But I don’t need to be able to think to know I’m not leaving Venetry any time soon.
I honestly didn’t realize this for the longest time. Not when I was organizing mages or coddling Norsselen’s ego, not when I was deep in enthusiastic discussion with my group (after gently relieving Relania of her duties; she’s not a good or patient teacher), not even when I was consulting with Jeddan on how he thought his group was doing (very well, though his group is also smaller than the other two).
No, it wasn’t until we were at dinner, and somebody said he wanted to learn the see-in-dark pouvra, joking that he wanted to be able to sneak into the kitchen for a late night snack, and I joked back and said something like “That will take at least a week” that I realized I’d committed myself. I’d acted all day like someone who’d made a long-term plan and was going to see it through. So the first thing I did upon returning to this room, before writing anything, was fling myself on my bed and scream into my pillow and beat my fists on the mattress. Because I don’t want to do this.
I’m not a leader. I don’t know anything about what the army wants its mages to do. I was barely able to teach Jeddan anything about magic, and he’s got actual experience with learning it, something none of these people have. I shouldn’t be here. I should be with my husband, learning to blend Balaenic magic with Castaviran, surrounded by my friends and working to bring our countries together, something I’ve got no power to do here. I should pack my things and walk out of here tonight, walk through Venetry’s wall and keep walking until I find Cederic. This isn’t my problem.
Except that it is.
I keep remembering how they all looked, listening to Norsselen talk about how impossible it was to learn magic, and how they believed him because they had no reason not to. I remember becoming a mage, and how the desire to learn more filled me so completely it was like a pouvra itself, compelling me onward, and I know every one of these men and women has that same feeling. And Norsselen was telling them that feeling was wrong, that it was impossible to satisfy. I couldn’t let them go on believing that.
And once I’d proved to them it was possible, I couldn’t walk away. I have to teach them, even if all I can teach them is how to learn for themselves. I still don’t know how those ten mages learned more pouvrin spontaneously. It could be becoming a mage via the convergence alters how you acquire pouvrin. See? Even now, even as I’m railing against fate, I’m making plans for what I’ll do with the mages tomorrow, and the next day, and so forth, indefinitely. I’m stuck here, and I did it to myself.
I hope, in the morning, I’ll be better resigned to my fate. Right now I’m going to put this book away and indulge my petulant, spoiled self whose only desire is to find the man she loves and curl up in his arms for the rest of forever. Tomorrow, everything will look different.
Chapter Thirteen
15 Nevrine
We were more organized today. Had the mages practice their pouvrin as a warm-up before breaking into groups for more theory. My group is moving along quickly, though not as quickly as Jeddan’s. I think their understanding of pouvrin, that sense of being shaped by the magic, is easier to comprehend than seeing it in multidimensional shapes the way I do.
I also think it’s why Jeddan has so much trouble learning to bend his will to meet the pouvrin; he’s used to thinking of it as something that makes him change and doesn’t have experience letting himself change. So their progress will almost certainly slow down once it comes to learning an actual pouvra. Jeddan also told me he still hasn’t mastered the mind-moving pouvra and wanted to work on it privately, so we’re doing that first thing in the morning.
No idea how Norsselen’s group is faring. They sit together, and talk a lot, but there’s nothing to see at this stage. I regret putting him in charge, because I’m less certain he’s willing to accept my explanation of how magic works. And he has a point, given that he didn’t need all this talking to learn more pouvrin. What I’m hoping is that he took my demonstration of pouvrin to heart, believes people can be taught pouvrin, and is trying to figure out how he learned them so he can teach the method to others and spit in my eye. As long as he’s successful, I don’t care what method he uses.
16 Nevrine
More progress. I hope. Three new mages arrived. Norsselen led everyone except me and Jeddan in the pouvra performance. He hasn’t invited us to learn it.
