He laughed. Indeed. Can you place another barrier, dear-heart?
Of course.
After he felt the pulse, the water dripping from him made flickers of light appear as they struck her barrier. He lowered himself until his feet found purchase then removed the levitation spell. Water slowly pooled around him and ran off the sides, eliciting faint shimmers.
My increased weight from being wet will affect how long it takes me to rise and fall.
Should I land and wait for you to dry?
I think so. Even though your dive isn’t all that fast, the difference of even a second could mean missing the saddle and even you. Getting the timing down with the added weight of the water won’t help when I am dry.
Okay. She flew to the side of the lake, several dozen yards away, and landed. She circled a spot and lay down.
Three more tries ended in three more plunges into the lake.
Dripping again on the barrier, Aeron was ready to give up. We’ve been at this for hours. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.
What if I stop under you and hover, waiting for you to land on my back?
Can you do that?
Of course.
Hmm. Okay, let’s try that. Because you will be waiting for me to fall onto you, you should have me start the slide a bit later.
Just so. Let me know when you are dry enough. She headed for shore.
Thankfully, he wasn’t wearing riding gear, other than the goggles, belt, and straps. The leather riding gear would not have dried anywhere near as fast as the cloth of the clothing he wore.
When he was once again dry, Aeron once again verified that he held the safety strap clip properly and then positioned his feet in the slide stance. Or perhaps he should call it the jump stance?
He looked over to where Anaya lay on the distant shore. Let’s try this.
She lifted off and headed away for her approach. Once far enough, she banked around, and wings beating, flew toward him.
Watching and waiting, Aeron readied himself, crouching slightly.
Now!
Magic power pulsed, and higher and higher he rose.
Anaya soared his direction at speed, large eyes throwing off an occasional glint.
He reached the top of his rise and began to fall.
Anaya’s glide quickly brought her close. Wings pounding to halt her forward motion and to hover, she stopped several feet below, and stared up at him.
His eyes widened. The angle of your body is too steep!
Worry not.
Oh shit, oh shit! He’d also forgotten that he’d be facing backward!
She ceased beating her wings, and as she began to fall herself, her back leveled out. Aeron’s legs slid to the sides of the saddle, and his butt hit.
Facing her tail, he grabbed the handholds of the middle seat and blinked.
The strap!
Right. It gave off a little metallic click when he clipped it to one of the safety rings on the saddle. Got it.
Anaya began beating her wings again, which pushed his body toward her tail.
Oof! Eyes wide, he gripped the handholds of the middle seat even tighter. Facing the opposite direction was a completely different experience!
Staring at her tail, he realized that it had worked. Smiling, he raised an arm. “YEAH!”
Her rumbling laugh pulsed through the saddle just before she let out her own happy roar. Now, we must practice with you facing away from my approach.
His heart pulsed and started beating fast. Right.
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, but not being able to see anything would be a bit nerve-wracking.
As when they started, she placed a barrier just above the lake and hovered over it. He levitated himself down onto it, and she flew off to get ready.
Aeron watched her bank around toward him. Simple as pie, right? He swallowed, took a breath and let it out, then faced away from her. Safety strap clip in-hand, he prepared the slide spell.
He moved into the stance. I’m ready.
Good. I come.
The branches of the trees on the shore waved gently in a breeze. This far into the lake, it was strangely silent. No quiet sound of waves lapping the shore or pilings on a pier or the side of a boat, just the faintest whisper of the wind.
Had it always taken her this long to reach him?
Now!
He twitched a little in surprise, but managed to activate the slide spell. As he rose, he looked down. Any moment now, she’d appear. Any moment. Aaaaaaany—Where was she!
Her laughter came through the link. You worry too much.
He began his slow fall and still no Anaya. Just as he was beginning to panic, she was there, hovering below.
Her wings stilled and pulled in a little, leveling out her body. His legs slipped over each side of the saddle, and his butt smacked onto it. He grabbed the handhold and clipped on the strap. Ready!
Her wings spread, began beating, and Anaya lifted them out of their fall.
Below, the surface of the lake glittered with reflected sunlight.
Perfect!
It was. Now we will do it again. A pulse of magic came from her. The barrier spell.
He chuckled. Right.
As they continued to practice the trick, he thought of a golden way to use it. Nothing like drama and excitement to start off a show. The more exciting it was, the more applicants it might inspire. He smiled and nodded. A talk with the Guildmaster was in order so that he could find out what she thought about the idea. If she liked it, he’d show it to the others.
+ + + + +
Quillan shoved the book away, leaned back in the chair, and let out a groan of frustration. He’d made a fool of himself!
“What is it?”
He glanced sideways at Elizabeth. She was visiting the workshop again. He’d offered her the desk chair when she arrived, owing to her broken leg, but she declined, insisting the stool would serve.
He sat up. “In this afternoon’s Magic Craft lesson, I made obvious my lack of sufficient training.”
With a slight grimace, she adjusted the position of her injured leg. “How so? I thought you took some sorcery as part of Machine Engineering.”
