Bluestone

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Bluestone Page 7

by C E Johnson


  “I don’t understand,” a young freckled red-headed female green magician whispered from the second row. Her aura had tendrils of kindness, balance, stability and safety. “How would a slow-moving creature kill a magician?”

  Samil went to stand next to her, his head beginning to pound from their numerous questions. “Not many succeed, but for those that do, they become something unique. If a Mavet raa kills a magician with a green aura, a dryad will result.” He moved from her to stare down at the petulant young black magician in the front row. “Killing a black magician will form a vampire.” Samil hoped his example would allow him to see fear in the boy’s eyes, but the boy appeared amused and a wide grin formed on his face. He pulled back his upper lip to expose his canines and he stood, showing his face to the class.

  Samil ignored him and kept moving until he stood next to a young boy with a walnut brown aura. “If a Mavet raa kills a magician with a brown aura, a were-creature will be created.” Samil felt some inner satisfaction as fear registered plain and simple on the brown magician’s youthful face. “Now all of you, recite the cardinal rule about Mavet raa for me.”

  All the children spoke together in a chant, “Never create a Mavet raa in a small closed-in space or they might kill their creator. Small equals death to all.”

  “Excellent,” Samil said in a loud voice. “Never forget that rule.”

  “What do the wraiths look like?” the young black magician asked. Under his breath, Samil heard the young boy say in a hushed voice, “I’m sure I’ll be powerful one day and I’ll control them like you.”

  “Perhaps you will,” Samil whispered back to the student, “or perhaps you will become a half-dead yourself.” He awarded the boy his favorite grin which he was sure appeared hideous, filled with yellowed teeth. Samil turned to speak to the whole class. “Wraith-spirits are somewhat like ghosts. They’re attracted to life, and they rapidly flock to the essence of any living magician’s spirit that travels to their world, like moths to a flame. They sample our life-force, and at times it can be quite painful for us.”

  “How sad,” Brytam said quietly. “I don’t like the sound of them or their world at all.”

  “Sad, but useful,” Samil corrected her. He rubbed his balding head. “Wraiths can teach us secrets from the past. I’ve found going to their world is well worth the sacrifice.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Lessons

  Emily finished her breakfast the morning after her match, still in pain but much improved relative to her condition the previous day. Her father was in the living room watching the weather channel. “Em, check this out.” He gestured toward the television where a news report detailed an erupting Ethiopian volcano which had been dormant for six decades. Two people were missing, and hundreds were fleeing from the disaster. “Such a jumble of events … something’s really changing the plate tectonic activity.”

  “Can’t you just say the Earth’s unstable?” Emily teasingly rolled her eyes at her father.

  “Keep an eye on nature,” he advised. “I think something big is going to happen.” He switched the channel to another news station which was talking about another active volcano.

  “Dad, you’re freaking me out,” Emily snorted.

  “I’m just astonished by all these disasters occurring in such a rapid sequence, something I haven’t seen in my lifetime.” Richard appeared glued to the set. A public service message came on the television with President Hughes describing his reactivation of the Stargate Project, and promising high-level salaries for experts in the field of neurology. He was encouraging more students with potential psychic abilities to apply to his program.

  Emily studied the President’s face as he detailed his initiative. “What do you think of the Stargate Project?” she asked her father.

  “The project’s fascinating,” Richard answered. He turned off the television. He became silent for a moment, eyes lost in thought. “U.S. intelligence agencies in the past studied psychic individuals for special missions with the military.” He appeared to be choosing his words carefully. “Although the experiments did find paranormal abilities, they stopped the research because they didn’t know what to do with the results.” Emily’s parents always seemed to be walking on eggshells whenever they discussed metaphysical events or anything remotely magical.

  “Why did the President start it up again?” Emily asked, although she felt uncomfortable talking about unearthly topics with her father. He clearly wasn’t in his element with the subject.

