"Starblade Chapter 1" by Kortnee Bryant

The woman looked at herself in the mirror and adjusted the belt around her waist.  She wore black pants that fit tight over her hips but loosely over the rest of her legs and flared around her ankles.  She wore a large, loose, black silk shirt with a large collar that opened suggestively but still covered her ample bust.  Her long, black hair fell to her knees and was kept out of the way with a long piece of black silk braided into it.  A piece of silk wrapped around the braid to keep it from catching on the belt at her waist.  The belt she was adjusting was made of large silver disks with a hook for the pouch she kept regularly filled with small rocks to disappoint eager thieves.  Satisfied that the belt was at the right angle, dipped just enough to the left to stay on her hips, she worked the cantrip that would make her clothes look like a slight breeze was rustling them.  There were few breezes in this part of the kingdom but a bard that had come through the town a few years earlier had shown her the trick and she rather liked the effect.  He’d shown her a few other tricks that still made her smile.

She hooked the large hoop earrings through her ears and checked the daggers she had in the sheaths along her forearms.  After making sure all her accessories were in place, she pulled on her high, stiff boots and checked the daggers she had hidden in both.  She flipped open the heel of one boot and checked the gem in it.  It hadn’t suffered at all since she had grabbed it and she wouldn’t be able to find the sage until later that night.  She wrapped it tightly in a black, silk handkerchief and puts it back in the boot.  She looked out the window at the setting sun and sighed. 

She closed her eyes and focused on the building around her.  It was well built in its time but had fallen into disrepair recently.  She focused on the stone of the foundation and began building from the bottom up.  She layered clean floors over the dirty ones that were really there, fresh paint over the pealing walls, a shine to unpolished silver and new boards instead of the aged and rotting ones.  The drain was significant but she would be okay with a few minutes of rest and meditation.

She always did her “repairs” to her parents’ house in the twilight, when it was less likely to be noticed because of the change in the lighting.  In the morning it would look exactly like it always had.  She closed her eyes and allowed the energy around her to fill her again.  Somehow, she was able to renew her energy faster than the men she knew who worked with illusions.  Someone had once said it was because she would be a good mother someday, probably the bard.  He had often referred to her as a mother, usually with a half-hopeful smile that would have been annoying if he hadn’t immediately followed it with some of his more endearing mannerisms. 

Feeling recharged, she reached over and grabbed the sword from which she had taken the name that felt more like hers than the one her parents had given her.  It was a short sword, with a small diamond in the hilt that sparkled like a star.  She’d once had one of her father’s associates appraise the diamond and he had told her that it was one of the most perfect diamonds he had ever seen.  He offered her what would have been a king’s ransom for it but truly less than what the entire blade was worth.  What he could not see was the aura that glowed around the blade.   Starblade wasn’t exactly sure what it did and something told her that asking the sage about this particular weapon would not have been a good idea.  This was the only weapon she had ever taken from her grandfather’s horde and the only one that it was likely she would use.  She grinned as she poured more of her power into the stone then set up the illusion that she had first found on it.  A bit of rust formed on the handle and the sharp blade began to look dull and nicked.  She put the blade back on the dresser she had taken it from and stood up.  She found it ironic that, had her parents known about this sword, they wouldn’t need her to cast the illusions that made the house still look respectable but it was the sword that would sustain the illusions while she was gone. 

The sun had sunk low behind the dunes that could be seen from her window and showed that it was time for her to go to work.  She took a final look at her appearance in the mirror and walked through the beads that she used in place of a door.  A slight ringing sound followed her as she left her parents house and went into the town that was just below it. 

The desert heat was cooling fast but the hard-packed dirt of the roads in the town was still warm and the heat went straight into the soles of her feet.  The adobe buildings around her still radiated heat that would likely keep the occupants warm for the rest of the night.  She walked deeper into the town and the buildings became huddled closer together, creating deep shadows that could hide a full-grown man, or several small children.  She felt small fingers fumbling at her pouch and reached over and twisted them.  The cry of pain told her that she had dislocated at least one finger and that the apprentice would likely be working at the thieves’ guild until they healed.  One less child out on the street at night would not hurt her feelings, especially if they brought back her bag of stones to their master.  Every thief in the city knew she carried her personal wealth with her but none had been able to part her with it.

