WINDOWS: A BROKEN FAIRY TALE (2 page)

The action was
simple.
 
The effect on both Sarah and the
previously dark fireplace was anything but.
 
With a loud pop, a blaze set to dancing merrily on the wood.
 
Sarah screeched and tumbled over a stack of iron
rods she forgot to put up earlier.

“You’re a witch!”
She stammered, pulling herself hastily to her feet, keeping her eyes firmly
fixed on Raven, who was bent nearly double, guffawing as if she’d just heard
the world’s funniest joke.

Raven wiped a tear
from her eye as Sarah stood and brushed the iron dust from her jeans.
 
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” The now
slightly disheveled girl asked.

“Cause you didn’t
ask.”
  

Since she couldn’t
argue that, Sarah sat down on a stool and motioned for Raven to do the
same.
 
“You said earlier we had a lot to
talk about.
 
I’m guessing that was part
of it?”
 
She studied the alabaster
skinned woman in the flickering light as she spoke.
 
For some reason the fire reflecting in Raven’s
eyes gave Sarah a sense of unease.
 
The
emeralds were gone, washed away in liquid crimson.
 
Something in a fairy tale her mother had once
told her.

“First off my
sisters are witches.”
 
Raven turned from
the fire and her eyes sparkled again.
 
The disquiet flittered from Sarah’s mind like a butterfly’s breathe on a
spring morning.
 
“I’m a sorceress.”

“What’s the
difference?”

Figuring it would
be easier to show than to explain, Raven drew her sword and laid it on two
nearby anvils, each supporting one end.
 
“If you can break this sword, I’ll give you 500 hundred gullions.”

Sensing easy
money, Sarah grabbed a nearby hammer and swung.
 
Metal met metal with a loud clang and sparks flew from the clash.
 
The sword clattered to the floor but remained
remarkably undamaged.
 
Her face a mask of
bewilderment, Sarah turned to Raven.
 
The
sorceress picked up the sword and walked closer to the fire.
           

“Look at
this.”
 
Raven gently brushed her hand
over the metal.
 
Sarah stared in
amazement as what she thought were scratches moved as if alive over the metal,
grouping together in seemingly random patterns.

“Runes.” She
whispered as the markings stopped.
 
There
were tales of such things but they were forbidden years ago.

Raven nodded.
 
“I couldn’t let you see them earlier because
there were ten members of the Protectorate in that bar.
 
You would have been arrested on the spot just
for being there with me.
 
You know that,
right?”

“Because of the
restrictions on magic.”
 
It was more
statement than question.

Raven sheathed her
sword.
 
“A witch and sorceress can both
cast spells, which you saw me do with the fire place.
 
A sorceress, however, can also inscribe runes
onto objects, endowing them with magical properties.
 
This sword will never break; never lose its
edge unless it is hit by another object of greater magical power.
 
The amount of magic power given by runes is
directly attributed to the magic power of the sorceress.”

“So it can cut
through anything?”
 
Sarah was stunned
that such a powerful weapon was here, in her shop.

A laugh that
tinkled like crystal answered, “You’ve been reading too many bed time stories.
 
This sword will cut through anything I’m
strong enough to make it.
 
I could hit
this,” she popped the nearest anvil with her hand, “a hundred times and I’d be
lucky to even nick it.
 
There are some
runes that will augment a person’s abilities but those are extremely rare and
enormously difficult to inscribe.”

Sarah sensed Raven
was close to going off on a lecture about the magical properties of such and
such so she quickly changed the subject.
 
“You said your sisters were witches.
 
I don’t know anything about your family.”

The redhead
pirouetted once for no reason Sarah could discern.
 
“I have three sisters.
 
Liz is the oldest; Bekah is second, then me,
and then Mandy.
 
Those three are full
blood sisters; I’m the half sister by our father.”

Sarah looked
confused and Raven tried to work out the family tree as best she could, “I
don’t know the whole story but after my mother passed away, I was sent to live
with my father and his family but he died shortly before I arrived.
 
His wife was still pregnant with Mandy but
she found it in her heart to give this little orphan a home.
 
I never have understood why, but I’m real
happy she did.”

Sarah reached out
and put her hand on top of Raven’s, asking why she referred to her step-mother
as, “his wife” instead of mom.

Raven
shrugged.
 
“She’s not my mother.
 
We’re not related by blood.”
 

Seeing the
unspoken questions, Raven continued her family history, “I’ve never been forced
to do menial chores.
 
My sisters and I
got the same amount of presents for birthdays.
 
We all went to the same school and had the same advantages.
 
We even got punished exactly alike.
 
I’ve never been treated like anything other
than her daughter.
 
It’s simply that we
are not related.”

Raven walked to a
window staring outside as the constant flashes of lightening illuminated pale
skin, lending her an almost ethereal quality.
 
Thunder growled close by as Sarah followed, stopping a few paces behind.

“There’s something
else, isn’t there.
 
Something you’re not
saying?”

The grin never
dropped as Raven drew a shape in the window’s condensation.
 
“Here’s a star, Sarah.
 
Sorry it’s not gold but you’ve earned
one.”
 
Then she shrugged her shoulders. “She’s
always been a bit standoffish with me, not really quick with the hugs and
kisses when I got a boo-boo growing up.
 
I can’t really blame her, since her husband, my father, cheated on her
with my mother.
 
The fact she even let me
stay with them shows what a truly kind hearted person she is.
 
It’s just that recently there seems to be a
wall between us, like she doesn’t trust me or something.”
 

