Tarrin Kael Firestaff Collection Book 5 - Weavespinner by Fel ©

by James Galloway (aka Fel)

  After that, they moved into a more serious aspect of Sorcery, and that was healing. There were many spells of healing that had been forgotten, even by the Sha'Kar, and many of them were spells that affected more than just injury. There were weaves for helping the body fight disease, though the weave couldn't outright cure the disease itself. There were weaves that helped a Sorcerer heal mental damage, such as trauma or shock, but only a Sorcerer of the same race could do that. The boundary of species was a constant throughout all of Sorcery when it came to using Mind weaves, even to the Ancients. Only under truly extraordinary circumstances could that barrier be breached. Spyder was the only example of such an extraordinary circumstance. After ten thousand or so years, the Urzani had come to understand humans to such a detailed, exacting degree that it allowed her to use Mind weaves against humans. There was even a weave that partially reversed insanity, though it was not a permanent effect.

  After that, they started with sphere-specific spells, going through a myriad of different Air weaves and Fire weaves and Water weaves and Earth weaves, which weren't really anything new. Sorcery was a very fluid, dynamic magical power, which allowed for a great deal of lattitude in its use. It didn't demand the exacting words and gestures of Wizard and Priest magic, and it didn't require the immense clarity of intent and discipline of Druidic magic, which meant that the results of Sorcery could often be quite different from casting to casting of the exact same spell. It was also why a spell's effect often had different potency from one Sorcerer to another, depending on any number of variables, including the concentration and experience of the caster. This margin of relaxation gave Sorcery a unique aspect that didn't exist for the other orders, except perhaps Druidic magic, and that was the ability to improvise. Experienced Sorcerers could improvise on the spot, make up new spells as they needed them, and many of the things he'd learned through his turning were more formal variations of spells that he or Jenna or Keritanima or Dolanna had invented when they had a need for them. Druidic magic was capable of such improvisation, but the consequences of failure were so drastic that making things up as one went along was a very dangerous practice.

  The only sphere-specific spells that were carefully used were Mind weave spells, because of the risk of damage to the mind affected by them. One did not improvise when using Mind weaves, so the spells that he taught Jenna, a great many of them, were new to her, new and somewhat useful. Spells to intefere with a mind's operation, spells to put a victim to sleep, spells that were more refined versions of the phantasm aspect of Mind weaves, spells that made someone believe that he could see or hear or smell or touch something that actually didn't exist. Illusions fooled the senses, but Phantasms tricked the mind. They were well researched because not many Sorcerers were very adept with Illusions. Dar was one of a very rare few that showed such aptitude for Illusions, for it was a very demanding field of study and also required a very vivid imagination. There were spells to delve into the memory of a victim, allowing a Sorcerer to access memories of another, and spells to hear the thoughts of others. There was also a spell that instantly allowed a Sorcerer to lift an entire language out of another's mind and learn it, but it was a Weavespinner spell, meaning that only Jenna and Dolanna would have any real use for it, since it too was restricted to only being able to be used against members of the caster's own race.

  After that was done, and they broke to get a late lunch, they came back to start learning the Weavespinner spells. These were powerful spells, ones so strong that only a Weavespinner could use them. Spells like Teleportation, a spell that would instantly kill a victim by disrupting his body's processes and leave no trace of its use, a spell that could interfere with gravity itself in a small area, either increasing it or lessening it, even changes its direction of pull for a short time. There was a spell that allowed a Sorcerer to take complete control of someone's mind, turning him into a puppet, and a spell used against Sorcerers that would strip them of their powers for as long as the caster kept the spell active. Sorcerers could block one another from using the power, but that required strength and a great deal of effort. The spell made that a little easier, but it still depended on the strength of the caster and the strength of the victim. Jenna could use it to block almost anyone in the Tower except Tarrin, Jasana, and perhaps Keritanima, Dolanna, and Ianelle. Those three weren't sui'kun, but they were both very powerful and very experienced, and could possibly break the spell. There were a great many other spells, fighting spells, useful spells, even some trivial spells, showing that the Ancients still placed a greater value on Sorcery as a useful tool or means of entertainment than a weapon of war.

