Even more interesting the older girl, Selene, had two spirits hovering beside her, one that seemed fluid and nebulous, and another with sharp, crystalline edges. Will could sense extreme concentrations of turyn within all four of the elementals, particularly the flame that hung beside Lord Nerrow.
While the three visitors were seated, Will’s mother was standing. She shot Will a warning glance as he came in, though he had no idea what she might want to tell him.
No one spoke at first, so Will did the honors. “You called for me, sir?”
The younger girl corrected him, “Daddy should be addressed as ‘Your Lordship’ or ‘my lord.’”
Lord Nerrow frowned and snapped his fingers. “Laina, don’t interrupt if you want me to bring you on any more trips.” He turned his attention back to Will. “Take a seat, young man.”
Will glanced at his mother, who was still standing submissively at one side. “I’d rather not, Your Lordship, since my mother is still on her feet.”
Erisa was alarmed as their attention shifted briefly to her. “I’ll step outside,” she offered.
Selene stood before she could move. “Take my seat, Mrs. Cartwright. My legs are tight from riding in the carriage. Standing would be a relief.”
Laina gave her friend a look of displeasure, muttering to herself, “Both of them should stand in the presence of their betters.”
Will moved closer and held the newly vacated chair for his mother, who radiated embarrassment as she sat, then he took the empty chair. Erisa looked at the girl who had given up her chair and said, “Thank you, Lady Selene. I don’t deserve such treatment.”
“She’s not a—” began Laina, but her father held up his hand and looked a warning at the girl. She closed her mouth, and Will thought he saw a look of mild relief on Selene’s face.
“Let’s get down to business, William,” announced Lord Nerrow. “After my last visit a couple of years ago, I wasn’t sure you would live, but since you did I feel I owe you a debt for saving my daughter’s life.” He gestured toward Laina, whose face soured slightly at the comment.
Will decided he didn’t care much for Laina. She gave every indication of being spoiled beyond redemption, as he would expect from someone born to her station. The older girl, Selene, he wasn’t sure about. She seemed gracious and was more mature. Since she wasn’t one of Lord Nerrow’s children, he wondered what her status was, but he couldn’t very well ask. He guessed she was a well-born playmate kept close by to keep Laina occupied.
If that’s the case, I feel sorry for her, thought Will. “You don’t need to thank me, my lord,” he said at last.
“That’s for me to decide, William,” countered the nobleman. “I will thank you, and I would also like to offer you an opportunity to better yourself.” Lord Nerrow leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers together before resting his chin on them. “Erisa tells me that you have studied herbalism with her, but that recently you’ve been taken under your uncle’s guidance to learn the making of carts.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw his mother glance nervously at him, probably worried he would spoil her lie. Will kept his attention on Lord Nerrow, though he was finding it difficult not to stare at the elemental hovering close to the man’s shoulder. “Yes, my lord.”
The Baron reached into a leather case and withdrew a folded sheet of parchment, which he then offered Will. “This is for you.”
Will unfolded it and scanned the page. It was covered in elegant, flowing letters that were so artfully written that it made it difficult for him to decipher, but he did the best he could. His reading skills weren’t good enough for some of the words, but he managed to get the gist of it quick enough.
As he struggled with the words, Lord Nerrow spoke again. “My apologies, I forgot you can’t read. It’s a letter of—”
Will nodded. “Wurthaven? You want me to study to be a wizard?”
“—introduction,” finished the nobleman, who then stopped and arched one brow before glancing at Erisa.
“Pardon, my lord,” said Will. “My uncle has been teaching me letters. I can’t read all of it, but I caught the meaning.”
Lord Nerrow smiled. “You impress me, young man, but then again, I suppose it’s to be expected.” He looked at Erisa once more, but she was keeping her eyes firmly on the table.
Will was thinking furiously, while trying to keep his face calm. While the offer would have been irresistible two years before, he was sure he didn’t want to go there now. His grandfather was cruel and capricious, and he had yet to teach Will even a single spell, but he had come to trust the old man. It went without saying that he didn’t want to leave his mother behind either. Though he saw her only rarely now, living in Cerria would mean he might not see her again until his training was over.
“I don’t think I can be a wizard,” said Will, looking for a decent excuse to refuse.
“Nonsense,” said Lord Nerrow. “Most people have the potential, it’s simply a matter of training and intelligence. You seem bright enough to me.”
Hah! thought Will. If only the old man could hear that. “My uncle says I could make a good living as a wainwright in Cerria,” offered Will weakly.
Laina snickered at that remark and Selene lifted her hand to cover a smile. Lord Nerrow glanced at the two girls then turned back to Will. “I’m sure they make a decent wage, but do you have any idea how much a wizard is paid?”
“No, sir,” Will admitted.
“A journeyman wizard gets sixty gold crowns a year, William,” Lord Nerrow informed him. “And that’s the lower end of what they make. If they’re talented or have good recommendations, they can make double that. It takes six years at Wurthaven to become a journeyman wizard. They only take twenty students a year, and I’m willing to cover your expenses during that time.”
