A Sorcerer Rises (Song of Sorcery Book 1)

by Guy Antibes

  “Oh no, sire. I wouldn’t be in business long if that happened.”

  The one server in the room admitted taking a sizable fee from Victor to substitute the wine. With his eyepatch no one could dispute who the culprit was.

  “It’s easy to see that Victor Taranta hired street thugs to kill Hendrico Valian and possibly Saganet Crabacci, Karian Grandari, and Effilia Asucco, as well. The four of them acted in self-defense. We don’t encourage violence in Tossa, but Victor Taranta brought the violence to Hendrico. I don’t see any reason but to express my condolences to Lord Taranta and his wife and rule the attack an unfortunate event,” the magistrate said.

  Lord Taranta stood. “Magic. The only way the Valian boy could defeat those men was with magic. The chief constable is still at a loss how all of the attackers were killed without injury to those attacked.”

  “Is this correct?” the magistrate said.

  Ricky said nothing. Saganet rose. “None of the men died by magic. They all suffered physical wounds by our weapons.”

  “That is correct,” the magistrate said after looking at some of the papers on his desk. “The men all died from the sword and the strange weapon that the Valian boy wielded.”

  Taranta looked upset and turned red in the face but nodded and sat down.

  “I also examined the statutes of Tossa and Paranty and could find no law or regulation that would make the cane weapon illegal for a minor to carry. Although that may change after this instance.” The magistrate droned on about various statutes and regulations until even Lord Taranta lost interest.

  “The inquest finds that Victor Taranta died of violent causes brought upon by actions he took to cause harm to others. He illegally possessed a sword to do so. May the gods accept his soul,” the magistrate said as he tapped his gavel on the decision bell.

  Fat chance Victor would be admitted into any of the heavens, Ricky thought as he endured the nasty look from Lord Taranta. His wife narrowed her eyes at Ricky.

  “You killed my son, even if you didn’t have the sword in your hand. I’ll make sure that Doubli woman and you four pay for what you’ve done. I guarantee it will be a heavy price.”

  “Is that a threat, Lady Taranta?” Saganet said. He looked at the magistrate, who had obviously listened in.

  “Take it any way you wish. I never wanted Victor to attend that vile academy after that wretched woman took it over from a professional administrator.” She lifted her chin as she walked out the door, tears and sorrow forgotten.

  “I’m glad that is over,” Ricky said.

  Saganet looked at the door the Taranta’s had used. “It’s not over. The players on the Taranta side have changed, so we need to adapt.”

  “But Victor is dead.”