“I did. But it was focused learning, meaning only that which is required for the craft. There are aspects of magic I am not completely familiar with.”
“Hmm. Do they not have lesson plans so that you can study in advance should you wish?”
His cheeks heated up. “That wasn’t the issue. A discussion about the lesson took a bit of a tangent, and I asked a question that made it plain I wasn’t familiar with the concept being discussed.”
“And everyone else was.”
He sighed. “Yes.”
“Well, moping about it won’t help. What was the concept, anyway?”
“How familiar are you with sorcery?”
“I know a little.”
“Do you know the difference between an active spell and a passive one?”
She nodded. “Sure. Once you cast a passive spell, you’re primarily done. An active one, on the other hand, remains connected to you, still requires your attention.”
“Essentially, yes. There are a few reasons an active spell would be classed as such, but the one under discussion was continued animus drain. Active spells continue to draw animus from the caster. If that goes on long enough, the sorcerer eventually loses consciousness.”
“And the concept being discussed had to do with that?”
“Yes. As you probably also know, magic itself exists as latent power all around, and spells harness that power and direct it. Well, about sixty years ago, a Magic Craft researcher discovered that certain crystals, when placed under pressure, emit a small pulse of magic power. The process was reversible, too, meaning if you apply magic power to the crystal, it deforms in a direct relationship to the amount of power applied. Her discovery of those curious aspects of the crystals eventually led to most of the magi-mechanical devices we have today.”
&
nbsp; Elizabeth shifted on the stool. “Okay. But how does that pertain?”
He chuckled. “Someone in class wondered if there was a way to construct a spell so that animus wasn’t needed at all. Those piezomagical crystals don’t need animus to access and emit power. And while the crystals only emit a short pulse, why can’t a spell be designed to operate without animus? If they could, many active spells could be converted to passive. My question about one of the reasons given as to why it was not possible was where I tripped myself up.”
“I see.” She watched him with a slight curve to her lips. “I never did understand why some spells are active.”
Quillan stared at her. Chanté had that same look when they talked about any of the projects. What were he and Nantli up to, anyway?
“Quillan?”
“Hmm? Oh!” He shook his head. “Ah, well, like I mentioned, animus drain. If a spell constantly creates something, it will constantly drain animus and will thus be classed as an active spell.”
“Constantly creates something?” She tilted her head. “Like what?”
“Light, for example, or heat.” He grabbed a metal probe from the clutter on the desk and held it up. “Safisha’s Flame is an active spell.” He wove the sorcerous fire enchantment and stared at the violet flames as they wavered and flickered along the top third of the rod. They were a little mesmerizing.
The quickly increasing heat of the rod drew his attention. “These flames are being created moment to moment, flames that burn very hot. I can already feel the heat at this end of the probe. And while the spell continually creates the flames, a gentle tug at my chest tells me that the spell is draining my animus.”
He ended the spell and the strange flames disappeared. The rod was still quite hot, however, so he walked over to the worktable and set the probe down on a heat pad.
“You mentioned light. How do those glow batons work then, the ones that create sorcerous light?”
“When you press the stud on a hand-lantern, the short pulse of power from a piezomagical crystal is used to activate a circuit that ties you, and thus your animus, to the glow enchantment it then uses. Try pressing the stud on one with a pencil or a probe or something. The hand-lantern will not work. Some part of a person must be within an inch of the stud when it is pressed.”
“Clever. Does that device we have you looking into do that?”
He shook his head. “Not exactly. It does have its own curious aspects, however.”
“How so?”
He walked around the worktable to the thin plates inscribed with enchantments and moved the magnifying lens over the last plate. “I mentioned this odd last circuit at the clutching party. Along with the inscribed enchantment, three crystals, all in a row, are seated on the edge of the plate, the middle one within a small bit of pitch. Two thin wires extend from either side of that middle crystal, through the pitch, and off the side of the plate. They were attached to a mount near one of the holes in the device case, the one without the steel wire.” He scowled. “What is all that for? If I could decode the circuit, I might understand what the rest does.”
“Are those crystals like the ones you mentioned? Pee-ae-zo-whatsits?”
He chuckled. “The two on either side are piezomagical, but the middle one I don’t recognize. I theorized that the middle one might somehow press against the outer two and thus generate magic power in them, but until I can decode the enchantment, I can’t tell what that middle crystal does. And what of the other two? What are they providing magic power to?”
“You said the process was reversible. What if the outer two are supposed to press on the middle one when magic power is applied to them? The middle one is the one that has wires leading from it, right?”
He glanced at the worktable. “Well, the wires extend from between the outer two and the middle one, but what purpose do the wires serve? Do they relay the heat of the fire from outside the device to the middle crystal? Is it piezothermal? Do these devices monitor the fire’s progress by sensing its heat?” He tugged his lip. “The wires ended at the mount well within the device, however. Was that to protect them from direct flame? Some heat could enter through that hole there, after all. Hmm.”
“Put power to the crystals and see what happens.” Elizabeth shrugged.
“I suppose it couldn’t hurt.” He chuckled. “Sure, why not?”
