Scholar of Magic

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Scholar of Magic Page 5

by Michael G. Manning


  The professor glanced over the room, then pointed at Will. “Mister Cartwright, there you are. Master Courtney asked me to tell you to report to the Healing and Psyche building immediately. Doctor Morris is waiting on you there.”

  All eyes were on Will as he grimaced, then replied, “Should I go after class?”

  “Now, Mister Cartwright. Master Courtney seemed to feel it was urgent.”

  Will stood, glancing down at Janice as he did. Her eyes were full of questions, and chief among them was an emphatic ‘what did you do?’ Unfortunately, he had no better idea than she did. He shrugged and made his way down the row of seats until he reached the aisle so he could exit.

  Since his class was located in the Engineering building, it took him a few minutes to reach the Healing and Psyche building, which was located near the center of the campus along with three other major buildings that surrounded what was known as the ‘quad.’ As soon as he entered, he found Ilona Fretz, one of the Healing Department’s administrative people, waiting on him. He knew the woman fairly well since she had been the person in charge of buying the potions he had created to pay his bills during the previous semester.

  “How do you feel?” she asked immediately.

  He gave her a strange look. “I have a headache. What’s going on?”

  “I heard about what happened at the dam yesterday,” she replied. “We’ve been dealing with the consequences. Follow me. Master Courtney was very insistent that you should be thoroughly examined. Doctor Morris is naturally quite interested as well.”

  “Interested in what?”

  Ilona didn’t answer, and he was forced to hurry to keep up with her as she marched down the halls to an examining room. She opened the door and ushered him inside. “Take a seat by the table. The doctor will be here as soon as I inform him you’ve arrived.” With that she stepped out.

  A few minutes later the door opened again and a small, balding man with white hair and a round belly entered. There was something distinctly jovial about the man, which was reaffirmed by the smile on his face as he regarded Will. “If it isn’t our aspiring duelist. I had a feeling I’d be seeing you again. You don’t live a boring life, do you?”

  Confused, Will frowned. “Pardon me?”

  The doctor chuckled. “Don’t remember me? I guess that’s to be expected. You’d lost a lot of blood last time we met—after your duel. I was the one who sewed you up.”

  Will brightened. “Oh! My memory is a little fuzzy about that period. I suppose I owe you my thanks.”

  Doctor Morris grinned. “I’m just grateful you seem to be in a better mood this time. What was it you said to me when you woke up?” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Oh, yes! You asked which vein was damaged and when I failed to answer immediately you said, ‘This fellow is a fucking idiot.’”

  Will winced. Now he remembered their meeting. “I’m really sorry about that. I wasn’t entirely in my right mind at the time.”

  The doctor waved one hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. We hear all sorts of things from people when they wake up after trauma. We were laughing about it the rest of the week.” The old man’s eyes were moving up and down, and he leaned closer, staring at the side of Will’s head. “Did this happen at the dam yesterday?” Reaching up with one hand, he probed the lump on Will’s scalp, causing him to gasp.

  “No, sir,” he answered. “I got that last night.”

  “How?”

  “I fell,” Will prevaricated.

  “Really?” responded Doctor Morris, disbelief in his voice. “It would be very unusual to get a knock on your noggin like this from a fall. It’s rare that people fall sideways. This looks more like someone rapped you with something small and hard. You aren’t still getting into fights, are you?”

  “Only when I can’t avoid them,” said Will sourly.

  “Ilona said you had a headache. Did you have that before you had your accident?”

  “No, sir—well, not exactly. My headache now is from the injury, but I’m also getting short-term pains if I try to use spells. I think I injured my will while keeping the dam from rupturing yesterday.” Doctor Morris stared at him blankly, causing Will to hurry and add, “But I’m sure it will be better in a few days.”

  The doctor nodded. “Yes, I see. You know a lot about injuries to the will, do you?”

  He felt his cheeks coloring. “Well, it has happened to me once before.”

  “Does it seem like something that should be commonplace among wizards?”

  Will didn’t answer immediately, as he could see the doctor was leading him with his questions. Given the current state of wizardry, it probably was unlikely that anyone managed to injure themselves as he had. “Perhaps not,” he said hesitantly. But it would be if people were being properly trained to use magic. “How many have you encountered?”

  “Yours is the first,” said Doctor Morris dryly. “Such injuries are discussed in some of the old literature, but I’ve never had the opportunity to see one firsthand. If you’ll make yourself comfortable I’d like to perform a few diagnostic spells.”

  He lifted one hand to his temple, feeling slightly anxious. “You don’t expect me to use any spells myself, do you?”

  The doctor shook his head. “No. As I said, I don’t have any personal experience with this, but the texts I’ve studied advise against you using magic yourself.”

  “What will these spells reveal?”

  “I won’t know until I try. According to what I’ve read they won’t show any physical injuries, but I’d like to confirm that for myself. May I proceed?”

  Will nodded and then waited patiently while the doctor went through a variety of spells, most of which seemed to be passive in nature, although one or two of them did actively probe his body with streams of turyn. After fifteen minutes the physician seemed to have finished. “I’ll be back shortly,” he told Will before stepping out and closing the door.

