The First Lesson Page 7

  “They already have,” he said.

  Not understanding, she replied, “What was the first lesson again?” Had she already forgotten?

  “Gather the wood,” Taren said.

  “That isn’t magic,” she argued. “Or am I supposed to learn a spell to make this easier?”

  Taren placed a twig in the bundle in his arms and searched for another. Placing it on top, he continued to ignore her.

  Frowning, Pia added another piece of kindling to her own small pile. Looking down at a stick, she focused her mind to it, picturing it already burning in the campfire. She would show Taren what she could do. Maybe then he’d take her seriously.

  Before she could complete her attempt, a firm hand grasped her shoulder. “Aah!” she cried at the sharp pain. She looked up into Taren’s dark eyes. They flashed with an amber light.

  Releasing her, he said, “No spells. Keep your mind empty.”

  She swallowed hard, fighting back tears. He wasn’t going to teach her anything. All he wanted was for her not to use the magic she had. If she could do that on her own, then why couldn’t she stay with her parents?

  “That’s enough wood,” he said. “Let’s head back.”

  He waited for her to walk in front of him, and she did so grudgingly. Back at camp she sat on her pallet, propping her elbows on her knees. The light began to fade. She spoke little as they ate dinner, and her sleep was interrupted by her own mind as she tried to decide what to do. By morning, she still hadn’t made up her mind.

  “Embyr,” she said. “Why did Taren take me from my parents?”

  “To protect you,” she answered.

  “I thought he would teach me about magic,” Pia said.

  “He will,” Embyr replied.

  Shaking her head, Pia muttered, “No, he refuses.”

  With little else to say, they moved on in search of their next campsite. It would be two more days before Pia found the courage to speak with Taren again.

  “Will I be a sorceress someday?” she asked.

  “Perhaps,” Taren replied.

  A short answer, but at least he was speaking to her. She tried again. “Is there much difference between a witch and a sorceress?”

  Taren sighed. “I suppose that depends on where you are.”

  “What do you mean?” she wondered.

  “In one land a witch is considered evil, in another she is considered a healer and is revered,” he explained. “A sorceress can be plagued by the superstition of the people around her, or she can be loved and honored. It all depends on where she is.”

  “So what am I?”

  “You are Pia,” he replied. “Gather more kindling.”

  Frustrated, she stomped through the woods, gathering small pieces of wood for their fire. Taren’s abrupt ending of their conversation made her feel rejected. He really didn’t want to answer her, no matter how the questions burned on her tongue. She could ask Leko or Embyr, but every time she brought up magic, they replied, “Ask Taren.” She didn’t want to ask Taren.

  Discouraged, she decided to try another approach. The following night, Embyr delivered a load of firewood and produced a flint.

  “Can I light it?” Pia asked.

  “Of course,” Embyr replied.

  This was Pia’s moment. She couldn’t fail. Focusing her mind on the pile of timber, she pictured the wood bursting to life. A flame shot forth from the center, glowing to orange life. At least, that’s what it did in her vision.

  Embyr remained silent, extending the flint for Pia to use. When the girl didn’t take it, she said, “Pia, stop.”

  The girl paid her no heed. All her energy and thought fixated on the wood pile. Then she felt something. Heat. It was already inside the spent logs. Pulling it toward her, she forced it out of its hiding. A yellow spark ignited, growing steady and spreading. “I did it,” she whispered, her throat dry.

  “What are you doing?” Taren shouted, running across the camp. Grabbing Pia, he shoved her behind him. His right hand remained outstretched in front of him.

  A shadow. Pia went numb as she laid eyes on it. Slowly it emerged from between the trees, its raspy breath sending a shiver through her.

  “Stay back!” Taren shouted to her.

  Embyr knocked an arrow to her bow, and Leko readied his knives. The shadow advanced, heading straight for Pia. She stumbled backward, tripping and falling on her backside. Scrambling for her feet, she ran, hiding herself behind a tree. Embyr darted after her, keeping her bow at the ready.

