Acclayne Book 1: The Game Begins
Chapter 13

Malcolmwas a hopeless case when it came to practising magic, or so Methynhad decided. The two of them had been awake for over an hour and hehad still not yet grasped the basic concept of boiling water throughapplied magic. It was not a vital skill to learn but Malcolm hadrefused to give up and was currently commandeering the small kettleto practice, which would have been all well and good, Methynconceded, if the boy was actually getting anywhere. Instead, theywere without boiling water and Methyn could feel himself going intowithdrawal. At this stage he would even have been satisfied with acold cup of tea.

Methyn watched theyoung boy as he stared intently at the little metal pot. His eyeswere focused and unblinking. He had the willpower, that was certain,but he seemed unable to release his flow of magical energy.

The kettle made a small“blop” noise.

“YES!” Malcolm letout an exclamation of joy, but there was no further action frominside the kettle.

“You broke yourconcentration.” Methyn stated, and without so much as glancing atthe kettle he called it towards him through the air. The water wasboiling by the time it reached him. “You must keep concentrating.”He held out his cup and the kettle poured the hot water as if heldaloft by an invisible waiter.

“I've been staring atit for ages now and, well, nothing.”

“That's because youhaven't developed adequate control of your internal energy- it's notso much about concentrating on what you want the object to do, butwhat you want your energy to do.” Methyn's teaspoon stirred his teaas he spoke.

“You don't look likeyou're concentrating at all.”

“Idon't have to think about it too much. I've had a lot of practice,and it's not exactly difficult.” He sipped at his tea, across fromhim Malcolm looked crestfallen. “Besides,” he added between sips,“I reallywanted this cup of tea.” He smiled, “Practise, I promise that'sall it takes.”

Methyn couldn'tremember ever struggling with energy control, he had always been ableto visualise it with ease. He imagined that being so effortlesslyclever, yet being unable to do this one simple thing must beextremely frustrating; especially when someone like Kaylaerconstantly rubbed it in your face. Yet despite that Malcolm remainedenthusiastic and eager; Methyn admired him for it.

“Can I try a littlelonger? Please?” Malcolm reached for the kettle.

“Okay, just untilit's time to pack up.” He admired him for it now that he had hiscup of tea at least.

***

Inside the girls' tentKaylaer began to stir. Problems with shoddy tent construction had ledto the three girls having to share a tent. For the usuallyanti-social Kaylaer this was an issue, it would probably have beenmore of an issue; however, if she hadn't feared being eaten alive bySibbrats while she slept. Despite having realised that Juney was anassassin within a few hours of meeting her, she felt safer when shewas around. Not that she would ever admit that to anyone. So when sheturned over and opened her eyes to replace an empty spot where Juneyshould have been, she felt an uneasy feeling in her stomach.

Alaina was sleepingsoundly on the other side of the tent, but Kaylaer reasoned that shewould be about as much protection against a Sibbrat as a crash helmetmade of jelly. She sighed angrily to herself, she still didn'tunderstand why they'd had bring Alaina along in the first place. Sofar she was shaping up to be a mockery of everything her mother hadstood for. It was insulting. To make matters worse it seemed that itwas only she who seemed to realise it; as if the others were blindedby the novelty of travelling with a pseudo-celebrity. Celebrity that,in Kaylaer's mind, she had no right to claim.

Kaylaerremained lying on the floor- unsure of whether or not she shouldventure out of the relative safety of the tent. Listening for anysuspicious rustling sounds outside, she could hear Malcolm chatteringaway- she assumed that their professor was with him. Ofall the peopleshe mused. Malcolm was the smartest kid in the whole school- everyoneknew it, but he was useless. Kaylaer didn't get it. She never reallytried hard at anything but it was all so easy, well doingmagic was anyway. She didn't understand the ins and outs of it, hadno interest in the history, all she knew was that if she wanted togive someone a wedgie from across the room- she could. With her eyesclosed. While eating a sandwich. It wasn't difficult, but from whatshe could gather from their conversation, Malcolm was having problemsboiling water. Hadn't they learnt that in first year? Mother alive.

As she was shaking herhead in disbelief a thud came from outside as something soft andheavy hit the ground.

“Argh! What thehell?” Kaylaer smirked at her teacher's reaction and climbed out ofthe tent.

