by Guy Antibes
More history. Ricky felt some disappointment, but Saganet would be anything but disappointed with an opportunity to see how people thought in the past. He carefully flipped through the pages. The book consisted of descriptions of life five centuries ago. He found a new slip of paper marking a page. He turned to it and his eyebrows raised. The description was about sorcerers five hundred years ago.
He sat up straighter, despite his protesting ribs and found that sorcerers were a much larger part of life in Paranty than he ever realized. Performance sorcery was not the pinnacle of sorcerous talent. The use of magic was prodigious. Society esteemed sorcerers as healers, warriors, and artisans. Something happened to stop that. Could there have been a sorcerers’ revolt and then a counter-revolution?
Ricky found the publishing date to be five hundred-sixty years ago. Now he had a goal. He would trace the history of sorcery from that point in the past to the time the current dynasty rose to the throne of Paranty when sorcery no longer served the people. The notion that his parents were thoroughly into performance sorcery disappointed Ricky a bit, but then he had truly understood the challenge of performance sorcery when he worked with Loria Mansali.
A knock sounded on the door. Ricky slipped the book back into the bag as Master Pisan poked his head into his tiny infirmary room. Pisan put a finger to his lips.
“If you know what’s good for you, don’t implicate me in anything. Do you understand?”
A flash of hatred coursed through Ricky. “As long as you leave me alone. You were in league with Frank. I know it, and you know it. My only wish is to return to Tossa. If you keep me from doing that, I’m not without abilities,” Ricky said. “Remember, Frank is dead, not me.”
Pisan’s anger turned to fear for a moment. “I may not be the only one after you.”
“Lady Taranta is in Tossa. I am here. You can make your own decision about what to do,” Ricky said, emboldened a bit by Pisan’s warning.
Pisan closed the door without another word.
The Home was never without danger, and Ricky had fallen into complacency. He couldn’t let down his guard no matter where he went. He also didn’t want to put Kela in any danger, although Ricky felt that Henni could take care of himself. He took a deep, calming breath as the door opened without a knock.
“How are you feeling?” Siria Lonsi said. She now wore a lime green coat over her black garb. Ricky felt it still clashed with her red hair.
“My ribs hurt.”
“Ribs? No one told me about ribs.” She gave Ricky an evil grin. “I can fix those while you are awake. I want to see how you undo your shirt.”
Ricky had less trouble disrobing than he feared.
She gave him a genuine smile that time. “Good. Now show me where you are hurting. It will save me from poking you all over.”
Between the two of them, they identified six painful areas. Ricky felt the heat of the spell, but the pain he felt before never materialized.
“Now get up and twist. Gently, we don’t want to undo my work.”
Ricky located two more spots.
“Rest up today,” Siria said. “You can resume your schedule tomorrow. Instead of gardening, we will begin to plan our class in sorcery during the second-hour the rest of the week.”
~~~
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
~
R ICKY PULLED OUT THE KEY TO HIS ROOM and opened the door. Everything looked the same, but the room felt different. He changed his clothes and hid the book bag that he would take to the library after breakfast.
On his way to the library, Warden Sarini stopped Ricky and pulled him into her office.
“If your attackers hadn’t beaten you so severely, I would have had you in our special cell,” she said, loudly.
“For Frank’s death?”
She nodded, but put a finger to her lips. “I don’t care to know how much Frank threatened you, but I don’t want you to misbehave again.”
“It’s not as if I sought him out, Warden.”
“Consider yourself warned. Now go on about your business. I understand you’ll be meeting with Mistress Lonsi next hour.”
“I will be there, Warden.”
Ricky didn’t understand the conversation until he opened the door and just about walked into Antino Pacci.
“Excuse me, sir,” Ricky said.
The man snorted but stepped aside just enough to let Ricky pass. He looked back to see Pacci staring at him. Ricky turned and quickly descended the stairs to the basement.
“Where is that boy going?” Pacci said just before he shut the door.
Ricky didn’t hear an answer and hurried down to the library.
“I didn’t expect you for another week,” Henni said when Ricky showed up with the bag of books.
“The new sorcery teacher knows how to heal. Her work was a bit brutal, but it was effective. I have to take it easy for a bit, but the bones are healed. I have even better news. I don’t have to garden for a while.”
“The sorcery teacher is gobbling up your second hour?”
Ricky nodded. “Thanks for giving me the letter.”
“Don’t tell me anything,” Henni said, looking away and waving his hand.
“I don't intend to. Here are the books. I didn’t get much of a chance to read them, but I want to finish at least one of them.”
“The bit about a sorcerer’s life? You can thank Kela for putting a slip of paper on the spot. She puzzled her way through most of it and told me about it. Life was different then, wasn’t it?”
“I’m going to find out what happened between then and now. A bit of research,” Ricky said. “It’s my goal.”
“A good goal for a young sorcerer,” Henni said. “I’d give you a few days rest. You can finish up the books we gave you before you enter the other library again.”
“I can do that. I’m sure I have another week before my afternoons are taken.”
