Tyen followed, keeping as close as possible to Miko so that he didn’t have to stretch his shield far to cover them both. Stealing glances at the people below, he saw that they were hurrying up the slope, but the loose scree was slowing them down. The sorceress walked along the bottom, following them. He hoped this meant that, after using magic, she needed to move from the area she had depleted to access more. That would mean her reach wasn’t as good as his.
She stopped and the air rippled before her, a pulse that rushed towards him. Realising that Miko had drawn ahead, Tyen drew more magic and spread the shield out to protect him.
The scree exploded a short distance below their feet. Tyen ignored the stones and dust bounding off his shield and hurried to catch up with Miko. His friend reached a crack in the cliff face. Setting his feet in the rough sides of the narrow opening and grasping the edges, he began to climb. Tyen tilted his head back. Though the crack continued a long way up the cliff face it didn’t reach the top. Instead, at a point about three times his height, it widened to form a narrow cave.
“This looks like a bad idea,” he muttered. Even if they didn’t slip and break a limb, or worse, once in the cave they’d be trapped.
“It’s our only option. They’ll catch us if we head downhill,” Miko said in a tight voice, without taking his attention from climbing. “Don’t look up. Don’t look down either. Just climb.”
Though the crack was almost vertical, the edges were pitted and uneven, providing plenty of hand- and footholds. Swallowing hard, Tyen swung his satchel around to his back so he wouldn’t crush Beetle between himself and the wall. He set his fingers and toes in the rough surface and hoisted himself upward.
At first it was easier than he’d expected, but soon his fingers, arms and legs were tiring and hurting from the strain. I should have exercised more before coming here. I should have joined a sports club. Then he shook his head. No, there’s no exercise I could have done that would have boosted these muscles except climbing cliff walls, and I’ve not heard of any clubs that consider that a recreational activity.
The shield behind him shuddered at a sudden impact. He fed more magic to it, trying not to picture himself squashed like a bug on the cliff wall. Was Miko right about the locals? Would they dare to kill him? Or was the priestess simply gambling that he was a good enough sorcerer to ward off her attacks?
“Nearly there,” Miko called.
Ignoring the fire in his fingers and calves, Tyen glanced up and saw Miko disappear into the cave. Not far now, he told himself. He forced his aching limbs to push and pull, carrying him upward towards the dark shadow of safety. Glancing up again and again, he saw he was a body’s length away, then close enough that an outstretched arm would reach it. A vibration went through the stone beneath his hand and chips flew off the wall nearby. He found another foothold, pushed up, grabbed a handhold, pulled, felt the cool shadow of the cave on his face …
… then hands grabbed his armpits and hauled him up.
Miko didn’t stop pulling until Tyen’s legs were inside the cave. It was so narrow that Tyen’s shoulders scraped along the walls. Looking downward, he saw that there was no floor to the fissure. The walls on either side simply drew closer together to form a crack that continued beneath him. Miko was bracing his boots on the walls on either side.
That “floor” was not level either. It sloped downward as the cave deepened, so Tyen’s head was now lower than his legs. He felt the book slide up the inside of his shirt and tried to grab it, but Miko’s arms got in the way. The book dropped down into the crack. He cursed and quickly created a flame. The book had come to rest far beyond his reach even if his arms had been skinny enough to fit into the gap.
Miko let go and gingerly turned around to examine the cave. Ignoring him, Tyen pushed himself up into a crouch. He drew his bag around to the front and opened it. “Beetle,” he hissed. The little machine stirred, then scurried out and up onto his arm. Tyen pointed at the crack. “Fetch book.”
Beetle’s wings buzzed an affirmative, then its body whirred as it scurried down Tyen’s arm and into the crack. It had to spread its legs wide to fit in the narrow space where the book had lodged. Tyen breathed a sigh of relief as its tiny pincers seized the spine. As it emerged Tyen grabbed Vella and Beetle together and slipped them both inside his satchel.
“Hurry up! The professor’s here!”
