“Did you ever wonder why you passed the test with your shell and not the coin?”
“Yes, of course. At first I thought it was because that coin was ruining my concentration, but I’m guessing it’s more complicated than that. Maybe the earth component was stronger in the shell than in the coin, and therefore easier to manipulate?”
“That could be it,” Corenn admitted. “But for such small objects, the differences aren’t tangible enough for them to have any effect on a spell’s success. It has to do with something else. The receptiveness of objects.”
Yan listened closely to the Mother’s explanations. At the end of every lesson, he thought he knew everything there was to know about magic, or close to it. However, Corenn always presented him with new concepts, which he did his best to absorb. He had realized the benefit of these lectures long ago. If he had started using magic haphazardly from the start, he would be like a man who ate unknown mushrooms: dead.
“In theory, all things can be altered, since they contain the four elements. But in practice, magicians have noticed differences in receptiveness, even between similar objects, like two staffs made from the same tree, for example. It remains unexplained. It’s magic’s biggest mystery.”
Yan’s eyes widened. It was the first time the Mother didn’t offer him some interpretation, not even a personal theory, on an aspect of their power.
“Some speak of a fifth element,” she continued. “Something we would call recept. But no one has managed to really define it, nor explain how it works. What seems to be true is that the recept is more present in things that have been the object of human attention. The stronger the recept in the object, the easier it is to apply your Will to it. But even this general rule suffers from exceptions and doesn’t always hold.”
“Can an object’s recept vary from one day to the next?”
Corenn praised him, “Good question. No, if it’s strong one day, it’s just as strong the next, and even the year after. Perhaps it could change over a few centuries, but no one could possibly live long enough to know that for certain.”
The two were reminded of the strange discovery from the evening before. Nol. He might have lived long enough. The idea had crossed their minds that Nol may be their enemy, but the implications were so dark that they avoided talking about it.
“I have heard stories, however, though they’re rare, about objects with an exceptional recept that was completely lost after being manipulated by an excessive application of Will. Magicians call these objects exhausted. From then on, they will always be immune to power. I’ve never witnessed it myself.”
“It’s a shame,” Yan commented, studying his medallion.
He thought about the one he had given Léti. It had been easy to force the scroll to penetrate the opal. The gem’s recept must have been quite strong. Was the opal exhausted now? If so, what he wrote on the scroll would last forever—an idea that brought a smile to the young man’s face.
“You’re now a full-fledged magician, Yan. You practically know as much as me. One last thing that I need to remind you of: True power isn’t in the excessive use of Will, but in how intelligently you use it. Magic doesn’t put you above others. It makes you responsible for them.”
Yan nodded, solemnly. He took Corenn’s advice very seriously. He was no longer the naïve fisherman from a small Kaulien village. He was a man who had faced death, traveled across several countries, and tackled problems he never could have imagined. He had always been smart and now here he was, absorbing the wisdom of his ancestors.
“Good! Now, all we have to do is find you a name. It’s customary,” she noted, cheerfully. “What do you think about Yan the Curious?”
“Um… I don’t know… isn’t that kind of negative?” he responded, surprised.
“So Yan the Faithful then? By tradition, the master is the one who chooses her apprentice’s name. But I wouldn’t want to pick one that doesn’t please you.”
“The Curious will be fine then,” he confirmed, frightened by the possibility of being called the Faithful.
He wondered how the Mother came up with these ideas. She had the habit of switching from serious conversations to friendly banter in an instant.
“Well, then. Let’s go introduce ourselves to Zarbone, Yan the Curious. Formal introductions are customary for our fellowship of magicians.”
They found the old man walking around his pens, boasting to the others about his climbing snakes, golden ibexes, and other rare animals that were the prize of his collection. Léti struggled to restrain Frog, who was dead set on greeting each and every animal. The dwarf cat was such a rebel that for a moment she thought about renaming it Reyan.
“Master Zarbone,” the Mother announced, leading him aside. “I’m Corenn the Acute, and this is Yan the Curious. We’re both earth specialists.”
“Delighted to meet you,” the governor responded, playing along. “I’m Zarbone the Collector, of course. A wind specialist in my day. It’s been ages since I’ve practiced.”
They broke into a technical conversation, leaving the others to continue their tour. Yan rejoiced inside. For the first time in his life, he had completed an apprenticeship. He had a talent that was all his own, and he was part of a fellowship.
Finally, he had something to offer Léti.
Their visit with Zarbone was only a stop in their journey, and they didn’t want to jeopardize a man who had helped them so much. They would embark that very night for the Guoris’s Sacred Island. What he had taught them about Romine’s Deep Tower was enough to earn their profound gratitude.
Lana looked at these men and women as they prepared to leave. They had immediately accepted her as one of their own. Which, in reality she was, of course, since she was a descendant of the wise from Ji just like the rest of them. But her new friends all shared a common violence, a certain fury to live, which she didn’t think she had. She found herself almost envious of their drive and will.
To leave them was unthinkable. Sure, they carried weapons, and hardly gave a thought to the Moral of Eurydis, but she needed them, for their protection and their friendship.
