Prime, p.6
Prime, page 6
He pulled out the last items: several pairs of underwear. Still white, but why were they shiny?
She looked over his shoulder. “Interesting.”
His first instinct was to close the bag.
He said, “What?”
She slipped a delicate finger under an edge of the cloth. “Silk knickers.”
His face was hot as he closed the sack.
She giggled and walked over to her table. “Fatha has set up a series of classes and exercises. Ye will spend the mornings with him and the afternoons with me. Fatha is waiting.”
He remembered. “Wait a second,” he reached into his bag and pulled out the note. “This is for you.”
“Ooh. From Chase?”
Great. Everybody loves Chase.
They walked through the corridors and halls while she read the letter. He remembered part of the way, but was glad she came along.
He walked by the door when Teacher said, “Tobias.”
“Yes, sir, I mean Teacher.”
Toby found an old stool but stood up when Raymond entered.
This had better be some stupid mistake.
“Raymond will assist in your training.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Not your decision.”
Raymond walked over to a desk and looked at some beakers filled with various fluids.
“After everything he did to me?”
“Raymond did his job,” Teacher said. “It’s necessary.”
“What?”
“Enough.” Teacher leveled his gray eyes at Toby. “I’ve been more than patient, and we’ve wasted enough time.”
Teacher turned toward his desk, walked around a pile of books on the floor to his desk, piled with random appearing stacks of books and scrolls.
“There are many things you do not understand.”
Toby waited, but the old guy didn’t elaborate.
As Teacher chose something for Toby to read, Toby glanced back at the criminal, but this Raymond was so different. It’s not the clothes. He’s playing a role: dutiful son helping Daddy at work.
“Your father showed such promise, as did your brother.” He stopped for a moment. “We were - disappointed.”
Teacher turned pointing at a stool across the room. “Sit.”
Toby sat on the old stool; it leaned at an uncomfortable angle. He watched the old man limp around the random stacks of books and scrolls, except it wasn’t random: Teacher knew the location of every scrap.
Raymond carried in a box holding several foul-smelling bottles.
“Whoa.” Toby jerked his head away from the putrid source.
Teacher’s head snapped toward Toby. “Do you think I am an ox, Candidate?”
“No, sir, I mean, no, Teacher. Those bottles reek.”
“As they should. Each has important properties you will learn.”
“Time out, old dude.”
Teacher straightened his ruined back, grew several inches taller, and his gray eyes narrowed to slits. The stare seemed to go on for days.
“You will stop trying my patience.”
Toby swallowed and sat in silence.
Teacher picked up a book and placed it on the desk. “Most preschoolers know more about the Messenger than you. Spend the next hour reading about the Prime Amulet. When I get back, we will discuss the functions.”
“Dad already told me about the Prime.”
“Did he? How do you activate the screen?”
“What?”
He tapped a bony finger on the book. “And read the section on shifting.”
“I know how to shift.”
Teacher nodded. “You meant to time-shift 12 hours into the future?”
“I... No.”
Teacher shook his head. “We’ve had the Prime for many centuries. We’d prefer you not shift it into a mountain, or miles out to sea.”
Toby read the parts about the jewels and the metal, but his mind kept seeing images of Mom lying in the hospital, fighting for her life because of this - knickknack.
Shook his head.
Concentrate.
If he’d flown here, they’d call it jet lag. The sun said morning, and his brain said sleep. He refocused on the book, but the writing was dense and indigestible.
Jerked awake.
No one noticed.
One page had lists of ancient symbols for Messengers: The Greek word ‘angel’ means messenger. Romans believed Mercury was the messenger of the gods. Celts thought hawks were supernatural messengers.
A sharp rap on the tabletop caused him to wake up and nearly fall off the stool. Toby found his balance and looked into a pair of angry gray eyes.
“You sleep well?” asked Teacher.
“No. I mean, yes. I... Sorry, Teacher.”
“Sorry, is no excuse.” He picked up the book, closed it with a sharp snap, and tossed it at Toby. “Maybe physical activity is more interesting. Read the chapter tonight. Tomorrow,” he said through narrowed eyes, “you will be ready.”
Teacher turned and walked away. Without stopping or looking back, “You will find her in the Keeper’s room.”
VI
Lela fired, loaded, and fired a crossbow in one fluid motion.
Without looking his way, she said, “I expect ye to do this by Friday.”
She turned and looked at him.
He looked down at the boots.
“It’s not the boots. Follow me.” She led him through several corridors through the west wing to a rooftop garden of brown grass and bare trees dusted with snow.
Facing south, the sun warmed the left side of his face and the constant wind from the alpine glaciers chilled the other side.
Just inside the southern section of curtain wall was an open parade ground. Further south stood stands of trees, many looking more like ferns.
