Table Of ContentAn Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
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Sorcerer’s Apprentice
ISBN 9781419920981
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Sorcerer’s Apprentice Copyright© 2009 C.S. Chatterly
Edited by Meghan Conrad
Cover art by Syneca
Electronic book Publication April 2009
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SORCERER’S APPRENTICE
C.S. Chatterly
Dedication
For everyone who believes in magic, and for my husband Lee. He never
stopped believing in me.
Acknowledgements
Many thanks to my readers. You provide the motivation to write.
Chapter One
Brynn Nightflyer looked at the parchment for a third time, swallowed hard
and tried to keep her exhilaration from showing on her face. The messenger had
only just delivered her application response, which meant her days at the Sun
Gem Emporium were numbered. She’d taken a risk and it had paid off in the
most monumental way. Admittedly, she’d relied on her father’s name to obtain
the acceptance, but the rest she could do for herself. And it wasn’t as though
people didn’t use contacts to make a better life for themselves. They did it all the
time. Why should she be any different?
She glanced around the around the shop, hoping no one had noticed the
messenger or the covert way she refolded the parchment and placed it inside the
front pocket of her oversized apron. Too late—her soon-to-be former employer
caught the furtive movement from across the store. She watched him leave his
place behind the herb counter to waddle across the room. His portly frame barely
missed knocking over several displays of crystals, books on wizardry, candles
and incense. Brynn winced at the imperious look on his face, but knew she
wouldn’t have to put up with his high-handed treatment much longer.
“Miss Nightflyer, I’d like to have a word with you, please.”
She tamped down the urge to tell him she’d like to have a few paragraphs
with him and reluctantly followed the man into the back stock room where
stacks of spells, magical supplies and robes were neatly stored. Her boss, Pratter
Fizzydig, was anything but discreet. Still, Brynn had to give him credit for not
chewing her out in front of any customers or the other employees. That and the
fact that she had needed this job after her father’s death were the only things that
kept her at Sun Gem Emporiums, Purveyors of Fine Herbs, Crystals and Magical
Supplies.
Once they were in the stock room, Pratter turned and regarded the young
woman before him. “Miss Nightflyer, I dislike our employees receiving
messages or communication while on the clock. I saw that note you were trying
to hide. Rules prohibiting personal business are clearly stated in the employee
handbook. The personnel department handed out a new edition last month. You
did read it, didn’t you?”
She took a deep breath and checked her temper. “Of course, Mr. Fizzydig.
But I’ve been working double shifts at your request, so there hasn’t been a lot of
time for me to attend to personal business.”
“Nevertheless…if I make a rule I expect my employees to abide by it. I can’t
make exceptions for you.” He snorted. “I suppose because you’re Azamus
Nightflyer’s daughter you think yourself above the standards which apply to
others. Is that it?”
She felt her hands involuntarily clench into fists. “Of course not, sir. I can
promise you it won’t happen again.”
He arched one brow and looked her over. “It had better not. Too much time
was wasted last year on employees who brought their personal lives to work
with them. The rules were made for that very reason. I expect a ―”
“Full day’s work for a full day’s wages,” Brynn finished for him. “Yes sir, I
remember.”
“See that you do,” he warned. “Now, it’s back to the job and our customers.”
Brynn stood there while he made a hrumphing noise in the back of his throat
and pulled at the front vee of his wizard’s robe to straighten it. She watched him
walk out of the stock room. His billowy bright pink robe with gold moons and
stars embroidered on the fabric made him look less like the minor wizard he was
and more like an enormous cosmic accident. She let out a long sigh of
frustration, shook her head and followed his enormous figure back into the
display area. There she took up her place behind the counter where crystal balls
were sold and grit her teeth.
One day soon, she was going to be able to walk into the shop and hand in her
notice. A few more days of work, one more miserly paycheck deposited into her
account and she’d be ready to purchase her ticket. Her application had been
accepted. She had six months to show up at Castle Pendragon or lose the chance
of apprenticing under one of the galaxy’s finest and most powerful Master
Sorcerers—Draco Pendragon.
Among those Earthlings who had chosen to venture into space looking for
new homes and for the thrill of exploration, the name Pendragon came first.
Over a century ago they’d found and populated the planet Illusia. And because
of its beauty and ethereal qualities, so very much like Earth’s, the council of the
Wizards of Light had chosen it as the center of all white magic. Among those
planets known to mankind, it alone was unspoiled by pollution or war. It stood as
a shining beacon to all those who sought the knowledge of the light. By contrast,
those who practiced in darkness had yet to find a home world. They were as
unwelcome on any newly colonized planet as any scourge or plague. Those of
the dark side wandered, therefore, and continually sought to usurp the power of
the Pendragon clan and all those who practiced white magic. For that
understandable reason any apprentice coming into the Pendragon household or
apprenticing with any lineage of light was scrupulously checked and tested. If
they were found wanting in any way, or could not fight off the temptation to use
dark arts, they were failed. And once an apprentice failed their magic books
were taken from them forever. The revocation of a family’s books had the result
of making whatever magic they possessed dwindle away with time.