Her preparations consisted solely of a long prayer, in which she confessed all her fears and regrets about exposing so many people to the dangers of a visit with Usul. She asked the Goddess to watch over them and to bring them peace of mind. She prayed that if things turned out badly that the Goddess at least protect the youngest in their group.
There was no particular ritual for a Eurydian prayer outside of the Temple. One could call on the Goddess from anywhere, as desired, as long as they did so respectfully. Lana was content to sit against a tree and close her eyes. When she opened them, she was surprised to see Léti at her side.
A strange spectacle she was, this young woman dressed in leather and steel, carrying a rapier and a knife, yet she ardently prayed to the Goddess of peace. Violence is not in our hearts, she thought, but in our memories… Léti had been through so many trials.
The Maz gently placed a hand on Léti’s shoulder, who pushed her hand away by reflex, before realizing, embarrassed, who had put it there.
“I’m sorry, I… I was just thinking about…”
“It’s nothing,” assured Lana, who could only imagine what difficult memories could be tormenting her. “We are all a little nervous. I just wanted to let you know I am heading back to the house.”
“I’ll come with you.”
They found the others at Zarbone’s house, where they had planned to eat a last meal together before leaving. The old man was morose. He had spent the entire day trying to dissuade them from going to see Usul, convinced that it would be the last time he would see them.
As for the heirs, they showed no signs of regret. They would leave their friend still alive, which was reason enough to rejoice. That night, they were convinced they would have their answers. That night, they would finally know the name of their enemy. They had been waiting for this moment for so long that the horrors mentioned in
the legends about Usul seemed trivial.
Besides, Lana was a Maz. That also gave them confidence. Gods must have a certain respect for a Maz, right?
They had no idea, of course, that Lana was the most terrified of them all.
The heirs quickly finished their meal and returned to the Othenor. Zarbone accompanied them and bid them good luck on the beach. Grigán promised him that he would return as soon as possible, once they had resolved their problems. The old man refrained from reminding the warrior that he had been swimming in troubled waters for twenty years and still hadn’t managed to find his way out yet.
Léti had to carry Frog all the way to the boat, since the cat wasn’t amused at the idea of walking along a floating dock. As soon as they were aboard the sloop, he scampered toward the cabin, where he stayed for a long time, playing with the hammocks and blankets.
He was the only one who enjoyed himself. The others had a disturbing night.
Zarbone had given them a detailed map of this section of the Land of Beauty, but sailing at night was still perilous. The heirs didn’t dare light any lanterns on the Othenor, and they only saw a few lights around them, coming from the largest islands in the vicinity. They glided onward, practically blindfolded, the pale light of the crescent moon as their only guidance.
Bowbaq felt his old fears return. The sea was more frightening at night. The threshold between the depths and the surface was no longer clear, and he imagined that they were drifting out into harsh, dark waters. He feared that they would never return. He tried to snap out of his troubled visions by hopping from one foot to the other—feeling the world’s solid reality sometimes helped him feel better. But not tonight.
“I remember a legend from Arkary,” he announced. “It claims that the moon’s shadows reveal the true nature of things.”
His friends waited silently for him to continue, curious where he was going with this, but Bowbaq had nothing more to add.
“Why are you telling us that?” Rey asked, finally.
“I didn’t see the Mog’lur’s shadow,” he answered, sorrowfully. “I wonder if I might have seen the shadow of a child instead. Actually, I’m positive. I’m sure I saw a child’s shadow.”
“You have a mountain’s shadow,” Rey declared. His comment was as much a joke as it was an attempt to comfort his friend. “Demons would have to gather in hordes to bring you crumbling down.”
The actor went right back to sharpening his rapier as if nothing had happened. Rey had swapped his expensive clothes for his old traveling attire. He was unusually serious, hinting that he too was dreading what was on the horizon. He had narrowly escaped death on Ji, and he planned on surviving the Guoris’s Sacred Island the same way.
“You see how charming you can be,” Lana whispered kindly in his ear.
“You have the shadow of a divinely beautiful woman. My shadow would love to get to know yours,” he whispered back.
Lana smiled graciously, but it wasn’t a warm smile. She walked away. What Rey was suggesting was impossible, even under more pleasant circumstances. As a Maz, she couldn’t justify an affair with an atheist, no matter how tempting it was…
“Left!” Grigán whisper-yelled. “To the left!”
Yan corrected their course, trusting the warrior’s eagle eyes. Grigán had taken position at the bow, almost lying flat on the deck, and was acting as their spotter. Corenn helped him by relaying directions from Zarbone’s map. Their method had worked fine so far, but they still dreaded the possibility of getting lost or running aground on an unmarked sandbar.
“Look over there!” Léti said in a low voice. “There are moving lights!”
She was pointing to a group of lights five hundred yards to their starboard. These lights were different than the lights shining from the island residences that they had seen before. These ones were moving. It had to be a boat. A mercenary patroller.
As they had planned, Yan and Rey lowered the sail and let the Othener glide in absolute silence. The mercenary ship continued on the same heading, putting distance between them. The heirs weren’t out of danger yet. The Othenor might have drifted far off course.
