“Zedd’aki will teach him for now,” Ja’tar answered, tossing his head in Zedd’aki’s direction.
Zedd’aki almost choked and looked harshly at Ja’tar who just shrugged.
Qu’entza shrugged and twitched again, “Good. Good, Zedd’aki will be good for the lad. They’re a good match.”
Qu’entza stepped away.
“It’s best then,” he said stoically, “for now ...”
Zedd’aki sighed. He knew from the tone of Ja’tar’s voice that this wasn’t up for negotiation. He had better just accept that fact and move on.
“So after lunch, you want to take the boy and find him a room, get him settled?” Ja’tar asked, bluntly.
“Are you asking if this is something I will do, or are you asking if I want to do this?” Zedd’aki questioned, looking perturbed.
“Will you, please?” Ja’tar asked, although he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He needed to go do some research on something To’paz had written in her note and needed time to himself to do that, without prying eyes.
Zedd’aki nodded. “Let’s go Bal’kor. We need to get you a room.”
Bal’kor got up and followed Zedd’aki out of the dining room. They walked quietly along the halls until they reached the dormitories. Zedd’aki stopped at the first empty room and opened the door.
“Here you go, your own room,” Zedd’aki said, looking down at the lad.
“Zedd’aki? Can I ask you a favor?” Bal’kor said, his eyes welling up.
“It depends,” Zedd’aki answered. “What do you need.”
“Well, I was hoping I could get my mother’s old room,” Bal’kor said, smiling weakly. “She told me I could have it when I moved to the Keep.”
“Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt, we have plenty of rooms,” Zedd’aki replied, after some reflection. “Well, follow me then, your mother lived in a different section of the Keep. You’ll be alone there. No other wizards live there now. Are you all right with that?”
Bal’kor grinned as he reached up to hold Zedd’aki’s hand.
They walked down the hall and then crossed into a different section of the Keep. Zedd’aki stopped in front of a big door. He chanted for a second, removing the weak ward and opened the door.
They stepped into the room, which was much larger than the previous room. Bal’kor stepped into the room and closed his eyes.
“It feels like mother,” he sighed. “It smells like her, too.”
Zedd’aki was surprised at the boy’s observation and he took a deep breath. The boy was right, the room had a hint of lilac and rose. It smelled just like Ja’tar’s sister.
Bal’kor looked around, first at the bed, then at the chair, table and wardrobe. He stepped to the window, pulled the curtain back and jumped up trying to open the shutters.
“Here, let me get that for you,” Zedd’aki offered.
Bal’kor offered thanks, stepped back and let Zedd’aki through. Zedd’aki opened the latch and pushed the shutters back. Bal’kor stepped up to the window ledge and stood on his tiptoes. He looked out.
“I love the trees. Our house in Naan was in the forest. The birds used to sing to me ...”
Zedd’aki leaned out the window next to the boy and set his hand on his shoulder. “I’m glad you like it.”
“Can I leave the window open?” Bal’kor asked, longingly, looking up into Zedd’aki’s eyes.
Zedd’aki paused, slapped the boy on his back. “Of course.”
“Thank you, I love the outdoors,” Bal’kor said, his face lighting up.
“We need to get you some new clothes,” Zedd’aki suggested. “I’ll remove your mother’s things for you.”
“You should probably wait,” Bal’kor said. “Mother says I will grow a lot for the next few days. You can leave her things here, it’s okay with me. I’d like to keep them, if I can, for when she comes back.”
Zedd’aki startled. The boy had talked as if his mother was still around and talking to him and he thought she was returning. Worrisome.
Obviously, the boy probably needs a lot of time to get over whatever had happened right before he came to the Keep. How exactly that was, Zedd’aki wasn’t sure, but he supposed that the man he had seen had opened the gate. Why he hadn’t kept the lad with him was a little disturbing, but then again, he didn’t know the history of the lad or his father. He supposed that there had been good reasons for it.
“We can wait to get your robes if you wish,” Zedd’aki said in a kindly fashion.
