Belinda cleared her throat and then looked at Ito, who shrugged. “We’ve never taught anyone before, but generally the first lesson is about seeing what you can do. So, we’re going a few miles outside of the city.”
“That way, if something does go awry, no one else will be affected,” Belinda explained preemptively as I opened my mouth. “We probably won’t be out that long, but it’s always better safe than sorry.”
“Dusk isn’t for hours. Why won’t we be out long?” I demanded.
Belinda gave me a pained look. “In the same way that physical activity can drain your magical stores, excessive magical training—especially when you’re new to it—will tax you physically. Since we’re hunting tomorrow, it’s best to make this first lesson brief.”
I flushed at the too-patient tone she used as she explained her reasoning. Bobbing my head, I looked away from her and tugged a thin braid. That made sense, at least. They weren’t coddling me or holding back on training.
The massive green expanse of Dabsqin was a small line in the distance when we reached our destination. It was an oasis, and the company mages drew up to the watering hole and dismounted. I followed suit, patting Cinnamon with a murmured apology at bringing her out into the desert.
“You remember what we told Lady Famai,” Belinda said, bringing my attention to her, “about training you these past few months?”
“Yeah?” I asked, my hand still on the mare’s neck.
“That was true, in a way. They were little things—what herbs do what; different facts about stones, explaining what we did when we cast spells, and that sort of thing. Because of that, we think you have enough of the base knowledge to at least try a small bit of real magic with some simple tools.”
“So, we’ve brought a few items.” Ito slung his satchel off his shoulder and onto the ground. Crouching beside it, he began to pull things out as he named them. “A mirror, a candle, a crystal, a metal ball.”
Sinking next to him, I inspected each of the items as he laid them on a handkerchief that he had spread across the sand. The mirror was clearly old, the silver backing intricately designed, but tarnished. The candle was plain and white, the size of my thumb. The metal ball looked as though it would fit comfortably in the palm of my hand, and it was the cheery orange of copper. The crystal, slightly smaller, was see-through; my best guess was that it was quartz, though I was no expert in stones.
“Which one first?”
Belinda had settled beside us, and she looked comfortable in her cross-legged position on the sand. “Breathing comes first.”
I scowled, ready to argue, but Ito stopped me. “You must be in an even state to draw on your magic, especially when you are untrained. Otherwise it will behave erratically.”
“You don’t stop and breathe before you do magic,” I groused. My fingers stirred the sand at my side, pushing the granules into piles, and then smoothing the piles again.
“For someone like Ito, or myself, who have been studying our magic for more than a decade, drawing on it becomes second nature. Much like when Aedith or any other practiced warrior draws on their weapon. For a novice of any study, taking the time to breathe allows a person to become more intimately aware of where the magic is within them and to better control it.”
“Ok.” I plopped backward onto my bottom and mimicked her position. “So how would you like me to breathe?”
To my surprise, their instructions were similar to the “mindful breathing” that Nai had practiced back at home. After we each sat whatever way was most comfortable, I was instructed to try and relax my muscles. Then, eyes closed, I was to take deep, even breaths, and let the outside world go.
Unfortunately, it was harder than it had been the few times I’d tried it with Nai. For one thing, the sun was beating down on us mercilessly. I could feel sweat rolling down my back, and I had to shimmy to stop the tickling sensation. Luke had given me his sun balm earlier in the day before our ride, but I worried that I was going to burn anyway. Also, my body was tense all over. I had to keep reminding myself to unclench my fists, and my neck was so tight that I kept rolling my head around from shoulder to shoulder. I wanted to run or do some staff practice. That helped with making the fizzing stuff stop. This sitting and breathing did not.
Because, beyond all the normal physical irritants, there was one more. I had been experiencing for months now, and I finally had a name for. My magic was buzzing in my pulse points, clear and unmistakable. It was intrusive and more than uncomfortable. It made my guts swish around in my stomach. Every time my thoughts came back to where this magic had come from, I lost any scrap of calm that I had managed to collect.