  “The President adopted a baby named Malachi about the time you were born,” Richard answered as he exchanged a glance with Emily. “Rumors suggest Malachi has demonstrated psychic abilities, and many believe President Hughes restarted the program in the hopes of finding gifted students who can work with his son.” Richard fidgeted in his seat, appearing to hesitate before he asked his next question, “Do you want to apply?”

  “Are you kidding me?” Emily blurted. She fully understood why Dr. D thought she should keep her powers hidden. “I want to stay as far away from that program as possible.” Her throat felt suddenly dry.

  “Smart choice in my opinion,” her father said gently. “I was just curious how you felt.” He stood and started toward the garage. “I’m heading to work. Don’t forget you have tutoring today. Your godfather will be here any minute.”

  As Emily grew, the Whaynes were more and more grateful that Dr. Dalton was in their lives. Under his guidance, Emily underwent a host of annual medical tests scanning for any remnant of her initial illness. The doctors, however, found no residual abnormalities and were simply impressed by her dexterity and her mental aptitude. He became a steadfast advisor, and his wealth and connections were instrumental in guiding her extracurricular training. He didn’t feel money should be a hindrance to Emily’s improving herself. He enrolled her in horseback riding, martial arts, fencing, and swimming. Her parents’ concerns about different aspects of these new sports were quickly put to rest by Dr. Dalton as he persuasively focused on their underlying benefits. He also became Emily’s private tutor.

  Once he arrived, Emily jogged from her home to Dr. D’s luxury sports utility vehicle with Xena loping next to her. Shotgun, Xena teased, claiming the front seat.

  As Emily opened the front door for her bondsmate, she laughed to her godfather, “I’m beginning to think I’m a third wheel here.”

  “Your Doberman is often my companion when you’re in school,” Dr. D said with a smile as he saw who was getting in the front seat. He gave Emily a wink as he rested his hand on Xena’s head. “I’m very impressed by her.” Dax was on his shoulder and the small otter stretched out his strong, muscular neck to sniff noses with Xena. “Dax is also impressed by your bondsmate.”

  I do like Dax, Xena thought, a true pack-mate.

  “I’m surprised Dax left his pools to come see us.” Emily reached out her hand to rub his soft fur. Dax cherished sliding through his personal water park at Dr. D’s extensive home, where there was a maze of rivers on several acres, all stocked with his favorite types of fish.

  “Somehow he decided to hang out with me today.” Dr. D chuckled warmly as he glanced at his bondsmate.

  “I didn’t think you were going to come to my match.” Emily was curious why her godfather showed up.

  “I wanted to see if you were ready,” Dr. D said slowly. He gave Emily a long look. “Changes are going to come around very soon.”

  Another clue, Xena whispered. We must try and figure out more of his mysteries today. Xena and Emily enjoyed attempting to sort through the past of secretive Dr. D.

  I always try, Emily retorted, but he closes off so quickly when I ask something that bothers him.

  Dr. D turned to look at her in the backseat with a wrinkled brow. His frown deepened when he noticed one of the largest bruises on her leg, one that was especially sore. He murmured a healing spell, Medicor. With his blue aura shimmering during his incantation, he directed blue magus from his finger toward Emily�
��s bruise which began to fade along with a portion of her aching pain.

  “Why do you waste your energy on me?” Emily listened to him sigh with the exertion. She knew how much strength the spell was taking from him and she was frustrated by his generosity and concern. “I’ll heal just fine.”

  “I don’t like to see my goddaughter hurt,” he answered softly. “Our healing spells are complex, and I never know exactly how much of an injury each spell will repair or how much energy it will require.” Emily was toying with the same spell on her own, but she wasn’t very good with it yet. She peered intently at his aura before it faded from her vision. She could read goodness and integrity within him, but there was something else deeper within his aura.

  There’s always something else, Xena whispered.

  Dr. D’s eyes bored into hers through the car mirror. She knew he could tell she was reading him. “Tell me more about auras?” he requested. He was beginning their day by testing her knowledge, as usual.