“Mother says I shouldn’t be a bother, that you and Uncle Ja’tar have your hands full with the Guild,” Bal’kor said confidently.
Zedd’aki ignored how much Bal’kor knew about Keep life and suggested, “So, are you ready to start learning magic?”
Bal’kor’s eyes opened wide, “Am I ever! Mother and I used to practice all the time.”
“Well then, the first thing I need to do is read your magic and find out how far along you are,” Zedd’aki said, as he stood Bal’kor against the stone wall to the rear of the room.
“Now hold still,” Zedd’aki focused on the magic and when he caught a view of Bal’kor’s aura, he had to look away. He had never seen magic so complex and fully developed in a child before, but it was different.
“Did I pass?” Bal’kor questioned with concern on his face when he saw Zedd’aki cringe and look away.
Zedd’aki realized that his face must have shown surprise, so he toned it down and replied softly, “Yes, you are just fine. You have a lot of magic; it was too bright to look at.”
“I know. Mother says I have her gift and that of my Father.”
“Did she ever talk about your father?”
“Not a lot, only that he was the greatest mage she had ever met that wasn’t from the Keep. Mom said his magic was different,” Bal’kor said, reciting his mother word for word.
“Different? Did she say how?”
“Mother said that he used something she called primitive magic.” Bal’kor said.
“Did she say what this primitive magic was?”
Bal’kor shook his head. “She only said that he couldn’t see or talk to the mist creature.”
Zedd’aki tilted his head in wonder, “Do you hear the mist creature?”
Bal’kor crumpled his face, “I do, but I don’t like it, and it doesn’t like me either. It won’t listen if I talk to it, so I just don’t!”
“Well, that’s alright. You don’t need to talk to the mist if you don’t want to, you can do old magic.” Zedd’aki said, comforting the boy.
Bal’kor visibly relaxed.
Zedd’aki thought he would try something different so he asked, “Bal’kor, did your mother teach you how to see the magic?”
“Oh, yes! It was one of our favorite games,” Bal’kor said excitedly, his eyes widening and a grin spreading across his face.
“Well then, let’s try a spell. I’ll make a simple spell and you tell me how it looks. Ready?” Zedd’aki asked.
“Ready,” Bal’kor replied, staring at Zedd’aki’s hands.
Zedd’aki wove a spell to make a blue flame in his palm. Bal’kor clapped and grinned. “Cold fire!”
“So tell me how it looks?” Zedd’aki asked, probing for more detail. He had been surprised that the boy had recognized the spell.
“It’s five strands of red with two white. There is a little gold strand in the middle of the red ones and the white ones are wrapped around the red ones,” Bal’kor said, laughing.
“Very good,” Zedd’aki said, raising his brow. “Very good indeed.”
They tried two more spells, one of air and one of earth. Bal’kor correctly identified both and got the weaves correct.
“Are you ready to try to make some magic threads yourself,” Zedd’aki asked.
Bal’kor’s expression was far less than enthusiastic.
Zedd’aki thought about the easiest spell he knew, “Now try to picture the single red thread sitting above your hand.”
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Bal’kor held out his hand and tried to concentrate on the threads. His hand shook, but the threads wouldn’t appear.
Zedd’aki watched him using his vision of the magic and saw that the threads stopped barely above his hand. Zedd’aki shook his head. There was no explaining it, the magic just stopped.
“It’s okay,” Zedd’aki said. “We can try again.”
“The magic won’t come out, it’s stuck,” Bal’kor said, sulking.
“Hold out your hand. I’ll put the spell there and you hold it in place,” Zedd’aki suggested.
Again, Bal’kor held out his hand and Zedd’aki placed a miniature flame in the center of his palm, “Ready?”
Bal’kor bit down hard on his tongue and concentrated.
Zedd’aki released the weave and it almost immediately winked out, “Do you want to try again?”
Bal’kor shook his head slowly, and started to cry.
“It’s alright,” Zedd’aki said, soothing the boy. “It takes a long time to learn the magic.”
