Masters of the Veil

by Daniel A. Cohen

  “You don’t have a glove.”

  “A second-skin. No. Nor do I need one.”

  “So how do you do magic?”

  Bariv traced the swirl on his right cheek. “I am a special case. Anyway, take a look at this.”

  Above Sam, the ceiling lit up the same way the wall had. Bariv allowed Sam to lie back to gaze upwards. At first, all he could see was an image of stars, almost as clear as if he were back on his porch on a cloudless night.

  The stars began to move.

  They swirled and grew and eventually took shapes and colors and forms, like celestial echo flies. Sam was left looking at another Bariv. Almost exactly the same, but the young boy was missing the spirals on his cheeks, and his eyes were bright blue. Sam watched the image of Bariv play with a small wooden carving of a wolf, making the creature gallop across the hard dirt floor of a hut. The young boy smiled as he sang a little tune that matched the prancing of the toy. A pile of grey furs sprawled along one wall. Bones carved into spears and harpoons lined the walls, while crude nets and smoked fish hung from the ceiling.

  All of a sudden, a faint cry came from somewhere outside, and Sam frowned as he realized that there didn’t seem to be a door in the hut. The cry startled the young boy, but after a few moments of quiet, he went back to playing. After a moment, there came another cry, this time much closer and piercing. Then a cacophony of screams—like a wild animal being torn apart—came through the walls. The young boy threw aside his carving and raced for a small mat of fur on the ground. He tossed it aside, revealing a tunnel underneath.

  Bariv called into the tunnel, and two large beasts burst out. They looked like giant versions of the wolf Bariv had been playing with just moments before. He rubbed one of the dogs on the snout, and then bolted outside through the tunnel.

  Bariv struggled to wade through the knee-deep snow toward the ominous patches of red. A crimson track threaded its way off into the distance, and the boy’s eyes shot open in fear. He crawled on all fours, through thick powder and ice, as the red trail thickened. Finally, Bariv stood up, and the young boy’s whole body began to shake.

  Then came a shriek.

  It was unlike anything Sam had ever heard. The noise lowered to a boom and resonated violently, flooding the cave. The white snow brightened until the whole image was blinding. Sam brought his arm up and covered his eyes.

  As the light faded, Sam looked back up. A large white bear whimpered as it fled. Bariv knelt with his face buried in his hands, rocking gently. All around the boy, for miles it seemed, the snow had melted, leaving steam lifting off bare earth. The Bariv on the ceiling slowly took his hands away from his eyes and the red pupils glowed down at the two figures lying motionless on the brown earth.

  Then the image faded.

  “Were those your parents?” Sam almost felt guilty for breaking the silence.

  Bariv nodded.

  “But if that was so long ago, how are you still so young?”

  “A few hours later, I was found. I was still lying outside, unable to speak or move. But the snow around had melted and the ground remained warm. Otherwise, I surely would have died. I was brought here. It was a much different Atlas Crown back then—not nearly as many clans—but it still had the same charm. I was given food, shelter, and a new life.”

  Sam looked at Bariv curiously. “So what makes you a special case?”

  “I fill a niche.”

  “What niche?”

  “Something you won’t be able to grasp just yet. Before now, you were like a frog.”

  Sam’s expression turned glib. “A lion frog?”

  Bariv shook his head. “Just a frog.”

  “Why?”

  “Because a frog surrounded by dead flies will go hungry.”

  “Wow… you’re better at being cryptic than May.”

  “My apologies. I spend so much time alone I often forget how the outside world communicates.” He raised both palms. “A frog has a specialized brain. It is able to snatch a fly out of the air like lightning. It filters out everything else. It is the fly and the tongue. The problem is that without motion, the frog is helpless.”

  “So I’m helpless?”

  “No, you just weren’t able to see all those dead flies around you, and trust me when I tell you they’re everywhere. You are now one of the frog elite.”

  “Does that have anything to do with the Tembrath Elite?”