***

I awoke that morning tobright sunlight and what smelt like rancid wet dog. I sat up andheaved, luckily nothing came up- Juney would probably kill me if Igot throw up all over her tent. Taking a moment to come aroundproperly I noticed that I was alone in the tent; everyone was alreadywide awake outside- and there seemed to be a bit of a commotion.

“What's going on?”I rubbed my eyes and stumbled out into the morning sunlight. I stillhadn't quite gotten used to the light here. It was brighter than athome, but not so much that I couldn't see, it almost felt... thicker?Which in any normal circumstance would be a ridiculous way todescribe it, but that's how it was. Sunrises were a marvel, the lightwas like honey dripping down over the mountains in the distance,before pooling in the valley where we currently were. I could almostswear that the shadows were shorter- as if the light had somehowseeped into them.

“You expect us to eatthat?” I looked to where Methyn was pointing and almost heavedagain.

“Haha, cool.”Kaylaer wasn't the least bit phased.

“I'm not having mystudents eat that! They could catch all sorts.”

“Are you saying thatthe preferred dish of my people isn't good enough for you?” Juneywas standing over the animal that she had caught that morning, thoughit smelt to me like it had been dead a lot longer.

“I-I-I-Er well...”

“Oh Lighten up wouldyou? I wouldn't have suggested this unless it was necessary... as ifI'd eat this if I had a choice.” Juney crouched; a big smile on herface as she began to cut into the animal. It made me uneasy. Kaylaerwatched her intently while Malcolm squirmed and picked at aninvisible thread on his sleeve.

“What is thatanyway?” I asked, since nobody else had bothered. To my eyes thecreature looked to be the size of a large dog, but had the teeth andbody structure of a rodent. It smelt like a bad mix of both. Juneypulled at it's jaw to reveal two long teeth.

“This, folks, is aSibbrat,”

Methyn fainted.

“he really isgullible.”

It was mid-morning bythe time we had managed to pack up camp. With Methyn spending most ofthe morning out cold and in a state of shock it was left to us topack up the camp manually. I was shocked to replace that Kaylaer wasactually quite adept at using magic- but she was more concerned withteasing Malcolm, and waving dead Sibbrat limbs in his face toactually be of any use to us.

Juney explained to usthat while the animal she had caught was actually a Sibbrat, theywere harmless, docile creatures that fed mainly on long dry grasses.They were rare in most parts of Glakyrie but they seemed to thrivebest in the mountainous regions between the two kingdoms. She hadn'texpected Methyn to be such a wuss about it. Go figure. All members ofthe expedition now awake and mobile; if not a little embarrassed, wewere headed for a town called Vallaylii. It marked the mid-point ofour journey, and was, so Juney said, an ideal place to pick up somesupplies. I was all for it if it meant we wouldn't have to eatSibbrat for breakfast again.

***

The small town was abustling hive of activity by the time we reached it at midday, and asI was gently jostled by the crowd it occurred to me that this was themost amount of people I'd seen since I had first arrived. Having leftCorthus at some Godforsaken hour; there had been barely anyonearound. Just as well; I had thought, as the buildings were all soclose together that it had given me flashbacks to the corridors in mysecondary school. People pushing past you to get where they weregoing, standing on your feet, having your face smooshed against awall by a smelly girl called Tracy from the year above. Not that thathad happened to me; being taller than everyone else, but it hadhappened to a girl I knew. She swore that her nose was permanently ona slant afterwards. Personally, I think it was always that way, butwho am I to argue?

Vallaylii didn't feelcramped at all; despite the number of people walking about. Everyonewore brightly coloured clothes, in a style that wouldn't have lookedout of place in years gone by. Smiling men behind market stalls woretunics and what I could only assume were pantaloons; there werepeople trotting by on horses in full riding gear and capes; and womenin full length dresses and bonnets stood gossiping in littleclusters. But it was not the style of dress that interested me most.No, what was more amazing to me was that not one person appeared tobe shorter than me, well, aside from Juney. In a place where I shouldhave been different- an oddity even, I fit in perfectly, and no oneglanced at me twice. My surroundings may have been pulled directlyfrom a children's fairytale; even down to the seemingly gingerbreadhouses that sat snugly side by side, but I couldn't have felt more athome.

The four of us followedJuney through to the centre of town where a large Oak tree stoodproudly in the middle of a large cobbled square.

