Secrets and Spellcraft

Home > Fantasy > Secrets and Spellcraft > Page 3
Secrets and Spellcraft Page 3

by Michael G. Manning


  Professor Dulaney stood behind the podium and gazed at the class without saying a word. Unlike the previous teachers, he didn’t bother calling roll. He simply stared at them for a long minute until the students began to shift nervously in their seats. Then he turned and picked up a piece of chalk and began to draw a diagram on the blackboard.

  A cross with arms of equal length appeared first, and the old man labeled each of the ends, putting a ‘P’ at the top, an ‘N’ at the bottom, an ‘O’ on the left, and a ‘C’ on the right. Then he stepped a few feet to the left and wrote the word ‘turyn.’ “Forget everything you think you know about turyn. In fact, it might be better for you if you haven’t learned anything.” He set the chalk down and stared at the class, appraising them. Finally, he asked, “Would any of you like to venture as to guess what the labels on graph represent?”

  Will had no idea, so he kept his mouth firmly closed. No one else volunteered either. After a short time, the professor sighed. “All right. Perhaps I’m moving too quickly. Would one of you like to tell the class what you think turyn is?”

  “Energy,” someone said in the back.

  “Yes, but that doesn’t begin to cover it. Who else?”

  “Magic,” offered someone else.

  Dulaney rubbed a hand over his face in frustration. “Single-word answers only supply a different label. I want a description, something with some meaning—an answer that attempts to wrestle with the question. Would someone else like to try?”

  Once again ignoring the instincts the army had taught him, Will volunteered. “It’s the vital energy that all living beings produce—humans, animals, and plants. It’s the energy that catalyzes our motion and enacts our thoughts and will upon the material world, whether through physical motion or magical effects.” He felt rather proud of himself for remembering Arrogan’s lesson.

  Professor Dulaney studied him intently for a second. “Excellent answer, Mister—what is your name?”

  “Cartwright, sir. William Cartwright.”

  The teacher nodded. “I applaud your effort to meet my expectations. You are only half correct, however.”

  Will frowned. He was damn well certain he was absolutely right.

  Dulaney smiled faintly. “Would someone like to give me names for the ends of the graph? The letters are place holders. What do you think they represent?” When no one answered, he urged them on. “This will be a very boring lecture if no one steps up. I’m perfectly happy to stand here and have a staring contest for the rest of the hour.”

  Finally, a girl in the front row made an attempt. “The elements, fire, water, earth, and air?”

  “No,” said the professor smugly. “But thank you for helping move the lecture forward, Miss…?”

  “Rebecca Swafford.”

  “Very good. No, the axes of this graph represent a continuum that runs between positive and negative, chaos and order.” He pointed at the letters. “The primal elements that you’ve been so conditioned to think about are actually general areas found between these extremes.” He pointed to the top right quadrant. “Fire would be here, falling in the area between positive and chaotic.” Next he pointed at the bottom right, then the bottom left, and finally the top left quadrants. “Water, earth, and air, respectively. From what I have shown you so far, Mister Cartwright’s answer is fully correct, but there’s more.”

  Professor Dulaney drew a diagonal line across the cross. “For those of you with enough math experience, this represents the z-axis, making this a three-dimensional graph. Think of it as extending out toward you, and back through the blackboard away from you. This axis represents the polarity of turyn. Coming toward you, the turyn becomes more vital, more in tune with life. Past the center and moving away, turyn takes on qualities of the void, the antithesis of life.

  “Mister Cartwright, can you tell me now why your definition wasn’t complete?”

  Will nodded. “Because the only turyn I referenced was turyn of the vital sort. I wasn’t aware of the other sort.”

  Dulaney nodded. “Actually, this graph oversimplifies things. The vitality-void axis isn’t a gradient. It’s an either-or shift. Turyn can only be of one type or the other. The two don’t coexist. To be candidly honest, the positive-negative axis is similar in that regard, but the two types can coexist. In the case of the positive-negative axis what we are describing is the overall mixture of positive or negative charge.”

  Some of the students’ eyes had glazed over, but Will was rapt with his attention. If only Arrogan had explained it like this. Of course, back then he still hadn’t learned anything about graphs, so perhaps it wouldn’t have helped.

  The professor continued, “Turyn has three basic properties, which we can show on this graph, but a better way to describe it is as a wave.” He drew several wavy lines on the board. The top line had wide peaks and valleys, while those beneath it were closer together. The bottom line was a frenetic scrawl. Then he marked two peaks on the broad, top-most line. “The distance between two peaks or two valleys is called the wavelength. Turyn on the order side of our graph has longer wavelengths and less overall inherent energy.” Then he pointed at the squiggly bottom line. “Turyn with very short wavelengths is on the chaotic end and possesses a higher inherent energy.

  “The positive axis represents the fact that turyn can have a positive charge or a negative charge. Whenever someone produces turyn from their inner gate, it is usually a mixture of positively and negatively charged turyn. The overall ratio is represented by the y-axis on our original graph.” Dulaney paused to take a breath.

