by Duncan Pile
Once the first few hands had been played, Gaspi got the hang of it, and found he was enjoying himself, his restlessness banished. As the afternoon wore on, he found himself bantering comfortably with Everand, exorcising the remaining ghosts of last year’s conflict. There was no further mention of Ferast, and Everand was actually a pretty good laugh. Perhaps the two of them would even become friends.
…
The next few weeks passed quickly for Gaspi. As he was going away, he spent most of his spare time with Emmy, but he still managed to find time to hang out with Taurnil and Jonn. Taurnil in particular claimed more of Gaspi’s time than he usually did. He and Lydia had made a tentative peace after their big falling out, but the conflict about sex was clearly unresolved. Despite Taurnil’s protestations, Lydia regularly managed to stir up the tension between them by trying to seduce him. They were much too passionate about each other to break up over it, but Taurnil clearly found the whole thing trying, and had taken to avoiding Lydia when it all got a bit too much.
Gaspi occasionally caught glimpses of Ferast, scurrying around on his own, his expression dark as a thunderhead, but he never approached either him or Emmy. That was a perfectly good arrangement as far as Gaspi was concerned, and as long as things stayed that way, there was no need to stir up trouble.
Gaspi and Everand, on the other hand, had resolved their personal differences, and the only place their old rivalry reared its head was out on the quad, or more specifically, when they were playing football. They battled fiercely for dominance, and the games, though good spirited, were hard-fought.
A week before he was due to leave, Owein and Everand had gone with him to the Rest after a game, and they were talking about koshta:
“So you have to put the seed through the goal, just like football?” Owein asked.
“Yep, but you have to hit it with a whacker,” Gaspi responded.
“A whacker?” Everand asked.
“A stick with a flat bit on the end,” Gaspi said.
“Gasp, why don’t we play koshta in the quad?” Everand asked after a moment’s silence. He seemed to be entirely serious.
“No whackers, no ice boots, not enough seeds,” Gaspi answered. “And when I’m not here no-one else can ice the quad over.”
“You’re a magician!” Everand insisted. “Can’t you enchant something to cover the quad in ice? We could use it when you’re gone.”
“That’s actually a good idea,” Gaspi responded. “But what about the whackers and ice boots?”
“Look Gasp,” Everand said. “We’re up for playing while you’re away if you sort out the gear. You’ll think of something.”
“I didn’t realise you guys would be interested,” Gaspi responded.
“Of course we’re interested,” Everand insisted. “Sport is sport. Right Owein?”
“Right.”
…
That night Gaspi was tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep. Everand’s enthusiasm had got him thinking, and he couldn’t get the idea of the other boys playing koshta out of his head. There were two problems to overcome. The first was that they didn’t know how to play, and they certainly wouldn’t be able to get around on the ice. The second problem was equipment. None of the boys would have ice-boots or whackers, and it’d be far too expensive to pay local tradesmen to make them. Suddenly, he had an idea. Of course! Why hadn’t he thought of it before? Despite the excitement it caused him, finding part of the solution stopped him from obsessing about the problem, and he fell into a fitful sleep.
…
He woke up just before the dawn and practically jumped out of bed. He hurriedly brushed his hair, chewing on a section of guerny root to freshen his breath. He threw on some clothes and grabbed a koshta seed before running out the door and over to Emmy’s room. He knocked quietly on the door, not wanting to wake any of the other students in nearby rooms. When she didn’t answer, he knocked more loudly, and the door was opened moments later by a bleary-eyed Emmy wearing her nightgown.
She peered at him through half-open eyes. “What is it Gaspi?” she asked grumpily.
“Just get your cloak and come with me,” he said, too excited to explain.
“Good grief!” Emmy said, but shuffled back into her room to get ready. “Wait there,” she called over her shoulder as she disappeared into the darkness of the room and pushed the door to behind her. Gaspi tapped his foot impatiently as Emmy made him wait. One minute, two minutes, three! It would be dawn soon, and he didn’t want anyone else around for this. His patience exhausted, he was about to go in after her when she stepped out of the door fully dressed, her hair tied up neatly in a bun.
