Sapphire Eyes

Chapter 1: The Prophecy

Amber muttered under her breath as she fished her science homework out of the toilet. Four years since her Tests. Four years, and nothing had changed. She was beginning to wonder if she would ever shake the shame of being the only sewercaste in the school to have magic. Not that being sewercaste wasn’t something to be ashamed about in its own right.

It wasn’t as if she’d decided to have magic. Either you had it, or you didn’t. You were born with it, and nothing could stop it from showing itself.

Amber gathered up her schoolwork with a sigh and headed home. The air was cold and windy, whipping her long black hair around her face. She clutched her books to her chest and kept her golden eyes on the ground, where autumn’s red leaves danced in whirlwinds around her feet. Overhead, dark storm clouds gathered, threatening rain. Amber shivered and drew her tattered cloak more closely around herself.

The road on which she was walking was narrow and paved in ancient sandstone bricks. The buildings all around her seemed to lean in over her. As Amber walked, she leapt over rain-filled potholes in the road. No one ever came to repair these streets.

She shivered again. Her clothes were all old, tattered and moth eaten. Her dress no longer fit properly- the hem swung high above her ankles, leaving them open to the freezing autumn air. Even she could no longer remember what color it had been; it was so faded and dirty, no one could guess its true color. All her clothes were grayish brown now.

Amber turned down an alleyway and squeezed between two buildings. It was tight, so much so that she had to turn sideways and walk with her back to the wall. The ground was littered with tin cans and plastic bottles. She growled under her breath as her cloak caught on a piece of re-bar and tore.

As if her day couldn’t get any worse, the sky opened up and it began to rain. In seconds, Amber was soaked to the bone. Muttering about stupid weather gods, she stumbled out of the little alley and out onto a wide road. On one side there was a row of buildings; on the other, a huge sandstone wall, towering over her head.

She glared at the wall, which separated the beautiful marble homes of the uppercaste and nobles from the grungy shops and apartments of the lowercastes like Amber and her family. “It’s people like you that keep people like us living in ruin!” She hissed at it, wishing the people behind it could hear her. Then, shaking her head at herself, she turned and ran down the road as the rain poured down in sheets all around her.

A minute latter, she stood under the awning of the Open Air Grocery, clutching a loaf of bread as the grocer lifted a manhole cover for her. “Thank you.” She murmured as she walked past him, and she dropped a copper piece on the ground in front of him. A single piece wasn’t much, but the bread she’d bought was the baker’s worst- coarse and gritty, old, and full of worms, too. Still, it was better than nothing, and her family couldn’t afford to buy anything else. Amber sighed as she tucked the bread under her arm along with her schoolwork and began to climb down into the sewer.

She reached the bottom of the ladder and stopped, looking out at the river of sewage in front of her. It was a little higher and less sluggish then usual, but the bridge across it was still fine. It was an old, rickety, rusty bridge, cobbled together from bits of pipes and an occasional wooden plank, but it worked and that was all that mattered. Smiling, Amber strolled across it, feeling better. She was almost home, and, though it was meager, they would have dinner tonight.

Reaching the other side of the bridge, she turned left and walked along the narrow concrete path that ran alongside the sewage river. Her way was lit by torches, and they flickered as she walked past. She could hear muffled voices coming from the walls- the sounds of families laughing, crying, and chatting together. She could also hear the high-pitched crying of a toddler. Sighing, she stopped suddenly, swept aside a heavy curtain so old and moldy it looked like part of the wall, and stepped into the small space she and her family called home.

Immediately she was surrounded by her siblings- Lise, age 10, Amethyst, 6, and Beryl, 4. Beryl was sobbing and screaming and Amethyst was crying as they all hugged her and tugged at her clothes, begging for food.

“Mama’s gone again.” Lise told Amber in a tired voice as she hugged her hard. Amber sighed and kissed Lise’s cheek before gently pushing her away and handing her the loaf of bread.

