Zollin was a little overwhelmed, but he understood that magic was an abstract thing. He could feel it, but he knew it was separate from him too. It was like water—he couldn’t grasp it like a sword, but he could contain it like the banks of a river. He felt he could shape it, too, and he could even direct it.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Good,” said Kelvich. “Now, only on the rarest occasions can an object bestow magic on a person without the guidance of a skilled practitioner, such as a wizard like yourself.”
They had come into a small clearing in the forest. They were probably three hundred paces from Kelvich’s cabin. The snow was thick on the ground here, unbroken by any activity. The boyish part of Zollin wanted to run and jump right into the snow, but another part admired the beauty of it.
“Do you sense anything here?” Kelvich asked.
At first Zollin didn’t. He looked at the trees around the clearing, but he sensed nothing in them. The snow-covered clearing didn’t feel like anything special, until he focused his mind on the ground beneath the snow. He felt it then, like tiny whispers of life, hundreds of little sparks of magic cocooned in the snow.
“I don’t know what it is,” Zollin said. “It feels like tiny bits of magic. It’s life-giving magic.”
“Impressive,” Kelvich said. “Most people can’t sense the augmire weed in its frozen state. Certain plants and herbs contain magic and can be used for healing, like the weed in this clearing. It’s used to treat upset stomachs and digestive diseases.”
“Di—what?”
“Digestion is the function of your body to break down food into nutrients, and the rest as waste.”
“What do you mean?”
“You can study anatomy later,” Kelvich said. “Digestion is what happens to the food you eat as it passes through your body and gets crapped it out. Okay?”
“Oh, yeah, sure. Digestion. I got it.”
“Okay, so some plants and herbs heal, others kill and are used in poisons. There are also some minerals that contain magic. Most magical objects are made from these types of minerals.”
“What exactly is a mineral again?”
“A mineral is a naturally occurring substance such as copper or tin or even gold. Now, not all minerals have magic—you can have magic in one gold ring and not in another. Take your friend’s ring for example. Do you sense magic in the ring?”
“Yes,” Zollin said. “That’s why I bought it.”
Kelvich merely raised his eyes at Zollin, which made the young wizard reconsider his answer. He knew the ring contained magic, so why wasn’t that the right answer, he wondered. The sorcerer waited patiently as Zollin puzzled it out. Finally he realized that the magic wasn’t actually in the ring, just in the milky white stone.
“Oh, of course. The magic’s in the stone, not the ring.”
“Correct. Now, a skilled alchemist could have combined the stone’s power with other materials that enhanced that power, making an extremely powerful magical object. You understand?”
“Yes, but what’s an alchemist?”
“All in due time, my boy, all in due time.”
Chapter 19
“There are several levels of magic users,” Kelvich explained as they sampled the soup that Brianna had made. It was fine soup, warm and filling after tramping around in the forest. Zollin and Kelvich had located several types of wildflowers and naturally growing herbs. Zollin described their power, and Kelvich named the plant and described its uses.
“Not everyone who has magic is a wizard. At the simplest level of magical ability are illusionists. They can perform simple tricks and often work to con people out of their money or possessions.”
“Yeah, I think I met a guy like that,” Zollin said.
“Who?” Brianna asked.
“The performer at the harvest festival. He definitely didn’t agree with you, Kelvich. He was pretty set that magic didn’t exist.”
“That’s not surprising, really,” said the Sorcerer. “Their illusions are the only power they have. If they tried other things, they would fail. For illusionists, magic manifests itself in their abilities. So it’s natural that they would try more, fail, and then become convinced that magic doesn’t exist. Take yourself, for example. Do you create the magic?”
“No,” Zollin said. “I just sort of channel it.”
“And that is why an illusionist would fail. He has no real power other than an ability to make others see what he wants them to. An herbalist is the next step. Their magic takes the form of knowledge about plants and herbs. Now, there are herbalists and apothecaries who have no magical ability; they simply have the knowledge of what plants and herbs to use in making medicines and salves. But others have an innate sense of what those plants can do. They are drawn to plants with magical properties, the same way you are, only they can’t sense the magic, they just know which plants are helpful. They often create new medicines just by feel without much experimentation.”
“Wow,” Zollin said. “That’s impressive. Do they know they’re magic users?”
“Usually not,” Kelvich explained after he had chewed the vegetables in his mouth. “They can’t sense magic, and without guidance, they may never fully develop their abilities.
“In a similar way, alchemists have an innate knowledge of minerals. Alchemists can even transform some objects into completely different materials all together. Again, most alchemists today don’t realize they have power. They just experiment and try things. In ages past, alchemists were highly sought after by Kings and those in power, but as the Torr gained strength and many alchemists were killed or driven into hiding, much of their lore has been lost.
“Alchemists can create powerful magical objects, such as the famed Sword of Inosis. It was unbreakable, just as the legends say, but it was just a normal sword made from magical iron that an alchemist had forged. Some alchemists specialize in working with certain materials, but the most powerful can work with them all with such incredible skill that the most gifted craftsmen could never compete with it.
