‘Look closely,’ Mr Kelvin instructed.
Samuel did, and saw a small, dark stone of squarish proportions. Stuck to it were several tiny black grains. Mr Kelvin used an edge of paper to knock the grains from the stone. As they fell away and struck the desk, they immediately sprang back and stuck onto the stone. Samuel was astonished.
‘The stone has become magnetised,’ Mr Kelvin informed. ‘The grains are attracted to it because of their metallic properties. Now observe.’
Mr Kelvin then pulled the grains off with his fingers and dropped them onto a thin piece of paper. He then held the paper up and, with his other hand, held the stone to its underside. As he slid the stone up and down under the paper, the tiny grains raced along, following the trail of the stone.
‘See, the energy passes between the two objects without their direct contact. This is influence over distance. The energy that exists in our bodies, although it is very different, can often affect other objects similarly, such as the space closely surrounding us. Each person has a natural sphere of influence that surrounds them. It is merely a side effect of our existence. Like the ripples that surround a pebble dropped into a still pool, so our existence affects our environment.’
‘Can you see my energy, Mr Kelvin?’ Samuel asked eagerly.
‘Oh, no,’ he laughed, ‘but I’m sure you have some. This particular energy is invisible to the human eye. Some have been said to have the gift of such sight, but they were among myths and legend. Now, enough of such talk. We must finish this division before we completely forget where we are.’ Mr Kelvin began to sort the papers he had disturbed for his demonstration. ‘Now where were we?’ he asked of himself.
That same night, Samuel again awoke and again climbed up onto the stable roof, feeling sure that the tickling in his bones had some meaning. Sure enough, the room was again lit. Mr Geoffries and Mr Copperpot both were there, sitting with legs crossed, completely still except for the matching, rhythmical motion of their chests. The energy that surrounded each man grew and spun with each deep breath, pulsing out and intermingling with the other’s. Samuel fell asleep watching them, and only awoke sometime later when he nearly rolled off the roof. Samuel looked up, but the room was again empty and dark and the night was cold around him. People did have an energy around them and only then did the realisation sink into him that he alone, perhaps of all the people in the world, could see it. He had some unique ability that no one else would even believe. As Samuel crept back into his bed, his skin was bristling with goosebumps, but the cold of night had nothing to do with them.
It was some time later when a new rider entered the guesthouse. As expected, he was wearing the same black clothes that the guests were always draped in. He rode his horse directly to the stables and quickly dismounted, ignoring Samuel and rushing inside the inn. Most curious of all was his dark skin. It was not black like ink, as it was said some people were, but he looked tanned, as if he had been working in the sun for hours every day. It was rare to see skin of such a deep colour. After that, there was no sign of the man for the entire day and Mr Kelvin did not even send word of his lesson that evening, which made Samuel think that something important must be happening inside.
Samuel was wide awake all night, filled with some unexplained excitement, when some peculiar sounds from the inn brought him scuttling once more up onto his roof. From his position opposite the window, Samuel found the candles already lit, and the tanned man was moving about and shouting in some form of crazed or drunken dance. He was shouting and throwing his brown arms and legs about, turning circles and dropping to his knees, only to spring up and jump away again. His glow was unlike anything Samuel had ever seen before. Each set of motions set it spinning and pulsing like a nest of angry wasps, a flurry of dazzling lights. The man performed an amazing set of leaps, especially impressive considering the lankiness of his limbs, and then, without warning, stopped dead still and calmly sat down. He crossed his legs and closed his eyes and it took some time for Samuel to realise that nothing else was going to happen. The aura that surrounded the man slowed and steadied, but it remained strong and vital, greater than when Samuel had first seen him in the room. Samuel was curious and, as he dropped from the roof and went to his room, he pondered the man’s movements. He put his face up to the tiny magnetic stone that Mr Kelvin had left for him and pulled the grains from its surface, watching them snap back. He did it a few times, never ceasing to be amazed by the wondrous reaction, before slipping into bed and soon falling asleep.