Ito cleared his throat pointedly, and I forced myself to stop. Physical activity would not help me control this. I had been ignoring the magic before. This breathing stuff wasn’t about ignoring the magic, it was about training the magic. That was different. It was going to be harder. Taking another deep breath, I made a real effort to sink into the breathing and keep my movements to a minimum.
Belinda and Ito were patient. As the minutes crawled by and half a candle mark passed, they sat silently. When I cracked an eye to look at them, they were like statues. It was only when at last I had managed to drift into a disconnected calm, that didn’t break even when a fly landed on my cheek, that they gave me any more directions.
“Your magic flows through your veins,” Belinda murmured, and her voice seemed to come from inside of my head, “but, it stems from deeper within you. Follow the magic to your center.”
I had become aware of a dingy yellow color behind my eyelid. It branched across the blackness like a root system, down my arms and legs. The edges tapered into slivers where my fingers and toes would have been. The magic flowed and twisted in the tracts and looking at any one part for too long made me nauseous. At Belinda’s encouragement, I went against their current, toward my heart. There, a fist-sized pool glittered, like honey in the sunlight. To my mind it tasted like the pasture fields and like the mountains. It was fresh cut hay and the sticky sap of pine trees. It was like a warm patch of sunlight on a chilly spring day. I wanted to wrap myself up in it.
There was a smile in her voice when Belinda spoke next. “Good. You’ve found it.”
“The first task we will attempt is objectively the simplest,” Ito said. He, too, sounded as though he was speaking not from his lips, but inside my head. “Open your eyes, slightly, so you can see what you are focusing on.”
I obeyed, cracking my eyelids just a shade, so that the harsh sunlight was barely visible. Ito was holding the candle in front of me. He had straightened the wick so that it stood upright.
“Fire can be created through magic because unshaped magic is energy, and energy is hot naturally.” Belinda’s voice was soft and gentle, her lips barely moving. “When you confine some of your magic into a spot that cannot naturally contain so much energy, it overflows, as fire. Carefully, pull some of your magic out from within you. Let it flow into just the visible wick.”
Gnawing my lower lip, I cupped my hands around the wick. “Ok.”
I could do this. Already I could feel the magic within me, humming more intensely along my skin. It wanted to move. Tentatively, I touched the golden pool.
As though I had been slapped, I was struck with a flash of an image. I could feel the rough rub of coarse rope on my forearms. I could smell smoke. I could feel heat around my ankles. The entirety of my body, strapped tightly to a wooden post, convulsed in primal fear. I was burning! This wasn’t like the nightmares. I was awake, and my boots were hot where the flames were about to break through the minor protection they provided.
The wick lit. I didn’t see it, only felt it as the candle exploded, jolting me back to the desert. I flung myself backward, covering my face to defend it from melting wax. Panicked sobs bubbled out my lips as I cowered. I choked on one as someone touched my back gently.
“It’s ok,” Belinda said, obviously trying to sound reassuring, though her voice s
hook. “Hey—hey! Taryn, you’re all right.”
Cautiously, I lifted my head from the crook of my arms to look backward at her. She had yelled at the same time as me. I had heard her, though she had not dove out of the way as I had. Ito had thrown up a shield between us and the projectiles, and only a few bits had slipped past. The remaining wax slid strangely down that almost invisible haze of red. When he saw the destroyed candle was all the problem was, he relaxed marginally. His power melted and sank into the earth.
“The first attempts never go smoothly. You just have more power than a child would on their first attempts at magic, so it looks messier.”
I managed a weak grin. “Is that what you’d call this? Messy?”
She smiled. “No harm done. That’s why we start on candles anyway. Do you know what went wrong?”
My grin fell away. “Yeah.”
“What was it?” Ito prompted. Belinda shot him a look.