  “Would anyone like to take a stab at what the vital-void differences are?” After several unsuccessful attempts, the professor explained. “A wave also has a quality called polarity. Imagine the lines that I just drew. All of them go up and down. If those are of the vital-type, then the void-type waves move back and forth at a ninety-degree angle.”

  Rebecca raised her hand. “If the only type of turyn found in living creatures is of the vital type, how do you know the void type exists?”

  The professor smiled at her. “That is an excellent question. Would anyone like to guess?”

  Without thinking, Will answered, “Demons. They have black turyn.”

  The teacher stared at him for a moment in surprise. “Where did you learn that?”

  “I saw a demon in Barrowden,” he said sheepishly, realizing how ridiculous it sounded. “It had black turyn that burned whenever it touched someone.”

  Dulaney gaped. “You saw a demon? How do you expect us to—”

  “I was in the army, Professor,” interrupted Will. “There was a Priest of Madrok in Barrowden when we entered the village.”

  The professor blinked. “Oh. Very well, I’ll accept your statement as fact, incredible as it is. However, I have to inform you that turyn doesn’t have colors.”

  “But it was black, sir.”

  “Could you actually see its turyn?”

  “Yes, sir. It wasn’t anything like the turyn other people have,” said Will.

  “I’ll need to see you after class, Mister Cartwright,” said Dulaney. “As to colors, I can explain that for everyone’s benefit now. While it is true that once your ability to see turyn is awakened it appears to have colors, there is a reason we don’t rely on color to describe it. Humans are not ordinarily born able to see turyn, so our brains haven’t developed a regular system for experiencing it as we have for our other senses. Where one person might see black or green, for example, someone else might see yellow or purple. This is one of the main reasons we developed other methods for studying and describing its properties.”

  The teacher pointed at the back, where someone had raised their hand. “Yes. You have a question?”

  The class continued, and while Will listened eagerly, he couldn’t help but wonder what the teacher wanted to see him about. Hopefully it wouldn’t be because of his remark about demons. He had left his description of the circumstances deliberately vague, since he d
oubted anyone would believe he had gone into Barrowden with only one other person.

  When the bell finally sounded and everyone filed out, he stopped in front of the podium anxiously.

  Dulaney spoke once the auditorium was empty. “You’re not in trouble, Mister Cartwright. I merely wanted to enquire about your ability to see turyn. Ordinarily, we don’t take students through the ritual to open their eyes until the end of the first year. How did it happen?”

  Unwilling to talk about his first meeting with the fae, Will simplified the story. “My mother is a midwife. I was searching for herbs and mistook diviner’s sage for regular sage. When I tasted some, it made me hallucinate. Afterward I started seeing turyn.”

  The professor nodded. “Unusual, but not unheard of. Normally a person has to be exposed to several such events before the sight fully manifests.”

  Will said nothing. He definitely didn’t want to talk about his near-death experience.

  “About this demon you saw. You’re very lucky to be alive. What happened?”

  “There was a sorceress nearby who slew it, but she was wounded. I saw the black turyn beneath her skin. It seemed to cause her a great deal of pain,” said Will.

  “Dying is usually painful,” said Dulaney. “How long did she survive?”

  “I don’t think she died,” said Will. “I think someone helped her.”

  The professor scoffed. “Trust me, young man. She’s dead now. Demonic turyn is invariably fatal.”

  “But I saw her get up,” argued Will. “She even fought some more after that.”

  “How long did you observe her after that?”

  Not long, thought Will. A half an hour, maybe? “She disappeared a little while later. I’m not sure where she went.”

  “Then she died somewhere else,” said Dulaney. “Void turyn isn’t compatible with living creatures. Even a small amount will continue to damage a person over time until it eventually kills them.”

  But I pulled it out of her, thought Will. I converted it. She has to be fine. “Couldn’t her body have transformed it into normal turyn?” he suggested.

  The professor shook his head. “People can’t change turyn. That’s why we make transducers.”

  “Transducers?”

  “You’ll learn about those in your classes on Artifice next year. For the time being I will have to see about having you take an additional class. Since you’ve already got the sight you can go ahead and start learning spellcraft once you’ve been typed.”

  “Typed?”

  The older man nodded. “As much as I dislike using elements to describe turyn, they remain an apt description of the various mixtures people produce. It’s different for each person, which affects how efficiently you can create and cast various spells. All spells require different types of turyn, so if your gate produces only a small amount of that type you wind up spending more of your overall turyn to get enough to make a particular spell work. By determining your type, you can avoid trying to use spells you aren’t suited for and focus on those that are better aligned with what your type of turyn is.”

  “Seems like a lot of trouble.”

  “Not when it helps you to live longer. If you go about using spells that don’t match your type, it costs you a greater amount of turyn, and that means you’ll be wasting your life needlessly.”

  Lost in thought, Will didn’t reply. Everything the professor had said about types and affinities was in direct opposition to what he had learned from Arrogan. His grandfather had said nothing about affinities. He wasn’t sure that meant it wasn’t true, though. Intuitively he felt that perhaps the nature of his early training had made such distinctions irrelevant. He knew he could change turyn from one type into another. He did it when he pulled it from another person into himself, otherwise he would be stricken with nausea. He had done it when he drew the demonic turyn from Selene, otherwise he would have died.

