season avatars 01 - seasons beginnings Read online

  A puzzled look appeared in the boy’s eyes. “What does hurt mean?”

  Kron frowned. “Haven’t you ever fallen, or cut yourself?”

  “No.”

  Further questioning revealed he’d never been hurt at all; his potent

  magic had always protected him. Kron wondered how Salth disciplined

  him—if she even did. She had to know that a powerful, untrained ma-

  gician with a child’s impulses could wreak an unimaginable amount of

  damage.

  “Where’s your mother?”

  “Back near the mountains.” He said it casually, as if the mountains

  were next door instead of close to the Magic Institute. Sal-thaath tried

  to break free. “Can I go home now?”

  “Only if you take me with you. I need to speak to your mother.”

  “Does this mean you’re going to be my father?”

  Kron didn’t know how to answer that question. He didn’t want to

  take responsibility for this child, but someone had to tame him before

  people were hurt. He broke the thread. “Let’s go.”

  C H A P T E R T W O

  Salth

  Sal-thaath took Kron’s hand, but he didn’t lead him to a portal. Be-

  fore he could blink, they arrived at the foothills of the Western

  Mountains, thousands and thousands of furlongs from Vistichia. Pine

  trees scented the air, and an eagle plunged into a nearby stream, emerg-

  ing with a fat fish. “Your country is beautiful,” Kron said, wishing

  privately that Sal-thaath would stay here instead of traveling to

  Vistichia at will. “I didn’t know you can travel without a portal.”

  “It’s easy.” Sal-thaath danced, crushing delicate wildflowers under-

  foot. He gripped Kron’s hand with all six fingers. “This way, behind the

  trees.”

  Salth’s home looked as if a stone house from Thaume, the city near

  the Magic Institute, had swallowed an abandoned farmhouse. Kron

  wondered why she’d bothered to graft the two together. There was no

  one here to appreciate her magical talent. Perhaps she’d done it for the

  challenge. She’d always been like that, as if she needed to prove her

  worth by seeking out the most difficult tasks.

  Sal-thaath led Kron inside the farmhouse section. The single large

  room was cluttered, with dirty dishes of various types piled in the dusty

  hearth. The room smelled moldy, and flies buzzed everywhere. Sal-

  thaath raced through the room to the marble section. “Mother,” he

  called, “come see! I’ve found a father!”

  “I’m not your father, child,” Kron muttered under his breath.

  Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 1 7

  The marble section of the house was as neat as the farmhouse was

  chaotic. Shelves of scrolls and tablets lined the walls from floor to ceil-

  ing. Water clocks, sun dials, and striped candles formed an obstacle

  course. Salth herself hadn’t changed. She aimed a sight-enhancer—

  Kron recognized the piece as one he’d made—out of the window as if

  searching for a new star. Next to the sight-enhancer was a scroll with

  marks arranged in an uneven circle. Salth’s limbs were as thin and an-

  gular as ever, though she had gained matronly curves. Her reddish-

  brown skin looked sallow, as if she hadn’t been outside in moons. Her

  only feminine traits were her luxurious hair, caught in a jeweled hair

  net, and the twisted lines tattooed on her cheeks and hands. Despite the

  noise Sal-thaath made as he brandished a stick and knocked over scrolls

  and tablets, his mother didn’t look away from the sight-enhancer.

  It must be working well. Kron itched to inspect his old artifact, but

  he said nothing and waited for Salth to look up.

  After a hundred or so heartbeats, Sal-thaath swung his stick so that

  it struck the sight-enhancer. Kron leaped forward, arms extended, to

  catch it, but Salth maintained her firm grip. “Sal-thaath, be more care-

  ful!” She finally turned her head, blinked a few times, then started as

  she stared at Kron.

  “I know you,” she said. “You were at the Magic Institute, weren’t

  you? Who are you again, and what are you doing here?”

  “I’m Kron. Kron Evenhanded.” He dipped his head. “My specialty

  is enchanting objects.”

  “Ah, yes, I remember. Knickknack work.”

  Kron’s smile slipped. “Like the sight-enhancer you’re using? I made

  it.”

  “Is that true?” She examined the bronze tube, decorated with a scene

  of boats in a harbor. “Pretty shell, simple magic.”

  “If it’s so simple, why not make your own sight-enhancer?”

  She sniffed. “I have more important things to do than make tools. If

  you’d actually bothered to use your sight-enhancer to look past the

  clouds, you’d know something is coming that will affect us all.”

  1 8 · S a n d r a U l b r i c h A l m a z a n

  Kron didn’t respond. Salth liked to think she knew more about magic

  than even her instructors. That was why she’d chosen to leave the Magic

  Institute—that, and her refusal to teach, claiming only slaves taught oth-

  ers.

  “Don’t you even want to know what I’m talking about?” she asked.

  “If it’s that important, I’m sure I’ll find out eventually.”

  Her frown hardened. “You don’t believe me, do you? Never mind,

  then. Talk is a waste of time. I never have enough time for all I want to

  study. There must be a way to find more time. Look at how much of it

  Nils waste, and they seldom make it to forty or fifty years when they

  could live much longer.”

