The Wandering Inn_Volume 1

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The Wandering Inn_Volume 1 Page 287

by Pirateaba


  No way. It can’t be. But I say it out loud anyways.

  “Is that…Persua?”

  —-

  I have no idea. I think it was Persua. She has that same sallow* face and annoying complexion as ever, and her running form was crap.

  *I know sallow isn’t the right word, but I’m still using it for her. Pinched is probably a better word, but I like sallow.

  But the way she moved! She was moving faster than I was—way faster. How? No, I know how. A Skill. But can it really happen that fast? Persua was the slowest City Runner I knew, even slowly than Garia because she took regular breaks. And now—

  I shake my head as I sit in the small room I’ve rented in the Frenzied Hare. Erin’s got her own room for which I’m grateful; I need the alone time right now.

  I finished my delivery. It was an easy thing; I don’t even have to track down the individual recipients myself with a bulk delivery. I just hand it over to the receptionist at the local Runner’s Guild and get my pay.

  Easy. And now I’m relaxing in my room, using the few hours I have before dinner to do some studying. Not dwelling on Persua; studying.

  I sigh and look back at the massive tome in front of me. A book—a magical spell book lies on the table in front of me, so big there’s nowhere else on the table for me to put anything else.

  I’m studying magic. That’s what I’ve been doing every day, while Erin causes havoc in Octavia’s shop and generally runs about the city. I’ve cut back on doing my deliveries to make time for this.

  Learning magic. Learning spells from the tome of wonders that Teriarch gave me. And how many new spells have I learned today?

  Well, none, actually. And how many did I learn yesterday?

  None, again. In fact, ever since I opened the book to this page I’ve been…

  Stuck.

  I stare down at the page covered with words that are part magic, part language. They shine at me, spelling out secrets in the magical language that I can only comprehend at a snail’s pace. But I can read the words—

  I just can’t accept what they say.

  I raise my hand, and take a breath. It’s not that warm in my room; there’s not exactly central heating in this building, although heat does come up from the ground floor. But it’s chilly even so, and I opened the window to let some air in, despite the freezing cold outside. None of the windows in this inn have glass, so either I keep the shutters closed and suffocate, or face the weather.

  Ignore that. Concentrate. I fix all my attention on my hand and try to push an invisible force into the right place. Let it condense, like rainwater. Make it into a current and push—

  “[Water Spray].”

  I say the words, and try to use the magic. But nothing happens. I stare at my hand, and say the words again.

  “[Water Spray].”

  Again, my hand and the air around it are completely still.

  “Damn it.”

  It’s not working. I look back at the page in the book and clench my fists. Another failure.

  “It makes no sense. It’s not—”

  I take another breath, and try to exhale slowly. No. It’s really not working, is it? I can’t figure it out. This—

  This isn’t working.

  I stand up and walk slowly around my cramped room. Yeah. I’ve been trying to put off this conclusion for a while. Day after day I’ve done this, but I’m no closer to the answer than I was yesterday. I have to call it. I have to say it.

  “I can’t do it.”

  This is the real reason why every day hasn’t been great. Stress, Goblins, all of my worries are one thing, but I think I could have handled it all if it wasn’t for this.

  I can’t learn magic. I thought I could, but I can’t. I got this book from Teriarch, a complete beginner’s guide to spells that should allow me to learn every spell easily and quickly. Hell, I mastered one of the spells in the book in minutes! But I tried reading more spells before I delivered the book to Krshia and its…just not working for me.

  The first two spells were easy. I learned a basic telekinesis cantrip—the ability to lift things up like Ceria and Pisces do. Nothing fancy, and I’d have to really work to lift more than the few snowflakes off the table, but it was easy enough to grasp. And then I figured out how to blow air around, another fun trick. But then I started reading another spell—[Water Spray], a very simplistic spell that’s probably Tier 0, and I got stuck.

  I stare down at the page again. There are no pictures, probably because magic isn’t something you can just describe in words. But I look at the meanings described on the page and I know exactly what must be done.

  Let the magic condense, coalesce into a liquid, a real thing. Let it pool and grow, into a current and ocean of its own. Hold it, and then let it manifest as you push it outwards into the shape you desire. Magic is like water, a rushing thing to be guided, but never forced. You cannot force the sea to move, but you can give it a channel—

  Why can’t I get this? Well, because I can’t believe it works. Simple as that. I understand how the spell goes and how I conjure water out of the air but—

  I can’t do it. It violates the basic laws of physics. To cast [Water Spray], I need to turn magic into water, anchor it in a form and then use magic to spray it out. Simple.

  But I know that it’s impossible. Magic into matter? It doesn’t work like that. It violates the laws of thermodynamics! What about conservation of energy? The water dissipates fast, but does it evaporate or turn back into magic?

  And what about fire? How is it mimicking a natural reaction if it’s burning…magic? Would it still burn in an airtight room?

