Sparks (7 page)

It took me nearly half an hour to break it down into a version I could understand. ‘Kumo, the last king of Hurgada, lost his kingdom after the Madurian Invasion.’ I recognized the glyphs for Hurgada from the cover, which helped, but the rest was just as complex as before. Once I translated the glyphs, I wasn’t surprised with what I found. Hurgada possessed iron, a precious resource for countries like Madurai that could only mine copper. It was funny how no one liked to mention how quickly Madurai fell when attacked by Takla Maya a few years later.

With nothing else to do, I continued my gruelingly-slow translation of the book, which thankfully was one of the shorter ones and had been scribed by someone with neat, large handwriting. By lunch time, I had managed to get through a few pages that described the structure of Hurgada’s sea power and large number of ships that they used in an attempt to take over Madurai.

I learned the soil in Hurgada could not support much plant life and the people struggled to survive. Even the seas had been overfished to try to feed the large population. They attacked Madurai after we rejected a deal to offer them food in exchange for iron. So far, I couldn’t figure out why the Madurian king declined to negotiate until a pact could be reached, but I could understand why Hurgada would be so aggressive. Starving people will do almost anything to survive.
I should know.

I didn’t have to read the rest of the book to know what it would say. My father had told the story of the Third Wars a few times, and I remembered it well. The Hurgadan Navy attacked several villages on the coast along the Eastes Sea, but once they landed on the Madurian soil, their malnourished soldiers were no match for us. The story took on a different meaning once I learned about the starvation in Hurgada.
No wonder their soldiers couldn’t defeat the Madurians.

Crossing the Creekmont and seeing villages such as Cycus, I understood how frustrating it could be to watch others eat as you starved. Once Madurai assumed control over Hurgada, we fed the people while taking whatever iron we needed. It only lasted a few years until Takla Maya came in and took it all.

My stomach growled loudly by the time I thought the dining hall would be empty enough to grab some food, and sure enough, I managed to snag a quail leg and carrots without any trouble. I had to congratulate myself on making some serious progress in
Hurgada’s Fall.
When I woke up, I hadn’t known a single glyph, and by the end of the day, I’d have read several chapters of a book; I almost couldn’t hold back my excitement.

It took me nearly a month to read the eleven books Avis had assigned to me. Several of them–such as
Ritual Sacrifices of the Nakbe Islands
–seemed more like my mentor’s attempt to waste my time than to actually teach me anything. The snow began to fall for a day or two at a time, and I was thankful to have a warm place to stay during the winter, even if it was holed up in my room with a pile of books.

The most interesting one,
A Brief History of Sparks
, described the myriad of Sparks and attempted to explain them as an extension of the soul. It even broke them into three categories they called ‘divisions’. Each ability was called a rate and placed in one of the three categories– called divisions. The Elemental division–the Strikers, Drifters, Puffers or Shakers–was comprised by those who could control one of the four elements, fire, water, wind, and earth.

The Natural division dealt with animals or the environment in some way. Trackers belonged to that category, as well as Riders, and Fellers who were skilled with trees and woodworking. Some of these rates were only useful for life in a village, such as the Fishers or Builders, and others were more valuable, such as the ones that dealt with dangerous animals, like Micha.

The third division, the Spirituals, included rates that dealt with the mind–a curse, according to the authors. Speakers were gifted with language. Readers could read your thoughts. Seers could know the future. There was even one–called The Majestic–that had some abilities from each of the divisions.

I found it quite fascinating that there should be so much information about Sparks even though I had never heard of them before a few weeks ago. They had been known and studied for a millennium, and still mostly kept secret.

Reading books turned out to be much easier than reading people. Words were rather straightforward in a way that humans could never be. Emotions were complex and often clouded each other or blurred a thought, but books were clear and simple. The hardest part about reading a book turned out to be the students who walked by my room at random intervals. Their loud thoughts about being hungry, worried about a test, or excited about an accomplishment would blow the words right out of my head, leaving me scrambling to find my place to keep going.