  As the sun began to set, they moved on to the most powerful of all the spells he'd learned, the spells of High Sorcery. These were the most powerful of all, and a vast majority of them were battle spells. The Ancients did study magic as a weapon of war, but they seemed to concentrate on using it thus only at its highest level of ability. This too seemed to make sense to him, since the Sha'Kar had dominated the culture of the Ancients, and their aversion to fighting meant that if they had to do it, they were going to do it fast and be sure about the results. High Sorcery was the most efficient and fastest means to win such a fight, and as such it was developed mainly with spells used in combat. There were non-fighting spells in Tarrin's memory that relied on High Sorcery, but the majority of them were battle magic. The Sunbolt, a spell Tarrin had learned very early on, was just one example of the kind of raw, unmitigated power that High Sorcery could unleash, and other spells of the same ilk had the same kind of destructive ability. There were spells for making rock explode, spells for turning air into a lethal poison, spells to change blood into a poison. There was a spell that caused a massive earthquake in a confined area, a spell that caused a deluge of razor-sharp shards of ice to rain from the sky. One spell even called down a meteor and made it strike where the Sorcerer indicated. Something falling from the sky had such speed and energy built up in it that when it hit the ground, it would explode with the power of thousands and thousands of kegs of Wikuni gunpowder, absolutely annihilating everything around where it impacted. Tarrin's memory told him that that particular spell had only been used in battle once, and it was used to destroy a city in the southern kingdom of Stygia, the immediate neighbor of Sharadar. The katzh-dashi had been so horrified by its effects and what they'd done that the spell was outlawed and the war between Sharadar and Stygia was immediately ended. It was the only war Sharadar had ever lost in its entire history, and they lost it because they surrendered to the Stygians in apology and repentence for what they'd done. For their own honor and pride, the Stygians accepted that apology, and it led to the strong alliance that the two nations now enjoyed.

  It was a sobering thought, that one, one that Jenna brought up. The sui'kun, single, individual beings, could call forth the power to destroy entire cities. She remarked that perhaps that was too much power for a mortal to hold. Tarrin didn't really engage her in the philosophy of that debate, for the memory of what he'd done at Torrian was still fresh and raw in him. He knew how it felt to destroy an entire city, and he fully understood the horror of the katzh-dashi after doing it themselves. He did not blame them in the slightest for outlawing the spell, but he realized that it was a very rash act. Any spell, even that one, could be altered in its power to be made less potent. That was a core rule of Sorcery, any spell could be made as strong or as weak as the Sorcerer desired, up to the limits of the Sorcerer himself. They could have simply decided to call down a smaller meteor, one that devastated a much smaller area. That would be very handy in eliminating an army.

  After they were done, both of them were quiet and reflective. Now Tarrin understood why those who had caused the Breaking were so afraid of the katzh-dashi. They really were that powerful. Had they really wanted to, they could have conquered the entire world. But that was then. The katzh-dashi of today weren't nearly as powerful or as numerous, and though they could help an army conquer a much larger force, the effort o
f wielding magic on that scale would make them only useful for short periods. Even Tarrin himself, one of the most powerful, couldn't use that kind of magic in a sustained manner any longer than a few minutes at the most. The most powerful of all spells were vast in size and intricate in construction, meaning that they took a long time to weave, and that would wear him out by the time he started the second, or possibly the third, depending on how angry he was. They were spells more suited for a Circle, where the effort to weave them was distributed among the members of the Circle.

  But that too was a moot point. The katzh-dashi were an order of peace, and they would only use that power in defense of itself or for the protection of those placed under their care. They would never use it to conquer or rule, and with Jenna as the Keeper, he was sure that that would never change.

