by Joseph Bonis
Tracy smiled with a faint wonder at the small spell. Her lips barely moved as she quietly murmured, “Does it carry my voice back to you, or do I need to make my own whisper wind?”
Hans laughed, then whispered, “If it did not, I could not answer you!” He became more serious, then. “Things you must know about this … I will help you. I have been doing this for many years, far longer than your Jacob. He can teach you good things, but I can teach you other things … Would you learn from me, as well?”
Tracy nodded. “Hans, you are my friend. I would be honored if I could learn from you as well.”
Hans considered. “I cannot teach all things to you in one night, or else this night would last a month. Two things, then, I have to say to you today. First, this is something most people do not know. It does not come up often. You once ask me, why do I use aluminum for pots, and not cast iron for pots?”
“You said it didn't agree with you,” Tracy remembered. “I joked that you were fae.”
Hans shrugged. “It does not agree with me and does not agree with you, for similar reasons. Your wind, it will not go through a cast iron fence. It is … I do not know the word. It is bad for your abilities.”
Tracy let out a soft 'ah' of understanding. “You're talking about the classic myth … or perhaps not myth … about how cold iron can be used against magic.”
“Not all magic,” replied Hans. “Just your kind and my kind.”
A frown crossed Tracy's face as she considered that. Did he mean other elements weren't proof against it, or … “Do you mean there's other types of magic than this charm magic?”
A crinkled smile crossed Hans' face. “There are many magics in this world, and not all are magic,” he said playfully. “There are magics of art and music. Words have magic. You know these things, but they are hidden among people who use them without magic. These are the magics to change hearts and minds. There is magic to a smile, or a scowl, and these are magics to heal or hurt spirit. There are dark magics to avoid, which are powerful and take your soul. There are bright magics which are uncertain and rare, but come when they are needed most.”
“Concern yourself for now, though, with your magic,” Hans assured her. “Things are happening quickly, and you are friend. Be careful.”
Tracy grimaced. “I was getting that impression. I seem to have walked in on the edge of something secret and dangerous. Don't worry, I'll walk lightly, and learn quickly.”
“Then I tell you second thing, now. I want you to be careful about your mind,” said Hans.
Tracy furrowed her brows in confusion. “I don't understand.”
Hans worked over the words. “You are good at things, this is good, yes, but everyone is good at things. Do not think you are special.”
“What?” asked Tracy, even more confused. “Could you explain that a little more?”
Hans sighed. “You will find that you use magic very easy. Like it is natural for you. This is normal, not because you are special. Do not think you are special for it. There will be ways in which you will not learn easy, but others do. The reason you do things naturally is because the magic is from you. The … the … the weather, of your mark, the water and air - it is from your spirit, so you do things with it, and the other magic, as if you were raising your hand.”
Tracy started to respond, but Hans held up his hand to forestall her. “When people raise their hand to do a thing, they do not do the same thing. Do not get overconfident, and do not get upset if there are things that are difficult. You will have to study hard to catch up quickly. Only one person I have seen uses all magic as it is natural, and he is unusual.”
“Oh?” Tracy asked, pondering a moment. “Do you mean Jacob?”
A laugh pulled itself from Hans. “No! Definitely not. He learns well, but he finds many things hard. I mean of Lord Brin. It is his nature, it is his mark.”
Tracy was about to ask a question, but Hans cut her off. “The others, they are readying to finish their dinner quickly. They do not like each other's company. We can talk later, yes?”
Tracy nodded. Hans leaned forward, though his whisper-wind spell made it unnecessary. “And one more thing, I just think of. You get in big fights very fast. You are close to center of what is going on, not edge. If you lose mark of your spirit to a Lord, the weather mark, then go to Lord Brin. He will get it back for you, but from you he will take a year's service, and change you life. Be afraid of Lord Brin, but be afraid of other Lords more.”
