A Four-Way Trade
an excerpt

“And so,” she paused for effect, her bangs swinging in her eyes. “the evil queen was vanquished, her innards torn from her and hung on the castle walls like Mid-winter decorations as warning to all that treachery was not to be tolerated. Her husband’s body was unearthed from the shallow, unmarked grave and placed once more in the Great Royal crypt, that marble palace of holy ground, his death scepter replaced with new, diamonds and emeralds replacing the pearls and jade. And his beloved son, so tortured by that evil woman for all the days of his manhood, found a girl who was her opposite in every way, who could never remind him of the beast who had played with him, body and soul for so long, and he married her. He became a good king, and she was loved by all. The dragons returned to the low lands and the over burdened sheep farmers were much pleased with the reduction in their stock. As the years went by the whole kingdom prospered, but the innards of the evil queen never rotted. In death she was finally given the eternal youth she had so longed in life. In death, ever young, she will grace the great palace of the Seven Empires. And in so, be shamed forever.”
The girl leaned forward, her rough cut blond hair moving in counter point. “And that,” she whispered, her audience leaning in to catch ever word, “was how it really was.”
“Ooooh,” the children from the trading caravan breathed all at one time. A dozen pairs of round, round eyes stared at her in delight and just a little, yummy good fear.
“Is it really true?” one tiny little voice piped up, a kind of desperate quaver showing through the mock bravery.
“Oh yes,” the Storyteller said soberly, thinking quickly for a way to make the little girl unafraid. “But after a while they made someone move the evil queen around by the back door so they wouldn’t have to look at her anymore.”
"Ewwww!" they chorused and she grinned.
"You got that right."
"Hey you! Girl!"
Her head whipped around as she jumped to her feet. "Do your chores and I'll tell you another one later," she called over her shoulder as she hopped to, obeying the summons. Early on she'd learned that the Elders hadn't paid her passage, they'd just tacked her on as part of the taxes in some weird kind of way. Since then she'd done whatever she could to help out. It wasn't fair for these hard working people to have to suffer on her behalf. She was the only one allowed to do that. Carnie grinned again.
The voice had been the wagon master's so she angled toward his wagon. As she'd suspected he was standing next to it, talking to a very tall man with very long brown hair. Carnie paused a second to take in the details of the newcomer. He was taller than the wagon master, but then again who wasn't? He was definitely taller than most of the Elders and Professors from Gyro though, which was saying something. He was also very, very well muscled for his size. Not all creepy boulder of a man type muscled, but Carnie definitely got the feeling he could crush someone's head with his bare hands if he really wanted to. It was that fact which made his nearly waist length hair seem acceptable instead of feminine. And actually, Carnie decided as she tilted her head to look at it from a different angle, with the back part all braided and the bits around his face loose like that it did look king of manly and tough. In a barbarian kind of way of course.
Ooooooooh!
Carnie had a sudden revelation about the potential identity of the big scary man. He was probably a Windwalker.
But just because he's a Windwalker, doesn't mean he's your Windwalker. Maybe you don't have to go with him. Think positive.
Plastering a thoughtful, mysterious half smile on her face Carnie strode the last ten feet confidently, a slight sway in her walk. "Can I help you with something?"
The wagon master jerked his chin at the Windwalker man. "Get your things. He's come to take you in to the home camp, which is all to the good because there is no way in hell I'm going that far into Walker land."
Oh crap.
Carnie took a moment to look the big man over appraisingly, as if she hadn't already done so from afar without his knowing. Then she shrugged and headed for the back of the wagon. The entirety of her possessions, everything she owned in the world, was the clothes she was wearing, one extra set of hose, one extra tunic, a scrap of rag she used to hold her hair back sometimes and a pair of matching seashells she'd found once. It was all in a very tiny bag in the back of the wagon master's cart and she hefted it with ease. Turning back around she went back to her previous position. "So, now what?"
The big man looked down a long way at her. "Now we go find your guardians and formally take you off their hands."
Carnie looked at the wagon master, who looked back. She shrugged, he shrugged and walked off. Shrugging again Carnie looked up at the Windwalker. "Tada! You just did." she flashed a smile.
