Eventually, after some nimble thinking, and what was maybe a brief interruption from Alacin, she had at least persuaded Ealian to talk to Brea about coming to Eiras. That, she supposed, was as good as she was going to get, short of Travelling to Braylair and arguing face to face, which she was not about to do.
As for the rest of the evening, she had spent that sitting on a chair in the hall outside Olivia’s rooms, doing her bodyguard duty, and reading her book, catching up on her spell theory – which was why she was up so early; Chi-tirdis meant lessons with Nerys.
Elspeth looked forward to her time with Nerys. Despite the subject, it was the one thing about her life that felt normal; a teacher and a student, that was all they were, and never mind she was learning about magic. Nerys had a way of making the most incredible seem so work-a-day. A lesson Elspeth wished she could emulate in other parts of her life.
Today’s lesson was on adole, and why she should never use it.
Thus far, Elspeth had learned leus and haba. Leus, she was good at; haba, not so much. Which made her wonder why they were starting on a new spell.
“Come over here, child,” Nerys said.
Nerys was a plump woman with a motherly look. To see her in the street, no one would ever guess she was one of the most powerful witches in the known world. More surprising, Nerys had no affiliation with the Twelve or the Lebaran witches. Some might call her a wet witch, but Elspeth knew the little woman’s abilities went far beyond such a modest description. Wet witches were herbalists and midwives and village healers, most of whom had at least some talent with the Voice; Nerys was something else entirely.
They were in one of the cellars under the Raeg Tower. The damp room was not quite a dungeon, but close enough. Nerys had set up shop down there. The once empty room was now full of shelves and books and a bewildering array of pots and glass vials. In short, it was exactly what Elspeth had expected a witch’s lair to look like – just like those in the stories her grandmother had read to her. There was even a cauldron!
Elspeth followed Nerys to a corner where there were no shelves or books, only a long bench with a bucket of water at one end.
“Are there fish in that?” Elspeth said, thinking they might have something to do with the spell.
“No,” Nerys said. “That’s there in case you set fire to your clothes. Now, pay attention.”
Elspeth reached the end of the bench and hesitated. “A fire spell? I thought you needed Earth for that? I’m not very good with Earth.”
“You have enough to be going on with,” Nerys said, unconcerned. “And you are forgetting; you need a little Earth to make a leus.”
Elspeth was far from unconcerned: a fire spell needed a lot of Earth and Water, and was dangerous if you got the balance wrong – or so she had read in her book.
Nerys stepped to the other side of the bench and opened a trap door in the floor. She waved Elspeth over.
When she looked through the trap door, Elspeth could see nothing.
“Why are we looking down a hole?” she asked.
Suddenly, she remembered visiting another cellar, with Nini and Chrissa. That time, there had been pipes and all kinds of flammable things.
And gas! Don’t forget the gas!
She wondered if Nerys knew.
“Don’t be shy, girl. Step closer,” Nerys said.
“I’d as soon not.”
Trapper gave the hole in a floor an investigatory sniff, likely decided there was no food on offer, and slumped off to lay in the corner by the door.
Nerys chuckled. “You’ll not fall in. Come now, you need to be close if this is to work.”
“What exactly are we doing?” Elspeth asked.
“Creating an adole spell,” Nerys said. “Haven’t I already said that?”
“Yes, but…” Elspeth gestured toward the hole. “I can’t see what I’m aiming at. Aren’t you supposed to See what you are aiming at for a spell to work?”
“Nonsense. You don’t have to See to use leus, do you? Yes, I agree, you can’t hold something with haba if you are not looking at it, but this is an active spell. You are not reacting to some outside force or object. In other words, you can shoot an adole anywhere you like.”
“I thought you said I wasn’t supposed to—”
“Not at another person,” Nerys said. “Never at another person. But there’s more than one need for a reliable source of fire, child.”
“I suppose so,” Elspeth agreed. She rolled her sleeves up, eyed the bucket of water, and stood so she could see right down the hole. “I’m ready.”