  I clutch at my head. This is all wrong. It should be easy. I get how it works, but now—

  I can’t believe it works. That’s the problem. All the science I know, all the laws of my reality I’ve grown up with—they’re telling me what I’m trying to do is impossible, making me doubt what I’m doing and ask questions this book can’t answer.

  And magic is partly faith. It must be. If I don’t believe what I’m doing will work, it won’t work. And I don’t believe I can cast this spell. I suppose I just didn’t think about it with the [Light] spell and even when I learned to make fire. But making water out of nothing just doesn’t—

  The problem becomes a loop of errors in my head as I struggle to convince myself that I can conjure water out of nothing. But it doesn’t help. I can try to do the spell, but it won’t work. I have to know. I have to understand, and I think…

  “I can’t do this.”

  Not with this book. I stare down at it, wanting to throw up, or throw it through my window. It’s so easy to learn with this book. It should be. But because I went to school and studied all these damn lessons about how the world works, I can’t believe in these spells.

  “Education ruined magic.”

  I don’t want to believe that’s true, but I’ve been stuck on this one spell. I can’t move on until I complete it—I just can’t. Even when I look at other spells, all the doubts that popped into my head from this one follow me from page to page.

  Maybe if I stare at it longer, something will click. [Water Spray]. Magic turns into water, water appears. I can’t—

  Damnit.

  I’m so miserable and angry at myself I want to put my fist through something. A wall, maybe. I clench my fingers on my right hand and stare at the deformed fist I make.

  Something else to add more depression to my day. I stare at the book and my hand.

  Today wasn’t a bad day. Not really. I did some deliveries. I got to see Erin punch an adventurer in the face. I saw Persua—

  And the faeries think I’m boring. They left.

  All except one.

  I look out my window. The sky is gray and the rooftops are filled with snow. But is she out there? Or has she gone too?

  She’s out there. I didn’t even realize it at first. But I see something hovering just outside my window. A faint blue shape, holding so still in
the air that I didn’t even realize she was watching me.

  A Frost Faerie meets my eyes as I stare at her and nearly tumble out of my seat. She laughs at me as I stare at her and feel the wind blow into my room.

  “Hello?”

  She smiles at me, and floats forwards a bit. The wind is blowing hard, but she doesn’t even seem to be affected by the air that blows my hair about and flicks the pages on the spellbook. She’s in a little world of her own, but she stops at the edge of my windowsill.

  Oh. Right. I stare at her and the room I’m in. Faeries are a bit like Vampires. They can’t enter unless invited. Do I have the right? I don’t own this inn—

  But I am renting this room. I cough and clear my throat.

  “Come in. If you want.”

  The faerie stares at me for a second, and then nods in agreement. She alights on my windowsill and dances into the room, twirling and leaping onto my desk with effortless grace. Her feet leave frost on the wood wherever they touch, and I can sense the chill from her.

  The faerie shivers, although I don’t. She looks around the room darkly.

  “Too much cold iron here. ‘Tis not a good place for true magics, or my kind. But then, ye can’t even master a few tricks, so the iron doubtless hinders ye little.”

  It’s the first words she says. Not ‘hello’ or ‘how are you?’ or even ‘sorry I was spying on you this entire time’. She just jumps into the heart of the conversation like that. I like that about faeries.

  “You mean iron interferes with spells? Is that why I can’t master this one?”

  The faerie shakes her head at me as she scoffs at the large tome on my table. She steps on one of the pages and kicks the parchment with a foot.

  “Pshaw. The magic yon book teaches is only a fragment of true magic. Ye should know that.”

  “I do. But I don’t know real magic. A fragment is better than nothing.”

  The faerie nods, and looks at me.

  “True. But you cannot learn even that, can ye? I’ve been watching you, and a toad would pick up that spell faster than ye can.”

  I bite my tongue. But she’s right.

  “I can’t figure it out.”

  “And neither will you. You think too much and feel far too little. You look for rules where none exist, and make your own to hold you back. Ye won’t learn magic like this.”

  I don’t want to hear that. But the faerie’s words ring true. I clench my teeth again, but—she’s not trying to be rude. Okay, she’s doing it without much thought, but I know enough about faeries to realize she’s being direct with me, and as helpful as she can.

  “Thanks for the advice.”

  She inclines her head regally. I know I shouldn’t ever thank a faerie, at least according to legend, but she doesn’t seem malicious. Hell, the faeries know my full name and they haven’t done anything to me.

  What do they want? I clear my throat awkwardly again as the faerie looks around my little room. Here I am, with a faerie in my room. I should…she’s the last one. I need to ask questions. First though, make her welcome.

  “Can I offer you anything? Something to eat or drink?”

  “Do ye have anything?”

  “…No.”

  “Then don’t offer, fool.”

  Okay, off to a bad start. I stare at the faerie as she leaps up into the air at eye height and sits there, as if there’s an invisible cushion under her.

  “Why are you here? By yourself, I mean. All of your friends flew off.”

  “They did. They grew bored of ye, and went to find excitement somewhere else.”

