The Apprentice of Unfinished Maps

How it begins

Wren's map had misplaced a village.

She blamed the ink until the village bell stopped ringing.

At the workshop window, the coastline had shortened.

Three houses, a jetty and the baker's blue awning were gone.

Wren put down her pen.

"Master?"

Her teacher was upstairs pretending not to hear customers.

"Maps don't change the coast," he called.

"I was hoping you'd say that."

"What happened?"

She looked at the blank patch on the parchment.

"I corrected a mistake."

The door opened before he came downstairs.

An old man in a sailor's coat stood on the threshold. He carried a rolled chart and a loaf of bread with flour still clinging to its crust.

"The baker said you needed this."

Wren stared at the loaf.

"There isn't a baker."

"There was ten minutes ago."

He placed it on her desk.

The chart beneath his arm bore a familiar mark. A black gull with one wing missing.

Hector Bell. Pirate. Smuggler. Subject of several songs her teacher considered unsuitable for apprentices.

"You erased that village," he said.

"I corrected the scale."

"That's how it starts."

Her teacher appeared at the foot of the stairs.

For the first time since Wren had known him, he looked old.

"Hector."

"She's going to need the boat."

"She's an apprentice."

"Then she's going to need to learn quickly."

Wren looked between them.

Outside, another bell stopped.

On her map, a narrow line of white space crept toward the next harbor.

She took the bread and broke it.

Warm steam rose from the middle.

People still existed somewhere. They were still baking, buying, standing in doorways, waiting to be drawn correctly.

"What do I need to bring?" she asked.

Hector looked at her pens.

"Something that doesn't erase."

Wren chose the cheapest one.

It had always been the hardest to correct.