The Wilder (The Trouble with Magic Book 1) (16 page)

Karryl thought for a moment before giving Symon an anguished look. “Almost everything you’ve taught me for a start, and if I tried I could probably remember the rest of the stuff I thought I’d forgotten. Sometimes I even remember things I didn’t know I knew.” He gave a derisory snort. “Well, that sounded a bit daft, but …well…you know what I mean, don’t you?”

Symon peered into the bowl of his pipe. “I think you’re worrying unnecessarily. Your improved mental faculties are no doubt the result of rather more intensive studying than you’re accustomed to. This is no bad thing, and in time may prove to be a blessing. However, if you’re feeling that it’s getting too much…”

Karryl leaned back and rubbed his hands across his face. “Y’know, sometimes it really feels like that...a bit too much. One day I’m just a street-boy expecting nothing but what the day might bring, and then...well, you know...I get thrown headlong into a completely new way of life and everyone expects me to deal with it.”

For a few moments nothing broke the ensuing silence. Eventually, Karryl looked up to see Symon gazing at nothing in particular, a troubled expression on his face.

The boy jumped to his feet. “Oh! No, I didn’t mean…”

Symon held up a steadying hand and waved him back into his seat. “Don’t get too anxious. What I was thinking was, this might be a good time to start concentrating more on your practical work. Although you appear to have mastered the spells of concealment and revealing, as well as a number of other simpler spells, there are to the best of my knowledge, quite a few lower grade spells you have not yet attempted.” He grinned wickedly. “If they do not prove entertaining, they will certainly bring you back to earth.”

It was a moderately consoled, although rather subdued magician’s apprentice who sat down to supper later that evening, but his spirits gradually rose as Symon explained to him the spells he would be practicing. By the time supper was over, Karryl’s sides were aching from laughter as Symon regaled him with stories of incidents he had witnessed, in which novice spells had inexplicably and spectacularly come apart.

The following morning, with less than two weeks to go before the Winter Festival, magician and apprentice crunched their way through an ankle deep covering of pristine snow into the secluded glade near Symon’s hidden garden.

Karryl grumbled. “Why do we have to do this outside? My hands will be so cold I won’t be able to do anything properly.”

He blew hard on his fingers to emphasise his point, before thrusting them deep into the pockets of his coat.

Simply clad in his usual woollen robe, Symon had made one concession to the weather and put on a sleeveless leather jerkin. He watched as Karryl stamped about in an effort to fend off the chill of the winter morning. “Would you please stand still?”

The shivering boy gave him a long flat stare.”It’s the only way I can keep warm.”

“Well, that just goes to show how little you really know. Now, if you can keep your body still for a few moments, I will teach you how to warm yourself. All it requires is a little concentration and a calm mind, and as this is your first attempt I will give you a little assistance.”

Stepping over to his glum faced apprentice, Symon placed his small slender hand on the boy’s arm, and held it there for a few moments. Karryl’s eyes widened as he felt a gentle warmth begin to suffuse his chilled body.

The pinched look slowly vanished from his face, and his petulant expression turned to one of incredulity. “How did you do that?”

Symon raised an eyebrow and removed his hand. “That is what you are about to learn. The warmth you are now enjoying will hopefully last long enough for you to master at least the rudiments of the spell. When you have mastered it completely, you should have no difficulty in warming yourself out of a block of ice.” He chuckled at Karryl’s horrified expression. “Don’t worry. I won’t be asking you to do that.”

Ignoring the somewhat dubious look he was given, Symon continued. “Now, would you please see in your mind anything that appeals to you that conveys warmth, and imagine it is down by your feet. Close your eyes if you think it will help, but concentrate solely on the heat source. When you have a firm fix on it, hold it in your mind and gradually move it upwards.”

He watched his young apprentice for a minute or two. “It is a good idea to breathe at the same time.”

Karryl’s breath exploded from his lungs in a white cloud. His face coloured, as he gave Symon a sheepish grin.

Inclining his head, the magician folded his hands into the sleeves of his robe and gave a wry smile. “You’re not the first. No doubt I did the same thing myself when I was an apprentice. However, those days are deep in corners of my memory that I seldom visit. Now, if you are still comfortable, we will continue.”

