Uncrossed Paths
By Kelly Stanaway
Copyright Kelly Stanaway 2011
Cover Design by Raegan Millhollin
Other Titles
The Light Rises
More to come
Unexpected Apprentice
The ship he had come in on was dwarfed by the large naval ships in port, and he was forced to make his way through large crowds of people in an attempt to get to the closest pub. He’d come there before on previous trips to the small country of Ireland, the people were always so welcoming. He dusted off his jacket and made sure his side bag was still with him after he managed to push through the sea of people to get to the bar, making sure the bartender saw him, “Whiskey.”
“Been a while since you’ve been around these parts, Eugene,” the bartender gave a toothy grin as he filled the small glass with the golden liquid, “Wondered how long you’d be away this time.”
“Just over a year apparently, I can’t stay away. The weather’s always so much nicer here than at home,” he smiled, holding up the glass towards the man, taking a quick look around, “It’s busy today though. I wasn’t expecting the party.”
The bartender chuckled again as he too looked around at the people inside his place of business, “The boys are back, so everyone’s enjoying themselves. What are you up here for this time? A relaxing vacation?”
“Business actually, you know how my studies can get sometimes,” he gave a half smile, pushing a bit of his blond hair away from his eyes. Eugene’s interests had often led him to other places than England, most recently he’d returned from Russia to see the effects of fire magic during the winter. Now he was obsessed with a local myth that he had decided needed looking into immediately.
“Aye, of course I do, well not your kinds of studies,” the bartender picked up a cloth and started cleaning out some of the pint glasses, “Magic was never my specialty.”
The man took the shot as he chuckled, letting the alcohol burn down his throat, “It’s not for everyone that is true. However I say you just don’t have the right drive for it.” He smiled then looked around at the joyful gathering of patrons before he looked back at the bartender, “Any idea where I can find a clover patch?”
“Have you tried going outside?” the bartender responded dryly, then shook his head as though just realizing the magician had been serious, “If you go to the fields outside of town you should find more than you will know what to do with. Are you trying to catch yourself a leprechaun or something?”
Eugene left the tip on the counter, his eyes already on the door, “Yes something like that.” It was another test against the crowd to get outside, but eventually he made it. The fields were large and a brighter green than he had seen anywhere else he’d traveled, which he took a quick moment to mentally compare to see if he was correct. Digging through grass wasn’t something he preferred to do, but if it meant he could try his experiment, it would be worth it, especially if it worked. The patches of clover he found were soft enough he could have used them as a pillow, but he resisted, sifting through them until he came across one with four leaves. He grinned victoriously as he held it up to the sky, silently counting the leaves several more times to make absolutely sure he had found the right one before he pressed it into the journal he had brought in his side-bag. Only six more to go.
Hours must have passed, because when he had finally found his seventh four-leaf-clover, the sun was starting to set over the western horizon. Eugene started back down the dirt road he’d come from to get to the field, but stopped when he watched a crying woman turn down a side path towards a small, rather old looking shack. The walls looked weak, the roof was obviously in need of repair, and the entire building appeared as though one bad windstorm would cause the whole thing to fall over. It wasn’t proper to simply leave a woman to cry, so he followed her, knocking on the rickety door after she had walked inside, “Everything alright in there?”
“Yes! Everything’s fine! Please go away!” came the woman’s reply, though her words became hushed after a baby’s cries filled the air.
“Miss, please open the door, I would feel wrong just walking away,” Eugene knocked again, refusing to follow his normal instincts to shut himself away and simply return to his studies, however with the baby crying, he really couldn’t just ignore it.
After several moments the door finally opened, the woman looked up at him, her eyes were tired and a shade of red that almost matched her hair. The baby in her arms wearing a simple white dress, was looking over her shoulder at something that appeared to be incredibly more interesting than the, “What do you want?”
“I saw you crying, I wanted to make sure you were alright,” he touched the child’s cheek to get the tiny girl’s attention, her eyes were as green as the fields he had just come from, “She shouldn’t have to see her mother so sad.”
“Yes well, what else would you have me do?” she looked over the man nervously, “It’s hard out there. You have no idea how hard it is to get work when you have a baby at home no one will watch.”
Eugene tilted his head curiously, “No, I honestly don’t. Might I come in, we can talk inside.” He shook his head when he noticed her tense up, “Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ve stayed in inns that are far worse, and I won’t be long. I just want to talk.”
She hesitated, but did let the man into the small house, it had no more than three rooms, the main space doubled as a kitchen, there was a door off to the side that likely led to a small bedroom, which he assumed had access to a bathroom. There was one table, one chair, and a couch that looked as though it would fall apart if sat in, “I would say make yourself at home, but I don’t expect you to.” The woman placed the baby on the floor next to the old couch, which she took a seat in, a miracle causing it not to break, “What do you want to talk about?”
