Harmonic Magic Series Boxed Set

by P. E. Padilla

  She sat with perfect posture, her back straight, her head poised proudly on her slender neck. The sliver of her neck he saw between where the mask ended and her clothing began was tantalizing, the skin firm-looking, smooth and perfect. For some reason, Sam found looking at the curve of her throat as something incredibly sensual. He quickly shifted his eyes away from her neck.

  Her clothes, while still covering her well enough to hide her exact form, gave small glimpses here and there of what lay beneath. She was fully covered, but in certain spots her clothing was stretched tighter than the overall loose fit. In these spots, he could see the angles and curves of her body. Or maybe he was imagining the whole thing. He didn’t know.

  Still fixed in his mind were the images of her fighting that first night, in the compound. She was wearing some type of undergarments that night, tighter than what he normally saw her in. Her body was exquisite, forged from years of intense combat training. He decided he better put his mind, and his eyes, on something else. The current train of thought was much too distracting. Better not to go down that road. Better not to even look toward that road. Or admit that road even existed.

  “Are you looking for anything in particular, Sam?” Her voice shocked him in its suddenness. She turned her head so her mask faced him.

  “What?”

  She repeated. “Are you looking for anything in particular? Or are you just leering at me for no reason?”

  “I’m, uhh, ahh…no. I mean, I’m sorry. I was just…well, you know, it’s hard to find a place to look in the uncomfortable silence. I can’t very well look at your eyes. The mask is…disconcerting.”

  “I see,” she said. “Relax, Sam. There is no reason to fill every silence. Silence is beautiful in its own way.”

  “Yes,” he agreed, perhaps putting just a little too much feeling in the statement. “Yes it is.”

  “What?” He got the sense of her eyes narrowing at him. That damned mask!

  “Oh, nothing.” He took a deep breath, waited a moment, and then spoke. “Nalia, do you miss your mother?” He saw her stiffen and was afraid that he had made a terrible mistake.

  He hurried on, trying to explain. “I’m sorry. I was just asking because I have lost a parent, too. I was just wondering how you dealt with it, if it affected you profoundly and invades your thoughts constantly, like it does with me.”

  She appeared to relax a little, going from diamond hard to only as hard as steel. “I see. You lost your mother as well?”

  He looked down at his feet. “No, my father. When I was young.”

  “Tell me,” she said.

  Looking toward her, he scrubbed his hand through his hair. It was getting long. He’d have to cut it soon. “I was only four years old. He died in an accident at work, though I don’t know much more than that. It devastated my mother, so much so that she has never talked about what happened or much at all about my father. I don’t even know what kind of work he did, what kind of work caused him to lose his life. She says it’s too painful for her to talk about.

  “When it happened, we lived far away, on the other side of the country, thousands of miles away. She left everything and took me to the town where I live now. She cut off all contact with friends, relatives, everyone. We started a new life. I don’t know any of the people from the first four years of my life. Not any of my family, except my mom.”

  Picking up a small twig, he began to break pieces off, section by section. “I remember when I was very young feeling like I had been betrayed, like my father had abandoned me. It made me afraid that others would do so. I don’t know, maybe I still feel like that.

  “But that’s not an issue. For my mother, even after all these years, I’m really all she has left. Being gone for all this time, it’s tearing me apart. I don’t know how she has reacted to it, but I’m sure it’s not good. I need to get back home. I need to get back to my mother before it’s too late. She needs me.”

  He looked over then and saw Nalia’s hooded head nodding softly. “I am sorry, Sam. I did not realize you too had lost a loved one. Perhaps your grief is greater than mine because I still have my father close, whereas your mother, the only thing left to you, is in another world. Have you no others in your world who need you, no one else your absence would affect?”

  “There are no other relatives with whom I’m still in contact. I don’t have many friends, just one or two. They’ll be wondering what happened to me, but it won’t destroy their lives as with my mother. No, it is my mother I am concerned about.”

