The clay exploded outward in a thousand tiny fragments. They struck the walls, her robes, and Master Hain. Where they struck, they seemed to melt into liquid, leaving tiny stains.
Master Hain chuckled. “What did I just say?” he said good-naturedly. “This is why we use clay. If this had been a solid rock that you shattered, we could have been seriously hurt. Never use more power than is necessary.” He pointed to the remaining chunks of clay. “Here are a few more. There’s a bucket under the table with still more. Take your time. Experiment. Learn the correct amount of magic to absorb for this task. What you did the second time was good. Practice until you can do that each time. Then clean up.”
“Yes, Master.” She picked up another chunk. Master Hain walked to the door, but stopped when she said, “Master? I know that a rock would be different, require different vibrations, but is there anything else that matters?”
He paused. “What do you mean?”
She held up the clay. “Well, this clay is brown. If it were red, would that matter?”
Master Hain furrowed his brow. “Red clay does have a slightly different consistency,” he said.
“Yes, but does the color matter?”
“Color? No, color makes no difference. Only the consistency, the density of the item. If you were to paint one of these pieces of clay red and the other blue, it would make no difference.”
Seri nodded. She had only asked because Dravid and Jamana would expect her to. It wasn’t the color of the item that mattered, but the colors of the light beams. Perhaps the colors corresponded to different levels of vibration, different amounts of power.
Master Hain turned to go again, but she had another question. “Master?”
“Yes?” His response was almost a sigh.
“I, that is, you talked about how we could feel the Lords when they arrived. What about the Eldanim? I could sense him yesterday.”
“Ah, yes. I neglected to mention that. The Eldanim are creatures of magic, of course.”
“Yes, but it… it frightened me. He felt… wrong.”
“You are one day into this profession and already you know what is wrong?”
Seri blushed. “I don’t mean to question you, Master. It was just–”
He raised a hand to stop her. “No, no. You are an intelligent young woman and asking questions is one of the ways you get there. I apologize.” He reflected for a moment. “The Eldanim are a different kind of magic than that which is of the land. It will feel different. Different is not necessarily wrong. Let your senses grow and develop. Your discomfort should work itself out. Now. Resume your practice.”
Once Master Hain had left, she put aside the questions and tried again. She found another red beam and duplicated her previous success. With that taken care of, she set out to experiment. She soon figured out that shades of red, orange and yellow were ideal for this exercise, whereas the darker colors - green, blue, purple - were too powerful. In fact, one bluish-purple beam felt so strong that she held the clay up in the air above her before releasing it. At least one piece of the clay smashed a hole in the window, while the others impacted the walls at high speeds. On the other end of the spectrum, a reddish-purple beam had so little power that the clay didn’t explode. It liquified in her hand and ran down between her fingers.
In the end, she made quite a mess of the room. She looked around and laughed. Splatters of mud and pieces of clay coated the walls, floor, ceiling, table and door. Time to find a broom and a few other supplies.
“Too bad I can’t clean up with magic,” she said, and laughed again. Ordinarily, she’d be annoyed at being tasked with this kind of job, but for now, it didn’t matter. She could do magic!
Seri was a mage.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
THE TREBIA RIVER had not slowed its flow in the week since they had crossed it. If anything, it ran higher and faster than before. Marshal looked at the swift moving river and shuddered. He did not relish another dip in that frigid water.
“How are we going to cross?” Victor asked.
“We’ll walk,” Talinir said. “We just have to find the right spot. If we can’t find one this morning, we’ll have to wait until evening. Afternoons are more dangerous.”
“Why is that?”
Talinir pointed at the water. “The river rises as the snow melts in the mountains, but snow melts slowly. In the afternoons, however, there’s a greater chance of thunderstorms along the route. That can increase the flow quickly and dramatically.”
Aelia frowned. “Surely you don’t expect us to wade through this?”
“Oh, no. As I said, we just have to find the right spot.”
