by Alex C Vick
“Volo…” she said, then sighed. I wish…
We talked for ages. Our conversation was slow and careful because my vocabulary was nowhere near as good as hers. She had been learning the language of Roma since her capture years before.
Occasionally she would speak more quickly, excited about something, and I would have to shake my head. Other times it would be me who broke into my own language, frustrated that I couldn’t explain myself properly.
She said she had sensed my force field that first day, like my Sygnus this night. She tried to explain it, saying it was like putting her hand from shade into the sunlight. A change in energy. Welcoming somehow.
I was delighted to learn that her views about magic were similar to mine. As a slave, she was not able to use spells without the express permission of her mistress. I had seen nothing of her ability.
“Amo praecantatio nova.” She grinned. I love new magic. Unusual magic. Extraordinary magic.
She feared her skills were reducing through lack of practice. I taught her some basic Androvan spells, and she learned very fast.
There was something about the way her force field and mine worked together. It was a connection that reminded me of what I had felt at my Sygnus adoption.
I forgot all about my obsession with her beauty. I was just enjoying her company.
She traced my Sygnus lightly with her fingers. Then she fetched a wooden tablet from the triclinium nearby. She mimed writing on it, checking whether I could remove whatever marks she made. I nodded.
Carefully she drew a symbol with seven pointed shapes extending from it. The design eventually looped back on itself, with a circle in its centre.
“Brixtia,” she said. “Brigos brixtia.”
“Non intellego,” I replied.
I had never heard those words before. They didn’t sound very Roman.
She frowned, unable to tell me exactly what the words meant. She said it was a symbol from Gaul, her land. Now I understood her dark eyes and naturally pale skin, so unusual in Roma. She was from a different part of Terra.
Her mother had hung a copy of that symbol around her neck when she first became a magician. It had been taken from her when she was captured.
“Melior est,” she added, pointing to the Sygnus. Better.
Then she said her symbol also represented connections between worlds. I think my mouth must have fallen open, because she giggled, putting her fingers against my lower lip.
I held my breath. I had to concentrate very hard to stop myself from kissing her fingers.
“Quid nomen tibi est?” she said, lowering her hand. What is your name?
I exhaled a short gasp of laughter.
Of course. I haven’t even managed to introduce myself.
“Galen. Mihi nomen est Galen.”
She nodded. “Galen,” she repeated.
Then she kissed me.
There were no Spring Festival fireworks behind me this time, but I didn’t need them. My force field lit up like it was connected to the sun.
After a few seconds of disbelief, I kissed her back. The garden disappeared. There was only Claudia. I closed my eyes and kissed her like this was my one and only chance to do it.
When we broke away, she looked as dazed as I felt. We were both surrounded with magical energy.
So this is what everyone was talking about.
Then she seemed to recover herself and glared at me, demanding to know what strange spell I had used. I shook my head. No, I protested, there was no spell.
“Iterum.” Again.
I was not about to complain. I felt like I’d just discovered magic for the first time.
Eventually I forced myself to stop, realising the sky was getting a little brighter. The household would be waking up soon, and I had yet to make any kind of plan for what came next.
She held my face between her hands, and it felt like my heart was aching. Happiness, fear, and longing all swirled together.
“Domum ire debeo,” I said regretfully. I must go home. I had obtained permission to stay away overnight, but I’d be expected to return on time and make a full report.
I asked her if she could show me some Terran magic I hadn’t seen before. I could hardly give the Foundation a true account of how I’d spent the night.
I smiled as I imagined writing a new chapter in my book entitled “Five different ways to kiss a Terran girl.”
No, make that ten . I smiled more widely.
Smiling back, Claudia turned to the triclinium and picked up another writing tablet. There were two signatures at the bottom. And they were glowing silver with magical energy.
“Signum subscriptio,” she said, pointing.
Subscriptio must be signature. And the other word is… label, picture? No, symbol. Like the necklace she lost. Signature symbol.
Before I realised what she was doing, Claudia was holding my hand above them. I felt the buzz of a spell travelling up my arm, and I tried to pull it back.
Suddenly I was thrown into a vision of the moment the symbols had been created. A living, breathing vision.
Julia Felix was sitting across from a man, the remains of a meal between them. The sun was hot, and the scent of wine and cheese was heavy in the air.
I knew him as one of the traders who supplied the household. He must have brought a delivery, if the pile of silks next to Julia was anything to go by.
I even felt a breeze from the garden lift the hair off my forehead before the scene abruptly disappeared.
I blinked. Claudia explained it was the new fashionable way to make contracts. The parties created a spell of some kind, usually a manipulation of the writing stylus used to carve their name in the wood.
Then, the residue of energy left behind by the fading spell was extracted and joined to the signature.
I was quite impressed. I knew there was often trouble enforcing agreements, especially in the towns and cities more distant from Roma’s centre. This simple solution neatly removed the need for any debate.
