by Garry Spoor
“That’s what I mean. Wasn’t it you who said controlling opposing spheres was difficult? That one could easily cancel the other out without you even knowing it?”
“That’s true. I’m surprised you remembered. From what I recall, you never cared much for the mystic arts.”
Kile laughed. “I still don’t. To me, none of it makes sense.”
“So, what are you getting at?” he asked.
“How many spheres have you studied?”
“Well, mystics don’t usually talk about such things.”
-Oh, don’t let the old codger fool you. He’s always bragging about it. He’s mastered three spheres. Water, fire, and earth, and he’s working on his fourth,- Kaza said.
Kile grinned. “Water and Fire,” she remarked.
Morgan shot the crow a dirty look. Kaza laughed at him.
“So, you’ve mastered them. How long did it take?” she asked.
“It’s not an easy task. It takes time and patience to separate two spheres and a lot of control to use one without interference from the other.”
“And that’s only two spheres,” Kile said. “Imagine if you had to do all eight.”
2
Kile sat on her bed, staring at the floor. She had a lot to think about and wasn’t sure what to think about first. She had come to the Tower with the hope of finding answers. She found answers, but not the ones she wanted. It also didn’t help when those answers came wrapped in more questions.
The good news was, she wasn’t going mad. She was as sane as any Orceen. The bad news was, nobody could tell her how sane the Orceen were. Were they all driven to this distraction, slowly losing their minds to the natural world, slowly losing their identities to all the animals they’d touched? Maybe that’s where all the Orceen disappeared to. They all ran screaming into the night, never to be seen again. Or maybe they never left. Maybe they were still around, maybe they’d completely lost themselves to the natural world to such a point they became the very animals they communed with. Where did that leave her? Would she wake up one day as a yarrow or a mountain pony?
She couldn’t see herself as a yarrow. Seeing the world through Vesper’s eyes was rather disorienting. It was always difficult to gauge size and distance, but then again, if she was a yarrow, maybe she would have a better grasp of the space around her. Of course, there was always the problem of everything trying to eat you. Mountain ponies never had that problem as long as they stayed away from the north folk. Mountain ponies also had the advantage of a bad reputation and people naturally avoided them. That was something she could get used to. But she was forgetting the Callor hounds. Although she may not have spent as much time with them as she did with Grim and Vesper, the sheer number of dogs should count for something. Being one of the hounds had its own advantages. For starters, she would be a member of a pack, but could she get used to being owned by a vir? That part didn’t seem too appealing. Now wolves, on the other hand, had the best of both worlds. They had the pack and the bad reputation, not to mention, she’d always had a strong connection with wolves ever since her days back home in Riverport.
The opening of the bedroom door brought Kile back to her senses. She looked up to see Emara standing in the threshold. The young mystic was dressed in a long, multicolored robe, the one that gave Kile a headache if she stared at it for too long. It definitely wasn’t standard issue for the Tower and no self-respecting mystic would be seen wearing one. Emara was also sporting a new hair color; this time it was bright yellow. It wasn’t blond, not by a long shot. Her hair was yellow, as in the color of a lemon.
“You’re back early,” Emara remarked, closing the door behind her.
“Yeah, there doesn’t appear to be much more they can do for me,” Kile said.
“Does that mean you’re cured?”
She laughed. “I’m not really sure. They seem to think there was nothing wrong with me to start with.”
“But what about your… episodes?”
“I’ve learned how to handle them, but there’s nothing more they can teach me here.”
Emara sat down on her bed, pulling her legs up under her robe. She looked like a wrinkled rainbow in need of repair. “Does that mean you’re leaving?”
“I’m afraid so,” Kile said.
“So, what now? Will you be going back to your Guild?”
“I suppose so, at least for the time being. I’ll report to the Guild Hall in Littenbeck and try to get in touch with Guild Master Latherby. After that, I guess I’ll play it by ear.”
“When are you leaving?” Emara asked. Kile could tell she was upset. The mystic didn’t have many friends at the Tower. Although she was still a student, she was never given the opportunity to mingle with the other apprentices. She was kept isolated by her studies and by her title. Being the next Grand Magus was a pretty lonely position.
She’d been only fourteen when they brought her to the Tower to start her studies. The same age Kile was when she took the entry examination to get into the Hunter’s Academy. Kile only had to spend three years at the Academy and one month on probation before she earned her certificate. Emara still had a few more years to go before she could officially call herself a mystic, more years after that before she became a master, and even more years after that before she became the Grand Magus. All in all, she had a long road ahead of her.
“I suppose I could stick around, for a day or two,” Kile said.
Emara’s eyes lit up as a big grin crossed her face. “Tell you what, let’s blow this place,” she said, jumping off her bed.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, let’s go have some fun. Let’s get out of here. This place can be so dreadfully boring at times.”
“Don’t you have your studies to think about?”
“That’s all I’ve been thinking about. I need some laughs, and it looks like you could do with a few too.”
“I don’t know, Emara. Won’t Master Tallo be annoyed?”
“Oh, he’ll get over it. He usually does. Come on, Ki.”