“Good. Now gather your Water Voice. You should be able to do that with ease by now. Once you have it, add a little Earth. But not too quickly; I’d just as soon we did not need the bucket.”
Gathering her Water Voice was easy. In truth, Elspeth had been able to do that before Nerys had told her how – the time when she had spoken to the dolphin. Once settled, she gathered the same amount of Earth she might use to form a leus light. The Powers filled her. She could not help grinning as the familiar rush of cool energy washed through her body. It was like jumping into a pool on a hot summer’s day.
“Now what?” Elspeth asked.
“A little more Earth,” Nerys said.
Unlike Sky and Water, the Earthen Voice felt almost alien. Indeed, in the months since realising she could use her Voice, Elspeth had never spoken to a land creature. Her first had been a gull, then a sparrow, then the dolphin; but no foxes or badgers or deer. Which was unfortunate; she liked foxes and badgers and deer.
Thinking of the time she came across Olam using his Voice in the forest west of Ambieth, Elspeth pulled in a little more Earth. Then a little more.
“Good,” Nerys said. “Now we are getting somewhere. Don’t combine them yet; you haven’t quite got the right balance.”
“Right balance?” Elspeth said, concentrating and wondering how Nerys could possibly know how much of the Power she was holding. “Do I need more Earth or more Water.”
“Earth, of course,” Nerys said. “You are almost—”
Suddenly, a bowl-sized ball of flame erupted from Elspeth’s hand. She jumped back, the sensation of heat running up her arm. Her hand was glowing. No, not her hand, the air around it. The ball of fire hung in mid-air, maybe a foot from her clenched fist, aimed down at the cellar floor.
Elspeth felt someone grab her arm and pull her forward. “Down the hole,” Nerys shouted. “Shoot down the hole, child. That’s what it’s there for.”
Elspeth concentrated on the ball of flame, but she could not let it go. She had never thrown anything before, not with the Power. She had pulled things to her, but never thrown.
“How do I…?”
“Let it go,” Nerys said. “Look at where you want it to be and let it go. Release it.”
Trapper was barking, snapping at the air and looking like he wanted to jump at the fireball. Elspeth could feel heat creeping up her arm. She glanced over at the bucket…
It was then she realised how cold the room was. Nerys was shivering, and Elspeth could see her breath.
Of course, she thought, the Balance.
This was just like when she used leus. Yes, she could create a light, but in way of compensation, the shadows around her darkened. Absently, she wondered what the Balance required of the haba spell. Could there be a…
“Ouch!”
The ball of flame was getting closer. Another few inches and it would be on her fist. Why wasn’t Nerys throwing the bucket of water over her?
Again, she glanced at the bucket.
Nerys must have read her mind, for she, too, glanced toward the bench. She looked back at Elspeth, head shaking.
“Hurry,” Nerys said, teeth chattering. “Down the hole. Remember, imagine it there, and it will be. Just like the haba spell.”
Elspeth was looking down into the hole. There was nothing. How could she imagine placing the fire when she did not know what was down there, how deep the hole was, or how wi
de? As experiments went, this one was badly thought out, she mused.
Still, she closed her eyes and imagined the ball of flame in that darkened space beyond the trap door.
Almost immediately, her arm cooled down. When she opened her eyes, the ball of flame was floating toward the hole. And when she fixed her eye on it, the orange ball disappeared, like a loosed arrow into a dark forest.
Elspeth sighed deeply, then rubbed at her over-heated hand.
“Very good,” Nerys said. “A little slow at following instruction, but very good. To be honest, I had not expected you to form the spell on the first try. Might have been better had you kept your eyes open, though.”
Nerys sat on the stool by her desk and took a long drink from her mug. The cellar was still cold, but at least Trapper had stopped barking.
Elspeth sat on the other stool. “I think it would have gone better if I knew more about the…” she nodded at the trap door.
“Yes,” Nerys said. “But as I said, I had not expected you to form the adole today.”