  Bariv looked impressed, but also wary. “Yes, it was Vigtor being clever. Tembrath Pond is where the lion frogs congregate. I told the same story to him when he was standing here before me.”

  “So, can I finally know who those guys are?”

  “They are fools.” Bariv flicked his wrist, which glowed blue for an instant and crackled with an electric flair.

  “Why?”

  “You need to know a few things before you can know that.”

  “Still?”

  Bariv snapped and more candles flicked to life around the room. At that moment, his eyes lost their red glow and became bright blue. Despite Bariv’s young appearance, something ancient lurked behind his gaze—something that made Sam feel small, but at the same time, connected.

  “Let’s start you off simply.” Bariv rested the backs of his hands on his knees. “What have you been told about the Veil?”

  Sam hesitated a moment. “That it’s all around and you grip it.”

  “Very good.” Bariv positioned his hands in front of him, and a thin bolt of electricity jumped from one hand to the other with a sharp zap. “Now, I assume you have been told about second-skins?”

  Sam put his hands in front of his chest like Bariv had done, but nothing happened.

  “The gloves?”

  “If you want to put it so crudely, yes, the gloves—although calling them such is like calling the sun a big light bulb.”

  “So, what do they do?”

  “They are items of magical importance, made from materials that have sprouted from the Veil, making it easier for sorcerers to use Her. Without the second-skin, gripping is much harder, almost impossible. When you try to grip a wet piece of ice, it will almost always slip through your fingers. The second-skin allows focused gripping and utilization of the wondrous Veil.”

  Bariv made a twirling motion with his hand and a chunk of ice appeared. “It helps you make as much friction as you need to hold onto the ice.”

  Sam imitated the movement, but again, nothing happened. “When do I get one of these second-skins?”

  Bariv twitched his pointer finger, and a piercing light erupted behind Sam. He turned to see a pedestal, about four feet off the ground, with three gloves upon it. On the left, a leafy green glove had thick vines branching along it. The center held a glove made of five thimbles connected by a thin chain to a central bracelet. The one on the right was made from skin with short brown fur.

  “These are what you will use to focus. These are second-skins that I have created for choosing purposes. As May has probably already explained to you, there are three disciplines of magic that come from the Veil. First, there are natural magics, which are best gripped with the aid of plants. The green second-skin is made from the leaf of the grampith tree.

  “Natural magics are very useful. They feed, they clothe, and help us interact with the world around us. We would not survive without them. Nature is dough and you shape it to your desires—if you are skilled enough. Mountains can be leveled and water can fall upwards. Nature’s secrets will whisk you away to another plane where you can realize the awe-inspiring connections we hold with the world around us.”

  Sam wanted it.

  “Next, there are the mystical magics. The metal second-skin was mined from beneath Grus’ pass and made from silver-palladium mixed by my own hand. A mystical sorcerer would use this second-skin. The mystical magics keep true to their namesake. Even I don’t fully understand all that can be accomplished with this, and I have been close to the Veil for a very long time. Those who excel at the mystical arts can r
each into the deepest, darkest parts of the mind and cast dreams into reality. They can navigate the vast and powerful river of time. Reap gold out of metals like a glorious harvest. Harness fear, and ride on its back until it tires.”

  Sam instantly forgot about the first glove.

  “And last… there is the second-skin made from the hide of Sectus Remisican, the skull-wolf. This is a tool of power magics. These tools work best if taken forcibly. In Atlas Crown, we do not kill when we do not have to; however, in this particular case we had to. The power sect is a dangerous one, yet it brings with it the ability to forge oneself into the greatest ruler and purveyor of dominance. Authority is a given. Supremacy is taken. The true power sect is scarcely found here. Those who have chosen it, or rather have been chosen, usually take the road down another path, a false path that can only lead to death and misery. However, when applied for good, the power sect can be the most useful of them all. An iron body has no need for a suit. That is what the Veil is at Her heart. She is power. She holds possibilities so grand, we can never understand, only observe.”

