Sworn To Transfer (16 page)

“No, not like that. You’re taking too long. Perhaps we should start with basic rules about cores.”

Ciardis let loose her magic. “Too long?”

“You shouldn’t have to gather your magic and then drop into a spiral, which was what you were doing, just to activate your mage sight.”

“Oh?” she said hesitantly. “Then what should I be doing?”

Maree said, “Watch me. Watch my aura.” It began to shift and shimmer, the power gathering slowly under the surface until it pooled like silver light around her eyes.

“You can see my power, yes?”

Ciardis nodded in affirmation.

“What did you do to access that sight?”

“Nothing,” Ciardis answered truthfully. “Seeing power build has been something I could do since my powers came in.”

She grimaced. “At first it was everywhere. Now to see magic as it is in a settled form, I have to call my core.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Ciardis,” her instructor said. “You can call in your mage sight to see all forms of magic at any time without dipping into your core. You just have to build a reserve closer to the surface.”

“Give me your hands—we’re going to go into your core together. I will show you what I mean, but this is the only time you will allow another mage to draw from your core,” she said firmly. “It’s dangerous...more dangerous than you can imagine, Miss Weathervane. If another mage can successfully deplete your core, they can kill you. Your life force will dwindle and your body will die. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“All right, good.”

They grasped each other’s hands.

“Close your eyes and focus on moving down into your core. It doesn’t have to be fast. In fact, since I’m following you, it’s best to go slow.” Ciardis began the descent. She saw a tunnel of bright golden power leading down in a swirl to a bright ball of magic—her mage core. It wasn’t precisely in the same realm as her body, but she knew where it was and how to reach it instinctively.

“Do you see the wave of magic curves along the walls of the tunnel? Like a spiral?” Ciardis turned to find Maree Amber, awash in a purple glow, following along behind her.

“Yes, is that why it’s called spiraling?”

“Correct. A mage follows the trail their magic leaves along their core tunnel to reach the axis of their power seated in the ball at its center. The center being their mage core, and the tunnel being the magic taken from the core and used while the mage is in their corporeal form.”

Ciardis looked ahead. “We’re almost there.” And indeed they were.  As they leveled their ethereal forms out to hover alongside outside the core, Maree said, “Now, Miss Weathervane, reach toward your core. Skim a tiny bit of magic from the outside.”

Ciardis moved her form forward and reached to grab magic from the core. It was a hasty attempt.

“Not like that. Slowly, until you have more practice. You don’t want too much or you’ll overwhelm yourself.”

She tried again, this time reaching out slowly, and, with dexterity, she grabbed just enough to satisfy Maree Amber. “Good, now let’s go back up. We’ll stop close to the outer edge and I’ll show you how to deposit what you’ve taken into a reserve.”

Ciardis felt herself begin to rise. This time she followed behind Maree Amber and it felt a lot faster. It was generally easier to go back up the tunnel than to travel down to the mage core. As they neared the edge, Maree Amber’s purple form stopped, an ethereal mass hovering just at the edge.

“Here, Ciardis, is where you’ll place your reserve. Take the core and push against the wall. And then you’re going to reach into the wall and grab small strings of power off of the tunnel. Wrap the reserve tightly. Now try.”

Ciardis hovered and moved up against the tunnel wall. It thrummed with power and beat with the rhythm of her heart. It was melodic in its intensity. She pushed the orb closer to the glowing wall. Holding it in place with one hand, she reached around and grabbed first one string of power, then a second, a third, a fourth, and finally a fifth string of power was wrapped around the reserve ball. It glowed, a sphere encased by a glowing, pulsing web holding it snugly against the tunnel.

“Very good, Ciardis. Now, when you draw from your power, you can draw from here instead of dropping deep into your core. It will get easier for you do and you’ll be able to tap a line of power from your core to your reserve to replenish it once you’re ready.”

Ciardis was surprised. “This is useful. I’m grateful.”

“Let’s go, then; we have work to do. Back to the regular realm.”