Kile had mixed feeling about leaving the Tower. One side of her wanted to seize the opportunity and make a run for it; the other side was scared of stepping out from under the Tower’s protection. They told her there was nothing wrong with her, that she could handle whatever was out there. But how did they know?
“Where should we go?” she heard herself ask.
“Baxter’s Bay,” Emara said, without skipping a beat. “We can hit the spas, maybe do a little shopping, even take in a show before dinner. What do you say?”
“Well, let me get dressed first. I don’t think I’ll be all that comfortable walking around town in these robes.”
“I don’t know, you get used to them.” Emara shrugged.
Kile recovered her clothes, from the trunk at the foot of her bed and went into the lavatory to change. It had been a long time since she wore real clothes, and it was surprisingly liberating when she pulled on her pants. She had almost forgotten she had legs. They had been hidden by her robes for the last three months. After buttoning her shirt and tying her boots, she looked at herself in the mirror and was surprised by the change that came over her. She felt more like herself again now that she was back in her uniform. She was in control, as if she could take on anything the world had to throw at her, if only her hair wasn’t still green.
Stepping out of the lavatory, Kile pointed to her hair. “Did you ever…?”
“Oh, that,” Emara said sheepishly. “Well, you see… I’m sorry, Ki. I couldn’t find a way to reverse it, at least not one that will actually work, and I didn’t think you’d want me to try something untested. But don’t worry. I was right—the charm is temporary.”
“How temporary?”
“It should wear off in a day or two. I’m sorry, Ki. I really did try.”
Wonderful. This wouldn’t go unnoticed. Her only choice now was to stick around the Tower until her hair returned to normal. At least it gave her an excuse to postpone le
aving. She couldn’t go back to the Guild looking like a vegetable.
Sadly, her first reaction to Emara’s news was to get mad at the mystic, but was that her reaction, or was she channeling Grim? Then again, if she actually thought about it, would that have been the pony’s reaction? In truth, he didn’t give a tinker’s damn what people thought about him. He always said what he wanted to say and did what he wanted to do, and the rest of the world would have to take him as he was.
Maybe it wasn’t so bad having the mountain pony’s personality rub off on her after all.
“It’s okay,” Kile said, waving it off. “I’ve kind of grown used to it.”
“I can make it permanent,” Emara said.
“Don’t even.”
“Hey, it was just a thought.”
Grabbing the satchel from where it hung on the wall, Kile slung it over her shoulder and held it open for Vesper to climb in. “So, how do we get there? Do we ride?” she asked.
“Ride? Why do you want to ride when I can zap us there?”
The thought of traveling by magic sent a chill down her spine. She had done it before, three times, but only once successfully, and that was when Morgan sent them into the woods to start their survival exam. The two trips she had taken with Emara were nearly disastrous. One placed her in the middle of a lake, miles from where she was supposed to be. The other, although on target, had them appear three feet above the ground.
“Maybe we can walk,” Kile suggested.
“That would take days,” Emara replied.
“I’m in no rush.”
“Come on, give me a chance. I’m getting better at this. Hold on.”
Hold on? Hold on to what? Before Kile could grab anything, everything was gone.
She was suddenly light-headed as the ground beneath her disappeared. She couldn’t tell if she was flying, falling, or something in between. Fortunately, the feeling didn’t last long as her weight quickly came back to her. When her feet hit the ground, she lost balance and stumbled forward, taking out three shoppers and a display case. Emara had only done slightly better as the mystic untangled herself from one of the clothes racks.
“What is going on here,” a woman screamed, storming across the room.
They landed in the middle of a crowded boutique.
It was like the world exploded in Kile’s head. The quiet solitude of the Tower was suddenly replaced by the sheer chaos of the outside world. People were screaming obscenities. The display case, which had fallen to the floor, spilled an assortment of perfumes. Any one of them might have been pleasant. Mix a dozen of them together and the smell was stifling. The lights in the shop were so much brighter than the gloom of the Tower, Kile had to shield her eyes as she searched for an escape route.
As the shopkeeper pushed her way through the gathering crowd, Kile grabbed Emara’s hand and made for the exit.
“Sorry for the mess. You can send the bill to the Tower,” Emara called out as Kile pulled her out the door and into the streets of Baxter’s Bay.
~~~***~~~
Baxter’s Bay was a small town founded on an island at the base of a lazy volcano. Its only means of revenue were fishing and a variety of lava rock prized by blacksmiths and collectors. That was before the hot springs were discovered. Once the first spa opened, it became a tourist attraction overnight. It wasn’t long before shops, pubs, restaurants, theaters, and even gambling halls started popping up, all trying to cash in on the new fad. Pretty soon, Baxter’s Bay became the destination of choice. Everybody knew about it—everybody but Kile. She had never heard of the place, not until she was at the Academy, and at the time, it was simply the name of a town she never thought she would actually visit.
Erin Silvia praised the spas and the shopping. Garret Treeman wanted to be stationed there during his probationary period, but he was sent to Grover’s Den. Even King Roland suggested it was a place to visit, at least once. Now that Kile was finally here, she wasn’t impressed.
