barrels, barkeeps walking between them and refilling any empty glasses. A few of the men and women glanced over but didn’t care for me.

The way across led towards the castle walls. I steadied my pace, swinging my arms the same I would if I wasn’t being chased, and walked over to the other side. I was now amongst those going home, or out on a nighttime stroll.

A group ran into the street further down from me. I kept my head facing forward for the last few yards, unsure if they had seen me before and knew what I looked like, at least from behind.

They didn’t start running again, but the mages started moving to the intersection at a brisk pace.

The walls of the castle towered over the last row of buildings blocking my way to them. I took the next turn I hoped would take me to the drawbridge.

Lanterns lined the wall, shimmering in the reflection on the moat. A pair of knights got up from where they were sitting with their legs dangling over the drawbridge.

My pursuers had stopped following me and had spread out from the intersection; the mage that went my way hadn’t turned to follow me.

“Evening, ma’am.” “Good evening, name?”

“Ah, Valeria.”

She nodded like she had expected it. “Welcome back, ma’am.”

“Oh, thank you. Umm, did Samuel come by? Or Linh?”

“Manafold? No, ma’am. We were told to expect him with you. Did something happen?” she said, looking at where the mage was through the walls.

“I left without him, if he comes over could you please let him know I made it inside?”

“Can do.”

She led me through the smaller door inside of the main one and over to the portcullis. She placed her palm on a gold panel embedded into the wall. A faint sequence of mana ripples had the gate retreating into the ceiling.

I put on a smile and nodded to her. “Have a good night.”

“You too, ma’am.”

The lighting above the lower bailey gave every plant, building, and person multiple shadows along the pathway. Staff members were still walking back through the open inner gates, waved through by more knights. I shivered in the cool air, remembering my sweater still with Sam.

I wanted to meet back up with the two of them, but wandering the city hoping to run into them was a foolish idea. There were also the morning drills I had to wake up for, and I wanted to have a chance to read before sleeping.

The guards at the inner gate didn’t ask any questions as I walked through. They nodded to me, assuming I was meant to be in the castle if I’d made it this far.

I trudged up the steps to my room, half expecting to run into Haily despite the hour. My room was pristine thanks to her, and my lack of use besides the bed. Prying off my hard leather shoes revealed red indents on my skin that I tried to massage away.

Falling into bed and passing out sounded like a great idea, but I wanted to shower and wash off the sweat from the dancing, running, climbing, and more running.

…

“I think this belongs to you,” Sam said.

“Thanks.” I took the folded sweater and looked around the training ground for somewhere to put it. I’d made it here before the sunrise, along with everyone else, like I was supposed to.

I’d gone to sleep annoyed at my book. The killer was revealed using a clue that wasn’t disclosed till the ending monologue, which I thought was dumb. I was correct to assume the conductor had done it to hide his affair from all the evidence I had, too bad it was all invalidated at the last moment.

“You’re scowling. The knights at the gate said you made it back fine, did something happen?”

“No, just a lot of running.”

“Sorry about that, it’s the first time the watch has bothered us. Not sure what happened to get them there so early in the night.”

I nodded along, trying to think of a way to tell him what happened quickly since I could see Instructor Daniels exiting the bastion already.

“Twig, that doesn’t look like proper attire.”

“No, sir. Sam was just returning it.”

“Are you planning to hold it during my training?”

“No, sir…”

“Give it here.”

He took the sweater, swung it over his shoulders, and tied the sleeves loosely around his neck. “See me after if you want it back, off you all go.”

I didn’t need to turn around to see who was glaring at the back of my head.

My muscles and feet were sore from yesterday’s exercise and last night’s adventure. However, the run was a little easier since I matched Sam’s pace from the beginning instead of halfway through.

I’d been lied to the day before, the sit-ups had not gotten easier. Instructor Daniels hadn’t mentioned only doing twenty again, so I assumed I had to do the same number as everyone else. Which meant I was at the back of the cliff-crest line, trying to get dirt off my face after my arms failed mid push-up.

My chin reached the top pole for the last time, my breathing forced out in a strangled grunt. I dropped to the ground instead of hanging again.

“What was that, Twig? You didn’t even give it a try to do another. I was mildly impressed yesterday, but that was utter horse shit. Give me another.”

The instructor’s shouts, and very thinly veiled insults, stung less while he was wearing my pale yellow sweater around his neck. I turned back to the bar with my limbs feeling like they were about to fall off.

“And without your little stepping stone. Jump.”

I took a few steps back and let out a long breath. The extra room gave me a running start before I bent my knees and jumped towards the bar, arms outstretched. My fingers latched onto it as I swung back and forth.

After shuffling from side to side to get a better grip then pulled my chin to the top.

Instructor Daniels was occupied nudging someone else’s elbows. I still went for another. And another.

When I dropped, after the last one I could possibly do, the line was starting to form again from some groups finishing their second set.