She pulled the door gently shut behind her. “What’s going on?” she asked quizzically.
Gaspi grabbed her by the hand and practically dragged her to the transporter room. “I’ve been thinking about the other boys playing koshta, and I’ve had an idea,” he said, fingering the seed. “You’ll want to see this.”
“Okay but stop pulling on my arm!”
“Sorry,” he said, letting her go. They transported to the empty Atrium and walked down through the campus until they came to the quad. He led her to the far corner and stopped. The quad was covered in the markings of the football pitch, but round the edge there was a good thirty feet of space, and Gaspi placed the seed in the middle of that open area of unmarked ground.
He stepped away from the seed. “Okay back off now Emmy, all the way to the bench.” When he was comfortable that she was at a safe distance, he closed his eyes and let himself fall into a meditative state. He didn’t know exactly how much power he was going to need for what he was going to do, but he suspected it wouldn’t be insignificant, and wanted to be in the optimum state for casting his spell.
Gaspi breathed deeply, his awareness of his surroundings diminishing as he tuned into his inner self. He let go of the excitement that until that moment had been driving him and sought a place of greater peace. There it was, calling to him with its siren song.
Deep within there was a well of green light, and he sank into it. He felt his heartbeat slow, his thoughts becoming one with the gentle undulation of the light around him. He watched it swirl and flow for long moments before engaging with it, attuning himself to the secretive rhythms of magic. The light began to pulse with his breath, surging with his out breath and slowing as he breathed in. Feeling the moment was right, he reached out with his hands, calling the magic to do his bidding. It came eagerly, flowing around him in great, encircling ribbons, surrounding his hands with blazing spheres of light.
Gaspi allowed himself to rise from his meditative state, opening his eyes to find himself surrounded by a nimbus of green light. He didn’t stop to wonder at it, but directed his thought to the seed. He penetrated its outer layer, sensing within it the quiescent potential for growth, a quiet hunger that would never be fulfilled in its current state. He spoke to the soil on which it lay, loosening and preparing it. Gaspi heard a soft gasp from Emea as the soil started to move, opening beneath the seed, which slowly tipped onto its side and then sank from view. He closed his eyes again, feeling the seed’s progress as the soil drew it down, past the upper layers and deep into its nourishing heart. When it was several feet down, he whispered to the soil once more and it stopped, enclosing the seed in rich, nurturing darkness. He spoke to the seed, encouraging it to draw the goodness of the soil in, and as it began to do so he ran his thought out through the ground, drawing life-giving energy from every direction.
“Grow!” he commanded, feeling the lines of energy connecting to the seed as it drew and then thirstily sucked in the latent energy in the soil. A long green shoot burst out of the seed’s casing and thrust upwards. It broke the soil with its long, green finger, eliciting another, louder gasp from Emea, and continued to thrust upwards. Gaspi found himself wrestling with the energy lines that fed it. The seed was drawing energy in at a tremendous rate, and it was as much as he could do to keep up with it. The green shoot was several
feet tall now, turning brown and fibrous at its thickening base, and still it grew. He could feel the ground weakening in places, drained by the thirsty seed’s growth, and he knew instinctively that if he didn’t stop drawing from those places, the ground would cave in. He took those lines of energy and moved them to new positions, feeding the seed from all round the quad as the tree grew. And a tree it was! He spared a moment to glance at what had been a green shoot just a minute earlier. It was over twelve feet tall now, its trunk turning glossy brown and sprouting branches.