The redhead looked
at a clock on the wall, “I’ve been talking for over an hour and we haven’t even
discussed our business plans.”

Sarah smiled at
her new friend and asked what they should talk about first.
 
Raven started right up.
 
“Was this your father’s smithy?”

“No.
 
That was taken and sold at auction after he
passed away to pay for back taxes.
 
I
rent this place and the equipment.”
 
Sarah didn’t like having to rent but there was no other choice.

Raven tapped her
front teeth with her thumbnail, trying to think of how best to phrase the next
question.
 
“Sarah,” she began, still
searching for the right words, “how would you feel about moving to Valentria?”

 
Sarah just stared with open mouth at the woman
who had just asked her to give up everything she had worked for and move to a
different duchy over 500 miles away.
 
“That’s a bit sudden, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Why would I want
to move to Valentria anyway?”

“A better shop for
one.”

The blacksmith
narrowed her eyes suspiciously, “What do you mean a better shop?”

Raven giggled,
“Thought that would get your attention.
 
You see, I recently purchased a large shop intending to go into business
for myself.
 
However, and here’s where a
blacksmith comes in, the front is a store while the back is a rather large
smithy with all the latest tools and instruments.
 
I need someone to take advantage of it.”

It was difficult
to resist the lure of her own shop but discretion reared its head.
 
“So I would be renting the space from you,
right?”
 
Sarah couldn’t see the benefit
of trading one rented shop for another.

“Absolutely not, I
got a loan to pay for this place.
 
If we
were to work together, we’d pay the loan back and for the materials out of the
profits.
 
Then split the rest right down
the middle.
 
A fifty-fifty partnership.”

Her own shop!
 
Sarah could hardly believe this was being
offered to her by someone she met just a few hours ago.
 
Still, it was probably too good to be
true.
 
“How do I know this isn’t a
scam?”
 
Doubt, fueled by years of real
life, crept into her voice.

Raven nodded again
and pulled out five hundred gullions, handing the bills to Sarah.

   
       
“Here’s what I’ll do.”
 
Sarah’s mind was abuzz with a million
questions as she blankly took the stack of bills, “Think about it tonight.
 
Tomorrow I’ll come by and you tell me if you
want to go look at the shop.
 
If you do,
we’ll head to Valentria and take a gander.
 
I’ll buy you a return ticket home if you decide you don’t like it.
 
Consider the money payment for the work you’d
miss because of the trip.”

Fondling the money
in a daze, Sarah barely heard herself asking, “What if I’m just not here
tomorrow?
 
What if I deposit this and
hide for a few days?”

Raven cocked her
head to the right and scrunched her eye-brows together.
 
“How can I ask you to trust me if I don’t
trust you?
 
You’re sort of weird you
know.”

Focusing on the
business at hand, and not the small fortune in her pocket, Sarah rubbed her
chin thoughtfully, “I think I have your plan figured out.
 
You’re going to, ‘inscribe’ I believe you
called it, the weapons and armor I make then sell them, right?”

 
“Exactly my plan.”

Sarah wasn’t done
yet.
 
“There are a few things I would
like to know more about.”

With a flash of
pearly teeth, Raven said she was an open book.

“First off, could
you not simply buy the weapons you want to inscribe?
 
That is probably a lot easier than having a
partner.”
 
Sarah sat up straighter on her
stool and crossed her arms.

“Probably would be
a tad easier to do it that way, I suppose.” Raven agreed while she sat up and
crossed her arms, mocking Sarah in a friendly way.
 
“I could have already opened the store if I’d
gone that route.
 
Thing is, I don’t like
having to rely on strangers to help my money supply.
 
Plus I’d like to be able to do special orders
and give customers an idea of when they would be ready.”

“Second question,
and the most important, how are we going to do this without the Protectorate
shutting us down?”

Raven snorted
loudly.
 
“Valentria is not, and will not
be, under the boot heel of the Protectorate.
 
Our duchy is free to do as it wishes.”

Sarah mulled this
last bit of information over for a minute before standing up.
 
Then she nodded to her guest.
 
“You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

The two shook
hands and Raven promised, “I’ll come by tomorrow to speak with you again.”

After seeing Raven
out, Sarah locked the door with a bemused smile.
 
Her own shop, she thought as she started
getting ready for bed.
 
Standing alone in
the darkness, the girl studied her situation.
 
This ramshackle building was all she could afford now, and it served as
both a workshop and an apartment.
 
A
small shower and bedroom were located just off of the shop but gaps in the wood
made sleeping there impossible.
 
She
pulled her roll away cot out from beneath a shelf in the back.
 
After it was opened in front of the crackling
fire Sarah lay down to think over the day’s events.

 
She hadn’t even dared to dream of something
like her own private shop, with her own tools.
 
Money was very hard to come by these days and she wasn’t really sure how
she planned to buy groceries this week if Raven hadn’t been so quick with the
check.
 
Now here was someone offering her
everything she couldn’t even think about hoping for, someone with enough money
to pay her 500 gullions just to consider going into business.
 
That would pay the rent for two months and
give her a little cash to buy some much needed supplies.
 
But could she move was the question.
 
Could she trust this strange redhead who had
popped up like some mystical genie, granting wishes Sarah never thought to ask
for?

She flipped her
pillow over to fluff it and pulled the quilt tighter to ward off the night’s
chill the fire was just keeping at bay.
 
With a nod, she decided that she should at least go and look at the
place since there was nothing to lose.
 
Besides, her father would want her to be successful.