  It was well past dark when they finally finished, not far from midnight. They were both tired, but there was an excited light in Jenna's eyes. She was thrilled at having learned so much about Sorcery in such a short time, and he couldn't really blame her. If he'd been in her shoes, he'd be very excited about it too. Jenna's short life was totally devoted to Sorcery now and all it entailed. The Tower was her new home, and the katzh-dashi were like her children. She was unswervingly devout to the Goddess, just as he was. Tarrin couldn't see how anyone who'd been touched by her couldn't be devout.

  They went down to the kitchens for a late dinner, since they'd both only had that one meal and were both ravenous. As always, the kitchens were busy, but now the business was concentrating on cleaning up and preparing for tomorrow's cooking than cooking for today. Pots and pans were scrupulously cleaned, fireplaces swept of ash, tables and countertops wiped down, kettles scrubbed. But the instant the Keeper appeared, they fell over themselves offering her anything she wished. When she asked for a bowl of beef and vegetable stew, one of her favorites, a kettle was pulled off the peg, ingredients were retrieved, and the head cook, a large fellow named Golin, assured her that it would be ready very soon. He pushed breads and pastries at her, meat pies and a large platter of fruits and vegetables, urging her to eat a little before her meal was prepared. She took a little bread and a small bowl of grapes, Tarrin filched a joint of beef that had been roasting for most of the day, and they retired to the main dining hall, where the Novices were seated and dined three times a day. It was empty now, the long benches and tables cleaned and waiting for breakfast.

  "This place brings back memories," Tarrin mused as they sat down at the table nearest the doorway to the kitchens.

  "You know, I never had to sit in here," Jenna chuckled. "Sometimes I come in here and eat, just to see what it's like."

  "It's alot different when it's empty," he grunted. "Try eating with the Novices some day."

  "It would be just as quiet now as it would if I did that," she winked. "I'm the Keeper, Tarrin. I'm not someone that a Novice would feel comfortable eating with, you know."

  "True," he admitted. "But maybe you could wear a disguise or something. You're young, sister. If you put on Novice white, I think that you could probably fool some people. Not all of them, but some of them."

  "I don't think so," she said. "It's a small Tower, brother, and everyone knows me."

  "Then use an Illusion."

  "I'm not really very good at Illusions," she admitted sheepishly. "I can make image Illusions well enough, but there's a trick to making them move I haven't quite figured out. All my Illusions look like painted portraits, and they look silly when they start moving."

  Snorting, Tarrin set down his joint. "Make one. Let's see where you're making your mistake."

  She did so, an Illusion of their mother, Elke Kael, and he saw immediately that it wasn't her weaving that was the problem. "You're doing it right, but you're weaving it like it's a spell, Jenna," he told her. "Illusion is an art form, not a formula. You don't weave it, you create it. You have to breathe life into it, or it's going to look exactly like that one. A picture."

  "Now I understand why they all say that Illusions are so hard," Jenna said with a furrowed brow as she tried again. The image was just as detailed as the first, but it too had that empty, soulless quality that made it apparent that it was an Illusion.

  "Don't think about how mother looks," Tarrin said. "Think about her. Her presence, her personality, what makes her who she is. Then put them into the Illusion."

  Frowning, Jenna banished the Illusion and took a moment to mull things over, then she tried once more. The resulting Illusion looked as the other two did, a faithful reproduction of their mother's appearance, but now there was just something a little more in it, a kind of presence that made it seem more real than the first two.

  "Now you're getting it," Tarrin complemented. "It takes practice, Jenna. It's not the kind of thing you can just start doing. Just work on it a little, and you should get the hang of it."

  Jenna laughed. "And I thought everyone was blowing Dar's talents out of proportion," she said ruefully. "I didn't think that being good at Illusions was such a thing to take notice of."

  "Dar's very talented, sister. He has the soul of an artist. That's what gives his Illusions such power. When he weaves an Illusion, it doesn't just look real, it feels real."

  "I think I'll ask him for some lessons," she smiled.

  "I wonder where he is," Tarrin mused.