  A straightforward answer. But I still don’t get why.

  “Is it because of Teriarch and the game of riddles I played with him? Is that why they all left?”

  “In part.”

  The faerie nods as she scratches at the bottom of her foot with a tiny digit. She yawns widely, showing me sharp teeth.

  “My sisters think ‘twas ill done. They dislike the trickery of numbers, but it is just as good as the trickery of words to me.”

  “You disagree?”

  “I like such things now and then, and it was well done to win even in losing. We are not all alike, my kin. Does it surprise you that one of us would like the dance of thoughts as much as the dance of tongues?”

  No. I should have known not all fairies were alike. I just—okay, maybe that was fairly racist. Speciesist? Why is it that the immortal species, Dragons and fae, tend to leave me thoughtless and speechless? It’s like all of my cynicism and complex questions fade away in their presence. There’s no doubting their presence when they’re in front of you.

  The faerie points at something close to falling off the edge of my desk. The bag of holding and golden coins sits innocuously; just large enough for a handful of coins at best, certainly not large enough to hold this magical book. But it can hold a huge amount of space—all my bed covers and two chairs besides, I’ve found. After that it just acts like a normal bag until I start pulling stuff out. I haven’t yet found the courage to put my head inside.

  “Yon lies your prize for a Dragon’s duel. Golden coins and a magic bag to hold them. ‘Tis every mortal’s dream, isn’t it? Or did you want something else from the old scales and smoke?”

  “I don’t know. Did I?”

  The faerie flies forwards and smacks me on the nose before I can blink. I yelp and touch my frozen flesh—she glares at me.

  “Either you did or ye didn’t. Don’t answer a question with a question, ye prat.”

  Again, I have to restrain the urge to punch back. I’d probably lose, and I know the faeries are prickly. And she’s right. Sort of.

  “Sorry. I don’t know what I wanted from him. Maybe I could have asked him to teach me magic.”

  “He would have said no. He’s a lazy oaf, that wyrm.”

  “Maybe. But I got most of what I wanted.”

  She nods, and I fall silent for a second. The real question is burning on my tongue. I have to know, so I ask it.

  “Why did you stay when the others left? What do the fae really want with me? With this world?”

  She looks at me archly.

  “Why ask a question you know I will not answer? You want to know more than you should. You ask a question I could not answer with ten thousand words as if it were a simple thing.”

  “Sue me. I’m curious. Is what I asked too broad? Why are you following me?”

  The faerie sighs with exasperated patience.

  “Why do I follow anyone?”

  “I thought you said not to answer a question with a question.”

  This time I’m ready and I swat at her as she flies at my face. The faerie flips over my hand with nimble grace and kicks my forehead. For a small creature she hits hard.

  “Smart as an ass, aren’t ye? I follow and watch ye in case you do something of worth. You told me and my kin stories, and dared to defy the fates. You bargained with a Dragon, and met one who rules over death. Is there any other mortal I should bother following that’s done more?”

  When she says it like that…I almost blush. I clear my throat. It’s so awkward, but the faerie doesn’t seem the least bit embarrassed, and that just makes me embarrassed. She doesn’t lie; she just says what she thinks.

  “You’ve been following me for a while, haven’t you? I thought you were familiar—have I spoken to you specifically before?”

  She nods and flashes me a smile.

  “Oh yes. I followed you with the others as you ran, and I was the one you struck. I listened to tales of Humans from your world, and it was I who warned you of the armies and led you through the forest. I was there when you cast the bargain, and I accepted the second price. I am surprised you noticed; most beings cannot tell us apart.”

  I thought so. For the longest time I just thought of all the faeries as one and the same, but this one—she and I have spoken more than I thought. I stare at the small faerie, and feel a sudden connection with her.

  “So all of yo
ur sisters are gone because I’m too boring and you’re still sticking around. What do you want?”

  “What do ye think I want?”

  The faerie looks me in the eye, practically daring me to point out her evasiveness. I don’t do that this time. Instead, I think. She’s not answering me because she can’t. Or she doesn’t want to. So what’s the answer?

  “Maybe…because you want something of me. Or there’s something I can do for you?”

  The tiny faerie rolls her eyes.

  “Hah!”

  Okay, that’s not it. Then there’s something I can do for her. Or—

  “Could it be you just want to see what happens next?”

  “An obvious answer. I suppose ye are right.”

  The faerie shakes her small head, disappointed. I feel guilty, as if I’ve failed an easy test. But what could she want?

  I wish Erin were here to answer. She’d have the damn answer in a second, somehow. She’s better with people than I am. She’d be making friends with the fae in a heartbeat—she could probably befriend a rabid bear.

  But then—even she’s had problems with the fae before. She told me about their scam with the fake flowers. I’m really the only person who’s dealt with them for a long period of time. The faeries have hung around me, and I even managed to gain their respect.

  And this one has followed me a long ways. Even when her friends are gone she’s stuck around? Why? That’s almost like…

  Like…

 

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