Chapter 9: Newness
Tracy stopped to think about that for a few minutes. Jacob had warned her that working for Lord Brin would mean giving up her life - and now Hans had warned her the same. She knew they didn't mean that she would die, but rather, they meant that she would have to give up everything important to her. Her friends, her job, her history … her freedom. Would that really be worth getting her heart's charm back?
What had Jacob said about losing it? A dull ache, a mental pressure, a constant draw. Missing part of yourself. How long would she be able to take that before she would have to go looking to get it back? How much would she pay from her life? Would it be like a junkie going through withdrawal that never ended?
“Hans!” cried Lord Pax from right behind her, “Magnificent meal, as always!” He put down a hundred dollar bill on the table. “Keep the change, it's worth every cent!”
Hans smiled politely and took the bill. “Thank you, m'lord, you are too generous.”
“Not at all,” Lord Pax declared, as loudly as before. Tracy cringed as everyone looked over at them, curious about the disruption. Lord Pax, on the other hand, seemed to thrive off the attention. “An artist like you needs every encouragement. I should buy you a new place, a bigger place! This city could use a more interesting high-life!”
Hans gave a small bow, but demurred, “Thank you, m'lord, but I am quite happy in this place. It has many memories for me. And besides,” he straightened up and gave a small grin to Tracy, “I already have a patron.”
Tracy blinked and frowned in confusion, a confusion that Lord Pax saw when he glanced at her to see what Hans was talking about. She had no idea, but smiled urbanely all the same. It wasn't until he turned away that she realized - was Hans talking about Sing?
“Ah, your choice, of course, Hans. But you can do a lot better than this place,” Lord Pax assured him. “Just think, with a bigger place, a little more open, you could get a better clientele. Bring in some more chefs, train them in your better recipes, perhaps get a more regular menu …”
“Become just like all those other restaurants that he laments aren't more like you …” Tracy interjected dryly.
Lord Pax smiled without humor at Tracy. “Ha ha,” he drawled, “Very droll.” Turning back to Hans, he gave a small bow. “Good day. Perhaps we can talk about this another time when we won't be interrupted.” He turned and swept dramatically from the counter, stalking up the aisle and collecting his two men before walking out the door.
Tracy let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.
Lord Brin slipped into a stool two down from Tracy, smiling to Hans, leaning forward across the counter so that he could talk quietly with the eccentric chef. Tracy wasn't sure if it was just that he was close enough, or if Hans' Whisperwind was catching Brin's voice, but Tracy could just make out his words. “Put the other two tables on my account, would you, Hans?”
Hans nodded. “Of course. Thank you, m'lord.”
Lord Brin moved to a closer stool so that he was sitting next to Tracy. “Tracy! How are you doing?”
Tracy looked at him a little apprehensively, a little confused. No matter his title, he was basically a king, and she was pretty much the least of his peasants. “I'm … getting by,” she said, cautiously.
He nodded. “Good, good. It can be an awful mess the first few weeks, trying to figure this stuff out.”
“Especially,” Tracy continued, “If you have to lose the rest of your life at the same time.”
Lord Brin laughed. “I'm not sure. Trying to juggle all the aspects of an old life and a new life can be worse - at least, that's what I've found in the past. There are other reasons for that as well, though.” He paused. “Do you think you'll be able to handle it?”
Tracy nodded. “I don't see why not. Having new skills and abilities doesn't mean you can't keep doing the old stuff you used to do.”
He shrugged. “True, we don't have the random fights starting up like we used to, but you may find that having more opportunity open to you, more power, starts changing your perspective on things.”
Tracy felt a bit of a chill as she pondered that. Hans had also just been warning her about getting too full of herself. “Power corrupts, you mean?”
Lord Brin got a bit of a pained expression on his face. “Well, that's one way it could happen, yes. But there's other possibilities, too. Some folks were … changed … when they were in fast-food jobs. If you can do the things we can do, if you had a world of opportunity before you, would you be satisfied doing that? And as far as friends go … sharing our secrets with friends is always iffy. Sometimes they think we're lying, sometimes they freak out. Keeping this a secret from friends creates a gulf. Some people can manage it … they straddle the two worlds, or only touch lightly on the world of magic. Other people find they have to dive into our new world and abandon the old one, because they can't handle living two lives.”