“There's someone Ineed to go and see about supplies, and some information too while I'mat it.” She said, “Why don't you all have a look around? I'llmeet you back here in an hour or so.” and with that she took off,moving swiftly through the crowd leaving us no time to protest.

“Sounds good to me,”Methyn rubbed his hands together, “there must be somewhere aroundhere that I can get my hands on some Cortharen teabags.” I sighed;the man clearly had a problem.

“And this couldn'tpossibly wait until we get there?” I asked.

“We'vea few days travelling left and I'm down to my last ten bags.”strike that; he had a seriousproblem.

“Shouldn't be toohard to replace,” Malcolm chipped in, “Vallaylii is Glakyrie'strading capital; you can get almost anything you can possibly thinkof here, and the place is steeped in culture too. Galleries, museums,libraries; the works.”

“Really? Now thatmight be useful.” It would give me a chance to learn a little bitmore about where I was- get a better feel for the place. I knew verylittle about Corthus and I knew even less about Cortharen. Forewarnedis forearmed as they say. Besides, I got the feeling that Malcolmwanted to have a little nose around himself. Kaylaer, on the otherhand, couldn't think of anything worse, and she said as much;

“Urgh, I couldn'tthink of a worse way to spend my afternoon.”

“In that case Malcolmand I will go get some culture, you can go with Methyn and get someteabags. Sound like a plan?” I beamed at her.

Malcolm nodded, whileKaylaer shot me a stinking look that only a teenage girl can pulloff- my father had been well acquainted with that look.

“Sounds like a painin the ass. I'm outta here.” and with that she stalked off. Methynwas visibly flustered.

“Get back here younglady!”

“Ah leave her.” Iput my hand on his shoulder, “she'll be back.”

“Not if she doesn'twant to she wont. You don't know what she's like when she gets anidea in her head.” I could feel his shoulders tensing.

“I know her wellenough to know that she's going to want her purse back.” I smiledand tapped my pocket. A headstrong teenager let loose in the tradecapital; where you can buy anything you can possibly think off? Iknew what I would have spent my money on at her age, and I also knewthat it wasn't a good idea. Malcolm smiled but Methyn didn't seemquite sure about what to do with his face:

“You're not reallysetting a good example are you?”

“You're the teacher,not me.” I smiled, “I'm protecting her from herself, how about welook at it like that?”

***

Methyn did not likeplaces that he was unaccustomed to. Having not stopped off inVallaylii on any of his other visits to Cortharen it was safe to saythat he was out of his comfort zone. Though it would generally besafe to say that anywhere outside of the Corthus Institution for theStudy of Magic and Wonderment was outside of his comfort zone. On hisrare trips out of the institution he would usually only venture Northto the city of Cortharen, taking refuge in the order and cleanlinessof the place. These trips were usually taken alone and in the safetyof a carriage provided by a tried and tested cab service. Methynwould spend these holidays walking through the city, admiring thewell planned architecture, the neat rows of foliage and relishing thefact that he could sit alone in a café, drinking Cortharen tea- atsource- only making polite conversation when absolutely necessary.Even the cab service he used knew not to bother him with small talkon the journey. His trips were quiet and pleasant. In fact, that wassomething he had had difficulty trying to get his head around; havingto travel by foot. Juney had said that it was for the purpose ofstealth. He had argued that surely if they were expected then therewas no need for stealth, but Juney had insisted that this would givethem the upper hand and any advantage would be a welcome one, andwith that she had shot him a look which put an end to any furtherdebate on the matter.

So, despite hispreference for familiar places, he was quite happy to spend theafternoon exploring the Vallaylii marketplace by himself. Having toparticipate in so much conversation was probably even more exhaustingto him than the journey itself. Methyn let his mind wander happily ashe examined various stalls; it appeared he had found his way to thefood section. Every stall that he passed tempted him with a newdelicious smell that invited him to come and buy. There were stallswith fresh fruit and vegetables, stalls with all kinds of meats; oneof which was roasting what looked like a pig, on a spit. The smell ofwhich was particularly inviting. Another place sold freshly bakedbread, the warm homely smell coaxed him into buying a loaf. He pickedat the soft, still warm bread as he walked, stopping only as hepassed a fish monger – his stomach lurching at the smell of thefish in the hot afternoon air.