  “Magicians have an aura that is the color of their primary energy, and it can only be seen by another magician and it can only be viewed in person, not over a TV or video screen,” Emily began. “Magicians are rarely able to see their own aura, but one instance when they can see colors is when their own magic is in action with a spell.”

  Dr. D nodded with pride at her answer. “When can you see an aura?” He often peppered her with questions.

  Emily pushed strands of her hair away from her eyes. “An aura will flare into our vision for several seconds when we first see a magician and it will tell us information about them. To bring an aura back into our visual field, we must concentrate and spend our energy.”

  “Correct.” Dr. D stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Objects of magic, enchanted weapons, and magestones will also have faint auras that can flash into our minds momentarily when we first see them, but only powerful magicians can even see these faint auras.”

  “The strongest magicians can be like magical treasure hunters,” Emily said in a hushed voice.

  Dr. D nodded. She could tell he liked that thought. He abruptly turned up the radio. It was updating listeners on Tropical Storm Isaac, and Emily became distracted by the weather. “Do you watch the weather channel?” she asked.

  Dr. D hesitated a moment before answering in a low voice, “Although I love nature, I grew up without a television and I’ve never learned to enjoy watching many of the shows on the channels.” His voice sounded dreamy.

  We must figure out where he was reared, Xena whispered excitedly, ask him something else while he’s distracted. Xena loved the puzzles within Dr. D.

  He’ll become silent if I ask directly, Emily retorted. She studied the trees outside her window, thinking over how to word her question. “My father’s fascinated by watching anything on the news that has to do with natural disasters … were there disasters where you were raised?”

  Dr. D’s eyes became lost in thought. “My parents taught me that every natural disaster that occurs is somehow linked to dragons.” Dr. D spoke in an even more hushed voice, and Emily had to lean forward to hear him. “They said that when disasters occur, the dragons were probably anxious.”

  His words were so far-fetched and unimaginable that Emily waited expectantly for him to laugh and explain his joke, but there was no laugh coming.

  Dragons? Xena whispered in bewilderment. This is the first time he’s ever spoken about dragons.

  “Have you ever wondered if there are forces more powerful than simply the shifting of plates in the Earth?” Dr. D glanced back at her. “After all, you’re able to do things with your mind that cannot be explained by physics.”

  “You and my dad …,” Emily moaned in pretend distress. She peered into Dr. D’s face through the mirror and wondered how many secrets were concealed in his mind. Before she could ask him more about the outlandish matter of dragons; however, they arrived at Seton Hospital and he switched topics.

  “You had quite a crowd at your match,” he said before turning off the car and opening his door.

  Emily got out of the vehicle at the same time as Dr. D. She let Xena out of the front. “About my match … there were three men in the stands that disturbed my ki,” she started quietly. “I got the impression they were watching me.” She rubbed Xena, seeking reassurance through their link. “I thought one of them might have had a gun.”

  Dr. D paled. “After our lesson, I want you to give me a mental picture of each individual.” Something flickered deadly in his eyes, but instead of being scared, Emily felt warmed by the fire. “I’ll watch for them and find out who they are,” he promised while reaching out a reassuring hand and placing it on her arm. Emily felt a faint tremble in his touch and she wondered if it was fear or anger.

  By the look in his eyes, I think it’s likely anger, Xena growled happily.

  They walked through a series of passageways that linked the main hospital and the offices where practitioners worked. Dr. D had a luxurious office near the emergency room. Entering the room, Emily sunk into her beloved overstuffed chenille chair. Xena circled several times at her feet before laying down.

  “Why does she circle? I can’t understand her attempts at explanations through our mind-link.” Emily felt confused by her bondsmate sometimes, but she was always comforted by Xena’s unwavering close presence.