“It’s only to be expected, I guess.” She said over Beryl’s wails. “She never stays long. Not since...” She stopped, fighting back tears. Even after 3 years, the memory of her baby brother’s death still haunted her.

“Amber?” Lise said worriedly. “You all right?”

Amber shook her head to clear her thoughts and said, “I’m okay. I was... I was thinking about Kopar.”

Lise had been very close to Kopar before he got sick. She hugged Amber tightly, saying, “It’ll be all right, Amber. We still have each other, and Amethyst, and Beryl, and Dennar, and we’ll all take care of each other, forever. Right?”

Amber smiled at Lise, then looked around the room. The dim yellow light came from four torches- one on each wall except the entrance, and one hanging from the center of the ceiling. It was that hanging lamp that provided the most light. It branched out and held five torches at once.

In the center of the room, directly under the hanging lamp, was a table made from a rectangular piece of plywood resting on two metal pipes, a wooden barrel, and a traffic cone. It was uneven and rickety, but it was the best they could do. For chairs, they used wooden fruit crates the kind grocer had given them.

Over in one corner was a pile of ragged blankets. At night, Amber and her older brother, Dennar, spread them out for the others to sleep on. Then Dennar went to work, and Amber would sing lullabies to her sisters before she went to sleep.

In the other corner, Amber’s father lay in a drunken stupor, as was usual. Her mother, as Lise had said, wasn’t there- and neither was Dennar.

“Where’s Denn?” Amber asked Lise, using her brother’s nickname. Lise, who had been searching for a bread knife, looked up and scowled.

“Off courting Enna again.” She snapped. “That’s where he always is.”

Amber smiled. She’d disliked Enna at first, thinking her haughty and spoiled, but once she’d gotten to know her, she’d realized how wrong she’d been.

“You should be happy for him.” She told Lise as, behind her, Amethyst tried to hush Beryl. “Dennar and Enna make a good couple. And she’s Servantcaste. If Dennar marries her, he’ll get out of the sewers.”

“Exactly!” Lise cried, slamming her fist into the table. “We’ll never get to see him again! And we hardly ever get to see him as it is, ‘cause he’s always off visiting Enna! I hate her!” She slumped down onto a wooden crate and started to cry.

“Oh, Lise!” Amber sighed, sitting down next to her. “Denn will visit us as often as possible, you know that. I can understand how you feel, but, Lise, Dennar loves Enna. He’s so deeply in love, nothing in the world could keep him from her.” She wrapped her arm around Lise and gave her a little squeeze. “Not even us.” She whispered. “And you know how much he loves us.”

“I know.” Lise said. “But, Amber, we need him. I can’t take care of Amethyst and Beryl all by my self. For now, at least, I have you, but how long will that last?” She started to cry again. “You’re almost 14, Amber. You’ll get married soon, too. And then I’ll be all alone.”

Amber kissed Lise’s head and held her close. “I’m not getting married anytime soon, Lise.” She whispered. “And I won’t ever leave you, no matter what. I promise.”

Lise sniffed and said, “But Henry said-”

“Don’t you listen to a word that idiot says.” Amber snapped. “Can’t he get it through his thick skull? We broke up a week ago and he keeps acting like we just had a little spat or something. He’s such a self-absorbed git. I hate him.” She glanced down at Lise and asked, “Why were you talking to him, anyway?”

Lise snuggled up against Amber and said, “He came looking for you. Said he had something important to tell you. I said you were at school and he just gave me a weird look and said, ‘Amber goes to school?’” She laughed. “He is stupid. I’m glad you’re not marrying him.”

For a moment they just sat in each other’s arms in silence; then Lise said, “I’m starving. Let’s eat.”

Immediately Amethyst and Beryl started clamoring for food again. They’d only managed to stay quiet for so long because of a beetle Amethyst had found, which had commanded their interest for the duration of Lise and Amber’s conversation. Now Lise’s words had reminded them that they were hungry.

Amber laughed and said, “All right, all right, enough! Quiet! You’ve got the knife, Lise, so cut the bread! Let’s eat!”