“T
ap into your mage sight,” was the command given as soon as Ciardis resurfaced. She hesitated then dipped back to her core. Before she’d been gone for even a few seconds, she saw the bright reserve laying just on the edge. Edging closer to it, Ciardis pushed a line of power from herself into the reserve. She felt the magic rise immediately.

“Good, Ciardis, now concentrate on holding on to the power and open your eyes.” Ciardis followed her command. Staring outward, she saw the glimmer of magic on her desk, in her clothes, and among the objects in the room.

“Where am I focusing my magic now, Ciardis?”

“Your eyes,” said Ciardis, seeing the flare of power centering on Maree Amber’s eyes. A shimmer of power had slid over her eyes like a veil.

“Now watch me.” Maree Amber’s magic rose in waves across her body until it came down slowly to center into a pool in her hands. She held her hands up. The pool of magic began to reshape itself into a web. The web began to twist and turn in on itself. The filaments of string multiplying and connecting until the surface of the web was smooth and the pattern was clear. A hazy image began to appear in the shape of a person.

“What do you see now, Ciardis?”

“A mirror,” she said hesitantly. “A mirror of power. It glimmers and moves as if it’s liquid.”

A satisfied smile entered the woman’s voice. “Very good.”

“Now,” she said softly, “reach forward. Cup your hands under mine as if you wish to hold the mirror yourself. Look into the mirror. Tell me what you see.”

Ciardis took a deep breath, exhaled, and did as she was asked. She looked inside. At first it was just a mirror, rippling like liquid, but still just a mirror.

“Look with your sight, Ciardis,” she said, her tone changing. “Not just your eyes.”

“Right,” she said, trying to change her perspective. Suddenly the mirror shifted; the glow moved to the center of the rippling water and disappeared inside. Images began to appear.

“What do you see?”

“Buildings, water, people...but nothing’s focusing.”

“Right—because I’ve introduced a limited amount of power into the mirror. I’m using my power only to scry and see images from afar. With our connection you can see what I can see. But there are limits on how much. Just as you would only be able to tap into any other mage’s power as much or as little as they would let you.”

Maree Amber slowly moved her cupped hands in a circle, dissipating the images.

“This time I’ll call in more images with more power. Tell me what you see.”

Ciardis peered once more into her cupped hands. A winding street in the midst of Sandrin began to appear. Buildings that looked like they would topple over, and a dark red cobblestone pathway that had seen better days.

“The bookbinders’ district. I recognize the buildings.”

Maree Amber smiled.

“Yes, that is correct.” Slowly, she dropped her hands and let her power evaporate.

“You used your power to see what I saw, even to tap into what I saw,” she said with satisfaction. “But know this, Ciardis: You didn’t
enhance
what I did.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Do you see the difference?”

She nodded.

“Very well. That was the first test. Whether you could see the difference, and, more importantly, if you could do both. You did and you could.”

“Why couldn’t you just—”

“Ask? Have Crassius tell me? He
did
tell me. But sometimes it’s more important for the instructor to observe, and, most importantly, it was good for you to do it yourself.”

“Yes,” Maree said, tracing a finger on a globe on her desk, “You could be very useful to us.” Ciardis perked up a little at the praise.

Maree Amber smiled a cold smile and held up a warning finger, “But if you cannot be trained, if you do not
wish
to learn, you are a threat to everything we stand for, Ciardis. And we can’t have that.”

Ciardis wasn’t entirely sure Maree Amber was speaking of the Companions’ Guild in that moment. Her tone was far too deadly.

“I think that we’ve done enough for tonight,” Maree Amber said thoughtfully as she sat back at her desk. There was a gleam in her eye that Ciardis didn’t like, but if it got her out of her office that much faster, she wasn’t going to question it.

She stood up uncertainly and asked, “Tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow I have a meeting with an Imperial representative,” Maree Amber said pointedly.

As if Ciardis should know that.

Ciardis grimaced when she remembered why she was supposed to know such a small fact about the head of the guild’s schedule.