Aelia looked dubious, but she followed as Talinir set out along the river bank, continuing their southeasterly trek. The bank here was a gentle slope, not at all like the high cliffs near Efesun.
“Are we looking for the narrowest spot?” Victor asked.
“Not necessarily. The narrow spots may be the deepest and fastest. However, if I remember correctly, the river widens ahead and grows shallower. That may be our spot.”
Marshal admired the foliage as they walked. Many of the trees along the bank exploded with new leaves. Spring had advanced so much more than when they left Drusa’s Crossing weeks ago. It gave him a warm feeling that didn’t come from the sun, especially when he thought about the thrummers from the night before. The world wasn’t all despair and pain. Sometimes it held beauty too.
“Ah, up there, see?” Talinir pointed, but Marshal couldn’t see what he saw. The Eldani warden ran ahead of the others, around a gentle curve in the river.
The humans caught up with him and saw the river had widened out around ten feet. But at its widest, it also became much shallower. The river bed was clearly visible. At its deepest, it couldn’t be more than two feet.
“Even at knee deep, we’ll be freezing after only a couple of steps,” Aelia said.
“We’ll make a fire on the other side, but it shouldn’t be that bad,” Talinir answered. He hurried on ahead and took a step out onto a rock the others hadn’t noticed.
“You see? There are plenty of rocks through here. There’s only a couple of places where we’ll even have to jump a little. Come on!”
Victor gave Marshal a skeptical look, then followed Talinir’s lead. Aelia gestured for Marshal to go next and she came last. Despite Talinir’s assurances, all of them slipped at various points and got both feet thoroughly wet and cold. With the warden’s guiding hands, however, no one fell in.
As soon as they reached the other side, all of them set to work getting a fire started while they shivered. It didn’t take long before they had their bare feet stretched out to the roaring blaze. With their chilled toes thawed out, they all relaxed.
Marshal couldn’t help noticing that Talinir’s toes appeared just as angular as the rest of him. His smallest toes were almost pointed. Yet another reminder of the Eldanim’s strangeness.
“Ohhhh.” Victor lay back on the grass. “I think my feet could catch on fire and I wouldn’t even notice. It’ll be fine.”
Aelia looked around and up at the sky. “Reman must be almost due east of here,” she said.
Talinir nodded. “Yes. Perhaps a little bit to the southeast.”
“So we have a straight path from here?” Victor asked.
“Oh, no. There are no straight paths, at least not lengthy ones. We’ll weave in and out of the hills, villages, farmlands, forests and so much more between here and there. We’ll cross a few streams, but nothing as big as the Trebia, at least until we get to Reman.”
With his feet warmed, Marshal discovered an annoying itch on the instep of his left foot. He tried scratching it. When that didn’t work, he took out the dagger and scraped at it. He could feel the pressure of the blade’s tip, but it didn’t cut his skin. For the first time, he had tested the spell, somewhat. At least he satisfied the itch.
“Careful. Don’t cut yourself,” Aelia warned.
Victor and Marsha
l’s eyes met. Marshal narrowed his. Now was not the time to tell her. But he knew Victor would bring it up again soon. Somehow, he waited until the evening. While Aelia and Talinir held a lengthy discussion about politics in the six lands, Victor got up and beckoned Marshal to join him some distance from the fire.
“Have you even tested it yet?” he asked.
Marshal frowned.
“The magic thing,” Victor said. “You know, the protection spell or whatever that the Eldanim put on you.” He pointed toward the spot on Marshal’s chest.
Shake is no.
“Aren’t you curious?”
Marshal glanced back at his mother. She seemed completely preoccupied with the conversation. He took out Volraag’s dagger. Victor looked as if Marshal had brought out a plate of Indala’s fried chicken. It made him smile in spite of it all.
Marshal aimed the point of the dagger at his left palm, hesitated, then moved it down to the palm heel. He pressed gently. He could feel the pressure, but the point did not pierce his skin. He pressed harder. Still nothing.