Yes, I told her, this was perfect. Exactly what I needed to justify my long absence. We kissed again, and I wished I could turn the clock back to give us more time. Dawn was visible in the sky, and Claudia would need to start her work in the kitchen.
Before I left, I made her a Portal Remedy. I knew she would be exhausted, and, unlike me, she would not be able to catch up on her sleep during the day.
Her fellow slave, Melita, entered the kitchen just as I was adding the last drop of magic to the liquid. Fortunately for me, she was yawning and rubbing her eyes. By the time she’d opened them properly, my Invisibility Spell was in place.
She stared at the remedy suspiciously, and I suddenly realised I was still holding it. Hastily, I pushed it into Claudia’s hands, and Melita’s eyes widened.
I struggled not to laugh at her expression. Claudia glared in my general direction and said something about house gods making trouble. She began her work, leaving Melita no choice but to join in.
Claudia added that she would be keeping a close lookout from now on.
“Nocte maxime,” she added pointedly. Especially at night. Her mouth curved up in a small smile.
“Nocte semper,” I whispered in her ear as I left. Always at night.
I walked slowly to my portal, happy, tired, and slightly amazed at how much my life had changed in just one night. Twice I took the wrong street and had to retrace my steps.
I got back to the Foundation just as Nico was arriving for the day.
“What is it?” he said when I looked at him without speaking. “Did she turn you down?”
“I…”
For some reason, I hesitated. I had finally told Nico about Claudia a few days before. On my way back, I had expected I would launch straight into my story when I saw him. I didn’t know what was stopping me.
I could tell him another time, I thought. When I’d had the chance to get things straight in my head.
“I didn’t speak to her in the end,” I sai
d, shrugging.
“Then why were you gone all night?” he asked reasonably, folding his arms.
“I lost my nerve,” I said, lowering my gaze. “And then I had to find a new spell to bring back, remember? It took me ages.”
He laughed.
“If only the girls at the Seminary could see you now,” he said. “They might feel a little better to know the object of their affection suffers the same pangs of unrequited love himself.”
I rolled my eyes.
“It’s not love,” I protested, thinking that actually, it might be. But it was too scary to contemplate, so I pushed the thought away.
“Love’s not all it’s cracked up to be at any rate,” he added with a scowl. “Sure, it starts out wonderful, but that only makes it worse when it turns to dirt in your hands. And you can’t wash it off.”
“Hey,” I said, concerned. “What’s the matter?”
“Oh, nothing. I’m fine. Just don’t pin your hopes on true love, that’s all.”
He began to prepare for his day’s research, turning away from me. His words had the opposite effect to what he intended. I was going to figure out a way for me and Claudia to be together if it was the last thing I did.
I made some hasty notes for the senior Researchers about the Signature Symbol and then went home to sleep.
When I woke up, I started work on my Communication Spell with renewed determination.
I had a dual incentive. First, I wanted to be able to talk to Claudia properly. And second, the Council really wanted that spell. If I were to have any chance of convincing them Claudia and I could be together, I would need something to bargain with.
Chapter 11 - The Communication Spell
The next few weeks were the happiest I’d ever spent. Claudia and I got to know each other. She made me laugh, she challenged me, she inspired me. I was so delighted with life, I walked around with a permanent smile on my face.
I managed to invent a couple of new portal symbols. Opening portals remained a challenge, but once they were open, they now stayed open. It was a huge benefit to the Foundation in terms of safety.
I was granted increased freedom to come and go as I wished. I continued to learn new and interesting facts about the world of Terra.
The senior Researchers were happy with me. Together with my parents, they successfully argued that my matching could be postponed a little longer.
Serena told me she’d heard our mother and father talking about it. They were apparently concerned I might have to give up my profession for one that allowed magicians not to be married. Like teaching.
I’d snorted with laughter. I was far too impatient to be a professor. And what would I teach? Spell combinations that breach the Code and discredit senior professors? Hardly.
“Vallis, it might not be a case of finding the right girl,” my mother had apparently said. “He cares only for magic. Your experiment with the Sygnus has worked too well.”
My father had remained silent. Serena, hiding, had not been able to see his expression.
“Androva requires its brightest magicians to have children,” my mother went on. “I don’t care if he never marries, but he cannot stay at the Foundation unless he does. I fear he will be miserable if he has to leave.”
Serena had looked at me for a moment.
“It is possible to be happily married,” she said. “Don’t let Nico and Krysta put you off.”
“It’s not that,” I said honestly. “Really, it isn’t. Nico was unlucky. But luck can go both ways.”
She nodded, seeing I believed it.
“Alright. But you’ll have to face it eventually, Gale. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes. Soon.”
I felt bad, wishing I could tell them all not to worry. But I was nowhere near ready to make my case yet.
The Communication Spell was progressing. Although it had been slow to begin with, there had been a bit of a leap forward recently. I was pretty sure I could project more than just spells now. Emotions, memories, thoughts. Soon I would be able to test it on someone.