Karryl nodded. Deciding to close his eyes, he settled once more to concentrating on the imaginary glowing brazier at his feet. After a few minutes, a smile began to appear on Karryl’s face as he realised he was beginning to feel warmer, especially his feet and legs. Gradually, he mentally lifted the brazier higher. As the warmth spread to his chest he began to revel inwardly at his success, although he was now beginning to feel rather warmer than he would have liked.

A sharp unrecognisable word from Symon made him snap open his eyes. With a startled yelp, he hurriedly jumped back as a small brazier filled with glowing hot coals crashed to the ground in front of him, emptying its contents with a steaming hiss onto the patch of stamped down snow. Open-mouthed, Karryl stared at the smoking steaming debris in front of him. With a grimace he looked across at Symon. His master’s expression was inscrutable. The two of them stood, not saying a word as the hot coals, rapidly losing their radiant glow, puddled through their surrounding bed of slush. With a final defiant hiss they settled into a patch of blackened grass and mud.

Clasping his hands, Symon tapped his chin with his forefingers. “I think that was taking it a bit too far don’t you?”

Lost for words, Karryl threw his hands up, his eyes silently begging for an explanation. Stepping through a stretch of deep, untouched snow to a place beneath a tall elm tree where the covering was thinner, Symon brushed off a fallen tree-trunk and sat down.

He beckoned Karryl over to sit beside him.”I don’t recall giving you any instruction in Materialisation.”

“Oh. Is that what it’s called? Well, whatever name it goes by, that wasn’t what I expected. Did you?”

Symon shook his head, his gaze fixed on the darkened muddy patch a few feet away. “Do you think you could do it again?”

Having now recovered from his initial shock, Karryl grinned. “I think I’ll save that one for emergencies.”

Symon turned to him and frowned. “I’m glad you’re able to see the funny side of things, but we must get to the bottom of this. However, as Materialisation seems to be the order of the day…”

He held his hands out in front of him, palms upward. The air around his hands shimmered in a soft, golden glow. With a quiet grunt of satisfaction, the magician handed Karryl a large mug filled with steaming hot vegetable broth. Ignoring his apprentice’s gasp of surprise, Symon produced another for himself, wrapping chilled fingers gratefully round the mug’s warmth. Sipping their welcome beverage, the two sat in contemplative silence.

The purple tinted grey clouds of early morning had begun to drift away. Barely perceptible, the warmth of the winter sun prompted cushions of snow trapped in the trees to progress, one rhythmical drip at a time, to the ground below. After one particularly large and icy drop had hit him squarely on the top of his head, Karryl gulped down the rest of his broth, pushed himself to his feet, and shuffled back through his own footprints to the place where the now cold brazier lay on its side in an uninviting pool of dirty water.

Rubbing his hands together, he turned to Symon. “Do you want me to try it again? I’m beginning to feel a bit cold now.”

Symon called from his seat on the log. “Perhaps you were too warm to begin with. Yes, please try again. A matching pair of braziers will always come in useful.”

Karryl gave the magician a long look. It was difficult to tell if he was being serious, so closing his eyes he concentrated once more on the image of the glowing brazier. Feeling a warmth begin to spread over his feet, he mentally lifted the image as he had done previously. Once again a sharp word from Symon sent an almost identical brazier, filled with glowing coals, crashing down to join the first one in the puddle. Karryl stared at the pair of braziers in disbelief.

Symon came to stand beside him. “Did you do that deliberately?”

Karryl was having difficulty keeping a straight face, but judging by Symon’s expression, he didn’t think it would be a good idea to choose this moment to burst out laughing.

Thrusting his chilled hands into his pockets he looked down at the rapidly dying coals. “I suppose I must have done, because I did exactly the same thing as I did the first time.”

“Well, this is most unusual. It’s normally a very simple procedure, and one that can also be reversed to keep you cool in hot climates. Perhaps…”

“I’ve just had an idea!” interrupted Karryl.

Symon’s brow furrowed and he looked at him from under his eyebrows.”Do you think that’s wise? Thinking seems to be your downfall at the moment.”

Karryl grinned. “Let’s see if it works first. Would you mind if I tried again? If it works, I’ll explain my thinking.”

Symon shrugged, gave a little smile and stood back as Karryl closed his eyes once more. He breathed slowly and easily, his breath drifting out of his nostrils in tiny wisps as he gave the impression of being asleep on his feet.

After a few moments during which Symon, eyes open, employed the same procedure almost as second nature, Karryl began to smile and then he too opened his eyes. “It worked that time! I’m as warm as toast!”