“You sure that thing is sharp?”
Marshal offered the dagger to Victor. He tested the tip on his own forearm and drew blood almost immediately. “Yeah, I’d say it’s sharp. This is the dagger the Lord’s son gave you? Your half-brother?”
Nod is yes. It still felt odd to think of Volraag as his half-brother, though.
Victor moved the dagger through the air a few times. “Nice.” He eyed Marshal. “Want me to really test it?” He slammed the dagger down into the ground. The blade disappeared all the way into the dirt. Victor pulled it back out and brushed it off. “Should I try to do that to your hand or something?”
Marshal grimaced. He shook his head and reached for the dagger. Victor handed it back with clear reluctance.
“Maybe I’ll really try to stab you with my sword when Talinir isn’t watching.”
Marshal rolled his eyes. He stabbed the dagger down onto his thigh, not full force, but hard enough that it would have ordinarily pierced him. Instead, it bounced off. It didn’t stop him from feeling the impact, though. He rubbed that spot on his leg. If someone did try to stab him, it would probably give him a significant bruise.
But the spell protected him from cutting. He drew the blade along his arm, from wrist to elbow. Nothing.
“Edin Na Zu,” Victor said. “First you get these crazy magic powers because you’re the son of a Lord. Now you’ve got a magic shield in your skin. Some guys just get everything, I guess.”
Marshal looked at him in disbelief. He pointed at his own face. Everything? He pointed at his mouth, his throat.
Victor grimaced with a weak frown. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I wasn’t thinking. You got the sorry end of the magic, too.”
Marshal traced his facial scars from the curse-stalker.
“Yes, I know! I was there! And you’re not the only one to get hurt, you know.”
Marshal scowled at him.
Victor unlatched his own tunic with jerky movements. He pulled it open. A lengthy scar gashed across his chest, still red, still not fully healed.
“The Eldanim cured you completely,” he said. “But they did nothing for me besides a little ointment and bandages. Or did you forget about that assassin cutting me?”
Actually, Marshal had forgotten it. That had been way back when the assassin attacked them the first time beside the Trebia. The ensuing fall into the river, meeting Talinir and so on, had driven it completely out of his memory. He closed his eyes and bowed his head. He reminded himself that Victor had no desire to be on this trip in the first place. He wouldn’t be here at all if not for the Binding.
Victor sighed and latched his tunic back up. “I’m sorry, Marshal. I know it’s still nothing compared to your troubles. I just… don’t feel like you’re the only one, all right?”
Nod is yes. Definitely yes.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
JAMANA’S EXPERIENCE WITH Master Korda’s training was far different from Seri’s.
“I don’t understand what you are saying,” he said. “I saw no beams of light.”
“I know you didn’t,” Seri said. “You wouldn’t be able to. I’m trying to tell you that I’m different.”
“But I can feel the magic,” Jamana objected. “I can channel it, too. I destroyed seventeen balls of dirt.” He gestured at a few intact balls on the table beside him.
“Clay,” Seri corrected automatically.
“So I do not understand. Why do you need the light beams?”
“I don’t need them. I mean… I don’t know. I’m just different. That’s all.” She closed her eyes, concentrated a moment, then opened. “I can see them now. All the colors. They’re shooting out from underneath. They’re–” She stopped and cocked her head. Had that beam curved? “What are you doing?”
“Me?” Jamana held out his hands in confusion. “I am doing nothing.”
“That’s strange.” An orange beam of light emerged from the ground near Jamana’s feet and curved as it passed by him. It curved inward, towards Jamana’s body, but then turned back outward and shot away.
“What is strange?”
“I– It’s not important. Never mind.”
Jamana picked up a chunk of clay and tossed it in the air. “Shall we go tell Dravid of our new abilities?”
“Maybe tomorrow,” Seri said. “It’s already getting late.” She eyed the clay, wondering if she could break it apart without touching it.