The tanned man came to Samuel early the next day and asked with a calm voice for his horse to be readied. He was patient and pleasant and his black cloak was of a fine material, which led Samuel to think that he was an important man. Samuel even thought his features looked familiar, as if he had seen him somewhere before, but, even with such a striking colour to him, Samuel could not remember precisely where.
‘Excuse me, Sir?’ Samuel asked.
The man was startled for a moment, as if he had become lost in his thoughts and had forgotten Samuel was there. ‘Yes? What is it?’ There was some kind of accent in his words that was very different to the local folk.
‘Excuse my curiosity, but you seem very familiar to me. You remind me of someone I saw a long time ago. Have you ever been to Stable Waterford?’ Samuel asked.
‘Why, yes. I often pass through there,’ he replied, bearing a kind smile. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘When I lived there, I saw a man who looked much as you do, Sir, though perhaps much taller. He was dressed quite strangely in purple and he performed tricks in the market and he was dark skinned, just like you.’
The man laughed and he nodded. ‘Yes, that sounds like me, although I suspect it was some time ago. I have not grown much taller in recent years and so I think it is more likely that you have grown quite a bit. And fancy meeting you here! This is quite a surprise.’
‘Were you poor then?’ Samuel asked. ‘I remember everyone giving you some money. I thought you were a beggar.’
Again the man laughed. ‘You have a good memory, young friend. In some places, I must sometimes travel in disguise. Also, I enjoy entertaining the common folk. People look forward to seeing me and enjoy seeing my tricks as much as I enjoy performing them. I would enjoy talking with you more, but I must hurry. Perhaps, in the future, we can continue the matter. Are you finished?’
Samuel remembered himself and offered the reins to the man.
‘What is your name, young man?’ the tanned fellow asked. The lines and slight wrinkles on his face told Samuel that he must be a genuine and kind man, for his smiles had marked him forever, as scowls and worry often marked others.
‘Samuel, Sir.’
‘Well then, Samuel. I am Lomar,’ he added with a smile as he mounted his horse, ‘and I hope we can speak together again some day.’
Samuel nodded, and Lomar began away, urging his mount towards the front gate, which Kans was holding open impatiently. As he passed through, the lights around Lomar seemed to seethe about him and then they quelled themselves again as he passed out into the street.
When Samuel was next sent into town, he wandered around the markets until, as usually happened, he found Mr Joshua leaning against a wall and waiting for him. Somehow, the man always knew when Samuel was coming.
‘What news, young man?’ Mr Joshua asked.
‘Some nights, the men will sit in a candle-filled room for hours on end, and other nights they chant and shout and move around,’ Samuel said. Mr Joshua looked very interested. ‘It’s all very strange. And last night a man named Lomar came and he leapt around like this!’
Samuel began to re-enact Lomar’s actions, jumping to and fro, but Mr Joshua held up his hands. ‘Stop that!’ he hissed urgently, before slipping back into his usual calm composure. ‘Please, don’t attract attention. You can’t do these things in the open.’
Several passers-by were looking at Samuel curiously. Samuel did not understand, but he nodded dumbly. ‘And this mo
rning,’ he continued, ‘he left in a real hurry.’ Mr Joshua was obviously pleased with the information. ‘And Mr Kelvin is teaching me some geometry.’
‘That’s wonderful, Samuel. Mr Kelvin is a good man to spend his time with you. An education is a valuable thing and knowledge is invaluable. I could have done with better schooling myself. Good work, Samuel. Try to come back within a week and tell me more about all this. It seems you are starting to get to the bottom of things.’
Mr Joshua gave Samuel some more coins before patting him on the back and disappearing into the tides of passing people. Samuel happily wandered towards the markets to finish his chores, jingling his weighty pocket. There was a dress that he knew Jessicah would just love.
The days always seemed fine and sunny at the Burning Oak. Of course, the winters had their share of rain, but Samuel always seemed to be catching himself looking up at the sky—clear and blue or filled with stars. He was never particularly hot or particularly cold and he had every comfort that he imagined he could need.
