The Choice of Magic

by Michael G. Manning

  He returned a moment later, quietly, placing each foot slowly so as not to make any noise and alert his oppressor. With the axe held diagonally, close to his chest, he approached until he was only a few feet from the evil bastard who claimed to be his guardian, then he raised his weapon.

  Arrogan was busy moving the eggs from the pan to a waiting plate, and Will knew his timing was perfect. Feeling only the slightest guilt, Will turned the axe so it would be the flat that struck. He really wanted to kill the wretched man, but he knew his conscience would bother him later if he did. I’ll just knock him out and run for it.

  He was just beginning his swing when his body froze in place. Unbalanced, he fell backward, crashing into the floor and nearly dashing his head against the floorboards. He stared upward at his grandfather with pure malice in his eyes.

  The old man turned around and gave him an impish grin. “Next time, make some noise. The silence was far too suspicious.” Snapping his fingers, he released Will and held out a plate. “Still hungry for blood?”

  Leaving the axe on the floor, Will got to his knees. “I’m on to you now, old man. I’ve taken the measure of your evil. Someday I’ll make you pay for your crimes.”

  Arrogan chuckled. “Whatever motivates you. Holding a grudge might help you learn faster. Once you’re good enough to keep me from seizing control of your turyn, you’ll be a lot closer to getting your revenge.” He placed the plates on the table and nudged one of them. “You should eat them before they get cold. They’ll taste a lot better.”

  They ate in silence, but after Will finished his food he felt he needed to give his grandfather a reminder. “I’ve learned your lesson, so you can take your weird spell off of me now.”

  Arrogan ‘tsked’ at that. “Oh, it’s far from over. That spell will be on you for months yet.”

  “But I can’t sleep!” cried Will, despair seeping into his voice.

  “Don’t be so dramatic,” rebuked his grandfather. “You’re past the worst part. Once this becomes second nature, you’ll sleep just fine. Until that happens, you’ll just have to make do with a lot of short naps.”

  “You’re insane,” said Will. “I can’t keep this up forever.”

  “Just until you die,” said Arrogan dryly, “which, if you master this properly will be a very long time from now.” Leaning across the table, he took Will’s plate before fixing him with an intense stare. “Make no mistake, you vapid twat, I’m not training you to be one of those half-baked embarrassments that they produce in Wurthaven these days. I’m forging you into a true wizard, the likes of which brought humanity out of the dark ages of shamanism and obedience to alien gods. You’ll either learn or I’ll bury you in the garden out back to feed my plants. There is no middle way.”

  Will could see madness in the old man’s eyes, and he shivered involuntarily before looking down at his plate to escape his grandfather’s gaze.

  “Now, it’s time for you to start your reading practice,” added Arrogan.

  “How can I read? It takes all my concentration just to keep my turyn clamped down,” he replied quietly.

  “You’ll manage. You’ll learn to do everything like that. Reading is important. It’s the best way to cure you of your ignorance. It’s a pity it can’t cure your stupidity as well. You’re going to be a great wizard someday, skillful and well-educated.” Arrogan paused for a second. “But you’ll probably still be dumb as a stump.”

  Despite his poor mood, Will laughed a little at the remark. There was a certain pattern to his grandfather’s insults and abuses that had grown on him over time. He still hated the crotchety bastard, but he couldn’t help but like the man a little.

  Arrogan’s face remained still and serious. “That wasn’t a joke,” he stated, but after a second his eyes crinkled at the corners.

  ***

  The next two weeks were a misery. The only thing good Will could find about them was that at least he wasn’t in a lot of pain. He couldn’t sleep more than thirty or forty minutes at a time at night before waking up with a burning sensation that told him his turyn was growing again. Consequently, he was constantly sleepy during the day and found himself nodding off at every opportunity, while reading, while cooking, and most especially while trying to learn math.