Amber yawned and sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. It was morning, and she felt good. For once, her belly was full. Last night, Dennar had showed up with a basket of fruit under his arm, right after they’d finished their loaf of bread. He’d said Enna gave it to him, and even Lise had had to admit that that was nice of her. Amber had eaten two apples and a pear. It was the first time she’d felt full in years.

Smiling at the memory, Amber snatched a pear from the basket, which still sat on the table, and put it in her pocket for lunch. Then she grabbed an apple for breakfast and bit into it as she left for school.

Today was not a normal school day. Today was far more important than that. Amber whistled as she scrambled out of the sewer, happy just from thinking about it. Today she was going to be tested by government officials to see how powerful her magic was. If it was powerful enough, she would be raised from sewercaste to servantcaste, and she could bring her family to live with her, since their parents were incapable of raising children. Amber added a skip to her step. With all the little bits of magic she could do, she was sure she had enough power.

As she hurried down the street, Amber pulled a mirror from her pocket. Inspecting herself in its rusted reflection, she grimaced. Her hair was a mess and her face was coated with dirt. Smiling, she decided to use one of the few little magic tricks she’d managed to teach herself.

Concentrating on her hair, she placed the tip of her index finger on her temple and whispered, “Change.” Her long black hair began to writhe and whip around her head, braiding itself far more neatly than she ever could have done by hand.

Next she focused on her face. Whispering, “Clean,” she watched as the grime faded away into nothing. Grinning, she shoved her mirror into her pocket again and darted around a corner.

Someone grabbed her, and she found her self pressed against a wall, staring up into the crazed brown eyes of her ex-boyfriend, Henry.

“Why’d you say we broke up?” He demanded. “It idn’t true! I never broke up wit you.”

He was so close, Amber had no difficulty smelling the alcohol on his breath, and her experience with her father’s drunkenness made it easy for her to recognize it. “Henry, you’re drunk!” She cried, starting to feel frightened.

“So?” He demanded. “I’m old enough. I kin do whatever I want to. And I wanna marry you. So you’re gonna marry me, got it?” When Amber didn’t answer him immediately, he grew angry and slammed her against the wall. “Got it?” He demanded.

Amber glared at him. “You’re a git, Henry.” She spat at him, and then slapped him hard across his face. As he stumbled away from her, touching his cheek and looking shocked, she hissed, “Never touch me again. I will not marry you, not now, not ever. Leave me alone!” Then she whirled around and fled down the street. She didn’t stop running until she reached her school.

She stood by her beat-up locker and leaned against it, catching her breath. Henry had always been a git, but he’d never really been drunk before. He’d had small amounts of alcohol, but never enough to make him anything more than tipsy. He was, after all, only 14 - in fact, he was almost exactly seven months older than Amber.

Henry had started courting Amber three months ago. She’d been flattered. Well, all right, more than flattered. She’d been delighted. After all, no one had even spoken to her since before the Mage Tests. He was the only boy who’d ever even smiled at her. She should have known he was an asshole. Only an asshole would ever have courted her.

Dennar had explained it all to her after she broke up with Henry. Henry, being a self-absorbed git, had alienated himself from all the other children. None of them would even talk to him. And most of the time, he didn’t care. But he’d realized that, if he ever intended to marry- and it would be unacceptable not to marry- he’d have to get a girl to like him. And the easiest way of doing that was to talk to a girl who no one ever spoke to, who, therefore, would know nothing about Henry. And that meant Amber. He’d never really cared about her at all; he just wanted to marry someone, and never mind who.

She’d often thought it wrong that children started courting so young. After all, if you were eight and being courted, it wasn’t as if you were going to get married. And some boys courted multiple girls at once. It was, Amber realized, just an excuse to kiss someone. It was disgusting, how preoccupied everyone was with courtship and marriage. Even Lise was.

Sighing, Amber pulled her mirror out again and smiled when she saw that her hair was still tidy and her face was still clean. The liquid gold, amber-colored eyes that gave her her name were glittering with unshed tears of anger. Amber smiled, turned, and headed for the gym, where she would take her second Mage Test.