“We’ve lost our way,” Grigán announced frankly, once he had time to judge their position.
The next few moments seemed to crawl for everyone. If they were still going the right direction, they were supposed to see a cathedral of coral sometime very soon. Grigán spotted it finally, with a sigh of relief. It was nothing more than a six-foot-high mass sticking out of the water.
Corenn consulted the map again, even though by now she practically knew it by heart. They were getting close to the Guoris’ Sacred Island. Is this really a good idea? she wondered, for the hundredth time. Then she recalled the threatening mysteries that surrounded and hampered their quest. The answers from Usul could be their salvation. Yes, they had to try it.
“Steer left after the coral, Yan,” she whispered.
Yan executed the orders masterfully. He was simultaneously exhilarated and nervous, just like every time the heirs faced a turning point. Exhilarated by the joy of discovering, learning, living. He was nervous too because this new life full of experience could be cut short, or made painful if something bad were to happen to one of his friends, or to Léti…
He watched the young woman tenderly. Like him, she had changed too. She had become stronger. Tougher. Made more mature by the trials she unwillingly had to endure. He hoped they hadn’t changed so much that they would grow apart. For his part, he found her more captivating and beautiful than ever. Learning magic was just a way that he could finally have a talent to offer her. He wanted to protect her, live with her, laugh with her, have children that were like her. He had always wanted that, and he still did.
It wasn’t an obsession. Being with Léti was simply the only way he imagined happiness. Yan had no intention of harassing Léti her whole life if it turned out she had other plans. But on this dark night on a distant sea, as they were being hunted down by a powerful enemy with no place to hide, to Yan, concentrating on his hopes and dreams seemed like the best thing to do.
Léti turned to him and gave him an affectionate smile, almost as if she had heard his thoughts. Yes, he thought, with renewed determination. The best thing to do.
“We’ve arrived,” Grigán announced. “The island is right in front of us.”
The heirs wondered if Grigán had actually spotted something or spoke from intuition. He was the only one who could see anything. As the Othenor closed in, they could discern the rough shape of the island a few hundred yards ahead of them as it emerged piece by piece on the dark horizon.
Bowbaq candidly remarked, “It’s smaller than Ji.”
“That will only make finding Usul that much easier,” Rey joked. “All we have to do is stand on the beach and yell, ‘Hey! Is there a god somewhere around here? Or is that the next island over?’”
Lana shuddered at this latest blasphemy. Even though she was the one who had had the idea in the first place, she couldn’t believe that they were going to meet with a god. She was convinced that gods existed, but it was one thing to pray to them in the quiet confines of a temple; it was quite another to directly address an eternal being in the flesh.
Implicitly, they had designated her as the group’s representative to speak to Usul. She had scrupulously memorized the list of questions Corenn had prepared. She would soon speak with a god and was paralyzed by fear.
Yan slowed the Othenor, following Grigán’s advice. The Guoris could have set up some beams, rocks, or other pitfalls to sink any boat that ignored the interdiction, so at an achingly slow pace, the sloop approached the island.
They did their best to peer through the darkness, but the interior remained indiscernible. The only thing they could perceive was the edge between the vegetation and the beach.
The heirs hoped that the Guoris had abandoned the island to let it fall into obscurity, perhaps thinking that what is available to everyone interests no one. For the next gener
ation, all that would be left would be a few legends of Usul. But until then, the natives had made such an effort to keep everyone away that such a drastic change in methods seemed improbable. They must have found a better way to keep people away from the god.
The sloop was soon close enough for Rey to drop anchor. They couldn’t risk approaching any closer and running aground. The beach was 150 yards away. Grigán plumbed the depth and decided it was best that they take the dinghy to shore, much to Bowbaq’s relief. He didn’t want to plunge into those dark waters.
The small boat was just large enough for four people, so Yan needed two trips to bring everyone to shore. Grigán, Léti, and Rey took the first boat, weapons in hand and senses alert. The others soon joined them.
Bowbaq lit two lanterns that he had altered following the warrior’s advice: Two large planks of wood masked the light from one side to partially reflect it back out the other. The giant took one and gave the other to Yan.
“Don’t forget to point your light inland,” Grigán reminded them. “And don’t hold them too high. We just need enough light to see where we’re stepping. Not to signal all of the Land of Beauty.”
The group left the beach, Yan in the front, covered by Grigán and his bow. Lana followed, protected by Rey and his crossbow. Then came Bowbaq, Corenn, and finally Léti, who brought up the rear. They had adopted this strategic formation without having to discuss it. Grigán also noticed that each of them tried to walk as silently as possible, without him needing to remind them. His companions had learned a lot, he thought to himself with a certain sense of satisfaction at their progress.
Supposedly, Usul was at the island’s summit, and they headed in that direction. No more than twenty yards in, they had to stop.
“I found a carcass,” Yan warned them in a hoarse voice.
Grigán squatted down to examine the putrid animal, a colony of maggots squirming out of its bloated body. It was a large adult auroch. The beast was almost intact, except for dozens of small cuts that covered its body, maybe made by scavengers after its death.
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