Even in his own head, Mazik was sarcastic. He pushed that thought away.
Mazik had already realized that the older man was trying to maintain the fiction that Ravelin Bilay wasn’t the Blue Boar. Mazik also decided that he didn’t care. He stared down his nose at the other man. “We need to speak to the Blue Boar. That is, we need to speak to Ravelin Bilay. Who is the Blue Boar.” He bowed slightly. “Please.”
“While I’m aware of the Blue Boar in general,” drawled the doorman, though his eyes never left Mazik’s, “I don’t know where to find him. If you don’t have any business in this neighborhood, the three of you should leave.”
Mazik leaned in, and dropped his voice menacingly low. “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter.” He pronounced each word carefully, though he was smiling throughout. The smile fell away, and he folded his arms. “We need his help with the orck situation. Is he here?”
The doorman crossed his arms in response. All around the immediate area, loitering neighbors began to drift closer.
Seeing how futile the situation was becoming, Gavi stepped in front of Mazik, both hands held out in a placating gesture—though she made sure to stomp on his feet in passing. He dodged. “I’m sorry about that. My friend here is a mean-spirited malcontent who can’t keep his stupid mouth shut.”
“Hey,” said Mazik.
Gavi ignored him. “Do you mind if we just tell you what’s on our minds?” Gavi smiled. “You don’t have to do anything with it if you don’t want to. We’d just appreciate it if you listened.”
The doorman said nothing, and the lurking neighbors stopped drifting closer. Gavi took that as a yes.
“We met the Blue Boar last night, while we were helping to defend the city against the orck invasion. He might remember our mouthy friend here,” said Gavi, jabbing a thumb at Mazik. “He’s the one he said looked like he was wearing a bathrobe. Not that you know the Blue Boar, of course.”
“Hey,” repeated Mazik. He gave Gavi an injured look. She shushed him. Behind them, Raedren wisely remained silent.
“We’re looking for the Blue Boar because we have a plan that could help end these attacks, but the city guard isn’t willing to act. We are.” Gavi crossed her arms, then appeared to think better of it. She adjusted her sword belt instead. “We’ll do it on our own if need be, but we could use help. We heard the Blue Boar was a great detective, and we need help finding the orck’s camp.
“I understand that you don’t know how to get a hold of the Blue Boar, but could you maybe just …” Gavi waved her hand like she was trying to coax the words out. “Just mention it to Mas Bilay? It probably won’t do any good, but maybe the Blue Boar will overhear you.” Gavi smiled softly. “If nothing else, I understand he’s a good man. Maybe it will give him some good cheer.”
The doorman grunted and pushed himself away from the fence. “I have something I need to discuss with young Bilay anyway. Maybe it will come up.”
Gavi bowed. “Thank you.”
“Wait here, and don’t move,” said the doorman as he opened the gate and stepped through. He paused. “Otherwise my friends in the neighborhood watch might get testy.”
The trio watched as the doorman ambled along the side of the house and disappeared around back.
“Good job,” said Mazik out of the side of his mouth. “More subtle than I’m used to, but effective. A little bad copper, good copper play.” He grinned. “We’ll turn you into a salesperson yet. Or a politician.”
“You’re not even doing sales anymore,” Gavi pointed out.
Mazik sighed. “The more I see, the more I realize that everything is a sale. Now, I just get to blow things up after the deal is made, which is fun. And I can tell customers to fuck off if I want to.”
Gavi snorted, though it looked to Mazik like she was forcing down a smile. “You could have just been more tactful, y’know.”
“Meh,” said Mazik. “Sounds troublesome. I’ll leave that to you.”
“I’ll concentrate on looking handsome,” said Raedren.
“You do that.”
Gavi didn’t let up. “If we want to make a serious go at adventuring, you might have to play these games sometimes. What’s more important, not humoring a quest giver, or having to get another ‘real’ job?”
