by McCoy, RS
“Away from the grounds.”
“For how long?” Avis just shrugged and smiled, clearly pleased with himself. “I need to talk to someone about switching Rhada from Tracker to–” What? Is there a name for Sparks that deal with animals like hers?
“Handler.” Avis offered. Oh, for once you’re being helpful.
“She’s not a Tracker. She should be a Handler then. What about the Headmaster? Where are his quarters?”
“Oh, Mathias doesn’t like to be bothered with the mediocrity of running the school. He much prefers keeping an eye on his favorite students.”
“Mathias is the Headmaster?” Could that possibly be true? The same Mathias that mentors Khea?
“The very one.” No wonder she was so reluctant to disobey him. I wasn’t sure what to do with the new information.
Avis was nearly laughing outright by the end of the conversation. He planned to tell me this today. But why? And now what would happen to Rhada? Would she be unable to move on because she came back early? Would she start over at Round Three with a new rate, or would she have to start all the way back from Round One?
“I’ll take care of it. Right now, you need to eat.” Oh no, not the dining hall again.
“If you hate it so much, the block out the thoughts you don’t want to hear.” By the time we arrived, there were only about ten students involved in several small conversations over some piping hot waffles with berry jam. “Just turn off your mind to them.” Thanks.
I sat for several minutes in concentration while my waffles grew soggy and cold. Still, I could hear a Striker girl’s nervous thoughts about her Round Six test, and the boy next to her who didn’t want her to move on without him. Even the cook thought what spoiled brats we all were for not realizing what a treat berry jam was at that time of year.
“It’s not working. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.”
“You’re not trying hard enough then.”
For the rest of spring, Avis tortured me with his insistence that I be the first to arrive at the dining hall for every meal and the last to leave. I quickly became the butt of all kinds of jokes, both aloud and in thought. “Has to learn to eat before he learns to track” or “Too skinny to make it through the winter” were some of the most popular varieties, but there were worse ones, too. “Parents didn’t love him so he eats to fill his empty heart” was particularly cruel.
All he would say was, “That’s not good enough” or “Why don’t you try for once?” or whatever useless, unhelpful badgering came to mind.
By the start of my fourteenth summer, all my time in the dining hall at least earned me a new set of brown pants that were several inches longer, as well as some substantial meat on my bones, if not any actual accomplishment in terms of my Spark. Avis was about as useful as a cart with a bad wheel.
Micha and Iseut returned from the Oakwick a week later. They had grown close in their months in the wilderness, and each of them was significantly improved in their tracking. I left my vexing session with Avis in the dining hall to meet them at the gate when they arrived, surprised at how good it was to see them again.
“Damn you smell,” I told Micha and laughed; it felt like a long time since I’d seen him.
“You spend four months sleeping outside and bathing in frozen creeks and see how great you smell.” In Micha’s thoughts were something else, something he didn’t know how to process. He had started to think of Iseut as more than just a fellow tracker.
I was sure Micha was about as good a friend–and as good a man–as there could be. He had known my secret for a few years and was perfectly loyal; he had never considered telling anyone. I hoped things would work out for him, whether with Iseut or someone else. He deserved it.
As I headed back to my studies in the dining hall, leaving Micha to the baths, I noticed Khea at the end of the corridor. It had been a long time since I’d seen her, and I wasn’t sure if we were even still friends anymore. I had talked to her so infrequently since we arrived at Myxini that it seemed impossible we had anything in common; she slipped away without a word, and I knew she recognized it as well.
Unlike Micha and Iseut, who were promptly promoted to Round Four, I was stuck–stuck with Avis, stuck in the dining hall, stuck with no progress.
It occurred to me one day that Spirituals probably had a particularly challenging learning process due to the evanescent nature of their Sparks. Elementals could see fire or water or earth to manipulate it, although Puffers probably had a little bit harder time the wind. Naturals could look at a trail or a tree or an animal and sense things about it. But what could I do with thoughts? They were as momentary as anything could be.
It was that line of thought that led me to imagine I could see the thoughts that streamed out of someone’s head and moved towards mine. The first few times I tried it in the corridor or out in the gardens where I could practice on students one at a time. At least I felt a little more in control if I could picture what was happening when thoughts invaded my head.
One day in the middle of the summer, as I sat in yet another futile session with Avis, the thoughts of the dining hall were occupied mostly by something called the Moonwater.
“Don’t worry about it. Concentrate.” I did as Avis told me, though I just ate my dinner and pictured the stream of silken threads of thought float to me from all around the large room. The little bit of visualization allowed me to eat my meals at a normal pace.
There’s no water on the moon. What is that supposed to mean? It didn’t make any sense.
“Lark! Concentrate.”
I’d like to put you on the moon.
“Fine, it’s a festival, at the end of every third summer, to celebrate the harvest moon as it falls over the lake. Lheda just announced it this morning.” I wasn’t interested in festivals. Wine and silly flower hats wouldn’t help me graduate my rounds before I died of old age. “Right. So concentrate. I like what you’re doing with the threads.”
