Bastion of Sun

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

An Apprentice Stonemason

Lucky donned his clothes quickly—a faded white shirt and brown britches. Both were clean and pressed, despite his best efforts. He bolted down the staircase, bubbling with excitement for today was his first day as Balder's apprentice. He took the stairs two at a time and had a flashing memory.

"Tomorrow begins your training!" Balder announced. "You are hereby anointed to Master Architect's apprentice."

Lucky beamed, then hesitated, confused. "Um, what's an architect do anyway?"

"An architect, or at least a good one," he said, holding up a weathered finger, "is someone who can grasp the big picture and sweats the details."

Lucky scratched his head. "Both? Sounds hard."

Balder grunted. "Tell me about it. But what other job compares? We give shape and structure to the world around us... We build buildings that comprise cities, and cities that comprise kingdoms, and kingdoms that comprise the world. The world, Lucky. And every edifice you create, if you do it right, will last a thousand years. So, many years after you're gone, men and women will look to your work with awe, and wonder who the man behind the stone was and what life they lived. You are ready for that kind of responsibility, aren't you?"

Lucky gulped then nodded, more faintly.

As Lucky took the last few stairs, he glanced around the inn.

The inn was alive as it usually was, even for this early in the day. Lucky liked it that way. It felt like home, like the bustling streets of Farbs. Plus, he liked all the people that worked for Mistress Hitomi. Elves, humans, villagers, everyone seemed to drift toward the innkeeper like bees to honey. The only person with more pull in the camp was Karil herself, the elf queen. A queen! Lucky shivered. He still couldn't believe it.

But today Hitomi was nowhere to be seen.

He crossed the nearly built common room, weaving through elves carrying large beams and villagers hammering in a bannister that would wrap around a large center platform where singers, musicians and all sorts of performers would play. The rest of the inn was equally impressive with over a dozen stained glass windows and a huge bar, made of beautiful purple wood called Heartwood by the elves, wrapped around the whole back of the inn. A vaulted ceiling with heavy beams held up the five-story inn. "If I'm going to build this, it's going to be an inn to make other inns blush," Hitomi had told him once.

"Stop right there."

Lucky skidded to a halt, freezing.

He knew whose voice that was.

Lucky turned red, still facing the door. He didn't want to show his face. He could feel her stern eyes on his back, a glare that pierced flesh and bone. All work in the inn seemed to slow as ears began to eavesdrop—the clank of hammers and the chatter of pleasant work subsiding. Does she know I've been stealing sweetcakes from the pantry? he wondered fearfully. "Morning, my lady," he said, "I can't talk. I—"

"Don't 'morning, my lady' me," she said sternly. He twisted to look at her. She was surrounded by her standard army of workers. "You've been skirting me for two days now, flitting in and out of here at all hours. It's not becoming of a boy your age. You're too old to act like a puppy without a leash. A boy your age needs boundaries, rules."

Lucky scowled, reddening in anger, his hands balling into fists. But before he could retort, Hitomi held up a hand.

She seemed to read him and her stern face softened. She approached and tsked. He looked up to her. Her frown slipped, replaced by a smile, and with that smile, Lucky's ire faded. Hitomi smoothed his blond hair. "I was worried about you, that's all. You've heard the reports. I know you've a keen ear—the scouts of Dryan are getting too close. I fear..." She shook her head but her eyes still looked troubled.