  Rising from his seat, Will went to the door and listened. He could almost make out the doctor’s voice as the man conferred with someone else. Reflexively, he started to adjust the sensitivity of his hearing, but he stopped as a sharp pain stabbed through his skull. Idiot, he told himself. You knew wild magic would do the same thing to you as any spell. Rubbing his temples gingerly, he returned to his seat.

  Unable to sate his curiosity he waited impatiently. A few minutes later the voices drew closer and he recognized Master Courtney’s voice. “Have you mentioned Duncan to him?”

  “Not yet,” said Doctor Morris.

  The door opened, and the two men stepped inside. Will started to rise, but Professor Courtney waved for him to keep his seat. “No need to get up.”

  Will relaxed. Master Courtney was a classic academic, but as the Head of Research, he held a uniquely influential position with the people who ran Wurthaven. He had an imposing presence despite his below-average height and unremarkable build. It was something about the man’s intense hazel eyes. He could never figure out what the man was thinking, but it was obvious that a lot was going on behind those eyes.

  Master Courtney glanced at the doctor. “Would you like to give him the good news, or shall I?”

  Doctor Morris dipped his head deferentially. “Please, go ahead.”

  Master Courtney’s sharp gaze fixed on Will. “You’re perfectly healthy. It doesn’t appear that you’ve suffered any long-lasting effects from what you did at the dam yesterday. Aside from this injury to your will, of course. Has the good doctor given you any instructions regarding that yet?”

  The doctor started to explain that he hadn’t yet, but Will spoke first, “No magic for a few days, then I test my abilities with caution. If there’s any pain I should wait another two weeks before trying again.”

  Doctor Morris stared at him. “You already knew?”

  Master Courtney glanced between the two of them, then turned to Will, his gaze questioning. “You learned that from your former teacher?”

  Will nodded.
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  Master Courtney said nothing for a few seconds. “You’re going to have to tell me more about this former master of yours one of these days. He must have been an interesting man.”

  He ignored the statement and looked at the doctor instead. “I couldn’t help but hear you mention Instructor Broder outside the door. Is he all right?”

  The two older men looked at one another, then Doctor Morris answered, “I’m afraid Duncan won’t be teaching the practicum any longer. The strain of what happened yesterday has forced him into early retirement.”

  Will felt the blood draining from his face. “How bad is it?”

  The doctor grimaced. “It’s impossible to say for sure, but I doubt he’ll last more than a few years. The amount of turyn he used—”

  Master Courtney interrupted, “Which makes your condition all the more remarkable. What was the size of the force-wall you created?”

  The man’s lack of regard for what had happened to Duncan irritated Will, but he could see that the researcher was caught up by his interest in the topic. “It was roughly ten feet by twenty feet, sir.”

  “And how far away was it from you?”

  “About thirty feet above where we stood.”

  “And you held it for how long?”

  Will shrugged. “I’m not sure. I think it was ten minutes or so, but I can’t say for sure.”

  “That’s ridiculous!” exclaimed Doctor Morris, unable to contain his disbelief. “He’d be dead—twice over.”

  “Three times over,” said Courtney dryly. “I’ll have to examine the site, though it will be impossible to make more than a rough estimate given what we know.”

  “You believe him?” asked the doctor.

  Master Courtney nodded. “His story matches what Duncan told me almost exactly, and given the fact that the Lanover Dam is still standing I’m inclined to believe the boy.” After a moment he added, “I have other reasons to believe him as well.”

  Being discussed in the third person was annoying, not to mention Doctor Morris’ outright skepticism about his claims, but Will tried to keep his feelings hidden. “Can I return to class?” he asked the two men, keeping his tone neutral.

  Master Courtney smiled. “Actually, no. I’d like you to accompany me to the dam so I can inspect it. You can show me what happened.”

  Will groaned inwardly.

  Chapter 5

  The carriage ride to the Lanover Dam site was relatively quiet for the first half hour. Will had worried that Master Courtney would question him the entire way, but the graying professor remained silent, staring out the window and watching the world go by with a faint smile.

  He stares at the world as though it’s constantly telling him jokes that only he can hear, observed Will. What a strange man. He wondered what his grandfather would have thought of the man. Don’t forget he’s a noble too, he reminded himself. Outside of academic settings the professor was also a lord of the realm, though more so than even the other teachers at Wurthaven, Alfred Courtney seemed to care very little for his social standing.

  “What was your teacher’s name?”

  The question emerged from absolute silence, startling him. “Pardon?”

  Alfred’s piercing eyes settled directly on Will. “I asked what your teacher’s name was.”

  His brain leapt into high speed, racing in circles as he struggled to come up with a convincing lie. “Uh. I usually called him Grampa, but his given name was, uh, Johnathan.”

  “Isn’t that your maternal uncle’s name? Was he named after his father?”

  The question was delivered in an innocent tone, but it was enough for Will to realize he had made a terrible mistake. Master Courtney had apparently researched his family at some point in the past. “Yes, sir,” said Will weakly.

  “If you don’t wish to tell me your teacher’s name then don’t. I’m not an officer of the law or an agent of the king. I can’t compel you to give me answers, but please be truthful. I’d rather you simply refuse honestly than force me to guess at the truth.”