17 Nevrine
Bad news. A couple of mages from Norsselen’s group approached me to complain. He’s been “teaching” by way of spouting meaningless but inspirational-sounding platitudes that boil down to “if you practice magic hard enough, you’ll be given more of it.” Basically what he was telling them before, only now (according to the mages) he’s backing it up by explicitly referring to his greater skill with magic. And those mages have been talking to friends in other groups who really are learning to understand magic, and they realized they’re being cheated.
So we went out on the patio with our lunches, and I had them do their best to explain how they perceive magic. I didn’t understand fully, but it took a while for Jeddan and me to come up with a shared vocabulary, so I wasn’t expecting to. It seems where Jeddan and I see pouvrin as existing shapes, me observing them from the outside and Jeddan feeling as if he’s on the inside, this third group sees magic in pieces that shift until they reach the right configuration. Their explanation was more detailed than this, and “right configuration” isn’t accurate, but at least it makes a kind of sense.
I told them I would talk to Norsselen and that his approach wasn’t necessarily wrong, since it had worked for him. I felt bad about lying to them, but I’m still working out how best to handle Norsselen, and challenging his authority isn’t the way. Yet.
More progress. The new mages are surprisingly quick to learn, or maybe it’s just that Jeddan and I know which paths are dead ends and avoid those in our teaching. Jeddan managed the mind-moving pouvra this morning and turns out to be as weak at it as I am. Hope that’s not a result of my teaching. He doesn’t seem to mind—asked me how hard it is to learn to pick locks. I said with the see-inside pouvra it’s not even a challenge. Neither of our doors has a lock, so we’ll have to search around for one so I can show him.
I miss the days when it was just the two of us on the road, though not the cold ground and the bad food and the small-minded, bitter, xenophobic people. Jeddan says he’s also working variations on the see-inside pouvra at night. He’s more dedicated than I am. At night I barely have enough energy to keep my record up to date before I fall into bed.
Dreamed of Cederic again last night. That was the first time in a long time. I’m embarrassed to admit that, having some privacy now, I didn’t try to wake myself up when things got really good. I miss him. I hope he’s safe and well, and that he and the mages are making progress in bringing our cultures together, because I know that’s what would matter most to him. That, and finding me.
18 Nevrine
Another new mage showed up today. Jeddan and I amuse ourselves by trying to predict which faction the new people will attach themselves to. Most of the factions are just groups of like-minded people, the kind you get in any large group where you’re looking for people who share your interests so you don’t feel lost in the crowd, and therefore aren’t a problem. But there’s still Norsselen’s people, some of whom are causing trouble in Jeddan’s group (I try not to feel too grateful that none of them are in mine), and to my surprise there’s a small contingent who think we’re doing the wrong thing by turning our magic to the service of war. I’m sure if the King hadn’t made this a royal decree, backed up by threat of force, they wouldn’t be here. Relania heads this group, and while none of them resist the lessons they’re receiving, they’re all quick to point out the non-military applications of their pouvrin. (None of them have fire pouvrin. I don’t know if that’s relevant.)
We’ve got a few people in each group who are ready to move on to learning pouvrin. I feel stretched out, I have so ma
ny things to do—teach the pouvra vocabulary, teach pouvrin, wrangle Norsselen, suppress Relania’s tendency to give orders in my name, corner Jerussa (the mage who can flit from place to place) to get her to teach me her pouvra. It’s limited to range of sight, which is still impressive, but imagine a bunch of mages who can flit from Venetry to Thalessa in less time than it takes to say “Venetry to Thalessa.” That’s a three and a half week journey! I’m not giving up on that possibility, but I have to learn Jerussa’s pouvra first.
19 Nevrine
Norsselen is becoming a problem. I’ve had more and more of his mages (the ones in his group, not the ones who follow him) come to me asking me to take over their group. It’s about to come to a confrontation, and I don’t see any way around it. I wish I could use what I learned seeing Cederic keep Vorantor in check, but in that case they had a common goal, even if Vorantor’s main motivation in achieving that goal was to bring himself glory. Norsselen doesn’t want the same things I do; from what I’m hearing, he doesn’t actually want these mages to learn new pouvrin because he’s maintaining his authority by virtue of having so many, and having tied gaining pouvrin to purity of character, he’s made it seem like he’s intrinsically a better person than they are.
