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A Slave to Magic Page 2


  One painting featured an unruly child, which the artist had chosen to depict truthfully. He appeared to be tugging at his mother’s tail, the expression on her face showing her chagrin. Kwil couldn’t suppress his amusement, and he laughed out loud, the sound echoing from the walls. Quickly slapping a hand over his mouth, he turned his head to see if anyone had heard. To his relief, no one was there.

  There were only two doors on the third floor, and he hurried toward the one on the left. To his delight, it appeared he had chosen correctly. Inside was an abundance of furniture, all covered with white sheets to keep away the dust. Shaking out the sheet that covered the bed, he observed the plushness of the mattress beneath. Placing his hand on the bed, he pushed down, wondering what it must be like to sleep in such luxury.

  As he looked around, he observed a thick layer of dust on every sheet. This was exactly the sort of task he was waiting for. Returning to the door, he focused his mind to the latch, willing it to move into position. With an audible click, the door locked. Kwil smiled to himself, satisfied that no one would enter and find him practicing magic. Cracking his knuckles, he positioned his hands and looked at the sheet covering the desk. Slowly the sheet began to move, drawing itself away from the furniture beneath. It hung briefly in midair before dropping to the ground.

  Kwil frowned, wondering what had gone wrong. This was a spell he performed often, and he shouldn’t have had any trouble with it. Bending to pick up the fallen sheet, he sneezed, blowing dust all around him. Could a layer of dust be inhibiting the sheet’s movement? It seemed far-fetched, but he knew little of the intricacies of magic. It was possible that many minute details could affect it.

  Deciding to clear the dust away first, Kwil reached for a broom. As he gripped the handle, he realized that dust was no different from any other object. In fact, it was much smaller and lighter. Focusing his mind, he concentrated on the dust that had settled upon the sheet covering a nearby chair. The dust rose in a small cloud, the gray particles dancing and swirling as they moved. Kwil fought back his excitement as it floated across the room, making its way to a trash bin in the corner. As it fell in place, Kwil celebrated quietly to himself. Next, he lifted the formerly dusty sheet, bringing it carefully to his arms to be folded. The delicate work of folding the sheet could not be done with magic. At least, not yet. Fine movements were difficult, and it took a lot of practice. If he had days to clean the room, he would certainly give folding a try. For now, he was content with moving dust and sheets.

  Kwil continued cleaning in this manner, celebrating small victories, and confounding himself with his failures. With no master wizard to guide him, he might never perfect his art, but that didn’t stop him from trying. The cleaning went on for hours until a rattling came from the door. His concentration broken, the final bits of dust scattered across the bedroom floor.

  “Who’s in there?” a female voice asked from outside the door.

  Rushing to the door, Kwil quickly opened the latch and lowered his head.

  “About time,” the woman said. She leaned down to look at his face. “You new here?” she asked.

  Kwil nodded, taking his first look at the lady before him. She was a youthful Gatan with tricolored fur. Flecks of gold highlighted her darker sections, and splashes of white added personality to her coat. Instead of the dresses worn by most women, she wore a buff-colored blouse with brown trousers. Her pale green eyes stared at the young man intently.

  “Do you always lock the door when you’re cleaning?” she asked, observing the stack of neatly folded sheets.

  “Forgive me, Mistress,” he said.

  “Pffft,” she replied, waving her hand. She shoved her way past him, gently setting a wooden case on her bed. As she placed a bundle of books on her desk, she said, “Call me Nera, not Mistress.”

  Kwil stammered over his words, unsure of the correct way to reply. “It is forbidden,” he managed to say.

  “Then call me that when no one else can hear you, okay?” she replied. “Looks like you missed a spot,” she added, grinning and pointing to the dust pile on the floor.

  Kwil quickly dropped to his knees and swept up the dust, placing it inside the bin. Bundling the sheets, he bowed and made his way back to the door. Shifting the load to one side, he reached for the door. As his arm lifted, he bumped into the books piled on the desk, knocking two of them to the floor. Immediately he dropped to retrieve them, his eyes falling on the titles of the books. All of them were about wizardry.