She finally reached the place that had been her destination and walked inside.  The walls were beginning to look a little shabby and the place had already started to fill.

“Starblade,” the burly man behind the counter called to her.  “Glad you’re here.  Need anything before you get to work?”

“What’s for dinner?”  Starblade sat down at a seat at the bar.

“Beef stew with veggies, bread and butter, and small beer if you want it,” a fat man called from the door that led to the kitchen. “And you’ll be eatin’ everything that gets set before you.  I ain’t lettin’ you starve yourself.  You need nourishment and I know you’ll have no stomach for food by the time you get finished tonight.  You’re too skinny as it is.”  The fat man disappeared again into the kitchen.

The bartender grinned at Starblade.  “Cooks been gettin’ on me ‘bout how little you eat and how much I work you.  He’s convinced that the only time you eat is when we force it down you.”

Starblade looked down at her hands sheepishly.  “Well, it’s not the only time I eat but it is the most regular meal I get.”

The bartender looked surprised.  “Whatta you mean?  Ain’t they feedin’ you?”

Starblade shook her head.  “It’s not that they’re not feeding me, it’s what the food is.  Mother won’t eat anything but stale toast or broth, she and father had a fight a while back and father said that she was getting fat, and you know as well as I do that father never takes his meals at home.”

“Aye,” he nodded his head.  “Still seein’ her is he?”

Starblade smiled wryly.  “And mother wants me to spy for her.  I tell you, this is the only place where I can get anything like peace.”

“There won’t be much peace for you tonight, I’m afraid.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because there’s a payin’ customer as wants a private show and Mike happened to tell him that he had his own little illusionist.” The cook came through the doorway carrying a loaded tray.  He began to unload it in front of Starblade.

“Cook, that’s a bigger meal than you give the paying customers,” Starblade protested, looking at the bounty in front of her.

“Most of those paying customers don’t look like a strong wind could blow them over.”  Cook shot back at her.

Starblade rolled her eyes but began to eat the stew.  “You mother me more than any of my grandmother’s did, Cook.”

“Well, somebody’s got to do it and if that woman you live with don’t, then I guess it’s up to us as cares about you to make sure you eat proper.”  Cook leaned against the bar. 

“The only reason you let me work here is so you can make sure that I eat, isn’t it?”  Starblade grinned around a bite of bread.  “If you weren’t so worried, I’d have to take up a line of work like my father.”

“If I wasn’t sure that you wouldn’t eat proper, I would send you on to work for the king or one of them uppity nobles.  As it is, I’m rather jealous of my little illusionist.”  Mike began to fill several tankards that a serving wench brought him.  “I like having something that The Willing Wench doesn’t have.”

“And an illusionist is even respectable.”  Starblade looked down at the suddenly empty plates in front of her.  “Well, time to earn my keep.  Where should I start?”

Mike smiled at her.  “Start with the walls and then we’ll see to that paying customer.”

“Usual spot?” Starblade asked. 

“Aye,” Mike nodded.  “Should be free for as long as you should need it.  I’ll let the customer know you’ll be available in a bit.”

Starblade made her way over to the dark corner she usually sat in and focused her attention on the wall.  She made the repairs to her old illusion a lot quicker than she did to her parent’s house.  It was easy to remember what the walls had felt like when they were new and what they had looked like.  She had seen the place being built when she was a child and had first met Mike and Cook when they caught her trying to steal some sausage rolls from the kitchen the first day it opened.  The two big men had taken one look at her and set her down at one of the counters in the kitchen and filled her with as much as she could eat.  They had asked her about her family and within an hour had decided to adopt her.  She had come back every night since then, starting by working in the kitchen washing dishes and then keeping the place looking new and more prosperous as her abilities with illusion began to flourish.  She took on the odd homesick customer who wanted one more glimpse of something other than desert before their trek across the great expanse they were about to cross.  She also sent word to her uncles about the odd caravan with too much money and too few guards.