  “His father and mother may be worse than Victor,” Saganet said.

  ~~~

  Chapter Thirty-One

  ~

  E ffie, Saganet, and Ricky sat in Mistress Doubli’s office giving the Dean a report on the magistrate’s ruling.

  “Oh, dear. I tried to be nice to the Tarantas,” Merry said. “So now I’m not good enough to run Doubli.” She looked into each of their eyes and folded her hands on the desk. “I’m good at being a problem,” she said, surprising Ricky.

  He thought Lady Taranta’s comment would intimidate her, but Merry was made of sterner stuff.

  “I’m just glad I don’t mingle in their social circle,” she said. “But they might hire someone to hurt me, right?”

  Saganet nodded. “That might still happen.”

  Merry smiled at Effie. “It looks like I’ll be joining your self-defense class. I’ll need to know the basics to protect myself until I can obliterate any assailant with my magic.”

  “Isn’t that illegal?” Ricky said.

  “It is, but if my life is on the line, pish on the law! You used your talent defeating Victor.”

  Ricky’s mouth dropped open. He had never mentioned his magic, and Saganet hadn’t either.

  “Don’t look so surprised.” She smiled and shook her finger at Ricky. “How else could you have pierced the hearts of four men and then give Victor the sendoff to hell that he so richly deserved?”

  “Merry!” Saganet said. “Ricky is an impressionable student.”

  Were these people playing with him? Ricky thought.

  “The Taranta boy had the worst temper of any student I’ve seen since I came to Doubli,” she said. “The worst, by far. It was a pleasure to expel him.” She looked at Ricky. “Don’t tell any other students that. We have secrets to share, right?”

  Ricky nodded his head. “Right. I’ll admit using my magic, but as Saganet said, I didn’t use magic directly to kill, just for a little advantage.”

  “A big advantage, if you ask me,” said Effie, sitting straight in her chair. “It was fortunate I left my sword in the room. I was too sick to do otherwise.”

  Ricky smiled. “It looks like we all have secrets that we won’t share.”

  That got them all to laugh.

  “And we have a perplexed chief constable. He can’t disprove anything we told him,” Saganet said. “Considering the odds we faced, we did admirably well. Ricky’s performance was exceptional.”

  “My life was on the line.”

  Effie’s smile straightened. “So was theirs.”

  ~

  “So you are a free boy?” Professor Garini asked when they met for the first time after the inquest.

  “I am,” Ricky said.

  “Tell me about it.”

  Ricky repeated the story, yet again. He had to tell Betti, Professor Calasay, and Loria, as well.

  “You used magic, I presume?”

  “How does everyone know that?” Ricky said.

  “You are a sorcerer. It only makes sense to those who know that. What spell? Did you use your shout?”

  Ricky nodded. “It’s apparent to anyone who knows about me and about the spell. I trust all who know of the spell except one.”

  Petro rubbed his chin. “Me?”

  Ricky shook his head. “No, my grandfather, Gobble Bangatelli.”

  “Ooo,” Petro said. “He’s the man with the shantyboat?”

  Ricky nodded.

  “Even if the magistrate found out, he’s already ruled. I’d be careful about using it again, but then your life was threatened. I’d use it myself if I could duplicate the spell. I’ve tried and failed a few times.”

  “I thought any sorcerer could create any spell.”

  Petro shook his head. “Every human body is a bit different. The sounds we use to create resonance are different in every sorcerer and everyone’s force of will varies, too. You’ve learned that as your group has worked to match up your performance effects.”

  “So that makes my shout unique?”

  Petro nodded. “Very. But with any good thing, it needs to be performed sparingly. The fewer people know about your capabilities, the better. One’s true talents are things each sorcerer holds close to them.”

  “So I could go to the Royal University and be able to develop spells no one else can?”

  “Of course. But are those spells useful?” Professor Garini shrugged his shoulders. “You might not be able to duplicate a colored light in the same shade as someone else. You might not be able to shape a sorcerer’s light the same shape as another. Those kinds of things are most common. Working with another in a performance is exhausting because you need to find areas where your magic is perfectly compatible.”

  “Does intent have an effect?”

  “It can. Affinity is like intent. You have an affinity to Loria Mansali. For some reason we don’t fully understand, that allows linked sorcerers to better align their magical effects for a performance. Enough of this. With all the talk of your adventure in the city, you’ve fallen behind Loria in mastering your first few spells. It’s time to work hard to catch up.”

  “Where did we leave off?” Ricky said. The distraction of the last few days had muddled the memory of their prog
ress.

  “Making colored balloons out of light. You—”

  Ricky held up his hand. “Small whitish ones, like a bubble, of course. What is our goal?”

  “Four or five colors a foot to two feet in diameter. Do you think you are up to it?”

  “Do I have a choice?” Ricky said, feeling just a little irritable. He didn’t know why. Maybe he felt frustrated at all the work ahead of him. Was it worth it? Perhaps he would have lived a safer life if he had actually traveled to Applia and spent the last months in the Juvenile Home. No, that wouldn’t have been any safer and maybe much, much worse.

  Petro narrowed his eyes and twisted a corner of his mouth. “We all have a choice, young man. You can walk out of this garden right now if you choose, but choices have consequences.”

  Ricky knew Petro waited for an answer, and he didn’t want to give it. He looked around the garden and at the buildings towering over him on all four sides of the quadrangle. Ricky knew he had made progress on many fronts that he wouldn’t have under any other circumstances.