So preoccupied was he that he did not notice the market growing more and more sparse, itwas only when the loud voices of stall holders melted away behind himcompletely the he realised that he'd stumbled into a much moresinister part of Vallaylii. He'd heard tell of it before, throughword of mouth, from others who had stumbled upon it on their travels.It was where you might go if you were desperate; at the end of yourtether and needed something done without getting your hands dirty. Orif you had a death-wish. It wasn't ever advertised in the Vallayliitravel guides, but it probably brought in the most trade. Vallaylii'sseedy underbelly; the Assassin quarter.

***

Who on Acclayne did shethink she was? No one got away with ordering Kaylaer Bloomard aroundlike that. No one except her teachers, and she didn't listen to themhalf of the time anyway. The only person that she never questionedwas her father. No one did. Not even her mother; Kaylaer had grown tohate her for it.

Everyone was so bloodycheery in Vallaylii. Where'd they get off being so damn happy? Sheshot a dirty look at a pleasant looking woman who tried to sell herflowers. Her look didn't so much as falter when the kindly lady gaveher a long stemmed daisy for free;

“A pretty young ladyshould always have flowers.” she had said, a broad smile on herface unperturbed by Kaylaer's outwardly surly demeanour.

She walked on afterthrowing a muttered 'thanks' in the flower sellers direction.Everywhere she looked people were smiling and joking with oneanother- it was unnerving. It wasn't even like this back at theschool; where everybody knew everybody else. For the most part therewas pushing and shoving and taking the piss; and that was just in hergroup of friends.

Her friends. Thethought suddenly made her feel incredibly homesick- or rather schoolsick. Her home-life hadn't been the best, and although she'd missedher friends from her town at first she'd soon made new ones at theschool and all longing to return had subsided. This new home-sicknesswas something else entirely and the more she dwelled on it the moreit settled inside her; determined not to budge. To try and distractherself she resolved to go in search of weaponry. As a minor she wasnot technically allowed anything which could be used as a weapon andso she'd settled with using her fists instead; reasoning that, whilefist-fighting was frowned upon, they could hardly confiscate herhands. At any rate, she wasn't in school right now; she wastravelling the length of the country to rescue a princess fromcertain peril. Surely that warranted a weapon? You'd hardly send asoldier into battle without a sword.

She searched the marketuntil she found a series of stalls selling all manner of swords andknives. Stocky men perused the various wares paying her little or noattention. She liked it best that way. In her experience maleattention had hardly ever been a good thing.

Apart from her rescuer.Not that she could remember very much about him at all; and the moreshe though the less she remembered. She stopped before she gaveherself a headache.

Kaylaer played with herlong blonde hair as she browsed; acting as nonchalant as possible.She was aware that she looked older than her years- having lost her'baby-face' a long time ago. She hoped that this would work to heradvantage; she only needed to replace the right man. She studied thestalls and their vendors until she came across the perfect one; hewas no more than ten years older than her; still young enough to beruled by impulse even without a drink inside him. He eyed herappreciatively and she pretended not to notice. In front of her asmall dagger caught her eye; it was thin with a long, elegant lookingblade. The hilt was plain and short; ideal for her small hands. Itwas discreet. Exactly what she was looking for.

“How much?” sheasked without looking up.

“One Hundred andEighty Dravli.”

“That'sextortionate!” the word felt unfamiliar in her mouth; she hoped hedidn't notice.

“One Hundred andForty Dravli and your name then.”

She giggled politelyand twirled her hair around her finger. He smiled at her in return.She may have hated the attention under normal circumstances but rightnow she had the upper hand and she was happy to use it to heradvantage: this was business. She placed a dainty hand on her hip andstuck it out to the side- feigning thought while giving him a chanceto appreciate her long, slender frame.

“How about NinetyDravli, my name and a kiss?”

“Ha Ha! Now that isextortion.” He laughed.

“You wouldn't besaying that afterwards.” She winked at him. The poor boy waspractically drooling. She loved the feeling of power it gave her; ina situation where she was completely in control and safe- despite thearray of weapons around them.

Although utterlyhelpless now the boy pulled himself together enough to say; “Howabout One Hundred Dravli? Or my father will kill me, no matter howpretty I tell him you are.”

“Orhow about I kill you anyway for even thinkingabout selling a dagger to a minor!?”

