Heroes in Training Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Acknowledgements

  Introduction

  ROOMIES

  THREE NAMES OF THE HIDDEN GOD

  THE PRINCESS, THE PAGE, AND THE MASTER COOK’S SON

  THE CHILDREN’S CRUSADE

  THE APPRENTICE

  BENEATH THE SKIN

  GIANTKILLER

  DRINKER

  KING HARROWHELM

  HONOR IS A GAME MORTALS PLAY

  THE WIZARD’S LEGACY

  A TOUCH OF BLUE - A Web Shiffters Story

  SIR APROPOS OF NOTHING AND THE ADVENTURE OF THE RECEDING HEIR

  About the Authors

  “T‘here can be only One!”

  “It is written!” said Margrove.

  “Where?” Sari asked. “It doesn’t make any sense. Aren’t there are least two? A master and an apprentice?”

  Margrove affected a merry chuckle. “Isn’t she charming? Have some wine, Princess. Now, where were we?”

  A servant in highly ornamented livery appeared from behind a screen. “This is Reginald,” said Margrove. “He is my most trusted servant. He will show you to the library. You may ask of him anything that you require. When I am gone, and one of you is master in my place, Reginald will serve you also.” Reginald, who stood behind Margrove, distinctly grimaced. He stepped forward and made a small bow. Sari recognized him from the hostile takeover at DataMagics. He’d been the one grimly walking down the corridor of cubicles handing out pink slips. Sari shuddered.

  “What happens to the other?” said Ivan. “The one who doesn’t solve the proof?”

  Lord Margrove shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid you must publish or perish.”

  —from “The Apprentice” by Catherine H. Shaffer

  Also Available from DAW Books:

  Places to Be, People to Kill, edited by Martin H. Greenberg and Brittiany A. Koren

  Assassins—are they born or made? And what does an assassin do when he or she isn’t out killing people? There are just some of the questions you’ll find answered in this all-original collection of tales. From Vree, the well-known assassin from Tanya Huff’s Quarters novels . . . to a woman whose father’s vengeful spirit forced her down dark magic’s bloody path . . . to an assassin seeking to escape his Master’s death spell . . . to the origins of the legendary nin-sha and the ritual of the hundredth kill . . . here are spellbinding stories of murder and mayhem, of shadowy figures who strike from night’s concealment or find their way past all safeguards to reach their unsuspecting victims. With stories by Jim C. Hines, S. Andrew Swann, Sarah A. Hoyt, Ed Gorman, and John Marco.

  Pandora’s Closet, edited by Martin H. Greenberg and Jean Rabe

  When Pandora’s Box was opened, so the ancient tale goes, all the evils that would beset humanity were released into the world, and when the box was all but empty, the only thing that remained was hope. Now some of fantasy’s finest, such as Timothy Zahn, Kevin J. Anderson & Rebecca Moesta, Louise Marley, and Sarah Zettel have taken on the task of opening Pandora’s closet, which, naturally, is filled with a whole assortment of items that can be claimed by people, but only at their own peril. From a ring that could bring its wearer infinite wealth but at a terrible cost . . . to a special helmet found in the most unlikely of places . . . to a tale which reveals what happened to the ruby slippers . . . to a mysterious box that held an ancient, legendary piece of cloth . . . to a red hoodie that could transform one young woman’s entire world, here are unforgettable stories that will have you looking at the things you find in the back of your own closet in a whole new light. . . .

  Army of the Fantastic, edited by John Marco and John Helfers

  How might the course of WWII have changed if sentient dragons ran bombing missions for the Germans? This is just one of the stories gathered in this all-original volume that will take you to magical places in our own world and to fantasy realms where the armies of the fantastic are on the march, waging wars both vast and personal. With stories by Rick Hautala, Alan Dean Foster, Tanya Huff, Tim Waggoner, Bill Fawcett, and Fiona Patton.

  Copyright © 2007 by Tekno Books and Jim C. Hines.

  eISBN : 978-0-756-40438-3

  All Rights Reserved.