The door to the gym was a heavy gray metal one with a handle you push instead of a doorknob. Swallowing her nervousness, Amber pushed hard on the handle, using all her weight to open it. It creaked forwards, and she darted forward through the gap into the room. A vast empty space stretched out in front of her, and she wondered, not for the first time, why any school would need such a huge gym.

The door closed behind her with a clang that made her jump. Taking a deep, calming breath, she started forwards. In the center of the gym stood a gray card table, the kind that folds up for easy travel. Behind it sat two men in white pants and dark gray tunics. They were the only other people in the room.

Her heart pounding, Amber walked up to them and, with a quick bow, said, “M-my name is Amber Yondinarsa, and I-I’m here to have my magic tested.” Inwardly, she flinched at how squeaky and frightened her voice sounded, but the two men didn’t seem to have noticed.

The taller of the duo turned to the other man and said, “See, Tor? I told you she’d see right through it. Go on, give the girl ten points!” He seemed delighted.

While Amber stared in confusion, the shorter man, Tor, snatched a clipboard off the card table and made some marks on it, grumbling the whole time.

Then the taller man, whose long, platinum-blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, turned back to Amber. His eyes glittered as he asked her, “What color eyes do I have, girl?”

Amber leaned forward and peered at his eyes. For one confusing moment, they seemed to have no color at all; then they turned gray, and after another moment, they changed color again, becoming green. Amber waited to see if they would change again, and when they didn’t, she straightened up and announced, “Green.”

“Splendid!” The tall man cried. “Absolutely wonderful! Tor, give her another ten points!” As Tor started scribbling on the clipboard again, Amber realized the test must have already begun- and by the looks of it, she was doing well.

The tall man leaned towards her and said, “Now watch the air around me.” He snapped his fingers and suddenly a dome of brilliant green flames surrounded both men and the entire card table as well. Startled, Amber took a step back.

“Do you see something?” The tall man asked eagerly.

Amber’s voice shook as she answered, “I see flames- g-green flames, a dome of bright green flames.”

“Terrific!” The tall man cried, and the flames vanished. “Tor, another 20 points!”

And so it went. Next Amber had to look at three doves and say which one was really a dove. That one was easy. All she had to do was close one eye and she could see right through the illusions. All three birds were actually toads. After that, there were several more of the same sort of thing, and then she had to demonstrate each charm she knew. Both men seemed impressed by the cleaning spell she had used on her face.

Then, as she was trying to get a diamond to light up like a torch, Tor suddenly spoke up.

“The amulet wants to see her, Alan.” He said, taking hold of his clipboard and beginning to scribble furiously. The tall man, Alan, stopped cold.

“The amulet?” He squeaked. “B-but - but Tor, she’s only sewercaste-”

“And you’ve seen for yourself how powerful she is.” Tor said. “Alan, the amulet can feel her even through the iron. It knows. Be so kind as to go get the crystal. I have a feeling the king will want to see this.”

Alan hesitated, then bowed and murmured, “As you wish, Keeper.” Turning, he hurried off to get the crystal.

As he left, Amber stared at Tor. “The king?” She squeaked. “The king is coming here?” Her heart pounded wildly. She’d never dreamed she might get to see the king one day, and she had certainly never expected to be of interest to him.

“Don’t be ridiculous, child.” Tor said, snorting. “He’ll be watching us through a magic crystal, that’s all.”

Amber swallowed hard. “What are you going to do?” She asked. “Will it hurt? What’s this amulet thing? Why’d the other man call you Keeper?”