Giving a satisfied nod, Symon stepped forward to stand beside his protégé. “Now all you have to do is learn to maintain it for as long as you need it, and that will only come with practice. I would be interested to hear your theory as to what happened during your previous attempts.”

Flushed with success, Karryl found it hard not to look smug. “It’s all about outside and inside. You told me to imagine something warming so I did. But I thought of something that warms the outside … and now we have a matching pair of braziers. But when I imagined something that warms the inside, then it worked!”

The little magician said nothing, just tucked his hands into his waistcoat pockets and stood looking at Karryl as if considering the logic of his theory. Eventually he stepped up close and looking up into the boy’s face, said quietly, “That still doesn’t explain how you managed the Materialisation without a formal spell casting.”

Karryl lifted his hands in the air in a gesture of frustration. “I don’t know. It just happened! I thought perhaps you could explain it.”

He began to look rather dejected as Symon frowned and lapsed once more into thoughtful silence.

After a minute or two, Karryl bent down to pick up one of the braziers. “Shall we take these back to the tower?”

Symon made a dismissive gesture.”No. Leave them there for now. I’ll deal with them later. I think it’s about time we returned to the tower. You can study some of the basic spells you will need to know for your tests next year. I also have some studying to do, to see if I can find a precedent for your unusual abilities.”

Taking one last regretful glance at the braziers lying abandoned in their pool of sooty slush, Karryl pushed his hands into his pockets and followed his master back along the snow-covered woodland path, to the warm confines of the tower.

Karryl was finding it difficult to concentrate. The fact that there was now only one week to go before the Winter Festival was part of it, but the thing preying on his mind had nothing to do with festivities and merry-making. Most of his weekend had been spent in the company of his best friend Joel. The snow had all melted away, apart from a few patches lying in shaded hollows and corners as reminders, and the days were clear but bitterly cold.

Wrapped up warm, they had spent a few hours down at the harbour, looking at the boats laid up for the winter. After that, they strolled along the riverbank watching the wide flat body of the river, swollen with snowmelt water treacherously swirling as it rushed between high banks in a reddish muddy torrent towards the estuary below the city. The watery sun was gleaming low in the sky as they started to make their way homewards. It was then Joel told him the news. They had been talking about the coming festivities and the Citizens’ party to be held in the City Hall.

Noticing a distinct lack of enthusiasm in his friend, Karryl tried to boost Joel’s flagging mood. “If it’s still as good as I remember, then neither of us will have to eat for about a week afterwards. My folks will be going. What about yours?”

Joel stopped. Leaning against the coarse trunk of a Black Alder, he looked out across the water, his gaze distant and unseeing. He stood motionless, lost in thought while Karryl pushed a lingering patch of snow about with his foot.

When his friend finally spoke, his voice was quiet and subdued. “It won’t be the same this year, and it may never be the same again; not for a few years anyway.” Karryl was taken aback to see tears starting in his friend’s eyes.

Gently he grasped Joel’s shoulders and looked into his face. “Why’s that then? Don’t your parents want to go?”

Joel frowned and shook his head. “It’s not that, although they probably won’t anyway. No. Ghian’s setting sail for Naboria on the evening tide tomorrow, and this time he won’t be coming back. That’s what he said anyway. He and father had a blazing row last week, and they haven’t spoken to each other since, and he’s hardly spoken to me either. In fact he’s been a bit strange altogether, since he’s been back.”

At the mention of Naboria, Karryl’s mind flew back to the time near the end of Summer, when he had gone to the docks, and the snatch of conversation he had overheard between Ghian and his father.

Forcing a grin, Karryl slapped his unhappy friend on the shoulder. “Stop worrying about it. He most likely didn’t mean it. You’ll see. He’ll change his mind at the last minute tomorrow and it’ll all be made up. Then we’ll all go to the City Hall together like we used to.”

Joel forced a weak little smile. “It’s not very likely, but thanks for trying. Ghian really meant it. I could tell. Anyway, he packed his things, all his things, straight after the row and he’s staying with my aunt Melva down in Harbour Terrace. The worst part is, I think they might have come to blows, ‘cos father had a red mark and a bruise on his face next day, and Ghian was walking with a bit of a limp when he left.”

Karryl was aghast. He would no more think of striking his uncle or Symon than he would of jumping into the rushing icy water of the river. “Don’t you have any idea what the row was about?”