Gaspi focussed all his attention on getting the energy to the tree without caving the ground in. He moved the energy draws further out towards the edge of the quad, soaking up the available nutrients in the soil. As the energy in even the most far flung draws began to run out, he glanced again at the tree. Its branches were spreading beautifully but it was only half grown and he’d used up nearly all the energy in the quad. He knew the tree wasn’t going to stop until it was at its full size, and had no choice but to keep the energy coming or it would start drawing directly from his own life force. Sweat broke out on his forehead as he pushed the lines out even further, beyond the boundaries of the quad, reaching out several feet beneath the paths and buildings surrounding them, plunging the lines deep beneath the stone surfaces and into rich, untapped soil. The strain made him feel stretched thin, pulled tight like the skin of a drum, and he wondered how much more he could take.
The tree continued to thrust upwards, three quarters of its full height now, its branches spreading widely as foliage budded and grew, covering it with thick, resinous needles. Sweat was rolling down his face, his teeth gritted as he pushed out the lines of energy once more. He’d had no idea growing a tree would take this much power, or draw this much energy from the ground. He felt the sharp edge of panic as his hands began to shake. What if he couldn’t do it? What if he ran out of strength before the spell was complete? Would he burn out? He looked at the tree. Was its growth slowing down? It looked to be almost the size of a regular koshta tree. Yes it was slowing! Gaspi focused, calming his breathing, forcing himself to concentrate just that little bit longer. He had very little energy left, and couldn’t push the lines out any further, but he was almost there.
The branches spread out another inch or two and finally stopped, the foliage lustrous and thick, and the upwards thrust had stopped too. Gaspi could feel the tree making one last demand on the energy lines as hard, dark brown shapes formed, one on the end of each branch. They swelled until they were the shape and size of the seed he’d placed on the soil, and then mercifully, the draw stopped. Releasing his shaky hold on the magic, he fell to his knees, utterly spent.
“Gaspi,” Emea cried and ran over to him, pushing back his head with her hand and looking into his eyes. “Are you okay?” she asked, her eyes searching for something within his.
“I’m okay,” Gaspi said, and then he grinned weakly. “That was hard,” he said, turning his eyes to the brand new koshta tree. It stood over a hundred feet tall, its branches spreading proudly in the dawn light. “Looks like it worked though!” he said, staring up at its great height.
“It’s beautiful Gaspi,” Emea said, clearly still worried about him, “but why don’t you check before doing something like this?”
He felt guilty when he saw how concerned she was. “Sorry Emmy,” he said. “I really didn’t think it would be this hard. To be honest I scared myself a bit towards the end. I think I used up just about everything I’ve got.” He held up a trembling hand to demonstrate.
Emmy took his hands. “Will you promise me that you’ll ask a teacher next time you want to do something brand new, in case it turns out to be too much for you?”
He couldn’t resist the sincerity of her plea. “I promise.”
Emmy’s face relaxed, and she kissed him. As her lips touched his, a surge of warmth flooded him, tingling behind his navel and spreading throughout his body. He pulled back and looked down at himself. His hands had stopped shaking. “What was that?” he asked in amazement.
“Just a bit of energy,” Emmy said. “Not enough to replenish what you’ve spent, but enough so you can get through the day.”
“Oh! Thanks,” Gaspi said, flexing his fingers experimentally. “I didn’t know you could do that.”
“It’s one of my tricks,” Emmy said, borrowing Taurnil’s turn of speech. She looked up at the koshta tree. “That’s amazing,” she said appreciatively. She stood up, reaching out a hand and helping him to his feet.
“It is, isn’t it!” he said, walking over to the tree and placing a hand on its smooth, dark bark. It felt just like the trees at home. Its dark green needles were bunched just as thickly as a native tree, and the seeds dangling from each branch were perfectly formed.
“How’s it going to help?” Emea asked quizzically.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Well even if you cut a branch off to make whackers, you still have to pay a carpenter to have them made, and a cobbler to make the boots,” Emmy said.
“I’m going to cheat,” he said. “Tomorrow, when I’ve recovered a bit, I’m going to grow some whackers right off the tree.”
“You can do that?” Emmy asked, fascinated.