Tor laughed. “So many questions, child.” He said. “I will attempt to explain. The amulet is a powerful magic artifact from long, long ago. No one knows what its original purpose is, but it was steeped in such powerful magic that it has gained intelligence. It can meld its consciousness with someone and then communicate with them mind-to-mind. This person is called the Keeper of the Amulet, and it is their duty to care for the amulet. I am the current Keeper. The amulet has spoken to me and told me that it wishes to see you, or, more accurately, it wants to be closer to you so it may measure the strength of your power. That is what we use it for now. It is very accurate, although those whose magic is not strong enough often feel pain in its presence. You have no reason to fear, child.” He added as Amber began to shake with fear again. “The amulet has assured me you have enough power to stand it. In fact, you will most likely be made a noble. Your aura is very strong.”

Alan came hurrying back into the room, a huge, clear rectangular crystal floating just behind him. He stopped by the card table and directed the crystal down onto it with a wave of his hand.

It was a smooth, flat rectangle of clear quartz. It sat upright on the table, its polished surface gleaming.

As soon as Alan stepped away from it, it crackled with white fire, and an image of the king flickered into view. He glared straight at Amber with piercing ice blue eyes, paused and snapped, “Well? Bow, child.”

Startled, Amber dropped to her knees and groveled in front of him, her heart pounding. She hadn’t realized she’d have to bow. She’d thought that only applied to seeing the king in person. Of course, until now she hadn’t realized you could see the king any other way.

“Get up.” The king snapped. “Let’s get this over with.”

Trembling, Amber rose to her feet once more as Tor took a small black velvet pouch from his belt. Reaching inside, he pulled out a small iron box. Even from several feet away, Amber could feel power rolling off of it in waves. Mesmerized, she watched as Tor opened the box and took out a necklace. The pendant was a small oval of gold with a black opal center, and it hung from a delicate golden chain. Tor placed it almost reverently on a black velvet cushion on the card table.

Amber couldn’t help herself. Something seemed to pull her towards the amulet, and she stumbled forward towards it. Slowly she lifted it off its cushion and gently placed it around her neck.

Immediately everything changed. Amber was floating in empty black space, deep and silent as death. A pale light appeared, growing until it swallowed everything, and Amber found herself standing in the front of a crowd of mourners. Before her was a massive black marble coffin, and behind her she could hear sobbing. A woman’s voice wailed, “But I didn’t mean to kill him!” A scream rang out, shattering the coffin like glass, and suddenly Amber was suspended in darkness again. A voice spoke, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once.

“There is a man who holds great power. Let him be afraid, for his power is his downfall. There is a child whom he loves too much. His others suffer from this. Let him be afraid, for his love is obsession, and shall bring naught but pain. This coffin is his. Let it be known unto him, that his death was murder. Let it be known unto him, his betrayal comes from the hatred he sees in these Sapphire eyes.” As the voice spoke, a pair of blue eyes opened out of the blackness, glaring at Amber with such fierce loathing that they made her shiver.

Then, as suddenly as the vision had come, it was gone. Amber was once more in the gym, standing in front of the crystal. Startled by the sudden change, she stumbled, and someone behind her caught her and helped her stand again. Turning, she realized it was Alan, and his face was as pale as chalk. Behind him, Tor still sat behind the card table, but in the crystal, the king no longer sat in his throne. Instead, he was pacing, stroking his sparse beard fretfully as he murmured furiously about unusual occurrences, following protocol, and completely unexpected quantities of power. Then, abruptly, he stopped and announced, “There’s simply no way around it! The law is the law, and it’s very clear; she has the most power, and, therefore, she must marry into the royal family so that the magic in our bloodline remains the most powerful. And so she must marry my son, Prince Silver.” He sighed and sank back down into his throne, his eyes closed.

Amber’s mouth dropped open. “What?” She gasped. “B-b-but-”

“Honestly, girl, I’d rather not do this, but the law is explicit. You will be brought to the palace for the remainder of the time before the wedding. Lord Tor,” He added, turning to face the amulet’s Keeper, “Please cast a sleep spell on her to keep her from escaping and bring her to the servant’s gate. The maids will have been instructed as to what to do with her.”

Then the king’s image flickered and vanished.

Before Amber even had time to register what the king had said, Tor turned to her and spoke a word that seemed more like a color than a sound, and she found herself drifting off to sleep.