  She nodded again and then turned her head to look at him. “My mother was amazing,” she started. “She was strong and skilled and beautiful. I have been told with how good-looking my father is and how beautiful my mother was, everyone expected that I would be breathtaking. It was a cruel joke the universe played on me that caused me to be so ugly.”

  Sam interrupted. “Please don’t say that, Nalia. I find you to be a beautiful person, as well as honorable, courageous, and kind.”

  Nalia laughed. “That is because you do not have to gaze on my hideous visage. No, Sam, it is right for me to speak of it openly, because it is the truth. It does not bother me. That stopped long ago. I accept it. I only mentioned it because in describing my mother, I had to mention her beauty, which was renowned.

  “She was a tender mother as well. When we were in public and training, she was harder on me than on anyone else, but I understood that she did it so that none could say I was given special treatment. In our home, she was affectionate and supportive, loving. She made me see how it was possible to be a fierce warrior and also love the simple things. Things like being with one’s family and just sitting quietly with those who are important to us.

  “When the Gray Man killed her in front of me, I felt my world end. Honor and duty bound me to deliver his message, but I had already died inside. If not for the fact that none remained to bring the warning message to the Sapsyra, I would have attacked the Gray Man and died as my mother did. To this day I still wonder if I made the wise choice.

  “I love my father and he is a source of pride and of consolation for me, but my mother was a part of me, just as much as my hand is a part of me. When she was killed, that part was savagely ripped away. I do not know if killing the Gray Man will help—I do not know if it is even possible to kill him—but I intend to try and then we will see if the hole that burns in the center of my soul is filled. Our philosophy says that emptiness caused by hateful deeds cannot be filled through hatred, but we shall see. I owe it to the memory of my mother and I owe it to the grief my father still feels over it, even after all these years. I will help to kill him, or I will die trying.”

  She exhaled forcefully and seemed to deflate, looking out toward the darkness. Then, taking a deep breath, she straightened and looked back at Sam. Her voice was now husky, with an edge that, if Sam didn’t know better, sounded like she was fighting her emotions. “And I will help you, Sam. You have proven to be honorable and brave, even recklessly risking yourself to help others. To help me. I will, in turn, aid you in getting back to your mother because no one should suffer the loss of both parents. This I swear to you. Whatever I can do, even should it cost me my life, I will do to help you.”

  Sam felt her eyes meeting his, though he couldn’t see through the mask. Impulsively, he reached out and clasped her hand in his, cupping it reverently in his own. “Thank you, Nalia. I appreciate that. I can’t even explain how much that means to me.”

  They sat there, facing each other for just a moment in time, an endless eternity to Sam, the first real moment of comfort he had felt since he arrived in Gythe. Then Nalia jerked slightly as if she was waking up and slowly pulled her hand away. “We should get some sleep. I plan on working you hard in training tomorrow. You should take your ease while you can, clumsy oaf.” Somehow, he heard in her voice that she was winking when she said it.

  “Thank you, Nalia.”

  “Thank me? For what?”

  “For sharing your
story with me. I know it is difficult to talk about. I appreciate you trusting me with it. You do me honor.”

  Tilting her head slightly to the side, she regarded him. “You are a strange creature, Sam. There is a saying amongst the Sapsyra: ‘Honor is given, honor is received, honor is returned.’ You honor me for allowing me to whine like a child to you and then you thank me for honoring you? Perhaps you have been listening to my father’s parables and now you are confused.”

  She bowed formally to him. “Thank you for our conversation, Sam. I feel at peace for the first time in a long time. I will sleep well. I wish the same for you. Goodnight.” She left.

  Sam sat on his log watching the dying fire for a few minutes more, then went to his own bed.

  Is this the way humans mate? Skitter sent to him as he was preparing to sleep. It’s so much easier to be hapaki. We don’t run in circles around a tree trying to find ourselves. Sam still heard the hapaki’s chuckling in his mind as he fell asleep a few minutes later.