“Oh yes, but I don’t think I ought to say too much. All I can tell you is that it was something to do with what happened when Ghian was in Naboria.”

“Wasn’t he supposed to have done some deal for Naborian wine?”

Joel gave a contemptuous snort. “Supposed to; yes. Naborian wine? No. I think that’s what he led father to believe until it was nearly time for him to go back. Then the truth must have come out. That’s when they had the row. Anyway, let’s leave it for now. I don’t know about you but I’m getting cold. Race you back to our house!”

Now Karryl sat, his books and scrolls scattered on the table in front of him. With a sigh, he shook his head and pulled a book of spells towards him.

“Problems, Karryl?”

He looked up to see Symon watching him from his armchair by the fire. “With these spells? No, I don’t think so. It’s just …well …oh, bother it! Can I talk to you about something? It’s supposed to be a sort of secret. Even so I think it might be a bit too important to keep.”

Symon chuckled as he stuffed smoking leaf into his pipe. “It’s sort of secret, but a bit too important. Sounds interesting.”

Karryl sighed again. Leaving his books, he crossed the room and flopped down in the armchair opposite.

He stared down at his feet for a few moments and worried at a thumbnail with his teeth. “Do you remember when I told you that Joel’s brother Ghian had come back from Naboria, and we decided it wasn’t very likely he’d been buying wine?”

Symon raised an eyebrow and studied Karryl through a slowly drifting cloud of aromatic silver-blue smoke. “I do indeed. I also remember that His Majesty said exactly the same thing when I related the matter to him. I believe he was setting things in motion to find out what, if anything, was really going on, but so far I have heard nothing. Why? Have you heard something?”

Karryl’s brow furrowed slightly. “I might have, but no matter which way I look at it, it doesn’t make a lot of sense. Joel didn’t make me promise not to say anything, so I suppose it’s all right, but he did say he didn’t want to talk about it, even though he told me a bit after he’d said it.”

“I’m intrigued. Do go on.”

Karryl hesitated at first, but soon got into his stride and related almost verbatim the things Joel had told him. Symon listened, his face expressionless. He sat for a time with his eyes closed, puffing on his pipe. Karryl could do nothing but wait for some kind of response.

Just as he was about to get out of his chair and return to his books, Symon opened his eyes and gave him a knowing smile. “It doesn’t do to become impatient. If you are going into battle you must first work out your strategy, establish your allies, and ensure that you are fully armed and equipped. Most importantly, you have to know your enemy. Such things take time and preparation.”

Karryl frowned. “You’re not talking about a real battle, are you?”

“Not the kind you’re thinking about, with battalions of soldiers all armed to the teeth. No, the battle I am anticipating will be fought with cunning and strategy, and hopefully no one will get hurt.”

“Why has there got to be a battle anyway? Is it something to do with Ghian?”

Symon reached up and placed his pipe in the rack fixed on the chimney breast. “All in good time, my boy, all in good time. Now, you said that Ghian’s ship sailed on yesterday’s evening tide. Therefore, time is on our side, as it’s at least a six week voyage to Gamdonia.

“Assuming he is heading for Negon, which is the capital city of Naboria, he then has another week travelling overland. After that, he will have to board another ship and sail for a further week, before he reaches his destination. Of course, if he intends to stop in the port of Nebir where he will first make landfall, it will make our task that much easier.”

Karryl sat bolt upright in his chair, his eyes wide.”Are we going after him then?”

“No, we aren’t. That’s too much like hard work. However, we do have people and powers at our disposal who are far more suited to doing this kind of thing than we are. I think it’s time to set some wheels in motion. First, we must find out if Ghian is actually at sea and if so, whereabouts he is.”

The magician smiled at Karryl’s perplexed expression. “I can see you’re wondering how we’re going to do that. Time to learn something new! Clear everything off the table please.”

He pushed himself out of his chair and scuttled off into the kitchen, while a still rather baffled Karryl started to put books back on shelves. He was just putting the last book away when Symon returned, carefully carrying a wide black-glazed bowl filled almost to the brim with clean water.

After placing it on the table, he folded his hands in front of him and cocked his head to one side. “Do you know what you are going to do?”

Karryl’s eyebrows made a scramble for his hairline. “Me? You said ‘we’.”

Symon chuckled. “From what I’ve seen of your improving talents of late, I have no doubt you will be quite capable of doing this. Now, make sure the water is quite still, and look into the bowl.”

