The First Lesson Page 8

  Pausing in her movements, she called out, “Mama?”

  There was no reply. Pia ran blindly through the fog. She had to find her mother. Her foot connected with an unseen object and she landed hard against the ground, her fingers digging into the dirt. Raising up on her arm, she looked behind her. The mist was too dense to see. Crawling toward whatever had tripped her, she groped in front of her.

  What she touched sent a chill down her spine. A hand, her mother’s. Grasping it, she said, “Mama?”

  No reply. There would never be a reply. Pia looked down upon the face of her mother, frozen in terror. Tears welled in her eyes as she bent over the lifeless form, burying her face in her mother’s chest. An eerie sensation crept over her. Someone was near.

  “Who’s there?” she said to the mist.

  A hand touched her back, its fingers traveling up her spine. Swiveling around, she expected to see her enemy. But there was nothing. She dropped to her knees before her mother. A shadow crept over the woman’s face, moving down her neck and shoulders until it finally enveloped her entire body.

  Pia stepped back, trembling. Her mother rose, the tattered robes of a wraith hovering above the ground. Screaming in fright, she raced blindly into the fog. The wraith was faster. It caught up to her in an instant, showing no signs of fatigue. Its skeletal hand reached out for her, landing on her shoulder. Pain wracked her body, and she cried out in agony.

  A flash of realization hit the girl hard. The wraith was trying to take something from her. Something deep inside. She felt its presence enter her heart, digging its way into her mind. “No!” she cried, trying to force it away. She was too weak. The world went black and she knew no more.

  Taren shook the girl roughly, calling out her name. “Pia! Wake up!”

  She opened her eyes, the sorcerer’s scaled face hovering over her. She flinched and tried to wriggle free of his grasp. He held tight to her arms, pinning her down. It had all been a dream.

  “Don’t move,” he said. Looking over his shoulder, he called, “Leko.”

  The elf rushed over with a pair of leaves, which he forced into Pia’s mouth. Holding his hand over her lips, he said, “Don’t chew. Let it dissolve on your tongue.”

  The girl nodded, and he took his hand away. Keeping her mouth closed, she felt a tingling on her tongue. The herbs were tart, and she wanted to spit. But a soothing sensation came over her, and her muscles relaxed. Taren let go of her arms, and she drifted into a dreamless sleep.

  When she woke, she found she had missed an entire day. She was starving. Climbing to her feet, she joined her companions at the campfire. Embyr handed her a piece of jerky, which the girl readily accepted. Her only regret was she couldn’t eat it faster for all the chewing.

  Leko prepared a cup of tea and handed it to her. “Careful with that,” he cautioned. “It’s hot.”

  She held the cup a while to warm her hands. When she was ready to drink, she blew on it first to cool it. It tasted of fresh lemons and honey. “Is this medicine?” she asked. It tasted too good to be one of his remedies.

  “For the soul,” he replied. “Drink up.”

  After she’d had a few sips, Taren said, “Tell me what you saw. Leave nothing out.”

  The last thing she wanted to do was recall the disturbing images. She wanted to forget them and never think of them again. Staring into her cup, she remained silent.

  Taren placed a hand on her back. “I know it’s difficult, but I can’t help unless you tell me.”

  Her tongue felt heavy as she began to speak. “I saw a fog,” she began. “It was dense, and it got worse as I walked through it. My mother was calling me. I couldn’t find her.” She paused, taking a long sip from her cup.

  “Did you find your mother?” Taren asked.

  She nodded. “She was dead. I think a wraith killed her.” Her voice cracked as she uttered those words.

  “Please,” Taren said. “Tell me how you know that.”

  “I saw it,” she whispered.

  “You saw a wraith,” Taren said. His eyes looked left and right as if measuring the depth of her words. “Did it touch you?”

  “How did you know?” she asked. “It touched my shoulder.” Setting her cup aside, she squeezed her left shoulder.

  “May I?” Taren asked.