  Intent on his target, Taren did not move. His hand, still held in front of him, distorted. He raised the other hand to meet it. A field grew in front of him, one side of an oval. Pia watched as the air around it bent, twisting her view of the trees beyond.

  The shadow lunged, bearing down on the sorcerer, but Taren was too fast. He thrust the energy field forward, striking the shadow and knocking it off-course. Sparks danced on the sorcerer’s hands as he threw a barrage of white light at the shadow. It recoiled, shrieking. Pia realized she could see through the creature. Taren’s spell had ripped a hole straight through it.

  Walking forward, Taren continued to repel the shadow, forcing it back toward the trees. Strange words that Pia didn’t understand flew from his lips. Then in a burst of red, the shadow disappeared.

  Pia clutched Embyr by her waist. “It’s all right,” Embyr said. “It’s gone.”

  Suddenly unsteady on his feet, Taren swayed and dropped to his knees. Leko ran to his side, taking him by the arm. Taren stood and waved the elf away. Then he turned his sights on Pia.

  “I told you to keep your mind empty!” he shouted, stepping toward the girl. “I told you not to focus!” His eyes flashed red, magic still coursing through his veins.

  “Taren,” Leko said. “She didn’t mean it.”

  “I did,” Pia said defiantly. “I wanted to show you what I could do.” All she wanted was his approval. She hadn’t meant to summon anything. “I’m sorry,” she squeaked.

  The sorcerer turned and walked away. Leko followed after him.

  “It’s all right,” Embyr said. “You didn’t know.” She took the girl by her hand and led her to the center of camp. “I think it’s time you explained a few things,” she said to Taren. “She needs to know.”

  Taren didn’t reply.

  “The longer you keep her in the dark, the more these things will happen,” Leko said. “You might as well tell her enough to keep her safe.”

  Pia swallowed hard. “Please,” she pleaded. “Tell me.” Whatever it was, she needed to hear it.

  Taren’s expression softened as he looked at the girl. “You are a special child, Pia,” he said. “There is much you don’t understand, and I would protect you from that knowledge.”

  “I’m a woman, not a child,” she insisted. “Tell me.” Drawing in a breath, she moved to his side and sat down. “I’m ready to hear it.”

  “Have you ever heard of the void?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  “There is more power there than in all the elements combined,” he explained.

  Pia understood that much. Most magic was based in the elements: air, earth, fire, water. Those substances contained power that sorcerers could tap into, drawing the magic into themselves. They could manipulate those elements to their own ends. She’d heard countless tales of such magic. It was all she’d dreamed of.

  “A century or more ago, a group of sorcerers got together and decided to study the void,” he explained. “They intended to manipulate its power as their own, setting themselves above all other wizards. I’ll spare you all the details, but suffice to say, they failed in this attempt. Instead they tore a rift in the void, destroying themselves in the process.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said. If they were gone, then they were no threat. What had any of this to do with her?

  “They were destroyed because none of them had the ability to touch the void,” he said. “It is a rare gift. Less than one sorcer
er in a billion could tap into the void and survive it.”

  “Can you do it?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Taren said. “Somewhat. But not because of a natural ability. I am imbued with the power of an ancient symbol. It has granted me many abilities that would have been far beyond my capabilities.” He reached for the girl’s hand and looked into her violet eyes. “You have the gift.”

  Pia drew back. “What do you mean?”

  “Centuries ago I was given a vision,” he went on. “I saw you. I didn’t know when you would be born, nor where I would find you. But I saw your face, next to that of my mentor.”

  She sensed his sorrow at the mention of his mentor. Part of her wanted to offer comfort, but she couldn’t bring herself to reach out to him.

  “There is a darkness in the void,” Taren said. “Wraiths have emerged, finding their way into this world since the day you were conceived.”

  “How did they get out?” she asked.

  “The rift in the void allows these creatures to pass through it.”

