The heavy door slid shut behind him with a thump. Aaralon made an effort to brush the cat hair off of his robes, but it stuck fast. He snorted the smell of urine and unwashed animal out of his nose and spit at the foot of the door.
Back in the attic, Aaralon packed a small duffel bearing the magic school trainee emblem embossed on the side. Into the bag went the Tome of Fire Flesh and the warded pouch. As an afterthought, Aaralon tossed in enough clothes and oddities from his room to hide his prized possessions.
Late the next afternoon, the Gate guard, an elderly man by the name of Derrick, ushered Aaralon through a set of double doors and out into the wide world. It was the first time Aaralon had been outside the confines of the school in nearly fifteen years. Derrick pointed out the harbor at the base of the hill where his ride would be waiting.
The cool breeze of Lake Wakabe greeted Aaralon as he walked the gangway onto the Lady of the Mist. The ship was a single mast schooner captained by a short chunky man who grinned lopsidedly at the magic students as they made their way onto the deck. Aaralon was the last passenger to board the ship.
The captain's teeth, Aaralon noted, were completely black to match his beard. At his side, a long cherrywood smoking pipe was hung in its own custom leather holster. Behind the holster hung a truncheon studded on two sides with a series of sharp hooks.
"I imagine yer in charge of this lot?" The captain took Aaralon by the hand and shook vigorously, "We don't see much of you wee little magelings round these parts. Mostly stay cooped up behind those school walls yonder ya'll do. 'S a pleasure having ye on board."
"The pleasure is mine, captain," Aaralon said courteously. He extracted his hand from the sailor's greasy grip and nodded pleasantly as he stepped past the captain and headed for the hold to stow his belongings.
The students assembled on deck as the Lady left harbor. For Aaralon, it was his first time aboard such a vessel. He found the slow rocking sensation of the small ship decidedly uncomfortable and stood stiff-legged, gripping the rail with one hand. Aaralon noticed that he wasn't the only one. It was likely, he thought, that this was the first time aboard a ship for most of his companions as well.
The captain smiled encouragingly as he passed by his white knuckled passengers. He pulled on his beard with a thumb and forefinger, "Worry not, ye wee wizards, I'll get yer crew to the palace safely. Pirates is plaguing Wakabe this time of year, but ye'll be safe aboard the Lady." He gave the hooked truncheon at his side a little poke for emphasis.
Aaralon's "crew" consisted of Olive, Nora, and Stanton. The former two were alchemy students, and Stanton, a farmer's son who had been discovered with the gift, had not yet selected a college of magic toward which to direct his studies.
Flora, Elizabeth, and May, the oldest of the first-year students, had made their departure on a ferry the previous morning and were likely, at this time, already preparing to enter the mines.
As darkness fell, the four students sat in a tight circle near the stern of the deck, away from the crew who were busily working at the fore. The captain took up position at the helm next to them.
Aaralon had underestimated the chill of Lake Wakabe during a summer night. He pulled his student robe more tightly about him. There were a number of heat and fire incantations that would have been suitable for the occasion, but Aaralon knew the captain might be more than a bit upset if he started a blaze on the pitch-treated deck.
"I hear yer group is headed to the metil mines to find ye a pair o' princesses," The captain said, fishing the stubby cherrywood pipe out of its holster.
"That's correct, sir," Stanton replied.
"Well then, ye'd best be advised to take care down in those places." |