  Nils? Does she mean people? Ordinary people, like Phebe and

  Bella?

  Sal-thaath took a few steps forward. “I thought you said Nils don’t

  have magic, Mother, so how could they live longer?”

  “They do have some in their souls. Not much, a few drops compared

  to the double-mighty waterfalls we carry. But there are so many of them

  that they would make a nice source of magic for the magician double-

  smart enough to figure out how to collect it—or their time.” Her eye-

  brows knitted together as she glowered at Kron. “What are you still

  doing here, Kron?”

  “We need to talk.” Kron tilted his head at Salth’s son. “Sal-thaath,

  why don’t you go play for a while so I can talk to your mother?”

  “Will you play with me afterwards?”

  “We’ll see.”

  Sal-thaath disappeared. Kron waited until he could no longer feel

  the boy’s magical residue in the air before saying, “Salth, you have to

  do something about your son.”

  She had already returned to her scroll. “Why? He’s a fine boy, dou-

  ble-strong, double-smart, and many-powerful,” she said, not even

  looking up at him.

  We’re equals out here, no matter how strong she thinks her magic

  is. She has no right to treat me with more contempt than I’d give a first-

  Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 1 9

  year apprentice. And she’s not going to listen to me if she has a scroll

  in her hand. Kron strode to her and jerked her scroll away. She shrieked

  and reached for it, but he held it out of her reach. Only when hostile

  magic built between them did he say
, “Sal-thaath is too powerful, and

  he has no sense of right and wrong. He’s more powerful than I am; he

  could destroy a city.”

  “So? What are a few more or less Nils? They breed like animals.”

  “Is magic all you care about? Don’t you care about Sal-thaath?”

  The anger in Salth’s eyes softened. “He’s many-talented. I’ve

  learned much about time from watching him grow. And when he grows

  up, he and I will study magic together and peer into the heart of it.”

  “Maybe, but even you can’t teach him everything. The Magic Insti-

  tute won’t take him if he can’t tolerate others. Then how will he master

  his magic?”

  “Master his magic? He is magic.” She leaned forward, her eyes

  gleaming with green light. “I always wondered if it would be possible

  to breed without a partner. It took several tries and a lock of my favorite

  brother’s hair, but I managed to create life in myself.”

  Kron wondered if Salth’s brother had had six fingers instead of five.

  Maybe Salth hadn’t been as successful as she thought. Instead, he

  asked, “Your favorite brother?”

  “There were many of us in the harem—too many. Most of them were

  cruel, caring only for power, seeking favor with our father. Only Tham

  looked out for me when I was Sal-thaath’s age. He was pushed down

  some stairs when I was eleven. I still think Aksam did it, that bastard.

  No wonder he won the throne. A plague to all who sit on it.” Although

  her voice had remained even and calm, she turned her head away for a

  moment before continuing, “Anyway, I wasn’t going to mate with any-

  one weaker than me, Nil or magician. That includes you.” Glancing

  away from him, she crooked her forefinger. The scroll in Kron’s hand

  tugged at his grip like a fish on a line. He tried grasping it with both

  hands, but the pressed plant leaves seemed to exude grease. The scroll

  slipped away and sailed back to its mistress’s hand.

  2 0 · S a n d r a U l b r i c h A l m a z a n

  Salth’s eyelids lowered in satisfaction before she glared at him

  again. “You’ve wasted enough of my time. Go, and leave us alone!”

  She didn’t gesture, so Kron was unprepared as she transported him

  out of the room and dumped him into the river. Cursing, Kron leapt out

  before the tools and powders in his belt pouches were ruined. The cold

  water made his tunic cling uncomfortably. He’d never been good at

  cleaning with magic, so he had to brush off the mud by hand.

  High-pitched laughter from overhead startled him. “That was funny.

  Do it again,” Sal-thaath said as he floated down to Kron’s eye level.

  “No.” The soft grass was cool, but the soil crumbled under Kron’s

  feet; he’d lost a sandal. “Go find my other sandal, please.”

  “Please? What does that mean?”

  Did Salth teach her child anything besides magic? “It’s a nice way

  to ask someone to do something for you.”

  “Oh, I’ve never heard that before.” Sal-thaath whistled, and Kron’s

  sandal plopped next to him.

  Kron wiped off both sandals on the grass, then picked the laces out

  of the leather soles. In bare feet, he trudged along the river until he

  found a few suitable pieces of driftwood. While it would have been eas-

  ier to ask Sal-thaath to send him home, Kron preferred to leave using

  his own magic.

  “What are you doing?” Sal-thaath asked as Kron lashed two

  branches together.

  “Making a portal back to my workshop.”

  “Aren’t you staying?”

  “I can’t.” He had to decide what to tell Phebe about her chicken,

  then he had to warn the other residents of Vistichia to avoid any strange

  six-fingered boys they saw.

  “That’s all right. Mother never has much time for me either.” Sal-

  thaath’s shoulders drooped as he turned away.