  It came as a complete surprise to him the first night he slept eight hours without waking. He had thought it would happen gradually, but when his unconscious mind finally learned to maintain its grip on his turyn while he slept, it happened all at once. One day he was napping, the next he was sleeping without trouble.

  Things got much easier after that, and his reading and math sessions seemed pleasant. His grandfather began to take him on walks as well, pointing out plants and trees that Will already knew, but giving him extra information about them. Many had uses his mother had never mentioned, primarily since she didn’t practice magic. For a midwife, it wasn’t particularly useful to know that ash and oak were helpful in creating protective wards.

  What didn’t happen, however, was any actual training in magic or spells. As winter came to a close, Will asked his grandfather about it. “When are you going to teach me how to do something?”

  The old man was in a good mood that day, so he answered plainly, “Remember when I first put the spell on you to keep your turyn from expanding?”

  He nodded.

  “What would you have done if you could cast spells?”

  Will already knew the answer. “I would have used magic to keep my turyn lower, but I’ve already mastered the trick. There’s no reason to keep me ignorant.”

  “You aren’t even close to being done,” said Arrogan, his tone ending the discussion.

  Will sighed, knowing it was useless to keep asking. That evening, the old man illustrated the point by removing the spell on him after they had eaten.

  “Oh, that feels good!” exclaimed Will, but seconds later he saw the green line connecting to his chest again. “What are you doing?” He twisted in place, trying to escape the old man’s control, but his best efforts were useless. The flame of his candle turned green, and he knew Arrogan had taken hold of him once more.

  The flame shrank even more, as Arrogan manipulated his source. It was now a quarter of its former size. “This is your new goal,” said his guardian.

  Will felt tired and lethargic, his turyn too small to sustain him properly. “You’re crazy,” he protested. “I can’t live like this.”

  His grandfather smiled, then recreated the spell-cage that would contain Will’s turyn. It was sized to fit his much smaller inner flame now. “You’ll be fine. As you will discover in time, you’ve been relying on your turyn to help you do everything: walk, talk, eat, shit, even think. That’s what ordinary people do with theirs, but you aren’t going to be ordinary. You’re going to learn to live without it.”

  “What’s the point? Why would anyone want to be so miserable all the time?” asked Will.

  “Ask me again in a few years,” said Arrogan.

  Chapter 16

  It was over a month before Will could sleep properly again. Keeping his source damped down properly was much more difficult given the new limit that Arrogan had imposed. His only solace was that he hadn’t had to go through the same intensely agonizing period at the beginning this time. He already knew what to do; it was simply a matter of focus and discipline.

  What he had more trouble with, though, was his lack of energy. It felt as though he was living underwater—every movement was difficult. Even walking took all of his attention, or he would trip and fall.

  Naturally, it was at this point in his development when his grandfather decided that physical training would be beneficial. It began with brisk walks and culminated in Will being forced to run circuits around the house. By the end of the first two weeks, he was covered in bruises and scratches from tripping over vines and brambles that seemed to be everywhere.

  When he could finally manage to run completely around the house without falling flat on the ground, A
rrogan brought out two long staves of ash. He tossed one to Will, who skillfully caught it with his face.

  “Ow!”

  “Pick it up,” said his torturer.

  Will groaned but did as he was told. Then his grandfather began walking him through a series of staff forms. “Try to follow my movements.”

  The staff felt clumsy in his hands and though the movements his grandfather asked him to copy were fairly simple, he found himself having trouble. As usual, his body was incredibly awkward and he knew that if it weren’t for the fact that his natural turyn was so thoroughly suppressed, he could have done it easily.

  He got better, though. By the time summer arrived, he was able to follow the forms easily and his grandfather switched to active sparring, or as Will liked to think of it, ‘supervised beatings.’ It was a great relief to him when his cousin Eric appeared one day at the beginning of a training session.

  “Will!” called his cousin.

  Arrogan turned on Eric angrily. “What do you want? We’re busy.”

  “Hi, Eric,” said Will, grateful for the interruption.