Breathing a sigh and quickly replenishing herself, Starblade pushed up from the table in the corner and walked to the bar.  “Okay, Mike, where is he?”

“Right behind you,” a pleasantly deep voice behind her said.

Starblade turned around and looked at the stranger.  He was at least six feet tall, topping her by a good six inches, with brown hair and brown eyes.  His pants were of a common cut but made out of soft wool and dyed a rich black. His shirt was of a style commonly worn by mercenaries but made out of an emerald silk that would have taken all her savings to have made.  A wealthy merc? She thought to herself.  But, no, even the wealthiest and deadliest mercenary she had seen come through the tavern had never been without their sword and the deadliest thing this man carried was a bag of gold.

“How long and what kind of illusion?”  Starblade asked him, taking in how much his clothing cost and what it said about what he could afford.

“They did say you were the consummate business woman,” the man smiled.  “Two hours and a forest glen, if you please.”

“Six gold, half up front plus Mike’s fee,” Starblade told him.  “And the six gold doesn’t buy you anything but the illusion.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything more,” the man handed her three gold pieces.  “Shall we repair to my room?”

Starblade nodded her head as she felt the edges of the coins for evidence of shaving.  The edges were perfectly smooth and felt newly minted.  As she followed the man towards the stairs, she looked down at the picture on the coin.  She was startled to see an older version of a picture her mother had in a drawer in her room. She quickly slipped the coins in a hidden pocket in the band of her pants and followed the man up the stairs.  He’s not a wealthy merc and not fashionable enough to be a noble.  A mystery, then. 

He led her to the biggest room in the inn and opened the door.  There was only one bag lying next to the bed and it was obvious that he was the only person using the room.  There was no evidence of a weapon close at hand and she became more puzzled.  There should have been guards or at least evidence of guards somewhere in the room.  Oh well, it wasn’t her job to keep track of a man throwing money around, except as a possible target for some of the more daring criminals in the city.  She should get a good look at his face so she could identify his body later in the week.

“So, what are you looking to see?”  Starblade settles herself on the floor.

“A meadow, in spring, with blooming flowers and a river nearby,” the man sits down on the bed.

“Daytime or night?”

“Midday,” the man leaned back and watched Starblade fade into the growing foliage.  The flowers began to open around him and a shaft of sunlight came through the top of the trees and he would have sworn it began to warm him.  The trickle of a stream came from an undetermined part of the “forest” that now surrounded him.  The only thing it was missing was a cloying scent that most people who had never been in a forest put in an illusion.  The only smell was from downstairs.  “Can you do anything about the smell?

“Very little.”  The smell abruptly disappeared and all that was left was the scent from the wooden floor.

The man was amazed at the amplification of the natural odors that he didn’t think she was doing consciously.  “Can you make it less dry?”

He looked at her through the illusion and her face was white and showing strain.  He was sure she was close to her limit and was seeing if he could push her just a little further.  A light mist coalesced around him and permeated the room, her face was ashen and he was sure she would not be able to do anything else for a long time.  He inverted his sight and looked at the amazing layout of magic that she had done.  Suddenly, she caught his attention by moving some magic near where she was.  She was drawing it into her!  Her face began to show less strain as he watched magic from an unknown source begin to fill her. 

He returned his sight to normal and sat there to think.  In this climate, that little trick she did with the mist could make her a fortune and being able to draw magic into her would be invaluable.  Why wasn’t she wealthy?  Why was she working here?  More questions were racing through his mind when the illusion began to fade.

“Two hours, my lord,” she pushed herself off the floor and dusted her hands off.

The man looked at the candles on the dresser next to the bed and saw that they had burned down quite a bit.  “Very well, you have earned your price.”  He handed her the rest of her fee and watched her check the edges for shaving.  “May I ask you a few questions?”

Starblade nodded her head reluctantly.  She was tired and wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep.

“Who was your teacher?”

The question startled Starblade and she looked confused.  “What do you mean ‘who was my teacher’?  I didn’t have a teacher.”

The stunned look on his face faded quickly but not before Starblade noted it and pushed it to the back of her mind to deal with later.  “I see.  So you aren’t registered with the local mage guild.”