“We can help you fix whatever it was,” she reminded me. “It’s our job.”
“It was…” It had been a vision. I sent up a quick prayer to Slarrow as the realization hit me. He was the god of prophets as well as dreams, after all. I was no prophet, but I had just seen through my brother’s eyes as he burned to death. All these months I’d thought I’d merely been having nightmares, but this had been too real to be to be mistaken as such. I shook my head. “It was nothing. I pulled too much.”
“Would you like to try again?” Belinda asked. I hesitated. “We have more, but it doesn’t have to be another candle.”
“I’m sort of tired,” I hedged. “What else can I try?”
“Crystal next. You’ve seen Ito do this often enough. We want to see if you could call light into it.”
“How do I do that?”
Ito picked up the crystal and ran a hand over it. As he did so, light bloomed under its surface. “It is a lot like putting fire into the wick, only you remove the heat.”
“How can I remove the heat?” I asked nervously.
“It’s actually fairly simple,” Belinda said eagerly. “Once you practice, it’s as easy as breathing. You take the light and put it into the crystal, but in that same movement, you peel the heat away and you let it dissipate in the air. Or you can put it somewhere specific, but so long as the crystal you’re lighting up is small, then the air is usually fine.”
“Dissipate?”
“Like… melt away.”
I thought about it, then shook my head in the negative. “I’m sorry, Ito, Belinda. I am excited to begin our lessons, but can we just… leave it to talk, for now?”
Ito and Belinda glanced at each other. “Are you certain?” Ito asked. “The light may be even easier than the fire alone.”
I rubbed my arms, chilled, despite the lack of shade. “Yeah, um, since I’m obviously not great and pulling out only a little, it seems like the best plan. I don’t want to pull out too much and be too exhausted to fight tomorrow. I think I was overeager to demand to start today.”
“That makes sense, Ito. Perhaps we were overeager, beginning right away as well. Especially after the day we have all had. You and I can discuss ways to help her grip only small bits. It has been ages since I’ve had to consider the nuances of the basics.”
Ito rested a hand lightly on my shoulder. “You’re sure you’re all right?”
I rubbed my cheek. I wasn’t sure if it was wet from tears of fright or sweat. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
We stayed in the desert for another hour, discussing magic. I told them everything I could think of that might have been symptoms of repressed magic—everything except my dreams. They, in turn, explained ways to help calm the magic within me without spending it. They insisted that the breathing would help, eventually, and that I would be able to lock the magic into a tighter ball with some training, and we practiced that a little. We made plans of when next to meet and work together with me, and then we headed back to the inn.
I managed to make it through all of supper without being alone with Aella. I didn’t know what to say to her. I didn’t want to be mad at her—I didn’t want to be mad at any of Twelfth Company, but when it came to Aella I couldn’t help it.
Aella wasn’t some random person under Aedith’s command. She was my… sweetheart? Come to think of it, I wasn’t sure what to call her. We hadn’t talked about that part. Whatever the title though, we were close enough that she should have been honest with me. The fact that she hadn’t talked to me meant something in a way it just couldn’t for any other member of Twelfth Company. How could it not?
Luckily, she wasn’t the sort of person who would start a personal discussion in public, and the one time she attempted to signal for me to leave the table with her, I ignored it.
When the time for bed rolled around, there was no more avoiding her. I had hurried through my meal in order to get to the room ahead of her and change into my sleeping things. I was already in bed with the sheet pulled up over my ears when she made it back to the room.
When she came in the room, dark without even a candle left burning, she sighed audibly. She did her own evening ritual in the dark. It wasn’t until after I heard the creak of her sitting on the edge of her own bed that she actually spoke to me.
“Taryn, please talk to me.”
I didn’t answer. Perhaps if she believed I was asleep she would let it go. I ought to have known better.
“Taryn, I know you’re awake. You’re not snoring.”