The Windwalker frowned. "I was told he was the wagon master for this caravan."
"And so he was. Why isn't that a coincidence," Carnie giggled. "He is also, sort of, in charge of me since I got dumped off on this thing in Gyro. I imagine he's rather glad you showed up."
"You traveled alone?" he asked, but Carnie got the feeling he didn't really expect her to answer him. "Then shall we go get your things?"
For some reason the way he said it made Carnie suddenly embarrassed by the tiny bundle. She held it a little closer and jerked her chin up. She could feel herself blushing slightly. "Not at all," she said in a clipped tone. "I'm ready to go."
His eyes narrowed even further, until a pair of lines creased across his forehead. But, after a moment, he nodded slowly. “Can you ride?”
“Can I? Ha!” Carnie flapped a hand dismissively. “Move along now man. We’re going to be late. Scoot!”
The tension in his face faded slightly in the face of his amusement. Placing one hand to his chest, the man bowed. “Yes, sir.”
Carnie grinned.

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Waking up at dawn was not a new concept for Veralynn. It wasn’t a pleasant concept, but it wasn’t a new one. The days she’d had early classes or early training were generally more frequent than the ones where she got to sleep in late. No, waking up at dawn was definitely not the problem. The problem was what they expected her to do once she was awake.
For the very first time in her life Veralynn didn’t start the day with physical activities of some kind. There were no pattern dances, no time even for pattern dances, and no chores. Weirdly enough the school was fully staffed with servants who handled all the day to day cooking and cleaning and whatnot. The only time the students even touched any kind of hands on work was when they found themselves in the way of punishment hours.
Punishment hours. Veralynn glared at the small, highly buffed circle of metal at the short haired brunette staring back.
Someone knocked on the door. Most likely the nosy, prissy little sixth year girl they’d set to making sure she got to all of her classes on time each day. Since she’d managed to arrive on a Last Day, there hadn’t actually been any classes that day or yesterday. She’d been told those days were supposed to be spent in quiet study on the topics for that week by the students and a chance to rest and prepare for the new week for the Professors. It all seemed a bit lazy to her, since she was used to one rest day a week, if weather, chores and food sources allowed for it. But hey, who was she to judge?
“Yes?” she called, as she crossed the bare stone floor. Her soft boots made no noise, for which she was grateful. She’d hate to have to ditch them when the floors here were so damn cold all the time.
Veralynn opened the door on the tall blond who, yes it was, had been given charge of her. The older student stared at her clothes. Or rather, stared at her bare arms. The rest of the sleeveless wrap tunic, split riding skirt and low boots seemed to all be good enough for her. Lynn pretended not to notice the disapproval. She put on her most favorite smile.
“Is it time to go?”
The blond, Veralynn could not remember what her name was even though she’d been told, nodded sharply. “You’re spending the day with First Apprentice Gollaro,” she said in a clipped, professional tone that didn’t quite come off. Turning on her heel she began walking through the building at a brisk pace.
“Well good thing I don’t need to finish dressing or anything,” Lynn muttered, racing off after her. After a second she settled into a pace, merely extending her shorter stride all the way to keep up.
“The Pedagogue and the Professors have decided that, for now, you’ll be given the same class schedule as the normal incoming forth year students. If you can’t keep up they’ll do extensive testing and tailor something to your specific skill levels until you can catch up.”
Okay, ew. She’s not even trying to pretend she likes me. But why does she seem to expect that I’ll fail? Am I giving off a stupid vibe?
The girl glanced over her shoulder when Veralynn didn’t respond.
Was I supposed to?
“Yes, sir,” she murmured, mentally rolling her eyes.
The sixth year opened her mouth, then thought better of it and closed it again. Instead she snorted derisively under her breath.
Veralynn ignored it, smiling up at the girl and clasping her hands together against the small of her back. “If I have the same class all day, when do I eat breakfast?”
This time the older girl did laugh, and it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “If you wanted to eat you should’ve gotten up earlier like the rest of us did.”
Oooh. I’m lazy then too, on top of everything else I’ve done to make you hate me, none of which I can recall right now.