“The next level is a sorcerer,” he said with a little bow. “We have several unique abilities. The first is a powerful sense of magic in all things. Unfortunately, we can’t usually control that magic. Like an herbalist or an alchemist, I can sense the power in plants and minerals, but I can’t manipulate them skillfully. I can also differentiate magical objects that were imbued with power, such as an amulet or say the Sword of Inosis, from objects that are themselves a source of magical power, like Zollin’s staff and willow belt.”
“What belt?” Brianna said, looking at Zollin’s trousers.
“He keeps a belt woven from willow branches around his waist, under his shirt,” said Kelvich with a twinkle in his eye.
Zollin turned a little red before saying, “There’s a reason I wear it under my shirt.”
“No doubt, no doubt, but friends shouldn’t have secrets,” the sorcerer said matter-of-factly. “Now, sorcerers have another power, one that is easily abused. We cannot control magical objects ourselves, but we can manipulate and even control other magic users. Shall I demonstrate?” he said, speaking directly to Brianna.
“No,” Zollin said loudly.
“Yes, please,” she said, her smile melting Zollin’s heart.
“Of course, now let me see. What is it that our young wizard here would never do?”
“I’ve never seen him dance,” Brianna said with enthusiasm.
“Yes, excellent. And is he a singer?”
“No, please,” Zollin begged.
“I would love to hear him sing,” she said, pretending to be serious. “How about the ’Absent Farmer’s Daughter’?”
“Excellent choice, my lady. If our performer will please stand,” he said to Zollin.
“No way, this isn’t fair.”
“It’s part of my lesson,” Kelvich said, sounding hurt.
“Then change it.”
“But where’s the fun in that? Now, as I sai
d, sorcerers can manipulate magic users.”
Suddenly Zollin sprang up from his seat. He had an overwhelming urge to dance and sing. It was irresistible. He cleared his throat and began to dance and sing, clapping his hands in time. Some small part of his brain was screaming that he should stop, but the desire to sing and dance was just too strong. He shouted out the words to the popular tune, hopping and spinning as he clapped his hands. Brianna and Kelvich clapped along and joined him on the chorus. When he was finally done, the desire suddenly disappeared and he realized what he had done. Brianna was laughing and telling him what a good job he had done, but the embarrassment was too much. He grabbed his staff, resisting the urge to blast Kelvich into a glowing ember, and ran from the cabin.
“Oh, no, we’ve embarrassed him,” Brianna said, a little distressed.
“He’ll come around,” Kelvich said. “But you’d better be getting back to the inn. It won’t do for a brother and sister to be gone so long together. People might begin to talk.”
Brianna blushed and hurried to the door, but just before she opened it, she turned back.
“Can a sorcerer read a person’s thoughts?” she asked.
“No, but when you’ve been around as long as I have, you learn a thing or two about people.”
“What do you know about me?” she asked.
“Ah, well, that is a discussion for another time, but I think what you are referring to is your attraction to Zollin. And that, my girl, is plain and clear, but dangerous at this point in the game. Be sure to hold your feelings close.”
“Why? Do you think he feels the same way?”
“I think Zollin is a very conflicted young man. Give him time. He’ll see what matters most before long.”
Brianna smiled a shy but beautiful smile and darted out the door. Zollin was across the small yard, untying his horse.
“Wait for me,” she called.
He didn’t look up, but he didn’t immediately ride away either. He stood waiting by Lilly as Brianna hurried over.
“I’m sorry, Zollin,” she said.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
She untied Lilly’s reins and they pulled themselves into their saddles as Kelvich walked out onto his little porch. He had a long tube made from stiffened leather in his hands. He waved it to them.
“Take this with you,” he called. “Tell anyone who asks that I’m tutoring you in preparation for a career in law.”
Zollin wanted to ignore the old man, but he sawed at the reins until his horse was standing close enough for him to take the strange container. There was a strap sewn onto the tube, and Zollin slung it over his shoulder.
“What’s in it?” Zollin asked.
“Lots of legal jargon,” Kelvich said. “I’m sure Ollie will have gone through every paper soon enough. She’ll confirm your story, and in the future I can give you things you’ll want to study.”
“What makes you think I’ll ever come back here again?” Zollin challenged.
“Ah, well, first of all, curiosity, but also because I promise never to do that to you again.”
“You said that the last time we met,” Zollin said.
“No, I said I would never use your magic without your permission again. This time I’m promising to never make you sing and dance before a lovely young lady again.”
“Promise you’ll never control me like that,” said Zollin harshly. “Give me your word, sorcerer, or you’ll never see me again.”
Kelvich sighed. “All right, all right. I promise. But the next time you come, bring me a cut of pork from the butcher. I grow tired of chicken.”
Zollin nodded, his anger still simmering just beneath the surface. He could feel the heat from his magic swirling inside him. He pulled hard on the reins and galloped out of the forest. Brianna followed, feeling bad for having joined in with Kelvich. She had thought the song and dance adorable, and would have told Zollin so. She hated to see him wounded, but she was carefully pondering what Kelvich had told her. She wondered if she had made things unnecessarily hard for Zollin. She liked him. He had captured her heart that day in the alley at Tranaugh Shire when he had revealed his newfound skill to her. She hadn’t admitted it at first. It wasn’t proper to fall in love with your betrothed’s best friend. And she hadn’t wanted to hurt Todrek any more than Zollin. Todrek was just a big, tenderhearted boy and she regretted greatly that he had been slain, but she couldn’t stand the thought of Zollin leaving without her. She had chased after him that day without a thought for anyone else, not even her husband.