Tyen stood up. Miko looked upwards and pressed a finger to his lips. A faint, rhythmic sound echoed in the space.
“In the aircart?” Tyen shook his head. “I hope he knows the priestess is throwing rocks at us or it’s going to be a very long journey home.”
“I’m sure he’s prepared for a fight.” Miko turned away and continued along the crack. “I think we can climb up here. Come over and bring your light.”
Standing up, Tyen made his way over. Past Miko the crack narrowed again, but rubble had filled the space, providing an uneven, steep, natural staircase. Above them was a slash of blue sky. Miko started to climb, but the rubble began to dislodge under his weight.
“So close,” he said, looking up. “Can you lift me up there?”
“Maybe…” Tyen concentrated on the magical atmosphere. Nobody had used magic in the cave for a long time. It was as smoothly dispersed and still as a pool of water on a windless day. And it was plentiful. He’d still not grown used to how much stronger and available magic was outside towns and cities. Unlike in the metropolis, where magic was constantly surging towards a more important use, here power pooled and lapped around him like a gentle fog. He’d only encountered Soot, the residue of magic that lingered everywhere in the city, in small, quickly dissipating smudges. “Looks possible,” Tyen said. “Ready?”
Miko nodded.
Tyen drew a deep breath. He gathered magic and used it to still the air before Miko in a small, flat square.
“Step forward,” he instructed.
Miko obeyed. Strengthening the square to hold the young man’s weight, Tyen moved it slowly upwards. Throwing his arms out to keep his balance, Miko laughed nervously.
“Let me check there’s nobody waiting up there before you lift me out,” he called down to Tyen. After peering out of the opening, he grinned. “All clear.”
As Miko stepped off the square a shout came from the cave entrance. Tyen twisted around to see one of the locals climbing inside. He drew magic to push the man out again, then hesitated. The drop outside could kill him. Instead he created another shield inside the entrance.
Looking around, he sensed the scarring of the magical atmosphere where it had been depleted, but more magic was already beginning to flow in to replace it. He took a little more to form another square then, hoping the locals would do nothing to spoil his concentration, stepped onto it and moved it upwards.
He’d never liked lifting himself, or anyone else, like this. If he lost focus or ran out of magic he’d never have time to recreate the square. Though it was possible to move a person rather than still the air below them, a lack of concentration or moving parts of them at different rates could cause injury or even death.
Reaching the top of the crack, Tyen emerged into sunlight. Past the edge of the cliff a large, lozenge-shaped hot-air-filled capsule hovered – the aircart. He stepped off the square onto the ground and hurried over to join Miko at the cliff edge.
The aircart was descending into the valley, the bulk of the capsule blocking the chassis hanging below it and its occupants from Tyen’s view. Villagers were gathered at the base of the crack, some clinging to the cliff wall. The priestess was part way up the scree slope but her attention was now on the aircart.
“Professor!” he shouted, though he knew he was unlikely to be heard over the noise of the propellers. “Over here!”
The craft floated further from the cliff. Below, the priestess made a dramatic gesture, entirely for show since magic didn’t require fancy physical movements. Tyen held his breath as a ripple of air rushed upward, then let it go as the force abrup
tly dispelled below the aircart with a dull thud that echoed through the valley.
The aircart began to rise. Soon Tyen could see below the capsule. The long, narrow chassis came into view, shaped rather like a canoe, with propeller arms extending to either side and a fan-like rudder at the rear. Professor Kilraker was in the driver’s seat up front; his middle-aged servant, Drem, and the other student, Neel, stood clutching the rope railing and the struts that attached chassis to capsule. The trio would see him and Miko, if only they would turn around and look his way. He shouted and waved his arms, but they continued peering downward.
“Make a light or something,” Miko said.
“They won’t see it,” Tyen said, but he took yet more magic and formed a new flame anyway, making it larger and brighter than the earlier ones in the hope it would be more visible in the bright sunlight. To his surprise, the professor looked over and saw them.