Baxter’s Bay wasn’t as organized as any of the other cities. It looked as if someone threw all the buildings in the air, and where they landed, that’s where they stayed. The way people spoke about the place, she was expecting to see streets of gold and buildings of white marble etched in silver. Instead it was a hodgepodge of architecture. None of the structures matched and each building looked like it was trying to outdo the one next to it.
The people were equally mixed and appeared to be from every walk of life, from lords and ladies, all the way down to farmers and ditchdiggers.
All in all, Kile would have preferred to have landed in a nice quiet forest.
“Sorry about the landing,” Emara said when they finally slowed down enough for her to catch her breath. “My aim’s usually not that bad.”
“It’s all right.” Kile waved it off. “I suppose it was a good a test as any.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think three months ago, I might have reacted quite differently in that situation, with my senses on overload like that.”
It was true. Three months ago a situation like that could have put her into feral mode. It wouldn’t have been the first time. The yellow eyes, the growling, it was not a pretty sight. She would have had those shoppers running out into the streets.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Emara asked.
“Yeah, I’m sure. Why?”
“You don’t look it.”
“Why? What color are my eyes?” she asked. She couldn’t help but notice the people on the street were giving them a wide berth and sideways glances as they passed.
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Emara said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “They’re normal. It’s probably your hair everyone’s staring at.”
Kile pulled the hood of her cloak up over her head. “Then what did you mean?”
“Come on, Ki, this is Baxter’s Bay. This is the first time you’ve ever been here. Aren’t you excited?”
“Not exactly.”
Emara’s smile disappeared and Kile felt bad. The mystic was only trying to cheer her up and here she was bringing the girl down.
“It’s not you, Em, it’s me. I’m not much of a city person. So… I guess you’re going to have to show me around.”
Emara grinned. “Follow me.” And they were off before Kile knew it.
~~~***~~~
Emara had been to Baxter’s Bay too many times. She knew every inch of the place and led Kile down the narrow streets and back alleys to avoid the crowds. They even passed through a few buildings on their never-ending shopping quest. It didn’t matter where they stopped; Emara found something to buy. Most of her purchases were of the crafting variety and included bulks of material and threads. Kile learned that Emara was a deft hand at sewing and was responsible for creating all of her multicolored robes. Kile, on the other hand, bought very little. There truly wasn’t anything she needed or wanted. Hunters were like vagabonds. They traveled light with everything they owned in the packs. Burdening themselves with needless things only slowed them down. She did, however, buy a new pair of practical boots, even though Emara insisted the bright red ones would bring out the color of her hair if it ever returned to normal.
Emara kept putting all the things she bought into the same bag, which never seemed to fill up. Kile was sure the mystic arts were involved in some way, though she wasn’t sure how. Either everything that went into the bag shrank, or it was somehow transported back to the Tower. Regardless, she didn’t trust it and decided to hold on to her own items. Besides the boots, she bought a new hat to replace the one she lost during the siege of Moran; a large box of peppermint imps, something she hadn’t indulged in since her time at the Academy; and a small silver flute.
As the evening wore on, Emara led Kile to a small pub right off the main street, with the interesting name of The Purple Puffin. As far as pubs go, it didn’t stand out as anything extraordinary, at least not on the outside. If Emara hadn’t been with her, Kile would have mistaken it for yet ano
ther warehouse and passed it by. She didn’t notice the small painting of a purple puffin over the door until the mystic pointed it out to her.
The inside was a different story. The place was packed. All the tables were taken and the bar was filled to capacity. There were even people standing around the entrance, hoping to be seated. Kile was about to suggest they find someplace less busy when a stout man with blond hair and a bushy mustache quickly approached.
“Miss Lon,” he bellowed as he pushed people aside.
“Mr. Lewis, I hope we’re not late.”
“Not at all. Please, your table is still free,” he said and led them back through the crowd.
Kile followed nervously as they made their way to the far side of the room. Too many people, too many smells, too much noise, but so far she was keeping it together.
Mr. Lewis stopped at the only empty table in the place and motioned for them to sit. It was a small round table with four chairs and a purple tablecloth. A basket of breadsticks sat in the middle.
“We weren’t sure you were coming today,” he said with a grin and eyed Kile suspiciously.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Mr. Lewis, this is a friend of mine. Emily Doyle, a new mystic from the Tower.”
Suddenly all of Kile’s little red flags were flying.
Mr. Lewis accepted the name with a big grin. “The more the merrier,” he said loudly. “Can I get you anything before the show starts?”
“An ice wine would be nice if you still have it in stock,” Emara said.
“Of course we do, and what about you… Miss Doyle.”
“Me? Oh, a tea, if you have any,” Kile said.
“Certainly. Would you like to try our house blend, or do you have some other preferences?”
“No, the house blend will be fine.”
“Wonderful. I’ll see to it right away.”
Kile waited until Mr. Lewis was out of earshot before turning on Emara.
“What is going on here, and who is Emily Doyle?”