“Of course I am.  I’m a registered hedge witch.”  She pulled a copper medallion from the waistband of her pants.

“A hedge witch?  The last time I checked, large illusions weren’t in the abilities of a hedge witch.”

“The guidelines only give minimums, my lord.  I was unwilling to waste my time with the mage guilds system of masters, journeymen and so forth so I applied as a hedge witch.”  She grinned.  “You don’t even have to show any evidence of being able to use power to be a witch.  All they want to know is the names of certain herbs that could be potentially used as poisons and a few other mundane, relatively easy to learn things.  Most of the people working for the thieves’ guild are registered as hedge witches.  Or course, if there’s a suspicious death, the first people they question are the ones on that registry.”

“I didn’t know that.  I thought most people registered as Apprentices and then tried to move up in the hierarchy.”

“Most people may.  Only, if you register as a hedge witch, you can get as powerful as you want and never have to reregister at a higher level.  You can get as powerful as you want and no one else will ever know.  Now, is that all, my lord?”  She put a little of her weariness into her voice in the hopes that he would notice and let her leave.

“Yes, yes,” he looked distracted and waved a hand at her. “Go.”

She nodded to him and removed herself quickly from his room.  She went down and sat at the bar.  One of the waitresses walked by with a steaming bowl of the stew and she felt slightly nauseous.  A glass of juice appeared in front of her with particles of condensation sliding down the glass.  Starblade looked up at Mike with total adoration.

“Now,” Mike said gruffly.  “Drink that up or you’ll get no water from the cellars.  You did more work tonight than is your want and you must be hungry.  I saw the look you gave that stew and know it would be a waste to ask you to eat it so you’re getting the juice and I don’t want to hear no complaints out of you.”

“Thanks, Mike,” Starblade drank the juice down in two swallows.  “Tonight was hard.  I think it would almost have been easier if he had asked me to work on my back.”

“Bite your tongue, little one,” Mike looked shocked.  “I didn’t like you taking on with that bard but that was your own choice.  Don’t you even think about doing it for a living.”

“I said almost.  Besides, I don’t think I would have the right attitude to keep the customers happy.”  She grinned up at Mike.  “Any idea what he is?”

Mike sighed.   “Travelin’ by hisself and has made no mention or inquiries about the desert so I’m guessing he ain’t crossing.  I think he’s from the capital, maybe even official.  Can’t tell what, yet, though.  Not pompous enough to be any kind of inspector and he don’t look like he’s traveling with any other authority but his money.  Never can tell with some of them folk, though.  My best guess is that he came this way for about the same reason as your mother.  Picked a road and just went.”

“Not worth telling the uncles about yet then.  Oh well, figured I’d ask.”  Star blade felt her energy slowly start to come back.  “I’ve been invited to go visit again soon.”

“Well, if you go, be sure to take that gem in your boot with you.”

“How did you know about that?”  Starblade gaped at Mike.

“You’re walkin’ funny,” Mike laughed.  “You always favor one of your heels when you’ve got somethin’ in one of ‘em.”

“Huh, I never realized that.”

“Don’t worry, most folks wouldn’t even notice with you but I’ve been seein’ a pattern and just figured I would take a stab at it.  You’ll be wantin’ to leave to get to that old witch, now, right?”

“Mike, if I didn’t know any better, I would swear you’re psychic.”

“I just know your habits.”  Mike patted her hand and filled a couple of mugs that had just been set on the counter.  “You best get out of here before someone starts trying to get you to show your tricks for free.”

“Right, I’m off.”  Starblade stood up and stretched.  Her back tended to knot up when she had spent a lot of energy and then sat in the same position for too long.  One of the men holding up the bar almost fell over.

“Don’t get in too much trouble tonight,” Cook called out of the kitchen.

Starblade smiled and left the tavern.  It was only an hour after midnight and there was still a moon out.  The most dangerous people in the town were still holding up their end of the bar or waiting for the big score.  No one would bother her tonight so she didn’t bother to put out her usual enchantments.  They only used a little of her energy but, until she got some rest, she was going to be shaky casting any magic.