A chill of something not unlike embarrassment crawled up Mazik’s spine. He covered it up with a grunt. “I’ll get back to you on that.”
Several minutes later, the front door opened and the doorman ambled back out.
“Mas Bilay wishes you good luck,” said the doorman as the gate squeaked closed. He settled back into his spot against the fence. “He also suggested, on your way out, that you may want to visit our local park.” He pointed down the street to his right. “There’s a nice statue there that we’re proud of. I suggest the bench under the big tree on the east side. It’s not the best view, but it’s cool and relaxing on a day like today.”
Gavi clasped her hands and bowed. “Thank you. We’ll do that.”
For his part, Mazik tried to ignore Gavi’s I-told-you-so smile as they headed toward the park.
*
Gavi brushed off the bench and sat. Mazik claimed the spot to her left. He leaned back, looking upward at the sunlight filtering through the branches overhead. Raedren sat to Gavi’s right. He crossed his ankles beneath the bench, his hands resting on his thighs.
Surrounded by houses and streets on all sides, the park was one of the few blocks that had been kept stubbornly free of civilization. On one end was the rough outline of a ball pitch, currently empty, with picnic tables running along the nearest sideline. On the other end was the statue the old doorman had told them about, as well as the tree the trio sat under.
Gavi examined the statue, which was in the classic mold. She had long ago noticed that most public statues consisted of either an old man looking serious, a young man on horseback, or the female version of either. Occasionally children would appear, likely frolicking, and possibly accompanied by their mother. Soldiers doing something soldiery were also popular. This one was the male version of number one, with the old man staring sternly into the horizon, one hand clasped over his heart while the other rested on an old-timey saber.
Gavi watched as Mazik’s feet rocked back and forth, his eyes still focused on the leaves overhead. Though he had been complaining nearly nonstop since Gavi told them her plan earlier, he had been silent since they left Ravelin Bilay’s house.
“Sorry about back there,” Mazik said finally. “I got too heated. If you both think this is our best plan, I’ll go along with it.” He grumbled. “I’ll humor this guy’s delusions and play nice.”
“I don’t believe that for a second,” said Raedren.
Mazik flashed a lopsided grin. “Give me some time. It’s a learning experience.”
Gavi ruffled Mazik’s hair. “Good boy, good boy.”
Mazik shook her off. “Anyway, what say we get some practice in while we wait. By which I mean, you get some practice in. Might as well get some use out of this time.”
“Good idea.” Gavi drew her sword and handed it to Mazik. She kept her sheath. This was a park where children played, after all. She didn’t want to be swinging around a deadly weapon.
Gavi looked around. There were only a few people in the park right now, but people were passing by on the roads surrounding it all the time. “I wish I didn’t have to do this right by the road. I don’t want people to see me screwing up.”
“That’ll give you incentive not to fail,” said Mazik.
Gavi scowled. “You demon.”
Mazik smiled. “Guilty.”
Gavi set up several paces away. She took a combat stance, her sheath aimed at a low-hanging branch.
“You have your focus crystal, right? By which I mean my focus crystal.”
Gavi touched the necklace resting against her chest. Next to the silver arrowhead she always wore—an old gift from her parents, though she had since had her name engraved on it, so it could do do
uble duty as identification in case of her bloody, painful demise, which she felt was a cheery thought—was a pale blue gem set in five claws of silver flame. It was a gift as well, though not to her. The Tyrant of Houk had given it to Mazik, for his role in vanquishing the evil god Amougourest, just as the Tyrant gave another necklace to Raedren, and Gavi’s sword to her. Mazik had lent the necklace to Gavi, since she needed a focus crystal for practice. She nodded. “Got it.”
“Let’s keep working on evocation,” said Mazik.
“I figured,” said Gavi, gesturing to her outstretched sheath.
Mazik stuck out his tongue. “Start by trying to do a basic spell. Take each step slowly. Do you want me to call out each one?”
“No thanks. Just tell me if you can figure out what I’m doing wrong.”