  She nodded her permission, allowing him to examine her shoulder and arm.

  “There is nothing,” he said. “You did not encounter a wraith.”

  The level of tension between them seemed to lessen, and Pia breathed a little easier. “It was only a nightmare then.”

  “Not exactly,” Taren said. “It could be a warning. A premonition of things to come.”

  “You mean my mother is in danger? But how? I left my parents behind. You said they’d be safe.”

  “I can’t guarantee their safety,” Taren replied. “Your leaving drew the focus away from your home. I hope the wraiths will leave your family in peace, but there’s no way to be sure.”

  “Then I’m here for no reason!” she shouted. Standing, she added, “You lied!”

  “I have never lied to you,” Taren replied calmly. “Sit down.”

  She grudgingly obeyed. Crossing her arms, she stared at him, waiting for an explanation.

  “I think you may have touched the void in your dream,” he said. “It might have nothing to do with your mother. Her image was probably conjured by your own mind. But the presence of the wraith, and that it touched you, could mean you are slipping toward the void in your sleep.” He paused before adding, “The void may have sent you the vision.”

  “So now I can’t sleep at all?” she asked. The next dream wraith might drag her away into this void, and no one would ever find her.

  “You will be able to sleep,” Taren said. “Leko can prepare a draught that will help.” When Leko looked at him questioningly, he added, “I will show him how.”

  “What good will it do?” Pia wondered.

  “It will change the nature of your sleep, and therefore, your dreams,” he said. “Your mind will be less likely to wander to the void.”

  “And that will fix everything?”

  “I wish it would,” he said, looking at the ground. “You must learn, Pia. You must work harder than you’ve ever worked. I will teach you what I can of the void and prepare you for what is to come. But in the end, you must find the strength on your own. I cannot open the void, and I can’t drag you away from it. Those are things only you will be able to do.”

  “Magic,” she said, her voice barely audible. “I don’t think I want to learn magic anymore.”

  “There’s little choice,” Taren replied. “Without it, all is lost. None can close the rift but you.”

  “But magic is evil,” she said. “Those wraiths, they are dark magic. I don’t want that. Magic has brought me nothing but pain.” She regretted her childish daydreams of wizards and feats of magic.

  “The void is dark, that much is true,” the sorcerer replied. “The path laid out for you is no easy one. You will experience a darkness like no other.” He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. His hand was soft against her cheek. “But you will also experience the light. There is good in magic, and I will show it to you.” He lifted her hands in his. “These hands will perform wondrous deeds. Deeds that will change the fate of this world. Let me teach you.”

  Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Teach me,” she said.

  Chapter 10

  “I think you’re asking too much of Pia,” Embyr said. “She’s only thirteen, and you’ve just told her that she’s destined to save the world.”

  “That isn’t exactly what I said,” Taren replied.

  “No, but you told her no one else could heal the rift,” she argued. “That’s a tall order for a child.”

  “There are others capable,” Taren replied. “Though none of them are now living.”

  “So by the time we get to the wastelands you’ll have trained her to be a master sorcerer?”
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  “Not at all,” he replied. “That would take more than a few months.”

  Embyr stood with her hands on her hips.

  “She will be ready,” Taren promised. “I can’t teach her to master the elements. She isn’t attuned to that sort of magic. But I can train her in ancient magic. She has that gift. Then she will learn to reach into the void. One step at a time.”

  “All the while we’re moving toward the darkness,” Embyr said.

  “We cannot delay,” Taren replied. “She must learn as we go. If there is time, we will pause once we arrive. I can shield her from them for a time.”

  “I hope so,” she replied.

  The following day the storms had passed, but the sky remained gray. It weighed on Pia’s heart. She dearly wished to see the sun again. “Are there more storms on the way?” she asked. Taren was knowledgeable about the wind. Perhaps he could alter the weather or teach her how to do so.

  “It is the beginning of darkness,” Taren replied. “We won’t see the sun again on this journey.”

  “Why not?”