During one such fine day, Samuel was helping Mr Kelvin in the garden. Mr Kelvin seemed to have more free time than before and was enjoying getting on his hands and knees and doing some of the work himself, taking pride in his small, yet neat gardens all along the walls, and Samuel was happy for the company. He was a terribly nice man and Samuel had never heard an ill word cross his lips. He was always polite and considerate to everyone. He was not as good as Samuel remembered his own father being, and was not as friendly as Mr Joshua was—buying him presents and such—but he was certainly much, much better than Samuel’s uncle. Sometimes, Samuel wished he could have a whole afternoon free to himself so he could go and see Jessicah, or play with the boys in the streets, but Mr Kelvin always said that he was needed too much here and was not allowed to roam about in the town. The guests could need their horses at a moment’s notice and it would not do to keep them waiting. Samuel wondered why Kans could not ready their horses if they needed it. It took Samuel far longer by himself, often having to use the stepladder to fix and buckle all the saddlery. Most often the guests helped him anyway. He began to suspect that Mr Kelvin just did not want him talking to people in the town about the inn. Sometimes, it frustrated Samuel so much that he would tell Mr Joshua every little thing he could think of about the Burning Oak and its guests, even if it was only partly true. Mr Joshua, however, had a way of telling when Samuel was exaggerating, but Samuel was getting better and better at slipping small ‘untruths’ past Mr Joshua without him noticing. They were not big things—just little white lies and the odd exaggeration.
‘It sure is hot today, Mr Kelvin,’ Samuel said, throwing some weeds behind him.
Mr Kelvin wiped his brow with his dark sleeves and peered to the sky. ‘It is,’ he agreed. ‘The sun is very hot today, indeed.’
Samuel plucked several more weeds before pausing and, looking thoughtful, he said, ‘Now I have a good question for you, Mr Kelvin. What exactly is the sun?’
‘To my knowledge, no one has ever touched it to find out, but I suspect that it is a great ball of fire. It casts heat, throws light and is yellow, just like a flame, after all.’
‘If it is a fire, then what does it burn? Are there sticks inside?’
Mr Kelvin laughed. ‘No, Samuel, I think there are not. Or, if there are, they would have to be very big, or very many sticks indeed would be needed, for the sun is many, many times larger than the world on which we live.’
‘It doesn’t look very big,’ Samuel replied.
Mr Kelvin made a tiny gap between his fingers and peered through it at Samuel. ‘Look, Samuel, it appears that your head can fit between my fingers, but of course I know it is not so. The sun is merely very far away.’
‘It’s very high in the sky?’
‘So to speak, yes.’
‘And where does it go at night and where do the stars come from?’
Mr Kelvin chuckled and sighed. ‘It goes below the horizon to light the other lands of the world, where there are different peoples with different languages and cultures. The stars are always there, but they cannot always be seen.’
Samuel gawked up in awe, trying to spy the stars, but his eyes became watery and blurry and he had to look down.
‘Careful, Samuel,’ Mr Kelvin told him. ‘The sun is like truth: bright and beautiful, but dangerous to behold. Still, we all strive for knowledge even when we cannot understand what the answers will bring. It’s better to hold a knife when you face the Devils of Korda,’ he then quoted, but after a moment, he noticed Samuel’s confusion. ‘I’m sorry. I talk too much sometimes, don’t I? Don’t look at the sun, Samuel, or you will go blind,’ he finally explained.
Samuel was complete befuddled. He looked up once more and blinked at the glaring sun, before rubbing his eyes and looking blurrily at the gritty soil below, purple streaks marking his watery vision.
On the occasional night, Samuel still found himself waking up, as if automatically, and so would crawl up onto his stable roof to see what was happening inside the inn. Most often, the men would only be sitting still or walking about slowly and Samuel found himself longing for more men like Lomar, who would jump around and do more exciting things. When he was sure no one was watching, Samuel would close the stable doors and try the same movements that Lomar had made. He could only remember a few and so he made up the rest. He knew they were entirely wrong and foolish, but he had a desire to learn more and this was the closest he could manage. From then on, when he was awoken at night with the tingling in his bones, he would sit up on his bed and assume the same position that the men inside did. He took deep, full breaths and, at times, it felt calming and peaceful and he would often fall asleep in that position.