“Is her father one of the sailors that came into port?” Eugene looked at her curiously, his eyes slowly watching as the baby crawled along the floor, using the couch to give her leverage to get to her feet.
“He…was,” the woman spoke softly, pulling at her skirt, “He came into port almost a year ago, we were to be married but…he never came home. Now the town sees me as an unwed mother, and they just look the other way. Any money I get goes to her so she can eat, I don’t know how much longer I can live like this…”
Normally academics and logic beat out any sort of compassion or conscience he had, that was how it usually was for many magicians, especially ones that would travel the world in search of things that the magical colleges would be happy to remind him would get him into a fairly large amount of trouble if the constabulary found out. However, this woman in this pathetic of a state was tugging at him, images from his own childhood flashed in his memory, though it may have also been the baby girl pulling on his side-bag, trying to get inside it. He picked her up carefully, though she still refused to let go. Her curiosity was obvious, but she couldn’t be more than seven months old and she was already walking; this little girl was going to be brilliant and it felt almost a waste to leave her like this, “Tell me, have you heard of leprechauns?”
“What? Of course I have,” The woman looked up at Eugene as though he were crazy, “Why would you ask something like that?”
“They say if you put seven four-leaf-clovers on your windowsill at dawn, in direct sunlight, one will come and leave you gold,” Eugene managed to pull his journal out of the sack, the baby seeming delighted to now be able to see inside let out a joyous cry, “I happen to have seven of them in here.”
The woman instantly stood, reaching out for the book, but pulled her arms back against her chest, “I…I couldn’t…you found those. It would be your gold.”
“A trade then,” he answered
with a slight shrug, raising an eyebrow as the baby put her whole head into the bag, “You can keep the clovers, in exchange…I will get an apprentice.”
“Apprentice?” she breathed, it took the woman a moment to realize he was talking about the child, “You want to take my baby?”
“She is nothing but a hardship to you, and a mother who has nothing but unconditional love for their child would never let a person like me simply pick them up,” he gave the woman a cold stare, until she looked down towards her feet, shame obviously coming over her, “She’s also going to be very smart, I see her being a wonderful magician the future, and I would be delighted to be able to be the one to teach her. Tell me, what is her name?”
“Elizabeth,” the woman spoke softly, holding her hands out to take the small, almost dried plants from the man’s book, “Elizabeth MacDougal.”
He nodded, slipping the book back into the bag as she recoiled, clutching the four-leaf-clovers protectively, “I will remember her name, and will let her decide if she wishes to keep it.”
“Please take care of her,” she looked up at the man, again tears were filling her eyes, “Just…don’t tell her about me. I don’t want her to know what a terrible person I was. I never deserved her, and I don’t deserve your charity.”
“She will learn everything I know, and hopefully more,” he looked at the baby as she stared up at him with her emerald green eyes, her short hair resting just above them, “and if she asks, she will know only about this deal.” Eugene turned and went to leave, making sure the baby was protected by his jacket, looking over his shoulder at the woman before passing through the door, “As for the charity, think of this as a chance for you to start a new life, where you don’t have to worry about the accusing stares of those around you. You can live without worries for yourself, or your child, I hope those clovers bring you what you’re looking for.”
There were only a few that gave him looks because of the baby girl wrapped in his jacket. Eugene decided it would be for the best if he just got right back on the boat he’d come in on. At first she’d cried because her mother was gone, but eventually she’d calmed down and had become more interested in the new surroundings. The trip back to London wouldn’t take too long, and luckily he had the funding to pay the captain for his troubles. He watched the little girl as she wandered around the small cabin, though he did make sure she didn’t do anything that would get her hurt, or lost. He wondered what he should teach her first, well after talking and reading, and other basic motor skills, when it came to the various schools of magic. All of the options seemed like a good one to pick, though he wanted to make sure it was a logical choice which would benefit this little girl the most, and open up a world of possibilities to her.
It wasn’t until he had been writing in his journal and she got dangerously close to touching the candle flame he was making brighter with his magic and he had to pull her hand away before she was hurt, that he made his decision. “I believe we will start with fire magic.” Eugene had been expecting her to be delighted by what he’d said, but all she did was start crying because what she’d wanted to touch was taken away from her. Setting the candle aside he picked up the baby girl and tried rocking her, but still she cried. He got up and started walking around the room, trying to let her see things that had been too high up for her to notice before, which did calm her down some, but didn’t relieve the sense of panic that had momentarily come over him. He hoped the trip back to London would indeed be a quick one, he had some other, non-magic related reading to do, for he had no idea how to raise a child.
My Sweet French Flower