“I don’t know if I will be able to sleep tonight,” Jamana said. He focused on the clay and it crumbled apart. “Eighteen!”
“And now you have to clean up again.” Seri laughed.
Jamana shrugged. “It is worth it, I am thinking.”
Seri walked to the window and looked out. She had hidden in her room for most of Rest Day, then spent this day with Master Hain until now. Through it all, she had managed to avoid any sight or sense of Curasir. But she couldn’t avoid him forever, could she?
“Curasir said I was the main reason he was here,” she said aloud. “He’s not going to stop looking for me.”
“That does make it awkward.”
“But would confronting him actually do any good?”
“I am still of the opinion that you should talk to the Masters.”
“I tried. Master Hain wasn’t concerned. He said I needed more time before I could understand these things.”
“You do not become a Master Mage without much wisdom,” Jamana said. He paused. “Though there are times I think that Master Korda has lost some of his with age.” He chuckled.
“Yes, I know, I know. They’re wise. I accept that.” Seri paced in a circle. “But it’s all so wrong. He came to my bedroom. He followed me around. His power is, is… I don’t know. It’s strange and weird and scary. And what was he doing in the Inner Sanctum?”
Jamana looked down. Seri stopped pacing and looked at him. “What? What are you thinking?”
Jamana spread his arms out and looked at her. “I believe you, Seri. And I will support you. But look at this from another perspective. Go through your list. Everything there could be explained away. There may not be a problem at all.”
He was right and she knew it. Everything could be explained by cultural differences and her inexperience with magic. She had no substantive proof making Curasir sinister in any way. It was all based on feelings.
“Devouring fire.”
It was so rare for Seri to curse, and she said it with such vehemence that Jamana erupted in laughter. He lost his balance and sat down on the floor.
“I’m glad I amuse you,” Seri growled.
It took several moments before Jamana could control himself enough to answer. “Oh, Seri-Belit. I have not laughed that hard since coming to this island.”
“It’s true, though. I am a… an akkanu!”
Jamana laughed some more. “I don’t even know what that is, but to hear it from your mouth is funny!”
“It’s true! I worked so
hard to get here, studied so much, and look at me! I’m throwing out all logic and reasoning over a bad feeling!”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Jamana said. “He did do some strange things. But–”
“But they might make sense from his point of view. I know, I know. Argh!”
Seri grabbed one of Jamana’s clay balls and threw it at the wall. At the same time, she blinked and activated her star-sight. Before the ball hit, she snatched a violet beam of light and launched it in the same direction. One inch from the wall, the clay exploded with far more force than she had anticipated. One piece struck her left shoulder and spun her around.
Jamana’s joviality vanished. He jumped to his feet and hurried to her side. “Are you all right?”
Seri winced and felt her shoulder. She could already tell she would have a bad bruise. “I’ll be fine,” she said.
Jamana looked at the wall. “You are lucky you were so far from it,” he said. He moved closer and stared. Curious, Seri stepped up next to him. At the spot where the clay ball had exploded, the wall was smeared with dirt. But that wasn’t what drew Jamana’s stare. He reached up and inserted his finger into a hole. “How does dirt make a hole in stone?” he asked.
“Maybe it was already there?”
Jamana shook his head and looked at her. “What did you do?”
CHAPTER FORTY
“I RECEIVED AN interesting report from Master Korda this morning,” Master Hain said without a greeting. He sat waiting at his desk when Seri reported to him the morning after her first day of magic.
Seri’s heart sank. Jamana had promised to clean up the mess, but Master Korda had certainly noticed the hole in the wall. And, of course, Jamana was not the best at keeping a secret.
“Magic is not a plaything, nor is it for showing off,” Master Hain said, a dark expression clouding his face. “I had hoped that you would understand that, acolyte.”
“Yes, Master. I’m sorry, Master.”
“Unless I have given you explicit leave, or you have graduated from my training, you are never to use your power around others. Do you understand me?”
Until All Curses Are Lifted Page 22