  “I suppose it’s only right to be truthful with you. You’re a woman grown, after all. We are heading toward the rift in the void.”

  “And where is that?” she asked.

  “It was once a land of beauty but is now a wasteland,” he replied. “There is nothing there but a desert of clay and the remnants of a once-great coalition of mages. It is where the rift was formed, and where we must go if we wish to close it.”

  “And the darkness will follow us?”

  He shook his head. “It does not pursue us. We are walking into it.”

  “I’m frightened,” she said, feeling the chill of the wind.

  “It’s all right to be afraid,” he said. “There is one more truth I must share with you.”

  She peered at him curiously. Of course there would be more.

  “I’m sure you’ve wondered about the scales on my face,” he said.

  Heat crept into her face despite her efforts to prevent it. She had wondered about the scales but hadn’t asked out of politeness. It wasn’t a question you asked a stranger. Although he was no longer a stranger, she never would have brought attention to it.

  “I will show you, but you must not touch me once I’ve changed form,” he said.

  “Changed form?” What was that supposed to mean?

  “Observe, apprentice,” he said.

  While she watched, he dropped to his hands and knees, his back lengthening. Scales erupted all over his flesh, massive wings sprouting from his back. His neck snaked its way skyward, his face lengthening into a reptilian muzzle. Clutching her hands to her heart, she stepped backward.

  “A dragon,” she whispered.

  Embyr stood behind her, lending an arm to steady her. “Yes,” she said. “Taren is a shapeshifter.”

  Despite the warning, Pia felt the need to reach out to him. She placed her fingertips on the scales of his shoulder. Heat seared her flesh, and she pulled her hand away.

  “You were warned, apprentice,” Taren said.

  Leko came to her rescue, applying a salve to the burns. His hands were gentle, his eyes kind. There was no judgment behind them. Pia didn’t need anyone else to lecture her. She could do that herself.

  Cradling her burned fingers, she felt both physical and mental pain. How could she be so stupid? She had learned to be silent, but she hadn’t learned to listen. Following directions was part of that. If she planned to learn magic, she had to do better. Swallowing her pain, she replied, “I have learned my lesson.”

  The dragon dipped his head. “Above all, an apprentice must obey her instructor. That is how spells are learned correctly. Failure to do so can result in disaster, more than just burned fingers.”

  As easily as he’d changed to the massive reptile, he changed back to his human form. His body shrank, shaping itself back into the familiar form of Taren. The only remaining clue to his transformation was the scales.

  “Why don’t all the scales disappear?” she asked.

  “Because I have spent too many years in dragon form,” he replied. “It is as much a part of me as any other. I could no more remove the scales than my own heart.”

  “I don’t think I want to be a dragon,” Pia said. Perhaps there was a different skill he could teach her. She could become a cat or a bird. Not a dragon. It was far too frightening to look upon.

  “I could not teach you the skill even if you desired it,” he replied. “It is only through the symbol’s gift that I am able to change form. It is not common among wizards.”

  “Tell me about the symbol,” she said.

  Raising the sleeve on his right arm, he showed her what appeared to be an intricate tattoo. It was a dragon, black as the endless night, its eyes amber, its scales glimmering in the dim light. “These are the marks the symbol left on my body upon our bonding,” he explained. “It is an ancient artifact of great power, crafted by magical beings long gone from this world,” he explained. “It gives its bearer unique abilities, among them, long life.”

  Now she understood. “How old are you?”

  “I don’t remember,” he replied. “I have lived as an ordinary herbalist, and I have lived as a man of great power. I have lived many lifetimes, some of them as a dragon. Now I am needed in this form.”

  “For me,” she said.

  “Indeed,” he replied. He motioned for her to sit and joined her, sitting cross-legged near the campfire. “When I was young, I was sent to retrieve the symbol for my master, Imrit. He was like a father to me. I miss him still.” He looked away.

  Pia reached for his hand and squeezed it.