  "Right now? I think him and Tiella are walking," she answered. "Tiella has the biggest crush on him," she added with a conspiratorial smile.

  "Dar really fancies her," Tarrin added. "I think they'd be a good match."

  "Maybe we should," she trailed off, waving her hand slightly.

  "I don't think we need to do anything," he said. "As soon as Tiella works up the nerve to tell Dar how she feels, she'll have him. She's intimidated by him."

  "Everyone is. Whatever you and Dolanna did to Dar, brother, it has quite an effect. He walks around the Tower with a confidence that makes everyone take him very seriously, despite the fact that he's still technically an Initiate. He knows more than some katzh-dashi ten times his age," she chuckled.

  "After going through what he went through, he'd better have learned," Tarrin grunted. "Dolanna took him under her wing and taught him almost everything she knew. And Dolanna is a very good Sorceress. She's got some tricks that most other katzh-dashi would say are impossible."

  "I've noticed," Jenna smiled. "I think it's no big surprise she was the very first of the new katzh-dashi to cross over."

  "None at all," Tarrin agreed. "Even before she crossed over she was probably stronger than anyone on the Council, but it's not her nature to want a position like that. She seems more comfortable out in the world, using her abilities in direct service to the Goddess. She's a natural field katzh-dashi." Tarrin glanced towards the door. "Mother is very pleased with her," he told her. "She told me not to tell Dolanna, but I don't think she'd mind me telling you. She told me that whenever she has a delicate or serious problem somewhere, Dolanna is usually the first name on her list of children to send to take care of it."

  "That's not all that surprising. If I had a serious problem somewhere, Dolanna would be the first person I'd think of to go take care of it." Jenna chuckled. "I guess I know now why Kerri is so good."

  "Another pupil of Dolanna," Tarrin nodded. "Then again, she has quite a bit of natural aptitude. Dolanna helped her along, but alot of it came from Kerri herself."

  "True, but if there was a better way to get started, I don't know what it would be, except maybe getting lessons from Mother herself."

  "After all this is over, sister, I think the best thing you could do is bring Dolanna back to the Tower for a while," he told her. "She's an excellent field agent, but she's also an incredibly gifted teacher. She can teach anyone almost anything. I think you'd do very well to bring her in and let her teach for a while."

  "That is a very good idea," Jenna agreed with an enthusiastic nod. "With results like you and Kerri and Dar to her credit, nobody can gainsay her credentials."

 
; "Why would they gainsay?" Tarrin asked. "You're the Keeper, Jenna. When you say do something, they do it. It doesn't matter if they like it or not, they do it. If you have people backtalking you, remind them of just who is in charge."

  "I was speaking figuratively, Tarrin," she smiled. "Nobody openly defies me. I've had too many lessons from you and mother and Myriam to allow that kind of impertenence. Some of them think I'm too young, and a few on the Council are quite miffed that I was selected over them, but nobody openly challenges me."

  "If there was any, I think the Sha'Kar killed it," Tarrin mused.

  Jenna laughed. "I think that's a good point," she agreed. "Nobody argues with Ianelle. She's very polite and has exquisite manners, but she has a sense about her that makes you feel very reluctant to cross her. She's alot like Triana that way." She popped a grape into her mouth. "And since the Sha'Kar all recognize me as the Keeper, it leaves the katzh-dashi that don't like me out on a breaking limb."

  The cook, Golin, scurried into the hall and bowed. "I'm sorry for the delay, my Keeper," he said. "It will be ready for you presently. How soft do you want the vegetables?"

  "It doesn't matter, Golin," she said calmly. "As long as the stew's hot, I'll be happy with it."

  "We'll keep a kettle on for you at all times from now on, my Keeper," he said in an embarassed tone. "You'll not catch us napping again."

  "It's the middle of the night, Golin," Jenna laughed. "I didn't really think you were napping to start with."

  "It's a matter of pride, my Keeper," he said honestly. "I pride myself on providing you with whatever you want, whenever you want it. I didn't have what you wanted on hand."