Tracy sighed and frowned. She hadn't thought of that. She'd like to think that having power wouldn't change her, that she'd be able to handle it, but … how well does anyone really know themselves? And not all change is bad. “Thank you for the warning,” she said, and let out a soft sigh. Then she blinked and looked up at him, realizing again who it was she was talking to. Her eyes narrowed. “Whyyyy … are you showing such an interest in me?”
Lord Brin laughed. “Well, partly, you're different. We don't get many free newbies. Newbies are the hottest source of unattached runes that we have. The system we have set up, where a newbie either is brought in for a year's service, or you take their rune before it binds to them, pretty much keeps down our population. Admittedly, we have more now than we used to - there hasn't been nearly as many deaths. Nonetheless, very few of those new to the power manage to keep their rune and their freedom long enough to register. Only one or two a year.”
“So,” Tracy asked, curious, “You don't want there to be more of us?”
“We're a chaotic bunch,” said Lord Brin. “It's hard enough keeping tabs on us as it is.”
“Is that why you were the arbiter in that discussion back there? Because you like to keep things in control?”
Lord Brin shook his head. “No, just that the arbiter has to be able to enforce the peace of the discussions. When a lord's involved, I'm the only one who can.”
Tracy grinned. “So what happens if someone has a problem with you, and we need an arbiter?”
With an amused smirk, Lord Brin said, “I don't think it works that way, but if you did, I suppose you'd just tap Hans here as arbiter.”
“What?” Tracy exclaimed, surprised. She looked at her old friend. “You're that powerful?” she asked him. Hans looked a little abashed, though he threw a glower at Lord Brin.
“No, no,” said Lord Brin. “This place is Sanctuary, so Hans has more power here than I do.”
Tracy stared in confusion, trying to figure out which of the many questions that were running through her mind to ask first.
Lord Brin smiled. “Some time before me, there was a huge clash happening between several of the factions of the time. Hans, through diplomacy, managed to get everyone to sit down and talk it out. When all was said and done, the king or emperor or high lord or whatever he was calling himself-”
“His Majesty Franklin the First,” supplied Hans helpfully.
“Right,” nodded Lord Brin. “The one Lord Tetran assassinated. Wasn't he the one who tried to treat the whole thing like some sort of video game?”
Hans nodded. “He did run game store before to be king,” he supplied.
“No kidding?” exclaimed Lord Brin. “I didn't know that! Makes sense, I guess. You can never tell who'll be good at this sort of thing. Anyway, where was I?”
“Hans got everyone to talk it out,” Tracy prompted.
“Right! Anyway, so King Franklin went ahead and made Schrödinger's a sanctuary, a haven. And this isn't just some political thing, politely recognized. In a sanctuary, you can't use the runes upon someone else without the active permission of the one you're using them upon.”
Tracy objected to this. “Wait! Wait, wait, wait. I've been open to many things. There's a lot of rules and patterns to these charms. I can almost accept most of these happening naturally. You have to keep your heart's charm or else it pulls at you - I can accept that. It's plain that a desire for power leads to battles, though it's awfully convenient that magic is condensed to such neat and tidy packages as the charms. It's almost too convenient that the magic of the charms holds you to your word, but I can kinda buy that. It makes a sort of sense. And the fact that any conflict automatically causes you to lose a rune - I can even accept that. It's a lot of the basic concepts you find in typical mythic folklore, condensed into practical application.”
She took a deep breath. “But the concept that some arbitrary ruler with no special charm of leadership can declare a place 'sanctuary' and it's accepted and enforced by the powers of the galaxy even after he's gone? That's just a bit much.”
Lord Brin laughed heartily. “Well, you've struck upon quite a bit of philosophy there - we're not sure how everything happens. But Sanctuary itself, it's pretty much known that this is maintained by the Rune of Peace.”