The magician held up a warning finger as Karryl’s hands came forward to grasp the rim. “No! You must have no contact with it. Rest your hands on the table, or fold them behind your back. Stuff them in your pockets if you must, but keep them out of the way. Now, look into the bowl as if you’re trying to see right through it to the table below, and clear your mind of everything except what you are trying to achieve.”

“What am I trying to achieve?”

With exaggerated patience, Symon explained. “I have just said to you that we want to find out where Ghian is. Look into the water and think about Ghian. Don’t think of him in any particular place or situation, just think of his face and his personality. Think of the person, not what he does or is doing. The scrying will tell us what he is doing.”

“Scrying?”

“Yes. That’s what you are doing; looking into a scrying bowl. I could have given you a ball, but we don’t want that much information at the moment. Perhaps next time. Now, will you please concentrate, and if you do see anything I would appreciate a commentary.”

Folding his arms, Karryl gave Symon a long hard look. “This isn’t going to work.”

Symon’s eyebrows twitched slightly. “Would you care to tell me why not?”

Karryl gave the magician a long-suffering look and raised his hands. “I haven’t clapped eyes on him since he was eighteen. He might be different now.”

Symon gestured towards the bowl. “No matter. Go with what you remember. It should work if you think clearly.”

Karryl shrugged, and placed his palms flat on the table. Leaning towards the bowl, he centred his gaze on the bottom. He turned his thoughts to Ghian, and tried to visualise his dark eyes, and the wide, almost cruel mouth which smirked when he teased him. He pictured the long dark hair pulled back to the nape of his neck in a sailor’s queue, the tall broad shouldered figure, and the arrogant head-high swagger. Then he realised that what he was seeing was not just in his mind’s eye, but in the water of the bowl.

Not daring to look up he whispered “I see him!”

The deck of the ship rose and fell with the motion of a long low swell. Ghian strode purposefully across to the railing with the sure-footedness of one accustomed to a moving deck. There he rested his elbows on the wooden rail, turned, and looking directly at Karryl, gave a wide smile. Karryl gave a little gasp, and was about to pull back when another figure came into view and joined Ghian at the railing. It was then Karryl realised that it was the new arrival Ghian had been smiling at. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Continuing to watch, Karryl began to tell Symon in quiet low tones, what he could see. “They’re just talking. I can’t hear what they’re saying but they seem quite excited about something. The other man has just given Ghian a piece of cloth. He’s moved away from the rail and is …oh, I see. The cloth is wrapped round something and Ghian is unwrapping it. I can’t see what it is, but he seems pleased with it.”

Had he been able to see the item and describe it to Symon, things might have taken a very different course. As it was, it seemed to be of little consequence. It was to turn out that it would cause Symon quite a considerable amount of trouble, and ultimately put Karryl in danger of his life.

However, the images in the bowl gave them no hint anything was amiss, and Karryl continued with his scrying. “Now he’s shaking the other man’s hand. The other man is leaving, and Ghian has put what the man gave him into his coat pocket. Now he’s leaning on the railing again looking out to sea.”

Karryl pulled his head back a little and was surprised to find it widened his view. Ghian, and the deck on which he was standing, became smaller as part of the horizon appeared. In the far distance two small islands were visible, one long and low, the other appearing to be a single peak thrusting up out of the ocean.

He described these to Symon, who stepped forward to dip a slender finger into the water, dispersing the images in a circle of tiny ripples. “Good. That will do.”

Karryl shook his head, rubbing his hands over his face as Symon picked up the bowl of water and carried it back into the kitchen.

Karryl followed and leaned on the doorpost. “That was a bit scary. Did you know I could do that, because I didn’t.”

Symon dried the bowl with a cloth, then placed it on a shelf. “Considering the consummate ease with which you have worked your way through the rest of your studies, I had little doubt of your success. Now we know Ghian is indeed out at sea, and we also know where he is. It was fortunate that we did the scrying at that particular time, as those two small islands you described will be Ghian’s last sight of land until he reaches Gamdonia. One thing does puzzle me though.”

“What’s that?”

“How did he manage to find a ship? With the time for the Winter Festival nearly upon us, I would have thought that ships would be laid up, and their captains home with their families or renewing acquaintances in the local taverns.”

His eyes wide, Karryl held up his hand. “Didn’t I tell you that?” The ship he came in was Naborian. I saw it when I went to the docks.”