Path of Honor

by Diana Pharaoh Francis

  Saljane fluttered to the sill and then leaped out, sinking in a long glide and then flapping her wings strongly to climb the wind. Reisil shivered and pulled the window closed, wrapping herself in a red velvet robe before opening her door.

  “Sorry to disturb you, Kvepi,” the maid said. Reisil flinched at the title. But they all had begun calling her Kvepi, and nothing she could say would change their minds. She was a wizard after all, they said, politely obdurate. “I’ve come to fill your tub before breakfast.”

  Reisil swung the door wide, and the woman went quietly into the boudoir. There was a sound of running water. More magic. The wizards had all contributed equally to the comforts of the building. Hot and cold running water, lights without candles or oil, dinner knives that never needed sharpening, wineglasses that would not break.

  When the maid departed, Reisil peeled off her robe and shift and padded into the boudoir, loosening her braid and letting her hair flow down her back. The tub was made of moss-green stone, four feet deep with a wide seat running along two sides. She eased into the warmth. Content with the temperature, she touched a pink beryl inset into the stone along the top edge of the tub. It would maintain the water’s temperature until she was done. Never before had she enjoyed such luxury. It was like having a private hot spring inside her bedroom.

  An hour passed before Reisil could convince herself to leave the tub. She dried herself and combed her hair, then went to her wardrobe. Inside hung several black robes, plain except for the silvery embroidery around the cuffs. The pattern was intricate and artful, showing a goshawk in dancing flight, diving, swooping, gliding. Leaves and stars whirled on an invisible wind in between. They were so beautiful, Reisil couldn’t resist them, ignoring her old clothes piled at the bottom of the cabinet. Besides, wearing the robes would make them believe she was succumbing to their blandishments. Her own clothes would still be waiting when it was time to leave.

  She dressed quickly and went to the window, leaning out to peer up into the sky.

  ~Where are you?

  ~Here.

  And high up Reisil could see a speck of black. Saljane plummeted toward the window, catching herself above the level of the sill with a pop as she flung her wings wide. Reisil reached out her fist, and Saljane settled onto it.

  Smugness. Satiety. Mischief.

  She flung herself off Reisil’s hand and winged through the suite, twisting sharply around the furniture and pouncing in the middle of the bed.

  Reisil laughed.

  ~Full of yourself, aren’t you?

  ~Hare ran very fast. I flew faster.

  Now she began to preen herself, ignoring Reisil, who laughed again.

  ~Well, it’s time for my breakfast. Are you coming?

  There was a flash of exuberance, and Saljane waddled to the edge of the bed, wings raised high, waiting for Reisil to lift her up.

  “Of course, Your High and Mightiness,” Reisil said with a grin as Saljane gripped her fist. She transferred the goshawk to her shoulder, wincing as Saljane’s talons grasped the cloth of the robe. But the robe was impervious, and despite Saljane’s fidgeting into place, not a single hole appeared in the material.

  “Handy, that,” Reisil said.

  Kvepi Kaisivas met them for breakfast, ushering them into a solar. Reisil set Saljane on a waiting perch and sat down.

  The Kvepi watched her a moment, a smile turning his lips. “You look lovely.”

  Reisil flushed. “Thank you.”

  “I waited for you this morning because I wanted to discuss something with you,” he began.

  Reisil set her cup down, her heart beating faster.

  “You want us to teach you how to use your magic, and we are pleased to do so. But I must make you aware of a problem before you can begin. When Kvepi Mastone and the others summoned Pahe Kurjus—the Demonlord—to the mortal plane, what He discovered distressed Him. He ordered that the Guild should be cleansed. Chollai took this to mean the banishment of those of the Nethieche branch of the guild. In particular, those of us who had participated in the plot against the Karalis.

  “It was a fair decision, and I cannot object to it.” He lifted his hands in the air. “I would have done the same in his position. One simply does not disobey Pahe Kurjus. But the Demonlord was not done. Banishment was not enough. He changed our magic. You know what we were. You are what we were. But no longer.