  “After I bonded with the symbol, Imrit and I studied it for many years. We found that it had a twin with different abilities, but it was no less powerful. He desired to bond with it, but it wasn’t meant to be. The symbol chooses its host, and he could not fully bond with the artifact. It was waiting for someone else. For you.”

  “How do you know this?” she wondered. There were millions upon millions of girls in the world. To find her among them seemed impossible. Surely it was meant for another.

  “My own symbol granted me a vision,” he explained. “I saw you, and after you were conceived, I journeyed to find your mother. Once I touched her, I knew the child she carried was the one I sought.”

  Pia’s mouth hung open, but she could not find the words to speak. In all the world, this artifact had chosen her, a simple young woman of low birth. It made no sense.

  “It is your gift,” Taren went on. “Your ability to touch the void is what the symbol wants. That is where its power lies. Imrit could not wield it in that way. He used it to augment his magic and extend his life, but it was never his to bond with. It is yours, Pia.”

  “Can I see it?” she asked.

  “Not yet,” he replied. “I think it best to keep it from you for now. When you are trained, I will offer it to you. Then you may choose to bond with it or reject it. If I gave it to you now, you might not have the strength to resist it. I fear it would control you.”

  It was a lot to digest at once. Having never seen this item, she now craved it. Her fingers longed to touch it, her eyes to look upon it. “Where is it?” she asked.

  “It is well-hidden,” he said, “where only a dragon could reach it.”

  Out of her reach until he chose to give it to her. “What will happen after I bond with it?”

  “You will have to activate it,” he said. “To do that, you must touch the void.”

  “So that’s why we’re going there?”

  “That’s one reason,” he said. “Once you share the symbol’s power, you will be able to close the rift and remove the darkness that is spreading across the world.”

  Was that all? The weight of it pressed against her shoulders. She had desired magic, tricks of light and air to make herself a spectacle. She’d thought perhaps to be a hero, saving a small town from some mythical beast. This was far more than she’d ever imagined.
Now that she had the opportunity for greatness, she wasn’t sure she wanted it. What would it be like to touch the void?

  Her thoughts immediately returned to the wraith, and the evil she’d felt in its presence. That was the void. “I don’t want to touch the void,” she said.

  “If you do not,” he said, “the world will turn to darkness. All life will perish, consumed by the emptiness of the void.”

  Overwhelmed, the girl did not reply. Choosing silence, she looked away from him, turning her face to the sky. What would it be like never to see the sun again? Despair settled into her stomach. All the world would feel this emptiness before they perished. She didn’t know how to stop it, but she couldn’t sit by and let it happen. Her hands trembled with fear.

  Embyr wrapped her arms around the girl and pulled her in close. “Remember,” she said, “you’re not doing this alone. Taren, Leko, and I are with you.”

  “I think you’ve laid it on thick enough for one day,” Leko said. “Let the poor girl get some rest and clear her mind.” He mussed Pia’s hair, forgetting her declaration that she was not a girl, but a woman. She didn’t mind. It was a friendly gesture meant to lighten the mood, a mood that certainly needed lifting.

  “Rest,” Taren said. “Tomorrow you can learn a few spells.”

  The prospect both frightened and thrilled her. She would finally begin training in something other than silence. When she tried to stand, she felt dizzy and was forced to sit back down.

  “I’ll bring you some food,” Embyr said. “And some more tea. Wait here.”

  Going through the motions of eating and drinking, Pia paid no heed to flavor. The nutrients were necessary, so she ate. The tea warmed her, so she drank. She didn’t speak to anyone other than Embyr, and only to thank her for bringing her food. There was too much to think about, and her mind was whirling.

  As night descended, the stars were barely visible. Dots of white veiled behind a mist of gray looked down upon her. Were they between her and the void? She didn’t understand exactly what this thing was. Or was it a place? They were journeying to a rift where she might stand in its physical presence. So it was both a place and a thing. She sighed, resigning herself to the fact that she still didn’t understand. Someday, perhaps, but not this day.