  Chapter 27

  Sam rode Shonyb, the swaying movement of the rakkeban lulling him into a relaxed stupor. The terrain they had been traveling was changing as they went further north. The trees were larger, the forest denser as they continued. Dr. Walt had told Sam that the Rabat forest stretched from where Southern California was on Telani all the way up the length of the state to the north, filling in the area between the coastal mountain ranges and the Sierras. They had gone through some thin areas, even some areas with few trees, but large stands of trees were never too far away, and thick forest prevailed.

  As they came upon a break in the trees up ahead, Rindu signaled Sam to follow him as the rest of the company stopped for a break. Leading him through a few stunted trees, Sam saw that there was a collection of massive boulders jutting up from the ground ahead. When Rindu stopped and dismounted, Sam did likewise.

  “I wish to show you more about using the rohw in an offensive manner.”

  Rindu stepped around one of the boulders. It was a squat, flattened barrel-shaped rock. It looked as if one of the old oak barrels Sam had seen used in wine making had started to melt and a helpful giant pressed it down while it was malleable. The Zouy started picking up flat pieces of slate that were littering the ground around it. Sam helped him.

  When he had enough for his purpose, Rindu walked back around the rock and, using a convenient boulder that had split down the middle and separated, he started stacking the slate pieces so they spanned between the two halves. After he had fifteen of the flat stones stacked, he motioned for Sam to step back. Sam backed up several paces, wondering what Rindu would do.

  The Zouy stood in front of the pile of slate. Then, stepping into a wider stance, bending his knees to settle into a low, stable position, he raised his hands upward, flexing them at the wrist like a symphony conductor. Sam could hear the sharp intake of breath as he did so, could see his whole torso inflate with the rush of air. As Rindu brought his hands down, slowly as if fighting through a pool of molasses, he exhaled a breath, his abdomen tightening to expel the air.

  Rindu put his right hand on top of the slate pile, fingers splayed out and palm resting on the stone. With a sudden motion, unexpectedly fast and decisive, his hand raised, barely an inch off the stone, and then came down on top of the slate, making a slapping sound. Sam’s mouth dropped as he saw the stone…disintegrate. There was no other word for it. A few chunks of rock remained, but most of it seemed to have been instantly pulverized. All fifteen pieces of stone. Each more than an inch thick.

  Sam had seen martial arts breaking competitions before. He was amazed at the masters who broke ten or more bricks with concentrated strikes. But he had never seen, never even heard of, something like this. The Zouy master didn’t just break the stones, he so completely destroyed them that it was impossible to distinguish which tiny piece from the pile of dust and gravel that was on the ground in front of him had belonged to which piece of slate. He also had stacked the stones directly on top of each other, not spaced out as he saw in the breaking competitions.

  “How…” Sam swallowed to moisten his dry throat. “How did you do that?”

  The monk wiped a bit of dust from his hand onto his robes and turned to Sam. “That is the power of the rohw. Have we not been discussing this ever since you arrived from your world? Is it so unbelievable to you?”

  “I know there is power and I know that masters such as you can harness the power, but what you just did is beyond anything I’ve ever heard of. Even the most famous of the martial artists and yogi throughout history in my world, even the wildly inflated legends about them, do not compare to the sheer power of the one-inch strike you just delivered. I just…I just can’t believe it.”

  “And that, Sam, is the problem. To do, you must believe. The bird who does not believe it can fly cannot. It is simple. Now, you must try.” Rindu took a single slate from those they had gathered and stacked on the ground, putting it in place between the rock halves.

  “But I can’t…” he stopped in mid-sentence, watching for Rindu’s eyebrow to raise. It did. “I mean, what do I do?”

  The nod the monk gave him was almost imperceptible. “We will start simply. I want you to breathe, gather your rohw, and then strike the stone downward with your palm. But do not just strike it, strike through it.”