“Peace?” Tracy asked, bewildered. “There's a Peace Charm? Er… Rune?”
“And it's suspected,” Hans said, “not known.”
Lord Brin laughed again and gave a half-nod to Hans in recognition of the correction. “Hard to keep terms straight, eh? I know the feeling. Yes, there's a Peace Rune. Just one. See, there's a few very powerful, unique runes. Most of the rules you can see, there are stories that there's a Rune of Conflict that maintains them. Where that might be, we don't know, but there's stories of it showing up at times in the past, wielded by different people. The Peace Rune, though, is widely suspected to be held by the Dali Lama, who enforces the law of sanctuary.”
Tracy stared in frank amazement, an amazement not helped at all by the amused smirk on Lord Brin's face. “The Dali Lama?” she asked, finally.
Lord Brin nodded. “No runes work at all within a hundred-mile radius of the Dali Lama, and the reborn Dali Lama is always known because he bears the Rune of Peace.”
Tracy thought about this for a little bit, then gave it up. “That's just too much,” she said, shaking her head. “Too big. I have to focus on getting ready.”
With a laugh, Lord Brin gave a little bow. “Sure thing.”
Tracy nodded politely to Hans. “Hans, talk to you later,” then to Lord Brin. “M'lord.” They murmured polite responses as she turned and walked away. As they stepped out into the afternoon sunlight, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, breathing out a mass of stress and worry.
Jacob fell in beside her. “Tracy,” he said brightly.
“Jacob,” she replied, a little more tired. “Hey, don't take this the wrong way, but I was just going to-”
“Nope,” he cut her off, his hand gesturing across his chest in a slashing motion. “Unless your next words are 'practice combat techniques,' you're wrong.”
Tracy sighed, but she saw where he was going with this. Only a week to get ready to face a Lord in combat, even if he was brought down to her level. She took a moment standing there in the sun, her eyes closed, counting to ten to keep back all the annoyed responses that came to mind. “All right,” she sighed. “Where can we practice?”
Jacob grinned and gestured to a bike parked not too far away. “One of the arenas, of course. This time, I'll drive.”
>
Tracy looked nervously at the bike, a large black and silver bike with a Harley-Davidson logo on the side. It was built more like the Japanese bikes she'd seen, with a high seat and a low set of handlebars. Racing bike, she supposed, rather than the cruising bikes she usually thought of as Harleys. Then she looked down at her own long skirts. “Ummmm,” she murmured uncertainly.
Jacob followed her gaze, where she was brushing over her nice go-to-church outfit, and he laughed. “Obviously you need to stop off at home to get some practice clothes, first,” he agreed.
They walked quietly back to the apartment together, Jacob walking his bike along the sidewalk. Tracy had too much on her mind, from the things the pastor had said, to the things she'd learned at Schrödinger's, and thinking back to what Grandmaster Lee had said yesterday. What sort of thing was she, now? What were the new rules of her life? Well, that's why she had a month to prepare, she supposed. And finally, what should she wear? Should she wear her Aikido practice clothes? It made sense to wear practice clothes to combat practice, but this wasn't Aikido, so it wouldn't feel right. Jeans, she determined. Jeans would have to do.
When she emerged from her room wearing snug jeans and a loose green flannel button-up shirt, Jacob's eyes crinkled a little in humor and delight. “Nice!” he exclaimed. “I wasn't sure you actually had pants, I've never seen you in anything but long skirts. If you're going to ride with me more, though, you need a good heavy jacket and gloves.”
Tracy smirked. “You've seen me three times, in four different outfits. You don't get to make those sorts of jokes.”
Jacob raised an eyebrow, looking her over. “And when's the last time you wore pants, then?” he challenged.
Pulling a face, Tracy replied, “Every day at work. There's a uniform.”
Laughing and shaking his head, Jacob objected, “When you had a choice.”
Tracy sighed. “Then it's been … oh … probably a month or more.”
“I rest my case,” he said, keeping the crowing to a minimum in his voice.