The turning point had come unexpectedly. I’d been exhausted, waiting for sleep to overtake me one afternoon. Although tired, I had struggled to calm my thoughts. My days and nights were completely mixed up because I could only see Claudia while her mistress slept.
I had projected my force field to cover me from head to toe like a magical blanket, something I always did when I was having trouble falling asleep. It was kind of comforting. I would turn it all the colours of the rainbow, one at a time. Usually it would help me to drift off.
Except this time, a new colour had appeared. Gold. In between blue and purple. I thought I was imagining it at first, because my eyes were so weary. I carried on to red and started the rainbow again.
It reappeared at the same place, and I hesitated. Gold. Why did that remind me of something? I carried on through the colours, realising I was holding my breath in anticipation.
Gold. Again. I added more and more magic to my force field, until I was certain about what I was feeling. The Finality Spell. Incomplete, because I had only touched it, not surrendered to it.
It was still there, somehow. Part of my magic. I had found it when I’d been half-way between waking and sleeping. It reminded me of a dream because if I tried to hold onto it too tightly, it drifted away from me.
At first I was scared, remembering what Mirrem had said about instability. But once I got used to it, I understood it added another dimension to my magic. I could connect and disconnect my force field at will.
I could be like an underage magician, or a magician of age, or something in between. It was the in-between part that turned out to be really interesting.
The gold energy acted like a portal inside my head. It was the key to unlocking the Communication Spell.
When I realised this, all I had to do was practice. And practice. And then practice some more. It was by far the most difficult spell I’d ever invented.
I also worked very hard to make the spell a different colour. It naturally started out the same gold as the Finality Spell. But that was too risky. So I turned it into a dark blue, almost purple, like the end of the rainbow where it had first appeared. There were still tiny glints of gold within it, but I doubted anyone else would notice.
By this time I had fallen head over heels for Claudia. As far as I was concerned, I refused to go back to a time when we had not met. I was looking for a solution that would allow us to be together.
I considered the facts. Firstly, I had to make a match. The Council would insist on my taking a wife as part of the coming of age ceremony when I reached seventeen. Well, I’d found the only girl I wanted.
Secondly, Claudia needed to escape her life on Terra. She had only a small chance of ever buying her freedom if she stayed there. And when she grew a bit older, Julia Felix would probably sell her to a Roman man prepared to pay a high price for her beauty.
I clenched my fists at the thought. No.
If Claudia would agree to marry me, and the Council would only allow it, all would be well.
One day, a few months after I had first spoken to her, I was finally ready to test the Communication Spell. I could put it off no longer.
Nico and I kept it a secret. We knew the other Researchers and the Council wouldn’t leave us alone if they had any idea how close I was to succeeding.
He couldn’t wait. I smiled at his enthusiasm. There had been a bitterness to his expression recently, and it was good to see him happy again. I had not known how to help him. His match was obviously not a happy one. Androvans did not break such things lightly, however.
Of course, it was possible. But elite magicians were supposed to be shining examples of the Council’s rules. He would have to leave the Foundation. And his father would never forgive him. The latter hardly mattered. The former would change his life.
“Things with Krysta aren’t that bad,” he told me. “Not compared to losing my profession.”
&n
bsp; “You can still invent spells,” I said. “You don’t have to be at the Foundation to do that. Research is done at the Seminary too. Or you could be a Remedax. They’re always making new remedies.”
He glared at me.
“If I can’t be the best, then what’s the point? I didn’t make it all the way to the Foundation to have my dream taken away from me, Galen. And certainly not because of her.”
“But…”
“No. You’ll be making a match of convenience yourself soon anyway, and then we’ll both be the same. Partners against adversity, like we’ve always been.”
I swallowed. Suddenly I was a little nervous about the Communication Spell. I would have to concentrate to make sure Nico saw nothing of my feelings for Claudia.
I wanted his support. He was likely to get pretty fed up if I threw my happiness into his head straight away.
We waited until the building was nearly empty. The portal comings and goings meant there was always someone around, but early evening tended to be quiet.
Our room was small, befitting our junior status. We had a desk and a chair each, a remedy station, and some bookshelves. One wall was kept completely clear for the portals.
The small window overlooked the central courtyard, where the statue currently resembled a Roman goddess called Venus.
Nico had created her, copying one he had seen in a Terran temple. He had jokingly told me Venus might help his wife to fall in love with him.
I saw him staring at the statue sometimes. Underneath his bravado, I’d seen a glimmer of something that looked a lot like hope. I would be grateful when the shape of the stone changed.
A statue isn’t going to grant him a happy marriage.
We pulled our chairs together and sat with our knees almost touching. I showed him the spell, a cloud of dark blue suspended above my hand.
I intended to share a memory with him, of when I had first defeated his evil father at my year one assessment. I thought it might cheer him up.
He projected his own force field to touch the edges of the spell, and then, growing more confident, put his whole hand into it. He frowned.
“I don’t feel anything,” he said.
“Nothing?” I checked.