  “I choose to continue my current path.” Ricky knew he had misbehaved, but he didn’t apologize. He felt he had just passed some kind of barrier, but he knew there were more trials to come.

  “Good,” Petro said, rubbing his hands. “We’ll work on controlling the size of the balloons first, and then the color. It’s all a matter of will. You definitely generate enough resonance to support most of what you want to accomplish. I’m sure you’ll be told that many times during your sorcery education.”

  Petro went into a lecture on will. Ricky saw it all as mentally forcing a result. He had never known magic responded so directly to a change in the force of the mind.

  “I want to feel your shout again.”

  Ricky shouted and moved from one bench to another. He folded his arms and crossed his legs while he waited for the spell’s effect to wear off.

  “Good. I think you are pulsing your will when you sing the shout. This time I want you to shout at the same resonance that created the balloons. You want the balloons to be this big,” Petro said, holding his hands a foot-and-a-half apart. “Do it now.”

  Ricky hummed to build up a reservoir of resonance and then barked out three shouts. Three much larger balloons of light popped into existence in front of them. After a moment, they faded into nothing.

  Petro jumped up and clapped his hands. “Fascinating. Now let’s do it four or five more times today. In performance magic, every spell must be repeatable, especially when performing with a partner.”

  Ricky’s reluctance vanished. He grinned and nodded. After five more tries, his balloons were losing a bit of size.

  “One more, three feet in diameter,” Petro said.

  Ricky didn’t have enough strength for three feet, but he managed to produce a balloon the size of the others.

  “What did you just learn?”

  Ricky pursed his lips in concentration. Professor Garini didn’t mean his lecture on will. He reviewed his results and found his answer. “When you are tired you have to overshoot your will to get a uniform result?”

  “Close enough,” Petro said. “Another way of putting it is in a performance more will is needed at the end when your strength begins to ebb. No one is impressed if the best spells are at the beginning, so you have to keep building the tension and leave the audience with a final spell that knocks them off their seat.”

  “All performance sorcerers practice magic this way?”

  Petro nodded. “All the good ones. If a sorcerer can’t build on their will, they are relegated to the chorus who have fewer demands made on their power.” He stood up. “I think we’ve had an excellent session for today. Tomorrow, I have errands I must see to outside the academy. Practice on your own. If you wish, experiment to see what will help you best change colors, your song, your resonance level, or your will. At this point, it will all be experimentation.”

  “Yes, Professor Garini.”

  “Good session, today. Take care, young man,” Petro said as he left the garden in a different direction than Ricky.

  ~

  Ricky sat alone among mostly empty tables and chairs in the commissary. Benno and Loria walked in, laughing about something. Loria spotted Ricky, and both of them brought their trays to Ricky’s table.

  “Mind if we join you?” Loria said.

  Ricky shook his head. He nodded to Benno and continued to eat.

  “What’s wrong?” Loria said.

  “Nothing. I had a tiring session with Professor Garini.”

  “Did you manage a light balloon yet?” she said.

  Ricky nodded. “I did about fifteen foot-and-a-half ones, but they are all whitish. I haven’t tried out colors, yet.”

  “Better than I,” Loria said. “You’ll move faster than I can.”

  “There is no faster. We have to do everything together, so we succeed when the slowest person is ready. But I’ve learned that magic is different for each sorcerer. I’m faster with producing balloons, but you might be faster with colors.”

  She nodded. “How do you feel about your fight?”

  “I’m glad I’m sitting here talking to you both, but I didn’t like the cost. I was very upset when it happened.” Especially his stomach, Ricky thought.

  Ricky actually was trying to feel worse about the fatal encounter but was having trouble generating enough conscience. He should feel worse, but he didn’t.

  “Effie said you were sick,” Benno said.

  Ricky nodded. “We’re eating, you know,” he said. “It’s over. Time to move on.”

  Benno eyed Ricky but didn’t say anything. They ate in silence for awhile.

  “Thanks for getting me into Professor Crabacci’s summer workouts,” Benno finally said.

  It seemed to Ricky that he was intent on breaking an awkward silence. He looked at Loria. “How is your new exercise clothing?”

  She flashed him a smile. “Much better. All the girls are more comfortable, but Miss Ascucco spends more time watching us run and exercise than teaching us how to defend.

  Benno laughed. “Get used to it. When I worked out with Ricky, I ran off lots of pounds…”

  Loria was silent.

  “Uh, not that you have any pounds to lose, but conditioning makes it easier to learn how to use weapons,” Benno said.

  Ricky smiled at Benno’s discomfort. “I agree with Benno, on the conditioning-helping-you part. Without it, I don’t think I would have survived. It probably helps maintain your strength when you perform.”

  Loria pursed her lips and then softened her features. “I’m not sure I can duplicate what you did, but I will have to try my best.”

  Benno exhaled with relief, and that brought an angry glance from Loria, but then she smiled. “How can I not accept the counsel from my two friends?”

  “We should be eager to help each other,” Ricky said, “Eat up. Loria and I have to learn more sorcery.”