Will gaped slightly in spite of himself. Sixty crowns was a fortune. He could hardly imagine such wealth. And grandfather calls them ‘sanitation workers?’
The nobleman smiled at his reaction. “Once you’ve been a journeyman for ten years, you can demand a trial to be raised to the rank of master wizard. You’re what, fifteen years old now? With hard work and some luck, you could be a master wizard by the time you’re thirty-one. A master commands ten times the money a journeyman can earn.”
“I don’t want to move to Cerria,” Will replied, his tone plaintive.
“I won’t take no for an answer, William,” said Lord Nerrow. “Your future is too important to me.”
Selene spoke up then. “We should make sure he has the basic potential before you push him into it.”
“There’s no doubt of that,” said the nobleman dismissively. “He’s m—” he stopped himself suddenly, then amended his statement. “Go ahead, Selene, examine him. It will be good practice for you.”
Will didn’t like the sound of that, but before he could protest, Selene raised her hands and said a word softly under her breath. A thin line of power flowed from the watery elemental beside her, meeting her hands and then forming a strange pattern in the air before her. The dark-haired girl peered through it as though it was a windowpane, her eyes fixed on him.
Maybe if she sees how small my turyn is, they’ll give up, thought Will hopefully.
Selene frowned, narrowing her eyes. “That’s odd.”
“What is it?” asked Lord Nerrow.
“Give me a moment,” said the older girl. Waving her hand, she dispelled the pattern and created another, studying Will even more intensely the second time. “I can’t see it,” she admitted after a moment.
“What do you mean, you can’t see it?” demanded Lord Nerrow. “It’s there, otherwise he’d be dead.”
“The source,” clarified Selene. “His turyn seems to be roughly what I’d expect, perfectly average, but I can’t see the source at all. Everything within him is cloudy.”
“Ridiculous,” said the nobleman. “Let me do it.” He performed a similar procedure and began st
udying Will as well, but after only a few seconds he stopped. “That is curious. It’s almost as though someone has warded him, but I don’t sense the presence of a spell.”
“I didn’t eat much this morning,” said Will, at a loss to find a good explanation.
Laina giggled at that. “Your diet has nothing to do with it.”
Will bristled at her remark. He knew from his early months observing the candle flame that being hungry could affect his turyn level, although only slightly, but he didn’t argue. The spoiled brat has probably never gone hungry in her entire life, he thought to himself.
“Pardon me, William,” said Lord Nerrow. “This is intrusive and may even cause you some discomfort.” Then, without waiting for a response, he lifted one hand and a line of green shot toward Will’s chest.
Will knew exactly what that was. Arrogan had done it to him many times already, and he despaired at the knowledge, but even as he flinched, the green line went through his chest and then slid away to one side.
The Baron grunted and tried again, but still failed to make the connection to Will’s turyn. After two more attempts, he glared at Will. “Are you doing that on purpose?”
“Doing what, my lord?” asked Will innocently. It was hard pretending he couldn’t see what the nobleman was doing. “Did something happen?” He had no idea why the man’s spell was failing where Arrogan’s had always worked, but he wasn’t about to ask questions.
Lord Nerrow sat back, momentarily nonplussed. He ran his hand through his hair and let out a long breath. “Never mind. I can see you have a healthy level of turyn in you, so I doubt there will be a problem. The masters at Wurthaven can sort out whatever peculiarities you possess.”
“I don’t really want to be a wizard,” said Will, “though I appreciate your kindness.” Laina frowned at him, and after a second, he realized his mistake, adding, “My lord.”
“You should leave him be, Father,” said Laina, her tone condescending. “Birds fly and pigs root around in the mud. He’ll be happier here.”
“Laina!” said Selene. “That’s enough!”
Lord Nerrow stood and stretched. “Fine, William. I’ll give you some time. Keep the letter of introduction. You can think about it and give me an answer next year. If you change your mind sooner, come find me in Cerria.”
Erisa stood and bowed deeply. “Thank you for understanding, Lord Nerrow.”
Belatedly, Will realized he should be doing the same and he hastily jumped up. Laina laughed at his rush and he found himself scowling at the girl. The touch of fingers on his cheek startled him, and he turned to see Selene had stepped up beside him as the other two made for the door.
“It left a scar,” murmured the young woman.
He understood her meaning then, for he often forgot about the mark on his cheek. “I don’t even think about it most days,” he told her.
Selene pulled her hand away, as though remembering her manners. “Thank you for helping her.” And then she left with the others.
Chapter 17
His grandfather was coming out of his ramshackle dwelling when Will got back, a large, glass jar in his hands. “Oh, you’re back.”
Will was faintly disappointed by his mentor’s bland greeting. “What’s in the jar?”
“Troll piss,” said the old man without even a twitch.
“What is it really?” said Will, repeating his question.
Arrogan lifted the small, wooden lid and held it out toward him. “Have a sniff if you don’t believe me.”
At five feet, Will already knew he wanted nothing to do with the foul odor emanating from the jar. “Oh, that’s awful! What’s it for?”