I had the threads pictured in my mind, tiny spider-silk lines that connected me to each student. But that was it; that was as far as I could go. I could only picture the threads. And then it hit me. Again I imagined each thread as it sent the thoughts of the Moonwater to me. I selected a thread and cut it as if I wielded a sharp knife. Nothing.
“Keep going,” Avis urged.
I continued with my mental knife, and sliced through the threads one by one. When I was about halfway through, the volume in my head quieted significantly, which made it easier to control the process. Less than a minute later, I could hear my own thoughts in a way that only happened when I went tracking alone.
My thoughts were finally clear. I could feel the vibration of my breath and actually use my ears to hear the conversations going on around me. I hastily ate a bite of turkey, closed my eyes, and savored it in a way I hadn’t been able to in years. When I opened my eyes, Avis was gone and my third black stripe lay across the table.
Obsidian
My newfound mental quiet had several unanticipated effects. After a few quick snips I was able to eliminate the thoughts of students who wandered at night and interrupted my sleep. No more excited thoughts about girls in night clothes or wondering if they would get caught sneaking around; just nice, peaceful sleep.
At meals, I could concentrate on eating, what my food tasted like, and the topic of the conversation. The start of Round Four was when I started to gain some serious weight and inches, and by the end of my sixteenth summer, I barely resembled the thin, dirty boy that left Lagodon. I was taller than nearly every other boy my age; my shirts had become so tight that Avis traded them in for some that would accommodate my broader shoulders.
Initially, it seemed like Round Four would be the quickest and easiest of all the rounds. I had mastered archery at a young age and was better than the other students by far. I was reminded that my Spark dealt with hunting, at least in part, and archery was the method I had culminated the most. It seem
ed that having a Spark wasn’t the only factor in a student’s success; we had to work to learn about ourselves and control our abilities, just as Iseut had done in the Creekmont.
The first part of Round Four required students make a bow from a limb and hairs from a horse’s tail. It wasn’t easy to work with the unforgiving wood from the young tree, but my father and I had made at least a half dozen bows and I was well familiar with the technique. What took other students weeks or months, I had finished in a day, though Avis didn’t seem particularly happy about it.
Having Avis as my mentor was the strangest part about my experience at Myxini. Sometimes he acted like he hated me or wanted nothing as badly as he wanted me to fail. Other times he was helpful, even outgoing, and when I reached the end of a round, he seemed almost proud sometimes. But just when I thought I had him figured out, he would go and do something I hadn’t expected, which left me more perplexed than ever.
The second portion of Round Four required students to use their bow and arrows to shoot targets across the field at various distances. Again, I managed to complete the task in less than a day.
“Don’t get cocky.” Avis chided when I returned to my room that afternoon. He was like a ghost that lurked in corners when you weren’t looking and clearly preferred my quarters as his prime lurking spot.
“Nice to see you, too.”
“You know what the last part is. Have you ever ridden a horse?”
Of course he knew that I hadn’t, but he just liked to torment me. The thoughts of the other students had already told me that I would be required to hit targets while riding a horse through the trails that cut through the Creekmont to the northeast of campus. I didn’t know where to get a horse or any other details that seemed like they would be significant. The only thing I did know was that Avis would be cryptic and offer virtually no help as long as I needed it.
As usual, Avis walked out the door without a goodbye of any kind and left me to get to the dining hall for some braised veal and onions. Since I had learned to silence the voices, meals were a joy, though I began to wonder if I could do more than turn them on or off. At that point, it was an all or nothing type of deal, so I didn’t hear Rhada as she approached.
“Hey, Lark.”
“Hey, how’s being a Handler going?” Somehow Avis had done his word and had her moved into the Handler rate, though she had to start over at Round One. She was the only Handler at Myxini due to it being considered a useless skill, but she helped manage the horses in the stables, and I had heard she was doing quite well there.
“It’s great, really great. It’s all thanks to you, you know?”
“No, I hear you’re doing a great job with the horses. You have a real gift.”
“Thanks, Lark.” She became quiet and looked quite nervous. She folded her hands in her lap and appeared as if she was having trouble saying something.
“What is it?” I asked her, in hopes to help her get started.
“Nothing.” And then a moment later, “Do you have a partner for the festival yet?” Oh no.
“Uh, no. I wasn’t really planning on going.”
Rhada just looked up at me with eager eyes and rosy cheeks, and I didn’t need to hear her thoughts to know what they were. I stifled a sigh and decided I could do a small favor for an excited girl.
“But I was just waiting for the right girl to go with.” A big, happy grin consumed her face as she leaned in to give me a peck on the cheek. I guess I should have been more excited about my first kiss, but I was more concerned that maybe I had given her the wrong idea. She happily bounced away to a group of girls while I sighed and shook my head. What did I get myself into?
~~~~~~~~~~
Avis sat on my bed the next morning with a spiteful grin, and I immediately knew I was in for something unpleasant. “Today, you learn to ride.” he announced. I had seen people ride dozens of times and they didn’t seem to have any particular trouble with it. I hoped I would learn quickly and be able to move on to Round Five without too much difficulty.