  DAW Book Collectors No. 1416.

  DAW Books are distributed by Penguin Group (USA).

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious.

  Any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.

  The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal, and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  First Printing, September 2007

  DAW TRADEMARK REGISTERED

  U.S. PAT. AND TM. OFF. AND FOREIGN COUNTRIES

  —MARCA REGISTRADA

  HECHO EN U.S.A.

  PRINTED I NTHE U.S.A.

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Introduction, copyright © 2007 by Jim C. Hines “Roomies,” copyright © 2007 by Esther M. Friesner

  “Three Names of the Hidden God,” copyright © 2007 by Vera Nazarian

  “The Princess, the Page, and the Master Cook’s Son,” copyright © 2007 by Sherwood Smith

  “The Children’s Crusade,” copyright © 2007 by Robin Wayne Bailey

  “The Apprentice,” copyright © 2007 by Catherine H. Shaffer

  “Beneath the Skin,” copyright © 2007 by James Lowder

  “Giantkiller,” copyright © 2007 by G. Scott Huggins

  “Drinker,” copyright © 2007 by Michael Jasper

  “King Harrowhelm,” copyright © 2007 by Ed Greenwood

  “Honor is a Game Mortals Play,” copyright © 2007 by Eugie Foster

  “The Wizard’s Legacy,” copyright © 2007 by Michael A. Burstein

  “A Touch of Blue: A Web Shifters Story,” copyright © 2007 by Julie E. Czerneda

  “Sir Apropos of Nothing and The Adventure of the Receding Heir,” copyright © 2007 by Peter David

  INTRODUCTION

  Jim C. Hines

  Greetings, dear reader, and welcome to Heroes in Training.

  If you’re standing in a bookstore, please stop reading this introduction right now. Skip ahead and read through some of the thirteen stories contained in these pages. If these wonderful tales don’t make you run to the nearest cashier, nothing I say is likely to change your mind.

  Okay, so now you’ve bought the anthology.1 (Either that, or you’re still reading this introduction in the bookstore, blatantly ignoring my advice. I swear, you’re as bad as my kids.) Regardless, it’s time for me to tell a quick story.

  When I was younger, I went through a phase where I read nothing but Star Trek novels.2 After a few years and more than a hundred books crammed onto my sagging shelves, my parents finally snapped. They picked up a new novel by an author named Raymond E. Feist and pushed it into my hands.

  Magician: Apprentice told the tale of two boys, destined to become the most powerful wizard and warrior in their world. I devoured the book and the sequel, then waited impatiently for the next two in the series.

  There were more books, but those first four remain my favorites to this day. The scene when the magician Pug first challenges a full arena of wizards still gives me chills. Time and again I’ve followed these ordinary boys as they discover their destinies and struggle with the choices and responsibilities that come with their newfound power.

  There’s a special sense of wonder that comes from such stories. As readers, we w
ant to relate to our heroes. We put ourselves in the place of Luke Sky-walker, Paul Atreides, Frodo Baggins, and all the rest. I can’t even begin to count the number of Harry Potter-inspired costumes we saw last Halloween, including my own daughter “Hermione.” When we care about the heroes, we feel their struggles like our own. If the hero loses a loved one, we grieve with them. When a writer kills off one of our favorite heroes,3 the blow is almost as painful as if we’d lost a real friend.

  It can sometimes be difficult to relate to the full-grown hero. But the hero in training, the man or woman who starts out as ordinary as you or me: these are characters we can identify with. Take the new student in Esther Friesner’s “Roomies,” arriving for her first day at the Royal Academy of Damsels’ Arts. We’ve all been there. We’ve had dreams of showing up unprepared for a test, or finding ourselves clad in nothing but our underwear in the middle of our social studies presentation.4

  Then there’s the power of watching these characters grow throughout the story. I cheered as I read Robin Bailey’s “The Children’s Crusade,” following young Ari as he pushed the limits of his special gifts. Gifted or not, in many ways, Ari and his friends are ordinary kids, determined to accomplish the extraordinary. That determination gives the story its true magic.