  “Now our magic is greatly diminished. Only the spilling of our own heart’s blood unlocks it. Any sacrifice we make not of our own bodies is useless. Greater spells may be accomplished if many wizards contribute blood to a spell, but this is exhausting and difficult to balance correctly. We have been able to store magic in vessels and artifacts. Over the course of time, you understand.” He pulled back his sleeve and Reisil saw the hashmarks of old and new scars. “And we may draw on each other’s stored magics, which enables us to make this building comfortable, for example. Additionally, with the retirement of your Lady from Kodu Riik, we have discovered many sources of ancient magic that in time we will learn to harness.”

  At this last, Reisil felt a wash of fear. “Why do you tell me all this?”

  “Because it will make teaching you difficult. We won’t be able to show you what to do as we would have before. We will instruct you, but it is not the same, and you may find it frustrating. I would not have you think we withold our knowledge from you. I know you find it difficult to believe that we would include you so freely. I have asked Kvepi Debess to be your teacher. I think he will suit you well.” He paused, a pained look on his face.

  “What?” Reisil asked.

  “Please be certain that this is merely a recommendation and you may, of course, decide otherwise. But the workshops in the caves are unlit. Wizards have no need of light, and it serves as an added protection against intruders. But it would make your goshawk quite uncomfortable. I think she may prefer not to accompany you inside.”

  Reisil nodded. It didn’t matter. Saljane could watch through her eyes and never enter the caves. She noted too that he never referred to either her or Saljane as ahalad-kaaslane . No one in the stronghold did. They perceived Saljane as her companion, even a pet, but never conceded that either of them were anything else. If she was, then she couldn’t be a wizard.

  Kvepi Debess proved to be a gruff man in his fifties. He had gray hair streaked with white and a thick beard brushed silky smooth. His cheeks were ruddy, his gray eyes quick and sharp. He was shorter than Reisil by several inches and built like a barrel. His fingers were stained with ink, and there was a red rime circling his fingernails. A glimpse of his arms revealed a broad slice across his left wrist.

  “Come along, then. Don’t dawdle. I haven’t so much time as that, young miss.”

  He hurried up the gravel path ahead of Reisil, his robe swinging around bare ankles, his feet clad in sandals. He dived into a cave. Reisil paused long enough to toss Saljane into the air before following him inside. She ran to catch up, matching his quick pace.

  “So, tell me about yourself. What have you done? What can you do? Don’t want to go through the basic nonsense if you don’t need it, but I expect you have gaping holes in your understanding of magic, and you can’t just ignore them. They’ll rise up against you the first thing you turn your back, and you’ll find yourself visiting Pahe Kurjus in His own dark pits.”

  “I—” Reisil began and then stopped, searching for words.

  “Come, come. Out with it.” His words echoed in the cave.

  “I’ve killed with it. Burned really. Several times. And I have healed with it—fevers, bones, but not the plague.”

  “Killing’s easy enough. Blast of power, though you’ve got to find the power to make the blast, which can be tough enough. I heard about what happened back in Patverseme. A good blast that. Healing, though, that takes some control. Have any accidents in that direction? Healings that got out of hand?”

  “No.” The thought made her cringe. She’d never thought about what should happen
if she lost control during a healing.

  “That’s good news. Unusual too. Surprised you didn’t leave a tangle of bones and muscle once or twice. This way.” He directed her into a side shaft that led gently upward.

  “But that’s the problem,” Reisil explained. “I don’t control it really. When I heal, it just sort of happens, and I mostly can’t call up my power unless I’m angry.”

  “Perfectly normal. Need some principles. Come now, in here.”

  And he directed her through an archway and into a large room full of a jumble of tables with odd materials stacked on top and underneath, as well as in corners and on shelves. Several doors led out of the room on the other side. Kvepi Debess went to one of these and pushed it open. Inside was a plain room containing a small, square table and a single chair.

  “We’ll start in here. Grab that chair there and bring it.”