  Kron couldn’t help but feel sorry for the child, unnatural or no. He

  had no one else for company besides a magic-obsessed mother. Kron

  Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 2 1

  searched through his sack until he pulled out a flat cloth ball. “Come

  here.”

  The boy backed up, passing through a stump without bumping into

  it. “Why?”

  “I have something for you, but you have to grab it with both hands

  to key it to you.”

  Sal-thaath took the cloth and stared at it. “I feel magic in it. What

  does it do?”

  “Drop it, and you’ll find out.” Kron grinned.

  Sal-thaath dropped the ball on the ground, where it inflated and

  bounced up to him.

  “It’ll always come back to you now,” Kron said. “Toss it to me.”

  Sal-thaath’s throw was so far off Kron couldn’t move to intercept

  the ball in time. It rolled into the river, but then it rolled back out, leav-

  ing a trail of mud as it returned to Sal-thaath. By the time he picked it

  up, the ball was dry and bouncy again.

  Sal-thaath beamed. “Thanks, Kron!” He floated off, bouncing his

  ball.

  With a sigh, remembering his boyhood in Delns, Kron finished tying

  the portal together. He willed it to open onto a hidden spot by the docks,

  crawled through, and collapsed it from the other side. No sense making

  it too easy for Sal-thaath to return to Vistichia.

  C H A P T E R T H R E E

  An Apprentice?

  The next day, instead of selling artifacts in the marketplace, Kron

  prepared more of them in his makeshift shelter. Rather than paying for

  a room at the inn, he’d twined sticks and boards together, then en-

  chanted them to keep him safe, warm, and dry. While he needed to

  barter his wares for meals and a better place to sleep, not to mention

  passage to Delns, he wasn’t ready to encounter Phebe in the market-

  place. What should he tell her about Sal-thaath? She had no magic to

  keep him away. Even the city-king’s magician wasn’t powerful enough

  to control—or destroy—Sal-thaath. Kron certainly wasn’t.

  “Kron! Here you are!” Sal-thaath’s voice made Kron drop his chisel.

  A heartbeat later, the boy appeared and squatted next to a pile of drift-

  wood. “I’ve been searching all over the city for you! Is this a game?”

  “A game? No. I’m making finders.” Maybe if he talked to Sal-thaath

  and showed him interesting things, he could keep the boy from playing

  tricks on Phebe again—or Bella.

  He showed Sal-thaath the finder: a finger-length ash arrow pinned

  to an oak base. A quartz crystal nestled in an indentation in the base.

  Sal-thaath splayed his thumb and five fingers over the finder. He

  touched first the arrow, then the crystal. “There’s no magic in here.”

  “I haven’t put it in yet. Watch.” Kron unpinned the arrow and took

  it in his left hand. He grasped the base in his right, then he moved his

  arms straight out to each side. He closed his eyes to focus his will. The

  Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 2 3

  ash to seek and the oak to know. The ash to seek and the oak to know.

  The ash to seek…

  Kron’s arms were trembling by the time the pieces of the finder grew

  warm. He plunged them into
a bowl of water and held them there until

  the quartz glowed. He dried them off, then pinned them back together.

  “Now the arrow will always point to the nearest source of water, no

  matter who holds the finder.” He gave the finder to Sal-thaath. “Go on,

  try it.”

  Sal-thaath floated around the shelter, testing the finder. No matter

  where it was, the ash arrow always pointed towards the bowl. “Double-

  clever!” he said as he dropped the finder on the ground. “This is a kind

  of magic Mother and I never used before!”

  Kron smiled. It felt good to have another magician praise his work.

  And if he impressed Sal-thaath with his magic, maybe he could teach

  him some respect for others, even people without magic. Then he

  wouldn’t have to worry about Phebe’s temper and could visit Bella

  again.

  “Sal-thaath, if you promise to be careful, you can stay and watch me

  make other magical instruments. You might even be able to help me.”

  “Could I! I promise; please let me stay.” The boy’s eyes shone with

  excitement. “This is more fun than catching birds in the forest.”

  And safer for the birds too. “All right, but remember not to hurt an-

  ything – or anyone. Now, let’s start by sorting out the pieces to these

  finders you jumbled together.”

  For the next week, Sal-thaath visited Kron every day. Sometimes he

  stayed for only as long as it took for water to drop a level in the water

  clock, sometimes all day. Sal-thaath was always willing to do whatever

  Kron asked, whether it was to fetch wood or water or organize his ma-

  terials. But instead of physically hauling the wood or water, he

  transported it from the closest source. “This is easier,” he said when

  Kron tried to explain the value of physical labor. In return, Kron shared

  his meals with him, taught him how to make a few simple magical in-

  struments, and listened to him chatter. Kron only sold his artifacts in

  2 4 · S a n d r a U l b r i c h A l m a z a n

  the marketplace when Sal-thaath wasn’t with him. Word had spread

  about what his finders could do, so he now sold a couple of artifacts

  each time he visited the marketplace. But instead of moving into the

  inn, Kron stayed in his shelter, not only to save for more supplies and

  passage to Delns, but to keep Sal-thaath away from other people as

  much as he could.