  In fact, he was probably doing it even now, since his source was kept reduced to a level far below what was ordinarily necessary to sustain life. He drew turyn from the environment around him and converted it into whatever mixture he needed to live.

  Without that ability, the wizards of Wurthaven were literally burning their own lives to produce spells and create magical effects. Given that circumstance, it made sense that they would employ every possible advantage to make the most of what they spent.

  Chapter 4

  Will’s after-class meeting with Professor Dulaney meant he had to run to reach the Alchemy building in time for class. Unlike many of the other buildings, the Alchemy building was broad and squat, with only two floors and a deep basement. As he got closer, he could see a multitude of stone chimneys protruding from the roof. He learned later that most of them weren’t actual chimneys for fireplaces but instead ventilated fumes from the workrooms.

  Once he found the classroom, he immediately noticed another major difference. Rather than an auditorium, the Alchemy class was in a large room with heavy, blacktopped tables spread evenly throughout. The tables had two sinks set within them at either end, and several shiny metal objects stuck up from the center, as well as a few mysterious small holes.

  The holes made sense. Arrogan’s workshop table had them as well, places where he could mount metal rods to support glassware at varying heights. The other metal protuberances he wasn’t sure about. They appeared to have handles, which meant they could be opened to allow either a liquid or a gas to flow from them. Will wasn’t sure which.

  The instructor made it clear, though, during his introductory speech. One of the valves opened to supply clean water, the second provided a flammable gas for use with burners, and the third supplied a vacuum, or more accurately a negative air pressure. Will understood the concept, but he’d never had access to something like it before. Arrogan’s workroom was much more primitive by comparison.

  Their teacher was a man in his thirties named Aaron Karlovic, and he was notable for the fact that his attire was simple and neat. Unlike the other professors, he wore no robe, no necktie, and the sleeves of his shirt were tightly cuffed around his wrists. He began his lecture by explaining his attire.

  “As you may have noticed, my clothes have no loose ends or voluminous elements. Beginning tomorrow, make sure you emulate this. Also, I would advise you not to wear anything you feel any personal attachment to. In the closet to the left you’ll find aprons, gloves, masks, and eye protection, but there will inevitably be accidents.

  “Anything you wear into this class runs the risk of being stained, bleached, or worse. If you get something particularly nasty on your clothes, you may even be forced to remove them and have them burned. For this reason, you should consider keeping a spare set of cheap clothing here in the classroom. I will be assigning personal lockers for that purpose at the end of class.

  “Today will be entirely devoted to orienting you and explaining safety procedures,” continued the instructor. “You’ll also be assigned a partner, so if you have any preferences be prepared to present them to me when we get to that point.”

  Instructor Karlovic then began demonstrating the emergency shower and wash stations they would use in the event of an accident, along with a warning that in certain disastrous circumstances water should also be avoided. “On days that we deal with substances which you do not want to come into contact with water there will be specific instructions given, so always make sure to pay careful attention to the warnings given at the beginning of every class.

  “Before we start assigning partners, are there any among you who already have some experience with alchemical procedures? I ask so that I don’t inadvertently pair up two students who both have good working knowledge. I prefer to match experience with inexperience to help you all to learn faster.”

  Will raised his hand.

  “Name?”

  “William Cartwright.”

  “How much experience have you had?”

  “My mother is a midwife, so I learned a lot about herbs and medicine
from her. I also spent some time with my grandfather who had a small workshop,” answered Will.

  “Are you familiar with a balance scale?” Will nodded. “Units of measurement?” The questions went on and began to get rather detailed as the professor asked him about titration, measurement, and a host of other basics. When Will answered all of those to his satisfaction, he ended by asking, “Have you learned stoichiometry?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Meet me after class, Mister Cartwright. I won’t be assigning you a partner.”

  Consequently, Will was forced to stand by quietly while the instructor spent the rest of the class quizzing the students and matching them up into pairs. Once again, he felt the eyes of his classmates studying him with barely disguised curiosity. When the class was finally over and they had all filed out, he wondered what Professor Karlovic would tell him.

  “You won’t be coming to this class anymore,” said the instructor without preamble.

  “Sir?”

  “It would be a waste of time. I don’t doubt there may be a few holes in your knowledge, but the majority of this class would bore you to tears. Instead, I’d like you to work as a lab assistant for me on Tuesdays and Thursdays. You could earn a few coins and gain some experience.”

  Will’s only response was a blank stare.

  Professor Karlovic rushed to add, “Of course, you’ll also get credit for the class. Depending on how skilled you are, I might exempt you from the second-year Alchemy class too.”

  “How much time will you need me in the lab?”

  “Two hours twice a week. In the beginning it will be drudge work, cleaning glassware, that kind of thing, but once I’ve gained confidence in your work, I’ll put you to more gainful tasks.” The instructor smiled.

  A wave of relief washed over Will. Not only would he gain an extra free hour each week, but he would be paid. He had a feeling he would need the time to survive his Composition class. “Thank you, Professor. I’ll do my best.”

 

‹ Prev