Nerys smiled, her chubby cheeks dimpling. “You know, a few years, and we might well get some use out of you,” she said. “It’s been a long time since anyone was powerful enough in the Voice to do anything meaningful with the spells I teach. Not even Vila’slae could do more than lift an apple from a bowl, and then only one time in three.”
“You taught Vila’slae?”
“Of course, I teach all the gifted initiates.”
Elspeth grinned. She could not imagine Vila’slae as a grovelling initiate. The thought almost made her laugh.
“Was she… uh… was she stronger than me?”
Nerys returned her grin. “It is considered rude to talk about another witch’s Power without her consent, Elspeth. Even if that witch is Vila’slae.”
“Sorry,” Elspeth said, disappointed.
She could remember being Vila’s prisoner – twice. She would like to have known if she was more powerful than the woman who invaded Aleras’moya.
And if you are, what will you do with that Power? she asked herself.
She hoped the answer would be to use it for good, but she had already lost patience with Elucia and Olivia. If she had that kind of Power at her fingertips, would she take matters into her own hands, go and rescue the northern witches by herself, and to the hell with what the Circle of Twelve thought?
She could not answer that question.
No, that was not true, of course she would go.
So, then you are a coward, a little voice said. Why not leave now, power or no power? You promised to go back and rescue those women. You said nothing about waiting until it was convenient.
“What is it, child?” Nerys said. “You have gone awfully pale of a sudden.”
Elspeth started. She had not realised she was staring at the plump woman. “It’s nothing. Just… I think it’s the heat; I feel a little faint. I think maybe I should go to the kitchens, get something to eat.”
Nerys huffed. “I doubt what they are offering will settle your stomach, girl. But yes, if you are feeling faint, you should at least go get some bread.”
Nerys stood. She started packing up her scrolls, which Elspeth took as a dismissal. She called Trapper over, and they both moved toward the door which led to the stairs.
“Stay away from greasy food,” Nerys said. “And no red meat. Not that they will be any, but you don’t want anything that will lay heavily on your stomach. Some bread or biscuits and a nice cup of tea.”
“I’ll remember,” Elspeth said, guiltily. Whatever was ailing her had nothing to do with food.
She followed Trapper into the hall.
“You can’t go back to the island on your own,” she whispered, as they started up the stairs. “It would be suicide. At the very least, you will just be handing yourself over to Lady Zill, again.”
It was madness, she knew. A lone woman could not attack an island full of Kel’mau, a powerful witch, an evil lord, and all those red-dress women. And never mind the powers did not seem to work properly on Toi’ildrieg.
“Yes, madness,” she whispered. “Stop being so foolish.”
But if it was madness, why was she sure it was the right thing to do?
“Enough,” she told herself. “You’re not going back to the dragon isles on your own, and that is the end of it.”
She nodded in agreement with her own thought, and Trapper let out a single bark.
Elspeth smiled at him. “I’m glad you agree,” she said. “At least one of us has still got the sense they were born with.”
The kitchens were busy, but it seemed no one was cooking anything. The counters were full of raw vegetables and large wheels of white cheese. There were stacks of fresh bread over by the pantry, and a woman was churning milk to make butter.
“Cold food today, miss,” one of the cooks said when she saw Elspeth looking at the raw cabbage and radishes. “No wood for the fires.”
“No wood?” Elspeth squeaked. “I thought you used gas from the pit fields?”
“Aye, we do, but someone set a fire in one of the cellars, and Mistress Torani switched off the gas until she finds out who did it.” The cook gave her a serious look. “Can’t have them pipes blowing up. The explosion would take the whole bloomin’ tower with— You well, miss? You look like you’re going to be sick.”
“It’s nothing,” Elspeth said, for the second time in ten minutes. “Some bread and cheese is fine. In fact, never mind the cheese, I’ll just have some bread.”
The cook shot her a questioning look. “You sure, miss?”