  “Baron Nerrow is at your mom’s house,” said his cousin excitedly. “He’s looking for you.”

  “Tell that two-bit goat wrangler to fuck off,” said Arrogan harshly.

  Eric gaped at the old man’s invective, then looked straight at Will. “Your mom told him that you were at our house. He won’t leave without seeing you. Dad sent me to fetch you before Lord Nerrow loses his temper.”

  Will’s grandfather was swearing quietly to himself. “Pompous ass! Who does the think he is?”

  “I should go, Grandfather,” said Will. “I don’t want anything to happen to Mom.”

  “This is her fault to begin with,” spat his guardian. “Erisa can take care of her own problems.”

  Eric spoke up. “If Will doesn’t come, she might be forced to tell Lord Nerrow to come here.”

  Will was already moving. Leaning his staff against the house, he took a moment to brush the dust and dirt off his clothing. “Let’s go,” he told his cousin.

  “Hold on,” commanded Arrogan, his voice projecting authority. Will and Eric stopped and looked at him. The old man pointed at Eric. “Go stand over there. I need to talk to Will for a moment, privately.”

  Once Eric had moved off a short distance, his grandfather took him aside. “You need to be very careful when you meet Lord Nerrow. He can’t know anything about your training.”

  Will understood. He hadn’t forgotten that his grandfather was some sort of wanted criminal. “I won’t say anything about you.”

  “This isn’t just for my sake,” said the old man. “It’s for yours as well.” He made a gesture with one hand and Will felt the spell encasing his turyn vanish. “We don’t want him to see that spell, but don’t think you’re off the hook,” warned Arrogan. “Keep your turyn tightly suppressed. The spell goes back on when you get back.”

  “He’s a sorcerer,” reminded Will. “Won’t he see that my turyn is too small to be normal?”

  His grandfather cuffed the side of his head. “Fool. Haven’t you been paying attention? Can you see mine?”

  Will shook his head. He had a vague sense that his grandfather’s turyn was somewhat smaller than usual, but he couldn’t visualize it directly. He certainly couldn’t tell it was the tiny ember that the old man had once shown him.

  “That’s the point of the candle spell,” lectured Arrogan. “In time, you’ll be able to gauge almost exactly what your turyn is doing, based on experience and instinct, but judging someone else’s is even more difficult. You can see the flows of magic around yourself and others, but seeing what lies within someone else is nearly impossible.” He paused for a moment, then went on, “That’s right, I almost forgot the candle. Give it to me.”

  He did, and the flame winked out, causing Will a moment of panic. He had grown so used to constantly observing it that seeing the flame vanish made him think he had died for a split second. Arrogan tucked the now-extinguished candle into a pocket. “I’ll restore this spell as well, after you get back.”

  Thinking they were done, Will started to leave, but his grandfather caught his shoulder. “Not yet. You need to be ready for what you will see, not just what he might see.”

  “Huh?”

  “The last time you saw Lord Nerrow, you didn’t have the sight, and as far as he knows, you still don’t,” explained Arrogan.

  Will frowned. “He’s not going to know what I can see just by looking at me.”

  “He will if you act surprised,” said his guardian. “Sorcerers usually have one or more elementals with them. They aren’t visible to normal people unless they call on them, or when they want to impress people, but you are almost bound to see one around him, and it can be jarring. If you respond with shock or fear he’s going to know.”

  “How bad could it be?”

  “Mark Nerrow comes from a very prestigious line of sorcerers, even though his rank among the nobility is fairly modest. He will very likely have a major fire elemental with him. Seeing something like that can be very unsettling. Try not to shit yourself,” advised his grandfather. “At its biggest, it could be as big as a large house, though it will almost certainly be compressed into a tiny form, like a ball of fire floating over his shoulder.”

  Despite the warning, Will found himself more curious than ever. His training with Arrogan had been singularly boring, except for the painful parts. Seeing an elemental sounded exciting. “I’ll be all right,” he assured the old man.