  “What do they want?”

  “Who can say?” Taren replied. “They are creatures of naught but evil.”

  “They wish to harm us?” she asked.

  He nodded. “They will harm anything in their path. They care not for human or elven life.”

  “What brought that one here?” She feared she already knew the answer.

  “You did,” he replied. “When you perform magic, you tap into the void, whether you mean to or not.”

  “And these wraiths are attracted by that?”

  “Yes,” he answered. “They will come to you, wherever you are. That’s why I took you away.”

  “To keep my parents safe,” she whispered.

  “And all the people of Lyraeus,” he added. “But also to teach you. You must learn to control your magic. You cannot lightly tap into the void. It will consume you.”

  “Then I’m your apprentice?” she asked.

  For a long moment he considered the question. Finally, he said, “Yes, I suppose you are.”

  “Then why have you wasted all this time?” she asked. “Why haven’t you taught me anything?” The encounter with the wraith could have been avoided if only he’d taught her not to use her magic. At the very least, informing her of the danger would have stopped her from attempting the magic.

  “I have been teaching you,” he countered.

  “I haven’t learned anything,” she replied. There had been no lessons. None at all.

  “I teach by example,” he replied.

  “I don’t understand,” she said. She had watched him cast the spells against the wraith, but she couldn’t duplicate them if she wanted to.

  Taren didn’t speak. She waited, hoping for an explanation. Frustrated, she grunted. He had reverted to his closed state. Her mouth dry, she said, “You said I’m your apprentice.”

  A single nod was his only reply.

  “Then teach me!” she shouted. It was louder than she wanted, but it had to be said. “Why are you just sitting there?” Anger crept into her voice. “I don’t understand!”

  Taren stood and looked down at her. “Above all, an apprentice of magic must learn to be silent.”

  He stressed the last word, and Pia flinched. All this time he had been teaching her with his silence. It was a slow way to learn. Without a spoken lesson, she would never learn.

  “Patience,” he said. “Silence and patience.” He walked away, busying himself with the fire.

  Pia remained seated, crossing her arms and clenching her jaw. She would not speak. No matter who spoke to her, she would say nothing for the rest of the night. If Taren wanted silence, he would get it.

  Chapter 9

  Pia maintained her silence through dinner and on into the night. The wraith appeared in her dreams, and she wanted to cry out. She awoke with a start, her eyes straining to see in the darkness. Embyr slept soundly at her side. There was no shadow. She was safe.

  By morning she still refused to speak, even when Leko tried to tempt a few words out of her.

  “At least say good morning,” he said, smiling. “What could that possibly hurt?”

  A scathing look from Taren sent the elf back to his duties, and they set out on their day’s journey. Pia managed her silence all day, listening to the footfalls of her companions. She refused to focus her mind to one thing. As she counted the footsteps, she kept her ears cautious for any animals. Under the leaves she heard one, scurrying away. Was it frightened of her? Of Taren? She started to picture what it might look like but stopped herself. That was too much focusing, and she didn’t want to call anything out of the woods.

  I can do this, she told herself as they stopped at midday. She chewed thoughtfully on a piece of jerky and made no comment about the sweetness of the dried apricots that followed. Her mouth longed for the taste of fresh bread. Would they reach a city any time soon? The question remained unasked. She still refused to speak.

  Three days passed in silence, and there was no further sign of the wraith. Taren had sent it away, using whatever power was in him. But Pia noticed it had weakened him to fight it. Either his advanced age was showing itself, or repelling such a creature took a great deal of effort. Again she was dying to ask, but she refused. Taren would tell her when the time was right. At least, she hoped he would.

  Since she wasn’t speaking, all sorts of ideas came into her mind. This could be a game to see how long he could keep a child silent. Maybe he had no intention of explaining anything to her. He’d said the Red Council would use her to their own ends. Was he doing the same? She forced the thought away. Embyr and Leko were true friends to her. They would never be a part of some plan to harm her. That she would never believe. They trusted Taren, and so would she.

