Glasswrights' Apprentice by Mindy L Klasky Page A

Rai?”
    â€œTo share? I don’t have -” Rani remembered the carrots she had dug reflexively from
Cook’s plot. “I’ve brought carrots from the garden.”
    â€œGarden! We Touched don’t ’ave gardens , girl. Don’t make me call ye a liar.”
    â€œNot my garden. The garden of the gl-” Rani’s assumed scorn melted as she
realized she could not even speak the name of her former home. These Touched brats might just be
waiting for the opportunity to summon the guard. Everyone knew you couldn’t trust the Touched,
especially not the bands of ragtag children who roamed the City unsupervised while their parents
worked as servants for the nobles and the priests. Rani swallowed a tight knot of fear and
reformulated her retort. “The garden at the stone heap Shanoranvilli’s soldiers are destroying. I
ducked through the wall they’re tearing down and helped myself. Those miserable guildsmen won’t have
any need of carrots when the king is through with them.”
    Either the swagger in Rani’s voice was convincing, or the children were awed by her bravery in facing down Shanoranvilli’s men. The crew stepped back, and even the leader paused before settling her possessive hand on the filthy roots. “Been chased by th’ kings’ men m’self, I’ve been. Can make a soul ’ungry.” Strong teeth crunched on carrots, and Rani dutifully produced roots for each of the other children. Rabe snatched two, and Rani was left with only one gnarled carrot for herself. Her loss was swiftly forgotten as the Touched’s leader extended a grimy hand. “Name’s Mair.”
    Each of the other children took their cue from their leader, and Rani found herself shaking one dirty paw after another. She barely resisted the urge to rub her hand against her thigh after each filthy contact, especially when a challenge sparked from Rabe’s eyes as he squeezed her fingers tightly.
    â€œSo, Rai,” Mair continued. “Ye dinna talk like ye’re from th’ City, at least not fro’ th’ Touched. Ye might watch that, y’know. If th’ guard ’eard ye, they’d ask ’ard questions. They’ve been a little crazed, since ’Is Lordship took that arrow in ’is eye.”
    â€œMay the Prince’s soul rest in peace,” Rani mumbled, lapsing into the etiquette her mother had pounded into her. The piety merely garnered a newly appraising look from the Touched children.
    â€œP’r’aps ye’re a Pilgrim’s child, forgotten i’ th’ City streets?”
    â€œNo, I -”
    â€œA Pilgrim’s child might not know our ways, ’n’ she might say th’ wrong things at th’ wrong time ’n’ be o’erlooked. By th’ Guard. Or by others i’ th’ Streets.”
    Before Rani could respond, a clatter of boots on cobblestones echoed from the far end of the alley. “Soldiers!” hissed Mair, and the children scattered into doorways and scraps of shadow. Rani, taken by surprise, did not leap with the same agility and was left exposed in the middle of the street.
    â€œRai-” came Mair’s strangled warning, bitten off as the guard turned down the narrow
lane. It was too late - Rani would only endanger the other children by following them into a doorway
now. The soldiers would not hesitate to round up the entire group, meting out whatever justice a
band of Touched urchins could expect on a misty morning when a prince had just been murdered.
    Muttering a prayer to her new patron, Lan, Rani drew herself up to her full height as the soldiers emerged from the mist. “On your knees before your betters, brat. We heard your whispering, and the curfew not over for another hour yet. Who were you talking to? And why shouldn’t we cut you down on the spot?”
    Rani froze as even more soldiers loomed out of the fog. Their voices were