chapter one ; the apprentice & the thieves
Art Baker carried a basket full of herbs and other such things through the marketplace, peering around to try and see where he was going without running into very many people. His fair blond hair stuck to his forehead and his neck with sweat; the combination of the heat of the day in mid-summer and the weight of the basket was taking its toll. He had been raised in a poorer family until his gifts had become known, but even so, he was unpracticed and still couldn't manage to levitate the basket for more than a minute, let alone let it float along in front of him.
The marketplace was busy, as always. He saw Davidson at the mouth of an alley, which was odd – with Davidson's profession, he usually didn't come out until the night hours. Perhaps he had a meeting with someone, or perhaps he was pursuing his second job as a pickpocket. Either was likely.
Scramm was there, selling off some extra vegetables. His wife had recently had her first child, and was expecting another, Baker had heard. He wasn't quite sure what the intelligence in having so many children when they were so poor was, especially with the children being all around the same age, but he knew that his Master gave them free medical checkups, and everyone in the community liked them because they worked hard and were polite, so he did figure that he'd be okay.
He turned and staggered down a slightly dank alley, a breeze drifting through and fluttering his Magician's Apprentice robes around his ankles. This alley always made him a bit nervous, if only because he hadn't quite mastered combat magic, either.
No, necromancy was more his forte.
Someone bumped into him from behind and Baker was glad for the fact that his robes and belt was enough to show anyone that he need not pay. They could grope around as much as they wanted, they would not find a wallet anywhere.
His happy feeling passed when he felt something sharp press into the small of his back.
"Alright, apprentice," a rough voice said. "You're going to get out of your goddam robes, put down your fucking apprentice shit, and come with us."
"Who are you?" Baker asked, voice calm. He had been in a few fights before, of course, and even beaten someone quite badly – but they had been drunk. And this voice did not sound drunk in the slightest. "Why?"
"I'll ask the questions around here," the voice snapped. "Oi, Abe. Grab them out of his hands."
"Don't say my name, dumbass," a deep voice muttered to match the first. It wasn't quite as rough as the first, but there was still that quality about it that made Baker shiver. Then his basket was jerked from his arms and thrown, potions and herbs spilling everywhere. Standing in front of him was a thief. A tall, thin thief with ginger hair and freckles.
"Doesn't matter! We want the fucker to know our name, right? Don't tell me you forgot the goddam plan," the rough voice said. "If we ever wanna be proper criminals, we've gotta capture someone important."
"He didn't even try to fight us off," Abe said.
"I specialize in necromancy," Baker offered, and the point of the knife pressed further into his back. "I haven't quite learned the rest of it yet."
"Great," the rough voice said. "We've got the freak who can't do anything except raise the dead."
"No, I take it back," Abe said. "Not many of them specialize in that."
Baker shifted and the knife jabbed his back again. He winced a little. "Either way, I'm gettin' nervous," the rough voice said. "Let's get him back."
"I'll blindfold him," Abe said, pulling a strip of cloth from his pocket. It looked rough, and dirty, and if Baker had been more stuck-up, he would have been very leery of having that around his eyes for the disease factor. Now he was leery of it because of the fact that he was being kidnapped. "Get his clothes off of him."
Large, strangely uncalloused hands – young, then, young like Abe – undid Baker's belt and slipped his robe off of him, leaving him in undershorts and an undershirt. He shivered when a breeze went through the alley. It really was breezy today, wasn't it? Either that or it was someone magically keeping an eye on things, but if that was the case, Baker would hope that they would try and help him instead of watch him strip at knifepoint.
Abe turned him around to reach the rough voice with the knife. Yes, he was young, though large and intimidating-looking. He had dark blond hair and sideburns with a bit of growth on his chin and dark brown eyes set deeply into his face. He was tall – not quite as tall as Abe, but broad-shouldered and much more muscled. He was handsome, Baker supposed, though in a bad boy sort of way. The type of boy that you did not want to bring home to your mother, because he swore and he drank and he spat on rich boys shirts after punching them in the nose and stealing their money.
He noticed Baker staring at scowled. "The fuck you looking at?" he asked.