“Oh,” Veralynn shrugged. “Okay then.”
“That’s it,” she pointed at a open door straight ahead across a short stretch of open courtyard.
Veralynn bowed, with a smile. “Thank you for your help, gensai.”
The other girl snorted again and left. Before turning into the classroom she threw one last look at her “helper”. Her smile frosted around the edges.
Well, well, bitch. Let’s see how long it’ll take before you’re begging to be my friend.
It was a game she played frequently and well. Veralynn had always been able to make friends with anyone she chose to. She could always make people like her. The thing of it was, the most fun part, was that Veralynn didn’t really like people. Not in general. She had scores of people she could call friend... but the number of people who could call her friend was rather smaller. For a time she’d resolved to keep it down to one hand’s worth. That wasn’t such a big goal anymore but the numbers still hadn’t gone up much. There just didn’t seem to be that many people who were willing to put in the effort.
“You’d be Veralynn then.”
She jumped and spun, rather shocked at having been caught daydreaming. Surprised that she’d been snuck up on. But then, the Dancemaster was always getting on her about that.
The man standing at ease on the cold stone smiled at her and offered his hand. Lynn only hesitated a second, after all this was a Hearthstone custom she’d only learned about yesterday, and met his grasp with hers.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he continued in that smooth tenor voice that had made her classify him as a man in stead of a boy despite his appearance. Not that he really looked like a boy, but there was a slight something that made her think he couldn’t be all that much older than her. Maybe five years?
Veralynn snorted. “Having a horse suddenly decide to sit on you while you’re brushing him is startling. You’re merely surprising.” She smiled, this one unforced and unpracticed.
The man laughed. “That’s good to know. I’m First Apprentice Gollaro by the way.”
“Oh!” Lynn winced mentally at the faint squeak in her voice. She hadn’t meant for it to happen. She clasped her hands together a few inches off her chest and bowed. “An honor, sir.”
He chuckled again. “Give it a couple of days before you say that.”
Almost against her will, Lynn felt herself snicker. “So what does it mean?” she asked as they moved toward the classroom.
“What does what mean?”
“First Apprentice.” she wrinkled her nose. “It seems all bloody important and such.”
First Apprentice Gollaro laughed again, something he seemed to do a lot, Veralynn noticed.
“It’s how we keep track of everyone. The new apprentices, the first years, are Tenth Apprentices. Second years are Ninth Apprentices. You’d be a Seventh Apprentice. The year between graduating to full status and becoming a full on Professor you get to be a First Apprentice.” he stepped back slightly to let her precede him into the room.
As a room it was unremarkable. A large stone rectangle with a pair of windows on the same wall as the door, a second, smaller door in the far corner and a generous scattering of desks and tables and chairs. What did seem remarkable was how many people were inside it. Easily two dozen students of around her age stood clustered around something on a table on the far side of the room.
“When you’re all through feeding yourselves, kindly take a seat in some manner,” Gollaro called, shutting the door behind him and heading toward the front of the room. At his words the students began to break up and spread out, giving Veralynn a glimpse of the breakfast snacks littering the table. She was suddenly seized with a serious hunger pang, but made no move toward any of it. That girl had already told her she wasn’t allowed to eat, and even if this was an impromptu extra breakfast, it was probably potluck. You bring something to share with everyone. Since she hadn’t contributed she shouldn’t join in.
She made a serious mental note to get up earlier or find out where one went to get extra food.
“Hey, new girl!” a boy called, tossing something at her.
She caught it instinctively, then dropped it, hissing in shock, anger and fear. The bright red fruit rolled away from her as she jumped back a step. The part of her brain that wasn’t frozen in completely shock was scrambling for her magical core, for the vivid alarm that would bring back her squad and get her the hell out of here!
“What the hell?” a second boy said, moving up beside his friend with another of the same fruit. He swiped it on his sleeve and took a bite.
It was all Veralynn could do to keep from slapping it out of his hand. And when he actually chewed and swallowed she felt her mouth drop open.
“It’s....” she looked between the chewing boy and the fruit she’d thrown. They were clearly the exact same fruit. But they were red! “It’s not toxic?”