She wound her way through the alleys as quickly as she could.  Though she was sure she wasn’t going to be in any trouble, sometimes things happened and she didn’t want to be there if she didn’t have to be.  The old witch’s home was in the nicer part of the run down part of town.  It had always been that way because people who made trouble tended to end up on the wrong side of somebody’s knife or accidentally drinking something that turned out to be toxic.  It was in everybody’s best interest if the neighborhood around the old witch’s house was a calm place where people could raise their children without too much trouble.  As long as nobody made too much noise, the city guard wasn’t likely to  be called for anything until morning, giving any problems that arose a chance to find their way out to the desert.  This close to the desert, the city guard had been taken over by the King’s Soldiers and nobody really complained.  It meant that fewer taxes had to be levied against the town to pay for keeping the peace.  The guilds tended to police their own and an outsider was often pointed out before anybody had to ask twice.  Occasionally a big or sloppy theft would occur that caused the Soldiers to get involved.  The thieves’ guild would use this opportunity to purge the ranks and keep the Soldiers from looking too closely.  Missing people tended to stay missing because, most of the time, the people who would notice they were missing didn’t want them found.

            Starblade looked around the street in front of the old witch’s house.  None of the big customers would be by until almost dawn but there was always the possibility of lurkers.  She walked up to the door and was about to knock on it when a scratchy voice called out “Come on in hon, you can help me take this stuff off the stove.”

            Pushing open the door, Starblade smiled and picked up one of the knitted hand towels that lay about the room and made her way back to the kitchen.  The woman in the back was trying to pull a whistling teakettle off the stove at the same time as a kettle of what looked like more water.   Knowing the old woman’s love for fun little acids, Starblade picked up the tea kettle and let her get the kettle.

            The woman put the kettle on the table and then took the teakettle from Starblade’s hands.  “Sit down and I’ll get us some cups.  Long night?  I expected you an hour ago.”  Two cups and an old battered teapot drifted towards the table as she opened up a wooden box.  When they settled on the table, she scooped some leaves into a little ball, dropped it in the teapot and poured water from the teakettle into it.

            “I had a customer tonight.  He wanted something special.”

            “Homesick?”

            “I guess, although, he didn’t really sound like they usually do.  Didn’t ask me if I’d ever seen a certain place, just gave a description of what he wanted.”

            “Hmm.  Did he ask any other questions?”

            “Just if I was registered and who taught me.”

            “Maybe an auditor for that fancy school but I wouldn’t really worry about it.”  The old woman poured two cups of tea and blew across the top of one of them.  “So, do I get to see the gem or did you just want to talk?”

            “I’d ask you how you knew but I’d just feel unobservant.”  Starblade leaned over and flicked open the heel of her boot. She handed the gem over to the old woman and took a sip of her tea.

            The old woman dropped the gem into the kettle of liquid.  It hissed slightly and bubbled.  The gem lifted out and dripped over the kettle.  She waited until everything had dripped off and then took the gem into her hand.  A few runes began to glow.  “Hmm…” the woman rubbed at her chin and looked at the gem.  “I’m tempted to ask where you got this from.”

            “Why?”  Starblade put her cup down.  “Is it that bad?”

            “Do you see that mark?”  The old woman pointed at one of the runes.

            “Yeah, it looks like a signature rune.”

            “That is the signature of Hadamar.”

            “Hadamar?  But he disappeared over three hundred years ago.  His tower broke when he died.”

            The old woman put the gem down.  “Do you really think he died?  How?  He was the most powerful wizard in the world.  What could have killed him?”

            “An accident?  An assassin?  He had a lot of enemies.”

            “I don’t think so.”  The old woman looked down at the gem.  “He had your people to guard him.”

            “Whatever, he disappeared but he must have left a lot of magical things around.”  Starblade nodded at the gem.  “What does it do?”

            “It’s a power sink.”

            “A what?”

            “Don’t you remember that I told you power could be stored?  Not just to power a spell but so you can dip into it and not use your own personal power?”

            “Yeah.”  Starblade took another sip.  “So that’s what this is?  Hadamar used it to store spell energy?”

            “That’s right and there’s more to it than that,” the witch smiled.  “It’s full.”