To the north was part of the kitchen and storage buildings. Outside the curtain wall further north sat a random collection of structures that progressed from buildings to hovels, shanties, and tents
“Coldtown,” Lela said. “I hope we’ll have no business in there.”
He pointed west to a line where no plants grew, and it curved north and south to the horizon. A closer look revealed a bluish tint, extending to the sky. “What is that?
She shook her head.
“What?”
“They really told you nothing. That is the Barrier, and ye can read the rest.”
She slipped off her coat. Underneath was a dark blue tunic that accentuated her curves. She began stretching, much to Toby’s distraction.
“Ye want to cramp?” She extended arms and legs in a series of languid movements. “Stretch.”
“Oh.” He slipped off the cloak and tried to ignore wind.
She started jogging around the perimeter, so he followed.
“We know ye aren’t,” she searched for a word, “athletic, but after a few weeks, ye will either be stronger or too tired to care.”
She picked up the pace and spent no energy at all.
His side cramped.
“Ye need to breathe.”
He concentrated on moving air.
He could not keep up the pace.
“In through yer nose, out through the mouth.”
“I know — how — to breathe.”
She shrugged. “Suit yerself.”
He tried her trick, and his chest felt better. Not that he’d admit it.
She stopped, picked up a medicine ball, and fired it at him.
He braced for the impact and went down in a heap.
She stood there as if nothing happened. “This will strengthen yer arms and chest while teaching balance. Or ye will learn how to fall.”
He stood up and picked up the ball. She put out her arms, signaling for him to throw.
Put everything behind the throw.
She took the full force in the chest.
She fired.
Toby took the full force in the chest, and landed on his back.
They spent the next half hour doing a wide variety of exercises that fatigued muscles Toby didn’t know he had.
“Let’s take a break,” she said.
“Sure,” between heaving breaths as he leaned against a wall, “if - you’re tired.”
On one side of the rooftop garden was a small fountain. The gurgling water sounded inviting.
Each chose a small wooden cup and took turns catching the water from the fountain. He drained the first cup, then another.
“Don’t make yerself sick.”
She walked over to the eastern wall. “See that tree?”
In the distance, just outside the Barrier, near a dense stand of trees, stood a taller tree, with fan shaped leaves. “Looks like a general, standing in front of her army, ready to lead them into battle.”
“Do you think of anything but weapons and war?”
She smiled. She held his gaze for a moment. “Sometimes.”
He looked out at the tree and wondered what-
VII
Squeezed.
He spun around. A tree with fan shaped leaves stood alone to his right, a dense stand of smaller trees to his left. Some twiggy shrubs and clumps of dead grass clung to the windswept dirt. Snow embraced the trunks and buried the shady spots. The icy wind blew through his shirt, now damp with sweat.
What the....
He saw a castle behind a bluish shimmer about a kilometer away.
A twig snapped in the woods off to his right.
No movement.
The wind whispered through the bare branches.
More twigs snapped behind the trees far to the right.
Bent down but saw nothing moving, and he resisted the urge to go into the woods to investigate.
Something flapped behind him; it was a blackbird with a peculiar glowing spot on its chest. It landed on a high branch and watched him.
Hermes?
The sound in the woods grew louder.
Toby started walking toward the Castle.
“Shift back,” said Raymond.
“What?”
“Now!” He reached out to grab Toby with one stubby, meaty hand.
“Leave me alone!” Toby snatched his arm away.
Raymond’s arms encircled Toby, and in an instant, they were in Teacher’s study.
Toby shoved Raymond, who hit the floor like wet laundry.
Teacher ran to his side and turned him over. A long, deep gash glistened across his back. Raymond didn’t moan or say anything; he sucked in air when Teacher pulled away the torn shirt, now sticky with blood.
“What happened?” Toby asked.
“Silence!” Teacher pulled out something from his desk, pointed it at Raymond.
It looked like another amulet. Teacher did something, and Raymond lifted off the floor. Teacher then started walking, and Raymond floated out the door as if he was on an invisible stretcher.
Teacher pointed to that small stool. “Sit!”
About an hour later, Teacher returned.
“Raymond will survive. The poisons were still on the surface.”
“He–”
“Stop! What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“How did you get out there?”
Oh. “I guess I shifted outside the Barrier.”
“You guess?”
“I shifted.”
“On purpose?”
“No.”
He nodded, but those awful gray eyes stayed slits. His teeth stayed clenched. “Why did you shift?”
“I...” He shrugged.
“Because you were sloppy!” Teacher’s hand slammed down on the desk
Toby stepped back.
Teacher stepped over the new red stain on the floor.
Toby took several steps backward.
“Careless! Irresponsible!” He stopped as if his emotions clotted his thinking, and he stormed out.
Lela leaned against the door frame; she had his cloak.
“Here.” She tossed the garment. “Fatha will calm down.”
“I didn’t mean for Raymond to get hurt.”