  Dr. D sat behind his desk with Dax on his shoulder. “Modern dogs are ninety-nine percent identical to the wild wolf in terms of genetics,” he taught. “When pack animals lie down to rest, instinct tells them to form a tight circle to take advantage of the body heat from adjacent animals to establish their territory with respect to their group and to make sure there are no obstacles in their bed.”

  “Instinct,” Emily said in a hushed voice.

  Dr. D’s piercing eyes focused on her. “The majority of a magician’s power is genetic. Instinct.”

  “What do you mean?” Emily asked curiously. She was happy their lesson was starting with the topic of magic. She studied the side-wall where her godfather’s bluestone sat. She wondered if she was starting to see a faint aura around the stone. Her eyes flitted to his plaques, diplomas, and countless pictures with children he had helped. Absent were any family pictures, except for Emily and her parents.

  “I can teach you about spells and words to say, but a large portion of magic is pure instinct. Some magicians are just more powerful than others.” Dr. D rubbed his hand over the surface of his desk, deep in thought. The smooth hardwood surface was polished to a gleaming shine, and the handles were of a dark iron that glimmered in the sunlight lighting up his room with a warm, pleasing glow. A cool breeze was drifting through the windows, which were wide open, and Emily enjoyed the faint touch on her cheek, feeling like a gentle caress. The front of his desk, facing Emily, was embellished with the carvings of warhorses and knights. Dr. D opened a drawer and pulled out a keyboard. “Today we will learn about animals from the ice-age.” He began typing on the device. He turned the computer screen to Emily, so she could see a picture of a muscle-bound tiger with long, deadly canine teeth. “Saber tooths, mammoths and mastodons.”

  As he taught, Emily focused a portion of her mind on his words, while also studying his room. The walls were lined with scores of books on shelves of a solid dark wood. Medical books dominated the area, but there were also volumes on the art of war, computers and even gemstones. Emily turned her attention back to the carving on his desk-front. There was one particular stallion that always caught her fancy. Nostrils flared and hooves thundering, the steed was bravely charging into war with an eager rider. The two appeared ready to leap from their wooden confines and into Emily’s lap.

  “Pay attention, Em,” Dr. D gently redirected her thoughts. Continuing their lesson, he taught her about the obvious and intricate differences between mastodons and mammoths. Finishing this topic, he became immersed in details of how he would battle these creatures.

  I get the feeling he’s fought something like these creatures before
, Xena whispered, sounding more and more confused as she attempted to solve Dr. D’s riddles.

  Emily scoffed at the idea, but she started to pay more attention. Although she hated to imagine an animal getting hurt, she was interested in the sword maneuvers he was describing and the strategy involved against such powerful forces of nature. Dr. D’s eyes became lost in reverie as he described how to combat a streak of Saber tooths with only a shield and a blade of steel. After he finished his lecture he swirled the ice in a glass before him. “What do you think of all my talk about fighting?”

  “For some reason, the conflict makes me think about Delores.” Emily traced the outline of the carved horse before her.

  Pausing his lesson, Dr. D steepled his hands together. “You’re going to face bullies like Delores throughout your life and eventually these bullies will become stronger and more powerful. You need to face these challenges head-on.”

  Dr. D murmured several words and gestured toward the shelf in the corner of the room with his blue aura flaring momentarily. The bluestone cube rose and glided to him through the air.

  Magestones are impressive, Xena whispered.

  “Tell me more about magicians,” Emily requested in a soft voice. She wanted to hear more about magic.

  The bluestone settled into Dr. D’s palm, and Emily felt a chill of excitement run down her spine as he began to instruct her on the physics of magic. Her mind was fully focused now, and she hung on to his every word.

  After a time, she interrupted him with a question, “Is it unusual that we’re both blue magicians?”

  “No, not unusual at all.” She thought she saw a hint of amusement in his eyes at her question. “Blue is a fairly common aura color of magicians.” Dax crawled from Dr. D’s pocket and sat on the desktop.

 

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