“I could never do it with mother either. It’s just stuck. It’s like the aural plane isn’t lining up with the parabolic lines of force emitting from the concentric energy center, so they aren’t converging and instead, they’re in opposition to each other,” Bal’kor said, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Zedd’aki’s jaw dropped, “Is that so? Did your mother tell you that?”
“No, that’s just what the magic is doing, can’t you see it?”
“Yes,” Zedd’aki nodded. “I was just wondering if you knew why?”
Bal’kor shook his head side to side, “I don’t know why ...”
“Well, don’t feel bad because neither do I,” Zedd’aki echoed, sensing the boy’s disappointment. “Let’s just practice reading the weaves this morning.”
For the next few hours, Zedd’aki quizzed the boy on a multitude of weaves. He was astounded at how well he could see and read the magic. Bal’kor not only read the weaves, but he understood why they worked and how changing the weave could alter the spell. His jiin was definitely the strongest he had ever witnessed. It was disturbing that for one so strong, that he couldn’t even wield the smallest of spells. Zedd’aki frowned to himself. He would have to discuss this with Ja’tar.
Bal’kor rubbed his eyes and yawned as his stomach growled. He grinned and his face turned red.
“I think that is enough for now. You should head down to the dining room and get some lunch,” Zedd’aki suggested. “You must be hungry.”
Bal’kor’s face lit up, “I am hungry. Will Gretta be there?”
Zedd’aki grinned back, “I’m sure she will be, and she’ll have a huge plate of whatever she is cooking ready for you! I think she likes you.”
Bal’kor blushed, “I like her too. She’s a nice lady.”
“Off with you then! Can you find your way to the dining room?”
“Thanks, Zedd’aki,” the boy yelled over his shoulder, as he ran out of the room.
Zedd’aki watched the boy dart out of the room and take off running down the hall. Zedd’aki stood up and closed the door as he thought about the day’s events. The boy had great potential.
Zedd’aki followed and by the time he reached the dining room, Bal’kor was being coddled by Gretta who was fawning over him. He shook his head, grabbed a plate, filling it with smoked fish and bread before he headed over to the table where Ja’tar was watching the commotion.
“How’d things go this morning,” Ja’tar asked, not even looking up.
“The lad is brilliant,” Zedd’aki said. “He read every weave I showed him, and he knows how to alter them. I’ve never seen a jiin as strong or as pure as his.”
“So you could see his jiin. That’s better than this morning,” Ja’tar said unemotionally.
“Most complex aural halo I’ve ever seen ...”
“Old magic?”
“Both. But there is a small ... problem ...” Zedd’aki said, picking away at the fish, removing the spine, bones intact.
“Problem?” Ja’tar frowned, as he licked his fingers.
“To use and expression of yours, indeed!” Zedd’aki sighed, “The lad can’t cast.”
Ja’tar stopped mid bite and looked up, “What do you mean he can’t cast?”
Zedd’aki shook his head sadly, “The lad can’t cast. He says the magic is stuck.”
Ja’tar rubbed his chin, “Exact words? Stuck?”
One of the servant staff stopped by the table and set a big bowl of vegetable soup down in front of Zedd’aki. He thanked her and waited for her to leave before he continued.
Zedd’aki reasoned, “His spell forms, but it snuffs out about an inch or so from his hand. Even if I put the spell in place, he can’t hold it.”
Ja’tar solemnly waved his hand to the side, “Maybe it will take him a bit. After all, he’s been fed a lot of magic to grow quickly. Maybe his mind needs to catch his body.”
“I doubt it,” Zedd’aki said, under his breath.
“Why is that?” Ja’tar asked.
“He’s talked about the aural plane, the force lines and the energy center. If anything, his mind is that of a full mage.”
Ja’tar startled and hushed his voice, “Those concepts are known to only a few ...”
“And one of them was your sister!’ Zedd’aki added quietly, “Who obviously passed all of her knowledge on to the boy.”
“So it appears ...” Ja’tar said, dropping the subject. “Perhaps we’re lucky ...”