  Gently caressing the covers as he placed them neatly in a stack, he could hardly pull himself away. Here before him was the information he desperately craved, information that could teach him how to properly cast spells.

  “Have you finished yet?” Nera called from behind him.

  Seduced by the sight of the books, he had momentarily forgotten where he was. Clearing his throat he replied, “Yes, Mist—Nera.”

  Nera smiled. “Close the door on your way out,” she commanded. Turning her back to him, she focused her attention to the case on her bed.

  Kwil took one more longing glance at the books before exiting. Pulling the door shut behind him, his hand rested a moment on the handle. He must find a way to read those books, even if it meant stealing them. Being caught could cost him his life, but without those books, he would feel as if he’d died anyway. The magic inside those pages called to him, beckoning him to the knowledge within.

  * * * *

  For several hours, Kwil busied himself scrubbing every inch of Nera’s washing room. Unable to concentrate long enough to use magic, he worked directly with his hands instead. Only steps across the corridor was the knowledge he craved. How could he steal the books without causing suspicion? And where could he possibly hide them? Shaking his head, he tried to force the idea away. With Nera back home, it was likely he’d be sent daily to tend her room. That would be his chance to read while leaving the books where they belonged.

  Back and forth Kwil moved his mop over the same spot of floor he had already cleaned. Nera had to leave her room eventually. Even if there was no time to learn this evening, he wanted to touch the books at least one more time before going to bed. Hoping she would demand a change of bedclothes or that something hadn’t been completed to her liking, he waited for her voice to call out to him. To his disappointment, she did not.

  After what felt like an eternity, he heard a small click of a door. Peeking out into the hallway, he saw Nera walking away. It must be dinnertime, he realized. His stomach was tied in knots, so he hadn’t become hungry yet himself. The only nourishment he craved was in those books. Leaning out to observe, he watched as Nera made her way to the stairs and disappeared out of sight. This was his chance.

  Dropping his mop to the ground, he raced across the hallway and let himself into the young woman’s room. The books lay unmoved on the desk where he had left them. Snatching up the first volume, his eyes greedily ran over the pages as his heart pounded against his chest. This particular book focused on basic elements, magic that was unknown to Kwil. As he skimmed the pages, he caught snippets of advice on pulling magic from the elements that surround a wizard. Such magic seemed practical, but Kwil felt no connection to any element. How did one discover which element controlled his powers? Continuing to flip through the pages, he saw passages about wizards who could manipulate two or more elements. Smiling to himself, he hoped he would be able to do that someday.

  Moving on to the next book, his eyes drank in the title: A Beginner’s Guide to the Arcane. Clutching the volume to his chest, he knew he had found gold. Carefully opening to the first chapter, he stared at the words on the page. The writing was in the common tongue, but the spells were written in foreign characters, followed by a pronunciation guide. To his great disappointment, he realized he needed to go further back and study the correct language. The other two books on the desk were written in this language as well. Where would he find something that could teach him these words?

  With a sigh, Kwil near
ly set the beginner’s book aside, but his hand would not let go. Taking a deep breath, he opened it once more and flipped to the first lesson. It was simple enough, naming a single word that would allow the reader to flip pages without touching the book. Stumbling in his attempt to pronounce the incantation, Kwil expected nothing to happen. His eyes went wide as the page flipped. Grinning ear to ear, he repeated the word to flip another page.

  Considering himself lucky that the pronunciation guide was so well written, he moved on to the next spell. Along with an incantation, it presented a guide for the movement of the wizard’s hand. It explained how to move one’s fingers at the appropriate parts of the incantation. This would allow him to turn to any page he desired in his books. Leave it to a wizard’s school to teach you to study magic by using magic, he thought. If a student incorporated magic into every aspect of his life, he would surely grow accustomed to it. Eventually, he could perform these spells without thinking. Kwil could only imagine what it would be like when he reached that point. These books could lead him there.