Of all the luck! Theboy's father; a large, angry looking man had taken his place besidehim. His moustache twitched in a way that Kaylaer would have foundamusing under other circumstances.

“Father, I canexplain!”

“I don't need anexplanation; I can see for myself that you are thinking with yourtrousers again you stupid boy!” with that he hit him smartly overthe head. Kaylaer let slip a small laugh. “And you! Get out of hereMissy, now; before I call the guards.”

Kaylaer needed nofurther encouragement; she returned her blade reluctantly andsauntered off the way she came. She had been so close.

She walked around themarket place a while longer until she eventually stopped in front ofa quaint little tavern. It was an unusually short building withhanging baskets and plant pots covering every available space.Despite it's pleasant appearance the familiar smell of stale alcoholwafted out through the doorway and onto the street. Kaylaer shudderedas she remembered that first night in Corthus. How dare those drunkenidiots come near her? She had hated herself for being so weak andvowed never to be that helpless again. As an act of defiance shewalked straight into the building.

It was dimly lit insideand her eyes took a minute to adjust to the change. It was very quietwith only a few people sitting at the bar; it being mid-afternoonmost people would still be working. She hauled herself up onto awell-worn bar stool and ordered herself half a pint of beer. Thebarman was old and doddering and; Kaylaer suspected, half blind as hedidn't even question her age as he put the glass down in front ofher. With a grunt he turned to serve one of his other patrons.

Kaylaer sipped at herdrink; it wasn't as appetising as people made it out to be and itleft a horrible dry taste in her mouth. Still, she persevered andbegan to feel the effects half-way through her glass. A warm feelingwashed over her; she was perfectly content even though she was satalone in an unfamiliar town. It was a strange feeling that compelledher to drink more and as she did the room seemed to lose a bit offocus. She had almost forgotten that sick feeling that had nestled inthe pit of her stomach. She drained the last of her drink and orderedanother when someone sat down beside her.

“Well, fancy seeingyou here.” It was her 'friend' from the market.

“Oh. Hi.”

“You got me into alot of trouble you know.”

“No.Yougot you into a lot of trouble.” she sipped at her drink and to hersurprise he laughed.

“You're a piece ofwork you are!” She ignored him. “I like it though.”

She rolled her eyes;“Well, good for you.”

“Good for me when youpay me what you owe me.”

“Ha! I owe younothing.”

“So you wont bewanting this then?” She turned to look at him now as he slid thesmall dagger she had been looking at toward her across the bar.

“Now why did you dothat?” She couldn't help but smile; for which she would later blamethe beer. Even so she felt a surge of panic; there was no stallbetween them now, she could practically feel the heat radiating fromhim he was sitting that close. She wasn't in control anymore.

“Like I said; I likeyou. Besides, who else could handle a dagger that small?” Helaughed again and she found herself blushing.

“One Hundred andEighty wasn't it?”

“I seem to rememberOne Hundred, a name and a kiss.” His smile was broad now andconfident. She fumbled for her purse. She didn't have it; it wasgone,and so was the buzz from the alcohol. Trying not to let herpanic show on her face she slowly picked up the dagger and made toexamine it before looking at him. She met his gaze and held it. Hiseyes were a friendly deep green; she almost felt bad for him.

“How about a kiss-”She leant forward and slid of the stool; kissing him gently on thecheek before quickly shifting herself behind him. She held the daggerto his neck. “- and you get the hint and stop stalking me.” Shesnarled half-heartedly in his ear. He smelt of freshly cut grass andleather; it was disturbingly comforting; she could feel the daggershaking in her hand and hoped he didn't notice.

“W-What?”

“Hmm,sounds fair to me.” She moved quickly to the door, her dagger stillunsheathed. “I'll pay you back for the beer one day.” she smiled;half outside now. “And don't worry, I wont tell anyone you've beensupplying a minor. Now that wouldbe terrible.” She winked at him. “I owe you one.”

Out on the brightstreet Kaylaer felt a pang of guilt for leaving him- not that she'dasked him to follow her there in the first place. If anything it washis own fault; and she'd have paid if she hadn't lost her purse. Herpurse. She thought back to the morning; the confident look onAlaina's face when she'd refused to go with her; the fact that no onehad chased after her. Anger bubbled up inside of her and she becameacutely aware of the weight of the dagger in her pocket. That bitchhad her purse.