Lomar returned on occasion and Samuel was always greatly excited when he did. He was the one man who would sit and talk to Samuel, telling him stories of far-off lands and all the mythical fairy tales he had heard. He surprised Samuel by even offering to play a game of kick-ball and they stood opposite each other for hours, sending the ball between them. The other guests glared at Lomar as he did so, but Lomar did not seem to care what the others thought. He also delighted in showing Samuel all his best juggling tricks, making his small red balls vanish and reappear with a twist of his hand, and Samuel enjoyed seeing the tricks just as much, trying every time to discover how it was that Lomar did them. Lomar told of the strange ways and customs of foreign lands, but was ever evasive as to his reasons for travelling and of the other men of the inn. When Samuel’s questions became too direct, Lomar would only smile and look away or make some comment on the bees or flowers.
One fine and warm day, three new guests came to the Burning Oak Inn, two middle-aged men and another absolutely ancient one, all wrinkled and with barely a hair on his head, save his bushy white eyebrows and his wispy old beard. As they arrived, Kans hurriedly fetched out all the men currently staying from inside the inn. There was a great hubbub as Samuel was called to fetch the guests’ wagon from the front entrance and shut the great gates behind it. They all vanished inside as quickly as they had appeared and there was not a trace of anyone that night or the entire next day.
Not one person took their usual garden strolls and Cook said they barely even wanted their meals, calling for light snacks to be brought into the meeting from time to time. The place seemed desolate.
Finally, just before twilight of the next day, Mr Copperpot and Mr Sloan sent word to make ready their mounts, and they soon left, dressed not in their black robes, but instead in normal garments of brown and grey. They looked strange out of their usual garb and it made Samuel wonder what could be happening.
Samuel was awoken much earlier that night than usual, with pins and needles jabbing his whole body like skewers. He almost tripped over himself in his hurry to get onto the roof. He had not woken the previous night, but tonight he felt as if the air was rattling with excitement.
Peeping through the window, Samuel could see the old visitor sitting cross-legged on t
he floor and, one by one, all the candles in the room were igniting. There was no one near them; they each simply burst into flame in succession, as if by some trickery. Samuel was astonished and peered closer to try and spy any sign of someone ducking down and lighting them in secret, but there was none. They truly were lighting of their own accord and Samuel could barely believe it. He watched on with anticipation. If this was only the start, even more amazing things were sure to come. The soft hairs on his arms stood up like bristles.
The old man then began making broad, slow arm gestures and slowly, slowly stood to his feet. He stepped forward and began the same set of actions that Lomar had first performed, although much slower—as if he was in no hurry to complete his exercises before the long night was even through. Instead of jumping and spinning, he very slowly stepped and turned with effortless precision. His arms moved and made circles and arcs in the air; sometimes as if carrying huge objects; sometimes as if doing delicate finger-work. In some moments, it seemed as if he was struggling against great forces, pushing and striving to hold his ground; at other times, it seemed like he was weightless and about to sail up from the floor. With each movement, the old man’s aura blazed and grew like a bonfire in a gale; his every footstep and gesture trailed countless azure ribbons billowing in the wind. Samuel saw at once the many mistakes he had been making on his own and added as many corrections to memory as he could.
Eventually, the old man gathered himself back to his original position sitting on the floor. Samuel could hear the loud, hissing breathing the old man was making, as if each breath was as full and slow and complete as he could possibly manage. The energy around the man grew small again, wrapping tightly around his body and its intensity was astounding, almost blinding, making the old man at the core of the light appear as some form of silhouette by contrast. But all that paled into insignificance compared to what came next. Samuel’s eyes bulged with disbelief and he could not hold back a gasp as several soft balls of light bloomed into existence above the old man’s head. They were not formed from the same substance as the amazing, scintillating aura that surrounded him. They were real, visible lights like those of a lantern that any man or dog could see and they illuminated the room with a mystical, blue-hued glow. They hovered near the old man like curious butterflies, shedding their light all around. This was just like the magic from stories that Samuel had always imagined and he bit on the end of his thumb just to be sure he was not still dreaming.
The Young Magician (The Legacy Trilogy) Page 10