Perilous Travels (The Southern Continent Series Book 2) (18 page)

“You open the windows in my room, and I’ll go open the windows at the other end of the hall,” Grange directed.  He left the pebble on the table in his room, brightening the room cheerfully, while he strode quickly down the dark hall to the west end of the building and opened the windows there.

When he returned, the customary breeze was blowing through the hallway, and the glow in his pebble amulet was diminishing.

“You made that glow a long time,” Grace commented.

Grange climbed on the table, then grunted as he lifted the hatch to the roof.

“I’ll lift you up,” he said.

Grace grabbed a sheet off the bed in the room, the bed that Grange had not even slept in, then she clambered up on the table next to Grange, and stepped into the stirrup he formed with his hands, as he lifted her upward.  Moments later, he followed her up into the refreshing evening air.

“I want to be the wizard here,” she told Grange as soon as they were both standing on the roof.  “Do you?”

“I think so,” Grange said carefully.  “I don’t know what else I have to,” he paused and groped for a word to use to avoid revealing his concerns about a demon war, “what else I have to learn,” he improvised.  “But if I was sure I could, I would like to remain here.”

Grace spread the sheet she carried out upon the roof, then sat down upon it, and Grange followed her down.

“If you go back to Palmland and study under Brieed, you’ll become a very powerful wizard,” Grace lobbied him.  “Look at how fast you made those amulets.  You could be a full-fledged wizard in a year or two.

“If I go back there, I’ll continue to be an apprentice for who knows how long?”  Grace moaned.  “And they’ll all still look at me as a girl – the girl I used to be.  I have to start fresh somewhere new – somewhere like Kilau.”  She lay on her back and looked up at the sky.  “Everything comes so easily to you.  Can’t you let me have this, please?”

Grange heard the pleading tone in her voice, and he realized how difficult it had to be for her to swallow her pride and appear vulnerable in front of him with her request.  She was a difficult person for him to get along with – she was insecure, at times abrasive, jealous of his apparent talent.  But she also was willing to help him, and had talents of her own, and seemed to be a victim of her own insecurity as much as anything.  And they had a musical magical compatibility he could not deny.

“Okay,” he heard himself say.  “I’ll let you be the one.”  He felt a sense of relief at the decision, he found to his surprise.  Yet he also felt a sense of regret that he would not have the easy opportunity to be a part of the palace for as long as Shaylee stayed at the palace.

“Really?  You mean it?” Grace’s voice was excited.  She rolled over next to Grange, and he saw the sparkle of joy in her eyes.  “You’ll let me be the wizard here?”

She kissed him soundly on the lips in gratitude, then raised her head and looked at him.  Their eyes looked at one another, and then her face lowered down again, and another kiss began.

“Master Grange?” a voice called from the hatch, and the two of them parted as rapidly as if they had been repelled apart.

“Gats?” Grange asked after a second of befuddlement.

“Yes sir, sorry to intrude.  The staff reported seeing some unusual lights on the staircase, and I just wanted to make sure everything was alright,” the butler spoke.

Grange sat up, as did Grace.

“Yes, that was just a small thing.  Everything is perfectly fine – thank you for checking, though,” Grange said self-consciously, wondering what the man had seen when he had poked his head up through the roof opening.

“Very good, sir.  Please feel free to ask for a lantern or candle any time you think you need one,” Gats said, and then he disappeared back down out of sight.

Grange turned back to look at Grace.  She had shifted back slightly, away from him, and her fingers were touching her lips as he observed her.

“I think I better go back to my room,” she said in a hesitant voice, then she rose and swiftly reached the hatch.  Grange watched in disbelief as she let herself down and disappeared from sight.

The kiss had been a revelation.  Yet he was in part glad that she was gone. 

And his mind was still convinced that he was better off not serving as the wizard for Kilau, despite the potential missed opportunity with Shaylee that the office might carry.

He looked up at the stars.  He wouldn’t pursue the kiss with Grace; it would be too complicated in too many ways.  But while they were together on the island he would pursue the training from Grace on amulets and other tools while he could.  He particularly wanted to learn about wands, and how to create one for himself.  It was something he could learn, he told himself, whereas understanding Grace, or even women in general, was something he would never master.

Chapter 12

When Grange woke the next morning, the sun was partially above the horizon. He dressed and left the embassy, browsed the market without finding anything of interest, then went to the armory, earlier than usual.

Luri had not unlocked the doors when Granger arrived, so he stood and waited, watching the morning shadows move about as the sun rose in the east, and a few industrious workers already on their ways to employment.  When the friendly armory attendant arrived to open the doors, Grange entered with him, then went to the archery range for his solitary practice with the bow and arrow.  The practice felt tedious, as his mind was preoccupied with thoughts about the upcoming meeting with the Palmland delegation to discuss the wizardry offer and the trade treaty.

He was relieved when Jadie and Casey entered the hall, the first members to arrive besides Grange.

“I was sure we’d get here before you!” Jadie cried.  “We couldn’t get here any earlier if we spent the night in the building!”

They all put on pads and began practicing with swords and then the spears that Grange considered to be a staff with a point.