“Lucky?” Zedd’aki said, faintly irritated.
Ja’tar spoke quietly, “Imagine a young child with mastery of the spells of the ancients.”
Zedd’aki thought about that for a second, “I suppose I see your point.”
“That is why we have rules against magically infusing students to help them learn.” Ja’tar said angrily.
Zedd’aki sighed, “I understand.”
“Do you?” Ja’tar wondered.
“Given that, should I continue teaching the boy?” Zedd’aki asked.
Ja’tar shrugged, “From how you talk, maybe he should be teaching you.”
Zedd’aki grunted, “Just the same, I ...”
Ja’tar interrupted, “I think you should let him wander the Keep this afternoon. Maybe he will meet the others and some of the staff. Maybe if he felt more at home ...”
Zedd’aki was annoyed, but agreed and took his first spoonful of soup. It was already cold. He rolled his eyes, placed his hand over the bowl and cast an incantation warming it.
Ja’tar watched the lad’s head shoot around as Zedd’aki cast his spell. Ja’tar was amused. The boy had noticed the weak use of magic even though he was fully occupied with Gretta and her daughter. Zedd’aki’s assessment was probably correct. He was far advanced and Ja’tar was quite sure that his sister had broken all the Keep’s rules and used magic to teach Bal’kor all she knew.
Of course the Guild was no more, so the point was moot, but she hadn’t known that when she had carried out her scheme. Ja’tar growled to himself, his sister should have known better, and who was this mage father?
“We need to stay on top of this. If Bal’kor’s magic comes back and he starts using spells he doesn’t understand nor has any control over, we could be in trouble,” Ja’tar emphasized to his friend.
“I understand,” Zedd’aki said under his breath. He had seen wizards try to use magic that stretched beyond their understanding before, and he shuddered remembering some of their effects. “There is always dullweed broth.”
The next morning when Zedd’aki went to get the lad, he found him sitting on the bed crying. He was hunched over facing away from the door.
“What’s wrong? He asked, setting his hand on the lad’s back.
“My robe doesn’t fit,” the boy moaned. He stood up and showed Zedd’aki how the long robe was now almost a short skirt.
Zedd’aki startled. The lad had aged several years over night. He could see it in his face a
nd now, he reached to Zedd’aki’s shoulder, appeared to be nearing his teens. He was right, the robe was barely at his knee.
“Let’s get a look at you,” Zedd’aki said, spinning the lad around. “Don’t worry about the robe, we have plenty.”
Bal’kor walked over and looked at himself in the mirror, “I’m a lot older today.”
Zedd’aki said, putting on a brave face. “So it appears! Are you hungry?”
“I’m always hungry,” Bal’kor stammered, wiping away the tears. “Zedd’aki, can I ask you something?”
Zedd’aki assured the boy. “Of course, you can ask me anything.”
The lad’s young face was filled with concern. The corner of his mouth twitched and he fought to hold back more tears. “Am I going to keep growing?”
“You might,” Zedd’aki said. “But I’m sure it will slow down after a few days ...”
Bal’kor wiped the corners of his eyes. “Did you grow this fast?” he asked.
“No, but my mother wasn’t a powerful sorceress either. Your mother used her magic to help you learn and grow.”
Bal’kor knew that his mother had used the magic. He remembered, but it seemed so long ago.
“Why do I have this bracelet on?” Bal’kor asked, sliding his finger under the stones. “I can’t seem to get it to come off.”
“That is a magic bracelet and it is very special. It’s a gift from your mother, and it holds memories of her,” Zedd’aki tried to explain, without providing much detail. “I don’t think she wants you to ever remove it.”
“I hear my mother talking to me sometimes,” Bal’kor blurted out. “In my head, like in my dreams, but not a dream...”
“What do you mean?”
Bal’kor smiled weakly and sniffled, “It can’t be real, right? But she seems real and talks to me, answers questions and tells me things.”
“What kind of things?” Zedd’aki queried, knowing that the bond between the wearer and the bal’achar could be strong.
The Third Sign Page 31