  His mouth went dry, and for a moment Will wasn’t sure how to respond. Alfred Courtney seemed entirely different than his grandfather, and yet for some reason the man frightened him just as much. He’s not going to chase me around with a staff, he reminded himself, but somehow his body didn’t believe it. “Yes, sir,” he said at last.

  “And? Is there something else you’d like to add?”

  “His name wasn’t Johnathan. I promised I wouldn’t give people his real name.”

  Master Courtney smiled. “Much better. I prefer to build on a foundation of honesty. Is your grandfather actually dead? It seems strange you’d be concerned about such a promise if he’s deceased. The law can’t reach him if he’s already passed on.”

  A spark of anger kindled in his chest. “He’s dead, sir. He died defending my mother and cousin when the Prophet’s men came to our home.”

  The older man stared at him, waiting.

  “My promise wasn’t conditional on his being alive or dead,” Will explained.

  The old scholar looked out the window again, seemingly satisfied. “Interesting,” he remarked. “So, this promise was probably as much for your protection as for his own. Your grandfather must have been a notorious criminal.”

  “He was a good man,” said Will stubbornly.

  “Being labeled a criminal says nothing about his character. While I would generally assume that most criminals possess lower moral standards, that isn’t always the case.” The old man watched the trees pass by for a minute or two. “Were you always a natural transducer, or do you think your grandfather’s training somehow enabled you to become one?”

  Will was pretty sure it was the training, but he wasn’t ready to share his grandfather’s secrets. “I’m not sure,” he answered noncommittally.

  “You told Professor Dulaney that you spent several years just training with the candle and source-link before you were ever allowed to learn how to construct a spell. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Was there anything specific you had to do during that period of time? Or perhaps things that were done to you?”

  Will gave the man a flat stare. “I’d rather not say.”

  The older man laughed. “You don’t trust me, do you?”

  “There are some things I don’t trust anyone with, sir. It isn’t personal.”

  “Yet you’ve come to Wurthaven to learn what we have to teach. Doesn’t it seem a little one sided? We give you everything we know while you keep your secrets to yourself.”

  Will thought about it for a moment before answering. “A school’s job is to teach. The students pay to learn what you have to offer. There’s no implicit agreement that students will provide anything to Wurthaven other than their money.”

  Master Courtney nodded vaguely. “That may be generally true, but Wurthaven is more than a simple school. My position is Head of Research, so surely you can understand that it’s my job to try and increase our knowledge and understanding. At the moment you appear to be a fascinating source of information.”

  “I can understand your perspective, but I have no obligation to satisfy your curiosity.”

  Alfred raised one brow. “Even though the king sponsored your entry into Wurthaven?”

  Will kept his expression flat. “More so because of it.”

  “You mean you owe nothing to the college because of your father-in-law, or…” The older man paused for a few seconds, then his eyes lit up with understanding. “You’re hiding your secrets from the king himself.”

  Will said nothing, keeping his eyes focused on the scenery outside the window.

  They arrived at the worksite a short while later. They were met by Professor Jason Dugas, the head of Wurthaven’s Engineering Department. The senior engineer had come to the site to oversee repairs in Duncan’s place. Professor Dugas greeted Master Courtney with a smile and a deferential dip of his head. “I’m honored that you’ve come to see things p
ersonally, Master Courtney.”

  Will studied the engineer for a moment. Like Duncan, the man was in relatively good shape. He was tall and lean with dark hair and thick stubble covering his cheeks. Dugas and Courtney stepped away and Will followed behind them, listening as they spoke together.

  “I haven’t sent my report in yet, but as I’m sure you guessed, the dam failure yesterday was definitely the result of sabotage. The buttress on the left side wasn’t actually able to hold any load at all. Someone dug down beneath it and exposed the metal before changing its properties. As soon it came under full load, it failed.”

  Master Courtney nodded absently, seemingly uninterested in the shocking news as his eyes roamed over the ground around them. He stopped suddenly, pointing. “Is that where you were standing, Mister Cartwright?”

  Will nodded. “Yes, sir.” He was surprised that the man had guessed it so accurately, until he noticed the discoloration around where he had stood. A five-foot circle held no plants at all; the grass and weeds that had been there were shriveled and black. Beyond that, the grass was brown and withered in a radius of about ten feet more. Did I cause that?

  “Stephanie Beresford was here with him,” Professor Dugas informed Master Courtney. “The lady has a fire elemental.”

  Apparently, that was supposed to explain the dead plants, though Will knew that the elemental had never manifested. Glancing at Master Courtney he couldn’t tell whether the old man believed the explanation or not. The head researcher merely replied, “Of course.” Then he looked up at the dam wall, his eyes gauging the distance. “Can you get me some measurements Professor Dugas?”

  “I can give you whatever you need, Master Courtney. We have full schematics for the dam as well as topographical maps and surveys of—”

  “Nothing that dramatic, Jason. I’d just like measurements of the distance from this spot to the dam, as well as the distance up the wall to where the breach began. If you could get those and draw up a simple diagram I would appreciate it.”

 

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