“I can’t see why not,” he answered, “and there’s obviously no problem with seeds,” he said, indicating the heavy, polished-looking object hanging from the end of the lowest branch. “I’m gonna enchant something to cover the quad in ice too, so anyone can do it when I’m not here. I dunno about the boots though. Maybe the college will pay for it.”
“Sounds like you’ve got it all sorted,” Emmy said with a smile, and kissed him on the cheek. She tugged on his arm. “Come on. Let’s get some breakfast,” she said, leading him reluctantly away from his tree, standing proudly in the dawn light.
…
The day before he was due to leave, Gaspi had Taurnil, Owein and Everand meet him in the quad. The boys found him in the corner of the quad by the tree, leaning on a waist high pillar of wood that was exactly the same colour as the tree itself, finished so smoothly it glowed as if finely polished. An unmarked wooden crate lay at his feet.
“What’s this all about Gasp?” Owein asked genially. Gaspi had pulled him and Everand away from a game of cards in the Warren, but they were both clearly curious and didn’t seem to mind the interruption.
“I think I’ve got it all sorted so you can play koshta while I’m away.” “Awesome!” Everand said, grinning. “I knew you could do it.”
“I needed a bit of pushing, but anyway, here’s your enchanted device,” he said, slapping the top of the pillar next to him.
“How does it work?” Everand asked, eyeing it curiously.
“All you have to do is thread a little bit of power into it, and it does the rest for you.”
“Amazing,” Owein said, looking at the glowing pillar in awe.
“Let’s have a go,” Everand said, elbowing Owein out of the way as he stepped forwards.
“Sure,” Gaspi said, stepping away from the pillar. Everand lifted a hand and held it suspended over the enchanted pillar before lowering it down dramatically. Gaspi smirked. He’d come to like Everand over the last few weeks, but despite their newly-established peace, he couldn’t help laughing at the privileged boy’s unfailing pomposity. He never missed an opportunity to make a meal out of something, and as far as Gaspi was concerned, he looked like a right prat every time. Everand squared his shoulders and drew on his power. Gaspi could tell from the tingling behind his navel that he was drawing much more power than was necessary, but it wouldn’t matter. The device would do all the work anyway.
Sure enough, layers of mist began to form over the quad, freezing into fine skins of ice and lowering themselves to the ground. Within about a minute, the process was complete, and the quad was capped by a thick covering of ice.
“Excellent!” Owein said. “How do we undo it?”
“Same way,” Gaspi said, “but just touch the lower part of the
device instead of the top.” The pillar was clearly divided in two by an inch-wide indentation, and Gaspi placed his hand on the section below the line to demonstrate. “You wanna try it Owein?”
“Sure,” the tall, blond boy answered, taking Everand’s place and pressing his palm against the part of the pillar Gaspi had indicated. With none of Everand’s theatrics, he sent a thin thread of power into the device, watching the quad intently as the ice melted away layer by layer until dry ground was exposed.
“This is great Gasp,” he said. “But what about whackers?
Gaspi nudged the crate besides him with the toe of his boot. “Grown right from the tree.” Everand bent down to remove the lid, and came up with a dark, polished length of koshta wood, with a flattened heel. A glance inside the crate told him that there were enough whackers for both teams in there.
“The seeds are in there too, and Taurnil has the ice-boots,” he said, anticipating their further questions. “My guardian, Jonn, paid for them out of his wages.”
“We’ll have to thank him then,” Owein said, taking the whacker from Everand and turning it over in his hands. “It might take us a while to learn,” he said. “We’ll just be stumbling round the ice to start with I guess.”
“I’m going to teach you,” Taurnil interjected, speaking for the first time. “After Gaspi’s gone, we’ll arrange some times when I’m not on duty.”
“Brilliant!” Everand enthused. “By the time you’re back, we’ll be able to give you a run for your money!”
“You can try,” Gaspi answered, grinning. “I reckon I’ll come back to find you’ve just about learned how to go in a straight line.”