Ricky continued to read about life half a millennia ago. Not much had changed other than political boundaries and the role of sorcerers. A more educated person might know of other changes, but Ricky’s education was very spotty.
He took the other three books out and stacked them on a shelf close to Henni’s desk. His mind wandered back to the warden’s odd conversation. It seemed that she had been performing for Antino Pacci. That made more sense than anything.
Just looking at the man gave Ricky a bad feeling. He was sure Saganet’s letter didn’t help. He skimmed through the rest of the first book since he thought he had already read the key part of life as a sorcerer.
He heard the bell ring for the end of first-hour and walked over to Mattia’s classroom for his first formal encounter with Mistress Lonsi. Ricky stood outside the door. He heard voices inside. The conversation became a little heated, but still, Ricky couldn’t figure out the identity of the man who spoke, but one voice was a woman’s.
The door flew open, and Antino Pacci stalked out. He turned and shook his finger at Mistress Lonsi.
“I’ll be running this place soon enough. Remember that!”
Ricky jumped out of Pacci’s way. The man turned and glared at Ricky before he quickly left the building.
“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” Siria said.
“I heard voices, but didn’t make out the words, except for the last,” Ricky said. He didn’t want to be accused of eavesdropping. Pacci’s last sentence sent chills down his spine.
“Pacci is an impossible man. What he wants and what is possible are two entirely different things.” She shook her head with closed eyes as if to banish Pacci from her thoughts. “Come in. We have much to discuss.”
Ricky wasn’t prepared to add anything to Siria Lonsi’s plans.
“I don’t know what I’m doing here, Mistress Lonsi,” Ricky said.
“Siria. It is Siria. You can call me Mistress Lonsi or Teacher in front of the others.”
“Very well, Siria. I don’t understand how I can help you.”
She laughe
d. “Did you know I tested you?”
Ricky furrowed his brow and then looked at Siria with dawning understanding. “That’s why my healing hurt so much. Mirano Bespa said sorcerers hurt more if the powers weren’t aligned.”
“He told you that? That’s supposed to be a Duterian secret.”
“I don’t think he thought of it as a secret when he said it…more of an observation. You were purposely challenging my power?”
Siria nodded. “I needed to know. The pain was quite intense, but it would have hurt anyway. You are very powerful. You are related to the Valian performance sorcerers?”
Ricky nodded. “I found out I was last year.”
“That fact is not in your file. You really won the Tossa Novice Competition last summer?”
“You don’t believe my records?”
Siria sat on the desk and motioned for Ricky to sit in the front row. “I am skeptical of anything I read and rarely accept anything verbally unless it is an order. Even then…” she looked at the door that Antino Pacci had exited.
“You don’t believe Antino Pacci?”
“You know him?”
“I’ve run into the man a few times,” Ricky said. “I don’t want to run into him again.”
“Unavoidable. Pacci puts a lot of pressure on the staff, including Warden Sarini. He just put some pressure on me, and you will have to help me produce what he wants,” Siria said.
“Which is?”
“He wants five battle sorcerers trained to match the fighters trained in the other building’s basement.”
“But that’s not legal.”
Siria shrugged. “What is legal?” She met Ricky’s eyes again. “Do you have what it takes to be a battle sorcerer?”
“It’s illegal to be one unless conscripted by the King of Paranty, and then only for six months.”
“It’s not the six months that is the problem. It’s training boys who can barely carry a tone. We will spend the next few days getting you up to speed with five basic spells. Then you will help me find which of the other six can muster up enough power and will to make the spells work. I know you’ll be able to do it because I tested you already, and I know you can use your power. Franken Pestella’s death is proof.”
“He died of natural causes. Didn’t you say that?”
“For the benefit of others in the room. You stopped Franken Pestella’s heart with a spell. I don’t know how you did it, but I’m convinced you succeeded in saving your own life through magic.”
Ricky clamped his mouth shut and didn’t respond.
“What you’ll be learning in the next few days is taught at the Royal University in Sealio, so it is not forbidden knowledge. The use of it is, at present.”
“Have you been a battle sorcerer?”
“Five tours,” Siria said. “Two and a half years spread over seven. That’s how the King plays the game. We rotate in and out of the Royal Army to keep the letter of the law. I don’t expect the others to have what it takes. You keep that to yourself.”
“I will,” Ricky said. Mentally he qualified his statement. He’d keep the fact secret within the confines of the Home. He’d certainly tell Saganet. It even merited a letter.
“Let’s get started. The others might master the first two spells. The first is a fire spell, which is simple. The second is a fainting spell. That is less simple, but we can probably train all the boys to do that. You and the Torris girl will likely be the only ones who can do the other three. You will learn to kill at a distance with just your magic, tear down a mortared wall, and change the direction of a missile, either a thrown knife or an arrow. Any questions before we start?”
“Kela Torris. Why does she have to be included?”
“Soft on her? I know you were tutoring her in Parantian.”
“I didn’t teach her any magic.”
“But you know she has some power.”
Ricky nodded. “She knows how to produce a sorcerous light. We used them in the library.”
“In my experience, children of two magicians nearly always become sorcerers.”