“I thought I’d use your absence as an opportunity to take care of some housekeeping chores. A little of this sprinkled around the edges of the garden should keep the deer away from my plants for at least a month,” explained his grandfather. “But since you’re back, I suppose I’ll just have you do it for me.”
Ugh, thought Will. “Aren’t you going to ask me what Lord Nerrow wanted?”
Arrogan lifted his chin. “I have absolutely no interest in that man’s doings, so long as he stays out of our business.” Placing the jar on the ground, he stepped up to Will. “Time to put the spell back on you.”
Will had been thinking about what had happened with Lord Nerrow at his mother’s house and had planned a deliberate bit of rebellion. “No.”
His grandfather’s brows shot up in surprise. “Oh, really?”
Will began backing away, and as he had expected, his teacher reacted by sending a green line of power out to seize his turyn. A second later he found himself paralyzed. Arrogan wasted no time reapplying the spell-cage around the source of Will’s turyn. Then he brought out the candle and redid its spell as well.
The old man studied him for a moment and then released him. “What was that about? You should know better by now.”
“I was testing you,” Will answered with a grin.
Arrogan’s mouth went wide. “You? Testing me?”
He nodded, then handed his letter of introduction to his grandfather. “Lord Nerrow offered to sponsor me.”
The old man scanned the page quickly then tossed the letter to the ground. “I should have expected something like this.”
“He also examined me to make sure I had the necessary potential.” After the words left his mouth, though, a second thought came to him. Why would he have expected that?
Arrogan snorted. “I bet that frustrated him. You’re far enough along now that I doubt he got much of a read on you.”
“He tried to seize my source, like you just did, but he couldn’t do it,” said Will, watching his grandfather’s reaction carefully.
The old man frowned. “That would have been bad, but he failed, eh? Hah! I knew the fool didn’t have it in him. The sorcerers these days are sloppy, even worse than those milksop mages they train at Wurthaven.” He eyed Will. “You look like you have some questions. Go ahead.”
“Why can you do it when he couldn’t?” asked Will immediately.
Arrogan nodded. “The training you’re undergoing has greatly increased your control over your turyn. Not only is it smaller, it’s vastly harder for another mage to seize control of it now. In general, that trick is something only done to apprentices or non-mages, because if the target has good control of his own turyn, it’s a waste of time. For it to work the one attempting it has to have much better discipline than the target.”
“So I’m done with it?” said Will hopefully.
“Not at all,” replied the old man. “I won’t be satisfied until you can do far better than that. At the rate we’re going, it will be another year or longer before I judge you ready for the next phase of training.”
Will groaned. “That last time you squeezed it down, I could barely move, any further and I’ll collapse!”
“And yet you’re walking and talking just fine now, aren’t you?” pointed out his mentor.
“That’s the part I don’t understand,” said Will. “Not only that, but they were able to see my overall turyn and they said it seemed relatively normal.” He pointed at the newly respelled candle with its tiny flame. “But that would indicate it’s anything but normal. How is that?”
His grandfather sighed. “I wasn’t going to explain this until later, but I suppose it won’t hurt to tell you now. I told you before that normal people use their turyn to walk, talk, move, you get the idea, but you’re at a point where you are no longer allowing yourself enough to do much of anything. If your turyn was like this when you started, you’d be flat on your back. You might even be unconscious.”
“Then how am I moving?” asked Will.
Arrogan grinned. “That’s the trick. You aren’t using your own turyn anymore. By gradually starving your body of what it needs, it has begun to take turyn from your environment and use that energy in its place.”
“Huh?”
“Here, look at this. It’s easier to show than to explain
.” His grandfather lifted his right hand and a few seconds later a small flame similar to the candle flame appeared. “Let’s pretend this is your native turyn, the energy you produce on your own. Watch.” The flame turned blue and shrank until it was much smaller, while faint streams of energy flowed in toward it, forming a second flame, orange in color, that enveloped the original one.
“You’re drawing in external turyn,” said Arrogan. “The blue is you; the orange is what you’re absorbing from your environment. The colors are just to show that they’re different. Ordinarily, you can’t use turyn that isn’t your own, but your body is adjusting—it’s learning to convert that external turyn.” As he spoke, the outer flame shifted, becoming blue like the tiny inner flame. “This is what you’re doing, the reason why you are able to function. It’s also why those idiots couldn’t see your source. It’s too small, and the outer flame conceals it.”
Will felt as though he was on a verge of a new understanding, but he still had questions. “So the reason he couldn’t take control of my turyn was because it was small?”
“Yes and no,” said his grandfather. “The actual size of isn’t as important as the fact that you’ve developed much stronger discipline and control over it. Even though that sorcerer doesn’t compress his own source doesn’t necessarily mean he wouldn’t be just as hard to control. Although, in my opinion, learning this technique is one of the best ways to develop true strength of will.”
“Then what’s the point of all this?” asked Will. “If my body replaces my turyn with external turyn and I wind up with roughly the same amount anyway, why go through the trouble?”
Arrogan showed his teeth in an almost feral grin. “Even in my day there were many who didn’t want to bother, which is why this type of training is unheard of now, but a lot of advantages accrue for masters of this technique.”
The Choice of Magic Page 13