“Sit out your next set and get a drink, Twig,” he shouted from across the training grounds.

“Yes, sir,” I mumbled while people stared.

I wanted to pour the cup of water over my head instead of drinking it but gulped it down before grabbing another. Clair, Isaac, and Sam finished their set and went for the line as well.

The knights were practising mounted formations in the field beyond. The scores of horses had been ridden in from the palace stables and outer gate during our training. They wore their own green cloaks that came down to their knees, matching their rider's capes. Metal plates on their head and chainmail peeking out from under the fabric protected them.

Instructor Daniels spent most of his time getting us to turn our heads away from the rows of horses trotting together. Polem hadn’t come with and I doubted anyone could have got him into what the others were wearing.

“Vahan, show her the basics would you,” Instructor Daniles shouted to one of the boys in a different group.

He had pointed at me and a rope marked sparring ring, so I made my way to it. Pairs were already grappling or swinging wooden weapons in most of them. Vahan was more stocky than most and had come out on top in the previous day's matches.

He offered me a fist. “Vahan.”

“Valeria.”

“Ah, not sure what to do since most of the normal advice wouldn’t work for you, so let’s just focus on not getting injured.” He started calling out my stance and making hand gestures to get me to spread my feet and bend my knees.

“You’re not going to have a good time pushing and pulling people. It just ain't happening chief. If they get on top of you, don’t try to move them off you; move yourself from under them.

“Don’t get pinned, 'cause it won’t be a good time. Don’t grab me, but pull my grabs. Let me sweep myself rather than trying to sweep me. If that makes sense?”

I nodded slowly. “Maybe?”

Vahan slowly went through the moves and showed me how to turn myself and where to move if someone came at me a certain way. We moved to the ground where I learnt how not to get pinned flat and the start of how to use my knees as a shield. He kept talking about open and closed guards but lost me.

I was apprehensive when he first grabbed my wrists, but he was gentle about it and I imagined we were just dancing to the sound of horse hooves, grunts, and swords smacking together.

By the end, I felt more confident in my footing but wasn’t delusional enough to think I could last more than a few seconds before tapping out.

Everyone was told to form up in a line twenty yards away from the bastion for the last exercise. I did quite well with the quick bursts of sprinting back and forth, finishing the required ten laps in the top half.

“Good job,” Sam said once he’d caught his breath. “How did you find grappling with Vahan earlier?”

“Interesting, but I’m not sure when I would use it over, ah, spells.”

Instructor Daniels had dismissed us, yet we were still expected to sit in our groups and stretch before leaving. I sat on the hard ground and leaned forward to grab the souls of my shoes. I grinned at Sam who barely managed to get his middle finger to touch the tip of his toes.

I’d been waiting for Clair to say something all morning, but she seemed in a better mood without the competition for the horses going on.

“Are you going to be coming up to the palace after?” I asked Sam while balancing on one leg.

“Dad’s away at the mint today, so no meetings and no lunch,” he said, wobbling to the side while doing the same stretch.

“Do you want to meet me this afternoon anyway?” I planned to talk with him about last night and ask him what to do with the information. Also, to swindle some help with the cypher.

“I have lunch with Mother in the city, but I will after. You’d just need to inform the inner gate.”

“Twig, come get your sweater.”

“See you later,” I said and trotted over to the stern man holding out my sweater.

“Vahan said you were a quick study.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I know you’re not here for the aspirant track like the others, but I said I’d make sure you got something out of this. That includes participating in the spars and weapon drills we’ll be doing tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Before we get into this,” he said with a sigh. “Have you had a piss-poor weapon instructor since you were seven and I’m going to have to train a shoddy foundation out of you? Do you have a greatsword that your grandpappy passed down, and you just have to use it?”

I shook my head slowly. “No, sir. The sharpest thing I own is a letter opener.”

“Really?” he asked sceptically. “Do you have a mummy and daddy that buys you an elven heartwood spear so their darling boy doesn't get too close to the fight?”

I followed his gaze to where Sam was collecting his spear from the weapon racks. “No, sir.”

“Well, this is a first. Are you going to throw a fit behind my back if I assign you the bow?”

“Ah…” I looked over to the curved pieces of mana-ridden wood and fibre that were taller than me, and most of the aspirants.

“Not the enchanted ones you dolt. I saw you riding a destrier yesterday without using the reins. Archery atop on horseback is very difficult, but that’s where I want to get you to if you keep at it.”

I was a little embarrassed that he’d seen my pettiness and made it the deciding factor for my weapon choice. But, the bows did seem the most interesting out of those available. I’d leave hitting people with wooden sticks to Sam.

“Sir, wouldn’t it be easier to use spells from a horse?”

“Can you fire iron-tipped arrows using spells? Can you hit a target hundreds of yards away using spells? Cause I can’t.”

“No, sir,” I said, not entirely sure of the answer.