Mazik rested his elbows on his knees while Raedren pulled a book out of his jacket. “Probably nothing in particular,” said Mazik. “Moving mana the correct way is just fiddly and annoying until you figure it out, even more so than with enhancement.”
“There’s not much movement with enhancement,” said Gavi. “Mostly it’s just targeting the right part of the body.”
Mazik waved a hand. “My point stands. You’re just going to have to do this a few thousand times, and eventually it will click.”
“Great.” Gavi took a deep breath, stilled her mind, and imagined the steps she would need to take. Her mind flashed back to the first time she worked on evocation with Mazik.
*
“Okay. Evocation,” Mazik was saying. It was just Gavi and him today. They were in the yard behind Gavi’s parent’s house, in an area they had cleared for this purpose. Gavi was dressed in casual workout clothes, shorts and an old tunic, with her blonde hair tied in its usual tail. Around her neck was Mazik’s spare focus crystal. Mazik was wearing dark trousers, with his shirtsleeves unbuttoned and his robes tossed over the back of a nearby chair. He stood facing her.
“I’m going to go over each step exactly like my teachers taught me. Sound good? You’ll know much of this, but I figure we might catch something you never learned, or something new might click. Plus, I love the sound of my own voice.”
Gavi smiled wryly. “Of course you do.” She nodded. “That’s fine.”
Mazik clasped his hands behind his back like a drill instructor addressing new recruits. “Magick is performed by aping the Winds of Magick. Anytime anything happens in nature—a burst of wind, a wildfire, crazy makeup sex”—he looked off into the distance and smiled, then returned to the present with a cough—“it generates mana. This mana moves in line with whatever created it. By copying how mana moves at its point of creation, we can recreate the effect. We reverse engineer it, basically, since the magick and the effect flow both ways—though it will never be exactly the same, since it’s reproduced without any natural materials, save for the mana.
“The trouble is that the way mana moves in nature is endlessly complex and variable, and we’re not that good at manipulating it. The complex stuff is completely out of our reach, while the simple stuff is merely outstandingly hard.” Mazik grinned sheepishly. “Humbling, isn’t it? Which reminds me: How were you first warned about how difficult learning magick was going to be?”
“That learning to keen is like living your whole life surrounded by constant, overwhelming noise, and learning to hear a baby crying three blocks away,” said Gavi. “For casting, one of my teachers said it was like learning to move a limb that’s been paralyzed your whole life, only you can’t see it, so you have to take it on faith that it exists at all.”
“Oof. Those are deep. My teachers mostly just told me that I was a screwup and would never be able to do it. Shows them how smart they were!” He shook his hand at the sky.
Gavi wondered if making use of Mazik’s defiance wasn’t the point. “Back on the subject …”
“Right. So, humans originally figured out how to cast spells by imitating natural magick, and sometimes by copying some of the simpler divine spells. Since then, we’ve passed them on by copying each other.” Mazik patted his shoulder. “In the absence of a convenient explosion for you to keen, you’ll have to make do with me. Here, step over and put your left hand on my shoulder.”
Gavi did. As soon as her hand came in contact with Mazik, she could instantly feel the mana flowing within him, gently roiling like the eddies in a lake.
“A focus crystal isn’t necessary for limited, short-range evocation, though it helps a lot, especially when you’re starting out. Right now, what I want you to do is focus your keening. Focus on the area in and around my hands.” Mazik cupped his hands in front of him.
Gavi nodded and focused. She had always imagined her sense of keen as a bubble that surrounded her. Within that bubble she could feel how every bit of mana moved, as if it were wind brushing across her skin. This ambient mana gave off a curious almost-warmth; it was a feeling more similar to touch than sight, though it remained completely different. Other casters felt like a flare of warmth within that sphere, like a torch that glowed more brightly the more powerful they were—and Mazik was very powerful. But when Gavi touched him, she could peer past the obscuring shell of this MPB—his personal mana barrier—and into his mana pool.