  Reisil picked up the indicated chair and carried it inside. The Kvepi had set a chunk of milky quartz the size of her two fists in the center of the table.

  “Right. Now I’ll just set the wards. Don’t want to blow up the mountain if we can help it.” He shut the door and ran his hands over it, chanting softly. There was a brilliant flare of green light, and for a moment the walls came alive with symbols and patterns. After a moment, they faded into dull rock again. “That should do the trick.” He lowered bristly brows at her. “Hope it’s enough. The rest of ’em spent the last week reinforcing the wards, but what we can do is limited these days, and you’re powerful.”

  Reisil glanced quickly at him, wondering if there was a double meaning to his last words. But he merely sat down, motioning for her to do the same.

  “We’re going to start with this.” He touched the chunk of quartz. “You’re going to learn to channel your power into the quartz. That way when you lose control later, you’ll know what to do with the excess. One word of warning: I know what that bird is, and I’m telling you right now, she’s got no part in the learning. You must do this yourself, without help. Later she will add to what you can do, but for now, you don’t borrow strength from her. Do you understand?”

  Reisil nodded. So the Kvepis couldn’t entirely forget she was ahalad-kaaslane.

  “But before we involve your magic, we’re going to review how magic works and where it comes from. Listen carefully. I will quiz you as we go. You cannot go further until you understand this perfectly.”

  The hours reeled away, and Reisil hardly noticed. Kvepi Debess spoke quickly, but clearly and methodically. He never lost patience with her, and by the end of that day, she’d learned to find her power without the crutch of anger.

  “It’s like a river flowing through your deepest center. The calmer you are, the deeper. And even though it rises higher when you are angry, it loses potency. In many ways you are lucky you have not been able to reach it with calm deliberation, or you might have incinerated yourself. To peform to your highest ability, you must be able to summon the power without fear or anger or frustration, or whatever else happens to be driving you.”

  What proved most difficult was summoning only what she wanted.

  “That’s too big a hammer for the nail,” Kvepi Debess said for the fifth time. “You don’t want to divert your river out of its bed, you want to borrow a little stream. Enough but not too much.”

  At the end of the day, Reisil was exhausted but exuberant. She’d managed at last to summon her power, drawing only what she wanted.

  “Tomorrow we’ll actually do a bit of work with it. Small things. Basic skills work. You’re quick, though, and it won’t be long until you can do much more. Now get on with you. I’ve a thing or two to get done. Supper’s waiting. Take your time in the morning. I won’t want you too early.”

  That night Reisil ate ravenously, pattering enthusiastically to Kvepi Kaisivas. Hope and pride danced in her blood.

  The rest of the week passed in similar sessions. Each day Kvepi Debess closed the wards, and Reisil learned to move objects, to light candles with a thread of power, to burn designs on a slab of wood. The power of the quartz stone continued to grow as she channeled excess energy into it. The stone itself had begun to glitter with an inner core of energy, its pink and yellow seams like dark veins against the milky flesh of the rock.

  By the end of the second week, her third in the stronghold, Reisil had become proficient enough to begin creating her own spells.

  “You understand that ordinary apprentice work lasts years?” Kvepi Debess said sourly one morning, drinking from a pot of kohv. His eyes were bloodshot, and there were fresh wounds on his arms. Dark circles framed his gray eyes. “Well, nothing for it. You’re further along than that, and you have already performed larger works of magic. You have an instinct for it, and with principles, you shouldn’t do more than light your hair on fire or burn your clothes off.”

  Reisil smiled uncertainly, not sure he was joking.

  “You’re ready for the apprentice test. May as well start there and move you through journeyman levels as seems fitting. For your first part of the test, take this iron bar. I want you to remake it into a filigree like this.” He produced an intricate drawing, the pattern fine as a thread in some places, the surface etched with still smaller designs. “You use too much magic, and the bar will melt and you have to begin again. The entire work must be done with utmost control.”