“Do you ever practice throwing the spear?” Casey asked when they finished.  “You’re not really using it the way it should be used if you just poke and twirl and trip with it,” she commented.

“Go with us to Jadie’s family’s home in the country, and her brother can give you a challenge with the spear!” she continued.

“Carie is the best on the island – he can hit a target from a hundred paces,” Jadie agreed.

“Can we go tomorrow?” Grange asked, mindful of his need to return to the embassy at that moment.

“We’ll plan on it,” the girls agreed, and they left the armory when he did.  Others immediately approached Grange, seeking to spar with him, but he begged off, and returned to the embassy.

From the front hall Grange heard Bartar enter the dining room to sit down to breakfast, and he decided to quickly shower and change so that he’d be presentable for the small conclave that he was about to join.  He bounded up the stairs and went to Grace’s room, knocked on the door, then pressed the door open a crack to speak to the occupant.

“Grace?  May I take a shower?” he called.

“Come in Grange, I’m dressed,” he heard the girl’s voice reply.

“I’m going downstairs now.  I’ll see you there,” she told him as he slipped into the room and she slipped out.  She was dressed in a black dress that appeared to be a robe, one that seemed to convey the image of a wizard in some fashion.  Grange’s head turned as he walked by, letting him examine her appearance, one that seemed intended to reinforce the decision the two of them had made the night before to designate her as the newly-named court wizard of Kilau.

She left him alone in her room, her clothing scattered indiscriminately upon the furniture, and he noticed it for a moment, the feminine shapes of cloth that appeared designed to tempt him to distraction, until he reached the bath and opened the spigot to allow the water from the roof top tank to stream down upon him and rinse away the morning’s workout of grime and sweat.

Bartar was pleased that the two had come so amiably to an agreement about which would be offered as the one to stay in the court of Kilau when Grange eventually went downstairs.

“I think the arrangement makes sense,” he told them as Astel listened mournfully.

“A female wizard will give the Queen some comfort, I suspect,” he projected.  “And young Grange will have time to go back to Brieed’s halls to learn the rest of his trade.  Astel and I will work on the treaty language this afternoon, and we can all go to the palace tomorrow to deliver our proposals.”

“Will it be in the evening, tomorrow?” Grange asked.

“Do you have plans during the day?” Grace asked sarcastically.

“I do.  I’m going to go practice throwing spears,” he answered.

“You’re not going to work on amulets with me?” the girl asked him.

“You could spend the afternoon with me while Grange is gone,” Astel offered.

“We can work on amulets this afternoon, and the day after tomorrow,” Grange answered, ignoring Astel.

“You’ll need to really start to buckle down and work on amulets if you want to improve and move on,” Grace told Grange, also ignoring Astel.  “You may be able to pick up the skills quickly, but I still need time to teach you in the first place.”

“We will go to the palace in the evening tomorrow,” Bartar cut them off from further bickering.

“I’ll send a note to the palace this afternoon, before Astel and I work on the treaty,” he told them.  “And of course, I need to send letters to the court in Palmland to seek approval of the proposals we’ll be working on.”

Grange and Grace went out to the garden soon after, and began working on the nuances of creating amulets.  Grange listened patiently, as Grace explained the different types of materials used for different purposes, and Grange practiced storing energy in wood, stone, leather, and even a feather, as well as combinations of the materials.

“I want to create a wand,” Grange said after they returned to the garden following a lunch break.

“A wand?  Just like that, a wand?  Grange the Mighty wants a wand, so let’s make a wand, poof?” Grace said mockingly.

“A wand is the most valuable amulet a wizard can produce; it doesn’t come quickly or easily,” she told him severely.  “It will take weeks possibly.   We’ll need a full moon, among other things.”

Grange immediately thought about the star-filled skies he had looked at from his roof top nest each night recently – there had been no sign of a full moon.   It was likely to be several days before the next full moon arrived.

“Okay,” he meekly accepted her judgment.  “Let’s start with whatever we can.”

“We can’t start with anything until you have a stick to use as your wand,” Grace retorted.  “We’ll need to go on a search to find the proper stick that will be your foundation.”

“There’s a stick,” Grange said sarcastically, pointing at a leafy branch overhead.

“You don’t want one that’s still living,” Grace seemed to bring her temper under control.  “You want a stick that is whole and solid, but no longer alive.  You have to recondition it to accept your power, and you don’t want its own power to be in the way, interfering with the wand’s ability to absorb and adapt to your powers.”

“Let’s go find one,” he said, standing up.

Grace stared at him, then stood up as well.  “Lead the way,” she told him.

Grange walked out of the embassy and onto the streets, then led the way to a park he had passed every day on his way to the armory.  He began scouring the ground, looking for suitable sticks, and showed them all to Grace as he picked them off the ground, or snapped them from dead branches.

“That’s too crooked,” she said to his first candidate.

“Too thin,” she dismissed the second stick.

“Not long enough.  Too weak. Still green,” she forced each candidate to drop from Grange’s hand to the ground.