Once I finished each of the eleven books assigned, I moved on to the pile of maps. I studied each for at least an hour, without a clue as to what was important on them. There was one map for each of the four nations showing the major features and towns. The map of Madurai showed Hubli at the center, surrounded by the Creekmont that extended far to the southwest, the Calloway in the southern point, the Highlands and the Frost Pass to the northwest, and the northern hook known as Andover. The Greenwood Road transected north to south, all the way from the Andover to the Calloway, running right past Hubli.

My father had drawn a simple map in the dirt once while we ate lunch on a hunting trip and I recognized some of the structures; now that I could read the labels on the maps, however, I knew I had a much greater understanding. I felt more comfortable reading Madurian but was sure I was quite slow. It still took me a few days to read a book–and sometimes more.

Once I finished with the books and maps, I was faced with a new problem: how to find Avis. He said he wanted to test my knowledge, but there had been no sign of him since Latinia’s Library. I hadn’t met anyone at Myxini aside from Micha, Jhoma and Khea–and I still didn’t know where she was. I avoided eating in the dining hall during the rush, which cost me getting to know the other students. Unfortunately, I didn’t have much of a choice; the cacophonous rumble in my mind didn’t leave me sufficient room to keep up much of a conversation.

After I asked Jhoma, to no avail, I had no choice but to wander the grounds until I found my mentor, a process that took three days. I found him in the gardens, sitting on a bench with a book in hand. To the unbiased observer, he probably looked like he was in a wonderful mood.

“I’m ready to answer your questions.”

“Oh, is that right? Well, then, let’s get started.” He placed a worn piece of fabric between the pages of his book and closed it. A glance at the title got me the gist of it,
Strategies of a Seer
, which hardly seemed recreational.

Avis began with a series of routine questions about the major regions of Madurai, the cultures of Takla Maya and the Nakbe Islands, and the First and Second Wars. Each answer I gave him was direct from the information I’d read, though several of them I could have answered long before I even went to Jhoma for help. Things got more interesting, though, when he asked about the Third Wars.

“Why couldn’t the Hurgadans defeat us?” he asked with a strange look in his eye that set me on edge.

I ignored it–or tried to–and replied, “They had a far superior naval power, but they were starved. They didn’t stand a chance once they stepped off their boats.” Avis pursed his lips at my answer.
Was I wrong?

“Then what traits are necessary,” he asked, thoughtfully, as if he hadn’t known what he wanted to ask when he started, “to successfully fight back an enemy army?”

That wasn’t covered in the texts, and I could tell by the expression on his face that he didn’t expect me to get it right, so I thought long and hard about it. I dragged back memories of things Father had taught me, and I thought of the successful and failed wars.

I was pretty sure Avis would count my answer wrong no matter what I said, but finally I came up with something I could defend. “A country needs to have an educated, well fed, and armed population that believes in the goals that its leaders provide. If they don’t agree with the reasons for the conflict, they won’t fight for it.”

Avis glared at me distastefully, which worried me even more than his smile.
He didn’t like my answer. I’m going to have to start over at the beginning.
I almost clenched my fist in irritation before I saw him reach into his pocket and pull out a black strip of fabric. Without a word, he handed it to me and walked away. I turned it over in my palm a few times before I really understood what happened.
My Round One stripe.
I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.

Combat

Before I could open my door, I heard Micha call to me above the chatter of the students, “I’ve been looking all over for you.” His eyes widened in amazement when he saw the black strip in my hand, “You passed Round One already? How’d you manage it?” It was clear from Micha’s expression that he struggled with history.

“Avis assigned me a bunch of books and maps to study. He asked me a few questions. I answered. Then he gave me this.” I didn’t want to tell Micha how easy it all seemed. Perhaps it was part of some elaborate plot Avis had to get me kicked out, or perhaps Micha was simply that far behind. Either way, it wasn’t something I wanted to tell him outright.