  Sam tried repeatedly, hitting the stone with his palm, trying to project his rohw as he did so, but after six tries, his palm was feeling bruised and Rindu stopped him. “Do not worry, Sam. In failure we find the path to victory. Later, you will think on what you have learned from striking the stone, and with practice with the seed pods and with other exercises we will do, you will succeed when next we try.”

  Rindu looked at the remaining eight slates stacked on the ground. “Ah, we have gathered many targets, but they will not be used. It is unfortunate when things are not used for their purpose. Should we, perhaps, honor these stones from the earth by fulfilling the purpose for which we gathered them?”

  “Um, yeah. I mean, yes, that sounds like what we should do.”

  “Very well, then. I will use them to give you another lesson.” Stacking the stones on top of the one he had set up for Sam, Rindu counted them. “There are nine stones. Choose a number.”

  “Five” Sam answered.

  “From the top or bottom?”

  “Top.”

  Counting down from the top, the monk pointed at each slate in turn. “One, two, three, four, and five.” He tapped the fifth slate, which appeared to be slightly thinner than the others. Taking a piece of softer white stone from the ground, he drew some marks on the gray stone to mark it.

  Resuming his stance and repeating the one deep breath, Rindu placed his hand on the top slate. Taking a half breath, he hissed as he exhaled and Sam saw his hand twitch. He didn’t raise it as before, not even a little. He kept contact with the slate as he hissed and every muscle in his body seemed to concentrate their effort on his palm. As before, a cloud of dust and gravel blew out in a halo around the Zouy. Sam heard a clanking noise, a tinny slap of stone hitting stone.

  When the dust settled, Sam saw the one remaining stone, the fifth stone, the stone marked with the white marks, sitting on the boulder supports. All the other slates had been destroyed. The remaining stone appeared untouched.

  “When you master the rohw, you can direct it precisely. You chose this slate out and it has remained unharmed. I wanted you to see that even in destruction, we can be selective. Do not forget. Often, we must use violence, but true honor lies in not doing violence. That is the true beauty of the rohw. That is the true beauty of life.”

  As they walked back toward the others, Sam looked over his shoulder at the lone remaining stone slab, marveling at what he had seen.

  The rest of the day, he thought about what Rindu had taught him. Even more so, though, he thought about what he had learned about himself. He believed in the power of the rohw, but maybe he didn’t believe in himself. He could see that certain things were
possible, but why did he doubt that he could make the things possible for him? He would have to find an answer before he confronted the Gray Man. If he had any doubts when he did so, he would be lost, and all his friends with him.

  As the group started off again through the winding forest trail, he took out his seed pods, focused to generate his energy, and began to juggle. He had a lot of work to do and little time.

  Chapter 28

  The days passed, each one filled with new sights and activities. While riding, Sam practiced with his rohw, either generating a “rohw ball” in his hands and passing it from hand to hand, feeling the heat and the resistance as he manipulated the energy, or he used his seed pods. He could keep all five of them in motion now, though it was shaky, erratic motion that often ended with him having to chase the seed pod balls as they rolled on the ground. After lagging behind the rest because he had to stop to pick up his “toys,” and receiving stinging comments from Nalia and a raised single eyebrow from Rindu, he reserved his practice with all five for when they were stopped for a break.

  He was almost ready to move on to using pebbles, and he was happy that his skills in both absorbing the energy around him and in using that energy were increasing. Rindu had told him several times that he was naturally gifted in the use of the rohw, that he was easily capable of doing more, but that Sam had to convince himself before it could happen.

  Sam, for his part, thought that he might be limiting his progress by analyzing it too much. Maybe Rindu was right and he could make leaps and jumps in his skill, but that didn’t seem reasonable and so he thought it possible that he was holding himself back. He tried to progress. He practiced constantly, listened to everything Rindu said, and he was doing well, just not as well as the monk told him he could do. And he still could not travel back home.