Baker didn't answer, and instead smiled at him. He flushed.
"Collie, come on, someone's going to get suspicious eventually. You can't just tell a magician's apprentice to strip at knifepoint and not expect someone to get suspicious," Abe said, tying the strip of fabric tightly onto Baker's head and covering his eyes. Baker shifted a little, and Abe tightened the knot. "There we go. Onward, faithful soldiers."
"Fuck you, Abe," Collie said. "If I wanted to be a soldier, I woulda stayed at home. What does that mean, anyway?"
"I think it's religious," Abe said. He sounded pondering. "But I can't be quite sure."
Collie grasped Baker's arm tightly. "Let's get going, then," he said. "Now that you mention someone getting suspicious, it's makin' me… goddam nervous."
"Collie Parker, 'goddam nervous,'" Abe said, like he was tasting the words on his tongue. "I never thought I'd hear those words come out of your mouth. I don't know if I'd believe it, except for the word 'goddam' coming first."
"Fuck you, Abe," Parker said. He took a huge step forward, dragging Baker along after him. He counted their steps and their turns – they took a left when Baker would have turned a right, at seventeen steps, and one hundred steps and a right turn later, they went down a set of stairs. Baker sneezed at the sudden influx of dust, and Parker clapped a hand over his mouth. "Shh! We ain't exactly renting the place!"
"Parker, you're louder than that," Abe said. He untied Baker's blindfold with thin, deft fingers, then tapped him on both shoulders. "Parker's clothes should fit you. They might be a little roomy, but it's not like you're going anywhere, anyway."
"True," Baker said. He had to focus to stop his hands. "So, why did you kidnap me, exactly?"
"Abraham thinks a magician's apprentice will fetch a pretty ransom," Parker said. "An', hell, you only live once, so kidnap people all you want. Especially if you're goin' down the criminal route anyway."
Abraham rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers. Baker thought that he was doing it just for emphasis, but then a loaf of bread floated over into his fingers.
"You have the Talent," Baker said. "Why are you here?"
Abraham tore the bread into thirds, looking almost bored about the whole thing. "There are a lot more magic thieves than you might think," he said, passing the biggest piece to Parker, the second biggest to Baker, and taking the smallest for himself. "They'd never take me seriously, so why should I work for them? I'll be my own boss, and prove-"
"To the world that you're worth something, I know, I've heard it a million times before," Parker said. "I ain't magic. I just don't mind Abe sometimes."
"You love me and you know it," Abraham said. He took a bite out of his bread, chewing with a precision that did not come from a life on the streets.
"You were born into a high family," Baker said. Abraham paused.
"Maybe," he said, rolling the bread into one cheek. So he'd been out of money for a while. "Maybe not. What does it matter to you? You trying to fuck with my head like Parker said you would?"
"No, no, I said he'd try to fuck you."
"You did not."
Baker watched them argue. It was almost like his parents, really, people who had been around each other so long that they knew each and every quirk and similarly loved and hated them. He smiled a little, then remembered that he had been kidnapped and sat down with a thump on a nearby chair. Both of them glanced at him.
"I've been kidnapped," he said.
"That's right," Abraham said after a brief pause. "We kidnapped you. That's sort of what we were talking about."
"We need money," Parker said.
"And notoriety," Abraham added.
"Sometimes I feel like you use all'a those goddam big words and don't even know what they mean," Parker said. Baker, who had been educated and knew that Abraham had used the word correctly, came to his defense.
"He's right," he said. "If he was wrong, he would have said esteem or something."
"That's right," Abraham said. "Jesus, Parker, be a little more supportive."
Idly, Baker wondered what the young soldier that had taken to him was going to think when it was found out that he had been kidnapped. Because, if he was being completely honest with himself, Hank Olson was not level-headed at the best of times.
Alright, so this is a new multi-chaptered fic that I will be updating daily through May 5th, and after that on Fridays once my fanfiction schedule is back to normal! Featuring… well, you'll see everyone, but this is just the beginning conflict of the story. It will be fun. Tremendous fun. So keep tuning in!