“Edmon’s asked me about history twice now,” Micha started, but the frustration that peaked in his mind told me all too well how his tests ended.

“I still have the books in my room if you want.” His eyes narrowed and his face became pained, and at once I knew he hoped for a different answer. “How about this? Come by my room after dinner and we’ll go over what I learned. I’ll tell you everything I know.”

“Thanks, Lark.” He smiled brightly and continued ahead to the dining hall.

I was glad I could help him, but it seemed a bit odd that he was so helpless.
What’s he going to do for future Rounds? What am I going to do, for that matter?
I turned around on the spot and headed straight for Jhoma’s room. I didn’t know if he was there, but I crossed my fingers and knocked. He opened up with a wide smile and a gentle laugh. “Hey, I wondered when you’d be back to finish learning how to read. I thought you might have given up.”

“Oh no, I was able to figure it out based on what you gave me.” I realized then that it was probably a mistake to use so many of his memories and then not come back for later lessons. I had no way to explain how I had learned.

“Really? That’s impressive.”
Then again, maybe people really are that oblivious.

“Actually, I was hoping you’d be able to tell me what to do with this.” I held out the black stripe that matched the three he already had on his sleeve.

“My mistake.
That
is impressive. I don’t know of anyone who’s gotten through Round One in less than two or three months. Avis gave this to you?”

“Yeah, just now. He asked me some questions and then just gave it to me. You think something’s wrong?”

“No, I’m sure you earned it. I’ve just never heard of getting through it that fast. Especially with Avis–and you just now learned how to read.” He marveled at my accomplishment like I was the first to ever learn about the history of our country.

“So what do I do with it?”

“There’s a woman in a small hut just outside the grounds on the western side. Igera. She’ll sew it to your sleeves. She has a whole pile of them but she won’t attach them until your mentor has approved you. That’s why you need this one.” As he spoke, I could see her and the hut vividly in his mind as if he’d brought me right to her.

“Do I need to bring all my shirts?”

“All the ones you want the stripe on, anyway.”

“What do I need to do for Round Two?” I asked, when I remembered the other reason for my visit.

“Round Two is Hand-to-Hand Combat. No weapons, no knives, no Sparks. Just you.”

“What do you mean no Sparks?”

“For the two of us, it doesn’t really matter, but for Strikers or Drifters or some of the others, it could be a major advantage.”

“Those are the ones with fire or water, right?”

“Yeah. Just imagine, you’re trying to fight a guy and he suddenly catches your clothes on fire.”

“Do we only fight boys?” Jhoma thought of a fight with a girl a few months prior. It had been an even match and he had barely won.

“No, whoever is at that Round will participate. It’s pretty unfair to most of the girls, though.” I didn’t need to have access to Jhoma’s thoughts to understand how unpleasant it could be to fight someone below your skills.

“Thanks for your help. I’m sure it won’t be long before I’m back for more.”

“Anytime. You know where to find me.” His words matched perfectly with his thoughts. He was happy to have a chance to help someone; it made him feel necessary.
I guess we all just want to be important to someone, even if it’s someone pathetic, like me.

Hand-to-hand combat–I could not fathom how that would turn out. Without my Spark, I was good as defenseless.
There’s no way I’m going to be able to beat anyone.

~~~~~~~~~~

I woke with the sun, washed my face, and dressed in my new striped coverings.
New to me, anyhow.
Rather than sew patches onto the ones I’d brought to her, Igera made an exchange with me for other shirts that were already marked.

I sat to tie the drawstring of my pants when the door opened. It was Avis, and I felt immediately conflicted.
Is he here to give me another impossible challenge, or is he actually going to help?

“In order to complete this Round, you must learn to fight another unarmed student without the use of your Spark. To prove you have successfully mastered this form of combat, you must defeat each and every Round Two student. Only then will I award your stripe. Use of combat techniques outside of my presence, or that of the combat instructor, will mean a free trip home.” The smile on his face made it clear as day that my trip home was what he wanted.