Wonderful. Now confrontation is not only inevitable, I’m starting to think I should be the instigator. I have to make it clear Norsselen’s approach is wrong on every level. But he’s got maybe twelve mages who look to him for guidance, and if it comes to physical conflict, that’s a lot of people to fight. And even if that fight goes my way, what am I going to do with thirteen belligerent, bitter mages who are required by royal fiat to be here? I need some way to get them on my side. Damn it. I wish Cederic were here, because he understands these things. I can only fumble along and hope I don’t screw up too badly.
20 Nevrine
I could have killed Norsselen today. That’s not metaphor. It still makes me sick when I think about it. And the thing is, I had the same feeling of rightness I did facing down those Castaviran villagers who were attacking Nanissa’s village, as if I could see the right thing and make everyone else see it too. I won’t know until tomorrow what Norsselen’s reaction will be, but what makes me ashamed is I couldn’t find a better solution than being a bigger bully than he is, just like in that village. I never thought I’d use these pouvrin to frighten people into submission. I’m afraid of who I’m becoming.
It was in all other ways a typical day. Jeddan and I decided not to start teaching the new pouvrin until we have more “students” ready to learn. That left us with a handful of people who had nothing to do, until it occurred to me to have them start helping with instructing the rest. It was only mostly a good idea, since they kept coming to me for guidance anyway, but it still means faster progress, and I like the camaraderie it builds when they’re communicating with each other instead of just listening to me talk. But it meant I was too busy with my group to realize something was going on with Norsselen’s until one of the mages in that group stood up and said, loudly but not quite shouting, “I think you’re wasting everyone’s time, Norsselen.”
Norsselen looked up at him and said, “If you’re not capable of learning this, Kesse, I don’t think it’s my fault.”
“It is if you’re not teaching,” Fanion (that’s Kesse’s praenoma) shot back. “Telling us to embrace our inner magic is useless. I don’t think you have any idea of how magic works. I’m going to join Sesskia’s group—at least they’re making progress.”
“Sit down, Kesse, you’re making a fool of yourself,” Norsselen said. Fanion turned on his heel and walked away. And Norsselen circled him with fire. He cried out and stood motionless.
“Stop it, Norsselen,” I said, taking a few steps in his direction, and to my shock Norsselen repeated the trick on me. I was so surprised I just stood there in my ring of fire. It was tall enough I couldn’t step over it, and I couldn’t dismiss it so long as he was controlling it, so I had no choice but to stand there and listen to him.
“I’m tired of playing this game, Thalessi,” he said. “You’ve tried to usurp my authority for long enough. I don’t care how many magics you have, I’m in charge here and I say what we do. And what we do is stop wasting our time trying to find structure in something that arises naturally out of who we are. So why don’t you go back to playing with your magic, and let me teach these people how to fight, which is what we’re all here for.”
I couldn’t believe it. I’d had no idea he’d so insulated himself in his own group he didn’t realize the mages were actually accomplishing anything. “Norsselen,” I said, and then I couldn’t think of anything to say that would make a dent in his self-centered ignorance.
“Norsselen!” shouted a mage on the far side of the room. She was one of those who could work the walk-through-walls pouvra and nothing else, a mage in Jeddan’s group. She came forward until she stood next to me, showing no fear of the fire. “You think we’re not learning anything?” she said, and pointed at the far wall. Two bricks and a handful of rubber balls came floating jerkily off their respective piles.
Norsselen and I both goggled at her. “I can do this because I understand the shape of the magic,” she said, “not because I gained some kind of…of mystical insight, or because I practiced really, really hard with my first pouvra. And I think you should shut up and start listening to Sesskia.”