  Sam felt a trace of the energy that had passed through his body at the game, the power that had turned the whole world into stone while he alone was left mobile.

  “Now.” Bariv’s eyes returned to their fiery red. “Why don’t you go try one on?”

  CHAPTER 10

  “Repeating that over and over isn’t helping,” Sam growled.

  “Losing your patience will only set you back,” Bariv said. “Try again, with less anger this time. You must work with Her.”

  It had been two days. Two long days for Sam: getting yelled at, eating some sort of slop—well, calling it slop would be generous—and only stopping to sleep once, and that was more of a nap than sleep.

  “I’m trying, but I don’t feel anything.”

  “To try is the first step to success; it is also the last. You need to focus on the right landing.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense!” Sam yelled. “Stop talking like that!”

  Sam ripped off the skull-wolf glove and hurled it to the ground. After days of being told the same thing, he had pretty much resigned himself to accepting failure. He’d rather go home, anyway; getting thrown in jail for assault would be better than this nonsense.

  Time after time, Bariv made Sam attempt to grip the Veil and perform some particular feat. Particular turned into general and eventually general turned into anything at all. The problem was that even the simplest task involved feeling the Veil, which Sam just couldn’t seem to do. They took small breaks here and there, but other than Bariv explaining a few unimportant things about the history of the Veil, it was constant monotony. Bariv told Sam to sit in a corner and meditate for hours on end. Even after a lengthy explanation, Sam still didn’t get meditation or what it entailed. Although he didn’t tell Bariv that—so while sitting in the corner for excruciatingly long periods, he tried to remember the pass completions for every QB he knew.

  He had a newfound understanding of boredom.

  “Pick that up.” Bariv’s eyes hardened at the sight of the second-skin carelessly tossed on the ground.

  “I’m leaving.” Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m obviously in no danger of hurting anyone else.”

  “I said, pick it up.” The swirls on his cheeks took on an orange tinge.

  “I don’t care about any of this! See this?” Sam plucked at his jersey. “This is what my life is about. This is what it has always been about, and you and your stupid Veil had to go and ruin everything for me.”

  After a moment of silence, Bariv spoke. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Sam huffed.

  Bariv stood up and hopped off his platform. “I’ll make you a deal.”

  “What could you possibly offer me?”

  “Keep up the training, promise to stay here until you learn to control your power, and I will fix things for you.”

  Sam’s eyes narrowed. “How?”

  Bariv tapped the side of his head. “The Veil can do things you cannot possibly imagine, and I happen to be very close with Her.”

  “You… you can make things go back to normal?” Sam tried to keep the shaking out of his voice.

  “There will be no such thing as ‘normal’ for you now, but yes, I can right what has gone wrong. No one would remember what happened at the game. No one would even remember you left.”

  “You can do that?” Sam’s heart pounded. “I wouldn’t be in trouble anymore? I could still play football?”

  Bariv nodded. “If that is what you wish.”

  Sam thrust his hand forward. “Deal.”

  Bariv pointed a finger in warning. “But you must work hard while you are here, and you may not leave until it is safe.”

  “Safe from what, exactly?”

  “It is better that you do not know the particulars. But I will tell you this: getting close to the Veil will make things safer for you. So, the harder you train, the quicker you can leave. But I must warn you, there is a right and a wrong way to use the Veil. I know you are meant for this path, yet you have a choice of how to travel down it. In the near future, you will be tempted to take the easy route, but the Veil is not about ‘easy.’ She is about tenacity, courage, and spirit. You can steal a gift, but remember, you will not have earned it.”

  Sam couldn’t help but smile. “Whatever, be as cryptic as you want. As long as you make things right back home, I couldn’t care less.”

  “Then it is decided. Now, not another word about it. We have training to do.”

  “How long will it take?”