  And then he left her in the warded workroom. Reisil began slowly, resting herself every time fatigue started to fog her control. Still, the delicate work took her far into the night. By the time she was through, her underclothing was drenched and her hair was matted to her head. Kvepi Debess examined her work with a critical eye, nodding finally. “Not the most artistic representation, but it’ll do. Now off to bed with you. Be here at first light.” At Reisil’s pained look, he grinned remorselessly. “Part of the testing. Lucky you finished before light or there’d be no sleep for you at all.”

  Reisil began the next day bleary-eyed and tense. Her heart raced, and she could hardly hold down her breakfast.

  “All right, then. Today it gets a bit harder. You’ve shown you can maintain fine control; now you’re going to show how you do with varied controls and distractions.”

  Kvepi Debess led her away from his laboratory, through a maze of tunnels until they arrived at a spacious room cut into the rock. A group of twenty or thirty Kvepis were gathered, their robes sparkling in the lights. As he closed the doors, Kvepi Debess activated the wards. The room flared with rainbow light, and then it subsided.

  “Fairly simple. We’re going to throw things at you, and you’re going to catch them and put them in bins over there.” He pointed to rows of boxes, some large enough to hold three horses, against the far wall. “Points off for dropping anything, or worse, for destroying it.”

  With that, Reisil was thrust into the middle of the room. She didn’t know how long she remained there. The first objects were small. Mugs and glasses, plates and jars. Then came stones ranging from pebbles to boulders. There were dressers and wardrobes, a horse trough, an anvil, a flurry of eggs, a tree trunk. More than she could remember. At first they came one at a time, then as she caught these easily, two and three and four until she could hardly breathe. Her magic fought her. She grew more tired and tense, the objects coming faster and more of them. She hardly dared blink lest she miss something. Desperately she whipped out tendrils of power, no longer able to see what was coming. Grayness closed around her vision, and her legs trembled. She could smell her fear, acrid and sour. Sweat rolled down her skin, and her clothing clung clammily.

  Still she fought to keep her controls. The room was warded, but only against escaping power. What would happen to the Kvepis inside if she let her power erupt? Ash. She remembered the bodies on the bluff. The burnt-out husks in Patverseme. The deep scar on the land where they’d taken Saljane. She felt her fingers blister, the heat crawling up her arms. She began to smell smoke, burning hair. Her own.

  “Enough.”

  It was Kvepi
Debess. He came forward, examining her from head to foot.

  “Refused to give in, did you? And would have let yourself burn up too. It’s a lesson well learned. You can only swim in that river for so long before it eats you alive. What say you?” he said to the gathered Kvepi. “Need we the final test, or has she done both in one?” There was a murmuring, not unfriendly. Reisil blinked, seeing only a mass of blurry movement. “So be it. You passed the second test superbly. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen any other last so long. And the final test would have been to see how much power you could restrain and for how long. But again, you’ve outdone our expectations. Most apprentices fold far before they begin to burn.” He lifted her arm at the elbow to examine her hands. They were red and raw and covered with weeping, white blisters.

  “I didn’t know what would happen to you if I let go. We left the quartz,” she mumbled through dry, swollen lips. Kvepi Debess stared at her a long moment and then threw back his head in a long, ringing laugh. It went on and Reisil swayed, baffled. Finally he caught himself, gasping and sniffing.

  “Ah, my young friend. Sometimes I forget what you do not know—you seem so far advanced. We have the power to shield ourselves, and each and every one of us has become adept at capturing loose magic and storing it away.” He patted her shoulder. “Still, I expect you would have lasted equally as long with such knowledge. Your power would not have gotten the best of you without such worries and fears. Congratulations. The day after tomorrow we begin again with the next stage of your training. Go, get some rest. Eat. We’ll send Uldegas along to treat your burns.”

  Reisil turned away, stumbling as she went to the door. Then Kvepi Debess’s voice called her back.

  “Be proud of what you’ve accomplished today, Reisil. I am certainly proud of you. Would that I could claim more responsibility.”

  At his words, a flower of pleasure bloomed in her chest, and neither the pain of her burns nor her exhaustion could smother it. She smiled wide.

  Chapter 38