There were only a handful of Master Sorcerers. But it was possible, if a
student of wizardry was very dedicated and their powers were more
accomplished, that they could one day become a Master for him or herself. And
that was Brynn’s dream. She wanted to honor her father and the Nightflyer name
and have it rank in importance with the likes of the Pendragon’s, especially since
she was the last of the Nightflyer clan. If she died without an heir her family’s
books would be destroyed. And that would end her clan’s magic. The name of
Nightflyer, however, would still be listed in the rolls of magnificent practitioners
if she could study with someone who could hone her skills.
She scrupulously polished crystal balls of all shapes, sizes and colors while
trying not to notice Fizzydig’s scrutiny from across the shop. Admiring a
particularly beautiful amethyst globe, she smiled brightly when an older woman
wearing and expensive, fawn-colored caftan approached her counter with a
questioning expression.
“May I help you?” Brynn asked.
“Yes, perhaps you can. Are you a wizard?”
Brynn nodded. “Yes ma’am. Did you have a question about any of the crystal
balls?” She waved one hand over the expensive merchandise within her display
case. Because many on Earth now had beliefs that led them toward New Age
practices, certain objects were often sold to those bereft of magic. People were
always asking for herbs, lotions, ointments and incense to use in their homes.
Even crystal balls found a place of honor in many households. Most just found
their glistening soothing—the balls were often placed in a lighted area where
their owners could stare into their depths.
Brynn waited patiently while the woman’s gaze drifted over different crystal
balls and their accompanying brass stands.
The woman leaned closer. “Actually, I do love collecting these beautiful
globes. They’re so lovely when you line them up on a window sill.”
Brynn enthusiastically nodded. “Aren’t they?”
“I was hoping you could give me some information about them,” the woman
continued. “I understand that if one pays a little extra, powers can be bestowed
upon the balls. Is that so?”
Brynn already knew what was coming. She could see the gleam of mischief
in the woman’s gaze. “What kind of power did you want?”
The woman glanced around and moved even closer to Brynn. “I want to
make a man fall in love with me. I’m told such a thing is possible.”
It was…if the wizard involved wanted to open up their black book and cast
such a spell. Brynn, however, was not that woman. “I’m sorry, madam. But the
kind of magic you’re talking about comes from the black book and I don’t use
it.”
The woman snorted. “Surely I could pay a little extra. I mean, what’s the
harm in one little love spell?”
“The harm, madam, is that making someone fall in love with you is wrong. I
can sell you some incense or some herbs you can use to ask the forces of nature
to be more amenable. But I can’t give you a spell to force someone to do
anything.”
The woman rolled her eyes in disgust. “I’ve tried burning candles and asking
for my heart’s desire. I’ve tried using that damn incense to pray that love will
cross my doorstep. I’ve even used herbs and oils to anoint my home and allow
the spirits of love to enter. But I want a particular man. I know there’s a spell for
this kind of thing, everyone does.”
Brynn nodded. “You’re right, there is. I’ve heard so myself. But I’ve never
opened my black book. And those who told you all this had no business doing
so. Asking for someone to find and love you through the use of charms isn’t the
same thing as forcing a person against their will.”
“And how would you know it would be against his will? Maybe I’m just
trying to…to push things along a little. I’m not getting any younger, you know?”
Brynn sadly shook her head. “The best I can offer you is a talisman of some
kind, something that will lead the forces of nature to gently guide you into
finding the right person. Spells of that kind take time. Things like that don’t
happen overnight.”
“I tell you I’ve tried all that,” the woman raised her voice in anger. “It
doesn’t work. It’s as good as doing the thing myself without magic at all. And if
I could have accomplished it on my own then what’s the point in having you
wizards around?”
Brynn had seen her type before. This customer appeared to be a woman who
was spoiled, impatient and not beyond doing something illegal to get what she
wanted. And using the black side wasn’t only morally reprehensible, it was
illegal. Sadly, the very same personality traits she was presently displaying were
probably blinding her to someone whose love was already hers, someone who
would really care for her and who she would probably deem inappropriate
because of wealth, age or physical appearance.
“I’m sorry, madam. I can’t help you.”
Hearing the woman’s voice grow louder with frustration, Pratter wobbled
across the shop. “Is there something the matter here? May I help you, madam?”
The woman pointed a finger at Brynn. “She refuses to sell me what I want.
I’ve told her and she blatantly ignored my request.”
Pratter glared at Brynn. “What was it the lady requested, Miss Nightflyer?”