  Bariv thought for a moment, and then crouched to put his hands flat against the stone floor. Sam heard a small rumble coming from below them. It got louder and louder until it ended in the scraping sound of rock on rock. After a moment, a crack appeared in the stone, and a charred-looking chunk of rock popped out. Bariv was left holding a large lump of coal.

  Once standing, Bariv put his hands on either side of the coal and squeezed. A blinding red light filled the cave, and Bariv’s hands clapped together. When he opened them, he was holding a diamond about the size of an acorn.

  “It takes power to create a diamond—sheer force. It takes control to change it back into coal.” Bariv handed it to Sam. “Once you can do that, you are free to go.”

  Sam wondered how much a diamond like that would sell for back home.

  “Don’t lose it,” Bariv warned.

  Sam wrapped his hand around it. “So, once I can make this coal again, you’ll fix everything?”

  Bariv nodded.

  Sam placed it in the pocket that held one of his thigh pads, the stone pressing into his leg beneath the pad. “Let’s get to work.”

  He felt odd shaking hands with someone so short.

  Sam’s heart raced in his chest; he couldn’t believe that he could get a second chance. He was going to work himself to the bone if it got him home faster. From here on, he was going to take his training seriously.

  Who knows? Maybe this stuff could actually come in handy, once I learn how to use it.

  Bariv leapt back onto his podium. “Let’s try something else for a moment. Maybe I went about this the wrong way. Please, why don’t you have a seat in front of me?”

  Sam made his way back to the front of the stone stage where Bariv sat.

  “Traditionally,” Bariv said in a cool, dry voice, “I have taught all outsiders in a certain way. Most have responded beautifully to my methods, and have now integrated themselves as positive members of our society.”

  Sam sat down and relaxed.

  “However,” Bariv swayed back and forth, “I have forgotten that you are not like

  everyone else, and I must not treat you as such. As I’m sure May has told you, I am the one who is responsible for feeling the small ripples in the Veil when young sorcerers have their first grips. It does not happen very often in the world you come from, yet I have become acutely aware and increasingly accurate
at finding those young entities when it does. You, my young entity, created a tidal wave.”

  “Then why can’t I do any of this?” Sam twisted his head back toward the glowing podium. “I can’t even grip onto the Veil. Every time I do that focusing thing you taught me, nothing happens.”

  Bariv rubbed one of his swirled cheeks and a strong wind passed Sam’s face. “I guess for you, more contemporary methods must be pursued. Normally, one must learn to crawl before he can walk.” He paused. “I think I must teach you how to run.”

  With that, Bariv stood up like a lightning bolt. The boy waved his hand and the skull-wolf glove pulled itself over Sam’s fingers. Sam felt himself wrenched to his feet.

  All at once, a loud boom thundered around him and a blast of red came toward his face. As a reflex, he held up his arm to stop the oncoming flash. Instead of pain, he felt a rush of energy across his palm, and then something warm and comforting, like a blanket left sitting in a sunbeam. The feeling caressed his forearm, made its way down to his elbow, and suddenly disappeared.

  “Whoa.” Sam blinked a few times. “What just happened?”

  Bariv was standing with his arms out and his knees bent. “You were almost just beaten to a pulp.”

  Sam examined his hand. “What?”

  Bariv tilted in a small bow. “I sent a scorching ball of energy at you.”

  “What! Why would you do that?”

  “The real question is,” Bariv gave him an appreciative grin, “how did you stop it?”

  Sam’s clenched teeth slowly turned into a smile. “How did I stop it?”

  “That is between you and Her.”

  Sam’s cheeks rose even higher. “No c’mon. How did I do it?”

  “I assume you tapped into Her, and quite masterfully, as a matter of fact. If you hadn’t stopped that energy, I would’ve had my hands full healing you. Might’ve taken weeks.”

  “C’mon.”

  “So,” Bariv gave a single clap. “Now you know you have the ability. Self-fulfilling prophecies make everyone a prophet.”