“I know. We need to finish the workout.”
They walked back toward the garden. “What happened to him?” Toby asked.
“It was-” She shook her head “Ye have enough nightmares.”
They spent the next hour doing exercises, then she pulled out the Messenger’s sword.
“The longbow is effective to about 200m. Crossbow to about 50m. The broad sword for 5m. A boot knife is best in close.”
He reached over, but she placed the weapon back in the rack. She handed him a small, short broom.
“Before ye can run, ye learn to crawl.” She picked up a second broom and grabbed the end with a two-fisted grip. “We will start with a two-handed technique and move to other techniques.”
“Why can’t I use my sword?”
“So ye don’t cut off yer ear on the first day.”
She assumed a stance with her right foot forward; her toes pointed at him; her left foot was back with her foot angled to the side. She lowered her chin and smiled. “Defend yerself.”
He raised the broom.
She disarmed him with a flurry of blows to his broom, arm, and wrist.
“Anticipate yer opponent, or ye will die.” She stepped back. “Pick it up. Position yerself like this.” She again assumed the position.
He tried to copy, but she stuck his shin.
“Hey!”
“Like - this.” She assumed the position.
Toby tried again. After the third try, she didn’t hit him.
She showed the proper technique for advancing and retreating without leaving exposures.
An hour and several bruises later, he could fend off her first thrusts in two out of five tries.
He took a break to get some water. He could barely move his fingers, and some blisters no longer hurt.
Was that a good sign?
“Enough for one day. Put away the equipment.
He put the broom on the rack and–
“No!”
He jumped and looked for the danger.
The broom must have fallen over. He picked it up and placed it in the spot.
“Ye will treat the equipment with respect.”
“It’s a broom.”
She grabbed his arm. “Am I clear?”
“Yes, Keeper.”
Her anger melted away.
She stood much closer and touched his arm. Her perfume demanded his attention. “Ye understand, right?”
To the west, a few crepuscular rays decorated the sky.
Lela looked at something.
She pointed toward her favorite tree. “He’s back.”
A large hawk landed on a high branch.
“He’s tame, too.”
“Wow.”
“He will perch on my arm.”
“Will he fly to us?”
“Oh, he never comes across.”
“But...”
“Don’t tell Fatha,” she looked around, “I sneak out to him.”
She looked longingly back at the bird. Her face suddenly brightened. She looked at Toby as if she were about to ask something, but then she shook her head and looked away.
“What?” he said.
“No, it’s too much to ask.”
“What?”
She gazed lovingly at her bird. “I haven’t seen him in so long.” She smiled at toby, “But if I try to cross on foot, some stupid Guard will report me.”
“You want me to shift you?”
She grabbed his arm, giggled, and pulled herself closer.
Toby’s pulse fluttered, but after what happened to Raymond. “Is it safe?”
“Oh.” She stepped back.
“It’s just that...”
The hawk flew away, and she watched until he was out of sight. She took his arm. “How about some dinner?”
“Um, okay.” His stomach had been asking that question for an hour.
She led the way to the dining hall, through the line, and to a quiet table in the back.
She talked of her life here.
He talked about his life there and didn’t know he could talk so much.
After dinner, they picked up his transformed bookbag in the Keeper’s Room, and she showed him to his sleeping area in the south tower.
“Where do you stay?” he asked.
She pointed to the opposite side of the castle. “Near the North Tower. Someone will wake ye at sunrise.”
She reached over, squeezed his arm. “G’night.”
He climbed the narrow, spiral stairs to the top and pushed open the creaking door, revealing a small round room with four open windows.
The frigid wind blew through the north window.
The bed was a wood frame and the mattress looked like a sack, filled with hay, on a rope lattice.
He tossed his bag into a corner and knocked over a chamber pot.
What do you do with the-
Nope. Didn’t even want to ask.
He put a blanket on top of the hay and tried to lie down. After a while, he didn’t notice the poking or the itching.
Well, not as much.
The first blast rocked the tower and nearly threw him to the floor.
Hands over his ears, he looked out the south window for anything, but it was a cloudy night. The blasts seem to come north to south and then back, like strafing runs.
All sound, no flash.
He jumped every time.
He put his fingers in his ears, which only helped when the One hit further away.
This happens every night.
The blasts continued for too long, and just as suddenly, everything was as quiet as a snowstorm.
VIII
Toby thought he heard something, like a toddler with pots and pans.
The sound grew louder, so he tried to pull his blanket up over his head.
Something was wrong with his mattress, and he was freezing. He tried to roll over, but everything was wrong.
“Ge’ up!” said a strange voice.
Toby opened one eye. He blinked twice and couldn’t see much. A piece of straw picked that moment to introduce itself to his ear canal.
He sat up to remove the offending item. Stiff, sore muscles punished any sudden movements.