“Yes! Over here!” Miko shouted.
Kilraker turned the aircart to face the cliff edge, its propellers swivelling and buzzing. Bags and boxes had been strapped to either end of the chassis, suggesting there had not been time to pack their luggage in the hollow inside. At last the cart moved over the cliff top in a gust of familiar smells. Tyen breathed in the scent of resin-coated cloth, polished wood and pipe smoke and smiled. Miko grabbed the rope railing strung around the chassis, ducked under it and stepped on board.
“Sorry, boys,” Kilraker said. “Expedition’s over. No point sticking around when the locals get like this. Brace yourselves for some ear popping. We’re going up.”
As Tyen swung his satchel around to his back, ready to climb aboard, he thought of what lay inside. He didn’t have any treasure to show off, but at least he had found something interesting. Ducking under the railing rope, he settled onto the narrow deck, legs dangling over the side. Miko sat down beside him. The aircart began to ascend rapidly, its nose slowly turning towards home.
CHAPTER 2
It was impossible to be gloomy when flying with a steady tail wind on a clear, beautiful night. The bright reds and oranges of the setting sun had ended the banter between Miko and Neel, and an appreciative silence had fallen. Leratia’s capital and home of the Academy, Belton, could put on some grand sunsets, but they were always tainted by smoke and steam.
To Tyen’s senses, the aircart appeared to have a bow wave. Unlike a boat in water, the ripple in the atmosphere was caused by the removal, not displacement, of something: magic. In its place the dark shadow of Soot remained, and trailed behind them like smoke. Soot was hard to describe to anyone who couldn’t sense it. It was merely the absence of magic, but when fresh it had texture, as if a residue had been left in magic’s place. It moved, too – shrinking as magic slowly flowed in to fill the void.
As Tyen drew in more magic to power the propellers and heat the air in the capsule he relished the opportunity to use magic without restraint. It felt good to use it, he reflected, but it wasn’t a physical pleasure. More like the buzz you feel when something you’re making is all coming together exactly as you planned, he thought. Like the satisfaction he’d felt when making Beetle, and the other little mechanical novelties he sold to help finance his education.
While it was not difficult driving the aircart, it did demand concentration. Tyen knew that his skill with sorcery had guaranteed him a place on the expedition, as it meant Professor Kilraker didn’t have to do all the driving.
“Getting chilly,” Drem said to nobody in particular. Kilraker’s manservant had dug around in the luggage earlier, careful to avoid losing any of it overboard, and found their airmen’s jackets, hoods, scarves and gloves. Tyen had been relieved to know his bag must be in the pile somewhere, not left behind in the rush to leave Mailand.
A hand touched his shoulder and he looked up to see the professor nod at him.
“Rest, Tyen. I’ll take us from here to Palga.”
Letting his pull on magic go, Tyen rose and, holding the tensioned rope railing for balance, stepped around Kilraker so the man could take the driver’s seat. He paused, considering asking why Kilraker had let him dig where the Mailanders hadn’t wanted them to, but said nothing. He knew the answer. Kilraker did not care about the Mailanders’ feelings or traditions. The Academy expected him and his students to bring back treasures, and that was more important to him. In every other way, Tyen admired the man and wanted to be more like him, but he’d come to see on this journey that the professor had flaws. He supposed everyone had. He probably had a few as well. Miko was always telling him he was well behaved to the point of being boring. That didn’t mean he, or Kilraker, weren’t likeable. Or so he hoped.
Miko and Neel were sitting with their legs dangling over one side at the central, widest, point of the chassis, while Drem sat cross-legged on the opposite side for balance, surprisingly flexible for a man of his age. Settling on the same side as the servant, but a small distance away, Tyen took off his gloves, tucked them in his jacket pocket and drew the book out of his satchel. It was still warm. Perhaps he had imagined it earlier and now it only gave off the body heat it had gained from Tyen himself through the satchel pressed to his side. In the hours since then he’d almost convinced himself he’d imagined the conversation he’d had with it, though he hoped not.