  Slowly he spoke the words, attempting to move his fingers along with the rhythm of the spell. Nothing happened. Frowning, he tried again, but this time was no different. As he began the third try, the door swung open behind him. Dropping the book, he spun around to see Nera holding a small plate of food.

  Hurrying to his feet, he tucked the volume away neatly on her desk and bowed his head. How much had she heard? What would she do to him? Silently he hoped she would not tell her father. Kwil would rather be turned over to authorities than face Lord Orva. He was a cruel man, and there was no telling what punishment he would have in store for a slave attempting to learn magic.

  “I didn’t realize slaves were allowed to read,” she said, setting her plate on the desk.

  “I wasn’t reading, Nera,” Kwil lied. “I was only straightening the books.”

  Nera narrowed her eyes as she observed the slave. “I heard you pronouncing the words,” she said. “You were reading.” Looking around the room, she added, “Everything in here is perfectly straight, just as you left it earlier. There was no need for you to return.” In a more accusing tone, she said, “I saw the pages move when you cast the spell.”

  Kwil felt the redness creep into his face. “Please, Mistress,” he said. “I meant no harm.” Breathing heavily, he kept his head downward, staring at his feet.

  “Relax,” she said, picking up the book. “You want to learn magic?”

  Kwil’s head shot up, staring at the Gatan. “More than anything,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper.

  The corners of Nera’s mouth turned up, her face showing no sign of suspicion. “I don’t want to learn it,” she said. “My parents are forcing me to attend the College.” Trotting over to her bed she opened the wooden case and pulled out a lute. Leaning back against her pillow, she strummed at the strings. “I prefer music, but that isn’t smart enough for my parents.”

  “You’re a free woman,” Kwil replied. “Why not just do what you love?” The idea that a Gatan couldn’t choose her own path was alien to him. A slave had no choice, but a highborn lady certainly had one.

  “Papa would likely send me away if I left school,” Nera responded. “What he doesn’t realize is, there are other ways to make magic besides casting spells. And music is much more fun than memorizing spells all day.”

  Kwil didn’t have an answer. Instead he stood silently for several minutes as Nera played a soft tune. He gave a quiet applause as she finished. “Can you sing?” he asked.

  “Not very well,” she replied honestly. “You?”

  “Afraid not, Mistress,” he said.

  “Stop calling me that. I already told you my name is Nera.”

  “Of course, Nera,” he corrected. “Forgive me.”

  Setting her lute aside, she sat up on her bed and looked at him. “You can’t take the book from here,” she said. “If anyone catches you with it, well I don’t have to tell you what will happen.”

  Kwil nodded. Once again he would be cut off from learning, thanks to his lowly status.

  “What you can do,” she began, “is study it here with me.”

  His jaw dropping open, Kwil could barely take in a breath. Was she serious? She was going to help him learn?

  “I’m not very good at it,” she continued, “so I won’t be much of a teacher. But you can study while I play my lute. That way no one will hear your voice when you pronounce the incantations.”

  His eyes filling with tears, Kwil fought the urge to grab the girl and hug her. Such an act would be completely inappropriate, but he felt an almost overwhelming sense of gratitude toward her. “Thank you, Nera,” he said. “Thank you and thank you.” Not knowing what else to say, his words trailed off.

  “You’re welcome,” she replied. “You can begin now if you like.”

  Kwil jumped at the opportunity, eagerly grabbing the book and situating himself in a corner out of her way. Today was the beginning of his true life. Finally he had the chance to learn and develop the magic that lingered inside him, yearning to be set free.

  Chapter 3

  Each day Kwil spent more time in Nera’s room, reading and practicing the magic written in the pages of her books. He learned a variety of simple spells, and he felt a sense of pride he had never experienced before. After only a week, he was finished with the beginner’s book and ready to move on to the others.