Now she needed to comfort Zollin, but she realized that he was still smarting from embarrassment. She needed to proceed with finesse. She kept all these things to herself, of course, choosing to remain silent until they reached the wider village roads. The cold was wicked as the afternoon waned. The wind was blowing, and it managed to find every seam in her cloak. Her hands were aching as they finally reached the village.
“Would you take my reins?” she asked him.
He turned and looked at her, surprised. She could see the hurt there and longed to wipe it away, but she kept her distance.
“My hands are nearly frozen,” she explained.
He reached over and took her reins and then hesitated.
“Give me your hands,” he said. “And take off the ring.”
Her heart fluttered, but she tried not to let her excitement show. Zollin felt a lump rising in his throat. He probably should just lead her horse back to the inn, but he hated to see her freezing hands. She had long delicate fingers that were turning blue from the cold. She pulled the ring off her finger and dropped it into the pocket of her cloak, then held her hands out to him. He put his own around them and projected heat with his mind. Her hands grew warm, and he was careful to control the magic as it flowed through him. He didn’t want to burn her.
“That feels so good,” she said. “Better than a fire.”
He nodded and, after a minute or so, let go of her and handed back her reins. They rode the rest of the way back without speaking. When they got to the stable behind the inn, she finally said what was on her mind.
“I’m sorry if I’ve made this trip hard on you,” she said.
Zollin stiffened. He wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t want her to be sorry. He was glad she was here, but he couldn’t give her what she needed. Nor could he stand the thought of her with anyone else. It was a terrible feeling, and it showed on his features.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’ve been out of line, but I do want to be your friend.”
He nodded, the lump seeming to choke off any possible words.
“I really appreciate you inviting me along today.”
“No problem,” he managed to say, although his voice was strained.
“Do you mind if I go on in?” she asked, pointing over her shoulder to the inn.
“No, go ahead,” he said. He watched her walk away, and although he tried, he couldn’t tear his eyes off of her. Finally, when she was out of sight around the corner, he led the horses into the stable. He took his time rubbing them down and ensuring that they had fresh water and plenty of oats. Then he went back to the inn. The common room was filling quickly. Ollie and Ellie were busy serving food and drinks. Mansel was in the corner looking green and unhappy. Quinn was sitting with a man about his own age but wearing elegantgarments. Brianna was not in the common room, so Zollin joined Mansel.
“You okay?” he asked the young apprentice.
“No, I drank too much last night,” he said in a voice that was little more than a moan. “I’ll never touch mulled wine again as long as I live.”
Despite being angry with Kelvich and confused by Brianna, Zollin laughed. He laughed at himself and his predicament with Brianna and his good fortune in meeting Kelvich and the rankling way the old sorcerer had. He laughed because even though his heart still ached with the loss of his best friend and the life-long absence of his mother, he was happy.
Chapter 20
/> Two days passed before Zollin made it back out to Kelvich’s cabin. The weather was unseasonably warm, which translated into the temperature rising slightly above freezing. Most of the snow insulated itself, so very little melting took place, but any rise in the temperature was welcome to the people of Brighton’s Gate. Zollin remembered to bring the sorcerer a bit of pork. In fact, he bought some pork ribs and several pork chops.
They spent the morning sitting at the little table sharing information while Kelvich prepared the ribs to be cooked in a small smoker he had built.
“So, did Ollie find your papers?” Kelvich asked.
“I believe so. I left them easily accessible, and she straightened our room herself.”
“And where is your sister this morning?”
“She’s actually helping the tailor. Her father is a tailor, and she’s trading some labor for warmer gear for all of us. It’s really quite nice of her,” Zollin said, feeling the thick wool tunic she had bartered for him. “My father set it up, but she’s been working hard. Not really apprentice work, but odds and ends, whatever the tailor needs. I have to admit she has skills.”
Kelvich changed the line of conversation.
“All right, so we discussed sorcerers but not warlocks, and it’s really not fair to talk about one apart from the other. Warlocks have incredible power, more than all but the strongest wizards, but they can’t control it. In fact, have you noticed that your magic has a mind of its own?”
Zollin thought for a moment. There were certainly times when he felt he had to control himself. It was like riding a powerful horse that needed constant reminding that the rider was in control. But there were other times when he had reacted without thought, the magic responding to need rather than command. He nodded and Kelvich continued.
“Often that power will drive a warlock insane, but if a sorcerer finds a warlock, he can tap into that power. In the past, sorcerers collected warlocks like a carpenter collects tools. They would control the warlocks, use them up and then discard them like trash. It’s the temptation of our power, to control and dominate. Hence the stories you’ve probably heard, which are mostly all lies and exaggerations. And while a majority of sorcerers were cruel and evil men, grasping for power that was not theirs to have, some became teachers.”
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