  We love to see ordinary people become heroes. Whether it’s Kimet’s quiet courage in Sherwood Smith’s “The Princess, the Page, and the Master Cook’s Son,” or the bumbling luck of poor Jack in G. Scott Huggins’s “Giantkiller,” these stories inspire us.

  For some of the authors, this anthology also provides the opportunity to share a bit of background about their established characters. Mike Jasper has published a number of stories about his mysterious aliens, the Wannoshay. For the first time, we learn why the Wannoshay left their world, and we meet the lowly Drinker Iyannoloway who led the way. Julie Czerneda invites us to join her shape shifting alien Esen-alit-Quar as she embarks on her first visit to another world in the delightful tale “A Touch of Blue.” And those of you who are familiar with Peter David’s famous antihero Sir Apropos will appreciate the unique lessons he shares with his successor in “Sir Apropos of Nothing and the Adventure of the Receding Heir.”5

  What ties all of these stories together is that central theme of growth and discovery, the wonder of watching people push themselves beyond their limits, and the inspiration that stays with us long after we’ve closed the book. I’m honored to be the one presenting these stories, and I hope they bring you as much pleasure as they’ve brought me.

  ROOMIES

  Esther M. Friesner

  Auriana was sobbing, her face so deeply buried in a huge goosedown pillow that she wasn’t aware she had a visitor until a heavy hand fell on her shoulder and an unfamiliar voice demanded, “Are you all right? Why are you making that noise?”

  Auriana bolted upright on her bed. “Who are you? When did you get here? Who let you into my room?”

  Her uninvited caller took a step back and held up her hands, fending off the flurry of questions. “I’m a new student. My mother left me at the castle gate; then a sharp-faced woman came out and squawked, ‘Why are you here, you miserable creature? This is the Royal Academy of Damsels’ Arts, not a training center for trolls!’ I finally gave her the smallest box Mother sent along. Once that woman saw the gold, she got much nicer. She begged my pardon and told me that the light was bad, so it was no wonder she’d mistaken me for a troll instead of a damsel of quality. She brought me inside, called for a porter to fetch my trunk, and told me to go on ahead up to the topmost room in the eastern tower. Is this it? I’m not used to places this big and bustling.”

  Auriana wiped her eyes on the back of one hand, smiling for the first time all day. “That sounds like our headmistress, Lady Florinda. Was it a lot of gold?”

  The new girl made awkward gestures to describe the dimensions of the box. It was a big box and as such would have contained a lot of gold indeed. Auriana was puzzled. “That much? I’m surprised she sent you up here. By rights you should have one of the big suites on a lower floor. You certainly shouldn’t be forced to split this cramped little nest with a roommate.”

  The girl shrugged. “I don’t mind. Mother said that what I’ll learn in the classroom won’t be half as useful as what I’ll pick up from mingling with people. Will you be comfortable, sharing a room with me?”

  Auriana looked a little wistful. “You’re the first person who ever asked about my comfort, and this is my third year at the Academy. For that alone, I’m overjoyed to have you here.”

  “Really?” The girl’s plain face lit with joy. “Then please, don’t worry; this room is more than good enough for me. I like heights. At home, I always climbed as high as I could go, just to enjoy the view.” She crossed the floor to the turret room’s lone window. It was little more than an arrow-slit, but the girl looked out over the landscape below in rapture. “I can be happy here,” she said.

  Can you? Auriana thought. The longer she looked at her new roommate, the more she understood why this girl had been sent to the smallest, most out-of-the-way room in the entire Academy, and why she would most likely spend her term of study being treated like a jewel-encrusted chamber pot—highly valued but forever stowed out of sight. Through no fault of her own she was that most unfortunate phenomenon, a damsel-in-training with all the glamour and charm of a mud fence.