  Arrogan stared after him for several minutes after he left, then he went inside and got his travel boots and staff. As he stepped off the porch and started in the direction of Will’s house, he spotted the goddamned cat. “I should have known you’d show up today,” he told the feline.

  The grey feline stretched and then sat up straight, fixing Arrogan with a serious stare.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not planning on starting anything,” said the old man. “I’ve left that crap in the past, where it belongs.”

  The cat yawned, then stared up at him, closing its eyes slowly before reopening them.

  “Trust me,” said Arrogan. “I just want to observe.”

  The goddamned cat sneezed before walking away, seeming to have lost interest in the old man’s conversation. Arrogan shook his head and started walking. As he went he muttered to himself, “But if that pompous prick tries to take the boy, I won’t hesitate to start a war.”

  ***

  Will and Eric made good time through the woods on their way to Will’s house, keeping their pace somewhere between a trot and a jog. When they got close, Will stopped and put a hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “You should stay here.”

  “I want to see what happens,” protested Eric.

  “The man’s a sorcerer,” reminded Will. “If he’s mad about something, or if something goes wrong, I’d rather you weren’t there. It’s bad enough that he’s in the house with Mom.”

  “I’d like to see him try!” declared Eric, lifting one fist and shaking it defiantly. “I’d show him what the Cartwrights are made of.”

  Will couldn’t help but be impressed by his cousin’s loyalty, as well as a little envious as he saw the corded muscles of Eric’s forearm. Even with his new staff practice, he doubted he’d ever develop that much muscle. Still, Will vividly remembered all the times his grandfather had rendered him completely helpless without so much as a word. If Arrogan could do that, how much could a powerful sorcerer do? “Please stay here, Eric,” he said. “Neither of us can fight magic, and he’ll have guards as well. I’d rather not risk anyone I don’t have to.”

  Eric chewed his lip unhappily, but eventually he agreed. “All right. But if anything happens, I’ll run and get Dad.”

  “If it comes to that, just run,” said Will. He hugged his cousin briefly, then started through the underbrush. It was only twenty more yards to his house.

  As before, the gilded carriage was parked in front and
a well-dressed driver stood beside it. The footman stood guard at the door to his house. Squaring his shoulders, Will walked forward.

  “Who might you be?” asked the driver.

  Will wasn’t sure if it was the same man that had whipped him two years before, but he turned his head to bring the scar on his cheek into view. “Will Cartwright,” he answered. “I was told that Lord Nerrow wanted to see me.”

  The footman opened the door to the house and peeked inside. “The boy is here, milord.” A man’s voice responded, and then the servant looked back at Will. “You can go in.”

  It’s my home, you asshole, thought Will, but he kept his words to himself. He was surprised by the number of people inside when he stepped in. The main room of his home served as both a kitchen and Erisa Cartwright’s main place of business, so aside from the hearth there was a table with four chairs. The shelves around the sides of the room were crammed with dried herbs, and a variety of bottles and jars of ointment.

  Erisa’s favorite chair was occupied by an arrogant-looking man clad in orange and gold—the same one who had visited two years ago. Lord Nerrow had dirty blond hair, brown eyes, and a long, sharp nose that hung over a thin mustache. Seeing him in his mother’s chair didn’t do anything to improve Will’s opinion of him.

  Two of the other chairs were occupied by two young women, or more accurately, girls. The first looked to be close to Sammy’s age, with brown hair and eyes. Will thought she must be the same one he had once seen escaping from the carriage, the one he had saved from the snake. He had no doubt about the identity of the other, older girl, whose raven black hair and startling blue eyes had caught his attention immediately. Her name was Selene. At a guess, he figured she was near to his own age.

  More fascinating than the three strangers were the creatures hovering above their shoulders. Lord Nerrow and the younger girl both had ghostly flames beside them and when Will let his eyes settle on them briefly, he got the distinct impression that the flames were looking back at him, though they had no eyes that he could discern.