With my three-striped green shirt and loose brown trousers, I followed behind Avis as he led me from the dining hall to the stables located on the exterior of the southern wall that separated the school from the rest of the city. Despite his happiness at what he thought would prove to be a miserable day, I was excited to mount a horse. I’d never known anyone who could afford a horse in Lagodon, so learning to ride was a bit like reading–something far more grand than my childhood dreams allowed.
Thankfully I left my senses open and heard Rhada think of how excited she was that I came to the stables before I was close enough to speak to her. It gave me enough time to prepare myself with something to say as Avis began to snicker. It was yet another moment I wished I had an ounce of privacy even in my own head.
“Hey, Lark.” Rhada said as she loped over to meet us. I can’t believe he came to see me! echoed loudly from her thoughts.
“Hey, Rhada. This is my mentor, Avis.” I said as I motioned to my mentor who barely contained his laughter. “Avis, this is my friend, Rhada. The one you helped get switched to Handler.”
And in that moment I could sense the shift. She thought I was responsible for her switch from torturous tracking to divine handling, and that had earned her highest esteem. In fact, I did have a part to play, but once she learned the older and dark-haired Avis had been involved, she began to change the target of her infatuation. When I looked over at Avis, he had stopped laughing, obviously getting the same reading.
“Wow! It’s really great to meet you!” Rhada began to spew her excitement.
“We’re really just here to get the horses.” Avis replied dryly, clearly not interested in preserving Rhada’s feelings; I was glad he was the one to take the hit. I hoped we could go to the festival as friends.
“Oh, they’re right over here. They both have new shoes and fresh oil on the saddles.” I walked in to the stable to see a majestic, white horse as big as I’d ever seen one.
“Oh no, no. That’s Pearl. That’s my Pearl.” Avis said as he walked up, stroked her nose, and pulled an apple from his pocket. “She’s been with me since I was in Round Four.”
I realized immediately what Avis intended for me. He would give me the slowest, most nervous horse he could find and I would have to ride it for the rest of my years at Myxini. It was just the sort of thing Avis would do.
“Here, Lark. This one is yours.” Rhada told me excitedly. Maybe it won’t be so bad.
I moved to the next stall and saw an elegant mare the color of the darkest night on the Creekmont; a pure, black beauty. Her coat shone even in the dim light of the stables, and her muscles rippled with strength below. My recent growth left me standing barely at her shoulder. It had to be a joke.
“She’s one of the fastest horses we’ve ever had. The horsemaster said Avis picked her for you.”
“No really. Where’s my horse?” I asked Avis, more than a little angry he would pull such a trick.
“If you don’t like her, we can find you a more suitable horse,” he replied without a hint of malice.
I couldn’t believe it. Just when he had the opportunity to make my life miserable for years, he went out of his way to help me. I was sure I would never understand.
“Come on. Let’s go.” Avis pulled down the thin, leather reins and began to walk Pearl out of the stables, so I did likewise and followed behind him, still in shock that I had such a horse.
When we reached the western wall, Avis pulled to a stop. “So there are a few things you need to be aware of before we start.” I nodded my understanding and waited for him to continue.
“This horse is yours for as long as she lives, but after that you’ll be responsible for earning another. As long as she’s in the stables at Myxini, she’ll be fed, watered, and shoed as well as a horse could be. And you’ll be the one to name her.”
I stood for a moment and took it all in. I owned a horse. I was going to r
ide her. It was more than I could have ever pictured for myself.
“Before you can ride, you have to learn to saddle her. You won’t always be here where your little love will get her ready for you.”
“She’s not my love and you know it.”
“Start by unhooking the buckle that wraps under her belly. That will let you slide the saddle off her. Well, you better get yourself ready for the festival. The girls take it very seriously around here.”
I pulled the saddle onto the ground and mimicked Avis as he slid down the thick wool blanket beneath it. “You don’t need to worry about me. I have no intention of doing anything with Rhada.”
Avis slid the reins down and pulled the shiny tin bridle from Pearl’s mouth, so I did the same to my dark gem.
“I didn’t mean Rhada, obviously. But you wouldn’t be the first to become a man at the Moonwater. It does something to them.” He waved his fingers in the air as if inciting some sort of witchcraft.
When the horses stood completely free of any gear, Avis and I began to replace each piece, one by one, starting with the bridle.
I tried to concentrate on the horse, but my mind wandered. What would it be like to become a man? What if no girls wanted me? What if I didn’t do a good job?
“It’s not a job.” Avis said laughing. “Look, girls at this age are easy. And you have a bit of an… advantage.” For the rest of the morning Avis gave me advice on what to expect, what to say, and– most oddly– where to touch. It was hard to tell if he was serious or just hoping to get a laugh out of me again. But after the morning with the horse, I guess I owed him a bit of trust.
Around noon, Avis offered me an apple and a roll and we sat beneath a pine tree to eat.
“What happened to you at the Moonwater?” I asked him.
He leaned back and smiled at the memory. “There was a girl I had a bit of a thing for. She had long, blonde hair and was a gifted Turner.” When I gave him a puzzled look he added, “Someone with a Spark to manipulate time. She cornered me in the garden.” We both laughed heartily, and I thought how odd it was to finally learn something about him after our years together.