Gavi’s attention went to the focus crystal around her neck. Her keening narrowed, and though a dim awareness of the mana around her remained, she focused her sense like a spotlight, aimed at Mazik’s hands. “Got it.”
“Watch how I do this.” Mazik’s voice was even, patient. He might be a hothead in everyday life, but no one becomes skilled at casting without remarkable patience and focus, bordering on tranquility.
“There are four steps to casting a spell. Step one: collect the mana you’ll use to fuel it. I’ll do a pretty basic evocation spell, meaning this is one I can cast a bunch before I run dry.”
Gavi nodded. She knew she would be able to cast this spell fewer times than Mazik, once she got it down—her mana pool was about average for a caster, whereas Mazik’s was a good bit above average.
Mazik prodded her with his elbow. “You feel that?”
She did. The gentle eddies in Mazik’s mana pool—the side effect of mana’s natural propensity for motion, even when contained—picked up as mana flowed down Mazik’s arms and into his hands. “Yeah.”
“Good. Step two: imagine the effect you want to create. In this case, I’ll cast a spell that’ll blow up in the air in front of us, so that’s what I’ll be imagining. I’ll imagine the color of the mana, and the shape of the spell as it forms in my hands. I’ll imagine aiming the spell, and firing—no, I think I’ll toss it, so it doesn’t go too far. I’ll imagine the sensation of mana departing my body, the sight of the explosion, and the feeling of satisfaction after successfully casting the spell. Imagine everything.” Mazik paused. “Can you feel how the mana has begun to move?”
“Yes.”
“With practice—a lot of practice—simply imagining the spell will make the mana move in the way you need. It couples the idea of the spell with the reality of it, making it easier for you to cast it again in the future. I can’t emphasize enough how important this is.” Mazik flashed her a lopsided grin. “I didn’t do this for the longest time, because I thought it was pointless, and I ended up having a lot of trouble duplicating my spells reliably. Though I doubt you’ll have that problem.”
“Of course not. Unlike some people, I actually listen,” said Gavi, her voice gently teasing. What she didn’t add was that she had enough trouble without making it harder on herself.
Mazik chuckled, then continued. “Third, you move the mana. Like I said, when you get really good with a spell, this will bleed over into the second step. There’s no real logic behind how mana moves, so you’ll just have to learn what works by observing others, by observing how it happens in nature, and by trial and error. Every spell also has subtle variations and can successfully be performed in slightly different ways, so you’ll have to see what works for you. A focus crystal also help
s.” He flipped his hand around and tapped his Telman ring, its pale blue gem gleaming with internal light.
Gavi could feel the mana moving in Mazik’s hands. It flowed out through his fingers, pouring into the space above his palms in a violent clash, like dough being kneaded over and over, or a room full of bouncing rubber balls. But there were intricacies, twists in the mana that seemed inconsequential, but which Gavi knew were vitally important. A sphere of ethereal blue light appeared above Mazik’s hands, growing to the size of a cantaloupe—though Gavi, whose eyes were still closed, couldn’t see it. She only felt it.
“For evocation spells, we simplify the Winds of Magick that accompany violent natural phenomena, such as explosions or burns—this is an explosive spell, by the way. This isn’t exactly what would happen if a grain mill or something blew up—do those explode? I can never remember—but it mimics the essence of the Winds of Magick that would accompany such an explosion.”
Gavi was paying so much attention to the spell that she barely heard him, but she nodded.
Mazik kept going. “Step four: invoke the spell’s name and release the spell. Just like with imagining the effect, a spell’s name provides a framework to hang the memory of the spell on, as well as a trigger to release it. This will help with recasts. When you get really good with a spell, you can think its name to cast silently, or not use it at all. Saying it always makes it easier, though. Ready?”
“Do it,” said Gavi, her eyes snapping open as she focused on the glowing orb.
Freelance Heroics (Firesign Book 2) Page 12