“That one is a candidate,” she surprised Grange by saying after twenty minutes, as he held a dark, barkless, cylinder of wood.  “Bring it along, and see what else you can find,” she instructed.  Several minutes after that, Grange grasped a second stick, and they walked back towards the embassy to examine the two wand candidates closely.

“Treat each one as if it were going to be an amulet,” she instructed him when they sat back down at the garden table again.

Grange set the first stick in front of him, and laid the second stick off to the side.  He called upon the energy to congregate and form a layer around the stick, then studied how the energy layer reacted with the wood.  “There are a lot of places where the surface is ruffled,” he noted.

“Ideally, you want the length of the stick to have as few imperfections as possible, and you want the ends, especially one end in particular, to be very open to absorbing energy,” Grace told him.  “You want to limit where the energy emerges from, so that you can focus it and retain it.”

“This one’s no good,” Grange dismissed the energy he had called, and tossed the stick aside, then grabbed the second stick, and conducted his study on its energy properties as well.  “The other one has too many leaks as well,” he said in disappointment.

“We’re not going to go out now to look for more sticks,” Grace told him.  “We’ve done enough for today.   You can look for more good sticks tomorrow, and we can pick up with examining them,” she said.

Grange was disappointed with the end of the session, but bit his tongue, pleased that Grace was willing to work with him at all.  He went back to the armory and spent the last hour of the afternoon practicing there, then returned to his search for new sticks on the way back to the embassy in the early evening.

He walked up to his room with a handful of sticks, and laid them out on his table.  Afterwards, he entered Grace’s unoccupied room and showered once again, went down to the kitchen to grab a plateful of food, and returned to his spot on the roof with food, sticks, and the sheet that he laid on for the rest of the night as he examined the properties of each stick, and sorted them by the ways in which they were open to the energy.

When he fell asleep, he knew that none of the sticks were good enough to be a wand.  Each had openings along their lengths that allowed the energy to enter and exit as the flows dictated.

The next morning Grange was up early and at the armory early.  He practiced archery, then fencing with Jadie and Casey.

“You’ve ruined us for parties now,” Casey complained.  “We want to go to bed early enough to come practice with you.”

“We better win the tournament,” Jadie said in a mock ominous tone.

“What tournament?” Grange asked.

“Let’s go meet Casey’s brother and we’ll tell you on the way,” Jadie suggested.

The three companions left the armory and walked to Casey’s home, then surprised Grange by continuing to the stables in the back.

“Carie’s out at the country house,” Casey explained about her brother, who was to start training Grange in tossing the spear.  “You wouldn’t really want to try to throw a spear around in a city, would you?” she joked.

They rode horses for half an hour, out into a countryside of both small farms and garden plots, as well as middle-sized estates.  They reached the country home of Casey’s family, and Grange was introduced to Carie, who had the same striking light green eyes that his sister had, with a more muscular build than any of the visitors, including Grange.

“Spears are made for throwing, and the javelin is the best to throw if you’re just trying to throw far,” Carie told Grange as the two of them stood at the edge of an empty pasture.  They had carried an armful of spears with them and piled them on the ground at the spot they were going to begin the new practice.

“This,” he uncoiled a leather strap from around his waist, one that Grange had assumed was just a belt, “is an amentum, a throwing strap.  We’ll practice throwing the javelin, then you’ll learn how to do it with a strap.”

“When I’m in battle, will I throw a javelin or a regular spear?” Grange wanted to know.

“Well, you won’t really ever be in battle, so there’s no worry there,” Carie said breezily, “but if you were throwing in battle, the javelin could go farther, but the spear would probably do more damage, and would be more accurate at short range than the javelin at long range.”

They threw the entire stack of spears they had carried, then went to the area where the projectiles had landed, and threw them all from there, Carie offering advice and suggestions as they stood in the hot sun.  They carried out a third round of throws, and a fourth, with the introduction of the throwing strap, which Grange found awkward at first.

By mid-afternoon they were hot and tired when Casey and Jadie joined them. 

“Where have you been, in the pool?” Carie asked.

“We have a spring-fed pond where the water is absolutely cold and wonderful!” Jadie explained to Grange.  “You should come try it!”

And so they all went to the pool, the boys following their spear throws as a game they played on the way to the cool spring.  The water was cool and refreshing, so much so that Grange was willing to float peacefully until he knew it was time to return to the city.

“I have to go to the palace tonight,” he told the others as he climbed out of the water.

“Is there a dinner, or ball?” Casey asked.

“We are going to go to the Queen to talk about the treaty that Bartar wants for trade,” Grange told them.  He didn’t mention the arrangements for the queen to have a wizard in her court, a topic that he thought the queen would handle as she chose.

The three visitors left Carie at the country estate, and rode back into town.  After saying good bye to his friends and thanking them for the full day of activity, Grange returned to the embassy, where he found that his absence was a topic of considerable discussion.

“Where have you been?  It doesn’t matter – get dressed,” Bartar said hurriedly as soon as Grange entered the front hall.

He obediently ran up the stairs to his room, and was in the middle of putting on one of the new outfits Regan had prepared for him when Grace barged into his room.