  ~~~

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  ~

  S aganet missed his class that morning. Effie didn’t know where he had gone. Ricky figured his guardian would show up during his studies. He fixed something from the cottage pantry for dinner and then reviewed Professor Garini’s assignment.

  He needed to create a sparkling fountain from a cane. This was harder than the balloons of light since it was all illusion. Petro had reduced the spell into four steps, and Ricky could only do the first two. The sparkles were beyond him.

  After another failed try, Ricky ground his teeth. Loria had said she had already finished that same spell. He knew he shouldn’t, but he treated the sequence of spells as a competition. He stepped outside to clear his head. Sorcerous communication hadn’t been discussed for two weeks. Frustration filled him.

  He remembered Petro telling him that any distraction could diminish his will. He wondered if the problem could be so easily solved. He paced in the last hour of sunlight for the day, and since Saganet hadn’t shown up, he decided to see if
Saganet was at his townhouse.

  Armed with a knife and his new cane, he walked out of the academy. The very act of stepping foot outside the gate felt liberating. He strolled through the streets of Tossa, recognizing the landmarks that Saganet had pointed out to him when they first visited his townhouse.

  He turned down the alley and saw movement in the carriage house. He peeked through the windows, and four men were searching for something. Saganet was nowhere to be seen.

  Ricky proceeded to the tavern and slipped down to the basement storage room. He took a deep breath and decided he would find out what had happened to Saganet. The walk through the tunnel seemed longer than before, but Ricky became more agitated with every step.

  He could hear muffled voices above. The searchers hadn’t found the secret passage. Ricky entered the hidden room. He examined the wall facing the basement and found a small, thick panel. He slid it aside and discovered a tiny opening that he could use as a spy-hole.

  The basement was totally dark. The clunking of boots could still be heard from above. Ricky opened the door and closed it again. He quickly moved through the basement to the tunnel that led to Saganet’s townhouse and rushed to the other side.

  The basement armory hadn’t been disturbed either, but he heard steps on the main floor. He buckled on a sword and scampered to the stairway. Ricky slowly crept up the stairs and tried the door. He sighed when the latch wouldn’t open. Saganet must have the key.

  He felt around the door, not wanting his dim sorcerer’s light to show through any cracks. The lock itself didn’t look very tough. It was on Ricky’s side of the door. He had long ago learned how to pick locks from Gobble, his grandfather, and the lock wasn’t anything spectacular.

  Ricky waited until he didn’t hear any sounds on the other side and quickly opened the door. He jiggled the lock just enough to keep the door from opening, but not enough to keep him from getting back in the basement. He sneaked across the hallway to the foot of the stairs. It seemed that all the sounds came from the second floor.

  The setting sun bathed Ricky in light momentarily as a cloud finished dimming the late day sun. Ricky felt exposed. Someone stepped onto the stair at the top, so he quickly sought refuge in a closet built into the staircase.