  Pia managed five whole days without speaking. Was it enough? She sat next to Taren as Embyr and Leko prepared dinner. She hoped he would speak to her, but he didn’t. Instead, he announced his intentions for the evening.

  “I’m going to scout ahead,” he said and disappeared among the trees.

  “Will he be all right by himself?” The sound of her own voice startled Pia.

  “Yes, he’ll be fine,” Embyr replied. “And it’s good to hear you speak again.”

  Pursing her lips, the girl said no more. Taren still hadn’t returned by the time she fell asleep. By morning he was again present, and rain had moved into the area. The sky darkened and thunder shook the trees around her. It was frightening. She’d never been in the forest during a storm, but she’d watched the sea roil in anger. She was glad to be on land.

  Taren cast a spell of protection, not from wraiths but from the rain. An arched wall of energy hovered above them, keeping their gear, and their heads, dry.

  “Might as well catch up on sleep,” Leko said. Removing his boots, he settled in for a long sleep.

  Embyr cradled Pia in her arms. “You’ve gone silent again,” she said to her.

  Pia placed a single finger over her lips and smiled.

  After a glance at Taren, Embyr said, “Fine. You can listen.” She paused a moment to gather her thoughts. “Did I ever tell you how Taren and I met?”

  Pia shook her head. It was communicating without speaking, and it proved she was listening. Surely Taren wouldn’t object to that. Sneaking a glance in his direction, she saw his eyes glowing amber in the dim light. He was paying attention. Could he hear her thoughts? If so, she projected, then don’t expect me to silence them. My mind won’t be silent, but my voice will. I will listen. I will learn.

  Taren looked way without uttering a word.

  “I was about eight years old,” Embyr said. “I was training to become a soldier.” She looked down at Pia. “You see, where I was born, all second children are placed into military service. Right or wrong, it’s how things are done.” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, I hated it. Serving an unjust king, one who was so heartless toward children, only to gain him more land? It was ludicrous. Even at that young age I knew it
was wrong. I mentioned it to other children, but they didn’t seem to care. Maybe they didn’t understand. I can’t be sure.”

  Pia understood. Children were expected to do as they were told. She had done so, and was still doing so. But now she had a choice. Taren wouldn’t teach her if she didn’t obey, and she desperately wanted to learn.

  “Anyway, I ran off, alone in the desert,” Embyr went on. “It was stupid. I could have died, and would have if Taren hadn’t found me. He took me away from there and let me go to a school where I could learn to read and write, and most especially, to think. And of course I kept up my training with the bow.”

  Pia opened her mouth to ask a question, but spotted Taren. Once again his eyes were on her. She remained silent.

  “Once I was finished with school, I joined Taren in his travels,” Embyr said. “Then Leko came along, and now you.”

  “And they all lived happily to the end of their days,” Leko said, rolling onto his side.

  “Go back to sleep,” Embyr said playfully.

  Rain continued to fall through the evening and into the night. Pia stayed awake late, her ears ringing from the thunder. The charge remaining from strikes of lightning left her with a strange scent in her nose. She couldn’t quite describe it.

  Eventually she succumbed to fatigue and drifted off to sleep. Visions of lightning invaded her dreams, and she stirred often. A mist descended over the campsite, and she rose from her pallet. The others remained asleep. Looking down, she could not see her feet beneath her. When she walked, she felt as if she were floating. The mist grew thicker, limiting her vision to a few inches.

  “Pia?” a soft voice called through the haze.

  She recognized it immediately. “Mama?” How did she get here? Reaching inside the fog, she tried to find her mother. Moving forward, she heard her name again, but it was farther away. “Mama, stay where you are. I’ll find you.”

  Dare she reach for her magic? Memories of the wraith and Taren’s battle with it gave her pause. Would he be strong enough to defeat another? She couldn’t be sure. Her magic would not avail her. It would only bring a wraith to harm her mother.