He laughed. “You say that today, but tomorrow you’ll find yourself with bruises in places you don’t know can hurt.”
Sara said, “I heard what you told Prin and have thought about it. A person can train for a year, but the first time they get into a real fight, and they skin their knuckles or take a blow to their head, they quit. To fight, you must learn to accept pain and set it aside. There is no magic solution for that.”
The instructor asked if Prin wished a refill of her tea as if the two of them were at a tea party instead of planning how to attack and defend themselves. When she refused, he stood and limped to the front door before turning back to Sara one last time. “We’ll see if you still think that way tomorrow.”
After dark, Brice emerged from his room to eat, tired and eyes groggy. Maude joined them near the end, holding a simple, silver ring. Both Sara and Prin saw the purple glow, and as if little green candles were inside the metal.
Brice glanced at it without comment and continued eating. Maude held it in front of him. “Tell me what you think of this ring, but do not slip it on your finger.”
He accepted it. Then he turned it, examining it from different angles. “It’s nice. An emerald would make it better.”
Odd that he chose emerald. Prin said, “It’s silver.”
He glanced at it again. “I thought I saw a little green.”
Maude said, “It’s special. Now, I want you to slip it on your ring finger of your left hand.”
“Is it going to hurt?”
“Not at all,” She said. “Do it.” The ring went on. Almost instantly she said, “Now, take it off and let me see your finger.”
A purple glow remained on his finger, a caterpillar of purple fuzz as bright as a candle on a dark night. Prin realized that if only one person at an entire bazaar had a finger that glowed like Brice’s, she could single that person out in moments. She asked, “How long will it last?”
“Until his death,” Maude said.
Brice leaped up. “What’s going to kill me?”
They quickly explained. He peered at his ring-less finger from every angle and swore he saw nothing. Then he placed it on again as Maude explained. Only the most trusted would ever wear the ring.
Prin said, “What if a thief steals it? Did you think of that? We might have hundreds of dishonest people identified as our friends.”
“Part of the spell is made to prevent that. If your friend Jam steals and wears it, the glow will not happen. It must be a willing gift from Brice. The spell is bound to him, and the ring, of course. It will only work with, and for, Brice. Not even you and I can use it.”
Brice said, “How will I use it?”
Prin said, “Let me give you an example. You’ve heard of the man named El who managed to sneak us away from those hunting us in Indore? He risked his life to help us and turned his back on a fortune. When you meet him, you will explain that he must wear the ring and then our friends will know him, forever.”
“Only the most trusted of the trusted,” Maude said. “We thank those who give us gifts or a bargain at the market, but only those we trust with our lives will ever wear that ring. Prin will give you names and how to find the few she has.”
Prin said, “I will think on it, but Evelyn, a sorceress, and beyond the mountains are perhaps two others.”
Sara said, “Will one of them be your boyfriend, Cleanup?”
Prin pretended she ignored the barb while sipping tea. The teacup was a wonderful way to gain a few precious seconds before answering, but it didn’t slow her mind. Wait until you are doing your combat training tomorrow.
Maude said to Brice, “There will be another ring that I will wear. It is the same. Word will spread between sorceresses and others will wear similar rings. If we encounter anyone, anywhere, with that purple glow, we will know them as friends.”
Brice still didn’t seem very impressed, probably because he couldn’t see what happened after trying on the ring. But he did understand he held a power that only a few in the world knew of, and they all sat in the room with him.
They prepared to leave for the port the following morning, but Maude strolled outside and motioned to a gardener at a nearby house to approach. The gardener wore a naked sword supported by an iron ring. She said, “All of us must leave for the morning.”
“Your home will be secure,” he said.
“Will there be others of your order watching over us?”
“If you wish, Madam Maude.”
“I do.” She slipped a handful of coins into his hand without mentioning it, then turned and entered the house again. “Brice, it’s time.”
He entered the main room looking as lost as a dog left outside in a rainstorm. He carried his bag over his shoulder. “I’m ready.”
Maude said, “Anything you don’t wish to take, just leave in your room until you return. It’ll be there waiting.”
“I know. I left some things behind.”
The conversation had a false sense of sincerity and joy. They all knew things would change with the departure of Brice. The lessons in spells, castings, research, reading and a hundred other areas would become intense. The personal defense classes would get brutal. But Prin looked forward to it, as she reacted each time she passed a reflection in a window and saw her new hair.
Sara had taken time the night before, perhaps in anticipation of her combat training, to cut hers with the help of Maude. The length now hung below her ears, but no longer. She used a sticky wax to sweep back with her fingers. She gave the appearance of being ready to fight.
But Prin saw the darting eyes, the quick reactions to sharp sounds, and she knew that Sara was scared. She had watched Prin fight and lose every day for almost a month.
Outside, a carriage pulled to a stop, and the driver shook a handful of bells to tell them he was waiting. Prin was happy to see it because the distance to the waterfront was a long walk, especially when carrying a seabag.
They tried to make the trip something of a party, the four of them ignoring Brice would leave for perhaps as much as a half-year. They talked of old things, joys they’d shared, and reminded Brice of the hundred tasks they’d given him. He remembered all the answers to their questions, and as they neared the carriage depot where they’d first entered Gallium, the conversation lagged.
They wouldn’t go closer to the ship. Despite their changed appearance, from a distance, the captain or Bos’n might recognize their walk, or a gesture they made, or hear their voice. Instead, they climbed from the carriage, each with a little private time to share, and then Brice was walking to the Merry Princess, and the carriage was heading back up the hill.
Sara leaned forward and said to the driver, “There is a place ahead where you can water your horse, and we can get mugs of cold water with orange in it.”
“I know the place.”
“We will pay any fees.”
“My horse needs a drink, anyway.”
Sara refused to relent. “So, do I. Please, allow me to pay.”
The driver chuckled, “What are you trying to do? Become my favorite passenger of the day?”
“No, just remembering my first trip in a carriage here—and how well it worked out.” Sara settled back into her seat. The water was as cold and refreshing as Prin recollected, and from Sara’s soft smile, Prin knew she did too.
Maude said, “That boy was somewhere around the ship, watching it. I felt the tag getting stronger even though it’s almost three days old and should be depleted. He’ll try to cause problems for Brice, you know.”
Prin said, “Brice can take care of himself.”
“Better than when we found him,” Sara added.