I stiffened and exhaled a small gasp of indignation. She snorted. With the ruse blown, I turned further away from her. “I’m tired. I don’t feel like talking.”
“Come on!” She did her best to keep her voice low, but she couldn’t keep the ire out of it. “What are you even mad about?”
I had flipped off the sheet and turned to face her before I could stop myself. “You didn’t think maybe I’d want to know? That maybe I deserved to know what was happening to me?”
“I tried to help! I got you into physical training! Didn’t that help quiet it?”
I spoke through a tight jaw. “What would have helped would have been knowing why my veins felt like they had something marching through them. That would have helped.”
She was staring at her hands, which were clenched into fists on her knees. “I had my orders to follow.”
“Your orders?”
She whipped her head up to glare at me. “Yes. My orders, Taryn. I trusted that Ito and Belinda and my mother knew what was best when it came to strange magic. I’m sorry if that hurt your feelings.”
“You think you hurt my feelings?” I felt pinpricks in my eyes, but with all my strength I pushed the feeling back. How could I even begin to explain the feeling that had been building since I had realized she knew about the magic? The betrayal, the anger. The fear. “You may have trusted them, but I trusted you, and I am so sick of being lied to! After everything I’ve been through this year, I thought I could at least trust you! But I was wrong. You’re like the rest of them.”
She sat back, dumbstruck. “Taryn…”
“No. I told you. I don’t want to talk about it.” I met her eyes as I let each word inhabit its own space. “Everyone has their orders. Everyone is just doing what’s best for them or theirs, and I’m no one’s but my own, so of course I’m going to be the one who gets the short stick. You don’t trust me? That’s fine. I’ll fight for you people. I’ll learn to work this magic until I can get rid of it. But I don’t want to talk about any of it with you.”
I threw myself back onto my pillow and braced myself for another response from her, but it didn’t come. I heard the noises of her tucking herself under her own sheets with a sickly mixture of resentment and relief.
Her orders. Would I ever be more important than those? Would I ever come above her duty to her mother’s company? As I lay there fuming, I couldn’t help but see that even back in Nophgrin, the things I thought she had done for me had been for the company the whole time. The daring outing with the other youths?
A way of collecting information from stupid drunk mountain folks. Her helping me get away to go after my brother? Just a way of her making sure he could be gathered up by the rest of the company, who readily handed him over to the town to be burned. And now this. She had led me into physical training, knowing I’d have excess energy to burn off. So I could train harder and become a better fighter for the company? She had made me think I could trust her. All the while keeping something huge from me.
I waited until her breathing had evened out before I crept from the room. I was exhausted, but I couldn’t sleep, and I couldn’t stand the fact that she could. It just went to prove that she didn’t really care all that much. Certainly not enough to push the conversation. She was more than satisfied with letting it drop, even though I was still clearly upset.
The inn was dark except for lanterns that were left glowing low. It wasn’t until I was down in the stables that I met another soul. I had thoughts of brushing Cinnamon, and I wasn’t watching where I was going when I bumbled right into Lady Famai’s heavily robed servant.
“I’m sorry,” I said, automatically reaching out to steady the man.
It was a little unnerving. I couldn’t even see his eyes in the dim lighting, but his head reared back as he seemed to see who I was, and he jerked his arm from my hold. At his sides, his gloved hands were clenched into fists.
“I’m sorry,” I repeated, taking a few uncertain steps back, “I—” I had bumped into someone behind me. Turning, I reached a hand out in apology before I fully realized who I had run into this time. When I did, I stepped away from her, knocking into a hanging bucket. A few drops of water sloshed from within it to dampen my shoulder.
Lady Famai smoothed her hair backward, clearly just as surprised to see me as I was her. She was dressed much more simply than she had been in our past encounters, with her hair bound back in a simple horse-tail and a plain gray cloak draped over her spare frame. She squinted, as though to see me better in the low lighting.
Of Dragon Warrens and Other Traps Page 27