Her voice was hitting those high squeaking notes again and she cleared her throat.
The boys looked surprised and then the one who’d thrown the fruit looked a little horrified. “Poisonous?” he asked, staring at the dropped fruit with wide eyes. “Why would you say that?”
Stung, and still a little high strung on adrenaline Lynn jabbed a finger at it. “It’s red! Who the hell eats red food?!”
The boy who was still munching on his fruit raised a hand, flashing a grin. “I do.”
The faint smile that inspired took the edge of for her at least. She shook her head. “It’s seriously not deadly?”
“Do I look like I have a death wish?”
“I take it red means deadly in Windwalker territory,” the First Apprentice said, joining them.
It was at that point that Veralynn realized everyone was staring at her. She felt herself blush. “I-I... until this minute I didn’t know there was red food that wasn’t fatally toxic,” she answered a little shakily. “Except fresh meat, but you have to cook that before it’s edible.”
She was definitely babbling. Lynn snapped her mouth shut, and bit her lip to seal it that way.
“Veralynn, come have a seat. Paul, could you please get her something not red for breakfast? Everyone else...” he fixed the rest of the class with a slightly amused Look.
They all went back to finding seats as Gollaro pulled out a chair for her.
“Veralynn,” the First Apprentice murmured too softly for anyone else to hear. “that flare of magic I felt... what was it?”
Roughly translated: Were you going to set my student aflame?
She hook her head. “A defense and a distraction.” She glanced around the room, and her mouth twitched. “This outnumbered my first response would be running for the hills.”
“Here,” the boy who’d tossed her the fruit in the first place, Paul apparently, showed up with her plate. He ducked his head a little, looking upset. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Veralynn let out her breath, and then to her surprise and everyone else’s, started to laugh. “Oh come on, Paul. Assassination scares are the way I like to start all my days. It helps wake me up.”
Gollaro laughed and Paul grinned. As the First Apprentice headed back to the front of the room, the boy took the seat next to her. “I don’t suppose you’d want to try it?” he held up the red fruit he’d rescued from the floor.
Veralynn gave him a dry look. “What is that anyway?”
Paul laughed lightly. “Well we call it an apple, and not all of them are red. I think I’ll call it...” he mock frowned. “the Fruit of Terror and Death though.”
She giggled. “I can see it now. ‘Hey, Revi can you pass the bowl of the Fruit of Terror and Death?’”
“Who’s Revi?” the second boy with his nearly finished apple dropped into the chair on her other side.
“Now then,” Gollaro said from the front, claiming everyone’s attention. “as you’ve all probably noticed, we have a new student. Seventh Apprentice Veralynn of the Windwalkers.”
Veralynn put on her very best Mysterious Windwalker face, then ruined it by smiling and giving a little wave. She could always resort to pure intimidation later if she wanted to.
“Treat her nicely and she might even let us in on more useful information. Like, if she ever offers you a red fruit run like hell,” he winked at her and Veralynn cracked up.
“Yes, sir.” She sank back into her chair, laughing.
“Oh, hey, I’m Tegret in case you were wondering,” the boy on her left whispered as Gollaro started going around, handing out graded homework.
“You know, I just could not get my mind off that exact mystery,” she said back, matching tone and volume.
“I know,” Tegret mock preened. “I’m practically irresistible.”
Veralynn glanced over at Paul and shook her head. “Do you want to tell him or should I?”
“Hey!”
“She has you there, Teg,” Paul snickered. “Left yourself wide open for it.”
“Are these miscreants bothering you, Veralynn?” Gollaro asked as he handed Tegret a sheet of paper.
She frowned and seemed to consider it as the First Apprentice searched for Paul’s homework. “No, I guess not.”
Tegret let out a loud sigh and sank limply into his seat. “Oh good. I thought I was going to have to find another seat for a second there.”
Veralynn looked around at the half dozen empty seats within ten feet of their current position and rolled her eyes.
“Now, who wants to tell me what you got for question one?” Once more Gollaro headed to the front of the room.
“Here,” Paul murmured, shifting his paper so she could follow along.
She smiled. “Thanks.”