Tomorrow was a petition day for the guilds across the city. An opportunity for each of the dozens of guild representatives in Sandin representing thousands of members across the empire to have their grievances heard by the Imperial Council. The petitions were given the night before to the Grand Vizier, the new one who had been appointed after the last one’s unfortunate death. The head of each guild would be personally advocating for their community in the morning.

“The next day, then?”

“The evening will do.”

Ciardis nodded and turned to leave.

“And Miss Weathervane?”

She turned back with dread.

“I meant what I said. I don’t want to see you anywhere near the courts. If I do, believe me the punishment will be fitting.” A glacial air overtook the room.

“I understand.”

Ciardis left the room without another word.

After tracking down a servant who directed her to a maid, she was able to find out where her new room was. A square cinderblock with a small bed and cupboard, it looked smaller than the bathroom of the previous room she’d left. There wasn’t even a bathroom in here. Ciardis sighed in irritation and flopped down onto the bed.

She sat up with an abrupt yelp as soon as she did. She pressed her hand into the firm mattress. “Firm” was a kind word for it. It felt like it had been made out of burlap and stuffed with horsehair; the bedding was that uncomfortable.

“What did I ever do to her?” Ciardis muttered into a pillow, her voice muffled.

Besides get the Companions’ Guild on the Imperial censure list. She was sure she wasn’t the only trainee with that distinction. Speaking of Imperial, she was supposed to meet with Sebastian tonight, but that dratted woman had taken her bracelet. The only way for her to connect to the Aether Realm.

Deciding that she wasn’t going to wallow in self-pity, Ciardis took action. If she couldn’t go to the palace, perhaps the palace could come to her. Looking around, Ciardis spotted towels folded neatly on top of her new cupboard. She grabbed a few and left. Casually, she walked out of her room and headed down into the dungeons as fast as she could without drawing attention. She was heading to the steam baths of the
hammam
.

Nodding nervously she undressed in the clothing station, putting on a towel and carefully wrapping her hair up in a second. She smiled at different Companions’ Guild members as she walked sedately into the welcoming steam of the baths. Kept at over a hundred degrees, the steam was usually a pleasant and relaxing reminder of the end to a long day...just not today.

When she nearly bumped into Maree Amber—on her way to the facial room, judging by the brown gook caked on her face—Ciardis couldn’t help but squeak in surprise.
Wasn’t it enough that I just endured an entire afternoon with her? Does she have to ruin my evening too?

The stone cold look the woman gave her in return made her want to sink into the floor. She stood silently as the Companions’ Council head and her attendants glided smoothly around her. With a sigh of relief, Ciardis quickly slipped around the corner and behind a screen to a rarely used section of the baths.

Cracked walls and chipped molding gave testament to how long this small, round room had been left without maintainence. When Ciardis had first discovered the old nook in the back of the hammam, she had taken it as a good sign. It was clean and clear of debris and spiderwebs. So obviously
someone
knew about it. Even though it was off to the side in a secluded area. At first she’d used it as a place to practice her scripts when she didn’t feel like being in her room and didn’t want to be in the company of others wandering around the library, the main salons, or the outer gardens.

Sitting down on the ledge that ran along the circular wall at mid-height, she put the towel-wrapped bundle she carried in her arms down. When she’d first come to the baths with something like this, she’d had to unwrap it for bath attendants to inspect her provisions. Now they were used to her oddness and expected her to carry around the bundle filled with an inkpot, quill, and some used parchment.

But this time was different.

Quickly she pulled back the folds of the white towel covering the objects. Inside the bundle, instead of the usual writing tools, sat a chisel and a medium-sized round pendant made of wood with black squiggles carved into the sides. She had discovered the hidden function of this nook by accident, really.

It hadn’t been more than two months ago when she’d been sitting in this exact same spot practicing her hand at the Sahalian script. She could read it, understand it, and speak it like a nobleborn now. But that ability didn’t extend to writing. Stephanie’s transfer skills were great, but they weren’t infallible. Which was why she was stuck painstakingly copying line after line of the looping squiggles that served as letters for the dragon race. And she did it in whatever creative way she could, from writing outside, flat on her belly in the gardens, to holing up in the steam baths of the
hammam
.