“I want to see what happens when you do.” She struggled to her feet.
“Can I help you?” He started to walk over.
She raised her hand. “No. I’m alright.”
She grabbed the crutch, and after a few moments and a short, hobbling walk, she stood next to him.
“Okay,” he said. “I’m going to weave a custom spell that will apply a small amount of magic power to both outer crystals, four ganns worth. If nothing happens with that much, I’ll increase it to eight ganns and so on.”
“Sounds logical.”
It took less than a minute to prepare the spell. He put on safety goggles and handed her a pair. “Just in case.”
She put them on. “Alright.”
He smiled. “Here goes.”
When he finished the spell, a bright spark briefly jumped between the two ends of the wires, making him step back. “What in hells?”
Elizabeth reacted the same way, but the cast or the crutch somehow tripped her and she began to fall.
He hurried over and caught her before she hit the ground. “Are you okay?”
“I–I am.” Her gaze shifted to beyond his shoulder.
He turned to where she was looking, and a smile spread across his lips. “Hi!”
Chanté blinked. “Did I, ah, interrupt something?”
“No,” Quillan shook his head. “Elizabeth tripped and I caught her.” He helped her to her feet.
Leaning on the crutch, she ran her free hand over her skirt. “Thanks.”
He turned back to Chanté. “I did an experiment, at her suggestion, and the result was a little surprising. We both jumped back and, well, she stumbled.”
“An experiment?”
“Come have a look.” He walked over to the worktable and pointed to the lens. “When I finish casting this spell, watch what happens with those wires there on the edge of the circuit.”
Chanté stepped in front of the magnifying lens and peered within. “Okay.”
When the spark flew, instead of jumping, Chanté smiled. “It’s like a tiny lightning strike!”
Quillan laughed. “It is, isn’t it?”
“Is that electricity?”
He looked at Elizabeth and nodded. “It is. I’ve never worked with it myself, but I did read a little about it.” He turned to the metal plate. “A few people have done research into electricity over the past half century or so. From what I read, they think it can eventually be as useful as magic. I don’t know how true that is, but—” He shrugged.
Chanté stared through the lens. “So the last circuit makes tiny lightning, this . . . electricity you mentioned?”
“Well,” Quillan said, “I don’t know that for certain. I have yet to decipher the enchantment. We just tried something to see what would happen. But I will look at the encoded symbols again with the spell I used to trigger the spark in mind, to see if that is indeed what the circuit does.”
“If so,” Elizabeth said, “for what purpose does the device use the electricity?”
“That’s a good question.” Quillan looked at the empty case. “I found the burned remains of something in the hole next to the mount. Perhaps there was more to the device that was destroyed in the fire.”
He shook off the thought and, smiling, turned to Chanté. “So, did you drop by because you want to practice flying again?”
“Oh, we can do that, sure.”
He raised his brows. “Was that not why you’re here?”
“Well,” Chanté twisted his lips and looked down at his feet, “I had a question.”
“About what?”
Chanté looked up at hi
m with a serious expression. “What are dimples?”
The sheer determination and complete innocence took Quillan off guard. Heart beating a little faster, he couldn’t help but smile. “Dimples?”
Chanté’s cheeks darkened in a blush. “They’re probably something stupid and I feel like an idiot for asking, but Polandra said I have some. She wouldn’t tell me what they are, though, so . . .”
Still smiling, Quillan stared at him and nodded. “Well, you do have dimples.” And they were definitely—
“Not fair.”
Quillan turned to Elizabeth. “Hmm?”
She scowled and muttered, “Nothing.”
“So what are they?” Chanté stared at him. “Even Nantli wouldn’t say.”
Quillan chuckled and said, “Let me show you.”
Where was that tray? He looked about the room and finally spotted it. After grabbing the highly reflective platter, he stood next to Chanté and handed it to him. “Look at your face in here.”
With a dubious expression, Chanté stared at his reflection. “Okay.”
“Now, imagine you and Nantli are flying high in the sky on a beautiful morning. The sun is shining, the clouds are big and fluffy, and the air is cool.”
Chanté nodded, a small smile on his lips.
“Hmm. That’s not a big enough smile. Is there anything you can think of that makes you smile really big?”
Chanté’s gaze, reflected in the tray, flicked to Quillan. After a moment, Chanté’s cheeks darkened and he let out a little chuckle.
“There!” Quillan pointed. “Look at your cheeks. Those indentations are dimples.”
“Oh.” Chanté reached to touch the one on his left cheek, but it had faded along with his smile. “Hmm. And those are considered attractive?”
Quillan swallowed. Hells yes, they were. But, should he say so with Elizabeth right there? He tugged his ear. “Uh, well . . .”
“Yes,” Elizabeth said, “they are. Not everyone has them, and many people find them attractive.”
Quillan cleared his throat. “So. Flying practice?” He turned to Chanté.
Dimples and a big smile. “Let’s go!”
+ + + + +
Fillion, eyes closed in concentration, continued to slide the rake in and out.
Of Gods, Trees, and a Sapling: Dragonlinked Chronicles Volume 4 Page 67