“Yes, quite sure,” Elspeth said. “Just the bread, please.”
The cook cut her three thick slices and handed them to Elspeth on a white plate, then found a bone and handed it down to Trapper. Elspeth thanked her and led Trapper through into the dining hall.
“Gods, I hope Nerys has the sense not to say anything,” she whispered to Trapper, as she sat at the table in the corner, as far from the kitchen as she could get. Trapper sat by her, chewing what was left of the meat from the bone the cook had given him.
“Is that all you are having?” Nini said.
Elspeth started, she had not seen him walk over. Anooni was with him, as was Olivia.
Elspeth’s heart sank. The last thing she needed was another argument. But Olivia gave her a friendly smile and sat opposite.
“You should at least have some milk,” the princess said.
“It’s all right. I’ve been working with Nerys, got a bit of an upset stomach. The bread will do.”
Olivia’s eyebrows shot up. “Has she taught you the adole spell? Tell me she has, I need to practice.”
Elspeth eyed her friend. It was as if last night never happened. No ill-feeling, no awkwardness… no apology.
And I spent all night worrying I had upset her.
“Barely,” she said. “I’ve only had one try. Very nearly set fire to the cellar.”
Elspeth glanced at the kitchen, then back at Olivia, wondering if the princess would connect her adole spell with the fire in the cellar that had the cooks so worried.
If she did, she said nothing about it.
“That’s more than I have managed. I can barely pull a thread of Water. Really, Elspeth, I don’t know how you do it. You are so talented.”
Elspeth smiled. This was Olivia’s way of apologising, she knew.
“Not that talented. Like I said, I nearly set fire to the cellar, and the casting of it made me sick.”
That was not true; thinking about the voice in her head calling her a coward for not going back to Toi’ildrieg was what had made her feel sick. But Olivia did not need to know that.
“Still, you have done better than I. Congratulations.”
So that was it; they were friends again.
But for how long? Sooner or later a message would come from Bailryn, or a rumour would circle the city about the Karakin, or some merchant would spread tales of peculiar goings on, and they would be back where they
started, all guilt and blame. They had to clear the air for good and all.
“I am sorry for all the… you know?” Elspeth said.
Olivia put down her butter knife. For one quiet moment, Elspeth thought she was going to start ranting again.
“No, it is my fault,” Olivia said. “I was blaming you for my broken promises. I should not have; it was not fair. It is because you were there. You heard me make those promises, and every time I see you, I am reminded of my shame.”
Elspeth blinked. That little speech was very nearly word for word what Anooni had said the previous evening. Elspeth glanced at the pale-skinned girl, who was studiously buttering a slice of bread, and stifled a grin.
“We both have our shame,” Elspeth said. “But neither of us are to blame for the way things turned out. I think we should forget about it – the arguments, I mean – and try to help each other.”
Just then, Chrissa appeared at Olivia’s left shoulder. She was carrying a box and a thick scroll.
Olivia put down her bread and cheese and looked up at the bodyguard. “Did you have any trouble finding it?” she asked.
“No trouble at all,” Chrissa said. She put the box and the scroll on the table, then sat next to Olivia.
“What’s all this?” Elspeth asked.
Immediately, Anooni chuckled, and Nini fidgeted in his seat. It seemed the other two people at the table already knew what was in the box.
“So, you mean to do it?” Nini said.
“I don’t think I have a choice,” Olivia said.
Chrissa scowled and, once again, Anooni chuckled. Had the girl Seen something? Why was she laughing when the other three seemed so serious?
“I thought you were going to talk about this,” Nini said.
“I did talk about it,” Olivia said, “with Chrissa.” The bodyguard made a grunt that said it was not much of a talk, but Olivia carried on right over her. “I talked about it, and decided it was the best plan. I am going, and there’s nothing the tower can do to stop me.” She tapped a finger on the thick scroll.
The Ship of Tears: (The Legend of the Nine: Part One) (The Eastern Kingdom Chronicles Book 8) Page 5