He ought to hand her over to Kilraker now, but the man was busy and Tyen wanted to establish exactly what he’d found first.
“So, Tyen,” Neel said. “Miko says you found a sarcophagus in that tomb. Was there any treasure in it?”
Tyen looked down at the book. “No treasure,” he found himself saying.
“No jewellery? None of those baubles we found in the other caves?”
“Nothing like that. The occupant must have been poor when he died. The coffin lid wasn’t even carved.”
“Nobody buries poor men in stone coffins. Robbers must’ve got in there. That’s gotta be annoying, after you wasted all that time working out where a tomb might be.”
“Then they were very considerate robbers,” Tyen retorted, letting a little of his annoyance enter his voice. “They put the lid back on the coffin.”
Miko laughed. “More likely they had a sense of humour. Or feared the corpse would come after them if they didn’t.”
Tyen shook his head. “There were some interesting paintings on the walls. If we ever go back…”
“I don’t know if anyone will be going back there for a while. The Mailanders tried to kill us.”
Tyen shook his head. “The Academy will sort it out. Besides, if I’m only drawing the pictures on the walls, not taking anything away, the villagers might not object.”
“Not take anything? Maybe when you’re rich and can pay for your own expeditions.” From Neel’s tone, he didn’t expect rich was something Tyen would ever be.
It’s all right for him. Dumb as a brick, but family so wealthy and important he’ll pass no matter what his marks are or how little work he puts in. Still, Neel was genuinely interested in history and did study hard. He idolised the famous explorers and was determined that he’d be able to hold a conversation with one if the opportunity came.
Sighing, Tyen opened the book. It was too dark to see the page now, so he created a tiny flame and set it hovering above his hands. Making a flame involved moving a tiny bit of air so quickly it grew hot and began to burn the air around it. Refining it to such a small light took concentration but, like a repetitive dance step, once he got it going he could focus on something else. When he fanned through the pages he was disappointed to see that the text that had appeared before was gone. He shook his head and was about to close the book again when a line appeared, lengthening and curling across a page. He opened the book at the new text.
You lied about finding me.
He blinked, but the words remained.
You’re not what they’d consider “treasure”. Wait … how do you know that? I hadn’t opened you yet.
I only need someone to touch me. When they do I can form a connection to thei
r mind.
You can read my mind?
Yes. How else could I form words in your language?
Can you alter anything there?
No.
I hope you’re not lying about being unable to lie.
I am not. I am also as open to you as you are to me. Whatever information you ask for, I must give. But, of course, you must first know that information exists, and that I contain it.
Tyen frowned. I suppose there had to be a price to using you, as with all magical objects.
This is how I gather knowledge quickly and truthfully.
I have the better side of the deal, then. You can hold a lot more knowledge than I do, though it will depend on what was known by the people who have held you. So what can you tell me?
You study history and magic. Obviously I can’t tell you about the last six hundred years because I was in the tomb, but I existed for many centuries before then. I have been held by great sorcerers, historians, as well as philosophers, astronomers, scientists, healers and strategists.
Tyen felt his heartbeat quicken. How much easier would it be to learn and impress his tutors with a book like this at his disposal? No more searching the library and studying late into the night.
Well, not as much of it, anyway. Her knowledge was at least six hundred years old, and much had changed in that time. A great revolution in reason and scientific practice had occurred. She could be full of errors. After all, she had collected knowledge from people, and even famous, brilliant people made mistakes and had been proven wrong.
On the other hand, if the Academy was wrong about something he couldn’t use her to convince them. For a start, they’d never accept one source, no matter how remarkable. They would not accept her as proof of anything until they’d established how accurate she was. And then they’d decide she had more important uses than allowing a student to satisfy his curiosity, or take short cuts with his education.
Your friends and teacher keep some discoveries for themselves. Why shouldn’t you keep me?
Thief's Magic Page 2