  Auriana sized up the newcomer’s appearance with a compassionate but honest eye. Where she herself was tall and willowy, with the creamy skin, golden hair and brilliant blue eyes most desirable in trainee damsels, the other was short, brunette, and built like a block of granite. Her face was square and as brown as if it belonged to a peasant wench who’d spent her life laboring in the fields. With wide lips, a pug nose, and a round, fleshy chin, she distinctly lacked that ethereal delicacy eternally touted as a maiden’s beau idéal by the instructors at the Royal Academy of Damsels’ Arts. It was as if some waggish god had opened Lady Pandecora’s immortal Ye Parfaite Gentylle Demoiselle to the chapter on “Fairenesse of Ye Face & Phyzyque” and then set about creating a being who embodied the opposite of every attribute on Ye Olde Cheque-Liste of Manifold Maidenly Beauties. The newcomer’s only striking feature was a burning emerald gaze so wide, so clear, so brilliant that the effect was stunning.

  But eyes alone did not a beauteous damsel make. Auriana had been at the Academy long enough to know the way of things. Gold would open the gates, but once inside, grace and beauty were what counted with both faculty and students alike. If you didn’t have both, plus riches, your time within the castle walls was a daily dollop of hell.

  And don’t I know it, Auriana thought. I’m sick and tired of the nasty remarks, the jibes, the way the other girl treat me like an old rag just because I haven’t got their clothes or jewels or family connections. But all that’s nothing compared to what this poor lass will have to endure. She might as well go to class with an archery target strapped to her back. It’s not fair, but that’s how it is.

  A fresh realization struck her: That’s how it is, but it’s not the way I’ll let it be.

  She extended a hand in welcome. “My name is Auriana of Kestrel’s Keep. I hope we can be friends.”

  The newcomer made no move to take Auriana’s hand in her own stubby paws. She seemed entirely bewildered about how to reciprocate the companionable gesture, though she was more than eager to say, “Call me Brandella.” She paused, then added, “When I came in, why were you doing that?” She did a peculiar imitation of Auriana’s earlier bout of weeping.

  That’s odd, Auriana thought. Hasn’t she seen people cry? I know that some of the girls here come from distant, exotic lands with strange customs, but still—Aloud she said, “I’m sorry you had to see that, Brandella. It wasn’t much of a welcome for you. I was crying because I was feeling very lonely and sorry for myself.”

  “Lonely . . .” Brandella seemed to try on the word for size. “There are so many people in this castle, how can you be lonely?”
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  “There’s no trick to that, given our fellow students,” Auriana said bitterly. “I told Mother that this place would be crammed with snobs, but she said I was spinning tales just because I didn’t want to come here. And that’s true, I didn’t; she made me.”

  “You too?” Brandella’s astonishing eyes filled with surprise and sympathy.

  Auriana nodded. “My family’s fallen on hard times. Mother’s convinced that the only way for us to recoup our fortunes is for me to make a great marriage.”

  “Then why did she send you here?” Brandella asked. “Isn’t this where you learn to be a-a-a damsel in distraught?”

  “Distress,” Auriana corrected her automatically. She folded her hands in Attitude # 23A from the Manual of Applied Demureness and recited: “ ‘Ladies, pay no heed to those who claim that the full glory of the quest fulfilled, the peril overcome, the monster slain needs must go to the warrior, knight, or prince whose sword achieves the goal. Were it not for the presence of a suitably distressed damsel, these adventurings would be only so many boyish jaunts through the countryside, with or without attendant mayhem and property damage. It is the addition of the damsel that confers legitimacy upon all these somewhat rowdy endeavors. Ladies, they need us far more than we need them. No man may deem himself a hero unless his record boasts the rescue of at least one lady fair, and he who would seal his claim to the highest accolades of valor will do the done thing by the rescued maiden at his exploit’s end.’ ”

  She finished speaking, made a perfunctory curtsey, then added: “That was from Queen Nicolette’s First Admonition to Her Unmarried Daughters. I used it for my piece in the declamation contest last spring.”