Norsselen’s face went livid. He raised his hand (I don’t think I’ve said he’s taught all these people to use big gestures when they work pouvrin, the idiot) and pointed at the woman, and Jeddan started moving forward, and I shouted, “Everyone stop!” And everyone froze in place except Norsselen, who grinned evilly at me. “You have no power here,” he said, and actually set the woman on fire.
Everyone screamed. And I did something I don’t think I could repeat if it weren’t a matter of life and death—I turned my fire pouvra inside out and used it to dismiss Norsselen’s fire before it could do more than frighten the woman. Then I worked the same pouvra on myself and Fanion. And then I took several running steps and used all my weight to knock Norsselen to the floor.
Before his goons could react, I’d looked inside his neck and found a couple of key veins, held them closed long enough to knock him unconscious, and between working those pouvrin I surrounded his followers with fire. It was exhausting, and I was breathing heavily both from exertion and from fury. I panted for a bit, hands on knees, then straightened and walked with slow, deliberate steps toward the corner where I’d pinned Norsselen’s men.
“I don’t want to fight you,” I said, and I put the fire out. It was harder that time. I’m going to have to figure out how I did that, but later. Much later, probably. “You’ve been listening to Norsselen because—I don’t know, I could be wrong about this, but I think he’s saying things you want to hear. Things that make you feel special. But you don’t realize being able to work magic already makes you special. Not better than other people, of course, not more worthy of respect, but you’ve got something only a handful of people have. And you have the chance to learn more, and be more, and I don’t understand why you don’t want to take that chance. Think about it. If you don’t believe what I’ve been saying, fine. But please don’t interfere with all these other people who do.”
They were huddled into their corner, staring at me, not exactly afraid—more stunned, I think. None of them said anything. They kept casting glances at Norsselen; I realize now they thought I’d killed him, which probably worked in my favor as far as keeping them under control went. Then Norsselen groaned, and shook his head, and looked up at me as if he didn’t remember who either of us was. It took him a while to come to his senses. Then he got to his feet, shook his head again to clear it, and ran at me with his fists raised.
Again, I didn’t even stop to think about the potential dangers. I just went insubstantial and let him run right through me, which made him stumble and go to his knees. Then I was terrified I’d killed him, and that fear turned into anger.
Fury. Here was this man who had so much magic potential, had learned so much in a way I’d never thought possible, and all he could do was cling to his so-called power and bully others and tell them, essentially, that they’d never be as good as he was. And that infuriated me. It was a good feeling, a clean feeling, and I knew what to do with it.
“Jeddan, get him up,” I said. Jeddan hooked his hands under Norsselen’s arms, hauled him to his feet, and turned him to face me. Norsselen fought him, and shouted obscenities at me, until I got right up into his face and looped fire around his neck. That made him shut up fast, though he was still furious. I didn’t care anymore about what he felt.
“Listen to me, you idiot,” I said, loudly enough for everyone to hear. “I am sick of your posturing and your insistence that everyone defer to you because of some fantasy of power you dreamed up. I think you got lucky in developing several pouvrin and you don’t want anyone else to match you. How you manage to reconcile that fact with Jeddan and me working far more pouvrin than you all day long is a mystery I don’t care to unravel. But I’m not putting up with you any longer.
“If you can humble yourself, you’re welcome to learn with the rest of us. I’ll be happy to teach you. But if you persist in behaving as if the true God dropped you on the throne of Balaen to rule over the rest of us, I will turn every pouvra in my power on you until you are nothing but a puddle of weeping flesh. This is not a threat. This is a promise of the future. Drop him, Jeddan.”
Jeddan did so as I released the noose of fire. Norsselen looked up at me, and it makes me sick, now, to remember how much his expression of fear satisfied me. “If you can’t subordinate your pride to learning magic,” I continued, “get out. I’ll take responsibility for it to King and Chamber. I think they’ll understand when I tell them you were undermining our ability to defend Balaen. Now, which is it going to be?”
The Wandering Mage (Convergence Book 2) Page 16