  “You’re going to catch up to me,” Nera commented playfully. Most days she took little interest in his studying. She simply sat upon her bed, strumming her lute while he read and practiced. Today, she seemed eager for him to demonstrate what he’d learned.

  “I doubt that,” Kwil replied, looking at the books. “I have a long way to go.”

  “But you catch on quickly,” she said. “If you could read the runic symbols, I bet you’d learn twice as fast.”

  “Can you teach me?” Kwil asked eagerly.

  Nera shook her head. “I don’t know it, but I’m supposed to learn this year at the College.”

  Kwil’s heart nearly stopped. She was only on break from her studies, and she would have to return in another week. She’d take her books with her, and he would be left with no way to continue learning.

  Not noticing the slave’s worried expression, Nera said, “Maybe you could come to school with me.”

  Stunned, Kwil stared up at her, wondering how such a thing was possible.

  “Not as a student,” she explained. “Second year students are allowed private chambers, and many of them bring a slave to serve them while they study. It frees up time to concentrate on studying—or playing the lute.” The last bit she added with a grin.

  “I would love that,” Kwil replied.

  “I’ll have to ask my parents,” she said. “But I think I can convince them to let me take you.”

  As she spoke, her eyes glanced over at the fireplace, where the fire had dimmed and was nearly out. She started to get up, but Kwil beat her to it. He leapt to his feet, hurrying to tend the dying embers.

  “Forgive me,” he said. Neglecting his duties was unacceptable, especially when it came to Nera. He owed her everything, and he felt pangs of guilt at allowing her room to grow cold.

  Nera looked thoughtfully at the slave. “You know, the attitude toward slavery is changing in Gi’gata.”

  A bright fire roared to life before Kwil turned to face her. He wrinkled his brow, puzzled as to what she was talking about.

  “News rarely reaches these sleepy country manors,” she continued. “But in the city, many Gatans are no longer comfortable owning other living beings. It’s an archaic and barbaric practice.”

  Kwil couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “If we don’t work for them, what do we do?” he wondered.

  “Well, I’ve heard that many are sent back to their original homelands,” she replied.

  “Many slaves are born here,” he stated. “I was.”

  Nera paused a moment, not sure how to reply. Sure
he had an ancestral home, but he had never been there. Would it be right to free a slave and send him back to a land he’d scarcely even heard of? What would happen if freed slaves chose to stay? How would her people treat them? “Maybe those who don’t wish to leave could be given jobs,” she said.

  “I already have a job,” Kwil replied. The thought of being turned loose scared him. He had nothing—no money, no home, and no family. Should all slaves suddenly be set free, he would be doomed. Freedom didn’t mean equality. Studying at the College would still be out of the question.

  With a sigh, Nera said, “Look, I don’t have all the answers. I only mentioned it because I thought you might like to know. Your future might be something better than serving my family.” She managed a sweet smile, hoping she hadn’t made him too uncomfortable. “Come on,” she said. “I’ll help you with your studies.”

  With a nod, Kwil returned to the books and flipped to the next lesson. Nera set her lute aside and watched with interest as Kwil manipulated the fire in the hearth.

  “You didn’t need to get up to tend that,” she said with a laugh.

  Kwil shrugged, his face slightly bewildered. “I didn’t realize I could do that,” he replied.

  “How did you develop an interest in magic anyway?” Nera wondered.

  “Since I was very small, I’ve been able to move things,” he said. “And I can create colors in the air,” he added, wishing he hadn’t mentioned it. It was an unpractical and frivolous use of magic, but he enjoyed it.

  “Show me,” she said.

  Focusing on the air in front of him, he waved his fingers in a delicate pattern. A shimmering butterfly of pink, yellow, and blue appeared before him. It flapped its wings, floating softly to sit upon Nera’s knee. She looked up at the young man, her eyes bright.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said.

  As Kwil looked at the ground, the butterfly dissolved into a puddle of colors. “It’s silly,” he replied, shaking his head. “But it was the first bit of magic I managed to control,” he explained. “And it’s fun.”