Ricky couldn’t dispute Siria’s statement since he had to agree using Loria, Kela, and himself as examples.
“What do we do first?”
“The fire spell. Show me.”
“In here?”
Siria looked around. She removed a map from the wall. “Scorch the stone. The picture will hide what you’ve done.”
Ricky had practiced control of fire when he worked with Master Garini, preparing for the sorcery tournament. He set his will and quickly found the tone, a chanted sound that he shaped to form a thin spear of fire that splashed against the wall. He didn’t let it permit for more than a few seconds. The fire didn’t leave a mark since it was all the illusion spell of a performance sorcerer.
“Do I pass?”
“I want to see it again for real this time. Real flames, real heat.”
Ricky sang another spell, and this time it left a black scorch mark.
Siria’s eyebrows rose. “With flying colors. You projected an illusion and had exquisite control. How far can you project the real flame?”
Ricky shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried to have it shoot more than what I showed just now.”
“We can work on that. When you demonstrate to the other students, don’t make it so clean or so thin. We don’t want the others to be discouraged,” the sorceress said. “Now demonstrate how to make a person faint.”
“Fainting? I don’t know how to do such a thing. Where do I project my will?”
“You picture a slowing of blood to the brain. There are blood vessels that go up through your neck. Think of constricting them. If you constrict them to the count of ten, a person faints. If you count to thirty or more, the person may die. I want you to try it on me.”
Ricky shook his head. “You trust me that much?”
She lifted a corner of her mouth. “I don’t think you can do it. I’m not risking very much. If you count too long, I can always make you faint.”
He nodded but saw the flaw in her reasoning. Once she fainted, she had no control.
“Now?”
“Now.”
Ricky put his hand to his neck to feel where he could detect a pulse. He used a lower pitch than he had with Frank and concentrated on squeezing the blood vessels shut.
“Ready?” he said.
She put up her hand. “Let me sit first.” She walked around to the back of the desk and sat down.
At least she had some expectation that Ricky could do what she asked. Ricky resumed his concentration and found the tone he wanted after a half an hour of trial and error. He hummed and extended his hand, closing it as if he was choking her. He willed the vessels to constrict.
Siria’s eyes widened and then closed. Her head drooped to one side. Ricky stopped the spell, anxious to see how she’d recover.
About ten minutes later, her eyes blinked open and she gasped, clutching her throat. “You are a quick study. Where did you learn to find the song so well?”
“Song? I didn’t sing.”
“Whatever you use to resonate. Whatever you use to fill yourself with power is called the Song of Sorcery.”
“I learned that you hum, chant, and sing. Humming doesn’t provide the same power that chanting does, and singing provides the most resonance,” Ricky said.
She waved her hand. “All are part of the Song of Sorcery. That’s how the Duterians teach magic.”
“Why did you return to Paranty after spending time in Duteria?” Ricky asked.
“The Duterians only tolerate Parantian sorcerers for so long. Few have stayed more than a year. My friend Mirano Bespa is a rare exception. They take us in for a time to show us how advanced Duterian sorcery is.” She nodded her head. “It is very advanced.”
“Isn’t the king afraid of sorcerers? Wouldn’t he be more afraid of the Duterians?”
“The Royal Army would attempt to kill any enemy battle sorcerers before a
battle began. But Duteria is only one small city-state out of twelve in Hesselia. Paranty has nothing to fear from their sorcerers unless Duteria took over Hesselia. I’ll tell you, the sorcerers have no interest in doing such a thing. They are all focused on perfecting sorcery, not accumulating political power.”
Ricky had no way of disproving Siria’s comments. “Do you want to continue?”
“We don’t have to test you any further for killing at a distance. What spell did you use?”
“I didn’t kill anyone,” Ricky said.
Siria’s face lit up. “You are a smart one. Of course, you didn’t kill anyone. How could you do such a thing, if forced?”
“You’ve already taught me to hold on to the fainting spell. That is one way. The others are possible variations. Squeeze a heart, freeze a heart, or squeeze lungs shut are all ways that could bring a person or even an animal down.”
“Consider your schooling advanced,” Siria said. “Do you want to try to reduce mortar?”
“And bring the main building down around us?”
She stood up and walked to a bare wall. “Try to remove this brick.”
Ricky examined the joint and thought about the mortar. He scratched at the mortar with his fingernail and looked at the few granules on his finger. “I don’t know if I can get the pitch right,” he said before running up and downscales. He tried a high scale trying to get the mortar to vibrate.
He found a possible note and held it. He produced a bit of resonance, but not enough to do much more than he had when he loosened the mortar for the door to the hidden library.
“I can’t do it right now.”
Siria peered at Ricky. “Why not now?”
“It’s all matter of matching resonance with will. I couldn’t find a proper resonance.” He walked to the wall and ran his finger along the mortar. “Just a few grains were dislodged. Maybe someone else could do it with that resonance, as I understand how this works, but not me, not now.” He returned to his seat.
“Your voice will change shortly and you might find a suitable tone then,” Siria said. “I can fell a tree, but I’ve never been particularly good at removing mortar. Maybe we can find a boy who can.”